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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

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Could I request a Jaskier x female reader where the reader is a princess who during daylight, is condemned to be a bear, after being cursed by an evil sorcerer At night she become a human again. Which the curse can only be broken by a man (who would be Jaskier) who pledges his heart solely to the reader (something like true love’s kiss). Please and thank you!!!

Bruin

jaskier x reader

masterlist

Warnings; mentions of witcher killing, mentions of death and angst, curses, nudity, some fluff, implied smut

“G-Geralt.” Jaskier’s voice shivered, as he saw a great mountain of brunette fur, wading through the long grass, heavy breathing exhibiting from its wet snout. “There’s a bear!”

“If you’re that scared, try to speak quieter.” The Witcher’s speech remained monotone, as he continued walking, leaving the bard to catch up with his hardy footsteps. “We need to leave before nightfall, that is when the true monster is unleashed from the bruin vessel.”

“You kill monsters, we’ll be fine.” The bard waved off, though he was terrified, and Geralt was all but convinced with his dismissal. “We will, won’t we Geralt?”

“It’s bad luck to remain out here at night, it’s an old wives tale, however, no one survives the night out here. Not after the disappearance of the princess of Arafell.” Jaskier remembered that tale, he had even seen the princess at a banquet once when they were both young in age.

Neither of them had the opportunity to converse with one another that evening, it was the night she had ran away. and he certainly had regretted never asking her dance. Before that though, they had often strode through the gardens hand in hand, conversing on the beauty of the petals that veiled around the stems, and she, unlike most people, listened to his descriptive forms of poetry. Back then, he had been shy, and not to mention, she was of sought after royal blood. That evening was the last that anyone from the kingdom had ever been seen, after the slumber of eternity wept over their souls. One thing he severely remembered though, was that she loved dandelions.

The princess had ran away, leaving the king and queen in search of someone that could find her, and thus they hired a private sorcerer to complete their wishes. But instead of seeking out the lost girl, the old man took the gold and the lives of old, wallowing the land in distress that clambered into a delving of madness.

A shout bellowed from the bear, and Jaskier found him to “How long will it be til we reach the borders?”

“The bad luck will loom over us Jaskier, we will not make it out of here in the span of the next countless hours. There will be a moon in the sky, but perhaps we’ll be able to seek out cover in the old guard’s tower.”

“Where are we Geralt?” The brown haired poet feared to be met with the answer “What makes you think that we’ll survive the night?!”

“This is what remains of Arafell.” Stated the white haired hunter, as he continued to plod through the thick foliage beneath his dark boots. He stepped on the dull green life form, not encouraged to pursue any further into the depths as he heard the destination that they were travelling through.

“Arafell, great.” Huffed the irritating bard, clutching his lute as he spoke the haunting name. “There’s no need to be afraid, when you’re in the land of torn bodies, because the witcher is by your side. He’ll slash and dice, protect the mice, from the darkness that falls from above. The people are dead, I am filled with dread, in the land of Ar-afellll.”

“Stop singing.” Whenever there was any fault present in their adventures together, Jaskier had a tendency, wallowing similar like a pie without filling to sing. It shrouded Geralt with epitomised frustration, his betrothed follower sure knew how to pull his strings, it was as though he were a moral lute, a practice run of socialisation for the noble’s son.

“Sorry.” Apologised the traveller, with a shrug encompassed by a spark of coldness affecting his posture. There was a breeze, filled with the pinching of icicles in the air, and it clawed through his clothes, clashing with the meat blanketed warmth of his bones. “It’s just- we’re in bloody Arafell, or what remains of it, and you are so calm. Have you maybe perhaps forgotten what happened here?!”

“No. I was here when it queen Ara and her kingdom fell. And that bear has lurked every inch of these demolished castle lands searching for scraps, and if you cannot tell, it is almost night fall, and she has come up sufficiently short of anything, for all these decades.”

The listener frowned, bears did not live so long. It was a curious prospect, it remained loyal to these grounds, although it was empty. There had to be a reason why, a pattern that supposed why it, or she as Geralt had divulged, remained to lurk in the midst of the overgrown forestry. And then another thought (yes, Jaskier had the ability to do that despite what his protective travel mate may have wondered), hit him, like a bolt of lightning.

“Um, Geralt, where is the bear?” He gulped, hearing the rustling of the thick foliage metres behind them. The moon scourged the sky with its global presence, inducing another shot of ambient fear through Jaskier’s veins. “It was-“

“Shut up a moment.” It was almost impossible half the time to silence Jaskier, but this time, he actually obliged the command. Geralt drew his sword, the one that glistened a predominate silver and was made from the compound, clutching the handle in his vice and skilled grip, as his feet took him closer to the imposter that was imbedded within the weeds.

“Oh.” Jaskier covered his eyes, he couldn’t look as Geralt pointed the weapon at the beasts throat; a whimper escaped it as Geralt took a step back, alerting his companion. “Kill it Geralt, it’s a bear, it’s going to kill us.”

“It was a bear.” Geralt elaborated as he watched the beast transform and lose its course coat of brown fur, turning into a less monstrous beast. It was only a girl, with unruly and wild hair that was matted in all directions, her face contorted into fear. “Of whom are you, my lady?”

“A witcher.” It trailed from her lips as a whisper, her tone alerting Jaskier that it indeed was not a bear, rather it was a woman, laid on the forest ground, in nothing but her own layers of skin. His eyes widened for a moment, until he earned an elbow in the rib from his friend for his long and convicted ogling. “I have only heard legends but...

“You speak english?” Jaskier wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, hinting at his subsequent misunderstanding of the situation. “but you were a bear?!” This was all growing more confusion with each passing second, there were too many angles of the world.

“I’m cursed.” It was an easy consequence to admit, for the lady of the worlds already lived through them. “Each day, I am forced to pad about in the brute body of a bruin, a sorcerer brought by darkness himself to this dimension damned me to this abomination, his name was-“

“Lament.” From hearing that name, the woman on the ground was taken aback as the women, trying to prevail some decency, attempted to cover her breasts with her arms, as she crossed her legs over one another. “Your parents sent me to find you, lady. I came up empty handed in my search for you, there was no trail that I managed to find, nothing that would point in your direction. And that night, as I returned with short of nothing of any news of your whereabouts, Lament was there.”

“He killed them all, didn’t he. My family?” The answer didn’t require any verification from Geralt, the solemn, yet usual expression on the Witcher’s face was all the confirmation that she needed. “Of course he did, he’s a poisonous shadow, when he finds something he wants, he takes away its home, so that it can’t run back to the hearth whence it came from. I regret every running away from home...”

“Wait a moment.” This was all beginning to add up in some mind boggling way. Jaskier flitted his gaze aside for a moment as Geralt pulled a fine blanket from his luggage, knowingly seeing the movement out of the corner of his curious eye that she was pulling the material that conducted warmth over her shoulders, and across her sachet of flaunted skin.

"Shut up Jaskier." Instantaneously stated the bard, whom had returned his cerulean gaze back upon the y/h/c woman, depositing a composition of interest to her form.

"You're the princess of Arafell, aren't you. Y/n, it's you, isn't it?" Y/n's expression was one of shock; how did this man know of her identity? She understood how the witcher did, though with considering he was condemned with the duty of finding her. The brunette man was slightly familiar, and so he revealed why that was. “it’s Julian.” Jaskier held his hand to his chest, almost hurt that you didn’t recognise him, but it had been years, so many, none of which had been kind to you. “My name is Julian Alfred Pankratz.”

“Dandelion!” The reprised title spun from y/n's tongue, remembering the nickname that she had given the now gentleman all those years ago, when he was nothing more than a persisting boy that made her flash an unashamed laughter in the midst of poised quality showrooms of noble gatherings. "I remember you." She dwelled on the fact, if she weren't clothed in only a shrill and frayed blanket that was pebbled with small dots of soil, from where it had been laid on the ground, y/n surely would have jumped up and spun her arms around his 'sexy goose' neck.

"You've got to be kidding me, it is just my luck that the pair of you know each other." Geralt crossed his arms, shaking his sleek silver head, being deprived of attention as he spoke. "Is there any way to get yourself out to get you out of this prospected curse of turning into a bear, y/n?"

"To be betrothed to a man, confirmed with a kiss resonating true love, though, nobody with any sense would put themselves in that position for me, there is no wealth to my name anymore, nor is there relevance with my heritage, for there is nothing that remains, as you have confirmed for me. This man must certainly be one of a kind, for he has to pledge his loyalty solely to me, forbidding himself from ever being with another woman again."

The mention of a lack of sense reminded Geralt of one man in particular, and he was stood right beside him. But it couldn't have been Jaskier, of all people, and- Geralt found himself overcome with dread as the bard stepped forward, crunching his shoed feet into the withered grass, closer to the rediscovered princess.

"I have waited my whole life to see you again." Oh god, here he went, Geralt thought. "When we were younger, I was infatuated with you, and here we are, united again in a union. If my betrothal means nothing then you will remain in this shrine of gloom, but to me, it would mean everything to me."

"Y/N come on, have some sense, it-" There was lack of reason for Geralt to continue speaking, as y/n sprung up, the blanket flowing down from her shoulders, baring her body cold to the crisp air, as her hands clasped both sides of Jaskier's face, and pressed her lips to his.

The witcher cringed, turning away as the pair practically ate the other's face, like starved animals that had been distanced for many years, which in their case was true. "Do you know if the curse is broken, is there any indicator if so?"

A hum fell from y/n's mouth as Jaskier's hand traced the curve of her spine, causing Geralt to scoff. That was the only response he earned, and to a high stake, it disgusted him. "I think I'm just gonna let you two have some time to yourselves, I guess we will see in the morning if you're being mawled by a bear you flippant."

And thus he walked away, leaving the two to pursue their primitive instincts, under the blessed moon, and on the routed curfew on the dark and dead land of Arafell.

#jaskier imagine #jaskier x reader #jaskier x you #jaskier fluff #jaskier fic #jaskier oneshot #jaskier x y/n #jaskier imagines #jaskier one shot #jaskier fanfiction #Jaskier reader insert #the witcher x you #The witcher jaskier x reader #the witcher x reader #joey batey x you #joey batey x reader #the witcher fluff

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httphonsool · 4 years

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synopsis; a drabble series in which you manage to conquer the great, brooding spymaster’s heart.

warnings; interrogation, mentions of torture, being held captive, chains are mentioned

tag list; @grandpascurtains @shit-loads-of-angst

notes; to help with the backstory, in this High Fae have glamoured all Fae’s existence so that humans would forget about their existence altogether. And I guess this is enemies to lovers? Not really, it’s going to be more of a playful relationship at first but you’ll see. this series took a while to plan out, and writing’s been so hard for me lately so it’s hard for me to say when the next drabble in this series will be or if this will even be continued, if you guys enjoy this, please let me know if you’d want more and feel free to send an ask in my ask box if you have any requests, i can’t promise you i’ll get your ask quick but i do read and answer all of them :) okay thank you, i hope you enjoy

“Are you willing to tell me now?” He asks, sighing out of dissatisfaction.

“What am I supposed to tell you?” You swallow down the lump in your throat, tears of frustration welling in your eyes, “I don’t even know where I am.”

“I cannot believe,” the stranger breathes, his bewitching hazel eyes cutting through your own, “that out of all the villains and monsters in this world, it was a weak, mortal spy that broke the wards to this realm.”

You’re confused, in all honesty. A spy? A spy? You’re not sure what you did, where you are, how you even got here, but you’ve been locked up in this same cell for around three days now and the dark, brooding stranger questioning you seems to know far more than what you can offer. Yet he stays questioning you.

You almost foolishly tried to rip the shackles tying you to the wall off of your wrists

“Maybe if you actually tell me where we are, who you are, I could help.”

“Prythia.” That’s all he says, flexing his wings and leaning against the bars of the cell holding you hostage. It took you a while to realise this man had wings, wings that you had not noticed as they blended into the darkness surrounding him.

“I don’t know what that is.” You tell him honestly, “it might help to go into a bit more detail.”

“So maybe you’re not a spy. Tell me, human, how did you break the wards to the fae realm?” You must be dreaming. It’s all just an overdramatic dream, perhaps even a nightmare, one that you can’t make sense of.

Growing up, you’ve only ever been taught that faeries, beasts as such only ever existed in stories, myths and fairytales made by travellers from overseas to scare you; for a form of entertainment, but right now you are anything but entertained.

“I want to go home.”

“Hmm, it seems like the High Lords really did glamour our entire existence,” he scoffs, “I can’t believe it was a helpless human girl that broke our wards, Cauldron, you can’t go home now.”

“You seem so powerful, why haven’t you just tortured things out of me?”

“You wouldn’t have survived a day with our torture methods.”

Tears drip down the sides of your face, the frustration and days of being interrogated to an extreme finally taking over you, “Take me home, now,” you’re barely breathing, “or at least take me out.”

“Mm, I need to consult my High Lord first.”

“And then?”

“And then we’ll see how to handle you.”

The sound of metal clanging and hollow footsteps wake you up, the time you aren’t aware of, but you’ve had the two meals they provide you each day, so you’re assuming it’s late at night.

“Human.” Oh, how lovely.

“Spymaster.”

“The High Lord is unavailable at the moment.”

“Then you should’ve waited until he was available to come to me.”

The interrogator’s lip twitches up a little, his hazel eyes gleam with amusement, “I wanted to unshackle you, thought it’d relieve your discomfort slightly.”

“But if that doesn’t interest you I can leave...” he trails off, a small smirk adorning his lips.

That was a good sign, was it not?

You take time to roam your eyes around him; he certainly wasn’t ugly- quite beautiful, pretty even, rich golden skin which most likely gleamed in the sunlight, he was muscular, too, his muscles even rippled through the tight leathers he was wearing, and the hair; goodness, if Gods and Goddesses roamed the Earth, this was how they’d look in all their glory.

“And what made you think to be merciful?”

“You’re innocent, to some extent at least.”

“You still don’t fully believe me?” You voice was barely even a whisper, a squeak at most.

“It’s not about believing you, it’s about what’s at risk, it’s been 70 years since a ward was breached and a human came in,” he pauses, swallowing, “us fae thought we glamoured all of you enough for you to go by whatever ridiculous ‘history’ the High Lords had come up with to distract you lot.”

“We don’t even know you exist. I don’t even know you exist, so don’t blame me, please, I do stupid stuff all the time without knowing how I do it.” You look up at him between your brows.

Gently, ever-so-quietly, he reaches to your wrists, maintaining eye-contact, careful not to touch anything but the enchanted iron on your wrists, and unshackles you. His eyes alone could probably kill you if you allowed them too.

He leaves straight after, not saying a single word.

#azriel #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #acotar x reader #acotar #scenario #drabbles #rhysand x reader #rhysand #feyre #mor #lucien x reader #lucien vanserra #lucien

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im-totally-not-an-alien · 3 years

Text

Final Fantasy 7 prompts #75 (FINAL LIST)

1. Iflana does not trust Cloud, not one bit. She can sense the calamity inside him and wants him to leave. Too bad both her husband and daughter seem enraptured by his very existence. Her husband rambling on about his mutated and 'safer' J-cells, as if that thing could ever be considered safe. Then it was her daughter, who seemed to take him in, as though he was no more than an injured bird needing treatment.

This thing would be the death of them. She just knew it.

2. "In my world its pretty rare for monsters to talk."

The large gray rabbit riding on his head paused to consider this, "Maybe they're just stupid?"

"Duh. They're basically wild animals. They're not really like you Loppy."

"Lopmon." The bunny creature corrected. Again.

Aka Cloud wakes up in the digital world as a twelve year old and has to find his friends...with the help of his partner digimon of course.

3. Genesis used to think mermaids were one of the most beautiful creatures in Ancient lore...until he saw a blond one swallow a fish whole. He wasn't so sure after that.

4. Au where Cloud and the remnants are escaped expiraments from a non-Shinra lab. They travel to Midgar and become mercenaries.

One of them winds up being captured, prompting the other three to rescue them, but they're otherwise preoccupied by normal human things they never got to experience. Loz loves donuts and other sweets, Yazoo adores taking long hot bathes, and Kadaj always seems to have headphones on, etc.

The holy trinity are shocked when the four don't recognize Sephiroth. Genesis also nearly has a heart attack when he catches them roasting a doomrat over an open flame. "You're not actually going to eat that, are you?"

5. Hojos alarm was triggered at three in the morning. Usually this wouldn't be an issue, creatures attempted to escape Shinras (and by extention his) clutches on a regular basis. They were usually recaptured or destroyed within the hour.

What was strange was the fact that this was Jenovas alarm. His goddess tended to not move much beyond bobbing up and down in her tank.

Upon checking the security feed, he witnessed something infuriating. A blond man was holding an armful of wildflowers and bossing around three silver haired teens as they dismantled her shrine and stole her away. Jenova herself seemed...interested? Approving? He wasn't sure, but it looked like she was cooing at them. Further analysis was required.

6. Time travel au, but the whole thing is from Hojos perspective and he suffers

7. Cloud and Reeve were having a discussion about Clouds Jenova abilities and why he never used them, which eventually lead Cloud to picking up a pebble and stating, "Its not like a can just force some of my life energy into a rock and make it a planet"

And then he did. Tfw

8. High fantasy, no materia au.

Magic is rarely seen in humans, rather a tool used by monsters. On the day Clouds mother is murdered his abilities awaken, creating a powerful snowstorm that ripped the town of Nebilhiem apart.

Ten years later and the storm rages on, having grown to cover nearly the entirety of the mountain, rendering communication with nearby kingdoms difficult and travel impossible.

The famed General Rhapsodous is sent to slay whatever great beast is causing this catastrophe. When he is faced with a young man living up there in complete isolation, he chooses to stay with the mysterious man until he can locate the monster.

What will become of Cloud once Genesis discovers the truth? After all, a witch is considered a form of monster.

9. "I should have just remained a puppet!"

Genesis mulled over the words as though they alone could unravel the mystery that is Strife.

Some part of the redhead felt a little bad about using the strange man's emotional outburst against him, but things were getting desperate...

10. Time traveler au where Genesis dresses in drag to save this "Tifa" girl from the Don. He then tries to get her to go to Shinra for questioning and is punched for his efforts

11. Cloud is thrown into a world where he never existed and Shinra still reigns supreme. Worse, he has no memory of who he is or how he got there (cause Jenova destroyed them). He only has his bike and his sword and begins traveling to find a purpose, all while avoiding Shinras detection.

He often stops at inns and rest stops and often sees the same group of people. The large man with a gun arm grew suspicious from seeing him everywhere they went.

___________________________

"Go away."

The knocking came again. "I know you're in there blondie." A gruff voice replied.

"I'm not gay."

The man on the other side of the door began sputtering. "Look," another voice began, "We just need to talk."

"Yeah. Sure. Talk." He said flatly. "In the middle of the night." He went over to the door anyway. Opening it revealed the man with a gun arm and another man with wild black hair.

"Zack?" The blond blurted, startled. What was one of Shinras Supreme doing out here?!

"You remember me!" The man beamed, "SOLDIER First Class Zack Fair, at your service! Now the real question!"

The man leaned down a bit to the mysterious blonds level, "Who are you?"

12. "Can you do it?" The softness of Denzels voice seemed to make the situation all the more horrifying. "Can you kill me?" Eerie mako green eyes stared up at where Cloud stood frozen.

Denzel pulled a knife from the block, "Or will your son kill you?"

Aka Seph plays mind games by possessing the kids from Advent Children and using them to torment Cloud and make him look like a lunatic

13. Cloud gets sent back in time/ alternate reality, ect. but gets turned into a white materia. He's careful not to roll around while people are looking, but that doesn't stop people from saying, "Hey, look! A materia! " and picking him up. He has no real power...other than apparently soothing anyone/anything he comes into contact with.

Strangely, he keeps getting slotted into bracers (among other things) regularly. Ya'll, he's so annoyed.

14. There were two of him. Two Sephiroths. The blond began regulating his breathing, desperately trying to ward off an ensuing panic attack. He wouldn't stand a chance if they decided to work together.

Luckily, one insulted the other and thus a catfight of epic proportions began, all while Cloud had a panic attack in some long forgotten closet.

15. Au where child Sephiroth overhears a scientist talking about her 'prayers being answered' and he asks her what that meant. After a brief explanation, he later prays to anyone who can hear him to get him out of the labs and/or away from Hojo.

It works.

Bonus: Cloud and Sephiroth were fighting again in the Midgar desert when Sephiroth slashed the air, creating a portal. He had intended to use it to appear behind his puppet and impale him again, but the blond rushed forward and slashed through the portal with his own sword, expecting the portal to disappear as he sailed through were it once was.

Unfortunately, it was still very much there. Just...different. Cloud wasn't given the chance to properly examine it before the feeling of being plunged into ice water overwhelmed him and he was spat out on the other side.

It was another desert, but not like the one he left. He could feel no life here. No plants, no animals, no...no lifestream. The only thing around is another version of him. One that was used and abandoned by the Sephiroth of this world.

The other blond stared at him in confusion, wielding twin sabers in a defensive position.

#ff7 #sephiroth #ffvii #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 #genesis rhapsodos #angeal hewley #ff7 story prompts #tumblr prompt

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lady-of-the-lotus · 3 years

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Xue Yang has brought Xiao Xingchen back to life. With the daozhang having no memory of the day he died, the two couldn't be happier.

But as for Song Lan…

Trapped in a paperman form by Xue Yang and imprisoned in a glass jar, he’s forced to watch his greatest enemy play house with a still-healing Xiao Xingchen.

Something Xue Yang is doing a horrifically good job of.

Xuexiao & unrequited Songxiao - M (T tbh) - 2.4k - Read on AO3! This is actually pretty fluffy, so be warned

* * * *

The jar is as tall and wide as a man’s hand. Inverted, it sits on the windowsill facing the Coffin House’s only room, giving Song Lan a full view of the bed.

Xue Yang has placed the jar there on purpose, he knows. So that he can’t help but watch Xue Yang lie beside Xingchen every night, watch him hold him when he wakes from the nightmares he’s been plagued with since his return, watch him smooth his sweaty hair from his face, watch him whisper the terror away and pull him close.

As a fierce corpse he had been compelled to stand by while Xue Yang committed atrocities, but worse was watching Xingchen awaken with a gasping cry in the center of a demonic array, was the horrifying realization that Xingchen remembers nothing of that world-shattering day six years before, remembers nothing of the monster’s true face.

He had stood there and watched as Xingchen clung to the monster, watched Xue Yang put his foul hands on him and lift him from the bloodstained array, watched Xue Yang carry him into the house while Song Lan remained outside in the rain.

And then, the next morning, as Xingchen slept, worn out from the ritual, Song Lan had been forced to stand motionless and silent in the courtyard while Xue Yang removed his consciousness and inserted it into a paperman. Heaved Song Lan's body into a coffin like so much trash, tucked his paperman form inside his robe, and gone inside to Xingchen as if nothing had happened.

“A neighborhood girl tripped and fell,” he heard Xue Yang telling Xingchen, who was awoken by the single cry of agony Xue Yang had allowed him. “A bit of a whiner. I helped her find her mother.”

And then he had placed the little paperman under the jar, and Song Lan, unable to close his nonexistent eyes, and too horrified to look away, had watched.

Watched Xue Yang slide into bed beside Xingchen.

Watched him stroke his hair.

Watched him brush a possessive thumb over each empty eye socket.

Watched him eye Song Lan as he tied on the blindfold, smirking, as if mocking Song Lan for what had happened on Baoshan Sanren’s mountain.

But almost worse is the sickening domesticity.

The monster cooks. He cleans. He shops. He sits very still while Xingchen braids his hair, the one thing Xingchen seems to be interested in since his return. He sits for hours simply watching Xingchen meditate, devouring him with his eyes as he fidgets with his own hair, pulling it out of Xingchen's careful braids.

And Xingchen—

Song Lan rests his head on the cold glass of the jar’s walls.

Xingchen is just as beautiful as he’s remembered all these years. Just as good, just as pure. A wraithlike figure in white, something not of this world. Something better than this world. A creature of moonlight and mist sharing a bed with a beast.

At least his nightmares have gradually stopped as time goes on. Nothing to do with the monster beside him, Song Lan knows. The nightmares can’t be about anyone other than Xue Yang himself. And the gradual lightening of Xingchen’s tone when he speaks, the growing frequency of his smiles, his blooming interest in the world around him, have nothing to do with Xue Yang. If Song Lan could never bring Xiao Xingchen out of his dark moods, if he always relied on a street performer, a storyteller, a passing dog or child or even a cathartic thunderstorm, there is no way that Xue Yang ever could.

The pleasure Song Lan takes in knowing the monster has not completely erased the melancholy is blotted out by guilt at his own feelings.

One day, after Xingchen has not left that tainted bed for three days, Xue Yang removes the glass jar and lifts Song Lan off the windowsill.

“Here, daozhang,” he says, digging a fingernail into Song Lan’s fragile paper leg, daring him to try to escape, “I made you a paperman. Remember those?”

“A-Qing used to love them…”

A shadow crosses Xue Yang’s face. “I promised you I’ll find a way to bring her back too, daozhang. But only once you’re fully better. We don’t want her to worry about you, do we?”

“No…”

“Then here. Take this.” Xue Yang sets Song Lan down in Xingchen’s cupped palms.

A shudder runs through Song Lan at the touch of Xingchen’s skin. For the first time since he’s died, he can feel warmth. Xingchen’s solemn white face is mere inches away as Xingchen lifts Song Lan, one fingertip running around the edges of Song Lan’s paper body. Frantically he jumps up and down in Xingchen’s palm, trying to signal to him, trying to let him know something is wrong, very wrong—

“It’s waving at you,” says Xue Yang, and Xingchen smiles for the first time in days.

And now Song Lan watches them leave for night-hunts together, watches them return happy and breathless with blood speckling the hem of their robes, watches Xue Yang fixedly stare at Xingchen as he undresses, stripping him naked with his repugnant gaze.

Watches the oblivious Xingchen leave the monster gifts, watches the monster sneer at the jar each morning as he takes the candy off the bed, watches the monster slip the candy in his mouth as if he’s consuming a part of Xingchen himself.

“I bought you seeds,” Xue Yang tells Xingchen one morning, a month after Xingchen returned, a year, a decade; Song Lan can’t tell. He can’t sleep, has no respite from his thoughts, and the days and night have blurred into a hazy nightmare. “I thought you might like to garden.”

Xingchen’s face lights up.

Song Lan has never seen him smile like that before.

“You remembered,” he says softly.

Xue Yang grins at Xingchen, winking at Song Lan. “I promised you a garden, daozhang, and I keep my word.”

Song Lan is filled with a cold rage, though he’s not sure whom it’s directed at. Xingchen had always wanted a garden, to put down literal and figurative roots, to sow life after so many years spent with a blade in his hand.

It seems like a lifetime ago since he’d told this to Song Lan, lying awake one one night during their travels. Whispered it to him as if it were a dark secret, as if he didn’t think he should have those desires, as if settling down was selfish, as if it meant he could no longer help people.

That was the night they had first spoken of founding their own sect. Of what it would mean. Song Lan had promised Xingchen a garden on the sect grounds…

A flower garden, Song Lan had promised. Xingchen had wanted a vegetable garden like the ones back on his mountain, but Song Lan had preferred flowers. No filthy fertilizer needed, no rotting compost or constant care. They would be away frequently, he had pointed out, training new disciples and night-hunting, and Xingchen wouldn’t have time to tend to a vegetable garden….

And Xingchen had agreed, he reminds himself. Xingchen agreed to a flower garden...

Xue Yang has torn up a large section of the sunniest part of the courtyard, right outside Song Lan’s window. Song Lan watches as they till the earth, watches as they spread fertilizer, watches as Xingchen plants seeds.

Watches him squeeze the monster’s hand in thanks. Watches the terrible joy on the monster’s face as he realizes the success of his manipulation. Watches Xingchen’s delight as he feels the first shoots poke up through the earth. Watches him work for hours side by side with the monster, weeding and watering and pinching insects off the leaves.

Watches Xingchen’s smiles grow more and more frequent, hears his laughter come more readily.

Watches him turn the Coffin House into a home.

The first buds are hanging fat and yellow on the vine when Xingchen turns to Xue Yang. They're in bed early, bathed in the soft pink glow of sunset, lying there listening to Xue Yang tell stories. Xue Yang is in just his trousers, Xingchen in his thin white inner robe, made pink by the blushing light. Song Lan cannot feel the air but the evening seems warm, the door left open with a quiet breeze rustling the poems left on the table.

“Chengmei,” he hears Xingchen say, “I…”

“What is it?” Xue Yang nuzzles Xingchen’s neck, and Song Lan wishes he had a mouth to scream with. The sight of the foul creature touching Xingchen, soiling him with his filth—

Song Lan had never dared so much as touch Xingchen. Song Lan had never dared lay so much as a finger on him, no matter how much he may have confusingly wanted to. Song Lan had treated him as he deserved to be treated—

Xingchen’s voice is soft. “…Thank you for my garden.”

“Our garden,” Xue Yang says, almost teasingly. He’s playing with Xingchen’s hair, twirling the silken black strands around his finger, sliding it over his lip as if he likes the feel of its smoothness. “The flowers are about to open, I think, not that I know the first thing about gardening.”

“I think you’ve done wonderfully.”

“Well, those farming books helped.”

Xingchen swallows. Song Lan knows that swallow. He wants to ask something, and he’s not sure how it will be received. “I….”

“Don’t be shy, daozhang.” Xue Yang presses his face against the spotless white marble of Xingchen’s throat, inhaling deeply. “I know you want a new roof with jade tiles and red trim, maybe a gold-leaf tea set...”

Xingchen laughs. “Not exactly. I was, well…”

He blushes.

Song Lan has never seen him blush like that before.

Xingchen’s hand moves slightly, resting gently on Xue Yang’s waist, and the monster sits up with a start, biting his lip with a sharp white tooth. “All that wet dew on the buds give you ideas?” he says, and it’s so vulgar, so completely unmoored from anything preceding it, that Song Lan, stoic as he is, would have gasped had he any lungs.

And Xingchen laughs.

A red-faced, embarrassed laugh, but a laugh with mirth in it too. “That’s not quite —”

Xue Yang pins him to bed and kisses him full on the mouth.

Song Lan mentally holds his breath. Xingchen will shove him away, scratch him, fling him off him with words of icy reprobation—

Xingchen wraps his legs around Xue Yang and kisses him back.

A chill of horror freezes Song Lan’s paper body.

“I’ve waited for this for years,” Xue Yang breathes, and Xingchen pulls him down closer, devouring his mouth with his, fingers curling into Xue Yang’s bare back, leaving faint pink lines in the scarred skin.

“So is this why you brought me back?” Xingchen asks when he finally pulls away.

Song Lan has never heard him be so teasing before.

Xue Yang’s eyes widen. In all their years together, it’s the first time Song Lan has seen that shade of alarm on him. “You know I’ve never once so much—all I did was, you were the one who—I would have been more than fine simply—”

“I’m joking, A-Mei,” says Xingchen, and, smiling, he pulls Xue Yang back down, rolls him over on his back—

Song Lan looks away.

Tries to, anyway.

But merely hearing Xingchen whisper endearments to the monster, hear the pants and moans and whimpers, is even worse. There is no way it can be as dreadful as his imagination makes things out to be—

Xue Yang, spread out under Xingchen, looks Song Lan dead in the face and grins.

And Xingchen, pale skin flushed pink, back arched, lost to all thought other than the beast beneath him—

Song Lan looks away again.

It seems like an eternity before the bed stops rocking into the wall, before the pants and gasps die down to a dreamy hum.

“I missed you,” Xue Yang murmurs into Xingchen’s mouth, holding him tightly to his chest, fingers buried deep in his hair. “I never thought that..I never…”

“I’m not going anywhere, Chengmei…not before we harvest, anyway. I want to taste the sweet peas I worked so hard on.”

Xue Yang pulls away from Xingchen.

Xingchen sits up, reaching for him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“I was just joking, A-Mei.” Xingchen’s hand slides down Xue Yang’s bare arm, clasping his wrist. “This is our home now. We can even adopt a dog if you want.”

Xue Yang swallows hard, but his lips twitch. He looks at Song Lan again, but his eyes dart away quickly, as if the monster is actually capable of true emotion. “I’m more of a cat person myself.”

“Two cats, then.” Xingchen sits behind Xue Yang, sliding his arms around him. “We can name them Yin and Yang.”

Xue Yang laughs. “Is that the best you got?”

Xingchen wrinkles his nose. Song Lan has never seen him so relaxed before. “You come up with the names, then, and I’ll find the kittens.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Xue Yang rises, gently untangling Xingchen’s hand. Naked, he pads to the door and stands gazing out over the starlit courtyard. The once-grim courtyard has erupted in a riot of life over the past few months, each coffin an island in a sea of greenery, with wayward vines twining up over Song Lan’s window and framing the panes.

“Look,” he says, almost inaudibly. “The buds are opening…”

Xingchen wraps himself in his robe and comes to stand beside Xue Yang. “ ‘Look’?”

Xue Yang grins suddenly and grabs Xingchen’s wrist, tugging him out into the moon-drenched garden. He whispers something Song Lan can’t catch and Xingchen laughs, the laugh floating in to Song Lan on the soft night breeze.

“Yellow flowers,” he hears Xue Yang saying. “Yellow flowers clinging to green vines wound around tall bamboo trellises, purple buds on the end of thick drooping stems, a carpet of green waving in the breeze…”

“I never knew you were such a poet, Chengmei.”

“You’re rubbing off on me, daozhang…” He raises a suggestive eyebrow, then hesitates, as if fearing he’s gone too far.

But Xingchen laughs, so hard Xue Yang has to slip his arms around him to keep him upright. And Xingchen trips, dragging them both down into a row of bok choy.

Song Lan looks away, but Xingchen’s laugh is all around him, dancing through the garden, filling the small glass jar.

He's ever heard him laugh like that before.

AO3! If you liked this, spare a reblog for a humble fic writer? 👉👈

#mdzsnet #xiao xingchen #xue yang #song lan #xuexiao #mdzs #the untamed #fymdzs #dailyuntamed

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blushing-starker · 3 years

Text

Of sleeping angels and forgetful lovers

im back y'all, enjoy

Tony slips between the billowing curtains, careful to make his arrival as silent as possible: there is an angel slumbering just a few feet away and God help whoever awakens them with anything less than a kiss and sweet murmurs.

Not wanting to be struck down by another celestial deity twice in a millennia, he carefully maneuvers around the scattered objects on the marble floor; a low table straining under the weight of scrolls, thick manuscripts and what honestly seems to be a stone tablet; a few chests clumsily tipped over, gold, silk and fragrance oil bottles spilling from them luxuriously. Surprisingly enough, Tony has to avoid staining four lace dresses thrown on the floor.

Poor thing. Any admirer of the creature basking inside this chamber should have known better. It's an insult to even suggest a holy being should disgrace themselves by wearing anything lesser than silk or pure gossamer. Ignorant gnat is probably swimming in the underground by now.

Still. It would be rude to tarnish a gift that isn't his to rip apart and incinerate. His lover would take pleasure in doing that himself. So he moves his body to the side, inhaling sharply when the wind shifts a garment closer to his dusty lower half. Oh, he'd get back at the wind god after this.

To honestly believe he's ancient and unable to persevere under the childish attack, how ridiculous. The offending yard and a half of pink lace (angels tended to take up more space than human minds could comprehend, but the ones who liked to roam the Earth often diminished their size; his paramour would never dress in something that large with an altered body. He's self conscious of his low stature as it is.) flies overhead and he muffles a snicker. Asshole wind god can't calculate how much strength to use.

Finally, he's at the bed. Home at last. And then the wind blasts through the chamber and he picks up the smell. Dried blood, decomposing flesh, something musky and tangible in the air. After that comes the sound. A deep rasp, powerful and similarly fear inducing as a lightning storm amidst the sea. It's a warning growl Tony had ignored, once, an uncountable number of years before. He counts them now, hastily and quickly, because surely his nemesis has grown tired and. Well. Not slow, but certainly slower in that long expanse of time. Just as he had. Fuck.

The beast appears, a vengeful mass of writhing smoke and viridescent ash hovering near the side of the bed he's currently trapped against. His lover disliked it when he brought war to the chamber, said it reminded him of harsher times and a dying Tony; he had left his knives and whip with his second in command, had gone so far for his beloved as to purge the poison from his body. (Listen. Listen. A shit ton of years past, a moron tried to eat him. Actually hoisted him on a spit before he woke up and strangled the fucker. So what if he has poison coursing through his veins to defend himself, it's not that nonsensical.)

From the grey and green smoke, a dark head emerges. And another. And another. And four fucking others and why hadn't his lover mentioned anything, why hadn't he warned Tony of the very amused looking, incredibly spiteful monster currently hissing at him? He has no arms here, the chamber's strongest weapon was currently dozing on a six feet wide bed, soft snores muffled against fluffy pillows. Oh, if his father could see him now, facing death at the hands of his enemy rather than bring his partner back from the golden fields of dreams.

Technically, he's facing the many headed beast in favor of facing his darling, a much more wrathful creature, but his father need not know that.

Death looms closer, is rearing its ugly heads and flaunting the seven inch fangs that will most likely shred him to pieces. There are ruby droplets splattered on the neck of the monster and ah, there's the ignorant admirer. At least he won't be devoured hungrily. Granted, he will definitely be devoured slowly and tortuously no matter what.

As his vision is swarmed by the huge monstrosity, Tony thinks of his beloved. Of his soft, brown hair. A little long, a little curly and always brushed aside uselessly. (There is one lock he particularly enjoys playing with because it never grows enough to be tucked back. It often annoys his lover, but he adores that stray curl.) Soft cheeks, tinted rosy during the chilly winters, a healthy tan when summer sweeps in. Lips softer and more colorful than a rose. Dimples. They appear and he's tripping in love all over, stumbling after his lover's affection just to see the two indentations on the side of his mouth.

His body is a masterpiece, graceful and as elegant as a star. Tony adores subtle, enjoys the fine curve of his paramour's neck, takes pride in making shapely thighs tremble beneath his worshipful mouth, is set on fire when the sweetest sighs and loveliest moans slip from bruised lips. All he needs in this life is to bring happiness to his companion. And, he supposes, he has, so death won't be a complete tragedy. Although, Tony would have liked to see his beloved's eyes one last time. They shone like amber, like the heady drink the humans call whiskey.

Once, when he was shy and his darling was unsure of his intentions, he had blurted out a confession under an apple tree, words spilling, spilling, going so fast that breath abandoned his chest.

"Your eyes are like star fire. Like the sun left the sky to shine inside you. It's amazing, something so beautiful I can believe in life again. How could I not when someone as lovely as you exists so gracefully?"

They had stood there, tree branches creaking overhead, leaves drifting down slowly and bees sluggishly swimming through the air in search of flowers and the ichor of life. His companion had blinked at him and then smiled, slow and sweet and pure. Whatever breath remained in his lungs was stolen, vanished without a trace. Tony had been a goner ever since.

He thinks of that time now and discovers that he is not afraid of death. After all, his lover could simply visit him in the fields of the dead, what, with being the Angel of Death, and everything.

The hydra leans back, prepares the killing blow and he thinks, Peter.

A whisper of movement, the growl of the beast; he's ready, he's going to meet his fate head on and not falter and-

A warm hand scoops him up. He tentatively opens his eyes, is met by a bleary pair much prettier than those this body has. There is amusement there, tangled with fondness and love. It's such a beautiful sight that he melts, sinks deeper into the cradle holding him up to Peter's pillow marked face. He always had a thing for his lover's hands; they could kill with just a hint of touch, but they only ever brought Tony to life.

"Anthony," oh, to hear that teasing sigh, to be given the gift of that music, "did you forget you were in your snake body again?"

Embarrassed, he dips his head, agile tongue flickering into the air to taste Peter's affection as a distraction from the flush valiantly trying to survive in his cool cheeks. The angel before him giggles, grins at him before stroking his scaly head gently.

"You forgot about your body and the fact that Milos here is, like, three inches smaller than you when you stand up?" Tony grumbles, slithers across Peter's wrist and forearm. His lover just sighs, rolls over in bed and lets him travel all the way up to the base of a long neck. He loves Peter's entire body, of course, but this is the perfect spot to settle into while he's in this form. Lightly, because it's rude to tease him, goddammit, he's the fallen angel, not a stable boy, he nips at Peter's hair, pulls at a few strands until Peter halfheartedly swats at him.

"Just because I can revive you doesn't mean I won't kill you, Tones. I've got a hundred," his beloved yawns, drags a blanket over the both of them, "and fifty four souls to pick up in the afternoon. I can squeeze you in among them and nobody would know." A lie, obviously. His best friend James would know. The rest is true, Peter would kill him if he called on him again while it was nap time, even if it was an accident.

Thing is, now that Milos is brooding in the corner of the bedchamber and some good ten feet away from him, Tony has no need to call on his angel. Why would he, when he's right by his side? Just as he always has. Just as he always will.

With snake lives saved and fates changed, the first fallen angel and the Angel of Death fall into a deep slumber; tail and hands wrapped around each other, as it should be.

#starker #peter parker x tony stark #peter x tony #angel!peter #fallen angel!tony #sweet and fluffy yall #sophie writes #i need to at least write one #snake!tony #for the giggles

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witchersjaskier · 4 years

Note

Jaskier is really a mage, but he doesn’t use his powers too much and is determined to stay human. One day Geralt is having a lot of trouble with some monster and is wounded, so Jaskier decides to step in and kills the creature with his powers. Then he runs up to Geralt to heal him and let’s just say that the cat is out of the bag 🤷‍♀️😅

“You’re determined to go through with this, aren’t you?” she asks one night, her shoulder pressed against his, both of them staring up at the ceiling.

Julian just sighs, closing his eyes and finding her hand to squeeze. “You know I hate it,” he says quietly. “I hate myself sometimes, and it’s...I don’t want to live like this.”

“I don’t understand,” she mutters. “But I don’t have to. You will always do as you want, Julek, I could never stop you.”

He snorts, turning to look at her. She’s as beautiful as always, but colder now. He hates to see what became of her, after the centuries in the game. He’s so close to following that and he hates it.

“I will always come when you call for me, darling, you know that, but I love myself way too much to be lost like that,” Julian snickers.

She just shakes her head. “Where will you go?”

“First Lettenhove, it needs some managing. Then Oxenfurt, I shall become a bard. Then...wherever the road shall take me, my dear.”

“You and your wanderlust,” she mutters.

“Pot, meet kettle,” he fires back. “I know you long for freedom just as much as I do, darling. You love the dirt and nature and bathing in cold streams.”

Julian enjoys her laughter. “And who knows, maybe I will sing about your future student? Destiny is funny like that.”

“Goodnight, Julian,” she says pointedly, putting the candle out.

“Goodnight, Tissaia,” he whispers into the dark.

_____

Even over a century later he doesn’t regret anything. Yes, there were times when he maybe was needed, but Julian doesn’t actually enjoy cleaning everyone else’s messes so he thinks it serves them right.

He loves his life now, as the travelling bard Jaskier.

He has the road and his lute and the beautiful sunsets and terrible sunrises and his brooding Witcher with the heart of gold and his Witcher’s little witch, one he remembers still scared and determined to be beautiful. Destiny really is funny like that.

Jaskier still hates using magic, though he hates himself less. He never tells Geralt about being a mage for one simple reason - he fucking hates that part of himself, is actually ashamed of it and doesn’t want to be associated with it anymore.

He will come when Tissaia calls, as rarely as she does, but he doesn’t use magic at all now. He’s pretty good at playing human and he wants to continue doing it but well, the new monster apparently doesn’t care.

Jaskier can feel the chaos on it, some mutated pet or a mutated deranged sorcerer and Geralt is losing. Badly.

“Geralt!” he screams when the Witcher gets thrown at the rock. Something makes a bad sound and his heartbeat picks up.

“Fuck,” Jaskier whispers, watching as the monster stalks towards his Witcher. “Fuck no.”

He runs and creates a shield in the last minute before the beast jumps at Geralt. Jaskier winces but holds firm, his magic potent and surging under his skin. He bares his teeth at the monster and glances behind him to see Geralt’s crumpled but breathing form. That settles it.

No one hurts his Witcher.

Jaskier lets the shield drop and gather his Chaos, feeling a storm coming, responding to his magic. While Tissaia is all ice and Yennefer all fire, Julian is all lighting, quick and bright and deadly. He looks at the beast and spreads his fingers and lets his Chaos out, wrapping around the monster, energy surging up for a second.

In one bright blast, the monster is gone and the forest is dark again, the storm slowly calming down.

Jaskier turns around with a sigh and freezes when his gaze meets shocked gold eyes. “Well...” he trails off.

“Can I heal you?” Jaskier asks finally, looking at the blood all over Geralt who’s too shocked to do much more than blink and nod.

He drops to his knees next to his Witcher and presses a hand to his side. He’s not the best at healing but the mutations work with him on that one, and in a few minutes Geralt is as good as new.

“Surprise?” Jaskier asks, spreading his arms

“Do you hate Yen because she’s more powerful than you?” is what Geralt actually asks first and Jaskier scowls.

“What? Please, Geralt, have some respect for me. I could ruin empires long before her parents were even born,” he snorts.

Geralt just shakes his head, a small smile playing on his lips. Jaskier feels his heart warm up and they just look at each other for a long while, the smell of ozone in the air.

“You have a lot to explain,” Geralt finally says, glancing at the corpse of the monster.

Jaskier shrugs bashfully and drops down into Geralt’s lap, his arms wrapping around his Witcher’s neck. “Later,” he promises.

“Later,” Geralt repeats right against his lips, before kissing him soundly.

#witcher #the witcher #jaskier #geralt #tissaia #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #mage jaskier #ask #my writing #bamf jaskier #if you haven't noticed i love tissaia/jaskier friendship #they're bros

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roughentumble · 3 years

Text

beauty and the beast geraskier AU, jask lives in a small village but has Big Dreams, ofc. but also theres a monster who lives in a nearby dilapidated castle, who expects regular sacrifices. jaskier thinks its all bullshit, doesnt participate, tries to help people, but-- well. he's just a single bard against a whole mob. not a lot to be done about it.

then of course, one year, he's selected as the unlucky sacrifice. he's tied up, thrown through the castle gates, then abandonded there to be eaten or what else have you. (his lute is thrown in with him, insult to injury)

a giant, white furred monster steps out of the shadows, and jaskier kicks and squirms to get away, but mentally resigns himself to being eaten, only to have the beast use its claws to carefully shred the ropes, then gently lead him inside, away from the cold. it seems pretty reticent to speak, but makes jaskier promise he'll wait a few days before he leaves, then it will show him a safe way to flee.

jaskier, of course, doesnt listen.

he gets summarily dragged back, and is certain that with the creature's rage he's about to be eaten, but then it explains. it never asked for sacrifices, it never wanted human lives, it doesnt know how the people of the village got that into their heads. it's always helped the sacrifices run away to the best of its ability, but one year it got a young girl, very naive with stars in her eyes, who was certain that if she just went back home and explained, they would see its actually rather kind. so she left, and instead of running away, went back home.

and it woke up the next morning to her corpse in pieces, scattered across the lawn, and someone from town pleading for its forgiveness at them letting her escape. now they watch the castle grounds for a week after sacrifices are provided. escape attempts have to wait.

it had to bury her alone, pick up the pieces of her. goes to sleep every night knowing she's in the ground nearby, blames itself for her death.

jaskier is surprised for a moment that it-- he-- buried her... then isnt surprised at all. jaskier agrees to actually stay put this time.

unfortunately, snow comes early, and by the time villagers have left their vigil, it's no longer safe for jaskier to wander through the woods alone.

they get closer, while snowed in for the season. the beast(who reveals his name is geralt) proves to be good company, once you get past the self-loathing and the reticence to get attached to someone he knows will leave, and jaskier is delighted to have someone to play for that doesnt just dismiss him outright. he talks about his dreams to wander the continent, almost misses how quietly geralt says "i used to, before..."

he promises that once he goes out and has some grand adventures, he'll come back and tell geralt all about them in the form of epic ballads. geralt laughs and says "i'm sure you will," but it's clear that he doesnt actually believe jaskier would come back.

the ground starts to thaw. the weather gets warmer. jaskier finds some sturdy boots hidden away in an old chest, geralt gifts him a rather nice water-resistant cloak. it's time.

he makes it about two days out, before he gives in and turns on his heel, back the way he came. he knows that geralt cant leave the castle grounds, but-- but surely there must be a solution, and the ground is too wet to easily travel, and perhaps he should wait for warmer weather, and... and he misses him.

the front door is open when he gets back, and he calls out. chatters as he wanders through the halls looking for geralt, about everything and nothing and... and how he'd missed him.

he finds him... on the floor, in a pool of blood. a man with a sword standing over him. a witcher-- with the thaw came monster hunters, someone mustve finally responded to that old contract the village had put out. jaskier cries out, shouts geralt's name, and the witcher turns sharply at the sound, repeats the name with what sounds like horror in their voice, but jaskier bypasses them entirely. shoves them aside to fall to his knees at geralts side, one hand pawing at his side as if he could push the blood back inside, the other cradling his face.

"you came back?" geralt asks, his voice a strained, wheezy thing. "got... new songs for me... already?" he jokes, but his eyes are already looking dull and glassy. jaskier begs for him to stay, but he was practically gone before jaskier even got there.

"you cant die, because-- because geralt, i love you." jaskier says, then surges forward and kisses him on the mouth.

he lets out one last sigh, then stops moving.

then... starts again. but not right-- something under the skin, bones cracking with sickening snaps, the sound of flesh tearing inside, and the beast's dead face remains passive the whole time. the witcher pulls out their trophy knife and carefully cuts a slit in its stomach, and an arm shoots out. they both jump back as a man claws his way out of the beast's body, covered in blood and viscera but otherwise whole. it's disgusting. it's terrifying.

but then jaskier meets the man's eyes and he knows.

"geralt?" he asks tentatively, and the man's head snaps up.

in shedding the cursed body, he'd shed the wounds, too, and he's whole and hale(and nude, unfortunately for him) when he finally frees himself from the carnage of his transformation. his smile is brilliant, despite it all. "jaskier... you came back. you saved me." he breathes, sounding awed, and jaskier is so overjoyed he cant help but throw his arms around geralt, hold him close.

(then, of course, they get washed up.)

(and then after that, they set out on the Path... together.)

anyway thats my idea thank u *bows*

#with the curse broken the village no longer feels the need to sacrifice anyone; geralt is able to walk free as a witcher once more...#and jaskier gets to go with him.#jaskier gets what he always wanted: freedom and adventure and grand tales to tell; and geralt gets when he'd always needed- someone to love.#witcher tag #ogc tag #long post tag #thank u and good night #idea presented here becuz it wouldnt leave me alone

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some-dr-writings · 4 years

Text

Gundham’s and Kazuichi’s mangaka S/O wants to draw them

Gundham Tanaka:

· Though you were the Super High School Level Mangaka you specialized in historical fantasy! You absolutely adored doing research and finding new mythical beasts and species to sketch and incorporate into your work. It was no surprise that Gundham became your muse the moment you two met!

· Gundham would allow you to visit his creatures and draw them to use as bases for cryptids and monsters of all sorts in your manga. The four Dark Devas often acted as your pose models given how unusually animated they were for hamsters.

· Having asked the Overlord of Ice to allow you near his animals so often you spent much time together and eventually started dating.

· “My Queen, the Stringer of Fates, what curse dares to plague your soul?! You’ve not touched the pages with which you create and destroy worlds, as if it were deadly to do so! You’ve yet to search out a demon to immortalize. Not even have you greeted the four Dark Devas of Destruction as you always have.” You huffed lazily watching the rabbit Gundham was currently grooming. “Artists’ block. I can’t seem to draw or write anything. Either I just stare at a blank page for hours, or I start something which quickly dissolves into an incoherent mess!” Rubbing your temples, you grumbled at the clogged feeling fogging your mind. “I did pull a few all-nighters last week. Maybe I’m just drained. But if things keep going like this, I’ll miss my deadline! I already asked for an extension on it last week, I can’t keep doing this!”

· Gundham watched as you picked up the sketch pad and pencil. There was this stiffness in your movements. Your hand which once flowed about gracefully like a bird in flight now paved plain straight lines. Your eyes darted about unable to focus on anything. “UGH! I can’t even draw a proper circle for the rabbit’s body!” Sinking into your seat you tossed your sketch pad and pencil aside. “Perhaps a day of respite is in order.” “No, I already took a day off yesterday. I feel I’m even worse now than I was two day ago.”

· The Devas quickly scurried over to you, hopping into your lap, or climbing onto your shoulder to nuzzle your cheek. “… thanks.” Gently petting the two in your lap you sighed in defeat.

· It was at that Gundham abruptly stood up. “Where is my Queen, and what have you done with her, villain?!” “… Huh?” “MY Queen would never rot away so quickly into a decrepit state such as this! She’d fight and claw till her final breath! She’d never faulter so easily!” “I Am, your Queen.” “Hmph! No, you are not. Now, tell me where she is.” You marched right up to Gundham glaring at him. “I’m right here! I am your Queen, the Stringer of Fates!”

· It started as a chuckle which boomed into uproarious laughter! “There you are. That determination, your will to live has returned to your eyes. I am glad to have you back.” Surprisingly, you did feel like you had more energy than before. “So, shall we be off? A piece of you is still missing and we must search it out less you start to fade away once more.” “… Yeah, a date sounds nice right now.”

· As a bright blush dusted his cheeks, the Overlord of Ice took your hand into his bandaged one, the other taking your bag of sketch supplies, he led you out of the school grounds into the great beyond!

· The day was filled with fun and laughter as you raced from place to place, doing anything you could think of. A walk in the park, a trip to the arcade, lunch at a café, shopping at a bookstore, and anything else you could have dreamed of.

· As the sun began to set, Gundham and you found yourselves at the clear beach, dancing around barefoot, not a care in the world. “… Gundham. Thank you, today was amazing.” His entire face instantaneously flushed hearing his true name being called. In that moment he just looked so beautiful to you. His sheepish smile, those tender eyes, just, everything about him.

· “May I draw you?” “… Of course, my Queen.”

· And thus you drew, having completely forgotten that morning or the past few days, you were struggling.

· “Ah! Your depiction captured my true form! I should have known you could see through my mortal guise!” He so happily admired your drawing with sparkling eyes.

· While he was distracted you worked on another piece, one of a dark king holding his queen close on the soft shores of the beach.

Kazuichi Soda:

· You never held much interest in machinery till you came to Hope’s Peak and met Kazuichi. It seemed just about every time you saw him, he was tinkering with something, from a small robot toy to a monster truck engine. Often times the parts of whatever he was working on were spread out, and then seeing how they all fit together fascinated you. Without realizing it you’d end up just watching him work for hours and sketching out the pieces and tools he was using.

· Quickly this fascination bled into your own work, incorporating steampunk-esque elements into it. And the more elements you added, the more references you needed. At first you tried getting some on your own, but you’d just end up injuring your hands and fingers in some way or you’d break the pieces.

· “Look, you got me into this mess and now you have to take responsibility.” “W-what!?” Before Kazuichi could panic you placed an old, rusted pocket watch before him. “How do I disassemble this!?” For a week or two after you’d bring some new item to Kazuichi to disassemble and reassemble. You eagerly sketched out the pieces you needed the references of and more.

· Quickly you and Kazuichi became friends. You would chatter away as you did your own things. Before you knew it the two of you ended up spending time together just to be together, no drawing and no tinkering.

· Kazuichi would go to you for advice for his unrequited crush on Princess Sonia to which you’d try your best to help, even if it did hurt a little given your crush on the mechanic. She wasn’t the only thing he spoke of though, so you had plenty of other conversations.

· Kazuichi certainly liked chatting so when one day he was quiet you got a bit worried… Then you remembered something. “Oh Soda. You’ve never been on a school trip before, right?” “Hmm, uh, yeah. I skipped out on the only one I got a chance to go on.” “Because of financial issues, right.” “Yeah.” “Well, I happen to be going on a trip all over Europe for background references and I was thinking who better to take along than my best friend and best mechanic I know!” The news certainly perked him right up, and he excitedly chattered on about traveling! Quickly the news spread, and it ended up becoming a class trip! Honestly, though a trip alone with Soda sounded lovely, you more enjoyed seeing how ecstatic he was to be going on an actual class trip with everyone.

· The trip was fantastic, it seemed to be nonstop fun. Often you’d forget that you were being payed to go on this trip for work and that you needed to get reference materials, thankfully Mikan took more than enough reference photos for you.

· Though during the trip, you noticed how Kazuichi, though still friendly, was a bit more reserved than usual. When you asked him what was wrong, he said he appreciated the concern, but it was something he had to work out on his own.

· Eventually your trip took you all to France the city of love. The place was certainly an artist’s dream, you found yourself drawing nonstop there. It was amazing!

· At one point in your trip your class wanted to get to a restaurant at the top of a rather large hill, but the only way to get there was via a thin road by car. So, you, Kazuichi, Sonia and your driver were the last to get to the restaurant.

· Then the car broke down. Kazuichi immediately went to check the engine while Sonia stood at the edge of the road, looking out at the sunset. It was a gorgeous sight, her profile, the sunset, the city lights, everything. You had started sketching out the scenery when a though struck you.

· You elbowed Kazuich, gaining his attention. You then leaned in real close while still looking at Sonia, not noticing the blush spreading on his cheeks as he kept looking to you. “Hey Soda, now’s your chance. This view is absolutely romantic, and you’re in the city of love. Don’t you think this is the perfect time to ask out the girl you like?” This hurt, it really did, but seeing how happy he was to be going on a school trip without worry like he always wanted, you could hardly imagine his joy if Sonia got together with him at a time like this. It hurt, but you just wanted to see him happy.

· “… Ask out the girl I like, huh…… Okay.”

· Turning to you he placed his hands atop your shoulders. “Y/N I have a crush on you. Please go out on a date with me.” “… Wait? I thought… what about Nevermind?” “I, well, yeah, I do like her, but… I really like you… I… That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out lately and... so I... You get it, don’t you!?” “… Soda, please let me draw you!” “Huh?” “Well, if we start going out, we’ll be boyfriend and girlfriend, right? I’d like to have something to commemorate the moment by.” “S/O!” He pulled you into a tight hug, giddy out of his mind.

· You ended up drawing him at the restaurant. He loved the drawing so much he took a picture to use as his phone’s lock screen. From then on you often drew him for references for poses and though all great, his favorite would forever be the first one you made of him. It was made to celebrate you getting together, it was always so special to him.

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 4 years

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Witcher Of The Night (Chapter 4)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

CHAPTER 3

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Ciri wanted chicken and so she gets one. Y/N needed warmth amongst the cold weather in the Forest of Kaedwan and she'd received more than a warmth for her body as it traveled straight to her heart; warming her soul. Even getting some sort of comfort from the witcher himself. Other than that, Geralt had a lead on where the sorceress was. Though, right now he needed her to help you Plus, he also had other options other than that.

Warnings: FULL OF Y/N AND GERALT FLUFF. ❤ Geralt is an asshole at first because of certain reasons. 😂 Blood and animal killing in this one. Smiling, soft Geralt, tho still having that stoic expression of his of course. Gotta write him completely in character. 😂 Also, a Hirikka is here and will be on the next chapter!

Words: 3,900+

A/N: There's a part 2 for this chapter. It'll be a chapter 4.1 but will be posted after 2-3 days. ^u^ I couldn't put them together because it'll be 8-9k words long. 😅😂 Sorry, if I write long ass chapters and the pace is still slow. I need to develop their characters, relationship and such. The places said here are from the game however it isn’t accurate and I just made my own direction. Like how I try to make my life go in the right path but failing and actually walking on the wrong path. LMAO. Also, I’m making a masterlist for WOTN! 🤗

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE!

Disclaimer: PNG's used in edits are not mine even the GIF's too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi. Characters, places and said monsters aren't from moi as well.

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

"Do you not...have cars, Geralt? Or motorcycles?"

You've panted like you were having a marathon, palms falling on your knees as you took a breather; seeing a small cottage on the far end of the shallow path in the forest.

It was a smaller house that had a fence with chickens, goats and pigs segregated by kind. The home was a sandy shade of yellow and a slip of brown which was also made just like how Geralt's have been.

No answer was given to you other than how he was hauling Roach back to look at you who were walking along side with him; not bothering to even ask you for a ride. It's not like you were hoping he would. Based on the change of mood he'd gotten, you were sure he won't lend you his horse to lessen your difficulty in traveling bare foot.

You've already asked what his horse's name was. He simply answered with the word 'Roach', allowing you to touch the horse as she neighed. Much to someone's dismay; specifically a bard who happened to saw the whole interaction, left a mutter to himself.

"Why does the midget get to touch Roach in haste and I don't?!" Jaskier muttered rather in disbelief. The Witcher fixing his black, hooded wool cape attached to his shoulders, giving him a subtle hum with the gravel of his voice.

Jaskier huffed for the third time, hands on his hips as he watched the scene before him with incredulity in his baby blue peepers. You happily caressed her crest as Geralt fixed things on the leather bag attached to the horse's hip.

"Geralt---" Jaskier started but was cut off with a insouciant scold from the man himself, "Don't call her midget," he cut him off without even paying him attention. Jaskier gave a nod; a grin molding his face leading to mischief at the chide given.

Jaskier took a step close and planned to give Roach's crest a caress but his stern friend was fast enough to cease his wishes, "Still, don't touch roach," Geralt quickly mumbled as he felt Jaskier's plan on touching his horse. The bard slyly grabbed onto his own hair, brushing them through his locks like he wasn't about to pet Roach. Geralt closed the bag with a soft click, giving him the side-eye; voice firm and full of derision, "I don't want you singing a song about my horse in the near future,"

Which is why you were walking on your own now with Geralt's good will on making you handle the death march rather like a happy child.

It was probably okay, you thought at the back of your mind. Walking, that is. Exercising in the morning was great, except that if it weren't too chilly unlike him who have gotten a full armor and gear out of his closet like he'd gone out of a magazine or animè. The sword on his back even giving you shivers, but a different kind because of how tough looking he had as his exterior.

You shook your head as he just looked back at you. That look of his that was filled of inquiry; asking you what you were saying in the back of your mind. A huff of pure exhaustion was given to The Witcher before you sauntered forward, leaving the man eyeing you with sass and a high raise of his bushy brow.

Geralt followed through along with Roach as he pulled her reins, slowly galloping as he analyzed your form from behind. His buttoned up tunic that reached the ends of your thighs with a weird kind of foot ware that certainly doesn't help with the crispy, brisk temperature of the forest.

Geralt gravelly sighed, watching you struggle with scrubbing your legs together as you pathetically strolled forward and onto the place that he'd pointed. He was too engrossed at seeing you struggle when he has heard a slight twig breaking from afar, catching his senses and making him look to where it came from.

"Midget," The Witcher tried calling you with that deep voice of his in the middle of the woods. Though, to no avail; you never heard him coherently and continued your stroll through the forest; hollering a message without even looking back because of the mere exhaustion.

"You're too slow, Geralt, like an old man! I'm exhausted!"

He breathed out his vexation of your naivety that you weren't strolling in your world. You were walking in theirs and having your own little dimension while you walk by yourself can be pretty dangerous.

Geralt heard the crack of another wood. It was from behind a large hickory tree. He doubtfully grabbed onto the handle of his sword wrapped behind him; halfway unsheathing the sword and contemplating if he needed to jump off his horse when suddenly a medium sized Hirikka came into his view, maybe an inch shorter than you. Those eyes that were doe, just like yours whenever you wanted something and eventually getting it from him.

"You're hungry, aren't you?" Geralt asked the Hirrika. The tone in his voice softer and in awe. He'd rummaged through his bag without taking his Aurum, blazing eyes away from the harmless creature, feeling an apple inside his bag and threw it as the Hirikka caught it with its own two paws.

"Don't get yourself killed out there,"

Thus, he began to follow you as fast as possible before you even get yourself harmed from any monsters. When he'd seen you leaning on the fences of Cuthberth's home, he didn't know he has been holding a breath for as long as he could remember without seeing the sight of you.

You were making him insane for not even waiting for him and thinking what would've attacked you in the forest of Kaedwan.

Cuthbert was feeding the chickens inside their palisades. His friend thought you were lost but you've said that you came for the purpose of buying chickens with a man. He was friendly enough to give you chitter-chatter while waiting for Geralt to follow you from behind. It took minutes before he arrived with a complete set of body parts; so the worry of him being killed off by a monster was thrown in the dumps.

As he rode his horse closer, you've had the chance to admire the beauty edging to be seen. You were in awe as his mere self was enough to get you ogling at the man treading near. Never seeing such a man like that who wore armors in his everyday life except from seeing Cosplayers in certain conventions that seemed so fake rather than Geralt who felt real. Too real that you were pondering if he was just a mere hallucination or a fantasy of yours.

He was definitely eye-candy. Dashing. Ravishing. Beyond gorgeous.

Cuthbert saw them coming and so, his expression turned wild with a grin. His dirty fingers scratching his bald head in excitement as he jogged out of the fences with a giddy self. "Oi! You didn't tell me it's the infamous Geralt of Rivia, elfin!"

Famous. He's famous? you thought to yourself before keeping your eyes away from the witcher who had already jumped down his horse and gave you a look; asking what was wrong because you were staring like there was a problem at hand.

You didn't need to tell him that your heart was actually the problem. It was always skipping a beat whenever he'd pay a glimpse to stare at your eyes.

A soft clear of your throat, your fist covering your mouth as you do and you eyed Cuthbert inquisitively, "Is he famous? Famous for what? Is he an actor? Model? The king of this kingdom or something?"

Cuthbert patted his dirty hands on his soiled apron full of flour, a hand on his hip while the other reaches out for Geralt's powerful looking shoulder in attempt to give him a pat. The animal butcher's forest green eyes coruscant of fervor. Geralt's initial response was to give him a smile back with the man's excitement in seeing him again, "This lad's a something! Kills all types of beasts, vampires, dragons, huge kikimores---"

You coughed out loud, making them snap their heads from where you stood. Cuthbert's words sounded too surprising to be true. As much as you remembered, vampires only existed in the movies and games; not in the real life survival of people. His words caught you off-guard, "Vamp--vampires? There's vampires here, Cuthbert? Even dragons?"

Geralt looked at you, utmost jaded. The way your voice stuttered alerted him that you were scared or probably still unfamiliar--still illiterate of their world since he was doubting to give you all the information ahead if you abruptly disappear out-of-nowhere with the knowledge of the continent; their world. It would be very much dangerous for it to be compromised especially that you had the experience in teleporting to their dimension.

Cuthbert gave a loud laugh, not believing the strangeness of your words, "You're actin' like yer’ never been here before! I thought yer’ were livin' with the Witcher?! You should ask the white wolf, here! He's killed hundreds! Maybe even thousands!"

You've fluttered your eyes closed, trying to calm yourself from running off the forest and getting yourself killed just like the horror movies you've watched. You've called them idiots, now wasn't the time to call yourself one as well.

Though, you were completely unaware of Geralt's gaze which consist an ample amount of worry. You continued your rambles in a hushed whisper, "I'm not just in a freakin' game that have monsters, but even a live-action movie of Twilight. This is great, real great."

The Witcher clenched his teeth, gradually turning his body to you without moving his soles. His forehead creasing as he could feel your heart beat quickening, "Are there also wolves? Big bad wolves here?" your voiced lowering a miniscule, sounding diminutive.

His friend gave off a shrug, his mouth forming a thin line when he did so as he scratched his whitened beard, "We may never know what this world can bring, Elfin! It always brings out the worst of everythin'!"

At the confident mention of that, you've felt your chest tightening with the knowledge of having vampires and dragons around. What if you died in their world? Would you also be dead in earth? Geralt licked his Crimson lips, staring down at you with utmost comfort that he could give. Yet, he failed at that with how stoic his expressions can get. Though, his eyes were exempted because his feelings can be read through those stern, Aurum eyes.

Midway, he'd lift his burly armor-coated arms to plan and give your back a caress to calm you down; but he was immediate enough to drop it down considering that maybe even a touch to the hand would calm you because he'd seen it trembled. If only he was thoroughly direct towards you; he would in a heart beat.

"Don't panic, Midget." The roughness of his voice; that definite amount of timbre. It was the only word you've heard from him. Short but straightforward. Even so, still the only thing that calmed you down through out all your panic attacks back in earth and even in their world.

Cuthbert has seen Geralt's attempt of comfort; even seeing his eyes shift in a way that nobody else could. He had a smirk on his face, scrubbing that beard he was owning, "Who is she, Witcha'? Another one of those clingy harlots of yours?"

Geralt turned his head to see Cuthbert smirking. The way his eyes changed into a lethargic faze meant that the witcher was mantling the emotions he was having or probably having no idea that he was feeling it yet; in denial of the state he was in.

"---Or the trouble and strife?"

The witcher knew what he meant and decided to let those words fall out of his ear to the other. His hands clasping together on his front as he straightened his back, cocking his head to the side as he narrowed his eyes on the latter, "We need...chickens," Cuthbert raised his eyebrows in astonishment, "You cook now, witcher?"

No words were said besides from a satisfied hum as the chickens clucked before the butcher of animals. The panic died down because of Geralt's voice and you've finally had the will to insert yourself in the conversation.

"I do!" you excitedly exclaimed, stepping a foot closer to Geralt and the witcher was aware of it, giving you the side-eye, "---also, do you have any spices please?"

Cuthbert nodded in comprehension, sending a playful wink to The Witcher and scrubbing his hands together as he also gave you a rogouish smile, "Oh, that kind. The little woman, Geralt! Literally because this elfin is quite short but fetching nevertheless!" Geralt gave him an apathetic blink of an eye, sighing from the talkativeness of the man.

But, also worth it if he could see those anticipated beams of yours as you stood beside him.

The latter gave out a loud sigh, seeming to be in his head space as he talked his thoughts out loud, "---I remember how Gisela cooks Flamiche for me whenever I go home from me' hunt! Though, that woman seldom does it anymore considering how Bridgely gets her attention a lots!"

Geralt gave him that daunting smile of his; wanting to tell the man to just butcher the heck out of the chickens already as he wanted to get it over with. You gave Cuthbert a wide smile, oblivious of Geralt's taunting gaze back at the man. He suppressed a laugh and nodded to himself; quickly running off to Geralt's wishes.

As the chicken was being slaughtered across the fence, Geralt was thoroughly unaware that you were already sniffing and crying because it was all out in the open and you could see how it was being killed. He watched you look over the fence and inspect Cuthbert cutting its head off and it made you shriek, warm tears falling on the sides of your face while watching how much pity you've given to the chicken.

Geralt did a double-take, eyeing you and where you were staring at and saw how you were crying over a chicken being slaughtered. He wanted to laugh because of how you were being sad over it. However, he decided against so as to not offend you when you were just pouring your heart out in this one.

"I thought...you wanted chickens?" the witcher pondered, leaning away from the fence and facing you instead with that amused glint in his eyes.

You've sniffed hard, patting your nose with his clothes that you were wearing from; the snot wanting to come out of its cave. You gazed up at him; eyes damp and reddish from the cries. "I did, Geralt! But not for it to be killed like this!" you hiccuped from all the bawling that has happened, "---It was better to be bought in a supermarket!"

The way you cry always made a pinch inside Geralt's heart. A kind where he would try and do everything to make it stop because you were annoying but also irresistible.

His lips lifted in a slight beam, looking around the forest before peering down at your sobbing thyself. "There, there," surprisingly, Geralt cooed before you; stopping your weeps short as you gaped at the tall witcher. His chiseled face warped in clear softness and mirth, "---for a bountiful feast requires death in exchange for us to be sated,"

The amazing color of his eyes gleamed more under the sun. You couldn't help but outstare back at him with that stupefied look of utter adoration. You snapped out of your daydream when he was waiting for a witty retort but you've loudly cleared your throat; the heat travelling to your neck. Before it can even reach your face, you turned your head back to look at Cuthbert who was now grinning back at you; holding the headless chicken up for you to see. Its blood dripping down the ground as he mouthed a 'what do you think?' back at you and Geralt to tell you if the size of the chicken was a-okay.

Your face quickly morphed into a wince, another mourn about to come to light when you've felt a warm hand on your shoulder; shooting lightning to your spine as you jumped from the physical touch. Geralt gently turned your body around; away from the panorama of chicken slaughter. The way his lips lifting in a small, soft smile never leaving yet. "Don't look at it,"

A huff was sent to the latter, "I can't! It's making noise!"

"Then cover your ears," Geralt's brow raised in sarcasm. Though, those playful sparkle never dying down. You narrowed your eyes back at him, an annoyed crease of your forehead as you explained and raised your hands back at him. It looked dull and definitely freezing, "But, my hands are shaking from the cold!"

Geralt studied you from head to foot, noting the lack of clothes you were wearing. The smile you've grown to love fell as he sighed, looking away for a moment before a tiresome gaze of his eyes was sent to you. He held onto the string of his jet black hooded cape, unlatching it around his neck as you stared up at him in utmost curiosity.

The softness of his cape fell around your shoulders like a furnace hugging your body; better yet the soul that needed a hug after all you've experienced since the first time you've been in their world. You could feel your heart warming at the gesture of Geralt giving you his dramatic cape; even growing hotter when he was tethering the tie together; intently staring down at your face and feeling his thick, calloused fingers inches before your neck.

Maybe, an egg was worthy of using your face as a frying pan right now.

You consciously looked away from the heat of his stare. Geralt tightened the tie around your neck as you've felt the heaviness of his cape over your shoulders. He drew he fingers away from your neck, slanting his head as he never cut the gaze he had; rather than you who'd looked away because you were...blushing.

"Better?" His voice graveled, a small beam carving his face. You've reluctantly gawked back at him, giving him a reserved nod. The way you were acting looked entirely stupid, your eyes looking like those googly ones used as stickers back in your desk as you tried avoiding the intensity of his stare. You bit the insides of your cheeks, deciding to leave the exhilaration out in the back as you had the courage to look at him, "Better!---Never better, Ge-Geralt!" Regardless of the brave act, you embarrassingly stammered and cited his name wrongly with a shameful 'J', "I mean, Geralt. Geralt with a G!" you back paddled in an instant, scratching your temples as you avoided his eyes and tried to fan your face.

The witcher looked askance, he could hear your heart beat running miles after miles. Geralt pondered why and what was making it pump fast when you weren't even having your panic attacks.

He crossed his hefty arms, looking at you skeptically but with a stupefying smile on his face, "Are you going to stop being a bairn now?"

You initially stopped fanning your face, narrowing your eyes back at him; completely confused, "What's a bairn?" he sighed and glanced at the sky, shaking his head with a beam that fell as quick as you've seen it when Geralt heard Cuthbert walking to where you were and glanced at the acquaintance.

The dead chicken was tied close to the witcher's bag located on the hip of his horse. You were busy staring at the four pieces of aftershafted chickens dangling on Roach's side with that sympathetic glaze of your eyes but actually talking at the back of your mind that its death would be worth it because you cook well and he'll taste good.

Cuthbert scrutinized your nodding form. A strange expression written on his face that tells that he was seeing the oddity that you were nodding at the chickens like you were talking to them.

The animal butcher was running his blabber mouth about how his chickens were also missing every other day. Sometimes his pigs or goats that made Geralt narrow his eyes from his share of message; his nose slightly scrunching from the admission of Cuthbert with his missing animals.

He didn't need to know that some were kind of caught by Geralt's hands. Maybe at least ten chickens, three pigs and two goats. Even so, slaughtered by the witcher himself.

The sneaky witcher couldn't catch a chicken as of the moment because he always does it at night. Catching a chicken from other people's fence in the morning can be risky and definitely tricky.

"About...the sorceress," Geralt trailed off, grabbing Cuthbert's attention away from you before he could even think you didn't belong to their world and guessed about his stealing escapades. He spun his head to look at Geralt, thoroughly distracted from how he called him out, "---you still hangin' onto that sorceress you had, witcher?"

"No...It's....kind of complicated," the latter speculated with a shake of his head.

Cuthbert nodded in understanding, scratching the nape of his neck as he seem to ponder, "The tittle-tattles around the village says that the sorceress is in a burgh called 'crow's perch' in the east of Vizima," pause. "It's a long journey out there! Lots'a beasts to encounter before it!" he roughly warned.

The Witcher only hummed in response; deep in thought as he calculated how long will it take to get there after a week when he was done with any favors for the villagers of Kaedwan and for some of his options on how to get you home.

His first choice was the Djinn. Now, he just needed to find one. Again. But, not for the sole purpose of asking peace and a long nap but to help you.

Geralt fished out the black pouch he kept on his sides, reaching out to give it to Cuthbert across the fence. The animal butcher shook his head to decline the money, "No, I don't need yer' coins." he simply admitted with a scoff, "You've helped us a lot; for me to be accepting some kind of repayment from the white wolf himself---,"

"----You deserve a thank you for all your help, Witcher." Cuthbert continued with a grateful tone.

Thus, this was the first time that he'd been acknowledged by his help in slaying monsters and terrifying creatures. The man himself didn't know how pleasing it was to hear those words from a mere human and from a person he'd help back in the years. Even so, seeing those smiles you've given him when you were excited to cook the damn chicken didn't seem so satisfying and delightful to look at; until now..

MORE FLUFF ON CHAPTER 4.1! Heehee! THANK YOU FOR THE LOVE, TATER TOTS! AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO LOVES GERALT CALLING Y/N, MIDGET?

Taglist: @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @vania-marie @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @missjenniferb (I couldn’t tag you AGAIN bud! A different blog was popping out of the recommendation and it wasn’t your blog. Though, I’ll try again on the next update! Don’t worry! Tumblr is being DUMBLR RN. I’M MAD) @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernatural

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calliecat93 · 3 years

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Callie’s Disney Princess Retrospective: Beauty and the Beast

(Snow White) (Cinderella) (Sleeping Beauty) (The Little Mermaid)

The Little Mermaid was a huge success for Disney. It was such a big success that it began the Renaissance Era of Disney Animation and returned Disney to the top animation studio. While many people such as John Musker, Ron Clements, and Glen Keane can be credited for the film's success, the biggest player by far was lyricist Howard Ashman. He put his heart and soul into the film, and not just with song lyrics. He wanted the characters to connect to the audience. He wanted to play a part in the story. He wanted this film to be something special, and he succeeded. But he was also frustrated, could be argumentative when others didn't like his vision, and unknown to everyone, he was dying. After winning two Oscars for The Little Mermaid's music, Howard revealed to composer Alan Menken that he had AIDS, and he didn't have much longer to live.

However, Ashman wasn't going down before completing one more film. Though he had been writing music for Aladdin, he ultimately ended up as the lyricist of another film. A film that had been through many different iterations and was handed off to newbie directors. Little did anyone know just how impactful this film would be for Disney, and for the industry as a whole. Well, except for Ashman himself. The film that we are discussing today is the first animated film to ever, ever be nominated for Best Feature. That film is 1991''s Beauty and the Beast.

Overview

Belle is a beautiful young woman, but is seen as an oddity in her village due to her love of books and her utter disinterest in local heartthrob Gaston. When her father, an inventor named Maurice, leaves for a science fair, he ends up taking refuge in an old, abandoned castle. But the castle is actually enchanted and acts as the home to dozens of talking inanimate objects... and a fearsome beast. When Belle goes looking for her father, she offers to take his place as the Beast’s prisoner. But during her time in the castle, Belle discovers that this Beast may not be as much of a monster as he appears, and this may lead to both discovering true love...

Review

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I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that this is by far one of Disney’s most beloved films. It got praise form both critics and movie-goers when it came out, and it’s only become more beloved in the nearly 20 years since. Belle is praised as a feminist's icon and the film for it’s themes of toxic masculinity, judging a book by it’s cover, and some of the darker aspects of society like those we blindly praise. I... like the film, but I never loved it to the extent as others. Not because it’s bad, that is a ridiculous notion. I just liked other films more and Belle just didn’t interest me as others like Cinderella or Mulan or Ariel. But seeing it again as an adult who has seen the darker aspects of society since I was a kid, it REALLY rings more deeply than it did back then.

One aspect that no one can argue about is the animation. The film is beautiful. It has some of Disney’s best animators at the time such as Glen Keene, Mark Henn, Andreas Deja, and so much more. There was so much life put into the film and it is a true visual spectacle.I meant hey managed to take inaminate objects, and bring them to life. Sure they have faces to help humanize them, but to make us believe that these are talking, moving objects that were once human is still a VERY difficult task. But they have so much personality like the suave, passionate candlesick Lumiere or the stuffy, orderly Cogsworth. The backgrounds andf settings are also great fromt he Sleepy Hollow-esque village to the gothic castle of The Beast, to the creedy woods that look even more terrifying when it snows. There’s so much color and lighting that is used so well, especially with the castle eminating so much mystery and intrigue compared tot he plain village that Belle is from.

But the setting we all remember most of all is the ballroom. While Disney has been using CGI some before, such as Big Ben in The Great Mouse Detective (yes,t hat WHOLE setting was computer graphics), this is probably the biggest use to date. The ballroom is a gorgeous golden color and looks so big and vast. It takes you’re breath away. There’s a reason why this is the most well-remembered part of the film. The animaiton for this film was very straining, especially due to conditios to accomodate Ashman that we’ll get to later. It was stressful, but they absoluteley put their all into it. When you watcht he ballroom sequence, added to the dance and Angela Lansbury’s lovely vocals, you forget that you’re even watching a movie. It feels like... well, love. It’s by far one of Disney’s best looking features.

As I said in the intro, the film ultimately fell into the laps of two relatively rookie animators; Kirk Wise and Gary Trousdale. This was after several various attempts to adapt the film, with none successful. Wise and Trousdale’s biggest claim to fame at the time was doing animaiton for EPCOT’s now defunct Cranium Command attraction (look up Who Stole Buzzy, boy is THAT a story) and while they had worked on other features, they had never been in the director seats. To make it more difficult, due to Ashman’s health continuing to gradually decline, Katzenburg decided to move produciton over to New York to spare him from having to travel. Which is a VERY noble effort and it’s sweet that they were willing to do so to keep working with Ashman, but as you can imagine this was quite a strain on the production team and as before, they would sometimes clash with Ashman and his vision. Still, they along with Menken returning as composer and writer Linda Woolverton, they reworked the then-script into something that they were happy with.

The setting is very reminiscent of another Disney work, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. One of two segments from the Package Film Era feature The Adventure of Ichabod and Mr. Toad. We all know the story of Ichabod and his infamous ride where he encountered the Headless Horseman. Here we have a similar quaint village where people seem rather simple-minded. Like in Sleepy Hollow where everyone took notice tot he rather strange looking Ichabod Crane, we see a similar notice of Belle who is an anomaly to them. Though unlike Ichabod, who had pretty much everyone under his thumb and is kind of a gold diging jerk, Belle is ostracized and is a FAR better person. Gaston bears a striking resemblance to Brom Bones in both looks and social status (tough Brom isn’t as bad in comparison or even compared to Ichabod, though still a Jerk Jock) and the Bimbettes bear a bit of similarity to Katrina. I wouldn’t be surprised if the crew used Sleepy Hollow as inspiration for setting and character design. Only thing missing is the Headless Horseman, which that would have been interesting XD

The film deals with several topics. There’s the standard ‘don’t judge a book by it’s cover’ and ‘true love conquers all’ messages. Both of which are handled very well. But there are also some that IDT Disney had ever really tackled to this point. There’s encouraging women to make their own choices, which Disney HAS tackled but this one does it differently with Belle rejecting the standard good-looking man and falling for the monstrous looking one. In fact there is really a strong theme tearing down toxic masculinity and male entitlement. It says that no, men are not obligated to a woman and that women have the freedom to reject them no matter the societal pressure. Especially if they act as despicable as Gaston. With how much more aware we’ve become of how horrible some men in power can be and how they use that power on vulnerable women, this remains a relevant message to todays audience. It let’s women be empowered, confident, and enjoy things like reading as well as have the hope of finding those who will be accepting. These are all important things, and the film does an excellent job in showing it and what actual love should be like. The Beast especially starts as a jerk, but once he decides to become better and wants to be better for no ulterior reasons, he proves worthy of Belle’s love. That’s how love should be and how a person should change themselves. Again, very well done.

Despite his health and being downcast about not completing Aladdin, Ashman still put his all into the film. As I said, they outright shifted production to another state at a time when social media and things like Skype and Zoom were a distant dream. Still, Ashman along with Menken put their all into the soundtrack, and it paid off big time. This film, along with The Little Mermaid, really set up the precedent for Broadway-style animaed films and considering that they continue to be successful, I’d say that that says a lot. There are a lot of memorable songs int his fimlm, and there’s even some that didn’t make it in. One in particular, Human Again, actualy got animated and added back for the film’s IMAX release and various home media releases (sadly it’s not in the Disney+ version). The score is also very well done, especially at the end. Just listen to the music when the Beast finally turns human again. It added to the outright magical animation will leave you in awe as much as Belle was.

But what about the vocal tracks? Good question. Let’s go over them:

Belle/Belle Reprise: Our first song which as the name suggests, is about our leading lady. It does a lovely job establishing her character as a book-loving, intelligent young woman feeling that there was be more than this life ans village that she remains stuck in. It also establishes the village’s rather simple-mindedness and socital expectatons, finding Belle a beautiful but very strange girl because of her loving reading more than getting married. It also establishes Gaston’s smugness, entitlement, and holding the entire village’s admiration, The music is optimistic, but there’s a lot here that’s gonna take a dark turn a the film goes on. The reprise is short and more somber, but let’s Belle express her unwillignness to marry a man like Gaston, wanting to find love on her own terms. Little does she know what’s awating her right after.

Gaston: No one can have a song named after Gaston like Gaston! Yeah, this inspired plenty of meme’s, didn’t it? Even Disney itself has gotten in on the fun haha! But seriously, this is a fun villain song. I gotta give Gaston this, he’s a smug, horrible person but he shows that he can back up many of his boasts. I don’t doubt that he can eat dozens of eggs a day or is as strong as an ox. The song also further shows the town’s utter blind devotion to this brute, not being concerned about his entitlement to a girl who clearly isnt interest and more because of how handsome and grand he is. Isn’t society fun kids?! But then at the end, after Maurice is kicked out, it takes a darker turn as Gaston makes his plans to essentially blackmail Belle with her father’s safety... and right back to blind praise! I feel zero sympathy for any of the villagers in this film. But yeah, a song with a lot of dark implications, but still a very enjoyable villain song.

Be Our Guest: This is a true show-stopper, and I’m not just saying that. Lumiere wanted to create a show, and BOY did he succeed. The song is the most like a Broadway number in it’s composition and grand feeling. The fact that we have a huge number full fo singing, dancing, stuntwork, etc is being done by a bunch of dishes and pretty freakin’ impressive. Yet the animators gave it all so much life and Jerry Orback sings with so much passion and energy and it is just SO much fun to watch! Especially with poor Cogsworth at first trying to get everyone to calm down, but by the end he gets real into it... well until Lumiere knocks him to the side. The only negative is that for being a song about serving Belle dinner, aside form a bit of The Grey Stuff she didn’t even eat dinner. For shame! So 1 out fo 10 of food servive, but the show was worthy of two thumbs up!

Something More: This was the song that replaced Human Again. It’s a sweet song about Belle and Beast beginning to realize their feelings the more that they spend aroudn each other. Belle sees that Beast may not be very well-mannered or much of a looker, but he does have a good heart and the more they interact, the more it begins to show. Belle’s kindness, intellience, and willingness to look beyond the surface has Beast falling in love with her, yet his fear of being a monster is still holding him back. Still as we see the two do things like have dinner, play in the snow, or even Beast letting Belle read to him, the more we see that spark of love slowly grow, even if they haven’t fully grasped it. It helps advance the romance, and it’s just really sweet.

Beauty and the Beast: The song that won Menken and Ashman another Oscar. It’s not hard to see why either. The song is beautiful. It’s performed by Angela Lansbury, and her gentle vocals accompanies by the gentle orchestra is just lovely. The woman outright did the song in one take. One take. That is insane, yet it happened. And I can see why because the song is just beautiful. It adds to much to the already majestic ballroom scene, being about two unlikely individuals finding love and ultimately making the other a better person. It’s just a work of beauty. There’s also the pop version by Celine Dion and Peabo Bryson, which I also really love. It’s more commerical, but still very pretty especially with Celine’s gorgeous singing voice. Both versions are beautiful, and the first thing I think of when I think of this film... and no, not just beause of the name.

The Mob Song: This is exactly as you would expect with a song with that title. It’s dark, angry, and scary. Gaston rallies the troops to kill The Beast, convincing them that he is a danger to them all. They grab their torches, weapons, and there’s just this tense atmosphere throughout. This is the culminaiton of al the socital expectations and blind devotion to a person who doesn’t at all deserve it. It’s also a very accurate protrayal of the mob mentality, where you become a part of this hivemind following the rest of the crowd no matter how wrong it may be and despite your own senebilities. The only ones who don’t fall into it, Belle and Maurice, get tossed into a basement for their trouble. What makes this song sad though? In Disney+’s documentary Howard, produced by Don Hahn who also produced this film, it was explained how in the eyes of several of his colleagues, it seemed like Ashman was venting about the AIDS epidemic. That was a VERY dark time where the gay community was especially under fire, persecuted, hated, and so many other horrible things because the world chose to blame them for it. Ashman was a gay man. He had an ex partner die of AIDS, and had another partner at the time who talked about him in the documentary. Imagine being scapegoated just because of your sexuality, even though you never caused any harm, and society hated on you and others fell into he mob mentality, and they went as far as to either demand you to die or do the job themselves. All because you were different. Really adds a new perspecive to the song, doesn’t it? This can be applied to so many groups too, which makes the song even scarier, but also emphasize even more how dangerous the mob mentality is. Very effective song.

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Sadly, Howard wouldn’t live to see all of his numbers to completion. With his health declining rapidly, Menken and various others went back and forth between Burbank and New York in order to work with him. Ashman worked until he psycially couldn’t anymore. He was even giving notes to performers like Paige O’Hara despite barely being able to talk. He managed to complete his work, at least to my knowledge, before his passing on March 14th, 1991, just a few months before the film’s release. After a screentest, which proved very successful, Don Hahn and some other colleagues went to see Ashman in the hospital to say their goodbyes. Hahn told him of the reception, and jokingly asked who would ahve expected that the film would have turned out so great? Ashman’s response? “I did.” The work he managed to do for Aladdin would be included in the film, which we’ll discuss when we get to that one. The soundtrack won the Oscar which was awarded to Ashman (as well as Menken) posthumously and a dedication to him was including at the end of the film. It’s always sad to see such a talented individual leave us far too soon, but his work truly brought new life to Disney and is beloved even all these years later. That is a legacy that will never fade.

Now we get to characters, and we have quite a good number of them. We have of course the village that Belle is from. On the surface, they seem like pretty plain people, satisfied with their way of life. But this also causes them to at least not think highly of those who break from that way of life. The men work, the women care for the children. If men don’t work, they’re jerk slobs. They all especially fall into blind admiration for the strong, handsome Gaston who is hailed as a local hero. So much so that no one gives ANY of his terrible actions an ounce of consideraiton. Selling Maurcie tot he looney bin? Well he’s alreafy viewed as crazy, so ah well. Belle trying to tell them that The Beast isn’t a monster? While their first imprression of him is defeniteley a bad one, the fact that they listen to Gaston and not the woman who actually interacted with The Beast says a lot about how simple minded they all are. I hope they learned their lesson after all was said and done, but even if not Belle doesn’t have to pay them any mind anyways.

The only person who is accepting of Belle is her father, Maurice. He’s viewed as a crackpot, but Maurice is a good-hearted, smart, and perfectly sensible man. He’s a bit of a goof with how his inventions can go haywire, but otherwise is no diferent from any other person. But like his daughter, his interests have him judged instead of what he’s like as a person. It’s especially sad when he tries to get help to save Belle, and he is merely laughed at and thrown out because of his status. Maurice is a loving father, accepting of Belle and of her interests and choices. She isn’t interested in Gaston? Fine with him. People view her as odd? That’s utterly ridiculous. It’s really nice to have a parent who is supportive and involved int heir kids life, especally compared to Triton last time who may be caring, but is utterly against everything that matters to Ariel. In fact it’s the firs ttime we’ve had this since Snow White and Cinderlla’s parents are dead and their stepmothers are horrible, Aurora grew up away from her otherwise caring parents, and Ariel... it’s complicated. Maurice is a good guy and it is good that Belle has someone who accepts her unconditionaly. She loves him so much that she sacrificed her happiness for him twice to protect him, which really shows how strong their bond is.

That brings us to our villain, Gaston. He is a hunter who is muscular, handsome, and has physical skills that he can back up. However he is also entitled, egotistical, sefish, and just a horrible person. He wants to marry Belle only because of her beauty and instead of trying to get to know her or shifitng atteniton to any of the girls who would gladly grovel before him, he pursues her despite her not liking him. It’s especially bad when he goes to her house, sets up a huge engagement party, and gets into her personal space in his attempts to charm her. She not only rejects him, but promptly humiliates him. Yet instead of thinking that he had tried far too hard and jumped the gun, he blames Belle for daring to reject him. He reflects exactly how society can view someone like him. No one thinks about the woman, they only see a good-looking man get rejected despite us not knowing anything about ther perosn or their relaitonship. Especially if that man is essentially a celebrity, which makes people look past anyhing.

But none of these things are indicitive of an evil perosn. An arrogant jerk yes, but not evil. That all changes when, after Maurice tries to get help, Gaston comes up with a new plan. He decides to have Maurice admitted to an asylum for being crazy, and to use this to force Belle to marry him. This is what shifts Gaston from a jerk to a true villain. This is how far his entitlement and selfishness goes. He is willing to take Belle’s own elderly father and use him and his freedom as blackmail to force her to marry him. Even compared to the four villainesses before him who committed horrible acts such as attempted murder, mental/emotional abuse, and even attempting world domination, this is utterly despicable. Then there's him deciding to kill The Beast. Despite what he says, it's not because of the potential risk to the town, it's solely because he sees that Belle loves him and can't stand it. He outright calls her crazy AND locks her and Maurice up out of pure entitlement and selfishness. He doesn't give a damn about Belle or her though and well-being. Only about his own.

Gaston is entertaining, but very much evil. As I said above he bears a lot of similarity to Brom Bones from Disney's The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. A muscular jock-like figure often the most beautifiul girl in town. Only while Brom was a jerk, he was arguably less bad than Ichabod Crane depending how you looked at it. Gaston essentially has Brom's muscles an Ichabod's selfishness. He cares only for himself and his own pride. Admittedly he put up a decent fight against The Beast, but that's only because Beast wasn’t fighting back until he saw Belle. When he did, Gaston whimpered and begged like the pathetic man that he is. Then he stabbed him despite being spared out of pure spite. An act that cost him his life. Fun fact, originally he survived the fall and was truly killed via the wolves. They ended up saving that for Scar's death in The Lion King. But yeah, Gaston died in the undignifiedmanner that he deserved. A despicable but memorable villain who was perfect for this film.

Then we have the castle characters. You’d think that it would be difficult to give life to a bunch of furniture and appliances... and it probably was. But this movie makes it look easy. They do give most of them humanoid features, like eyes and a mouth, but not all of them and even then it would be so easy to make it look creepy. But the castle staff is just os much fun and beaming with personality. We’re gonna discuss the main four: Lumiere, Cogsworth, Mrs. Potts, and Chip.

Lumiere is a candlestick, which matches his passionate characterization. He’s a showman. A romantic. A more daring, out-going character compared to his frequent frenemy Cogsworth. Cogsworth is a clock and I think he’s implied to be the Beast’s butler or some other kind of advisor. He’s stuffy, nervous, and the most lawful of the characters. Though he CAN get into the fun of things with a little provoking as demonstrated in Be Our Guest and the big battle during the climax. Hoenstly, Be Our Guest is a great number to demonstrate the two’s contrasitng perosnalities. Belle has been banned from eating and Cogsworth doens’t want to both break the Beast’s orders nor cause a bunch of noise that would anger him. Lumiere however? He’s dead set on getting Belle to fall for the Beast, so she should be treated as their guest, not a prisoner. Plus he and the other staff are tired after ten years of being stuck as they are and all alone, so cue the extravagant show number. Lumiere is having the time of his life while Cogsworth tries to convince everyone to stop... but by the end gets caught up in it and joins in ont he fun. Too bad that Lumiere knocks him off the center stage at the end haha. But yeah, their constant banter is amusing but they are clealry friends, especially in the fight where Cogsworth saves Lumiere. They’re both also performed wonderfully by their VA’s, Jerry Orbach and David Odgen Stiers, the latter of whom would appear in several more Disney films, including one for this series that we’ll get to fairly soon.

Mrs. Potts is a teapot and her son Chip is a tea cup. I guess that Chip ended up that way to match his mother, which her being a teapot matches her mothelry persona. She’s very kind and consoling towards Belle and seems the most understanding about The Beast and why he acts ike he does. Which since I think that she was essentially the house caretaker, makes sense since she’d have likely been the one looking out for him. Plus she herself is a mother, and since Beast has the emotion coping skills of a child, she’d know how to deal with it. Chip is the token child character, though not a bad one. He’s a nice kid with a huge curiosity. It’s really cute how hen allt he adults are seeing the bloomign romance between Belle and Beast, he’s uttelry confused like any kid would be haha! He takes a liking to Belle quickly, though more like he sees her as if she were an older sister than any kind fo crush or the like. He’s also smart, figuring out how to use Maurice’s inveniton to free Belle and Maurice quickly...and him wanitng to do it again got a good laugh out of me haha! Mrs. Potts is a nurturing mother and her with Chip is so sweet,e specially when they’re truly human again. Plus her advice of how things will turn out alright in the end is advice that I look back on sometimes. it’s really comforitng.

So... as I’ve mentioned in these reviews, a big issue is how underdeveloped that the prince has been. The first two were plot devices only. Phillip and Eric were better int hat they were active int he plot and Eric had some more perosnality and motivation than the other three did. But it just didn’t feel like the male elads were... quite at their full potential yet. They generally didn’t recieve any character development and were mainly there for the sake of being a lov einterest to the heroine. That all changed in this film with our hero, The Beast.

Beast is one of the most well-developed male leads in a Disney Princess film. A few like Aladdin, Naveen, and Eugene rival him for overall best (though tbf the former IS the lead of his movie so that may not count) but Beast helped make the princes more equal to their princess without overshadowing her. Beast is the co-protagonist to Belle and the character that recieves the bulk of the character development. The opening tells us all that we need to know: Beast was once Prince Adam, a spoiled brat. When he turned away an elderly begger, it turned out that she was an Enchantress and she cursed him into his monsturous form. Since he looks like a monster, he subsequently acts like a monster... or more accurately, like the child that he never truly grew out of emotionally. He’s angry, lashes out constantly, and roars at the top of his lungs when at his limit. Like how a child screams and throws a tantrum when things don’t go their way because they lack the social and emotional coping skills to handle their feelings properly. Becoming a beast left Beast isolated and ashamed to face reality, and thus he didn’t learnt he proper coping skills. He accepted that he would forever be a monster, and succumb to acting like one.

That is, until the day that Belle arrived. When she offers herself to free her father, it’s the opportunity that Beast never beleived that he would get. If he can win her love before the rose petals all fall, he’ll be human again. He’ll be free. While he begins still acitng agressive and even bordeirng on emotionally abusive, e isn’t heartless. When Belle is crying about not getting to say goodbye to her father, Beast seems to legit feel bad for hurting her. It doens’t change his behavior, but it’s still a small moment that shows some humanization. It’s important to add moments like this and his despair when using the mirror to hear Belle talk about him. She’s justified in disliking him at that point, but it’s his reactions that matter. It shows his insecurity, his fear, his utter despair that he’ll be cursed for the rest of eternity. He’s already succumbed to acting the part of a monster and is already struggling to act more polite. As amusing as the scene of him yelling at Belle through the door is, it demonstrates just how hard this is for him but if he can’t improve his behavior, then he has no chance. He knows it, and views it as hopeless. It helps humanize The Beast, showing that despite his appearance there IS a human soul in there somewhere. Someone who on some level does want to be better, but he doesn’t know how. If not for these moments, Beast would have been utterly unsympathetic, but they pulled it off.

The turning point comes after Beast rescues Belle from the wolves. Remember, he’d already pretty much given up on winning Belle over and being human again and the confrontation on the third floor certainly didn’t help matters. He could have just let Belle to her own devices... but instead he went to save her. I sincerely do not believe it was because she was a prisoner or because he needed her. He had given up. He had succumbed. But he did it anyways, showing that he isn’t a bad person. It’s something that Belle sees and she gets him back to the castle to treat him. She called him out on his temper, but is sincerely grateful and Beast is stunned by this genuine act of kindness. She didn’t fear him. She wasn’t disgusted by him. She didn’t even leave him to die despite having pretty good reason to leave him and go. Belle still chose to save his life as he did her’s, showing Beast probably the first true act of love that he ever experienced in his life. We know nothing of his family and while I’m sure that staff members like Ms. Potts certainly cared for him, clearly they didn’t do much to quell his spoiled behavior. Belle was kind because she’s a kind person, and Beast finds that he wants to be kind to her in return.

From that point, we see Beast in a new light. He calms down significantly. He’s happier. He carries himself less like a wild animal and more like a person. He’s outright excited when he prepares the library to surprise Belle with. He’s still awkward as shown with his table manners and interacting with birds durign Something There, but he is trying. He’s trying for Belle. He activly enjoys her company. He sees how beautiful she is physically, but that’s not why he likes her. She’s kind, intelligent, independant, and she makes him feel in a way that he never has. He still feels that she can’t love him because of what he is, but the change that she has caused is so evident. He’s fallen in love and the ballroom scene only strengthens that with himt he happiest that he’s been all film. But the crowner that truly demonstrates htis? When Belle expresses missing her father, he lets her use the mirror. Not only does he seem legit concerned when they see Maurice freezing to death but when he sees Belle’s clear distress, he decides to let her go. He’s sad when he does so, knowing that she may very well never return. But Belle’s father needs her. he can’t force her to say and be miserable. He loves her so much that he decided to let her go. But it does mean that he gav up his final chance at being human after feeling more human than he had in ten years, and he is left in despair.

His despair is so strong that when Gaston and the mob arrives, he doesn’t even try to fight back. He just waits and is prepared to let whatever happens to him happen. Fortunately Belle coming back restores his will to live and he fights back. When Gaston grovels for his life, what does Beast do? He grants it, simply growling at him to leave. It is that moment hat shows how much of a better person that Beast is compared to Gaston. He was an angry man bordering on abusive, but he changed. He met someone who wasn’t willing to take his behavior, but was also willing to see the good that was in him. He changed for her, and it made him a kinder, more selfless person. The only thing that remains is his self-loathing, even saying that maybe him dying is for the best after Gaston has stabbed him. Fortunately Belle confesses her love, and it not only saves his life, but breaks the curse just in time. Beast is restored to Adam, having earned the right to having his humanity back. It was a lovely way to cap off his development, and allowed him to earn his happily ever after.

Beast was very much Belle’s equal. Even nowadays they’re both promoted and marketed pretty equally. One’s story would have been incomplete without the other. They gave each other what they each wanted and needed. I’ll go into specifics for Belle when I get to her below, but in the Beast’s case he needed someone kind, but also independent. Someone who wouldn’t tolerate his behavior and push him to change himself, but still kind-hearted enough to see that there is something there and be willing to help. Belle treated him in a way that no one else had. She was defiant, but also caring. She pushed him to rediscover his humanity. She got him to want to be kind. She got him to want to be a better person, and he not only treated her better but he was kinder to his staff as well. He finally grew up from the spoiled brat that he was before. He had found a reason to, and his love was so genuine that he let Belle go to be with her father again. It’s a beautiful story of growth and did enough to make Beast’s issues clear and not excusable, but sympathetic enough that we wanted him to be better and feel happy when he does so. He’s the best developed male lead in a Disney Princess film up to this point and helped pave the way for equally well done male leads. Ones not there just to fill out a plot beat and be the princesses’ reward, but to stand at her side as her equal.

Boy did THAT one get long. there’s other minor characters. Le Fou, The Bimbettes, the psyche ward keeper voiced by the late, great Tony Jay, various other castle characters, etc. all of them are entertaining, I just don’t have much to say about them. So then... we have one more to go.

Belle Analysis

https://youtu.be/M4ne1A1aNrI

Belle is one of the most praised and beloved Disney Princesses of all time. She is smart, playful, independent, and kind-hearted. I feel like she gets overly praised at times, mainly because some like to use her to bash her four predecessors since she didn’t have the goal of falling in love. I won’t repeat what I said about the four, you can read the reviews, but it’s a VERY unfair argument not just to them, but to Belle as well. She’s used as a tool to bash other female characters instead of being loved for herself. Then agains he also gets bashed for the Stolkholm Syndrome argument, which we’ll get to that aspect here soon. But for now, let’s just discuss Belle piece by piece and see where the path leads us.

Belle’s intro establishes everything right off the bat. So much so that the intro sing is literally titled Belle. She’s bookish and cheerful, but it’s clear from her interactions witht he villagers and their own gossip that she’s seen as weird. The only people who seem to like her as she is is the bookshop owner and her own father. The women are jealous of her beauty, the men only see her for her beauty, and both sides are confused at her lack of conformity. Belle lives in a town that clearly has very old-fashioned views regarding gender roles. The men work, the women get married and have babies. They all seem content with this... except for Belle. She enjoys books and adventure, musing about wanting more than the provincial life that she has. She strolls through the village with her nose stuck in a book, but has no trouble navigating at all depsite the distraction. Books provide her a source of adventure and thrill that her limited life does not. She breaks those old-fashioned norms and he village is uttelry baffled at to how she can be this way. But what truly makes her a bafflement to everyone? Her utter rejection of Gaston. While just about every other women swoons at his feet, Belle couldn’t be less impressed if she tried. She’s familiar with how he is and if she had’t recieved his advances before their first scene, she’s probably seen it enough times to know that she doesn’t like him. Him dismisisng her passion for books and insulting her father did him no favors.

On the surface, Belle does’t seem bothered by these things. But when home, she does express some hurt about ti to her father, the one perosn who loves her for her unconditionally. She knows that she doesn’t fit in. She knows that she’s not happy with her life. She wants someone to understand her besides her father. She wants more to life where she can be herself. She wants to find love on her own terms and not have to deal with the advances of men like Gaston. None of this stops her form being able to handle herself, as demonstrated when Gaston goes to her house to force a proposal. She handles kicking him out with utter grace and her “I don’t deserve you” line is icing on the cake. But none of that changes how she feels. If anything, it enforces it. The village is all on Gaston’s side and at that point, her father has left for the science fair. He won’t be there forever, hence why she wants to find someone who will love her for her. To control her own destiny. To those who feel forced into their gender roles or being forced into a relationship that they don’t want whether by an agressive person or by peer pressure, Belle’s struggle is very relatable. Her independant spirit is also admirable as while she is dismayed with where she’s at, she still is able to smile and live her life as she wants. She’ defiant. She makes do with what she has and is able to handle what’s thrown at her with pure wit and ingenuity. Gaston nor anyone else can bring her down... at least, not until her wish for adventure ends up unexpectedly granted.

Before we progress forward, let’s pause to discuss Belle’s VA, Paige O’Hara. When Beauty and the Beast was beginning casting, O’Hara was already a rising Broadway actress and Disney happened to be seeking Broadway talent specifically. After several call-backs, she finally earned the part. She’s credited Howard Ashman as a huge help in guiding her to finding her voice as Belle, and she performs the role beautifully. She captures Belle’s independence yet playfulness very well, as well as her defiance and heartbreak in certain scenes. And her singing? Beautiful. Maybe not on par with Jodi Benson, but you can tell why she was a rising Broadway star. Today, O’Hara works mainly as a painter with Belle very much being one of her main muses. Sadly due to how much her voice has aged, she rarely plays Belle herself anymore, the role nowadays being primarialy done by VA Julie Nathanson. While she also does a lovely job at the part, O’Hara will always be the first to bring the character to life. Fortunteley she still shows a lot of love for the role and has attended multiple events and even got to reprise Belle at least one more time during Ralph Breaks the Internet. She had reprised Belle multiple times between various DTV films, TV appearances, and other events. So even if she is limited nowadays, her large body of work will live on forever.

Back to the film, Belle discovers that her father is in danger and ends up at the castle. We all know what happens at this point. Belle offers to take her dad’s place, Beast agrees, and Maurice is kicked out before Belle can so much as say goodbye. She’s distraught at this, and who can blame her? In a matter of hours, her life as she knew it was ripped away from her. Now instead of her old provincial life, she’s a prisoner in an enchanted castle ruled by an angry beast. Even when given the nicer room, she doesn’t feel that much better. She’s never going to get to see her father again or even know if he’s safely back home. She has no reason to believe that a rescue is coming. Some may say that she should try and get out, but isn’t she allowed this? To be upset and at a loss of what to do? It’s not like she just cries the whole time, she calms down enough to refuse to go to dinner despite the others insisting that she does. Even when Beast yells at her to do so, she refuses. She may be a prisoner, but she’s not going to play the victim. She’s going to be as she normally is; however she wants to be.

Soon, Belle’s able to calm down enough that she decides to go explore the castle. She is ultimateley a curious, adventurous spirit. Regardless of the circumstances, she can’t help but want to learn more about this new, strange place and these new figures that she’s encountered. You can tellt hat she’s warming up reatly during Be Our Guest where despite not actually getitng to eat anything, she is just havng far too much fun to care. It gets her spirits back up and now she can’t resist exploring more. Even if it risks The Beast’s wrath, one her curiosity has peaked, she can’t resist it. It’s a great strength, but also probably her biggest flaw. Despite having been told not to and knowing by now how Beast will react, she slips away from Cogsworth and Lumiere to go explore the West Wing. This ends with her seeing the trashed area, finding the Enchanted Rose, and getting yelled at by an enraged Beast. That is the last push needed to make Belle decide to escape.

So now that we’re at this point, we have to talk about one of the big topics that comes up when discussing this film: Stockholm Syndrome. To put it simply, Stockholm Syndrome is when the victim becomes emotionally attached to their aggressor and doesn’t want to leave them and tries to justify their actions. So when the vicitm is rescued, they may react negativly or even aggressively towards the rescuers in favor of the agressor. it’s a psychological response. This is actually a case where I was able to go to a professional to ask about it,: my own mother. My mom is a Licensed Clinical Social Worker and currently works as a therapist. I’m fairly sure that she’s never treated anyone with Stockholm, but it is something that she knows of. I did ask her about if the film did glorify Stockholm Syndrome as some accuse it of. The gist of what she told me is... well, there’s enough in-film that either side can use it to prove their case. After all she DOES develop positive feelings towards Beast while a prisoner, so one can take the context and use it as an example, and same for the side who don’t agree. Ultimately Belle is a ficitonal character. We can’t sit her down and give her a psychoanalysis because she’s not real, and most of us doing these analysis’ aren’t therapists, psyologists, or mental health experts anyways. I’ll leave some sources below if you’d like further reading on the topic, but doing research isn’t the same as being a professional trained to go over these kinds of things. My mom said at most, Beast can be viewed as emotionally abusive, though it is because of his own trauma and he did ultimately improve to be a better person.

I fully agree that yes, if someone wants to make the arguent that the film promotes Stockholm Syndrome, they can. It’s their opinion, this came out in a diferent time than now where we take things like emotional abuse in cinema far more seriously, and in the end it’s a piece of fiction and people are free to view it however they wish. But the same also applies to me and in my opinion, no. Belle does NOT suffer from Stockholm Syndrome nor does the film glorify it. Now I am not an expert by any stretch of the imagination. This is strictly my opinion going off my understanding of it. I may be wrong and if that’s the case, I apologize. But from what I know and understand, the case in the film is not a straight forward situation like the various case studies in the real world. Plus I think we see enough of Belle being defiant and not feeling positivly towards Beast to see that she certainly hasn’t developed any psychological attachment towards him to cope with her situation. We’ll be seeing her feelings towards him change, but I’ll explain why I don’t feel that it counts down below. But again, I’m not an expert. This is just my understanding of it.

So... why the long tangent there? Well we’re now at the wolf attack scene. The turning point in the relationship. Belle’s effort to escape ends with her cornered by a pack of vicious wolves. Fortunateley, The Beast rescues her and drives the wolves away... but he is inured in the process and passes out. As I said in Beast’s character breakdown, he didn’t have to do it at that point since he’d given up, but he did so anyways. It showed that he isn’t a bad person. Something that Belle also saw. The Beast had been aggressive and rude to her throughout, and she had every good reason to continue on her way now that the path was clear. But Belle didn’t. She got Beast onto her horse and took him back to the castle, the closest shelter, to treat his wounds. Is this because she feels compelled to do so after forming a psychological dependency or attachment to him? No. We see as she treats his wounds that she still isn’t going to tolerate his temper and rudeness towards her. She stands up for herself and talks back at him until he calms down. She very much retains her independence. So then... why did she save him? Because Belle is a good-hearted person who just saw this seemingly hateful beast save her life when he didn’t have to. She isn’t the kind of person to leave an injured person to die. She did it out of kindness and gratitude as we see when she genuinely thanks Beast for saving her life. She’s seen a new side to him now, and it’s made her reconsider her earlier stance. Thus Belle remains at the castle.

The characteristics of Stockholm Syndrome include positive feelings towards the captor and belief of goodness in the captor, no real effort in escaping, learned helplessness, and feelings of pity to the captor. You can read the list and learn more here, and the link will also be with the sources. So you’re probably looking at that and going ‘...uuuggghhhh’ at the movie right now. Which fair enough. However let’s also look at where we are now. This is the part of the film where Beast makes an honest effort to improve himself. He’s nicer, trying to be more polite, and treats Belle as a person. She’s really not a prisoner anymore at this point and while mybe theposisbility of being human again is motivating Beast, for the most part I think it’s because he genuinely grows to like Belle. As for Belle, I think that she likes the castle. It’s enchanted and full of intrigue and mystery, just like in her books. It’s the escape form that provincial life in the village that she’s been longing for. It’s a temptation that she just can’t resist. The staff all like her and treat her kindly and no one tries to force her to be something that she isn’t. Beast especially loves Belle’s love of books, even giving her the huge library to repay her earlier kindness. Belle is able to be who she is and be around those who are accepting of her. Even fi for the staff it’s for ulterior motives, IDT that they’re faking liking having her around and Beast certainly isn’t. This isn’t really a straight-forward captive or abuse situaiton that Stockholm Syndrome would apply to in my opinion, especially since Belle never once succumbs to the Beast’s terms. She only respects and acts friendly with him when he does so towards her, and they are both clearly benefiting positivly from it. We know that Beast has no malicious intenitons regarding Belle and it’s Lumiere and co. insisting on the relaitonship happening moreso, and that’s because they want their humanity back so it adds a bit of complexity. It’s just not a straight forward case where we can easily apply Stockholm Syndrome to and get an accurate reading, at least in my opinion. She certainly is FAR from helpless.

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So then let’s discuss Belle’s feelings for The Beast. We know how much Belle’s influence changed The Beast. But what about Belle? She really doens’t change during the movie, nor did she realy need to. She’s already confident about herself, likes herself, and she knows what she wants with her life. Sure her curiosity can get her into trouble, but otherwise she didn’t realy need a character arc like Beast did. What Belle needed was acceptance. To find someone who would like her for who she is and not see her as weird for it. Beast doesn’t at all view her that way. He enjoys being around her because she’s smart and independant and even gets her to read to him. It’s that kind of acceptance that Belle hasn’t recieved from anyone outside her father. The more that she sees Beast try to be better, the more that she sees how sweet and endeairng that he really is and she’s more than happy to help him. I think that seeing this kinder side bloom and that acceptance and even enjoyment of her is what makes Belle fall in love with him. It’s what helps make the ballroom scene so magical. Two people considered outsiders coming together and dancing the night way happily together. It’s beautiful, magical, and the perfect culminaiton in everything prior. They brought out the best in each other. Made each other happier in a way that no one else had ever done. They’re better now because of the other, and it’s just lovely to see.

But of course, we know what comes next. While happy with Beast and being at the castle, Belle still misses her father. When she sees him in the snow and horirbly sick, she’s distressed. Seing this, Beast allows he to go. Honestly I think that Belle could have left whenever she wanted at that point and Beast wouldn’thave fought it, but she was staying willingly at that point because she was happy. But her father needed her now. If she truly had Stockholm Syndorme, I don’t think that she would have done so. But she doesn’t really give it any kind of thought here. While sad to leave The Beast, she has alreayd mad eup her mind when told that she could go. She leaves to save her father, The Beast giving her the mirror and unbeknownst to her Chip tagging along. Belle fortunateley gets Maurice home safely... and just in time for Gaston to initiate his plan to have Maurice locked away. Belle is of course shocked and outraged and in a panic, uses the mirror to confirm The Beast’s existence. Despite her insistence that he isn’t a bad person, it’s too late. Gaston realizes that she’s in love with the ‘monster’ and we get the iconic line: “He’s no monster Gaston, you are.” Beast treated her like a person and improved himself from his more toxic behavior. Gaston treated her like the prey that he seeks during his hunts, refusing to let up until he’s won. Beast had even kept his word about letting Maurcie go and returned him to the village safely, and of course let Belle go to help him and even seemed to feel guilty for what he had done previously. Gaston though? He shows no guilt over trying to use Maurice to blackmail Belle. He continues his horrible behavior not only by forming the mob, but locking Belle and Maurice in their own cellar for simply speaking against it. Belle didn’t call Gaston a monster because she’s been conditioned or due to a coping reflex. It’s because Gaston is a genuinely despicable person while Beast grew to become a good person. She saw this and stood her ground as she always has, but this time at the point where she won’t tolerate it anymore. Which if it was your parent being shipped off to the insane asylum by some jerk just because they want to marry you, woudln’t you call them a monster in comparison?

So we reach the climax. Belle and Maurice arrive after Chip frees them with Belle rushing to get to Beast. She makes it and seeing her reignites Beast’s will to live... but he’s stabbed by Gaston. Belle saves Beast from falling over the roof, but there’s nothing that she can do to stop him from dying. She’s devestated, blaming herself for it. Beast’s final words to her are that at least he got to see Belle one last time, and if she hadn’t figured it out before, I think that this was when Belle realized that Beast loved her... and that she loved him. We knew that Beast certianly loved her but we needed it confirmed from Belle as the curse was still intact. As Beast lay motionless, Belle cries and at last confesses that yes, she does love him... just as the last rose petal falls. With that confession, the curse breaks and Beast is ressurected/becomes human again. Belle is shocked as she sees not The Beast standing before her, but Prince Adam. You can tell how confused she is. is this reallyt he same person that she loved? Adam confirms it and Belle looks into his eyes... and that’s all it takes for her to finally smile. yes, it is the same man that she had fallen in love with. They kiss,a nd the curse is truly broken. Everyone becomes human again,t he castle is restored to it’s original state, and Belle and Adam dance happily, free to live happily ever after.

Belle is a role model character. She’s there for girls to look up to, and I think that the amount of fans that she has proves that she succeeded. She encourages girls to be themselves. To be independant and not bend to social norms or pressure. To find love for themselves and not succumb tot he pressure of unwanted admirers or the pressure to marry them. Something that happens far too much in reality. She doesn’t change, but there was no reason for her to. As I said, Belle’s not one of my favorites. Not because I dislike her by any means. if anythign I like her much more now as an adult now that I have a stronger understanding of the film. I just have princesses that I like more, and that’s really it. I also don’t like how some insist that she’s the best Dsney Princess compared to her predecessors because as I hope I made clear in those reviews, the previous four pricnesses are NOT badly done. If anything, I think it’s more anti-femenist to use a woman to bash other women without just cause. Saying that belle is better because she didn’t fall in love witht he guy at first sight or didn’t sell her soul for a guy without caring to analyze those characters isn’t empowering, it’s saying that if you don’t act a certain way as a woman, you’re anti-feminist. Which is a terrible stance. No woman is the same and women shouldn’t be used against women in this kind of way. Regardless, that’s an issue with certain ‘critics’, not Belle herself. She’s a great character and someone that I can admire. Maybe not as much as others, but I can certainly see why she’s left such an impact on so many and not even just little girls. To many people of all kinds. Who could be upset about that?

Final Thoughts

Beauty and the Beast is a lovely film. Is it my favorite? No. I didn’t watch it all that much as a kid. As an adult I have a greater appreciation for it. It’s beautfully animated, it’s themes are well-protrayed and still relevant, the characters are memorable and fun, and it’s music is phenomenal. I can absoluteley see why this as the first animated film to ever be niminated for Best Picture. It’s a tragedy that it lost, but it still proved that animation very much had staying power as Walt proved all those years ago. And of course the film is the final testament of Howard Ashman. He may not have been part of the Disney Renaissance for long, but his contributions single-handedly changed the company and their films for the better. Even today this style of musical films is very much going strong even over 30 years since it began with The Little Mermaid. We lost Ashman far too soon, and who knows what amaizng things he could have one if he were still alive. We can never know the what ifs, but we can always appreciate what came during his lifetime. He, Kirk Wise, Gary Trousdale, Alan Menken, Don Hahn, various animators, and so many more did so much to bring this film to life, and it will forever stand as a true Disney Masterpiece.

The film was a giant success, and Disney wasn’t slowing down one bit. The very next year, another animated feature would come out. A film about a dashing street rat who found a magic lamp and unleashed a magical genie who would make all his dreams come true. But wait you may ask, isn’t this a Disney Princess retrospective? Yep. So why am I talking about a dashing hero? Well there is a princess in it, but she occupies a bit of a unique place in the line-up. She is the first and so far only Princess to not be the main charater in her film. But she still left a huge impact and i included in the main lineup so we are NOT leaving her out. So next time, come along as we enter a whole new world to discuss 1992’s Aladdin, and in particular Princess Jasmine.

Image Source: Animation Screencaps

Further Reading on Stockholm Syndrome: Healthline, Medical News Today, GoodTherapy, WebMD,

#callie reviews #disney princess reviews #beauty and the beast

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 4 years

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Sorry if this is a weird question. It’s been awhile, but I think it was your blog that once posted about a list of adult books for YA readers? Did you ever finish that? I’ve pretty much read exclusively YA for years, but as an adult, I’d like to start exploring some books that aren’t about teenagers. Thanks! (And if it wasn’t you, then just ignore this.)

not a weird question, pretty normal question. I don’t know if such a book list could ever be finished, exactly, because more books just keep on coming and there are definitely some I will never know about that are no doubt fantastic, but I have posted two rec lists, which I’ll copy paste here for your viewing pleasure:

The Beautiful Ones (Silvia Moreno-Garcia) - absolutely BUCKWILD romance with a dash of telekinesis; nonstop high society drama and misunderstanding from start to finish, happy ending guaranteed. STRONGLY recommend if you, like me, are a basic bitch who enjoys a bit of Pride and Prejudice.

Binti (Nnedi Okorafor) - a math prodigy runs away from Earth to become the first of her people to attend a prestigious university in space, but shit gets real when a crew of hostile jellyfish aliens attack her ship.

Chilling Effect (Valerie Valdes) - a spaceship captain and her crew take on a series of convoluted missions in order to rescue the captain’s sister, who’s been frozen and held for ransom.

The City of Brass (S.A. Chakraborty) - an 18th century conwoman and a mysterious djinn team up to go looking for a legendary hidden city.

The City We Became (N.K. Jemisin) - a scrappy bunch of Chosen Ones have to band together to defend New York City (which is very much alive) from a huge ass monster.

The Empress of Forever (Max Gladstone) - a lady supervillain gets blasted into space and meets an even bigger, planet-destroying evil space empress. literally WHAT is not to like?

The Empress of Salt and Fortune (Nghi Vo) - high fantasy royal drama about a woman making her way to power in the wake of a political marriage that left without friends or allies.

Escaping Exodus (Nicky Drayden) - a space-faring clan are creating their latest spaceship from the insides of a giant monster when absolutely everything goes to shit (as things are wont to do in science fiction stories).

Fierce Femmes and Notorious Liars (Kai Cheng Thom) - a trans girl runs away to the big city, where she uses her martial arts skills to team up with other trans woman and form a vigilante gang to defend their own when police look the other way. a fascinating blend of poetry and prose and magical realism.

Finna (Nino Cipri) - two exes working at an IKEA have to team up to save a customer who disappeared through one of those interdimensional portals that all IKEAs have laying around. you know how it is.

Gideon the Ninth (Tamsyn Muir) - come on, you’ve heard about this one. it’s the one with the lesbian space necromancers? yeah, that’s the one. you got it.

In the Vanishers’ Palace (Aliette de Bodard) - a Beauty and the Beast retelling based in science fiction and Vietnamese fantasy, featuring a young woman falling in love with a “beast” who’s actually a motherly dragon after becoming a tutor to the dragon’s two powerful children.

Jade City (Fonda Lee) - urban fantasy gang wars, pitting one magically enhanced family against rivals and a new drug that lets anyone mimic their abilities.

The Library of the Unwritten (A.J. Hackwith) - hell’s librarian gets sent on a quest to find a runaway soul.

The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet (Becky Chambers) - aka one of my favorite books ever, essentially slice of life science fiction following an interspecies crew of deep space truckers making the longest and most complicated delivery of their lives. very warm and fuzzy.

Mort (Terry Pratchett) - one of many MANY Discworld books, but a very good one to start with, following the adventures of a boy named Mort after he’s taken on as Death’s apprentice. you know, like the Grim Reaper? that Death.

River of Teeth (Sarah Gailey) - historical AU in which the United States imported and domesticated hippos in the Mississippi River; follows a crew of hippo-riding crooks and hooligans as they plan one heck of a caper.

Space Opera (Catherynne Valente) - a washed up rock star and his old bandmate get roped into performing in an intergalactic singing competition that will determine the fate of the entire planet Earth. full of aliens, attempted assassination, art, and emotional turmoil.

This Is How You Lose the Time War (Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone) - time-travelling assassins from rival factions fall in love in a poetic and breathless story that spans centuries and reality.

Under the Pendulum Sun (Jeannette Ng) - fairyland is real, and Victorian England is sending missionaries. a woman and her brother attempt to bring the good word to the fair folk, but start to suspect the queen might just be screwing with their heads. PEAK gothic horror with a creepy fairy twist.

Witchmark (C.L. Polk) - a doctor and former soldier with magical powers of healing is trying to live a quiet life and avoid his controlling, aristocratic family’s plans for him, only to get tangled up in a massive political conspiracy when one of his patients mysterious dies. accompanying him in his investigation is a mysterious and gorgeous faerie man. romance ensues.

(this second part is a list I made specifically focused on trans authors)

The Black Tides of Heaven (J.Y. Yang) - twins with Powers rebel against their politically powerful mother, hell yeah

The City in the Middle of the Night (Charlie Jane Anders) - dystopia sci-fi where The Government is controlling a city’s passage of time and light. sounds like somebody should overthrow that…

Confessions of the Fox (Jordy Rosenberg) - I haven’t read every book on these lists, including this one, but it’s described as “a mind-bending romp through a gender-fluid, 18th-century London” and I personally would love to read that.

The Deep (Rivers Solomon) - mermaids are descended from women who jumped overboard from African slave ships, and one carries the memories of all their collective trauma. what will happen when she decides to explore the surface?

Docile (K.M. Sparza) - sci-f m/m romance story about autonomy and criticizing capitalism; what’s better than that?

The Future of Another Timeline (Annalee Newitz) - murder! time travel! queer ladies! idk, what else do you need?

Freshwater (Akwake Emezi) - a twisty little story about mental illness and being possessed by a god; magical realism ensues.

The Merry Spinster (Daniel M. Lavery, published under the name Mallory Ortberg) - a collection of short stories drawing inspiration from classic fairy tales, Biblical mythology, and more recent works. the way Lavery reimagines “The Velveteen Rabbit” is one of the creepiest things I’ve ever read, and also one of my favorite short stories.

Ninefox Gambit (Yoon Ha Lee) - you like big ol’ dramatic space operas? I’ve got one for you right here!

#queenofseelie

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abluescarfonwaston · 4 years

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Shapeshifter Au - 5.5

And now we travel Back in time to the Banquet because i definitely didn’t completely forget abut the banquet shh. Uuuuh tw for consensual use of Axii? Links to all the other parts/AO3.

He’d never felt more alive.

The joy and wonder and life that was flowing through his veins every moment since Pavetta and Dunny were wed. Or. Maybe a bit before that. What a night! What a story it would make! The ballads he would write!

When he opened the door to their room to find it empty of Geralt or his belongings he wasn’t surprised.

He should have realized Geralt would ride out of town at first light. Sure. But he was caught in the revelry of the night! Playing and dancing and drinking until the sun had returned.

It didn’t matter. He gathered his things and went after him.

Geralt hadn’t exactly been in the best of moods when he left the party. If not for Roach he’d be sure Geralt had fled in the night. He wouldn’t make her ride in the dark. Probably.

Either way he wouldn’t catch up on foot. Geralt would be riding hard.

That didn’t matter. He slipped into a back alley and shifted.

There weren’t many winged forms that could carry his things, as few as they were. He had to stretch the great sea bird’s wings larger than was natural to get the power needed. It was always tiring, he’d only manage to hold it until the city edge. But it’d be faster than any of his other options.

He soared past the city limits without a problem.

He didn’t know which direction Geralt had gone so he just followed his instincts. Riding the breeze on and on and on.

The weight didn’t seem nearly as bad as he remembered.

The road stretched below him. He wasn’t tired. He wondered how large he could make this form. He stretched his wings wider and wider.

He felt huge. Like he could be huge. Like he could be a mountain. Except mountains didn’t move and he needed to move.

What - what was the biggest thing he could be? A bear? A bison?

There were stories of dragons. Ancient dragons who slumbered so long they turned to mountains. That they would one day wake and their wings would cover the sky.

He felt like one of those dragons.

But dragons weren’t real. Just like so many of the creatures in his songs. A shame. He’d have loved to be a dragon like the ones in his fairytale stories.

He banked. He’d missed. Missed Geralt.

This time he spotted her. Roach snacking on the side of the road.

He dipped low to the ground and shifted into a run as his clothed feet hit the ground. Managed to stop without tripping.

He bowed to Roach’s unimpressed visage. “Thank you thank you. You may hold your applause.”

He caught sight of Geralt. Back firm against a tree. Knees bent in front of him. Clenched knuckles pressed against his head.

He wanted to run and sing and fly and dance until the stars themselves joined him in his revelry.

But that wasn’t what Geralt needed right now.

He sat down next to Geralt letting his fingers twist over every note and chord. Over every scale and tried very hard not to bounce with energy.

“Well that went a bit mad at the end there didn’t it?”

Geralt curled ever so slightly inward.

“Oh no I suppose you missed that part didn’t you? One of Eist’s companions did some remarkably skilled animal impressions. I won’t tell you what he was saying of course- the vulgarity alone makes the songs I play at brothels sound like nursery rhymes. Oh but you must hear-“ He began repeating the noises the man had made, less and less accurately and more intently. Shifting his vocal chords as required.

He didn’t usually do that. Altering parts of his form intentionally. It felt odd normally. Like he was trying to fight the shape of himself.

It felt as easy as breathing.

Geralt exhaled sharply, in what he choose to believe was the start of a laugh, and turned his face slightly towards him. “What the fuck was that?”

“A very drunk Skellige attempting to imitate a siren in the throes of rapture I can only presume.”

“More like death.”

“He might have been close to it given the amount of drink he’d imbibed. There was a solid attempt at to empty the cities store of alcohol.”

“And you didn’t partake?” Geralt asked in tired disbelief from where he huddled.

“What? No what would make you think that? I drained half the castle myself once they were too drunk to ask for more songs.”

“You don’t smell drunk. And you’re not acting hungover.”

He paused his fiddling with the lute before the need to wiggle forced him to restart. “Well that’s cause I’m not.” Which didn’t seem right to be fair. He wasn’t sure how he’d managed it. “Suppose I got back to the room to find my very best friend was gone and sobered right on up. Lovely flight over here by the way. Thank you for asking.”

He continued his jabbering about the night – if Geralt wanted him to be quiet he’d ask – until he was certain Geralt was no longer listening to the actual words.

Affection and comfort were difficult for Geralt to receive while he was in human form. Maybe it was that he could understand Jaskier in that shape and feared he might say something that would draw attention to the vulnerability Geralt loathed to show. Maybe it was that humans had showed him so much hatred that he struggled to believe any humans could show him kindness without seeking reward.

He’d done what he could to ease that tension whenever he could but now was not the time for human comforts.

Now was the time for something far easier for Geralt.

He shifted into his orange fur and nudged his way between Geralt’s arms. Head-butting his jaw and kneading his chest. His chest rumbled so easily. He just felt so alive right now. So joyful and content. It shook his chest with the force of it.

“- Bigger than last time.” He caught most of what Geralt said over his own noise.

He supposed Geralt was right. He was bigger than last time. He nearly covered Geralt’s entire chest and he wasn’t stretched out.

Geralt had noticed.

He trilled his pride, the purr kicking up in volume. He liked it when Geralt noticed.

Slowly Geralt unwound enough to scratch at his cheeks, head and neck. Covering his fingers in his smell.

“I’m not going back.” Geralt said not to him. “No child deserves this life. I won’t do it.”

He wouldn’t have a choice. He heard destiny singing at that banquet. Or not destiny but. Something.

He pushed his head into Geralt’s hand insistently.

“No one deserves this life.” Those beautiful golden eyes squeezed closed. He rubbed his head and neck against Geralt’s face, covering his nose in hair.

Geralt meant the life of a Witcher. And no one deserved the cruelty the world showed Geralt. No one deserved to be made to feel lesser, made to feel a monster, for protecting people.

But a life next to Geralt? A life with Geralt as your Father? It would be a life where your Father loved you beyond measure. A life where you could fall asleep in your father’s arms knowing there were no nightmares, no monsters or beasts he could not protect you from. A life where you never got too big for piggyback rides or hugs that lifted you off the ground.

A life in gentle loving hands.

Geralt wasn’t going to be a great father. But he was damn sure he’d be a good one. One day. One day that kitten was going to be the luckiest fluff ever to be scruffed.

He did his best to remind Geralt of that.

They stayed there in the shade of the tree as Roach munched her lunch for what might have been hours.

The sun didn’t say it had been hours but his jittering limbs assured him it had been.

“We need to keep going.” Geralt said eventually extracting himself from under him. Which appeared to be something of a struggle given his size and generously flexible form.

Another day he might have tried to convince him to stay for a nap but he leapt from Geralt thrilled by the promise of movement. Of a run. His form shifted into the husky. White fur and brilliant blue eyes.

White fur. All the better to mess with Geralt’s preferred clothing choice.

Geralt smiled slightly as he raced up and down the path while Geralt readied Roach.

He shifted back as they reached a town they could settle in for the evening and he played until the last table had been cleaned.

Geralt was sound asleep by the time he snuck into the room. Laying there content under the covers. Not even waking for his arrival.

He set his things down, locking the door, and shifted. The bed was too small for them normally and he didn’t want to disturb. Geralt needed the sleep.

He settled on the pillow, tucked his head under his wing and.

He wasn’t tired. He wanted to sing and dance and fly more.

He preened his feathers soothingly to settle himself.

He walked circles around the bed kneading the course blankets.

He gave up, curling on the floor ink in hand and began to work. No candlelight needed. He twisted his eyes and could see just fine.

“We’re not stopping for a nap just because you got stuck composing all night Jaskier.” Geralt growled at him.

He blinked up at him, daylight pouring in through the window.

“That’s fine. Not tired anyway.” He assured before venturing down for breakfast.

They pulled into camp and his muscles skill buzzed with life. Geralt assembled the fire, distractedly throwing one of the branches for him to race after.

His fingers curled into Igni and the fire blazed into a bonfire as every stick and twig caught light at once.

They both jumped back, fur and hair singed.

He fell backwards onto his now human rear crying out his shock. “Geralt that’s more than a little overkill for a camp fire!”

“Hm.” Geralt agrees, looking just as shocked as him. “Gonna need more wood.”

“Fine.” He grumbles out of habit more than actual annoyance. He’s eager for the excuse to move. “I’m on it.”

They lay down in Geralt’s bedroll and he closes his eyes.

He has shifted and run and played so much in the last two days and still his skin buzzes with life.

It is no longer pleasant.

Geralt mellows into slumber and he shifts out of the sleeping bag.

He’s not tired.

He shifts circles around the campsite. Bear. Fox. Wolf. Lark. Cat. Humming bird. Moose. Mouse. Human.

“You’re up early.” Geralt groans from the bedroll. Stretching the sleep from his muscular limbs.

He blinks. If he packs their things, readies breakfast, tacks Roach they can leave all the sooner. Move from the circle of crushed grass he’s made in the night.

“Eager to be on our way!” With the cheeriness of morning Geralt more often inflicts on him than the other way round.

The next night is the same.

And the next.

Pages of his notebook slowly filled. Circles paced into the boundaries of campsites and inn’s. They break for Roach’s sake alone and he doesn’t rest on her haunches as they plod down the road. He drunk his share of alcohol and by the time they reached the room he was as sober as the day he was born.

The life buzzing under his skin stays. It’s annoying.

He wasn’t tired.

That didn’t mean he didn’t miss sleeping.

“Five cintrian ale on the wall five cintrian ale – take one down pass it around – four cintrian ale on the wall!”

“Will you stop that!” Geralt barked at him.

“I would love to!” He yelled back.

“What is fucking wrong with you! You’ve been fifty times more annoying than usual!”

“I don’t know!” The birds startled from the trees around them. “I don’t fucking know okay!”

He combs his fingers through his hair pacing up and down the campsite. All of his forms at the edge of his fingertips and none of them are satisfying. If he starts shifting he’ll just end up repeating last night where he cycled through ever single form over and over again until Geralt finally fucking woke.

He feels Geralt’s eyes tracking him. Back and forth. Back and forth. He attempted to recite the name of every noble family in alphabetical order. Fingers drumming against his side.

“How much sleep did you get last night?”

Duke Adamczyk had four children. “I didn’t.” Baz, Dobry, Kasia and Lidia.

“You didn’t sleep last night?”

“I haven’t slept since the banquet.” Viscount Antol married Lady Bara.

“The banquet?” Geralt stood and crossed the camp to him. “That was last week.”

“I am well aware!” Geralt grabbed his arm halting him; sniffing and examining him like he could spot the cause with his eyes or nose.

“Who’d you sleep with.”

“No one!”

Geralt glared at him.

“By the time I was done playing everyone was either drunk out of their minds or had heard the lovely little rumor you started about me!” He used his free hand to smack Geralt’s chest.

“Describe the symptoms.”

“Symptoms – gods Geralt I don’t feel ill – I feel like I’m living on the constant high for a great performance and I never tire so it never ends and then everyone else goes the fuck to sleep and I’m stuck wide awake, full of energy, all by myself with just my own head for company until you decide to wake up in the morning and let me tell you – you think I’m annoying? I can’t tune myself out Geralt! I’m stuck in here every hour of every fucking day and now I don’t even get to shut up and sleep for a few hours a night!” He beat his head against Geralt’s chest. Geralt’s hand haltingly making its way into his hair. Petting him unsurely.

“When did it start?” Geralt said when he refilled his lungs.

“While I was playing? Or.” He tried to sort the night out. “I felt like it after Pavetta’s whole storm – adrenaline I’d assume – but.”

Geralt hm’d him on, his body slowly relaxing into his. One hand still covering his while the other ran through his hair slowly, tucking him into his shoulder.

“But it didn’t go away. I still feel like I’m in that storm.”

There was a chorus singing of her power, how they were all to stay away.

There had been no issues following that request. But from the moment her force had tossed him he’d felt more alive than he’d ever felt before.

Alive and wildly out of control. A giant trapped in a mouse. A storm in a bottle. A song bursting from his chest, his fingers, his tongue.

Geralt sighed. “We can start looking for a mage tomorrow.” Every muscle pulled taunt. Mages were dangerous. He didn’t want to meet any – much less search one out.

No need to risk a mage for a little case of insomnia! He turned his face to Geralt to make that very clear.

The concern on Geralt’s face shifted the words to dust in his throat.

His feet were tapping the ground. Fingers drumming on Geralt’s chest even now.

“I just want to sleep.” He sobbed into Geralt’s shoulder.

He didn’t want to risk catching a mages attention. Being caged or experiment on or- or –or

Geralt shushed him the same way he shushed Roach. “I know. I could-“ He stopped and squeezed the back of his neck, a gesture that normally calmed him.

Geralt’s fingers flexed against him.

“Could what Geralt? Cause if your suggestion is more immediate or,“ Didn’t include mages “something then I am all ears.”

Geralt extracted himself from Jaskier and sat them down. He bounced his legs.

“You remember Axii right?”

“The sign,” He twisted his fingers in an approximation of it, “You use on Roach when she panics?”

“That was Yrden. But yes.”

“Do it!” He immediately agreed.

“Jaskier.” Geralt cautioned, like he was going to slip into a lecture about informed consent.

“Don’t start!” He chopped the air between them. “I know how the sign works-“

“You did the wrong one. How do you even know what Yrden looks like?”

He continued ignoring Geralt. “And I trust you to just put me to sleep because you’re a normal decent human being who wouldn’t do anything to betray that trust Geralt. So knock me out!”

Geralt glared at him.

He glanced over to the campfire that Geralt had yet again igni’d into a bonfire. The face he’d made after did not imply intent.

“Actually maybe cast it on Roach first to make sure you won’t boil my brain.”

Geralt frowned but the tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he axii’d her to the other side of the camp and released her. She seemed fine. Munching her grass.

“Do you need me to ask her if she’s fine again and risk getting roasted for an hour like last time or can we get on with it?”

Geralt looks tempted by the offer so he growls and sharply motions his displeasure.

Geralt sighs and flicks his wrist and –

The tempest that dances and sings under his skin continues to rage but now there’s a tiny calm of quiet. An eye in a storm. A quiet room to stop and rest in.

It’s tiny, barely a corner to duck into but he curls into it. Into the tiny nest of soothing quiet Geralt has built into his soul. A tiny barrier made of the threads of Geralt that should not hold against the maelstrom outside of it but do.

“Lay down.”

It’s easy. Laying down. He curls himself into Geralt’s lap. He’s not sure if he’s shifted into something that could reasonably do that and it doesn’t matter because there is that tiny alcove of serenity in his chest that feels just like Geralt’s gentle hands.

Distantly he hears Geralt make a surprised noise and he can hear the storm rage on outside of the space Geralt has created for him. Quiet and protected. He relaxes further into the soft touch of Geralt’s hand against his hair or fur or feathers and it doesn’t matter because he’s safe here. No matter his form he’s safe in the quiet pulsing of Geralt chaos. Safe in the slow melody of his heart against his ear.

He thinks distantly that the storm is growing more distant. Or maybe it’s just that the bubble of peace expands and then Geralt says,

“Sleep.”

And he thinks nothing at all.

The blanket is pulled from his eyes with a rough “Get up.”

He rolled over blocking out the offending shine with a plead for “five more minutes.”

“I already broke camp. You’ve had plenty of five more minutes.” He groaned as Geralt’s toe prodded him, trying to chase the tail of sleep back under. Back to a place where his back didn’t ache slightly from the ground or whatever position he fell asleep in last night. “Are. You alright?”

The genuine apprehension and concern in his stilted question forcing him to uncover his eyes enough for Geralt to catch them rolling.

“I feel like I just slept in the dirt in an absolutely unforgiving position for hours.”

“I’d say that’s fairly accurate.” The amused gleam returning to Geralt’s stoic face even if the frown remained. “Better or worse than yesterday?”

“Worse. Better?” He sat up stretching the crick from his back and neck. “I feel like a person again.”

Geralt took the blanket from him and folded it into the saddlebag with a grunt.

He slowly stood, fishing out a makeshift breakfast from their stores. “A normal hungry sleepy person. Damn that’s nice.” Geralt hm’d. “Don’t think we need that mage anymore. You’re magic hands were all the cure I needed!”

Roach snorted and Geralt pat her in fond annoyed agreement at his coy tone.

“You’re sure?” Geralt glanced back at him as they began their trudge.

He nods, a yawn splitting his face halfway through.

Geralt frowned. “We need to keep moving-“ He started to lecture.

“Yes yes I know.”

“But.” Geralt growled at him. “You can nap. If you want.”

He waved back to the saddlebag.

He suspected if he glanced inside he’d find a nest much like the one Geralt had fashioned for him while injured.

“Later perhaps. Right now I must engage in the inspiration I’ve been blessed with by your magic hands!”

Geralt twisted back to him and almost signed yrden threateningly. “I will leave you behind.”

“And you wonder why I know what that sign looks like.”

Geralt smirked and they began their trek.

A song about gentle calloused hands protecting you. He’d write a song like that next.

#jaskier #geralt #geraskier #shapeshifter au #shapeshifter!Jaskier #geralt x jaskier #i'd tag it inappropriate use of axii but if you can't use axii to help someone take a nap what can you use it for #this one goes out to all of you who asked me Rule based questions #i honestly wanted to get this done Before i posted chapter 10/9 For World building #but you know the folks who read it when its done might get to appreciate it.

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