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procrastination-queenie · 4 years ago

Text

Kitten |JJK

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Fem. Reader

Synopsis: The reader is a cat lover and Jungkook is a sucker for her.

Note: None of the photos used is mine.

Warning: none, just heart-wrenching fluff and love for animals.

Word Count: 2,148

You must've been cursed; that must be it. Since you were a child, your heart has been cursed with softness. Yup! You're were so soft and sensitive, your little heart could never understand the concept of being cold. This was no different when it came to animals. You appreciated the existence of such pure souls in this cruel world. But then you're a child how could you understand the term or the concept of being cruel. Well, humans were the embodiment of that term, you were convinced. Convinced that a man who hit a poor donkey so harshly is cruel, a woman who shooed a starved kitten is cruel, a man who kept his dog out in the streets during cold nights is cruel, a family who abandons a disabled or an aged dog is cruel. Your poor little heart can't take it.

You remember the incident of the donkey and how his owner mistreated him; you instantly turned to your dad demanding that he must take an action and I quote "daddy, you must hit the man because he's being mean to the donkey!" Which he replied to saying "yes, dear of course; I'll do that." But as any parent would in this situation he promised you empty words, passing the terrible incident and driving away. "Why aren't you doing anything?" The baby you pouted in anger as your car moved away. "Sweetie, I promise I'll return to shout at the man for committing such a terrible act." And of course, as any child would, you trusted your dad to handle the situation.

You just couldn't grasp the mentality of these cruel people, more importantly, your mind couldn't help and create weird scenarios in your head such as: what if this kitty is lost? She must feel cold! She must feel hungry! She must be afraid! And your poor heart was the victim of these thoughts. Your Heart was soft to the point that you would literally shed tears if a cat or a dog looked at you cutely. You would coo at him/her then start crying because and I quote, again "It must feel terrible that they can't express to us how they're feeling, I mean what if he/she is trying to tell us something, but we can't understand him/her!" you'd say with tears flowing down your baby face. You couldn't even bring yourself to categorise animals under the subject "it" when talking or referring to an animal you would always address it according to its gender because you believed that they feel the same way humans feel, and they deserve to be appreciated and loved.

It didn't help that your parents were very strict about their "No pets" rule. You have always wanted to care for a soul; however, that was a big no from your parents. This led to you taking interest in every living animal that passed you by in the streets or was owned by your friends to fill this void in your heart. For instance, you will never forget that one time when you said: "hello kitty!" enthusiastically to a street cat while walking around with a friend of yours. The poor thing stood in its place stiff like a statue of a pharaonic cat as you addressed it. "Oh look, it turned to me when I said hi kitty because it knows it's a cat... Awww!" You said with the same enthusiasm to your friend who witnessed the whole thing wondering if you're sane enough to be let out in the streets or not. "Oh Lord, give me strength!" She said walking away from you. "Bye kitty!"

Today like any other day, you agreed with your fiancé, Jungkook, that you'd meet after you both finish work to have lunch together. "Same as usual?" Jungkook croaked an eyebrow as his eyes scanned the menu for the millionth time in hopes to find a new item that he might like to try, but this was an old restaurant, it never really added anything new to the menu. You hummed looking out of the window next to you. It was raining lightly and the weather was getting chilly by the minute. After placing your orders, Jungkook started telling you about his day as usual as you waited for the food to arrive. "… and Jimin-ssi broke the record today for falling out of the chair. Seriously how could he keep falling out of a chair this easily, I mean the chair was right there!" He laughed looking at you expecting you laugh as well but it seemed that your mind was elsewhere, or your eyes were elsewhere. "Jagiya, what are you looking at?" He turned his gaze to where you were staring. There, by the bus station was a shivering small black kitten that looked like it wanted to fall asleep but couldn't because of the cold. The poor thing was shivering wildly. It also looked like it was malnourished. He looked back at you to find you frowning with pouty lips and teary eyes. "Kookie!" You whined and looked at him, pleading to let you go help the kitten. He already knew what you were thinking, and he loved you for it. Your big heart that spread warmth and generosity in abundance was always something that left him in awe. "You know they won't allow me in with her!" Your puppy eyes were killing him, already. He chuckled, "you know already that it's a girl?" He was constantly shocked by how you could tell whether the animal you were talking about was a boy or a girl, and you rarely guessed wrong. "You know the deal." You chuckled standing up. You took off your scarf and went outside.

You approached the poor kitten slowly so not to startle it. "Hey, baby! You cold?" Your voice took an entirely different tone as if you were talking to a child trying to coax it. "It's okay, I am not going to hurt you." You said heart aching at the way she tried to step away from you. You wrapped her into the warm scarf, petting her to calm her down and to let her know that you didn't intend on hurting her.

Jungkook made his way to you with an umbrella and both of your food, in his other hand that he told the waiter that he would take it away instead of eating in the restaurant. His heart swelled at the view of you gently brushing your finger behind its ears. He sighed taking a seat next to you. You pulled a piece of chicken from your plate, feeding it to the kitten. "Awww, she must have been so hungry." You said as the poor thing devoured the chicken in seconds. "Where's your mummy?" You spoke to the kitten, it only meowed back at you which made your eyes teary. "What if she's lost!" You pouted looking at Jungkook. "Awww Jagiya I am sure her mum went to get her some food." He said scratching the back of his head, not really knowing what to do. He just hated to see you this sad. Your pout intensified as your head made up scenarios such as what if the kitten's mum got hit by a car? Or what if she's not returning? and so on. "We could wait a bit if you want? You know, to make sure that she's safe." He said shrugging. You smiled at him thankful that he put your heart at ease, seeing that you can't find it in you to leave the poor kitten alone. You kept on feeding the kitten as a couple of hours passed by, and yet her mum didn't show up. "Jagiya, you have nothing left to eat!" Jungkook frowned at the empty plate, noting in the back of his head to order you something else when you go home. "It's okay I am not that hungry." You said gaze and mind lost in the petite kitten that now found warmth and comfort in your lap, engulfed by your cosy scarf.

Jungkook knew that you won't eat if another being was hungry, even if you were starving. He smiled, a light bulb appeared above his head, "you know..." You reluctant tore your gaze from the kitten to look at your fiancé. " We can take it home." He smiled widely. "It's a she!" You scoffed then gasped after you realised what he was saying. "Are you... saying that we can keep it?" Your eyes widened at his suggestion. His bunny-like features lit up as he simply shrugged. You shrieked in happiness, "Kookie you're the best!" You said planting a kiss on his cheek. You apologised for the kitten afterwards for startling her, "awww, sorry baby!" You patted her.

You couldn't wipe the smile off of your face as you went to the vet first thing to give her the required vaccinations, clean her up and trim her claws. "We should buy her a few toys, too!" You said lost in thought as you waited for your kitten to finish. Jungkook looking at you in awe, he couldn't help how cute you looked. "… Because you know how mum and dad feel about pets." You were babbling, turning your head towards Jungkook, missing the way he leaned in to capture your lips with his. He kissed you softly and passionately that you were lost when he pulled away. "W-what was that for?" You whispered, his forehead resting on yours as you opened your eyes slowly. "Nothing, you're just so cute I couldn't help it." He chuckled.

"Mr Jeon, Mrs L/N, your pet is all set, did you settle on a name, yet?" A nurse came out holding the kitten in a blue blanket. You grabbed her gently as Jungkook shook his head, "Nah not yet." He turned to you, "do you have anything in mind babe?" You nodded eagerly like a child, "yeah I have a few! But we need to settle on something." You looked at Jungkook who chuckled at your child-like behaviour.

Apparently, on your way to the vet you went through the internet looking for a unique name for your kitten. "I like blackie" Jungkook said eyeing the rest of the list, "I like it to, but I feel like it's racist." You pouted hating the idea of naming her "blackie" because she's black. Jungkook chuckled, "okay, how about Luna?" You hummed, then claimed that it was not unique enough.

"What about Twinkie?"

"Doesn't seem like a girl's name!"

"Babe you're the one who made this list!" He looked up from your phone to see you looking at the kitten instead. "Well, they sounded pretty when I wrote them down, but now that we're serious about keeping her, I feel like I'm picking my child's name. Kook this is a huge responsibility!" You pouted looking at him. He laughed at how you were taking this so seriously, but he understood, you have always wanted a pet, and now that you were having one it felt surreal.

"How about Selena?"

"Sounds posh for a cat!" Jungkook erupted in laughter. Oh God this was going to be fun, he thought shaking his head.

"Did you get it?" You jumped in anticipation as Jungkook returned home with your kitten's gift. He chuckled, "Yup" you jumped from your seat running over to him to see it. It was a collar with her name engraved on a golden piece. "It looks beautiful!" You squealed. "Yeah, baby it does." He said kissing your forehead. There laid the name "Angel" in a neat font. You know it's not that unique but you truly felt that the name suited her perfectly. She stood there looking up at both you and Jungkook, head tilted to the side wondering what's going on. You put the collar around her neck as she kept staring at you with her baby blue eyes that made your heart melt. "I think am in love!" You whispered in awe with teary eyes, Jungkook laughed loudly, thanking God for gifting him with a precious hearted partner as you.

That night you and Jungkook went to bed with Angel sleeping cosily between the two of you. "Thank you." You whispered, patting Angel's soft fur. "What for?" Jungkook looked up to you with doe eyes filled with puzzlement. "For allowing me to experience this, I mean you could have said no to taking Angel in." You whispered, refusing to think of what could have happened to her if you left her that day on the streets. "Babe, it's nothing. I don't even know why we haven't thought of it earlier, you know I don't mind pets." He said shrugging. "Still, thank you. I wanted this for so long." Jungkook looked at you with a soft gaze. He kissed your forehead, muttering a "good night", contentment filling his heart for the new addition to your little family.

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writing-gifts · 4 years ago

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datura (moth!bruno x butterfly!reader)

—–

A/N: welp one more chapter after this, it’s pretty much gonna do its best to wrap everything up and ig thats all i have to say other than Narancia is pretty fussy this chapter lol

First Chapter || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Reader is gender neutral!

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[Late Winter]

I only left for a few seconds…

You bring the damp cloth to the sticky layer smeared on the table. Naranica had somehow managed to not spill honey on just the table but also himself. And after you finish dealing with the table you would have to clean the clothes you changed him out of.

“Sorry…I tried to clean it.”

You glance at the bee. He had been sitting quietly in one of the dining chairs up until this moment.

“It’s okay. We just have to be careful next time.”

You’re going to ask him what he wants to do after you’re done cleaning everything to brighten his mood but you notice something off about his appearance.

“Where's your hairband?” you ask.

“Huh?”

He reaches up and touches the top of his head. When he can’t feel the cloth of the orange hairband he usually wears, he gets down from the chair and runs out of the room.

When you’re finally done cleaning the table, Narancia’s still hasn't returned so you go look for him. Luckily he’s in the first place you check--his room--but for some reason the usually somewhat clean space was in much greater disarray. All the drawers of his dresser are open and his clothes and toys lay scattered on the bed and floor.

“Narancia what are you doing?”

For some reason he’s halfway under the bed.

“I can't find my hairband!” he exclaims before crawling out.

“Well do you remember where you last saw it?”

“On my head this mornin’.”

You had seen it this morning too. You try to recall today's events but now that you think about it you don’t remember taking it off him when you were cleaning him up earlier.

“Maybe it fell off when we were outside?”

The bee perks up at your suggestion and you have to stop him from running outside. After quickly dressing yourself and him in clothing appropriate for the weather, you go out to search. The two of you spend a good amount of time looking on the snowy ground in front of the house and behind snowbugs but have no luck.

Narancia pushes around the snow in random spots with his hands, but you doubt it would be buried under any.

You rub your gloved hands together. “It’s definitely not out here. We should go back inside.”

Frustration forms on the bee’s face and he stays put so you hold out a hand to him. He stares for a moment but sighs and takes it.

The both of you head back inside and while you help the bee take off his Winter attire he comes up with the idea to look in Bruno’s room.

“Yea maybe it’s in there but--”

He’s already running out of the room before you can finish speaking.

You throw his scarf onto the bed and follow after him but unfortunately, the door to Bruno’s room is already cracked open when you catch up.

“Wait Narancia. Bruno’s sleeping,” you yell-whisper.

You try your best to enter quietly but find that your mate is already awake, confused and watching Narancia look around his room.

“What’s wrong?” Bruno says through a yawn.

“I can’t find my hairband!”

Narancia climbs onto the bed and lays on top of Bruno and the moth places his hand on top of his son's head.

“I’ll get you a new one--”

“No! I don’t wanna different one Papa…”

The bee sighs and gets back up to start looking again

You tell Bruno to stay put while you try to help Narancia in his persistent search throughout the house but eventually the two of you tire yourselves out and end up back in the bedroom empty handed.

Sitting on the bed, you try to smooth down Narancia’s hair but no matter how many times your hands run over his hair, the wild strands refuse to stay in place. It wasn't a bad thing but seeing his hair looking much messier without his hairband had made you wonder if it was even possible to keep it down without one.

“It’s no use amore. Unless you gel it back, his hair does what it wants.��

Narancia scrunches up his face at the word ‘gel’.

“Don’t worry I'm not going to gel your hair.” You tap your chin in thought and get up to rummage through your sewing supplies on Bruno’s dresser. “....How about I make you a new hairband?”

Narancia’s eyes widen. “Can it be the same as the last one?”

You pull out your pair of scissors before turning towards him with a smile. “Of course. You really like that hairband huh?”

You’re sure you’ve seen a few others in his dresser but the orange hairband was the only one you’ve ever seen him wear. You avoid asking why he likes this particular one so much though since you didn't want him to change his mind about taking your copy. You would do your best to find the original but for now this would have to suffice.

You have Narancia stay still--well as still as he can--so you take his head measurements. After that it doesn't take too long to cut out the cloth and start the actual sewing. However, the bumblebee has wandered out of the room by this point.

Bruno watches you half awake as you sew quietly next to him in bed. The both of you sit in silence together for a while and you plan on keeping it that way so he can easily fall back asleep.

Well at first anyways. Your train of thought finds itself at a topic that you can’t help bringing up.

“Have you ever thought about having more kids?” you ask.

The moth looks caught off guard by your question. It did seem as if it came from nowhere, but helping Bruno take care of Narancia and your recent thoughts of all the new arrivals that would be coming in Spring had mostly prompted it.

He considers what you asked before answering.“After adopting Narancia I wasn’t actively looking for a mate or trying to take in anymore young on my own. But now that I’ve met you I’m sure that will change....”

He trails off a bit and you stop sewing wondering what's wrong, but you find that he's staring at you very intently.

“W-Well yea. I’m sure that would be in the distant future, but that sounds nice. I wouldn't mind raising young with you…Actually I think I’d really like that.”

You wait for his reaction but feel tremors coming from the bed.

"You’re….vibrating?" you question, confused.

The slight embarrassment on his face when he tries and fails to stop has you smiling.

“That makes me really happy ____.”

You didn't think you could smile any larger. “You're so cute!"

You put the half-sewn hairband and needle to the side before hugging him which spreads the vibrations to you. You can barely believe the moth you met a year ago was the same one in your arms. The vibrating begins to lessen until it completely stops.

You completely relax against your mate and comb your fingers through the fluff near his chest. You’ll probably never get over how soft it is.

“Narancia practically fell into my arms so this time it will be nice to be properly prepared.”

You hum in agreement.

“That hive--Did you just happen upon it?”

“No, Abbacchio was actually the one who found it. He found Narancia and brought him to me.”

Your fingers stop playing with Bruno’s fur as you try to understand this new information. Why was Abbacchio even wandering around a dead hive?

It’s almost as if Bruno read your mind due to what he says next.

“I’m not sure how he managed to find Narancia but when I asked he was very guarded about it.”

Well if he didn’t know, then there was no way you would ever find out.

“How long have you known Abbacchio anyways?” you ask.

“About 7 years. I actually first met him when he was still part of a nest.”

Apparently, you were learning many new things today since you’ve always assumed Bruno had befriended Abbacchio when he was out of the hive.

It takes a while for you to realise said moth is looking at you with concern since you’ve suddenly gone quiet.

“Oh sorry...I guess I’m still not completely over you making friends with a wasp.”

You thought you were but this new information has you somewhat stupefied all over again. How did these two even manage to meet?

“I suppose all wasps aren’t built the same,” Bruno says.

“Well no bug is. But this is still a very rare--”

The creak of the bedroom door interrupts you and Narancia pokes his head in, his hair somehow even messier than before.

“Is my hairband done yet?”

------

Your shoes press into the snow. Parts of the once solid white blanket had become half melted and grimy in many areas. Your arms wrap around you in an attempt to keep warm. It was still light out but it wouldn't be long until it got dark and therefore much colder, however Naranica was adamant on coming out here.

Narancia completely ignores how dirty the snow is and runs around and plays, balling up and throwing around the cold slush.

“____ make a snow angel with me!”

If there was any time for you to be extremely partial to not laying in the snow it was now.

You look off to the side and grimace. “...Do I have to?”

The bee rolls his eyes and sticks his tongue out before laying on his back to make his angel.

You’re still considering if you should join when the door opens behind you and your mate steps out.

“Hey, want to make a snow angel with Narancia?” you ask the moth.

His brows slightly furrow at the idea. “No thanks. I don't want to get my favorite sweater that you gifted me dirty.”

You almost roll your eyes but he was wearing the sweater, along with white bottoms along too. Sighing, your attention turns back to Narancia but he’s no longer lying where he was last. When you see that he’s now distracted by one of the snowbugs instead of rolling around in the snow, you let out a small sigh of relief.

The front of the house had so many of the snowy insects now that it looked like the location of a small party. All the ones you made over the Winter were still standing but they looked less sturdy and nice--some more than others.

“Mista is melting!” Narancia exclaims.

You walk over and see that Mista’s scarf is slipping off his partially melted body and try to fix it, but the moment your hand brushes against him, his head falls off. Your eyes widen and you look at Narancia whose mouth is hanging open.

He yells and you flinch. Narancia tries to lift his head but the snow breaks apart in his hands.

“Mista no--Papa help!”

Bruno comes near to observe the situation before crossing a pair of his arms. “I’m sorry Narancia but Mista can’t be saved…”

The bee’s eyes look teary and you feel terrible.

“I-I’m sorry Narancia. I didn’t mean to…”

He’s quiet for a moment before telling you it’s okay, however his frown has your heart clenching. He walks off to play a little more by himself, but doesn't seem as energetic as before.

“Don't feel bad mio amor, he gets like this every year….He might be a little more upset than usual though.”

You acknowledge Bruno’s statement half heartedly, but it doesn’t wipe away the guilt.

The three of you spend a little more time out before Narancia asks to go inside. While Bruno’s busy feeding him you head back to the moth’s room so you can get back to packing, but also give the bee some space.

You had started slowly gathering all your stuff a couple days ago. Everything you brought pretty much mixed in with all of Bruno and Narancia’s stuff and you would prefer not to spend last minute looking for any missing items.

A giant part of you was sad to go but the other was excited to see Abilene and update them on everything that happened.

You’re alone for some time but after putting Narancia to bed, Bruno joins your search.

Before you head back to your own home, you plan to check every room in this house for any of your possessions. You decide to head to the main room and immediately your eyes fall on a sweater you had careless left on the couch. You pick it up and something orange falls from under it. You bend over and pick it up, quickly realizing it’s the hairband Narancia lost. How did it even get there?

After a quick scan of the rest of the room, you go back to the bedroom and throw your sweater in one of your satchels. You then place the hairband down where you’re sure it won't get lost again.

Walking into Bruno’s closet next, you open the glowing lantern placed in there. You’re pretty sure you didn't put anything in here but it was better to be thorough. You hum to yourself as you look through the moth’s clothes--all these clothes that he rarely wore. You sigh and shake your head.

While pushing his clothes aside, you find your scarf that had been missing for so long that you convinced yourself you never brought it in the first place. You grab and drape it around your shoulders and quickly finish looking through the closet before exiting.

When you pass Bruno you toss the scarf onto him because why not.

“Found Naracia’s hairband and one of my scarves. I’m on a role today.”

Bruno watches you as you properly wrap the scarf around his neck.

“Hey it doesn't look bad on you! Maybe you should keep it.”

“____?”

You look away from the scarf and at him.

“I almost want to beg you to stay,” he says.

Your smile falls slightly not expecting that at all, but you laugh a bit to cover it up.

“Trust me you don’t need to. If I could be in two places at once that would be great...b-but I’m going to try to visit a lot though!”

Even though you try to stay positive you know it won’t be the same. No waking up next to Bruno. No getting to kiss and cuddle him so often. You wouldn't be able to play with Narancia or fail to feed him in a non messy way either. You wouldn't be able to see them whenever you wanted to and would begin to miss them the moment you were back alone in your home.

Bruno pulls you gently into a hug.

“You're pouting mio amor.”

You wrap your arms around him reprociating the hug and laugh. “Oops I didn't mean to.”

You pull back to look at the moth and reassure him so you both can get back to packing. Unfortunately, this moment seemed to disrupt your focus and you barely get anything done before managing to distract each other again. This happens multiple times until somehow the two of you end up sitting at the edge of the bed being the complete opposite of productive.

Bruno leans into you as you kiss. Your hands unsure where else to go find his chest and warmth fills you when you feel his teeth catch on your bottom lip. Your mate pulls back, but before you can complain, he presses another kiss to your lips then your jaw. His kisses start to trail down your neck--

“PAPA!”

You immediately make space between you and Bruno and almost fall off the bed.

Narancia runs into the room disheveled.

“What’s wrong Narancia?” Bruno asks.

Unlike you, the moth has already collected himself from the unexpected interruption.

Narancia climbs onto the bed but when he sees you, he seems to calm down a little. “Uh nothing…”

He then sits down between you and Bruno. “Can I help pack?”

You and Bruno agree and you’re (finally) back to what you were originally doing. However Narancia seems unusually quiet and you could no longer ignore it. You had hoped sleeping would help improve his mood but apparently it didn't.

“Um are you okay Narancia? You seem sad…”

He shrugs.

“I really am sorry about Mista.”

“It’s not that…” He shifts foot to foot avoiding your eyes before running up to you and clinging onto your leg. “I don't want you to leave! Do you have to?”

Oh.

Bruno turns towards the two of you and you smile sadly.

“I have to, but I’ll be sure to visit and you and Bruno can visit me too.”

“Everyday?”

You chuckle and shake your head. “No, not everyday.”

Narancia hides his face in your leg and you're really worried he’s going to start crying. You weren’t ready to deal with that.

“We can’t go everyday but we’ll go often,” Bruno adds in an attempt to prevent any tears.

Narancia stays quiet and still for a moment before letting go of your leg. He nods in understanding but still looks sad and very tired.

“Do you want to go back to bed now?” you ask.

He nods again and reaches up towards you so you can pick him up. You tell Bruno you’ll be right back before heading to Narancia’s bedroom. You gently place and tuck him into bed before smoothing his hair back.

“I found your hairband by the way. I’ll give it to you when you wake up.”

The sadness on the bees face disappears and he smiles sleepily. “Thanks, you’re the best. Please don’t go home while I’m sleeping.”

You smile at the silly idea but make sure to settle the bee’s worries.

“I promise I won’t. Good night Narancia.”

-----

Just a few more days until you had to go back home and you had been spending all your alone time just trying to just finish up Bruno’s top. At some points you thought you wouldn't be able to before it was time to go but with some lost sleep you manage to finish all the lace for the sleeves. You were now spending your quiet morning putting everything together.

Forming the last stitch, you cut the string and place the needle down. You hold out the finished top in front of you.

The long sleeved loose-fitting top contained a V neck and was all lace except for part of the back where you sewed in a black silk cloth. Overall the lace was mostly simple but there were places where you tried to implement more floral patterns.

You look over it once more and smile content when you don't find any glaring mistakes. Now all you had to do is wait until night time rolled around.

You drink the rest of nectar from your cup sitting on the table and sigh. You were tired. Very tired. Your sleep schedule was all over the place the last couple days because of this top, and now that you were done a nap would be nice. You make sure to find a good place to hide away the top before going to Bruno’s room.

When you enter, the moth is softly snoring in bed but the moment you try to get under the covers you stir him awake. He opens an eye slightly before closing it again and reaching out towards you. You cuddle up to him and he wraps his arms around you.

“Taking a nap?” he asks.

“Yep. By the way I have a surprise for you tonight.”

A grin appears on his face. “Oh? I wonder what it is.”

You softly boop his nose. “You’ll see later, so you can go back to sleep now.”

It doesn't take long for you to drift off after that but when you finally awaken, the light from outside has been replaced by the night. You hadn’t expected to be asleep that long and feel very disoriented because of it.

Bruno looks over at you from the book he’s reading. “Sleep well?”

You sit up and rub at your eyes. “I guess so. I didn't mean to sleep that long though.” You get up and stretch. “Is Narancia awake?”

“I actually just put him back to bed. He woke up around the same time you fell asleep.”

Your eyes widen at how heavy you had fallen asleep.

“God you must be tired then….Oh wait your surprise!”

You quietly make your way to the main room and grab the satchel that you had hid behind one of the pillows on the couch. After pulling out the top, you can’t stop yourself from looking over it again, but you nod to yourself to discard any doubts.

Bruno’s sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for you when you return.

“Okay take your sweater off,” you say, almost demand.

His brows raise and you almost laugh.

“It’s not like that I made something for you.”

You hold out the top to show him. “I'm not sure you remember us talking about me making a top for you but you probably saw peeks of it whenever you managed to sneak up on me...Anyways I finally finished it!”

The moth gets up to get a better look at the top.

“____ it must have taken so long to make this. It looks really well done.”

Bruno takes off his sweater and you hand the top to him. When it’s finally on, you almost die. It looks good on him, really good.

The moth looks at you with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yes...wait put on some bottoms too.”

Your eyes follow his every movement as he slips on a pair of black bottoms.

“Amore, you look like you're going to pass out…”

“Probably. You look so good! I was worried all your fluff would get in the way but it actually looks nice with it.” You nod to yourself. “Yep, I’m definitely showing my mentor this!”

“Mentor?”

“Well kinda. This spider helped me learn how to do lace so I could make this outfit for you.”

He tilts his head as if he misheard. “Did you just say spider?”

“He’s completely harmless I swear! I thought he would be dangerous and was nervous to approach him but turns out the rumors were true.”

“Rumors? ….Well if you say he’s safe then I won’t worry. Or at least I’ll try not too.”

Bruno however still looks skeptical.

“Don’t worry, I'm being safe and if he wanted to eat me he definitely had multiple chances to do it.”

The moth’s brows furrow from your statement but you continue on. “You'll go with me to model the outfit right?”

“Of course.”

“Make sure you wear bottoms too!”

He grins. “I will.” He presses a kiss to your cheek. “Thank you for this gift. You're very talented and I’m glad to show that off.”

Your eyes widen slightly and you’re wordless for a tick but manage to nod. “It’s no problem. I love making stuff for you...”

After gifting Bruno’s top, the days seem to pass quickly. Other than stitching patterns into the hairband you made for Narancia you’re mainly packing and cleaning. And during this time, the sun starts to make more frequent appearances and the weather slowly gets warmer. It’s not long before you don’t have to put on multiple layers before going outside anymore.

While the three of you are outside trying to clean up the leftover items from the melted pile of snow that were once your lovely snowbugs, you notice the start of a few new leaves growing on the mostly bare branches of the tree.

It was still a bit cold but maybe just maybe if you tried you could take flight. You flap your wings a few times to wake them up from the long period of non use. You then try to get off the ground but you’re only left exhausted from your attempt.

Bruno comes up behind looking at you expectantly. You sigh and move your wings down so he can so he can properly wrap his arms around you. He then starts rapidly vibrating and of course Narancia latches onto your leg and begins giggling when the vibrating spreads to him. You laugh along but are momentarily surprised when you feel vibrations coming from the bee too. It’s nowhere near the level of Bruno’s but it was better than anything you could do.

After you're warm enough Bruno and Narancia let go and with a few flaps of your wings you’re back in the air. You almost cheer in excitement and immediately make a round about the house before flying up towards the branches of the tree.

“Finally!”

You always took flying for granted until it was taken away from you for a whole season. You take a moment to enjoy the sun's beams through the parts in the branches before lowering back down to where Bruno and Narancia stand. However you're not ready to stop flying just yet and stay off your feet.

Narancia, who has been watching excitedly, reaches up towards you when you get close. “I wanna fly too!”

You look down at him, amused, grab his arms and lift him up before spinning him around. His squeals and giggles fill the air.

A small smile sits on Bruno’s face, content with just watching you two.

You play around with Narancia a bit more in the air before putting him down.

“Your wings are so cool! I can't wait to have wings too!”

You hadn't gotten yours until you were well into your teens and went through your pupa stage, but perhaps bees grew theirs at a different time.

“One day you will but I don't mind carrying you until then! I’ll even take you to visit flowers with me.”

Narancia smiles, “Yes! Can we go now?”

Bruno jumps in before you actually answer knowing that you would most likely say anything other than no. “Another day Narancia. We came out here to clean up.”

He pouts at Bruno but before he can start whining the moth gives him a look that clearly says ‘don't start’.

The bee crosses his arms and huffs. “Fine!”

You struggle to hold back your laughter when Bruno shakes his head.

#one of those chapters i went over a lot and just wanna post now lol #bruno buccellati x reader #bruno bucciarati x reader #bruno x reader #jjba x reader #might be later with the next chapter since i start a new job and will probably be stressed by the change

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mycptsdstory · 4 years ago

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Here’s how toxic I was back in the day (and yes I’m admitting to all my mistakes);

I used to have a big go at people and bully them when I thought they were prettier than me.

I used to cause arguments because I couldn’t have a go at my family so I had a go at strangers on the Internet. Or I used to have a big go at people who I knew.

I used to stalk people on social media and wishing my life was theirs.

When I was a kid, I used to start fights, didn’t care if I got beaten up either. I had a lot of anger problems that I didn’t know how to deal with.

I was supper attached with my abusers and speaking of them highly (especially my mother). I also didn’t realise at the time I had Trauma Bonding. (Will do a post in detail about that in the future.)

I used to drink alcohol to hide the pain. Never realising it was causing more harm than good.

I used to cause arguments with people who wronged me in the past. Didn’t think ar the time that strong feeling I had was an emotional flashback, not realising that happened long ago.

I used to gossip and bitch about people a lot, thinking that was healthy. It’s NEVER okay in anyway shape of form to do that.

I used to judge people so easily but never thinking I copied that from my mother. It’s NEVER okay to judge someone, just because you follow their lifestyle, doesn’t mean you can judge them.

I used to bully my own friends, thinking that was okay to do, since my own mother did that with her friends. It’s NEVER okay to do that.

I used put my own insecurities onto my friends and other people. Again, that’s NEVER okay to do.

I used to say “get over it” or “why can’t you be happy for once” or “can’t you just stop being depressed” or “can’t you just ‘snap it out of it’” to people who are depressed, have anxiety or have social anxiety and so on. I thought this was normal since my mother said it all the time to me and never realising I copied it from her. Again, this is NEVER okay to do.

I thought I knew everything and I used to give people really bad advice. Never realising I copied it from my mother.

I thought it was weird that some people didn’t drink alcohol. So I used to persuade my own friends to drink more. This is NEVER okay to do.

Even tho when I was living with my mother, I had two lives. Like one life where I was dating girls, having one stands with girls and going out drinking behind my families back. The other life I used to judge my own friends for being apart of LGBTQIA+ community. This is NEVER okay to do.

I used to think it was weird and strange that people are asexual and they need therapy to be into sex. I was basically judging their lives. Again, this is NEVER okay to do.

I used to judge people for marrying twice and thought they were sluts. I never realised my mother taught me this and I was copying her traits. Again, NEVER okay to do.

I thought it was okay for guys to use me and they could have sex with me, whenever they feel like (I had a lot of dissociation with sex in general).

I thought it was normal that guys would beat me up daily (I had a lot of Trauma Bonding issues).

I used to bully my own friends and other people for their disabilities, even hidden disabilities. Again, NEVER okay to do.

People used to have to walk like there’s eggshells around me. Making sure they don’t offend me. (Btw, that’s super toxic).

I used to judge people on their happiness, like people watching ASMR or something that makes them happy. Just because I don’t do what they do, doesn’t mean it’s okay to judge people’s lives. This is NEVER okay to do.

I used to judge people who go out drinking every weekend or month. This is NEVER okay to do.

I used to judge women for being pornstars or selling their bodies on the Internet; via webcam girls, models who do nudes and lingerie. I thought it was “not natural” and wrong because the bible says it’s wrong. This is NEVER okay to do. Hence why I follow Wicca now.

I used to judge other people’s religions and beliefs because the bible says it’s wrong. This is NEVER EVER okay to do. Hence why I don’t follow Christianity anymore, I follow Wicca.

I used to be super racist and thought white is the superior race. Any other race is dumb, any culture is rude and anyone who isn’t white should be poor and white people should be rich. This is NEVER EVER okay to do.

I used to think that being a transgender was wrong and they weren’t “real people”, like they had no rights and it’s wrong to change the gender because it’s against the bible. For example; you are born as a male so you should stay as a male and you are born as a female, you should stay as a female. Being transgender is “not natural and goes against God who created you”. This is NEVER EVER okay to think like that. Hence why I follow Wicca.

I used to think that women got asked for rape because women should bow down to men at all times. (I’m still shocked I used to think like this). This is NEVER EVER okay to think like that.

I used to think tattoos was the devils work and you should never get a tattoo because you’re “damaging your skin that god created for you”. This is so WRONG to think like that. Hence why I’m following Wicca and not Christianity.

I used to think that women should cover up and if you show cleavage that you’re a slut and asking to get raped. This is NEVER okay to think like that.

I thought spreading rumours about someone was okay. Even if my mother started it, I thought it was normal. This is NEVER okay to do.

I used to think it was weird and wrong that girls would have one boyfriend throughout their life. So WRONG.

I used to think that people should have lost their virginity till they were at least 13-16. This is soooo WRONG on so many levels.

I used to think it was weird and wrong if you’re still a virgin by 50+. This is WRONG.

I used to think it was wrong that a woman had children not be married. So WRONG.

I used to think the man should stay around all the time and have him around for his sakes and the children’s sake. Even tho he’s abusing the wife. This is NEVER OKAY.

I used to think divorce is wrong, even tho they are getting abused and raped daily. Completely WRONG to think that.

I used to think that people can get over death easily. That death isn’t that big of a deal. Even if they got murdered or they have committed suicide and it’s “not a big deal”. This is NEVER okay to think like this.

Suicide is wrong and they will go to hell and be tortured for the rest of time. Suicide is selfish and it’s wrong. Satan will punish the person and they should “get over” their suicidal thoughts. THIS IS NEVER EVER OKAY TO THINK LIKE THAT.

I used to think miscarriages are “not a big deal”. This is NEVER EVER okay to think like that.

I used to think doing drugs and drinking alcohol to avoid pain was normal. So toxic btw.

My family does incest and marry their cousins, fuck their uncles/aunties that’s okay to do. I thought this was normal. THIS IS NEVER EVER EVER OKAY.

I thought it was normal that my family picked my friends and the people who I date and marry. This is illegal and SO WRONG!

I thought it was weird and wrong for people who didn’t to marry outside of the families circle. Like I thought it was okay to marry my cousins or family friends. This is soooo WRONG on so many levels.

I used to think any kind of therapy was bad and they should “get over it”. This is NEVER okay to do.

I used to be such a people pleaser and everyone should like me and should be friends with me. (This is soooo toxic.)

I used force friendship on people (this also super duper toxic).

I used to think that women should marry and have kids later. So WRONG!

I used to think women should never be single parent. SO WRONG!

I used to think it was wrong that women didn’t want children and not get married. This is WRONG btw.

I thought it was wrong that people didn’t get married in a church. So WRONG!

All LBGTQIA+ shouldn’t get married, they are not human beings and they go against the bible. This is so stupid and so WRONG!

I used to think men who dress up as drag queens are “not natural” and it goes against the bible and they should be thrown in jail and hell. So this is NEVER okay to think like that.

I used to think that people who didn’t swear are weird and “unnatural”. This is so toxic.

I used to judge peoples kinks and fetishes. This is soooo toxic.

I used to think guys raping me was okay and I was “asking for it” or they were “entitled” to have sex with me. Aka rape me was okay. This is NEVER EVER okay to think like that.

I used to shit stir with my friends and cause arguments within friendship groups. This is soooooo toxic.

I used to think only women are victims to domestic abuse and men should “man up”. THIS IS SO WRONG!

I used to think that everyone should marry, have children and live how the bible says. Soooo WRONG!

I used to think adults watching cartoons (not anime) is babyish and wrong. This is so toxic btw.

I used to think men should only game and not women. So wrong.

I used to think some jobs should be a mans only job and the women should stay in the kitchen. Super toxic btw.

I used to think that everyone should go to church and if they don’t, they will go to hell. This is so stupid btw.

I used to think that single dads are going to be bad dads and the children should go to the woman. Also that woman should be married to a different man so they can’t be single and grow up a child/children on their own. This is soooo toxic.

I used to think women shouldn’t have their own business and women should stay in the kitchen. This is super toxic.

It’s a mans job to be in the military and women can’t because they are women. Women can’t shoot because they are women. Again, so toxic and so WRONG!

I used to think that you can’t have children and work at the same time. So toxic btw.

I used to think children are dumb and they don’t understand when you call them names. Btw they do understand and they are not dumb in anyway shape or form.

I used to think that a still borns death is normal and they should never grieve. The woman should blame herself for the still birth. This is so WRONG ON SO MANY LEVELS!

I think that’s everything. Sorry it’s a huge list, I just had to write it down because I know I was toxic before. So writing down all my mistakes, honestly makes me feel better, like I’m admiting my wrongs and I’m trying not to be a toxic person. Trying not to be like my mother.

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bi-dazai · 4 years ago

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honestly i think i have a weird anger or cultural confusion where other gay and trans ppl are like much happier and comfortable to come out and shit and be open, but I've always had an extremely complicated relationship with it because it's always made me feel so isolated and lonely, even with other gay ppl around. and younger ppl especially will like go around coming out so frequently and meanwhile if I'm going to even tell you that I'm attracted to women I have to trust you 110% and that isn't something that comes easy.

I'm terrified of like. Wearing even rainbow goddamn socks because I'm scared shitless of getting bullied, or harassed, or even assaulted. Which is ironic considering I try to be quite fashionable in public but with being openly bi (let alone being openly TRANS) it's a complete no-no.

Like I think as much as I love being bi and nb at the same time I still despise it, I still think it's ruined my life. I have gender dysphoria about my chest whereas if I was cis I would be so happy with how feminine my body is. My first ever relationship with another girl at the moment being cut short by abusive homophobia fucked me up in innumerous ways, leading me to like...severe issues with the way i feel about sex and emotional attachment and touch.

And ofc there's the homophobia, like at this moment I'm probably leaning towards getting a fuckbuddy or smth over tinder but like a romantic relationship with another person is terrifying, like I'm insanely private w relationships even w men, I won't let us hold hands if I think too many people might see bc i have this stupid complex

There's more and more but my relationship with being Out is one where it's something that I simultaneously desire and despise, being Out is one of the most terrifying concepts I can think of and to me having someone refer to me as "they" and not as a woman is simply not as important as being safe, as not living in even more fear of assault.

And then all around me ppl my age (although usually younger) are all coming out to anyone and everyone like it's just casual, saying their pronouns like it's nothing. And first it's disbelief and shock because holy fuck, has everyone gone fucking mad?? Are we all so fucking stupid that we just forget the everloving fear homophobia strikes into you?? And then it's the jealousy, that these people have this comfortable relationship with their own gay/transness and enough trust to actually open up and tell a room full of strangers "please call me they not she". It's disappointment and anger in myself that almost 7 years after forcing myself to whisper "I'm bisexual" to the bathroom mirror in the middle of the night and then cry my eyes out because it felt like I'd been cursed, and probably over a decade since I'd started having sexual feelings about all genders, and an entire lifetime of having feelings for men women and others, after so long I'm still just a coward who sits and hates it all, who fears it all.

But then recently I've come to the realisation that the way I realised I was gay was a way that's kind of...dying out. That being the mostly offline way.

Don't take this the wrong way but I've found a lot of people go online and find this overwhelming amount of support and representation for gay and trans identity. You can argue validly this statement, but the context I use this in is comparing it to like. 2013. People were way less online. Being an online celebrity was a novelty.

At school there were dyke, faggot, tranny, etc, thrown around as if they were confetti. Jokes about "lesbos" and "lesbihonest" humiliated any girl who was too close to another girl. I grew up not just in Brisbane Queensland but in a town that was connected to the mainland only by two bridges - a landbridge and a humanmade bridge. The school was overwhelmingly anglo. Overwhelmingly right wing.

I realised I was bi with minimal help from Tumblr. I realised I was bi because I fell, hard, for my best friend. And then she liked me back, and our relationship was amazing. But the school found out. We held hands under the table, we found a quiet moment to kiss and everyone pointed and stared. We made out in the shadow of a building and turned to find twenty people watching gawkeyed, pointing, fascinated.

The entire time her mum was abusive, and massively homophobic. She blamed me for turning her daughter gay. She forced us multiple times to break up at the threat of violence. Eventually we did. We never talked about it. Our friendship never returned like it used to. It was awkward, tinged with sadness, regret, yearning and young love cut short.

It was traumatic, to say the least.

Tumblr in 2014, despite the cringe screenshots, wasn't actually mostly about LGBT positivity or whatever. I first saw the term bisexual on, if you can believe me, a quotev story in 2011 about a cheerleader and an emo girl who get together in a secret relationship. You were either gay or straight, or you had an exception. Bisexual felt right, though, for me, felt accurate, was accurate.

It was years of confusion and secrecy and guilt, peeks at other girls in the changing room that I couldn't help and I didn't understand why. Then it was months and months of anger and frustration at myself that I was feeling this way and confused about myself, and then when I said those words it felt like I was being torn apart. It felt like my life had fallen apart. I cried every goddamn night, I felt awful all the time.

At school the kids noticed. They noticed before I started dating my friend, they noticed the way I looked at her and they interrogated me about it. I'd claim up and down I had a crush on another boy - true perhaps, but it was a passing interest - and then they said they told him and analysed how I reacted. And then the interrogations continued for months because the gay girl was entertainment for them. Around me, as I walked between classes, had lunch, walked home, dyke dyke dyke faggot hahaha.

And then the relationship happened and then leelah alcorn happened and I learned what a trans person is. And sometime when I was fifteen I saw nonbinary begin to pop up, terms like genderfluid and nonbinary and they rang true like bisexual did, but the last time I went down a rabbit hole like that it ended in trauma, and another person got hurt. I didn't throw homophobia at her, but I felt and still feel responsible for it. I didn't turn her gay, but I made it obvious. I don't quite know how to say it.

I knew I was nonbinary, deep down. One day I decided to add that to my tumblr bio. Nobody gave a shit, just like nobody gave a shit when I said I was bi. But that was because I wasn't open about it even online. I couldn't talk about that stuff or I'd curse myself.

Time went on, I got more comfortable, collected fresh new traumas. My brother came out as trans. Around me, friends came out as gay and trans. But they kept coming out. They didn't stop at close friends and trusted family, they told teachers, their entire class. I didn't understand. Why the fuck would you put yourself at risk like that?? And I still don't. I said it was jealousy and anger at myself before, and maybe it is still a little bit, but now, it's just concern.

As I said, the way I realised I was gay is the rather old fashioned way - offline, through trauma, and almost entirely unenjoyable and traumatic. A lot of kids still go through that for sure. But the ones I see telling everyone over that they're gay or trans are, in my experience, not those ones. As the internet began to become more of a general use thing and less of a "only recluse weirdos" space, the online LGBT safe space began to expand into an audience bigger than before. Online, you were safe. Nobody knew your name, you were behind a screen. Homophobia was veiled, you could just delete a hateful anon, could just log off. You could put up your pronouns and people would use them because, well, ppl didn't really have any other identifier someone might use for your gender. So this positive uplifting atmosphere spawned for the most part. And instead of learning through confusion and rare chance encounters with random words and crying into the sink every night that you're gay, you much easier come across this content that tells you indepth what this is and that it's okay. And you think, well wow, that's me, and then...you know, I guess. Not denying there's some of the classic self hatred etc but...you have this safe space online to fall back on, and I cannot emphasise how much that has pushed the acceptance and widespread knowledge of lgbt people in the past 5 years. I didn't exactly have that space, and my realisation was through mostly real life channels, which were swamped at all sides by homophobia, at worst, abusive, at kindest, it would treat you like a sideshow attraction.

Being someone who arguably isn't old enough to brush this difference away with being an "older gay" but still having had a gay experience quite different to the majority in my generation (applying this to area as well) I have to say I'm confronted with this comfortableness other days have a lot and it's always jarring. I think also that while it's important and I'm happy that "younger" gays and transes have at least one good support network/space to fall back onto online, I do think it creates this kind of...dangerous other side, especially for those who go to schools that are LGBT positive and have families who are also friendly to that sort of stuff. I find that young gay teens are totally unprepared and unhardened for the fact that most people you run into in real life despise your guts for existing as who you are. And while we can make as many soppy gay narratives as possible about being honest about who you are and losing shame, we need to face the fact and teach young lgbt kids that being Out isn't just something you do as a ritual in being gay or trans, it's a brave thing and it's completely optional. And furthermore, most importantly, it's insanely dangerous.

I don't think that teenage, raw fear of the consequences of even the very concept of being Out has ever left me. Perhaps I have to thank the homophobic 14 yr olds who swamped me in slurs and trauma, because it's given me a survival sense that's kept me closeted so far you'd never get in.

But occasionally I'm tempted, particularly with my transness which I am only out to perhaps 3 people about, to venture into the world of telling people about yourself. I started a new uni semester and in a tutorial, the teacher handed out cards. We were to use it as a placard to write our names on it so the teacher would learn our names over the next few classes. And, if we chose...our pronouns.

I stared at that card for what felt like a million years. This has always been an ordeal. People don't know how to pronounce my name, even though it's a rather simple one. But pronouns? I'd never really told anyone those. Online, yes, and once when I was asked by a friend i was brave enough to say "any will do" but this - this wasn't the curated safe online space, this wasn't a one-time phrase to a friend. This was an open, permanent thing that would sit below me every class, declaring me to 18 other people. I wrote down "NATALYA", then beneath "she/". And then I stared some more. I felt like I was going to die. I felt like I was the biggest fool, because before I could stop myself I wrote "she/they". No "he", not yet. But...it was there.

At the end of the class the teacher collected the placards. I wanted to run back screaming, wanted to ask her for a new card so I could be safe again. But I didn't because I would look like a freak and a coward.

I still think it's stupid. I still think I've put some petty gesture that no one will ever respect (if they can call you she they won't ever call you they) above my own safety. The thing that really struck me was that it didn't feel good. The reason I wrote it like that, I believe in hindsight, is that I was curious what those other kids feel like, because it must feel good to declare that you're a tr*nny d*ke in front of the entire class, good enough to beat the stomach-lurching dread that precedes such an action. But it didn't. It just felt like an unnecessary risk. And it made me feel worse, like there was a target on the back of my head.

I think I could talk about this forever, about how so many kids believe coming out is this thing you're required to do to be a good gay, but it's not. It's stupid stupid reckless, and in my case it ends with you getting fucked over.

But Ive written for ages and gotten prosaic halfway through so I'm gonna shut up. Basically why the fuck do you guys come out to everyone like please stay safe instead of this it isn't worth it.

#tw d slur #tw f slur #tw homophobia #personal #i didnt hear much transphobia in my grade until towards the end of highschool #because nobody back then rly knew what a trans person was #also #long post #like REALLY long #t slur

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marvelhead17 · 4 years ago

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The Tale of Eossimar (Original Female Character x Bofur Fic)

Chapter 10

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings to cover the whole fic: Fake relationships, half-blood children, mild violence, fight scenes, male/male relationships, Dwarf gender concepts, battle of five armies fix-it, pre-battle of five armies, near death incidents, talking to dead people, mentions of paradise/heaven.

Nari squinted as her eyes fluttered open, the bright light making it difficult to make sense of where she was for a moment, she raised her hand to give them some relief and after some time her eyes adjusted to her surroundings. A clear stream trickled calmly just ahead of her, flowing over small pebbles and gently nudging lily pads, she frowned and cautiously walked towards it; the green grass underneath her boots was soft and as green as the first signs of spring, there was no sign of the winter they had been in as she glanced around, wherever she was it was certainly not familiar to her.

She was about to take another step forward when a voice called her by her full name, for a second she froze before looking in the direction she thought it came from, her mouth fell open as she gawked at the figure.

“Father… what are ye doing here?”

“I was about to ask ye the same thing, lass, and… Callon, son?” his arms fell at his sides and he jogged over to them.

“I... don't understand?” Nari’s eyes widened as she saw her brother standing just next to her, he must’ve been quiet the whole time. “Cal, ye’re here as well?”

“Come here, both of ye,” Kalin held his arms out and they didn’t hesitate to move into them, clinging onto him and he squeezed back even harder; they let the tears they had fall down their faces, crying silently in the embrace. “My son, ye’ve grown so much!” he released them and smiled, “And Nari, my fighting champion!” he laughed and pressed his forehead into hers carefully for a moment.

“I’m glad ye’ve ended that Cáleb’s nonsense, that boy was never yer One, no… Ye’ve only just met him now,”

“What do ye mean by that?” her brows furrowed.

“Father, it’s been so long- We’ve missed ye so much,”

“I know son, I’ve been watching over ye all. And I wish I had been strong enough to fight that ruddy orc arrow-”

Nari interrupted him, “Ye did yer best adad, I wish we could’ve helped ye more-”

Kalin shook his head, “It’s not yer fault Nari, and I have to tell ye, it wasn’t Cáleb’s either. I let myself get surrounded, and I was outnumbered,”

“But Father,”

“Ye must let go of all this anger and guilt, my daughter,” he placed his hand on her shoulder gently, “It’s not doing any good for yer soul,” she lowered her tense shoulders and nodded reluctantly.

“Soul…” Callon repeated, “Is that what we are right now adad?” Are we, are we… dead?”

“I don’t know son, I think so, but I’m not sure how ye ended up here,”

“Nari fought Bolg of the North, and, well I’m not sure what happened to me, but my head still seems to be hurting,” he rubbed the back of his head and frowned slightly.

“Orcs, are ye both mad? Ye’re far too young-”

“We’re not pebbles anymore adad, it’s like ye said, we’ve grown,” Nari argued.

“Not enough if ye’ve been making daft decisions to get yerselves killed!” he looked between them and took a breath, “I hope that it was worth the risk?”

“I hope so; we were protecting the heirs of Thrór,”

“I see, chasing down the million dreams then… So ye’ve kept my visions close to heart, have ye?” he smiled a little.

“Of course adad,” she smiled at him.

“I can only hope that Thorin revokes his word and lets the people reside in Erebor,”

“Ye struck a bargain with the lad?” he asked in surprise, “Last I saw of him, he was obsessing over the treasure hoards, even making Callon search for the Arkenstone for him. That fool was dragon-sick,”

“He’s recovered since then,” Nari explained as her father wrapped an arm over his son’s shoulder with a chuckle.

“Callon my lad, last I held ye, ye were running round my ankles like a wild thing!”

“I’ve missed ye,” he admitted, his head bowing as he looked at the grass, his father pulled him into a hug and patted his backside firmly and stood back as he stared up at him.

“Mahal ye’re tall… And I know ye have laddie, I’ve heard when ye talk to me in the night,”

Callon’s eyes widened, “Ye have?”

“Oh aye, but we can’t interact with the physical world here,”

“Oh…”

“Father… what did ye mean when he said I’ve only now met my One?” she asked, her father smiled at her and chuckled.

“Oh I’m sure ye have more important questions than that to ask daughter,”

“Most certainly,” Callon grinned as he looked around them, and then it waned as he noticed the new figures appearing in the surrounding area, some familiar faces of the guard caught his attention; and he swallowed as he understood that they must have passed during the battle as well, a few reunited with lost loved ones while others ambled along in solitude.

“Follow me, my children,” Kalin stepped ahead of them towards the border of the land, and the siblings raised a brow to each other before following him quietly, as they came to a stop the sun ducked into the waters but there was no darkness as they had anticipated.

Gradual warmth spread across their backsides, they glimpsed the sun rising up behind them and frowned at the strangeness of their new homeland.

“In this place, the sun may set but the land will never fall into darkness, it’s an eternal paradise if ye will,”

“It’s breath-taking,” Callon whispered, closing his eyes and enjoying the heat that woke his muscles.

Nari felt her impatience growing as she eyeballed her father, “So adad, our questions that ye said ye’d answer-?”

“Enjoy the peace for a moment Nari, take some time,” Kalin spoke calmly and she sighed irritably, closing her eyes and then taking a few deep breaths in and out to ease her. “And Callon, son,” he looked to him as Callon opened his eyes, “I’ve known ye were different since ye were a pebble, and I’m proud of who ye’ve become.”

“And it saddens me greatly that I haven’t been around to comfort yer worries earlier for ye,”

Callon's eyes welled up and his voice cracked, “Adad,” he embraced him.

“I know that Fíli suits ye well, ye were right to follow yer heart lad,”

He nodded miserably, “If only I could’ve told him my feelings sooner,” Nari cleared her throat loudly and scowled at her father.

“Nari, I fear it may still be a tricky road ahead until ye unite with yer One, but I can tell ye… He’s closer than ye realise,”

“’Still’, Father we’re in… Heaven, I suppose? There’s no chance of that happening,” she shook her head, Kalin wordlessly pulled both of them into a hug, squeezing them tightly as he could manage.

“Oh I will miss ye both, however, now is not yer time…” he let them go, “I’m sorry to do this.”

“Father, what are ye talking-” she screamed as he shoved her and Callon over the cliff side and they fell down towards the waters. They expected their bodies to hit the ocean with a splash, but were shocked by the whirlwind that nearly ruptured their ears instead.

They both shot up from their beds gasping desperately in the dim light, a pair of rough hands rested on her shoulders and held her still briefly, and she struggled against them angrily.

“Adad?!” Nari cried out, and winced at the sudden stinging near her stomach, she put her hand over it to try and ease it.

“Hey now lass, ye’ll be alright, we’re in Erebor,” Bofur’s voice spoke patiently to her, she started sobbing as she grasped the reality of her surroundings, and she welcomed the warm arms that embraced her cautiously; burying her head into his shoulder as the hot tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Ye don’t understand Fíli! We saw, we saw our father,” Bofur watched as Callon bawled against the prince’s chest, Nari was shaking against him and he rubbed her back soothingly, “He, he forced us to come back,”

She hissed unexpectedly and he moved back in concern, she lifted her hand and it was covered in a thin layer of fresh blood, the white tunic she had been given was soaked through. She grumbled and pressed her hand back on her wound.

“Lad, we need Óin, she’s bleeding again,” he told Fíli and the dwarf was quick to run out the door and out of sight, a few words were heard exchanging in brief conversation and the healer entered their room, Bofur rose from his position to let the healer sit in his place.

“Right let’s have a look then,” the healer moved her hand away and she cursed at him, “Fíli, I need your assistance again lad,”

“I can help too-”

“It’s alright laddie, wait outside,” Óin waved him away as he persuaded her to lay on her back, Bofur huffed and begrudgingly left the room, standing near the entrance so that he could still listen to what was happening.

Fíli moved her tunic up to settle it just under her chest and she squirmed uncomfortably as the healer cleaned the blood away, “Don’t worry, I won’t be looking,” the young dwarf assured her when he noticed that she had moved the tunic slightly, she gritted her teeth as Óin became rougher in his handling.

“You’ve opened it somehow Nari,” he tutted, “Hold her down laddie,” he instructed as the dwarf pressed one hand firmly onto her shoulder, pressing her further into the mattress, “Now this’ll sting a bit lass,”

“Hey!” she grunted as something sharp pierced her skin, Óin pulled the needle through without even acknowledging her, and she felt another prick as he pushed it through again. “Ow!”

“Here, take my hand,” Fíli offered and before she could pass it over, she uttered another curse as the thread tugged against her delicate flesh; Nari grabbed his hand firmly and shut her eyes tightly.

As Óin continued threading the wound closed she let a few more curses fall from her mouth, some Elvish ones thrown in the mix, Fíli patted her shoulder.

“He’s nearly done, just take a few breaths,” Fíli gave her a small smile as she scowled at him, she did as he suggested, waiting impatiently for the healer to finish his work. She scrutinised the prince’s face in the meanwhile and noticed how swollen and red they were, presumably he’d been crying, but she couldn’t be sure why.

“All done lass,” Óin announced after checking her underside as well, “And don’t you dare think about sitting up now,” he warned her sternly with a pointed finger, “You should be thankful that you’re alive at all,”

“Thank ye Óin,” she tried to look down at the stitching but felt like she might get sick from the sight; he only hummed as he started dressing the wound with a covering to protect it.

“Just doing my part dear… There we are,” he smiled, “Now, there’s something I must ask you lassie,”

“Aye?”

“When did you come into contact with fire?”

“Fire?” she frowned, thinking hard for a moment, before she raised her hands slowly, examining them in fascination. “My hands.”

“Your hands are fine lass; it’s just from touching your injury,”

“No, I mean… the fire, it came from my hands,” she looked between them as they stared at her in concern, “I don’t know how- but my hands were burning,”

“Sure they were dear,” Óin patted her shoulder before standing up, “Make sure that she gets plenty of rest, and some food,” he then whispered to Fíli, “I think she’s hit her head a bit too hard somewhere along the line,” he moved over to give Callon a quick check.

“Ye have to believe me,” Nari insisted, trying to sit up and Fíli kept her down with a shake of his head, he leaned closer to her.

“I believe you, Kíli told me what he saw,” he whispered, “And there were no torches or flames nearby to explain otherwise. Don’t you stress yourself over it right now,” he suggested as he stood up.

Bofur walked back into the room and settled back next to her, and Kíli stood next to his brother as he fussed over Callon in the adjacent bed. Kíli’s features were darker in this light, which matched the mood he seemed to be in, the usual cheery and childish energy nowhere to be seen in his concerned eyes.

“Ye had me worried there Nari,” Bofur smiled as he leaned in to her, and she started a little, before returning the smile slowly.

“Sorry for thrashing about like that earlier,” she mumbled sheepishly.

“That’s alright, ye were scared and all, I understand,” his eyes locked with hers and they sat in silence for a good few moments, before she cleared her throat and started coughing.

“Mahal, my throat is dry,”

“I’ll get ye some water,” he said and he hurriedly went to get it; Kíli stalked over to her side and sat down on the mattress.

“You saved my life yesterday,” he briefly looked at her, before focusing on pulling the loose thread he had discovered on the blanket that covered her. “I’m not quite sure how to properly thank you,”

“I couldn’t let that filth get away with murder, not again,”

“You’d seen him before?”

“Up close I didn’t recognise him, but the back of his head I remembered well enough, he’s why I know of orc arrows,”

“So Bolg killed your father?” Fíli asked; Bofur returned and passed on a water-skin to him, and handed the other to Nari, the siblings chugged the water down eagerly.

“And I killed him,” Callon grinned, “Seems just,”

“I’m missing something here,” Bofur looked at everyone in confusion, “Who has Callon killed?”

“He killed Bolg, and it appears that Bolg had been the reason for their father’s death,” Fíli explained and he nodded, mouthing an ‘oh’ as he sat on the edge of Nari’s bed.

“It’s good to see you two awake,” Thorin’s voice came from the doorway, he walked over to stand next to Fíli and looked between the siblings, “I don’t know whether I should be calling you both courageous, or foolish, for what you’ve done for us. Risking your lives for us is not something we’ll take light to heart,” his eyes met Nari’s and he shook his head.

“And you, you came back to aid us, despite that I went back on my word. And you very nearly died saving my Kíli in the process; there are not enough words to express how grateful I am to be able to let my sister know that her children are safe,”

She raised her hand, “I was keeping my word, a promise is a promise and I like to know that I can uphold them… Well most of them my sister might argue,” She forced a chuckle, “What’s important, is that the line of Durin endures,”

“Your mother is correct to call you modest Nari,” Thorin smiled, “And we will be sure to properly honour the two of you once you’ve made your recoveries,”

“Well, thank ye Thorin, it’s very kind of ye,”

“It’s the least I can do,” he glanced between them and turned to Fíli, “I’m sure these two would be grateful for a hot meal, and then rest,”

“Oh, yes Uncle,” he moved and hooked Kíli by the arm, dragging him towards the door, “Come along Kee,”

“Alright, alright, I can walk myself,” the younger brother shook his arm out and shoved his brother lightly to the side, they left the room and their voices still travelled as they bickered down the hallway.

Thorin chuckled, “I knew it wouldn’t have been long for those two to start at each other, if you had known them since they could walk you would understand how they’ve matured in their age,” he sat on a nearby chair in the room, making himself comfortable for what seemed like the first in a long time.

“They must’ve been a wicked team when they were pebbles,” Bofur agreed, as he manoeuvred into a more comfortable position.

“Most definitely,” Thorin smiled as he reminisced, “And to this day Kíli is still the instigator behind all their pranks and mischief, for some reason beyond my understanding Fíli goes along with his little brother’s schemes,”

“Oh I can believe that,” Nari nodded, “My youngest nephew Lorin has gotten Lumlin into trouble many times,”

“And yet ye’d always get me in trouble,” Callon quipped and she looked at him with mock surprise.

“How dare ye!” she threw her spare pillow at him and he laughed as he knocked it aside, it landed at Thorin’s feet.

“It’s true!”

“What’s true?” Fíli queried as he and his brother walked in cautiously with steaming bowls of food, the smell made their stomachs growl loudly and they both bit their lips in embarrassment, Fíli and Kíli sniggered and handed them the meals.

“We were just discussing how Nari was undoubtedly the unruly child in her family,” Thorin’s mouth twisted to a smirk as her mouth fell open at his words.

“And just like that I’m no longer the hero,” she dug into her food and spooned the heap into her mouth, after chewing and swallowing she spoke again. “My moment of fame and fortune was taken away from me so cruelly,” she placed a hand dramatically on her head and moved it to the side in fake shock. “Where oh where did I go wrong?”

Callon hummed as he swallowed down his helping, “Perhaps it was when ye were trying to get Cáleb’s attention as a dwarfling-”

“Shut yer mouth right now,” Nari’s cheeks flushed pink as she tried to glare at him.

“Go on, what did she do then?” Bofur grinned as he asked him.

“She wore a dress and climbed the little windmill so that he would notice her, and decided to show off by flipping off the thing and down onto the ground,” he covered his mouth as he started to snicker already.

“Callon-”

“But her dress blew over her head and she ended up showing everyone in the village her undergarments instead,” he cracked up and her face flushed even deeper as the others also joined in.

“Hey, it’s not as if ye didn’t do anything daft ye know,” she shot back as his face went red from laughing, he wiped the few tears he had and looked at her.

“I’ve done nothing as daft as that though,” he grinned as he continued to eat his meal.

“Oh no,” She agreed, “Ye’ve done much worse,” the corner of her mouth turned as he faced her.

“Name one thing,”

“How about when ye wore Mother’s dress, and pranced about the house pretending to be her then?” she asked, and he played with his food ignoring her gaze.

“I did that once, once, Nari,”

“No, no I definitely found ye doing that on more than one occasion,” she teased, “Ye forget I’ve watched ye since yer birth brother, I’ve a lot more dirt on ye than ye imagine,”

“Well- whatever,” Callon shrugged and continued to eat his meal, and Nari grinned knowing she had beaten him.

The rest of the evening they spent chatting away with their friends, Thorin had been the first to leave as he had to start organising the plans to reconstruct Erebor, Kíli left a while later and it was just the four of them in the dim room. Bofur listened enthusiastically as Nari spoke to him about how the Dwarf Kingdom had been before the dragon-fire and death; and in turn he told her of what it was like to grow up among Men and Dwarves in the Blue Mountains, never knowing the expectations that were held in the Kingdom.

The conversation seemed to flow naturally between the pairs, sometimes there was laughter, other times there was near silence, but it was comfortable nonetheless; the time was passing by without much notice to anyone, as nobody was prepared to leave.

Bofur was struggling to make sure he that he didn’t hold eye contact for too long at a time with her, as he would seemingly become deaf when he lost himself in them, and there were a few times where she had snapped her fingers in front of him to draw his attention back and he had to apologise to her.

It was only when there was a dull chiming of a clock in the distance that Fíli and Bofur realised how late it was, they bid the siblings a good night’s rest and left together in silence. When they were reaching their own sleeping quarters Bofur let the burning question he had slip out.

“Callon and ye seem pretty close, especially after tonight,”

“Well, I, I suppose we might be,” Fíli shrugged, keeping his attention away from the older dwarf.

“It doesn’t matter to me, ye should know,” Bofur assured him, his hands resting behind him as he walked on, “I just couldn’t help but notice the way he was with ye. He seems to take great interest in ye is all,” he shrugged back.

“You think?” he asked hopefully and Bofur nodded with a smile.

“Course, ye’re a good lad,”

“What about you, and Nari?”

“Oh I don’t know about that Fíli,” he looked at the ground and kicked his foot into it, “I don’t believe she’s looking for love at the moment, let alone a dwarf like me,”

“And what’s wrong with a dwarf like you?”

“Well, ye know, I’m just a toy craftsman and a miner, ye don’t see dwarrows breaking down doors for that, do ye?”

“No I suppose not,” he agreed, “But they do love a dwarf who can bring a smile to their face, and who makes them laugh, and has a good heart. And I do believe you bring that to the table tenfold Master Bofur,”

He chuckled, “Thank ye Fíli, ye’re not so bad yerself,” he patted him on the shoulder, “Even if ye haven’t got much of a beard in just yet,”

“Hey,” Fíli detested but still grinned, they reached their rooms and Bofur rocked on his heels.

“I’ll see ye in the morning lad,”

“Yes, good night Bofur,”

“Good night Fíli,”

They parted ways and went to sleep in their beds that night with wide smiles and warm hearts, the both of them anticipating the next day greatly.

Weeks had passed by since the Battle of the Five Armies, and with her brother already declared fit in his health just days after, Nari was growing more irritable by the day as she was still told to rest. The princes visited almost daily along with Bofur to keep the siblings company, keeping up light conversation or sharing stories of their pasts, sometimes staying for hours on end and forgetting they had duties to attend to.

Callon soon enough noticed the way his sister’s face would light up on sight of Kíli, especially the days between when he had not accompanied his brother, his stomach twisted when he saw that it was the same way that Bofur looked at her; and he worried that Nari would unintentionally hurt his feelings.

“Callon?” Fíli repeated his name once more, and the dwarf blinked for a moment and looked at the prince.

“Sorry Fíli, I have a lot on my mind,” he apologised, giving once last frown to his sister, and then returning his attention to the conversation.

He sat crossed-legged on his bed, waiting patiently as the others left with Bofur closing the door behind him, he leaned forward and she raised a brow at him.

“What?”

“I’m trying to think my next words carefully,” he pursed his lips for a moment, twisting his hands together and tapping his index fingers together.

“And why do ye need to do that?” she crossed her legs and tucked her hands into her lap, still raising a brow at him quizzically.

“Because, this is a delicate situation at hand,” He sighed at her, twisting his mouth and then raised a finger, before lowering it.

“Cal, what are ye on about now? Just come out with it,”

“Have ye developed feelings for Kíli?”

“I, well,” she stuttered for a moment, her cheeks flushing pink as she stared down at her hands, “Am I that obvious?”

“To me, yes,”

“What do ye mean to ye, who else thinks this?”

“Nobody, at least not Bofur anyway,”

“What does Bofur have to do with my feelings towards Kíli?”

“I fear he may have interest in ye the way ye have interest in Kíli,”

“Come off it then,” she scoffed, “Bofur and I got trapped together in a cell back in Mirkwood a few weeks back, he asked me a few questions and I answered them, and we’ve just hit it off since then. There’s nothing more to it Callon,”

“I’m serious Nari, I worry that he feels more for ye than ye believe,”

“Even if he did Callon, and I said ‘if’ mind ye, what am I to do? Ask him about it outright?” she fidgeted with her hands irritably, “Then it turns out he was just being friendly and I make our friendship awkward, no, I’d rather not even consider it, thank ye. If he has feelings for me, then he shouldn’t be holding them back,” she threw herself back onto her bed and sighed loudly.

“Well maybe he’s just been too shy to confront his feelings, if I were in his position I’d find ye a bit intimidating if I’m honest,”

“Bofur, being shy? Let’s be a little more realistic brother,” she laughed and dismissed the idea, “And for yer information, I’m notintimidating,”

“That’s not what a lot of the guards say,” he mumbled and she turned her head, raising it a little.

“They really say that about me?” she asked, seeming a little hurt, but then turned away and stared up at the ceiling. “Well, it makes me a better Captain, so it doesn’t matter anyway,”

“I didn’t mean to upset ye sister,” he apologised quietly, “I just… want ye to understand that there may be others who have interest in ye, and to ignore their affections so willingly while pursuing another, it might hurt them more than telling them from the start that ye don’t feel that way.”

“I know what ye meant Callon, thank ye for yer concerns, I’ll keep them in mind.” She gave him a small smile. “Ye’ve always been considerate of others, ye know that? Fíli is an excellent match for ye,” she added thoughtfully, changing the subject as she stared at the ceiling again.

“I think I might tell him soon, I can only hope he feels the same way,”

“I know he will,” Nari reassured him, “But if there’s any chance he doesn’t, I’ll punch him in the gob,” she offered with a cheeky grin.

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” he chuckled and settled onto his bed. “Do ye think ye might tell Kíli?”

“Maybe soon, I don’t know if I should rush into it,”

He nodded, and put his hands behind his head, “The days are beginning to feel shorter to me,”

“That’s because Fíli’s been there to consume most of yer time,” she teased, “Ye don’t notice the hours passing by when ye’re with someone ye love Callon, it’s as though time stands still between ye two while the rest of the world moves about their day,”

“Yes, I suppose ye’re right,” his smile broadened, “I wish to wake up to those stormy eyes every morning, and the way the sun shone on him in the afternoon, he looked like an angel from the heavens…” he sighed dreamily.

“Alright lover boy, save those thoughts for him will ye?” she chuckled.

“Sorry, I just can't stop thinking about him even though he’s only just left,”

“I know how ye feel,” she agreed, “But for now, I’m calling it another day brother, and hopefully Óin will finally take me from bed rest tomorrow,”

“Rest well sister,” he nodded as he got up to leave the room, and then closed the door quietly after him.

The sun had just risen when Óin came in to do his routine check on Nari, he tutted her every time she rolled her eyes and wiggled about in annoyance as he examined the healing wound for some time. He moved back and removed the wrap entirely, though for the first time not replacing it with a new dressing and she looked at him eagerly.

He stood after packing away his things, and turned to her, “Alright, I’m sure you’re anxious to come off bed rest, and I can finally say that I’m satisfied with the condition of your injury,” she scrambled out of bed immediately, stumbling as she slipped on her boots and headed towards the door, “However, I advise that you- take it easy!” he yelled as she darted out the room.

She ran down the passages of Erebor eagerly, and after a few wrong turns had managed to find an exit to the main hall, it was dirtier than she remembered as a dwarfling, but the sight still made her grin widely. She took a few steps to face the throne, and shuddered slightly, recalling King Thrór and his troubles with dragon-sickness, and moved backwards.

“Hey, watch where ye’re going!” a male voice reprimanded, she spun around and raised her hands apologetically, “Oh Nari, it’s ye!” the elf smiled, “Good to see ye finally off bedrest,”

“Yes, thank ye Elrohir, I’ll let ye continue yer work,” she bowed and walked around them as he and his companion pushed along a large wheelbarrow of stone, she found herself looking at the floor and watched as the light reflected and danced on its surface.

Nari slowly inclined her head to see the morning was now in its full glory, she ran towards the entrance, itching to breathe in the air from outside after being cooped up for so long. Along the way she ducked and slid under more of her people carrying things across the way, and those who did not recognise her muttered a few choice curses as they nearly dropped their load; she ignored them and took pride in the fact that she was still nimble under the circumstances.

Dwalin and Balin stood in the centre of the hall, deep in discussion when she rushed between them, she hugged Dwalin who yelped as she squeezed him, before taking Balin’s hand and spinning him around once and laughing gaily. She released him and he wobbled as he tried to regain his posture, she was gone as quickly as she had arrived, and running steadily towards the entrance once more.

She hopped over the broken stones with ease and leaped onto the patchy grasses of the outside, as soon as the sun touched her skin she felt gooseflesh bubble up her arms, and she continued further on still. Once she was satisfied with the distance, she turned to take in the full view of the Kingdom under the Mountain, her hands rested on her hips as she panted.

The stone sculptures of Dwarves from history still stood for the most part, and aside from the front wall being destroyed the image resonated with her; she stared in awe, wondering if any of it was real, and as a test she pinched one of her arms and bit her lip over her mistake and shook her arm out to relieve some of the sting.

Nari closed her eyes, embracing the comfort of the sun that came along with the new season, the winter was slowly creeping away as plants grew once more, and the days were steadily becoming warmer and sunnier from what Callon had described to her. She took in a deep breath, opening her eyes to take it all in again; and then she suddenly yelled out triumphantly and laughed.

Bofur had been out on the rampart to take in the lovely weather, and to avoid smoking inside in case it bothered someone, when he’d heard someone cheering from down below; he leaned over to see who it was and chuckled when he found Nari laughing in front of the gates. He smiled as he took another puff at his pipe, watching her as she seemed to be in awe of the building before her.

She whispered though nobody was around, “We did it Father, we reclaimed our home, for all,” she glanced up at the clear sky, “I hope ye’re proud of us adad, I miss ye so much,” her eyes welled up and she blinked to fight them back, she held her gaze to Erebor.

She closed her hands and ran inside determinedly, searching for her brother among the others, she noted the changes the Eossimarians have slowly been helping with on the grounds and smiled, and a sense of pride coursed through her. Between rooms and corridors she happened upon one of the old weaponries, and walked inside curiously, she found some dusty swords and picked them up.

She carefully blew the dust away and examined the blades, old Khuzdul was inscribed at the edge towards the hilt, she frowned being unfamiliar with the terms and she lowered them to her sides. She swayed her hands to determine if they were of the same weight, and once she was satisfied with her checks she left the room, taking the swords with her.

She felt as though she’d been walking for hours when she finally heard her brother’s voice from around a corner and she smiled to herself, she pressed her back to the wall and waited patiently, holding one sword firmly at face level while the other was held below.

“-We should see if your sister has still been held back for bed rest, I’m sure Óin has visited her by now,” Fíli suggested.

“Hopefully she can get out, I’m sure she wants to see the progress we’ve made so far on the grounds,” Callon agreed.

She took a breath and rounded the corner, taking a purposefully loud step behind them, and Callon quickly turned around in time to catch the sword she had thrown at him, before holding it firmly to block a strike.

“Nari!” he laughed and swatted her sword away, “Ye’re back.” He grinned.

“Of course I’m back, and good thing too, had I been an orc ye’d have been gone for certain,” she smirked, lifting her sword and raising a brow at him.

“Nari, it’s good to see you,” Fíli greeted through his confusion as he looked between the siblings.

“It’s good to see ye as well Fíli,” she semi-bowed her head, keeping an eye on her brother. “So what say ye brother?” she pointed her sword at him and he stepped back a little.

“First to the throne is the winner!” he knocked her sword quickly and she nearly dropped it to the ground, when she stood upright again he had run ahead, and she darted after him, leaving Fíli behind to do as he pleased.

“Hey, that’s not fair! Fíli’s probably been showing ye the grounds!” she called out at him.

She nearly caught up when he turned and she met his strike with a block, moving it away and nearly making it hit into a wall. He moved back and took another swing and she deflected it with ease, he stepped further back and she had to move forward to reach him, and he extended his foot and swiped underneath her. She stumbled and he took the opportunity to move further ahead, she laughed as she righted herself.

“Clever Callon, I’ll get ye for that!” She followed him, frowning when she rounded a corner as she could no longer hear his footsteps against the stone floor, she walked cautiously on with her sword in hand and made sure to check behind her every so often.

“Damn it, I’ve lost him, and now… I’m lost,” she muttered when she seemed to enter the same passageway for the third time in a row, her shoulders dropped and she lowered her sword, letting it rest at her side.

She walked aimlessly, knowing Callon must have already made it to the throne by now and would hopefully find her soon, in the meanwhile she admired the colours of the stone that melded together to somehow become one. She touched the stone, dragging her hand along to feel it brush on her skin, to her surprise it was completely smooth as if someone had pressed it flat.

Her hand slipped through a doorway that she hadn’t noticed before and she decided to wander inside, she took a quick scope of the room and realised it must have been where all the instruments were stored, a layer of cobwebs and dust now covered them and she went further into the room.

Nari put her sword down and replaced it with a lute, being careful not to let the strings catch on anything she raised it up to eye level, after another quick look around she found a cloth and took her time in cleaning the instrument off carefully.

She tweaked the tuning pegs for a while, pulling at some of the strings as she went along to see if she could get the pitch somewhat correct, and once she was satisfied she took a seat on a chair and set the lute on her lap carefully.

She started plucking at the strings absentmindedly, letting her fingers get used to the burn of the strings on the soft skin, before realising that she was actually playing a song very familiar to her.

“Anything I know?” Callon’s voice disturbed her, her eyes blinking for a moment as he smiled at her, before shaking her head at him.

“Probably not brother, adad sang it to amad when they wedded… Lúthrien was only a few months old,” she smiled, “I thought I’d learn it for someone special someday,”

“I see,” he nodded, and took a seat near to her, “And uh, not that it matters but I’m the King now,” he grinned wickedly and she rolled her eyes.

“Ye cheated and ye know it,” she stuck out her tongue and ignored him, instead plucking at the strings again and enjoying the good memories that came back to her.

“You look so wonderful in your dress; I love your hair like that, the way it falls on the side of your neck, down your shoulders and back. We are surrounded by all of these lies, and people that talk too much, you got that kind of look in your eyes, as if no one knows anything but us…”

“Should this be the last thing I see, I want you to know it's enough for me, ‘cause all that you are is all that I'll ever need… I'm so in love, so in love, so in love, so in love…You look so beautiful in this light, your silhouette over me. The way it brings out the blue in your eyes, is the Tenerife sea.”

Her eyes closed as she recalled her father’s loving gaze at her mother, and how big her smile had been that day, and the words felt more meaningful to her in the moment. And unbeknownst to her, her voice had travelled through the halls and a small crowd of curious people gathered around the doorway.

Only a few looked into the room while others whispered and explained what was happening, among them were her uncles Balin and Dwalin, along with the princes and Bofur, all of whom were mesmerised by her secret talents.

“And all of the voices surrounding us here, they just fade out when you take a breath, just say the word and I will disappear, into the wilderness. Should this be the last thing I see, I want you to know it's enough for me, ‘cause all that you are is all that I'll ever need. I'm so in love, so in love, so in love, so in love…”

“{Lumiere}, darling, {Lumiere} over me… {Lumiere}, darling, {Lumiere} over me…” Her voice went higher as she sang out, “{Lumiere},darling, {Lumiere} over me…”

“Should this be the last thing I see, I want you to know it's enough for me, ‘cause all that you are is all that I'll ever need…” her strumming slowed down to silence, and when she looked up her face reddened when she saw her audience watching her, she cleared her throat.

“No, no don’t let us bother ye lass,” Bofur winked and they all chuckled.

She stood up and cleared her throat, waving her hand, “Go on the lot of ye, nothing to see here,” she spoke to her fellow villagers, and they laughed and moved away, heading back to their tasks they had been doing.

“Ye’ve a lovely singing voice,” he complimented, as she walked out of the room with her brother behind her.

“I agree,” Kíli nodded, “Though I’m surprised to hear how delicate it is,”

“I’m a dwarrow of many talents Prince Kíli, and I’ll be sure to best ye with the bow and arrow any time ye’d like,” she countered, giving him a smile.

“I’ll take you up on that,” he accepted, “But I must warn you I’ve trained for years,”

“Oh I don’t doubt that,”

“That was a beautiful song Nari,” Balin spoke up, and she turned to him, “Where did you learn it?”

“Oh, well my Father sang it my Mother when they married, he wrote it himself,”

“Ah Kalin,” Dwalin sighed, “That little runt used to practice into the late hours in his youth, kept us up for a lot of nights, right Balin?”

“Oh yes I remember very well brother, he was convinced that he’d win a lady’s heart if he could serenade her, a strange dwarf he was,”

“The fool,” Dwalin chuckled.

“It worked though,” Callon said in amusement, “A Dwarf guard, winning the heart of a royal Elf-maid no less, through the mysterious and enchanting influence of music and dance,”

“That’s right lad,” Dwalin patted him hard on the shoulder, “You bear much resemblance to your father, you know that?”

“Nari has told me countless times, but I hardly remember what he looks like,” he looked down for a moment.

“I believe we still have portraits of him somewhere…” Balin smiled, “Why don’t we go through them together?” he looked at him and Nari and their eyes lit up as they nodded in agreement. “Alright then, let’s get going,” he led the way, his brother fell in next to him, with Callon, Fíli and Kíli walking just after them, leaving Nari and Bofur to fall in behind.

Nari frowned as the princes whispered furiously between each other, with mention of her name somewhere along the way, and it ended abruptly when the dark-haired prince shoved his brother irritably.

“Stop being so childish, Fee, this isn’t a joke,” he hissed.

“Oi, what’s going on there?” Dwalin’s grumpiness returned quickly as he heard their bickering; only turning his head slightly over his shoulder.

“Nothing Dwalin,” Fíli answered, and the older dwarf grunted.

“That’s what I thought,”

She glanced over to Bofur who only shrugged, looking just as confused as she was, her brows furrowed and she wondered what they could be talking about her for. Boys. She rolled her eyes.

____________________________________________________________

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kingbuckley · 5 years ago

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This is going to be very disjointed and probably incoherent but I want to talk about my experiences re: bisexuality and lesbianism, because there’s a lot of rhetoric in both communities that keeps people from realising they’re gay, and it kept me from understanding myself for a long time.

First and foremost: having a preference for one gender. Yes, there are bi people who have a preference for a gender, I’m not trying to negate their experiences. But i spent years saying “I’m bi but I only like girls” or “I’m bi but I don’t like men”, because there’s this thing abt bi/pan being more inclusive than lesbianism, which isn’t true. Lesbianism includes trans women, and includes nonbinary people. They’re not extra, they’re included, and I think a lot of people in the bi community don’t necessarily believe that so they identify as bi because they think having a preference for their same gender is wrong/isn’t inclusive enough. Idk if this makes sense.

Another thing that bugs me is people who say bisexuality isn’t a stepping stone. For some people it’s not, but for a lot of people, especially lesbians, it is. Because women specifically are trained from birth that wanting attention from men is inherent and our purpose in life. So much so that we often have to unlearn our “attraction” to men, because it’s hollow and performative, and often we don’t understand that our attraction to women can feel different than how we are told our attraction to men will feel.

When I was thirteen, I had a “crush” on a guy in my class. I use air quotes because at the time, describing how I felt about him was impossible. I wanted his attention, I wanted him to like me, and think I was pretty, but I never once actually thought about doing anything sexual with him.

At the same time, I had a crush on a girl in my french class. This was before I knew I liked girls, and in hindsight I’m 🤦🏻‍♀️ about it, but it was exactly the opposite of how I felt about this guy. Her name was Riley, and she had long hair that she wore layered, and I spent a lot of time wondering how soft it would feel if I touched it. Her eyes were big and blue, and I often found myself watching the curve of her mouth when she talked or laughed. If she complimented me I would be flying the rest of the day. I desperately wanted to be her friend, and I showed off for her at every opportunity. One day she didn’t come to school because she was sick, and I can still see in my mind’s eye the fantasy I had of taking care of her and lying next to her in bed. I thought about having sex with her all the time.

Even when I ided as bi, I would explain the difference in my attraction to men and women like this, as though wanting someone’s attention was the same as wanting to be with them. As though it wasn’t a trained reaction. It was rly only a few months ago that I thought “wow I rly don’t want to have sex w men” and realised that maybe, the constant separation of my attractions was because one attraction was learned and another was innate.

Anyways idk how to end this post cause it probably makes no sense but I’ve been thinking abt this a lot so I just wanted to put this out there.

#ok to rb #personal #bi people ARE valid and real but can we stop acting like people who use bi as a stepping stone are doing something wrong #long post

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penny-anna · 5 years ago

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@abluescarfonwaston as I said I got like 4 stars for this meme and no specific requests, so I’m just going to talk at length about the fic I have the most to say about, which is sandstorms and hazy dawns

hooray!!

She comes to him in the night, breath hot against his ear, and says, “can we keep them?”

This opening scene takes place between the 2nd and 3rd scenes of the story... this is probably needlessly confusing as the rest of the story is in chronological order but, this is where I wanted to start & I can do what I want.

“No,” he says.

He feels her weight shift as she lies down beside him. “Why not?”

“You know why.”

She noses at his neck, at the side of his head, nuzzling him. He feels the beginnings of a purr down in her chest, feels it in her and inside himself. “I like them.”

He touches her head, burying his fingers in her coarse fur the way he hasn’t for years. It’s been a long time, since they were as close as this. When they are together she sleeps an arm’s length from him. For days at a time they’re apart. He knows her only as a flash of white on the edge of his vision, a scent in the air. She wanders for miles, for weeks, following her own path, and he sees her not at all.

so let’s talk about the break up!!

Geralt & Dag used to have a more ‘normal’ person + separated daemon relationship (like most witchers), in which they would only split up for long periods out of practical necessity. they broke up for several years following events in blaviken. here is my extremely rough rendering of how that went

geralt: why you let this happen. you’re supposed to be my conscience :(

dag: umm how is this my fault? you asshole?

geralt: fuck off

dag: fine i will!! *fucks off*

geralt: wait no i didnt mean it :(

i have no intention of ever writing this scene as i don’t think i could do it justice. in my head he also throws a rock at her tho. bcos he’s an angry boy & an asshole.

however!! the strain in their relationship would not have started there. when i was writing this fic i was imagining that the fact of being separated would in itself put a strain on any person/daemon relationship, which i felt was implied by the HDM books. & then since writing it I read The Secret Commonwealth which more or less confirms that separating does just cause people’s relationships with their daemons to break down sometimes.

I think I said this in another post but, I imagine that the newly acquired ability to have separate experiences would make them more and more able to seriously disagree on things. and physically separating for long periods (even if only for practical reasons) would force them to get better at functioning alone which could in turn make them more and more emotionally distant from each other.

He scratches at the join of her neck and jaw, and that purr grows, long and deep and contented. She lays her head down beside his, and he holds her. He’s aware of her tail flicking, restless. She’ll be awake a while yet and so will she. They always sleep and wake at the same times, no matter how many miles separate them.

Geralt loves her, his lion, his dæmon. He loves her with every fibre of his being. He loves her strength, her grace. He loves that she can take any shape she pleases, be a bird or a fish or a snake when the moment calls for it. He loves the distance she can walk from him. He would not have her any other way. He cannot imagine her any other way.

i was always going to have witchers w separating daemons for this fic. however i got talked into the idea of witchers w mutable daemons by someone in a witcher discord I’m in... whoever you are I have forgotten your tumblr so can’t credit you for your idea properly sorry!!

i was originally reluctant bcos it seemed to me that mutable daemons implied innocence & youthfulness, which is kind of at odds with how witchers seem to be perceived. however following the above discord conversation i realised it can also imply 1) that witchers don’t really have ‘fixed’ personalities, which ties in with their supposedly not having feelings; 2) ‘innocence’ but in a negative way, in the sense of immaturity & not having a properly developed mind and sense of morality.

obviously none of the above is actually true and witcher daemons are just shapeshifting adult daemons but, that is how people perceive it.

additionally, given how superpowered witchers are it seemed to fit that they would have found a way around all the weaknesses that having a daemon bring.

He knows that she loves him too. He understand why sometimes she despises him. He has cursed her, with his words and his thoughts, and she hates him for it. She has left him alone, and he hates her for it.

They say witchers feel nothing and they are not wrong. It doesn’t pain him when they are apart. He hasn’t felt that pain since he was a child. He barely remembers what it feels like.

She stops purring. Her breath puffs against his skin. “Stop thinking so hard,” she says. “Go to sleep.” Her tail has stopped twitching. “Go to sleep.”

“I think you and I might have got off on the wrong foot – as they say.”

this scene is supposed to take place offscreen shortly following the gutpunch haha

“White hair – no visible dæmon – two very – very scary looking swords – I know who you are.”

I don’t like when daemon fics recap entire scenes w the addition of daemons but I wanted to get this 1 change in so. here it is in a brief flashback. i elected to take out ‘big old loner’ bcos 1) listing 3 things is neater 2) I felt that not having a visible daemon would be a more notable characteristic for jaskier to point out.

not having a visible daemon is not necessarily a ‘tell’ that someone is a witcher or part of another demographic that can separate as people’s daemons are just out of sight sometimes.

It had surprised him, the ease with which that word visible had tripped off the bard’s tongue; that unhesitating acknowledgement that just because he couldn’t see something did not mean it didn’t exist.

He says, “hm.”

“Aren’t you going to ask my name?”

“No,” he says.”

“You can call me Jaskier,” says the bard. With a jerk of his shoulder he indicates the songbird-dæmon perched atop his lute. “This is Tansy.” The dæmon peeps a greeting. Receiving no response the bard goes on, “she’s a nightingale which I think is very sexy of her. You know,” he adds. “Because I’m a singer. And she’s a – a songbird.”

i realised while i was writing this that jaskier never actually introduces himself on screen. which seems like an oversight on the part of the writers tbh. means we can do what we want tho.

as i said in the a/n on the fic itself, I got the idea of giving Jaskier a nightingale daemon from two halves of a whole. usually I try and avoid just straight up copying other people’s form ideas but i just. fell in love with nightingale.

other forms I’ve seen for jaskier seem to tend VERY strongly towards birds which I find interesting! i’ve think I’ve seen maybe 1 daemon fic where he doesn’t have a bird daemon.

moving on to the name! this is tansy:

I do intend to get into this in potential future installments of the series, but Tansy is not her birth name (none of the main daemons in this AU use their birth names, completely independently of each other). she started going by Tansy relatively young and when he later changed his to match.

I think Jaskier settled relatively young - maybe 2 years before the time this fic is set - and being the overdramatic little punk he is hasn’t quite got over the ‘have i mentioned how cool my daemon’s settled form is today’ phase yet.

& finally before moving on, p much the first thing we learn about Jaskier & Tansy is that he is very happy and at ease with her and the form that she takes. this is important.

He grunts an acknowledgement – if only to get the bard to stop explaining.

“You’re not the best conversationalist, are you?”

A sudden tension, inside his chest. She’s close. He looks up and there she is, slipping into view on the clifftop.

“It’s just usually when you have a conversation you take it in turns to speak,” says the bard. “Rather than one person doing all the – oh.”

Dag makes her way down the ragged cliff, leaping from perch to perch in languid motions till her white paws touch the earth and she’s beside him. Stooping Geralt runs his hand over her head in greeting. Her eyes narrow.

this is another thing I have mentioned Elsewhere but i did fall in love w geralt’s daemon’s name in two halves of a whole (linked above) and went looking for something which had a similar feel to it. sorry.

i’m aware that Dag is technically a man’s name but given the kind of, inherent gender-bending nature of opposite sex daemons it seemed appropriate.

i confess i was also thinking of the dag in fury road.

seen a lot more variety in daemon forms for Geralt than jaskier! most common choices seem to be 1) wolf and 2) roach is his daemon. I’m really not into ‘existing animal companion as daemon’ bcos I’m firmly in the camp of ‘daemons as a manifestation of a person’s inner voice’ rather than ‘daemons as Companions’ so I can’t get behind daemon!roach (I actually find it actively offputting gfdlkjfskdh)

wolf is a p good fit imo but I find it a bit on the nose and I wanted to do something different. so. he is a giant kitty cat. & as someone (I forget who sorry) correctly identified she is leucistic rather than albino.

white mountain lions do exist but best as i can tell there’s like 1 photo on the entire internet. bummer.

He’s aware of the restlessly silent presence of the bard behind them shifting his weight, his dæmon fluttering about his head, aware perhaps that he’s intruding on something intimate.

Geralt straightens, and the bard takes that as his cue to begin again. He clears his throat and says, “what can I call her?”

It’s been a long time, since anyone has asked for her name so brazenly; in fact he isn’t sure anyone ever has. Geralt shoots the bard a look.

“Well, you must call her something,” he says, unintimidated.

“I do,” says Geralt. “You don’t.”

The nightingale-dæmon, now resting upon her bard’s shoulder, is eying Dag curiously, but she’s cautious enough not to approach.

one thing I’ve noticed when re-reading HDM is that characters very rarely refer to other people’s daemons by names, even when they know them. generally i’ve loosely kept to this in my own daemon AUs bcos 1) i find that when fics us each daemon’s name every time i get a bit lost as to whose daemon is whose and 2) I like the idea that using someone else’s daemon name is a very hm. intimate thing. hence geralt is reluctant to call tansy by her name, even though he knows it.

“Right,” says the bard. “Well, then.”

Come morning, Dag is gone, but not gone far. Out of sight, but not so far away he can’t feel her. She’ll come back when it pleases her.

He readies Roach for the path ahead, half-listening to the lilt of conversation that carries from the bushes; Jaskier’s voice, and the pretty voice of his dæmon.

The bard stumbles out into view, tousled and bleary from a night on the ground. “G’morning.” He ambles over to join Geralt.

i genuinely wanted to specify here that jaskier was having a piss in the bushes but i couldn’t find a way to get it in that didn’t seem kind of tasteless. that is what is happening here tho.

“What will it take to get rid of you?” says Geralt.

“My, someone woke up on the wrong side of the – ground,” says Jaskier. “More than yesterday. Where are we off to next?” He puts his hand on Roach’s saddle. Geralt swats it away.

“I’m going north,” he says. “You go wherever you want.”

“Maybe I want to go with you,” says Jaskier. In a flutter of wings his dæmon comes to rest on the pommel of Roach’s saddle, and he can’t shoo her away. He wouldn’t dare put his hands near her.

They say of witchers that they have no souls. They say their dæmons are something else, something monstrous. They say they have no respect for the great taboo. When they see him mothers’ dæmons snatch their children away.

“You don’t,” says Geralt.

“You sound awfully sure,” says Jaskier.

You don’t know what you’re asking for, Geralt wants to say. He doesn’t know how to say it in a way the bard would understand. He glowers at the nightingale-dæmon until she takes the hint and flies back to Jaskier’s shoulder.

He feels Dag before he hears her, the padding of her feet on the ground as she emerges from the bushes, the soft sound of her breathing.

Jaskier nudges him. “You don’t fool me,” he says. “You’re a big pussycat really. Don’t think I didn’t hear her purring all last night.”

did u know that mountain lions are the largest cat than can purr! here is a video of one purring. it’s very cute but also a little scary.

“You’re imagining things,” says Geralt.

“I absolutely am not,” says Jaskier. “She was practically shaking the ground.”

At that Dag actually laughs, a short and bubbling laugh of real amusement. Geralt shoots her a look. Jaskier is looking at her too, looking at her curiously, startled by this, the first human sound he’s heard her make.

Looking away from them Dag stretches out on the ground, lounging as if she has nowhere to be. Jaskier tears his eyes away from her and says, “is she always a lion? It’s just –” His dæmon pecks him hard on the neck. “Ow – it’s just I heard witchers’ dæmons don’t settle.”

He fastens the straps on Roach’s saddle bag, and his hands still. “They aren’t unsettled,” he says. “They’re mutable.”

“I don’t follow,” says Jaskier.

“They settle,” he says. “But they keep the ability to change, after settling.”

“Ah, I see,” says Jaskier, nodding. “But is she –” His dæmon fastens her beak around his ear lobe and tugs. “Ow – ow – alright – there’s no need to be like that,” he mutters to her.

“I’m leaving,” Geralt says. “As I said. Go where you please.”

The bard and his dæmon follow him north.

Chimney smoke rises down in the valley. He doesn’t know the name of the town.

Dag is waiting for him, draped in the branches of a tree. She’s been scouting ahead, or perhaps she’s restless, or perhaps both.

She yawns, showing off her teeth. “Did you lose them?”

“You know I didn’t,” says Geralt. He can hear Jaskier’s voice behind them in the woods, and so can she.

Her tail swishes. “Why not?” she says, and he knows at once what she means.

bouncing off what I was saying above re ‘manifestation of a person’s inner voice’. I like taking opportunities to show that a person & their daemon are 2 halves of the same mind.

“You know why,” he says.

“Tell me.”

And she says it in that particular tone, a tone with steel in it, and he has to answer. “He’s soft,” he says. “He’s young. What he’s asking for will break him. He doesn’t understand.”

“Hm,” she says.

“It’s best he realises sooner,” he says.

“You don’t know how soft he is,” she says. “You don’t know him at all.”

“You’ve seen her,” he says. “That’s what he is.”

Tansy is delicate – pretty – fragile. She weighs almost nothing. She comes close by him as few dæmons will and every time he tenses for fear that he might touch her, without meaning to – hurt her – break her.

u know that post about the person whose boyfriend was afraid of holding babies in case he didn’t know his own strength and accidentally hurt them? thats geralt.

Dag’s tail is moving in the air, no longer swishing, flicking in sharp, angry jerks. “We both know that’s not how it works.”

He knows what she’s thinking. It hangs between them, unspoken. Another little bird dæmon they had once known, a pretty, charming robin-dæmon who had melted away like smoke before his eyes.

I’ve only seen 1 daemon fic featuring renfri (and I don’t think it was strictly a conventional daemon au) and it gave her a shrike daemon, which i do think is fitting. however as w wolf for geralt I find it a bit on the nose.

additionally, giving renfri a daemon has the potential to kind of, shift things wrt the ambiguity of her character, so you have a choice to make wrt whether you want to shift it more towards ‘she’s outwardly scary’ or ‘she’s outwardly innocent’ and I went for ‘outwardly innocent’, in part so I could do this specific parallel but also bcos I just preferred that vibe.

i went for european robin bcos it’s a very nice match for renfri’s aesthetic, and 1) I’m a slut for aesthetics and 2) helps to make sure readers will know who this is about.

He might say don’t. Don’t make me think of it. But he doesn’t. This thing has been unspoken between them for so many years. He doesn’t know what will happen if he breaks the silence.

They’ve been on the road for five – almost six weeks. He’s growing used to the chatter and the birdsong. Jaskier hasn’t complained – hasn’t complained much – hasn’t complained as much as he’d expected, not even when his feet bled in his fancy shoes. He’s generous enough to share the coin he gets from playing. Geralt’s had worse travelling companions.

Jaskier blunders out of the trees. “There you are,” he says. “Trying to shake us?”

“Yes,” says Geralt.

Jaskier snorts, as if that’s a joke. He looks out over the valley, the distant strings of smoke hazy in the twilight. “Do you think they have an inn?”

“I don’t care,” says Geralt.

“I want to sleep in a real bed,” says Jaskier. “And I want a bath.”

“I’m not stopping you,” says Geralt.

“It’s going to be freezing tonight,” says Jaskier.

“I’m used to it,” says Geralt.

Jaskier nudges him. “C’mon,” he says. “You could use a bath yourself. I don’t like to say so, but you are a very – unusual smelling person.”

“You’ve said so several times,” says Geralt.

“Have I?” says Jaskier innocently.

“Yes,” says his dæmon.

“So I have,” he says.

“Go and find an inn if you want,” says Geralt. “I’m not stopping you.”

“Stop being ridiculous,” says Jaskier.

“I’m being ridiculous?” says Geralt.

“Yes,” says Jaskier. “Alright, how about this. I’ll buy you a drink.”

“I can buy my own drinks,” says Geralt.

“But I’m offering,” says Jaskier. “A kind and magnanimous offer, out of the goodness of my heart. And also I think it’s going to rain and I want to get in doors, so stop being ridiculous.”

“Hm,” says Geralt.

They go to the inn. It’s begun to rain by the time they reach the town. Tansy hides herself away within Jaskier’s cloak. Dag doesn’t follow them down the valley, preferring to find a dry spot in the woods, preferring to avoid prying eyes.

The inn is crowded with people sheltering from the rain; two more strangers with hidden dæmons don’t get a second look. The rafters are lined with bird-dæmons, safely away from the crowd. Sitting alone in his corner he watches their movements, the beating of their wings. There was a time Dag might have changed her shape and joined them. A space like this is never comfortable for a large dæmon.

reading back over this story I think it’s hm easy to think of Dag as the Emotionally Mature one of them but she’s the one whose making a choice to like... hide from Regular People and has been doing it habitually for a long time, either by changing her form or just leaving him alone.

Geralt & his daemon do this for a number of reasons I think, in part for practical reasons, but also because he doesn’t want people go be able to get a fix on what kind of person that he is, and on some level wants people to see him and be immediately repulsed by his not having a daemon... this is a self-destructive behaviour that Dag is an active participant in. stop it Dag you’re supposed to be the smart one.

There’s a bard playing, raising his voice to be heard over the crowd. He doesn’t sing as nicely as Jaskier. He’s made a poor choice of song, too, a quiet ballad, one of many about the beauty of the touch.

“Her hand upon my dæmon, the first in my life – it was like roses in the summer and I knew then she’d be my wife –”

1) i hate writing rhyming poetry and i am very bad at it. got away with it this time i hope bcos this is supposed to be kind of trite.

2) this is is what we call Planting. lol.

Jaskier pushes his way through the press back to their table. “As promised,” he says, sliding Geralt a mug of ale. Geralt grunts a thank you.

Jaskier sits, and regards him. Tansy flutters down to perch on the rim of his mug, dipping in her beak. Absently Jaskier strokes her downy back and Geralt tracks the tiny, intimate motion with his eyes. “Is this it, then?” says Jaskier.

one thing I was trying to convey throughout this fic is that spending time with Jaskier & Tansy is the first time Geralt has been around someone who has a Normal relationship with their daemon (as opposed to the ‘it’s complicated’ that geralt & dag have) for a long time and he’s very aware of the contrast.

“Is this what?” says Geralt.

“Is this how it goes?” says Jaskier. “It’s just that I can’t help but notice there hasn’t been a lot of witchering.”

“That’s not a word,” says Geralt, and takes a draft of ale.

“What?” says Jaskier. “Witchering?” Geralt grunts. “Maybe I’ll put it in a song and get people saying it.”

“Don’t you dare,” says Geralt, and Jaskier laughs a little.

“Really, though,” he says. “Is this it?”

“How many monsters do you think there are in the world?” says Geralt.

“How should I know?” says Jaskier. Still perched on his mug Tansy whistles along with the ballad. A moment later Jaskier’s fingers begin to tap along. “What d’you do when you can’t get any work?”

“I make do,” says Geralt.

“Hmm,” says Jaskier. Sensing he isn’t going to get any meaningful answers – or perhaps just bored – his gaze wanders to the bard. For a few moments he listens quietly. “Have you ever done it?”

“What?” says Geralt.

“You know.” Jaskier ducks his head in the direction of the bard.

“Been a bard?” says Geralt.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” says Jaskier, mock-stern.

“No,” says Geralt. “Not like that.”

He’s had another’s hands on his dæmon, more than once. He and Dag have sworn to themselves: never again.

“Hm,” says Jaskier. “No. Me neither.” Again he strokes Tansy, perhaps imagining it.

Tansy is still whistling along with the bard, giving the final notes of the ballad a few extra flourishes, and Geralt catches himself thinking that she and Jaskier would sing it better.

“I’ll be having the bath first – if you don’t mind,” says Jaskier.

“Hm,” says Geralt.

“Though don’t think I’m going to let you get away without bathing,” says Jaskier. “I know what you’re like, and, and your aroma is really starting to bother me.”

“Hm!” pipes up Tansy in agreement.

“Find someone else to annoy, then,” says Geralt. He sits on the edge of the bed, still in his armour. Jaskier is meandering about the washstand, unfastening his doublet, restless as ever.

He tosses his doublet onto the bed, and looks Geralt up and down. “You’re not planning on sleeping in that, are you?”

“Maybe,” says Geralt.

“What, do you think the inn’s going to get attacked in the night by – werewolves, or something?” says Jaskier.

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” says Geralt.

“I can never tell when you’re joking,” says Jaskier, and unlacing his undershirt as he goes he wanders behind the screen.

“I don’t joke,” says Geralt.

“See?” Jaskier’s undershirt drapes over the top of the screen. Tansy, perched beside it, tugs at it with her beak, neatening it up. “There you go again.”

one of the biggest (& most underrated imo) challenges when writing a daemon au is characterising daemons... they’ve got to be like, recognisably the same person as the character, but at the same time ideally their own entity with their own personality. i found Dag came quite naturally, probably bcos Geralt is a character who definitely hides a lot of aspects of his personality, but Tansy was harder.

i imagined Tansy being very quiet with people who aren’t Jaskier & also very much the ‘put your clothes away don’t leave them all over the floor’ type of daemon.

Alone – or what passes for alone – Geralt begins to divest himself of his armour.

Jaskier’s trousers appear atop the screen. A moment later there’s a gentle splashing of water. A sigh.

geralt is definitely not thinking about the fact that jaskier is undressing. nope. he is not thinking about the fact that jaskier is naked in the same room as him. this is of no interest to him at all. He Does Not Care.

“This soap smells like pig fat,” he remarks.

“That’s because it’s made of pig fat,” says Geralt.

“Well. Yes,” says Jaskier.

Tansy is looking at him curiously from atop the screen. Caught staring, she opens her wings and drops out of sight to join Jaskier.

“Does Dag not come indoors?” says Jaskier.

“Now and then,” Geralt answers, before he has fully processed what Jaskier said. His hands still on his armour. “When did she tell you her name?”

this is something I do intend to cover in a future fic but I also don’t intend for it to be especially dramatic

“A few weeks ago,” says Jaskier. “I didn’t think much of it. Why? Do you mind?”

“Yes,” says Geralt.

Behind the screen water splashes. “Why on earth would you mind?” says Jaskier. Geralt doesn’t answer. “Well – I suppose that’s another one for the list of things I’ll never understand about you – like your sense of humour, and why you spend hours talking to your horse when you’ve a perfectly good dæmon.”

an extra dimension of geralt talking to his horse in this au is that he is used to having his daemon there.

Rising, Geralt begins setting his armour on the chair. “She isn’t always there,” he says.

“Well, yes, but it’s not as if she goes very far,” says Jaskier.

“Sometimes she does,” says Geralt.

In a sudden fluttering of wings, Tansy reappears atop the screen.

“How far does she go?” says Jaskier.

“As far as she pleases,” says Geralt.

A gentle sloshing of water. Tansy turns on her perch, peering down at her bard, something wordless passing between them. “Does it,” says Jaskier. “I mean, do you – I don’t know how to ask.”

“Spit it out,” says Geralt.

“Can you still feel her?”

“Yes.”

“Does it still hurt?”

“No.”

so this scene is (obvs) a kind of a call back to That One Bath Scene in canon. this is the first time they’ve been hm ‘domestic’ together and it’s a little awkward, especially for geralt, who is not used to it. all of which is in contrast with how comfortable they are around each other later.

& this is the most frank (probably) conversation they have over the course of the entire fic and it happens when they are physically screened from each other. and also jaskier is literally naked while geralt is opening up to him. this is all very notable for obvious reasons I hope.

“I see,” says Jaskier, though Geralt doubts he does. It’s difficult for humans to get their heads around the way he and Dag experience the world. Most aren’t interested in trying.

geralt here actively ignoring the fact that jaskier is making an effort to understand

He hears the water moving, and the padding of Jaskier’s bare feet on the floorboards. His clothes are whisked back down from the screen and half a minute later he emerges, his hair towel-damp. “All yours,” he says.

Geralt sits in the still-warm water, and soaks, and listens as Jaskier putters about on the other side of the screen, getting ready to sleep, listens to the steady back and forth of his conversation with Tansy. He hums, and she whistles along.

uh so if you’re an introvert I imagine you’ve probably had the experience of being Alone and Unobserved for the first time in an uncomfortably long time... i have this experience every day when i leave work fjgksfkgjfg

tansy & jaskier talk p much non-stop when they’re (semi)alone

When at last, the water cold, he ventures out from behind the screen, Jaskier is on the bed, scribbling something down in his little book.

“You can have the bed,” says Geralt. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Jaskier shifts over towards the wall. “We’ll both fit. I don’t mind if you don’t.” He glances up from his writing. “Though just to warn you, I’m reliably informed that I kick.”

“He does,” says Tansy from the headboard.

The room smells like candle smoke, and pig fat. The scent of the outdoors still clings to them to their clothes, to Jaskier’s hair. He sleeps facing the wall, the warmth of his body pressed to Geralt’s side. Tansy sleeps with her head tucked beneath her wing. Geralt lies awake, listening to Jaskier’s breathing.

geralt is not affected by this situation at all. he is not even a little bit uncomfortably attracted. nope. nuh-uh.

they don’t ever share a bed in the show but i gather it’s a normal thing to do in the books so for the purposes of this fic, this is a thing that it later becomes normal for them to do.

He mumbles now and then in his sleep. And true to his word, he does kick.

Morning comes grey, but dry. They eat breakfast in the tavern. Jaskier chatters, about the weather, the food, the song he was writing in the evening. Geralt tunes him out, and lets his eyes roam over the other patrons. His gaze falls on a pair of old men smoking long pipes. They’re looking at him, at the absence beside him, the empty space he occupies. Caught staring they look away.

Jaskier pokes his arm. “Are you listening to me?” he says.

“Hm?” says Geralt.

“I said you’re even more sullen than usual this morning,” says Jaskier. “What’s got into you? Trouble sleeping?”

Geralt turns his attention to his porridge. “You kick.”

“I’m aware,” says Jaskier. “I did warn you. Well, I dare say –”

A woman is approaching their table, purposefully, stoically. Geralt recognises her attitude. Jaskier is savvy enough to guess.

“You’re the witcher?” she says, as if it’s a question. Her dæmon, a large, horned beetle, clings silently to her sleeve.

always hard w daemon AUs to strike a balance between making it clear to the audience that everyone in this world has a daemon & including superfluous information about daemons who aren’t relevant to the story. originally didn’t include this woman’s but then decided I didn’t have enough background daemons.

this is something i actually paid a lot of attention to while reading the secret commonwealth bcos i wanted to see how pullman handles it.

additionally I think insect daemons are under-represented in daemon au fic so I have been trying to get in as many as I can.

“Well, he’s a witcher,” says Jaskier. Geralt nudges him to be quiet.

She says, “my sister has a job for you.”

The wind is picking up. The day is getting thin. Ahead, on the hilltop, the dark outline of a hay barn, stark and flat against the grey sky.

He dismounts, and ties Roach to a tree.

“Is Dag not joining us?” says Jaskier.

“She comes and goes as she pleases,” says Geralt.

“What, did you two have an argument or something?” says Jaskier. Geralt grunts. “Did you? About what?”

“You,” says Geralt truthfully, and Jaskier laughs as if he’s made a joke.

Dag is in the air somewhere above them. Irritated with him as she may be, she hasn’t gone far, this time. She’s watching the valley, her keen hawk’s eyes searching for any untoward movement.

He starts to climb the hill. Jaskier makes to follow. Turning Geralt holds up a hand, halting him in his tracks. “Stay with Roach.”

Jaskier adjusts the strap of his lute. “I can handle it.”

“This won’t be pleasant,” says Geralt.

“Honestly,” says Jaskier. “How do you expect me to write about all this if you never let me see anything?”

“I don’t,” says Geralt.

“Anyone would think you didn’t want me to immortalise your deeds in song,” says Jaskier.

“I don’t,” says Geralt.

“It’s stifling to my creativity, not to mention rude,” says Jaskier. “And wholly unjustified. I have a strong stomach.”

Wavering, Geralt glances at Tansy, on Jaskier’s shoulder. She hms in agreement. He drops his hand. “If you’re sure.”

In the doorway of the hay barn Jaskier turns his face away and retches. “Oh gods,” he moans. “Oh heavens. Fuck me –”

“Go and wait with Roach if you want,” says Geralt.

One hand braced against the door frame, the other over his mouth, Jaskier looks at him. He takes his head from his mouth. He shakes his head. Tansy flutters in the doorway, from the shadow to the light, and resolves. She flies into the barn, up, up to the rafters, and there looks down upon the bodies.

This is where they have brought their dead, this most remote outpost of their village, with the spiders and the rats and the dust. They brought the bodies here, a dozen or more of them, and piled them up, meaning to burn them, meaning to burn this lonely place to the ground.

They’re unmarked. The air is thick with the smell of death. The most recent lies near the door, her eyes open, staring up at the roof. She’s young. Her hair is fair. She’s dressed in an apron, as if she’d just stepped out of her kitchen – to the water pump, perhaps – when she was attacked.

One death such as this, two, they’d bury. This many, in as many days, they know what haunts them, and they fear it like nothing else.

“What killed them?” says Tansy from the rafters.

“Hm,” says Geralt. He crouches to look at the dead girl, to be sure there are no marks on her, as the village healer had said. Taking off his gloves, he touches her face, tilting her head towards the light.

why does geralt take off his gloves. bcos later i had a scene where he’s washing his hands and then it was pointed out to me that he normally wears clothes and so wouldn’t need to. shush.

It isn’t his place to interfere with how these people treat their dead; but this isn’t right. There’s nothing to fear here. They are only dead. The danger, the thing that killed them, has passed. There’s nothing to be gained in consigning their dead to this bleak, anonymous fate.

A scuffling, above. Tansy moving on the rafter.

“Geralt?” says Jaskier. “What killed them?”

“Shh.”

Geralt glances up, at Tansy. She’s perched quivering on the rafter. “What is it?” he says.

“Something moved.”

tansy being a very hm fastidious sort of person translates to being quite perceptive

“I didn’t see anything,” says Jaskier.

“You weren’t looking,” says Tansy.

Geralt rises. He reaches for his sword.

The barn reeks of death. In the semi-darkness he had taken it for one of the bodies piled around it. It’s rising now to its feet, its movements stilted, unnatural. You might take it for a lumbering thing, a slow thing you could outrun. You’d be wrong.

Tansy takes flight, flashing in and out of the light from the doorway, and as she does so it begins to move, crawling forward over the piled bodies with the speed of a darting insect, snatching, grasping at the air above it. Jaskier cries out. “Run!” Geralt barks, raising his sword.

this whole scene was hard for a number of reasons... firstly i don’t know a lot about witcher monsters and spent a while trying to find one that fit the kind of scene I wanted before saying ‘fuck it’ and inventing my own

and secondly I don’t know about anyone else but uhh whenever i want a story to include an action scene in my head it’s just like ‘and then a fight happens!!’

+ w this one as well as planning out the fight i had the extra issue of, how it manages to get hold of Tansy which I. hope i explained satisfactorily.

The sight of silver gives the dæmophage pause. It halts, its eyes wide and staring, its shoulders heaving. It’s a fluid creature and it no longer needs its human disguise. Its limbs stretch, its spine bends at an unnatural angle, its slit nostrils flaring. It has no mouth. It has no need of one. Frost spreads from its fingers, coating its hands and arms, the bodies beneath it, the packed dirt floor.

He’s aware of laboured breathing behind him. He’s aware, suddenly, that Jaskier has not run. He risks a glance over his shoulder and sees him pressed to the far side of the door frame, gripping the wood with one white-knuckled hand. His other hand is held, clenched, to his chest. The colour has drained from his face.

“Run,” Geralt says. “Run!” Still Jaskier doesn’t move, and stepping back, not taking his eyes off the dæmophage, Geralt reaches blindly behind himself, finds Jaskier and shoves him backwards.

He resists, and in that resistance Geralt feels what has happened, feels it before Jaskier lets out a pained sound, before he says, choked, “Tansy.” For it’s not the resistance of one who doesn’t want to go; it’s the resistance of one tethered, of a tied-up dog trying to run from a fire.

The dæmophage is crawling forward again, one-handed. It’s holding something in its other hand, in a hand thick with ice. He can’t see what it is. He knows what it is. “Geralt –” Jaskier wheezes, and whatever he means to say next he can’t find the breath.

There are many vile ways to die, in the world. Few worse than your dæmon becoming meal to a creature like this, the life crushed from it, your soul slowly, torturously drained away.

He takes off the dæmophage’s arm first, the arm that holds Tansy, and its whole body jerks spraying dark blood across the walls, across the bodies. As its severed arm hits the ground its fingers fall open and he sees her, a fistful of icy brown feathers, but there’s no time to dwell on her, no time to dwell on if he was fast enough, if there is anything left to save. The dæmophage lashes out at him with its other hand, with its sharpening claws; he dodges, swings, and its arm falls to the ground, cut at the elbow.

It takes two strikes to cleave off its head. Its body remains half-upright, swaying, blood bubbling from its neck. He stands over it, sword raised, breathing hard. They’re fluid creatures. Half-shadow. You can never be sure.

It falls. It is still. He lowers his sword.

Behind him Jaskier falls heavily to the ground. Geralt turns to find him on his knees, shuddering all over, gasping, but still conscious, his eyes alert. He slumps forward, catching himself on his hands, and empties his stomach onto the dirt.

“Tansy,” he croaks. “Oh gods, Tansy –” He sees her, still in the dead creature’s hand, melted frost dripping from her feathers. He tries to rise. His legs won’t hold him.

She had been in its grip less than a minute. It must have felt like an age. Geralt is surprised he didn’t faint. Perhaps he’s made of sterner stuff than he looks.

so I don’t imagine this being as much a matter of Inner Strength as much as (as established early) Jaskier & Tansy having a very close and intimate bond, which in turn is a reflection of Jaskier being at ease with himself and the kind of person he is.

in short this isn’t a matter of jaskier being like, exceptionally brave so much as being like ‘hey! don’t you dare! fuck you!’

Stepping closer Geralt takes his arm and heaves. “I told you to wait with Roach,” he says. But the look Jaskier gives him, of mute, numb disbelief at his coldness, silences any further reproach.

He hauls Jaskier to his feet, but Jaskier tugs his arm from his grip. He wipes his face on his sleeve and staggers forward, falling to his knees once again beside her, reaching for her with shaking hands.

When he picks her up he lets out a gasp of relief – or terror – it’s hard to say which. She doesn’t respond to his touch. She lies limp in his hands.

Jaskier looks up at him, and voice unsteady he says, “she’s cold.”

He sets the barn alight. By the time he’s done it’s growing dark, and the wind has died away. He leaves it to burn on its hilltop, to be sure the creature is dead. He’ll tell the villagers to come back when it’s burned to the ground, to take the bones of their dead and bury them properly. They’ll do it, if not for the right reasons.

The barn is a red-orange blaze in the distance. Down in the valley there’s a chill in the air. He can see Jaskier’s breath, though it’s not cold enough for that. He hasn’t stopped shaking. Geralt builds a fire, so he can warm himself, and sets about fastening the dæmophage’s head to Roach’s saddle.

“Geralt, she’s still cold,” says Jaskier. He’s kneeling too close to the fire, Tansy clutched to his chest, hidden in his cupped hands. He’s stripped off his filthy doublet, dark with the creature’s blood. “Geralt. Geralt. She won’t wake up.”

i don’t know if it actually makes sense for jaskier to have got blood on him but listen i will take any excuse to have him take his doublet off bcos i’m just into it.

“She’ll wake up,” says Geralt.

“Are you sure?” says Jaskier.

“Hm,” says Geralt. He isn’t sure. You can never be sure. But if it had drained enough of the life from her that she was beyond waking, Jaskier’s mind would have broken. She’d be fading away. She was in shock. That was all. She’d wake.

If he’d been fast enough to kill it, but not fast enough to save her – he’d seen it before. He’d seen men and women, their minds broken into icy fragments, spending their last days terrified, in pain, alone. Unable to understand what had happened to them. Sometimes it was more merciful to let the dæmophage finish its meal, and kill them outright.

Not this time. He’d been fast enough.

“She – she won’t wake up, Geralt, she –” Jaskier breaks off in a ragged gasp. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Give her some time,” says Geralt. He fetches a blanket, and tosses it to Jaskier.

Jaskier doesn’t take it. “I can’t wake her up,” he says. “Geralt, what do I do?”

“Stop panicking,” says Geralt.

It’s no good. Jaskier understands what he’s saying, but he can’t keep his thoughts straight long enough to act on it. His mind is clouded. Where his connection to Tansy should be there’s nothing but confusion.

this was a fun opportunity to get a little bit into how the connection between a person and their daemon works :3

“I don’t know what to do,” he says. “I can’t think – Geralt, I can’t –”

His name falls again and again from Jaskier’s lips and it carries a silent plea. Help me. Do something.

He doesn’t know what to do. Or rather he knows what he ought to do, to offer comfort and warmth until this passes, but he doesn’t know how.

If he had seen it sooner. If he hadn’t let Jaskier talk him into taking him into danger. If he’d been quicker, smarter, harsher.

Tansy will get better. Jaskier will walk away from this.

double meaning in ‘walk away from this’ as in ‘survive this’ but also ‘will walk away FROM GERALT because of this’

Tension, behind him. He feels her long before he sees her, long before she ghosts into the firelight on owl-wings. She lands and with a soft rushing of air she’s herself again. Jaskier falls silent, startled at seeing her change, though he knew she cold.

“Jaskier,” she says. “Do you trust me?”

Half-watching, Geralt sees him nod.

“Put her down,” she says.

Jaskier hesitates. “But –”

“I know what I’m doing,” says Dag. “Put her down. Let me see.” Again he refuses, a wordless stammer of protest. “Jaskier. You’re panicking. Breathe deep. Put her down.”

Jaskier lays Tansy down. His hands are still shaking, but his breathing has slowed. That’s something. “What’s happening to her?” he says. “It hurts –”

He’d known it must. But Jaskier hadn’t said so, to him.

Dag noses at Tansy’s tiny, limp body. She licks her, once. “She’s just cold,” she says. “She’s just fainted. She’ll be fine.”

The back of one hand pressed to his mouth, Jaskier sobs.

“Shh,” says Dag. “Jaskier. Be calm.” Then she ducks her head forward, and touches him.

She touches her head to his face, nuzzling him, and at that contact a tremor goes through Geralt like a static shock. It’s only for a moment. Jaskier jerks away from her, as one would if a dæmon came too close by mistake.

this scene was inspired a bit by the part in The Subtle Knife where Pantalaimon physically comforts Will bcos he doesn’t have a daemon to comfort him. Obviously Jaskier does have a daemon, but he’s experiencing her being unconscious while he’s awake for the first time, making him essentially bereft of her.

He turns to look at Geralt, standing by Roach, no longer pretending he isn’t watching this. Their eyes meet. Geralt says nothing. Does nothing.

Jaskier turns back to Dag. Her eyes are lidded. Gingerly, Jaskier raises a hand to touch her. Geralt should cry out stop. He should go over there and drag them apart. He doesn’t.

Jaskier runs his hand over her head, the touch barely-there, just enough pressure to be felt through her fur. Geralt feels that touch like a gentle nudge somewhere within his ribs. It doesn’t feel bad.

He can feel, somehow feel birdsong in that touch. He can feel silk, and music, and laughter. It feels like the smell of perfume and candle smoke. Polished wood beneath his fingers. He’d had another’s hand on Dag before. It did not feel like this.

and THIS description of what touching (or being touched by) a person’s daemon would be like was inspired by how it’s depicted in Disciples of Apollo which is an a+++ daemon AU you should read if you like daemon stuff regardless of whether you’re a fan of M*A*S*H or not... please read it it’s so good.

He wonders what Jaskier feels, touching her.

i do intend to cover this. eventually. if i ever get around to writing more of this series.

Jaskier runs his hand over Dag’s head a second time. She purrs, low and deep in her chest. On the ground, Tansy gasps for breath.

my intention here is that Jaskier’s distress is part of what’s keeping Tansy from waking up, but then as long as she’s unconscious he can’t calm down, so by acting as a kind of stand-in daemon for him Dag is helping him Chill The Fuck Out sufficiently for Tansy to pull herself together.

“Tansy.” Jaskier’s hand falls from Dag’s head, and he reaches for her. “Oh gods, Tansy –” He cradles her in his hands. Her whole body is trembling.

“Jaskier,” she says, and at the sound of her voice all of his breath leaves him, his shoulders shaking, limp, weak with relief. He kisses her, holds her close by his face. Neither of them speak.

Geralt looks away. He meets Dag’s eyes, and she holds his gaze. He understands why she did it. He wouldn’t take it back. He’d do it again, and again. He still doesn’t like it. Dag turns away from him. She lies down beside the fire.

He tucks the blanket around Jaskier’s shoulders, and Jaskier murmurs thanks. He sits. He cleans his sword. The air smells like smoke. They shouldn’t linger here, in the dark. Jaskier’s breath is still fogging the air.

“We should go back to the village,” he says.

“Okay,” says Jaskier. Unsteady on his feet, he levers himself upright with one hand, the other cradling Tansy to his chest. “Okay.”

In the village lights are still burning in the windows. Geralt unties the dæmophage’s mouthless head.

“Should we,” says Jaskier, “talk about this?”

“Hm?” says Geralt.

“You know what I mean,” says Jaskier. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” says Geralt, and taking the creature’s head he marches away.

“I’ve heard of mixed signals,” calls Jaskier in his wake. “But this is ridiculous!”

am not actually 100% happy with this part, i wanted to get this line in but i couldn’t get it to mesh w the tone of the scene

The village is too small for an inn, but as well as coin the monster’s head earns them a bed for the night in the alderman’s house, and an invitation to dinner.

The monster’s head, and perhaps Jaskier; Jaskier, whose boyish smile and pretty dæmon had charmed the alderman and his wife at once, Jaskier, who had come back from the hunt pale, and shivering in a way they must recognise.

geralt thinks Tansy is very pretty. that’s just how his tastes run and he genuinely has no idea that most people don’t think nightingales are like, notably pretty.

There’s only one bed in the room they’re given but the alderman’s daughter makes up a cot. He tells Jaskier to take the bed. Jaskier doesn’t argue. Jaskier says nothing at all.

Since his outburst when they reached the village he’s spoken only to say yes and please and thank you. He lies upon the bed, staring at the ceiling, one hand stroking a slow, contemplative circle on his own stomach. Tansy sits on the pillow beside his head, plucking at his hair, grooming at him like a mother cat with a kitten.

Geralt washes the dæmophage’s blood from his hands. It has dried into the creases in his palms, under his fingernails.

“Will you come to dinner?” he says.

“Not very hungry,” says Jaskier.

Stretched out upon the cot, Dag raises her head. “You should eat,” she says.

Geralt sees her indoors so rarely. It takes him off-guard, sometimes, how large she is compared to human things. The alderman and his family must have been startled, to see him go on a hunt without a dæmon and return with one, but they had said nothing about it.

i did not mention that dag is in this scene before she speaks to emphasise that her presence indoors is unusual and unexpected. i am very smart.

She lies alert, tail flicking, watching over Jaskier.

His hands don’t feel clean. He washes them again. “You’re quiet,” he says.

“Hmm?” says Jaskier.

“Are you alright?” says Geralt.

“Since when do you care?” says Jaskier. “I thought you wanted me to shut up.”

“What will it take for you to give me some peace?” he had said, more than once.

“Hell or high water, probably,” Jaskier had answered, sunnily smiling.

If he hadn’t been fast enough. If the creature had taken something that could not be brought back – the light in his eyes. Warmth. A smile he’d never see again. Not like this. He didn’t want it like this.

once again double meaning re geralt thinking that jaskier is going to leave him because of this

He leans heavily upon the washstand. He breathes out. He’d been fast enough. Jaskier was shaken. That was all. He’d be fine.

“I’m just,” says Jaskier. “Thinking.”

“What are you thinking about?” says Geralt.

“What’s it to you?” says Jaskier. A moment’s quiet, and he says, “why don’t elves have dæmons?”

this is my no 1 issue w this fic (which i am otherwise happy with), I really wanted to get this conversation in but wasn’t quite sure where to put it. originally i was going to include it much earlier, and have it be in response to meeting the elves, but i couldn’t get it to work with the pacing and i needed something for them to discuss here so. here it is. i’m not 100% sure it works. i think i understand why jaskier is bringing this up now but i’m not sure how to describe it properly.

The question jars him. It’s like something a child would ask. Why it’s on Jaskier’s mind now, of all times, he can’t imagine. “You know why.”

“I want to hear what you have to say about it,” says Jaskier.

“It’s the way the world is,” says Geralt. “Humans have dæmons. Elves don’t. Others don’t.”

“You’re not human and you have a dæmon,” says Jaskier.

“You know why,” says Geralt again. He can feel Dag’s stare on him, accusing, but he can’t help his frustration. He has the sense that Jaskier is goading him – or trying to catch him out in a lie. He doesn’t know what Jaskier wants from him.

“Do you think it’s lonely?” says Jaskier.

“Being an elf?” says Geralt.

“Mm,” Jaskier agrees.

tbqh it’s just occurred to me now as im re-reading it that part of this is jaskier obliquely asking geralt about his own feelings about having a daemon.

Geralt begins to dry his hands. “You can’t miss what you never had.”

“I don’t know,” says Jaskier. “I miss all sorts of things I’ve never had.”

Geralt waits for him to expand on that thought. But he’s lapsed back into silence. “Elves find dæmons distasteful,” he says. “It bothers them. Like seeing someone with their insides spilling out. They think half-elves born without dæmons are stronger for it.”

At that, mystifyingly, Jaskier laughs a little. “Hear that, Tansy?” he says. “Maybe I would have been stronger if I didn’t have you, like a half-elf. What do you think?”

gjlkghjklghdfj i had so much trouble w this line bcos my beta fully believed that this was jaskier professing that he was half elf so i had to re-write it and somehow at least one reviewer has still thought that was the implication... he’s 100% not half elf in this AU sorry. if i ever get around to writing the sequel it will be evident that he’s not half elf (or like if he is he has no idea)

Tansy clicks her beak. “I think you’d miss me terribly,” she says. “Even if you’d never had me.”

His hands are dry. He stops running the cloth over them, and sets it aside. “Dag’s right,” he says. “You should eat.”

“If you insist,” says Jaskier. “Where are we going next?”

Geralt turns to look at him. He’s gazing up at Tansy, running a finger over her neck. “After dinner?” he says.

“Tomorrow,” says Jaskier. Geralt says nothing, but his silence must speak for itself, for Jaskier looks at him and says, “don’t think you’re getting rid of me that easily.”

“Why?” says Geralt.

“I’m a glutton for punishment, I suppose,” Jaskier says. “Anyway. I’m working on a song and it isn’t finished.”

“Hm?” says Geralt.

Jaskier’s gaze drifts back to Tansy. “Still needs an ending,” he says.

i wasn’t sure how to end this story and this last line is very cheeky eheheh. i can do what i want.

thank you again for requesting!! i hope u enjoy this commentary. it has been a fun diversion. i’m very pleased w this fic and i love talking about daemon AUs. <3

#witcher daemon au

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turning-dreams-into-chaos · 5 years ago

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Upcoming Requests

As I promised, I’m popping on to post a list of all my requests I’m doing. I know I have asks and messages, but I’m not going to go through them right now, but I appreciate all your support everyone. I’m not tagging people who requested until it’s posted because most of these are anons. Please like and reblog this, just so others are aware of what I’m doing, and comment which pieces you’re looking forward to the most! It’s a LONG list, so I’m adding a read more option. I’m not posting these in any order, that’s just how they’re listed.

Also check out my writing challenge in my bio!

Requests:

Bellamy Blake:

Can you do a Bellamy x reader? which takes place in season 3 with the chips that take away their pain. The reader is going through something and wants to take it but Bellamy stops them? Love your writing and don’t care about the haters!

Hi! It’s me again. I’ve got this BellamyxReader idea where the reader has become more and more reckless, and when she kills someone she doesn’t even flinch. Everyone’s worried, especially Bellamy. When they get to restrain chipped-Raven and they’re taking shifts to check on her. While it’s the reader’s turn, Raven says something that makes her snap. I have 2 ideas for the end: either the readers goes out and points a gun to her head or she points it to Raven. Either way, Bellamy stops her. (I was thinking that maybe no one knows about it and that the reader’s been keeping it under control with the meds Kane managed to give her before she was sent to earth with the 100 (maybe she could be Kane’s daughter).Then, when Jaha started chipping everyone, ALIE ordered someone to steal her meds and she didn’t really want to tell anyone about the missing meds. She started to go through the maniac phase of it, and people around her (Bellamy, Clarke) started to notice that something was off Then, coming back to my original request lol, Raven told her that they stole their meds to mess with her and you can connect it with the rest of my other request)

Hi there, I was wondering if i could request an angsty/fluffy S5 Bellamy fic based on the song “Hesitate” by the Jonas Brothers? Thank you ☺❤

Is it possible to get a bellamy one-shot or something based on the song “I hate you, I love you” by gnash and olivia o’brien? I’m not really picky (at all) by what the plot is, but I feel like it’s a good song to write a fic about, thanks girlie 💜 ~ Posted!

Okay soooo I have this on my mind for aawhile!Are you able to do a Bellamy Blake x plus size (if you want) reader imagine based on the song “Don’t wanna fall in love” by KYLE… if you want though!

Hi! I have a request What about a Bellamy x Reader based on the song Happy Pills by Weathers?

Would you be willing to do a Bell x Reader based on the song ALARM by Anne-Marie? Maybe something in season 1, but you can decide a different season if it’s easier☺

Your song fics are so goooddddd! Can you PLEASE do one based on If the World was Ending? Its by JP Saxe and Julia Michaels. Can it be a lot of angst and maybe a cute ending if it works? Thank you!!!!!

Hi!! I love your work! I was wondering if you could write a Bellamy x reader based on the song Hot Girl Bummer by blackbear! Thank you ❤️ have a nice day!

Could you maybe do something Season 1 Bellamy where he's tough and lets everybody "do whatever the hell they want" but he's bossier to you and you're a rebellious spirit but he's actually being hard on you because he really really likes you and he doesn't want anything to happen to you (he's bossy in a roundabout way so he makes sure you get dinner and are safe and stuff) and maybe something happens and she gets hurt cause she's mad at him and he admits his feelings for her? Sassy and sweet?

Sirius Black:

hello! can i request an imagine in which reader is Lucius’ little sister, so she has a bad reputation among the marauders, but on their last year, her and Sirius are supposed to work on a project together so they start spending more time together and he realises that she’s not like her family at all, so they start developing feelings for each other? maybe they even kiss in the end? hehe. thanks!

Hey sweets! I was wondering if I could request a oneshot with young!Sirius please? Something with a lot of mutual pining? Also if the reader could be in Ravenclaw that would be really nice :) Thanks anyways 💓

can i request an extremely fluffy (floof upon floof) and wholesome fic with sirius? :’) thank you

Could you please write a Sirius x reader where the reader is a Gryffindor but is very quiet and cold and Sirius tries to get closer to her?

Hey! I saw that your requests for the marauders were open. I would like to request a Sirius oneshot where he has a crush on reader who is super sassy and will not give him time of the day. He is a bit sad and so maybe James takes it upon himself to get them together? Maybe as a bonus they help July get together too? Thankyou 😍

Hey! How are you? Thanks to Seira I discovered you were writing for the marauders! So I was thinking could you right something on the marauders (Sirius x reader) were it’s full moon and they’re in the muggle world. Moony is stuck in the middle of a village, there is a lot of muggle around him so the reader (who is an animagus too since she’s a marauder) save him but finish hurt by a villager so Sirius protect her and carry her away? I hope it’s understandable and sorry if my English is bad :)

Barry Allen:

Hiii! One last request before you close them! Maybe a Barry Allen x reader where the reader has got “dark” powers? I picture her like Billie Eilish in her music video “Bury a Friend”. I don’t know if I explained it clearly 😂

James Potter:

I really love your works on Harry Potter (basically marauders) Can I request 14, 16, 18, 23, 28 for James Potter. Can reader be Remus' twin sister, a Gryffindor? I I would be really happy to read it. Also if possible can you make a happy ending for it? I trust you can write a perfect fic! Thank you:) (are you still open to this kind of requests?)~ Posted!

could u maybe work on a lil james potter fic (cus ur reqs for him are open)? one where he's trying so hard to get a girl in the quidditch team (but she's bolder than he is so she tells him she'll only join if he goes on a date w her) i thought it'd be pretty cool... thank u

I don't know if you are taking one shot requests but if you are, I would like to request a James Potter x reader (different houses, not specified) where they enter a Hogwarts Couples Baking Challenge and they're just having fun. Thanks!

Remus Lupin:

Hi!!! Could I get a gender neutral!reader x Remus?? Something with mutual pining maybe?? Also I would love if the reader is in hufflepuff!! Thank you!!!

Hey! Can I request a oneshot with Remus where he likes reader who is Lily's best friend and us smarter than her too and is also a prefect? He asks for her help to study and accidentally confesses his feelings at the same time/or confesses during one of their prefect rounds? Thankyou!

can i request some angst for younger remus where it's a couple days after the full moon and he looks for the reader so they can cuddle (they're already dating) and he finds them kissing another guy, and he asks reader why and the readers like "i dont want you anymore, i love this guy, blah blah blah" and he's heart broken but later somehow reader's friend finds out the guy gave them a love potion and fixes it, and reader has to try to explain to Remus that it's what happened but he doesn't (1/2) believe her, and it's all angsty because he's mad at her but in the end he understands or something like that, and i am SO sorry that this is so long, and i love love love your writing~ Posted!

John Murphy:

I think 18 by 1D would be such a cute song for Murphy! I saw your requests were open for him (THANK GOD because your writing is incredible!) and I was hoping you wouldn’t mind? Thanks love!

John Murphy with a reader that got her arm or leg or both taken on earth and it’s about her recovering and John helping her. If you can’t do John then sorry for bothering!!

Undecided:

I wasn't going to ask this because I already requested something (believe me when I say I read the moment I knew lots of times already), but just trying it won't hurt me, right? (right? 😭) I need something based on lover of mine by 5sos it can be bellamy, sirius, james, remus or bucky, whoever you think would fit better. thank you for putting up with my shit 🤧 love you tons - 🍑 (Undecided because I haven’t figured out who to write for yet, I think it might be Bucky)

So this is hella randombut can u do a eli goree x reader ship. Eli played wells on the 100 and mad dog on riverdale btw. Anyway can it be were your also famous actor and played in the 100 and riverdale ect and u guys are playing a game on the jimy falon show and your picking random QUITIONS from a dec of cards abd most of them are things having to fo with ur friend ship (u guys are like bestfriends and everybody ships u2) reader picks random card that says I asked you out would you say yes? (Undecided because my requests aren’t open for Eli and I’ve never written for an actor before, but I kinda wanna write this despite my requests not for him. So idk yet. Question: If I do write this, do you Eli to say yes? and do you want them together? No promises on writing it, but send me an ask and let me know please.)

#Request list #todo #Requests closed #send asks #bellamy blake x reader #Sirius black x reader #barry allen x reader #remus lupin x reader #james potter x reader #bucky barnes x reader #let me know which ones yall are waiting for #I came i posted imma leave

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franklyshipping · 5 years ago

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Day 20 ~ Christmas 2019 Ego Fanfics

WOOOOOO DAY HECKIN 20 PEOPLE, LET'S KEEP THE CUTENESS ROLLING WOOOO LET'S DO THIS!

I imagine that if you have offspring, and that offspring has a passion or an intense hobbie, it is your duty as a loving parent to encourage it to the absolute maximum at any given opportunity. In this instance, Chase has literally saved up as much money as he could so he could help his sweet 7 year old Marceline with her passion for make-up. You may think that this is a typical interest for a young girl in our modern society, however, it’s a tad different. Marceline’s interest in make-up is very specific….since she only enjoys putting make-up on other people, of all genders, and she adores making up palette and style ideas for them rather than herself. When she found out she was going to see A LOT of her pops’ friends who didn’t wear make-up at all, she’d never felt so excited. Currently, she has just completed another absolutely stunning look…on Gooper.

‘You look so pretty!’

Marceline squeaked as she held up a mirror for Gooper…who immediately squealed in delight. His little green form had soft blotches of pink either side as a form of blush, and the little girl had also carefully constructed little eyebrows for him. Needless to say, he was over the moon and jumped about giddily, squealing with his gratitude as Marceline giggled happily.

‘Yohou’re wehelcome Goopy!’

The little guy immediately bounced off so he could go and show everyone else his new look, whilst Marceline smiled and turned to the guy who was set to be her next client. He was sat on a squishy beanbag in the living area they were in….but didn’t look especially happy about it. Nevertheless, Marceline gestured for him to come over.

‘Welcome to my salon Mr Mare!’

That’s right, enter Natemare. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure why he was in the goddamn household, I mean honestly you make it into one music video and suddenly you’re the alter ego of Nathan Sharp with links to the FNAF universe. The young man bit the inside of his cheek as he shuffled over to the little girl, running a hand through his short black hair awkwardly. He’d just been in the living room at the wrong time, so now having this make-over was sealed into his fate.

‘Hey….you’re not gonna like, put layers of weird products on my face are you?’

He muttered nervously. The guy wasn’t accustomed or comfy with being touched in general, and was only letting this happen because she was a kid and had been almost inhumanly polite so far, which made Mare feel something very odd….comfort. Marceline cocked her head at the man with a giggle and a smile.

‘Cohourse not! I just wanna make you look like your best inside self! Your blue streaks are so pretty by the way, you’re SO a blue metal-y person!’

Mare blinked a few times at her words, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he smiled; he wasn’t used to anyone being so nice to him.

‘Oh uh….thanks….’

Marceline smiled happily as she picked out everything she wanted to use, focusing on dark blue eyeshadows and a metallic blue lipstick too, laying everything out in front of her before looking up at the man’s face. She let out a soft sigh. Even though she was a young child, she could see if someone wasn’t feeling so great, and she could see that he felt a little awkward….so she decided she would try and cheer him up a tad. She grinned innocently up at him as she spoke.

‘Okay, I have all the colours I wanna use, but I have to do contours first okay?’

Mare nodded, fiddling with his fingers as he absently watched her pick up a make-up brush, a fan brush. She tapped it gently against some kind of powder she had before approaching him with it, and his kept his head level for her as she started brushing the product just underneath his cheekbone. What Mare didn’t expect though, was to gasp and jump at the sensation. Internally, Marceline was crowing with joy, but on the outside she feigned concern.

‘Are you okay Mr Mare?’

Mare blinked a few times before clearing his throat, smiling at her lightly and feeling a little silly at his reaction.

'Yeah no I’m good, uh, carry on….’

Marceline smiled and did so, using her brush again his pale skin very softly, and very gently….all of which was on purpose. Meanwhile Mare had clenched his jaw amidst his efforts to keep his face still….because that make-up brush tickled him like hell.

‘This might take a bit of a while Mr Mare, so you can just chill!’

Marceline said casually, hiding the mischievous truth of her tickling him on purpose very well as Mare softly cleared his throat, a soft giggle escaping him.

‘C-Cohool….’

Marceline pretended not to notice how his lips threatened to twitch into a smile as he used all his will to keep himself still, and she kept on brushing against his cheek with her soft brush as she absently spoke.

‘Daddy never lets me do brush make-up on him, his face is too ticklish….’

Mare’s eyes widened and he nearly choked on his breath, but he knew he had to keep up conversation; knowing that she was Chase’s kid made Mare figure that if she found out he was ticklish, he’d be doomed.

‘O-Oho…thahat’s i-ahem, ihinteres-sting….’

Marceline repressed giggles of her own as she moved to now brush and softly tickle his other cheek, still speaking casually and acting like everything was normal.

‘I remember one time when Uncle Anti borrowed some of my brushes, and then used them on my dad, it was so funny! Daddy was so squealy and embarrassed!’

Mare felt his face go pink as he tensed….needless to say, he was imagining if somebody did that to him; there were a lot of chills going down his spine as his eyes darted about and his cheeks tingled with ticklishness. He was trying hard to keep his cool, bless him.

‘S-Sohounds like he’s prehetty uh…t-….p-pretty tihicklish….’

Mare was biting down on his bottom lip as he felt himself starting to tremble….and then Marceline decided to be really mean with her next words as she looked at him innocently.

‘Are you ticklish Mr Mare?’

Mare gulped. He felt so silly and embarrassed, she was just asking an innocent question he thought, so there was no reason for him to feel so embarrassed and nervous; he was just so used to being around people ready to tickle at a moment’s notice. Oh if only he knew.

‘A-Aha bit y-yeah….’

He answered honestly, which made Marceline giggle because she thought he was such an adorable guy, he reminded her of her dad when he got flustered from tickles.

‘Awwww that’s so cute!’

She squeaked, unable to keep it in, but thankfully Mare didn’t suspect her yet. Mare let out a bashful cough, bowing his head a little as he smiled, before he let out a little sigh of relief as he felt the brush finally move away from his skin….before he yipped and stuttered when it started fluttering and flicking under his chin.

‘U-Uh wh-whahat a-are yohou d-doing?’

Mare had a lot more giggles building in him now, all the while Marceline feigned concentration as she replied.

‘Jaw contours! I’ll do it real quick though so we can do all the colourful stuff!’

Suddenly the brush was just gliding and fluttering under Mare’s jawline and chin….and the poor sensitive guy just couldn’t take it. He recoiled with a flustered squeak, spluttering and giggling as he tried to escape the brush.

‘W-Wohohoah hehehey okayokay w-wahahait aha sehehecohond!’

Mare tried to shuffle away, but to his surprise Marceline followed him and kept tickling his damn jaw!

‘What’s wrong Mr Mare? It’s only a little brush!’

Marceline giggled, letting her mischievous grin show….and Mare realised everything with wide eyes. He went bright red and ended up grinning brightly with his embarrassment, giggling and scrunching up as he stammered.

‘Y-Yohohohou lihihittle cheheek! I-I-I’ll tehell yohour dahahad!’

Marceline burst into giggles at that, rolling her eyes playfully as she let her brush drag all the way up the side of Mare’s face until it reached his ear. She let the brush swirl and flutter all over and inside his ear as she cooed at him, much liked she cooed at her little brother whenever she tickled him. Mare was about to understand that he was encountering the next generation of tickle monster.

‘No you wooon’t! Cuz I’ll tickle you more if you doooo!’

Mare scrunched his shoulders with a squeal, her teasy threat flustering him to heck.

‘AHAHA NAHAHAT MY EHEHEAR!’

He cried, not daring to push at her for fear of causing an accident, so all Mare could do was hide his face in his hands as Marceline giggled with delight. She didn’t let up, letting her brush swirl and swirl as she gleefully teased him.

‘Ahaaww does it tickle?’

Mare could only nod, and whined through his high-pitched laughter as Marceline moved her brush to his other ear, giving it the same tickly treatment.

‘YEHEHEHES!’

Mare was squealing and shaking as he curled up into a foetal position, laughing his head off as chills and tingles traversed down the back of his neck and down his spine. It was true tickle torture from a true tickle monster in the making, and said tickle monster cooed down at him happily.

‘Do you want it to stoooop?’

Needless to say, Mare nodded frantically.

‘YEHEHES! PLEHEHEEEASE!’

Marceline giggled and had mercy, setting her brush aside as Mare frantically rubbed his ears and jaw because DAMN those ghostly after-tickles were intense. He hid his face in his hands, peeking through his fingers at the grinning little girl as he whined.

‘Why d-dihid you do that, did Ahanti put you up toho it?’

Mare stammered, wondering if the glitch was behind this attack since Anti was always on at him about being less moody and emo, but to Mare’s surprise Marceline shook her head with a smile.

‘No, you just didn’t look happy and I wanted to make you happier!’

Mare’s hands slid from his face into his lap, and he bowed his head embarrassedly as warmth filled his chest….he hadn’t had much experience of people doing things with the purpose of making him happy. Mare made a mental note to go to Chase later and commend him on raising such a kind, yet sweetly evil, human. Because, and this is very key, Mare did in fact feel much happier and less awkward.

‘Wehell….you succeeded….’

He let out a laugh when Marceline squeaked, her dimples showing on her face with how widely she was smiling; she felt so happy that she’d been able to cheer him up. Mare grinned and playfully tweaked in the side as he teased.

‘So, you gonna actually make me pretty now or what?’

Marceline immediately giggled and sprang into ecstatic action, and did indeed make Mare into the prettiest dang azure-metallic gentleman in the entire household….and as a result, made Mare feel pretty damn good about himself too.

WOOOOOO HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS FIC LEMME KNOW IF YA DO WOOOOO LUV YOUS XX

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye egos #marceline brody #natewantstobattle #natemare #mare #sfw #familial #ego fic #ego fanfic #tickle fic #tickle fanfic #tickle #tickles #tickling #ticklish #day 20 #christmas 2019

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