#cause i do shading if i colour it a bit darker it turns out lighter in some places

[zero-is-nebulous]

Sonic stuffs! From the antihero au

[sharoo]

I'm here with you honestly! Fellow traditional artist of way too many years to count, only got a tablet last year and did some art sporadically. Here's some of the stuff I've learned.

Set up

For the start, configure your tablet in your tablet installer's settings. First, check your program of choice's key shortcuts. I use FireAlpaca and it serves me well, though it of course depends on your preferences. Most digital art programmed will have keyboard shortcuts for specific tools (E for eraser, M to select, p for pen, etc) and if your tablet and/or pen has buttons, you can map specific key combinations into it. My pen has 2, so i have switch colours (X) on one button and the eyedropper (i) for the second one.

While you're in the settings, make sure to configure your tablet's sensitivity. it's that little line you can curve. idk the science of it, just fiddle with it up or down if you find it's not responding well.

Line work

For steady line work, remember to turn up the stabiliser. Most digital artists use it and on a high setting to get those nice cohesive lines. it's a useful crutch.

A good starting point for line art, if you're not used to drawing it in digital, is to do it on paper, take a photo, then trace it in the digital program. Alternatively you grab a picture and trace the pose over. It's a way of training!

Remember to watch out layers so you don't end up doing clean line art on the same level as the sketch. Remember you can lock layers to prevent editing them. In FireAlpaca, the locked layer gets a little lock icon.

Also, if you don't like that your lines look a little blurred on the edges, you can go into your brush's settings and turn off anti-aliasing (both on the brushes and erasers).

Clipping

Clipping is amazing. It saves so much time. How I and a lot of artists tend to work is that we begin with line art, then we make another layer and colour it in white within the line art. This white layer, I'll call it the cutout for a lack of a better word, will be what we clip all others onto.

Clipped layers show only on what they are being clipped onto, aka our cutout. So the solution in my case is to clip a folder onto the cutout and start filling it with layers (the layers inside that folder don't need to be clipped, but you can create dimensions of clipping if, say, you want the irises to clip onto the eyeballs but not the entire head).

Clipping is also useful with...

Shading and Effects

This is the part that's the most fun about digital.

Layer settings allow you to do some crazy stuff once you learn them, and I'm only a fledgeling at their use. My best advice is to just fiddle with them as much as you can and experiment. I've discovered that Multiply or Overlay layers are great at creating shadows, while an Add layer is great for light. Use coloured shadows (these layers don't like pure black and white), and adjust the opacity to match your needs. Also remember you can do more than one layer of shadows if you want that gradual darkness, and that gradients set to Add/Multiply layers make for great sources of light and shadow.

Effects a a bit funkier. I mostly use Gausian Blur, which causes the select to go all fuzzy and soft, making it great for shading, especially for adding light (you can copy a layer, use gausian blur on the copy, put it under the original, and set it to Add t o make it somewhat glow!)

Checking your colour values

Something I learned from digital is how much your colours can uninentionally blur despite being distinct. You can learn to use values to guide the eye to what's important, or to make stuff pop! This is where the values layer comes in.

Make a new layer overtop everything else, colour it in wholly black, then set it to Saturation/Colour/Hue (personally i haven't found the difference between these two). Let's use my sona for an example.

Now that the form is in black and white, you can see what stands out, what's darker or lighter, and it can make it easy to notice how, for example, the crown doesn't stand out as much as it could, or the freckles are a point of interest, because they're the darkest spot among a lot of light tones. They draw attention to the face.

From there, you can tweak these, and suddenly you can make stuff stand out! Or blend in, if that's the effect you seek!

Lastly... community

I cannot understate this - find an art community. A discord server, some other group, whatever. Find digital artists you can speak with and ask for precise advice, because you'll get way more out of a few talented friends than from youtube's repository of tutorials (though those are also helpful as heck).

genuinely don't think there's anything more humbling then trying to learn how to do digital art

i respect digital artists SO MUCH, i have for years, it's so impressive -> i'm saying this as a traditional artist trying to learn

tips would be appreciated 😓 

[nataliescatorccio]

becca’s mega coloring tutorial

i’ve gotten a lot of requests recently asking me to make a tutorial for my 'colorporn’ gifsets, and i think i’ve finally gotten over the traumatic incident 3 years ago, when i spent all day writing out a coloring tutorial only to accidentally hit backspace causing the entire thing to be wiped. so, here it is, buckle up folks! it’s going to be a long ride but here’s hoping it’ll be helpful.

so we’ll be going from left side (no coloring) to right (coloring & color porn):

let’s get started! you will need some sort of photoshop in order to do this, i use photoshop cs5 so this tutorial will be based around that, but i imagine you can adapt it for whichever one you use.

this is more of a coloring tutorial than a gif tutorial, but if you’re not sure how to make gifs then this is a pretty good all-encompassing tutorial, although i use 0.05 as my frame delay speed.

we’ll start from your have your basic gif, re-sized cropped and sharpened like so:

step one: curves

so i’m going to start off with basic colouring! the first thing i’m going to do is a curves layer to sort of ‘balance’ the gif out. to do that i go to layers > new adjustment layer > curves. on this window, right next to the graph, are three little droppers. i’m going to click the very bottom one right here: 

this basically allows you to set your ‘whitest’ point in the gif, aka the point that should be the brightest. so i then go to my gif and click on the ‘lightest’ point. there’s a lot of light coming in from the top left hand corner of the scene i’ve chosen, so i’m just going to click it on that point (circled below) and that immediately brightens up the scene.

next i’m do something similar, but with the ‘blackest’ or darkest point on the gif. to do that i’m going to use the very top color picker:

and i’m then going to hit what the blackest point to balance out the light:

what this is basically doing is using your white and black points as color markers to not only brighten and darken the gif in places, but it also acts as a sort of color balancer. it’s very common that shows put a sort of colored ‘filter’ over their scenes, for example the scene i’ve picked has a sort of yellowish filter over the top. you might find that some scenes it doesn’t really affect, but others it makes a tremendous difference. personally i like doing this to get back to a ‘neutral’ ground on the scene, which is particularly useful when we are taking a scene with a warmer color tone (yellow) and trying to make it a cooler tone (purple).

if you are using a darker scene you may have to put a brightness/contrast layer on before you can complete this step, or even add an auto curves layer (hit the ‘auto' button on that same window) before you have a ‘white’ and ‘black’ spot to work on. i love this trick but this is precisely why i say i have no ‘general psd’ because it is entirely scene specific! but here we are at the end of step 1:

step 2: basic coloring

i’m just going to add a few adjustments to round off my basic coloring! i added just a little increase in curves to make the gif a little brighter (a), added a levels layer to enhance the contrast (b), and added some color balance. for this i worked with adding magenta and yellow tones to enhance the skin tones in the gif. i also made the midtones a bit more ‘purply’ (c) (as this is the end colour i want to achieve) and also did the same for the shadows (d).

for a darker gif i would probably add more curves and an additional brightness/contrast layer. color balance is also a really important tool to just play around with, ‘warmer’ scenes need more cyan/blue balance, while ‘colder’ scenes need more yellow/magenta balance. our final product is:

step 3: painting colors

if you wanted, you could probably leave your gif right there, but i like colors and i’m going to embrace them! 

now there are three methods that i bounce between and they really depend on the type of gif you’re working with. an ideal scene would have a strong background color (see step 4) already for you to work with, but the truth is the majority of scenes don’t. as this scene is fairly neutral in background coloring, you’ll see we can’t just use selective colors to get the purple we want, so instead we’re going to do something a bit different. warning: this method won’t work for scenes with a lot of movement! for that you need step 4 or step 5.

first, something i always do with colored gifs, is i add a gradient map layer of black + a light shade of the final color i am trying to achieve, like so:

i then set this layer to ‘soft light’ and lower it to an opacity that i think suits. for this gif i lowered it to 20%.i think this makes the darker colors a little more ‘purply’ and overall gives a smoother affect what we’ll do next.

next is the fun part! we’re going to start adding in the purple. to do this, we want to create a new layer right at the bottom of all your coloring layers, so sandwiched between the actual gif and your first curves layer. then i grab my paint brush (you want one with the blurred edges, not a solid brush),   use the same purple tone i selected for the gradient mask and paint around yen’s face and body. 

i like to split my left and right side into separate layers. this is because i like to use a large paintbrush to solidly paint the left hand side of the gif, and then use a large eraser to get rid of the color from her face/body. the larger eraser you use, the smoother it looks (i’m not saying try and use a 600px eraser, just a 100px rather than a 10px creates a better effect). now it looks like this:

don’t worry that it looks very white, that’s just because it’s under all the curves layers! so now all i do is change it from normal, to multiply, and as you can see we have a nice purple background:

repeat this process for the right hand side:

you may find that if you’re working with a darker gif, setting these layers to ‘hue’ or ‘color’ is better. and again, the opacity may need a bit of playing around with. remember it’s ok to play around with effects and what might work for one gif will not work for another just because scenes and lighting vary!

then i just painted a line across the bottom, over her chest area, and lowered this to a 41% opacity. this just helped to enhance the purple feel of the gif. now we’re left with:

so a few finishing touches, i noticed that there was a spot by her right arm that as she moves, exposes a bit more of a ‘yellowish’ band. to fix this, at the top of all my coloring layers, but under the gradient map, i added a layer and just put a small purple dot on top with my paintbrush, and set the layer to ‘color’. 

lastly, i wanted to make the right side a deeper purple, so i used selective colors to manipulate the magentas to the shade i wanted. then with the layer mask, painted black over the right hand side of the gif so it didn’t affect this coloring.

and there we have it! i have my finished gif!

tips: sometimes it’s nice to enhance lighter and darker parts of the gif further. i didn’t with this one as i already thought the natural lighting did it well enough, but of course this might not always be the case! 

while i liked the coloring of this gif, i wanted a bit more variation in the purple tones. so, under all the coloring layers again, i painted some black on the right hand side, set this to softlight, and played with the opacity (it ended up on 65%). then added another purple layer on the right hand side, but set this to overlay instead and again lowered the opacity (to 58%) and got this:

you can play around with this to get different tones, and you can even change the color of what you’re painting on to create a gradient effect! for example, if i change the black softlight layer to a dark blue, and the overlay purple layer to a lighter pink, i get this:

and then you can use blue and magenta selective colors to play around with that even more. it’s all about experimenting and seeing what works!

step 4: selective colors

to do this method, you need to have a gif that has a strong background color. it doesn’t matter what that color is, or even if it has two, but it doesn’t work well with a netural background. for example this gif (which i’ve already done my base coloring on), is perfect to work with:

as we can see it’s very yellow in the background which is perfect! so the first thing i’m going to do is  is create a new hue/saturation layer, set this to ‘color’ and then on the drop down menu change the color to ‘yellow’. from here i just dragged the hue bar till it was pink/purple.

because i’m working with yellow, which is a skin tone, we find that her skin has also gone pink. now i don’t really want this effect as i’d like her to look natural! so all i’m going to do is grab my black brush, paint on the layer mask, and erase this from her face. this won’t be so much of a problem if you’re adjusting cool tones, such as blues or greens.

i then used some selective colors to adjust the magentas and the same ‘tip’ i used for step 3 to add a little bit of gradient variation and all done!

step 5: all the time in the world

sometimes, you have scenes that won’t conform to either of the two methods listed. either they have too much movement for step 3 to work, or too neutral a background, or the selective colors won’t work for the overall color of the gifset. also, if you’re working with something of a yellow background with a lot of movement, the selective color method doesn’t work great because it ends up disturbing the skin tone of the person you’re giffing.

for example, for this gif i did all the steps in step 3, and got this:

now i love the coloring, but it’s messy. the movement of her hand means that her hand dips in and out of the yellow, but leaves background exposed.and the turn of her head means half her head ends up yellow. so instead of giving up, because i am a stubborn bitch, i take my yellow layers i’d painted on, merge them into one and start coloring them frame by frame. 

to do this i adjust the timing of the yellow layer to fit each scene, and fill in/erase the yellow around yennefer as required. it ends up looking a bit like this:

i must say this can be pretty time consuming. it’s fine for shorter gifs, but it doesn’t work for a gif with a lot of frames. i don’t mind cos i just do this in the background while watching a movie, but it’s not for everyone. you might just prefer to play around with selective colors as in step 4, but you also might find if you’re adjusting warm skin colors, that you’ll need to use a layer mask frame by frame to still get the clean affect you want!

anyway, i added a slight yellow layer set to ‘hue’ over her dress to round it all off, and after coloring it frame by frame i got the affect i wanted:

obviously if you did all gifs like this it would take all week, but in mixing all three techniques i end up creating the sets i want!

the end

and that’s it, i hope this has actually semi-made sense and is of help. if you have any further questions or points you want elaborating on please feel free to ask! a lot of this takes time, practice and experimenting, so my biggest tip is just be patient and play around with what works for you :)

[shimmeringclouds]

Karamatsu - Lycoris Radiata

𝘠𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘪!𝘒𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘴𝘶 𝘟 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Dim. Yet warm. You figured that's how a forest would be during the summer.

With that thought in mind, however, it didn't help you whatsoever with finding the path you were supposed to be walking along. Of course you would lose track of where you were meant to be walking; wandering minds and feet aren't exactly a good pair.

Glancing upward through the mess of tree branches and leaves, you could just about make out the glimmer of stars above you. Looks like you missed dinner. Again. Was it really so hard for you to go for a relaxing walk in the woodlands?

Sighing, you rubbed your upper thighs. Sore. The blood pumping through them felt weird against the fabric of your trousers, thumping uncomfortably against your fingers. Tingling. Just... weird.

Tree trunks stood by attentively, waiting patiently for your tired figure to curl up against its' bark. And you did just that, groaning as you stretched out your arms and legs. Your arms fell with a thud to your sides, fingers absentmindedly caressing the cool grass beneath you.

...Now what? Were you just going to sit there for the rest of the night? A ridiculous idea, surely. However, it was the only thing you could do. It's not like you knew if anyone was nearby to help you get home and, even then, you didn't think you could just trust anyone you would meet in the middle of the woods at night.

Another sigh. You're good at those, aren't you? You tried to take a look at your surroundings, only to see the dark figures of trees and bushes (at least, you hoped they were bushes). Dark blues and greens, hues of black, absences of colour.

A flash of red. A stark contrast to the deep colours around you. A beautiful flower, you saw. Its' crimson petals clustered together in the centre, with numerous similar coloured stems curling upwards, swaying and dancing with the wind.

"A Spider Lily, huh?" you muttered. You reached out and grazed the tips of your finger against it, a small smile tugging at your lips. "You shouldn't bloom here, all alone like this..."

Your mind briefly wandered back to a conversation you had had with a friend at some point throughout the week. Being the flower enthusiast she was, you always allowed yourself to become subject to her seemingly endless rants about flowers, plants, herbs - anything that she had knowledge about. You remembered what she had said about these richly coloured beauties.

'If you see someone that you may never meet again, these flowers will bloom along the path.'

It sounded like a beautiful but tragic piece of poetry. You began to wonder where the myth had even come from. When was it first spoken? Was it based on true events? Was it really such a bad thing, not meeting someone again?

You knew, from experience, that letting people leave your everyday life was actually beneficial for yourself. Although it took you a number of years to realise it, you found that the kinds of people you attracted were a lot worse than they appeared to be. Deep down, they were monsters. Horrible people, who have the audacity to call themselves human.

Of course it was painful, but only at first. Now, it didn't bother you much anymore. Your soul felt lighter, if anything, indicating that you were getting better, not worse.

Releasing the flower from your ghost of a grasp, you leaned your head back, closing your eyes. That was enough for today. It was time to rest for a while. Breathing in, and out, slowly, ever so slowly, a feeling of slumber crept its way into your body.

Relaxing your tense muscles, you released a long, heavy breath. Sleep.

"It's dangerous to sleep out here, my dove."

"WHA-!!"

An unholy shriek escaped from your throat suddenly, and you pushed your body away from the tree you were leaning against, crawling rapidly across the ground. Whipping your body around, your wide eyes landed on the lantern that outlined the shadowy figure, who stood just behind where you were previously sitting.

"S-Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you, angel!"

The deep, husky voice that whispered into your ear became slightly higher pitched and frantic. You saw the figure step forward, causing you to flinch.

"Ah, do not worry, princess. I won't harm you..."

"That's what they all say!" you blurted out. A short silence followed before you asked:

"Who.. Who are you?"

The figure stepped forward, raising its' lantern to reveal itself.

It was... a man. Yet he wasn't human. His skin was pale, eyes surrounded by red markings. On top of his brown hair was a pair of glowing blue horns, which seemed to flow like fire. his clothing seemed old fashioned, covering his slightly built figure in dark robes of satin and ribbons. The lantern that he held also emitted the same coloured light as his horns, flickering before you.

"You may call me Karamatsu, my dear," he bowed slightly, a cat-like grin crossing his features. "I am but a humble spirit who spotted a wandering soul, lost and alone in a forest that humans should be cautious with. Perhaps some guidance is in your best interest?"

"I, uhm... You're not.. human?" A deep chuckle sounded, sending a shiver up your spine. It was echoey. As if, even though he was standing right in front of you, he was still so far away.

"I'm afraid not, flower. I am an Aoandon. But do not be afraid, I am not here to hurt you. I would only be a guilty guy if I were to leave such a beautiful woman alone in the woods, where anything could happen."

He reached out a partially gloved hand to your figure, still on the ground.

"Please, allow my light to guide you home."

You were sure that if you could see the words he spoke, they would be surrounded by flowers and sparkles. You never knew a man - or anyone, for that matter - to speak in such an overzealous manner.

However, it wasn't necessarily a bad thing. It didn't make you feel uncomfortable. Quite the opposite, actually. You guessed that's why you reached up and grasped his unnaturally cold hands, allowing him to pull you upwards in a swift motion. He grinned softly down at you, making you realise just how short you were compared to him.

"May I ask for your name, love? Or would you prefer the names I give you?" he winked. You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes, in fear that he would actually hurt you if you got on the wrong foot. So he was a gentleman and a flirt? What an odd combination.

"[Y/N]..." you decided to not answer his second question. It was probably for the best.

"[Y/N]. A wonderful name! As gorgeous as the stars above! I am certain that they aligned to create a bridge just for us to meet on this special night!" Karamatsu's hands were waving around in wild, extravagant gestures. He looked ridiculous. What a strange character.

"I- .. Sure.."

For most of the journey, you listened to this... spirit, ramble nonsense about the scenery around you, or about your features that he found endearing. There were times where he would deliberately lower his voice into something he thought was sultry and enticing, peering into your eyes with a smouldering stare. You didn't mind the dip in his voice at all, not a single bit. It was just the way that the poor man was clearly trying too hard to make you fall for him.

'He clearly has never been successful with any woman before... How cute!'

You couldn't help yourself. You had just met him, and you already wanted to know more about him. Was that weird? Probably. Maybe it was the touch-starved part of yourself that was talking, longing to be held in someone's arms after being neglected by so many for so long.

"Watch your step here, my dear." His voice snapped you out of your thoughts, peering up at him to see this a pale hand was held out to assist you. You gladly took hold of it, fingers grasping his colder ones. Even as he helped you over a few jagged rocks in your path, you weren't willing to let go just yet. Although his skin was cold, his touch felt inviting and comforting.

You didn't want to let go yet.

And it seemed that Karamatsu was overjoyed by this, his eye glistening with a kind of happiness that you had never seen a human hold before.

"A-Are you afraid, sweetheart? There is nothing to fear, not as long as I am here by your side! However, if you wish to hold me tightly, I will never object you!" The slight tremor of nervousness in his words sounded so endearing to you.

"Good, because I wasn't planning to let go just yet."

You had never seen a human wear such a broad and satisfied smile, either. It was contagious, causing you to smile timidly up at him in return.

Eventually, though, your midnight stroll had to come to an end for the both of you. Karamatsu had led you to the beginning of the trail where, just a little further ways down, was a bus stop for you to get home.

"We have arrived, my angel."

"Ah... right," you mumbled, slight disappointment seeping through your tone. Karamatsu chuckled, his cat-like grin widening slightly.

"What is this? Is my fair maiden unwilling to let me go?"

"Something like that..." you mumbled, keeping your face directed towards the ground as you released your hold from his arm. Karamatsu's cheeks bloomed pink, a shade darker under the moonlight.

"A-Ah! Well," luckily, he was able to snap out of his surprised stupor, "Do not be so sullen, my moonbeam!"

'Moonbeam?'

"I'm sure the stars will align once again to reunite us as we journey through our lives together, and one day... One day, maybe..."

His bold tone suddenly simmered down to a gentle murmur, almost lost to the breeze if you weren't standing so close to him. A gentle smile was on his face now, his eyes glazed over in reminiscence of something akin to a far away daydream.

"I hope, one day, our paths cross again, my love."

His cold fingers caressed your own, lifting them up to press a chaste kiss onto your knuckles. It may have been brief, but the cold touch burned itself into your skin, lasting as he slowly, reluctantly, pulled away.

"Have a safe journey home, angel!" He grinned, saluting quickly before turning away, holding his flickering lantern before him to lead his way back into the forest he called his home.

You had no words left in you. They had all been snatched away by his comforting words and soft touches. His kind eyes, his dazzling smile. His glowing aura that led you through the darkness around you.

Ah, but good things never last long for you. You had to leave before you missed the next bus. You had leave this lonely, broken soul behind. Just like how he had no choice but to leave yours.

Turning away, you caught a glimpse of red from the corner of your eyes.

A trail of red spider lilies. Standing tall and blooming where he once stood a moment ago.

'Please... Meet me here again. One day.'

[nctrenjunie]

Questions ~ Jeno (M)

Author: Sera

Genre: Smut

Words: 2.5k

Comment: Hey, I´m sorry that this took so much time. Some of you might already know but I lost a lot of confidence in my writings the past months and I just couldn´t write. But I´m really really happy with this one and I would love to hear some Feedback please!! Next up is renjun!sub. AND THIS>>> ‼‼‼ is very important bcs I get rlly sad about stuff like this so please read. THANK U ALL ❤

Request: 

What time is it?

You wondered, analyzing the gloomy sky. Darker shades painted the right skyline and lighter shades the left due to the big skyscrapers rising up the sky. It almost looked like a canvas or more like a photograph that you could find hanging around in a rich man's apartment, no meaning whatsoever. 

What a view of modern culture a photograph like this could bring to someone's eyes?

There would be thousand of interpretations: the contrast between dark and light could symbolize the cliff between poor and rich, between nature and technology or between love and hate.     

But it scared you sometimes: The lack of interest you had in a stunning view that might change one's perspective of life. But for you there were plenty nights like this, where you would get the opportunity to stare blankly at the breathtaking skyline. Blanking your thoughts out made it easier, you could stare holes thru the sky similar to the void you felt deep inside your body in these nights. 

How could someone enjoy and interpret this superb view without sharing and clarifying their own analysis with someone else?

Perhaps it wasn't your lack of interest that made you fear your own blank thoughts but more over the cold bed sheets next to your side. The longer the bedside kept itself empty the more it reminded you of the big balcony windows through which a cold breeze passed its way into the enormous bedroom. You didn't feel cold tho, your body lying still, shivering once in a while. No, it wasn't coldness but a plain conventional feeling that crawled itself slowly into your body, reminding you of the Biedermeier period. 

Just as you thought your blank musing would stop a cold breeze passed over your body, bringing your hand instinctively down between your legs as you stretched your body out. Your actions made you taste a mild warmth from your core up to your body, forming into a warm shiver that crept itself through your whole figure.

When will he be here? 

You wondered. It must have been a busy day, or week or maybe month. You were sure you missed him but not since when. 

Looking at the ceiling you made out three scenarios in your head to prepare yourself for when the culprit of your coldness enters the room. A) Resisting your desire of warmth you ignore him totally, waiting on the bed for him, just to get up when he lays down, making your way out of the room. B) Trying to contain your anger you want to be left alone for some seconds but as he keeps bugging you, you lose your cool and start to scream out your frustration at his face. Or scenario C) You fail at rebelling against your bodies demand to let him fill you with warmth so seeing him enter the bedroom you greet him with a lust filled french kiss.

You couldn't even come to the point of counting the seconds, waiting for his arrival. Instead, loud footsteps and a drained groan echoed through the gigantic apartment, getting louder with every step as he approached the bedroom. Irritated by the loud turning doorknob, your body decided on its own to stay on the bed, untroubled by the well-built figure that just entered the cold room. 

Suddenly you felt drenched out, tired. Probably not from the other person's presence, but the energy your body planned to put into scenario C) seemed to have left your body the second you looked into his pretty face. 

What a view you might say! round but sharp jawline followed by a pair of long lush lips and a large but snub nose that you loved to peck in the morning. Sadly this angelic face wasn't as bewitching as it should be owing to the blood trickling out of his nose. It took you some seconds to realize that this wasn't the baddest part. The thick substance stuck halfway dried onto his hands, trickling slowly down his veins.   

 Mustering his eyes you noticed a special light into his eyes, letting you now that he needed love. Jeno kept his eyes on you. It was a drained out look, driven by thoughts and questions. Quite confused you must say. An unknown power pressed you down onto the bed, leaving you move less as you watched your love walk into the bathroom. 

It definitely was a questionable silence. Although you could hear the sink running through the bathroom door you made sure to throw scenario A) and B) out of your mind, awaiting the moment Jeno walks out of the bathroom to join you. 

He noticed you mustering his arms down to his hands. There was no scar or blood trace, letting you know it wasn't his dried blood you saw earlier. It didn't scare you tho, at least not like his stern face, tired and confused. 

What is he thinking about?

There wasn't enough time for you to think about that as he called out your name, leaving thick air between both of you.

“Could you come here for a second..darling?”

Taking your time you stood up from the gigantic bed, hesitantly making your way over to him. Your legs trembled a little bit due to the realisation that it must've gotten colder in here. Jenos hand grabbed you gently, pulling you close to him with a little force. A fresh smell filled your nostrils. Observing his face there weren't any blood splashes or scratches left, besides a tiny bit of dried blood coming out of his right nostril. Although the blood touched image of him didn't scare you it seemed that he was disturbed by his own actions today. He mustered you clearly for some time, hands around your hips, trying to find some sort of negative reaction inside your eyes.

Giving him his time to reflect you tried to burn every centimeter of him into your head. His bewitching face made you feel a different kind of warmth. He was shirtless making you anticipate the rest of the night. Black messy hair, broad shoulders, toned abs but not to much and a pair black jeans sitting perfectly onto his hip bones toning his waist in some kind of magical way. Oh god this man drove you fucking crazy. You made sure to go with his rhythm, knowing his sensible mood. He would put away his Glock18 wasn't hanging down his belt. It was one of these nights where he would put away even the smallest weapon away, tired of businesses and fights. 

"Tell me, what's on your mind baby?"

Jeno didn't give you an answer. Instead, this night was made for him to question you and every part of your body. His left hand moved up, slowly and trembling slightly as if he feared to touch you.

"Answer me, can I caress your cheek without feeling you tremble in fear?"

Some might be scared of him but you would never. It perplexed you, almost annoyed you that he asked such a question. Encouraging him to lay his hand onto your cheek you put your hand over his. His soft hand then landed onto your cheek, gently rubbing over your skin. Wanting more of this warm feeling you decided to tap your other hand slowly over his toned belly, up to his shoulder before lying it down behind his neck. Playing with his hair you broke the silence.

"Your hair has gotten longer, I've missed you."

Ignoring his anxious thoughts of you fearing him you continued going through his hair. A small kiss landed on your lips, to short to make it seem enjoyable but enough to unleash a spark. A small moment that made him into the adorable person he is. 

Both of your hands were now in his hair, playing with it wildly, messing it up. Jeno pulled you closer, a gentle but impactful move, his hand kept caressing your cheek and his lips pecked yours shortly before moving down your neck. Expecting some hickey causing kisses you were surprised by short lovely pecks against your sensible skin. Pulling you even closer he embraced you in a tight hug. Kind of surprised you loosened your hands out off his now tangled hair to embrace him.

Going with the flow you waited for his next move. You wouldn't like to explain it as plain  warmth what you felt right now. It was something more powerful, bewitching like a spell. Both of his hands decided it is time to move down your back, sliding down to your ass and back up to your hips. Using them as his guidance he turns you around, pressing your back against his toned abs. A unexpected hand painted a light coloured breeze over your neck before planting dark kisses onto the same spot. Laying your head onto his shoulder Jeno left out a light chuckle. Taking advantage of your relaxed form he plastered more kisses onto your skin, variating between your neck, collarbone and cheek. On some occasions his right hand moved up to bring your lips closer to his. Soft, sweet, rough and sinful kisses were shared. Although the kisses started to get steamier there was still a lovable and caring tension between you and him.

“If I move a little further down your belly, will you moan for me?”

You were breathing extra loud between the kisses. You noticed the change in motion: His right hand moving down your bodyline, over your navel before stopping right on your core. His left hand continued on, moving into the opposite direction to cup your already bare chest. A whimper left your lips owing to him groping your breast softly and a faint pair of teeth biting into your shoulder before licking over the soft abused skin. You  noticed how wet you were with only your underwear on and his hand laying calmly over your core. Tired you animated to move one hand up into his hair.

“Tell me, do you like it if I touch you there?”

Jeno smiled satisfied, feeling you tighten the grasp on his hair as two of his fingers moved slowly down the slit of your core. Playing with your wetness tiny moans left your lips bit by bit. Taking his hand out of your panties he moved his hand up, licking your fluids off his fingers before moving them down again. This time he rubbed a little harder, using your wetness to circulate your clit. Taking your now longer moans as a yes to his question Jeno kept going. You felt your nipples getting harder owing to jenos finger rubbing sensually. You wanted to cum so bad, your body stimulated all over, pulsing from your head all the way down to your core. Your moans became louder as you concentrated on your release. Jeno kept you close to him, stopping you from squirming away from his touches. A harder grasp around his hair and your fast lifting chest indicated your orgasm. Jeno rode out your high, sticking two of his fingers into your pussy and taking them out fastly before repeating his action a few times.

“You're beautiful Y/N.”

Your were sweating against him, his hand still in your underwear whilst his other hand moved your lips to his. A sensual and superb kiss was shared before you had to part due to the lack of air. Although, you still got a glimpse of your own taste from his lips. Picking you up Jeno moved you onto the bed. You were laying there, tired and still out of breath. The skyscrapers illuminated Jenos left side more than the other one. 

If you had the chance you would've taken a picture right here and then. What a beautiful view! It would have looked stunning on the big wall down to the kitchen. Some people might see it as a obscene or pervert picture but for you it would've been a masterpiece.

Jeno between both of your legs, an almost golden light illuminating his form in a unique way you could observe it your whole life. Really messy hair and sweat droplets rolling down his tense face. His lips 1 centimeter a gape giving a preview of the teeth that bit sinfully into your shoulder. His eyes filled with his thousand sins and pure love only for you. Strong muscular biceps and toned veins moving down his underarms to his perfect marmored hands that were fidgeting with his belt before throwing it carefree onto the floor. He looked marvellous, like a ancient greek god and you knew you were his muse. 

Getting rid of the rest of his clothing Jeno moved closer to you. You rubbed up and down his already erected cock as he hovered over you to connect your lips again. Teeth biting on your lips before intertwining his tongue with yours. You felt some precum on your hand. Placing himself in front of your entrance Jeno put you in a more comfortable position, making sure that you're feeling good. His louder breaths became more silent looking you deep in the eyes with his dark brown orbs.

“Let me know, am I allowed to treat you like my queen tonight?”

Moving both of your hands up to his face you pulled him down, pressing a short sloppy kiss onto his so kissable lips. A small smile spread itself over your lips.

“Yes Jeno, yes you are allowed.”

Taking in your words you felt his erect member enter you returning your kiss with a longer one. The kiss was interrupted multiple times by both of your heavy breaths and moans. Penetrating you Jeno kept a steady tempo, holding your head to make sure you're not gonna hit it against the headboard for when he starts to get a little rougher. You couldn't describe the erotic feeling that moved its way from your core onto the rest of your body into words but your screams and pants made it pretty clear. Closing your eyes made you feel everything ten times harder. Jeno moaned through gritted teeth, panting your name sometimes too as one of his hand moved up to go back to knead one of your breast. To put the cherry on top jenos tongue came down to one of your bud. Rolling back your eyes you made sure to let him know that you were about to cum. 

Jeno took both of your legs. Knowing how close both of your orgasms are he put them on his shoulder. Grabbing the opportunity he pounded into your pussy from another angle making sure to hit your G-spot. Not being able to wait anymore you released a second time. Riding out your orgasm Jeno became more sloppier, pounding a few more times before pulling out and releasing onto your belly. A special kind of warmth was shared between both of you.

Both panting for some time he laid next to you now. The skyscrapers illuminated the gigantic bedroom. You plastered a kiss onto his cheek with your last energy. Both of you closed your eyes, chests heaving up and down.

“Speak up, will you promise me to stay by my side?”

“Yes, yes I will Jeno.”

[wordsablaze]

9~ i’ve been in denial

tell me your problems (i’ll chase them away) Internal scars can be difficult to deal with but Eskel vows to heal any that Jaskier is weighed down by if it’s the last thing he does…

A/N: this was meant to be angsty but it’s festive season n all so here’s the most fluff we can get rn <3

@random-nerd-3 @betaray-jones @w-s-kibela @in-love-with-writing002 @screaming-flapjacks @blueboobutterfly @havenoffandoms @lasaga666​

previous chapter

-

“Hey, Jaskier?” Eskel asks as they reach their room.

Jaskier hums, perching on the edge of the bed and all but peeling his boots off, making a face at the way his feet free themselves with a soft squelching noise.

“Why haven’t you changed clothes yet?” Eskel continues, not exactly sure what he’d been expecting but definitely not having expected the way Jaskier freezes, his pulse spiking.

It’s almost alarming how quickly Jaskier manages to turn his panic into a grin. “I’ve been reliably informed that this blue really brings out my eyes and I don’t see any reason not to flaunt that. Certainly helps with bargaining for another drink, you know?”

“No, I don’t,” Eskel replies slowly.

Jaskier laughs brightly, too brightly. “Well, yes, I suppose witchers don’t often have to rely on their sense of fashion for coin, what with the whole monster-hunting business and-”

“Jas.”

“-the twin swords you all seem to carry. I mean really, they’re very intimidating to most people and while they may be useful, they’re not exactly in style. At least you’ve got a splash of colour rather than-”

“Jaskier.”

“-just black, not that there’s anything wrong with black but it does often give the impression you’re dressed for a funeral and that’s a pretty morbid picture to paint for yourself! Unless it’s Valdo Marx’s funeral, which would truly be a momentous occasion if you ask-”

“Jaskier!”

The bard flinches.

Eskel exhales softly, trying his best to cause any kind of panic. “I’m not mad, I’m just… I’m just worried. You almost drowned in those clothes and you’re gonna make yourself ill if you don’t wear something clean and dry.”

A small smile blooms on Jaskier’s face but he shakes his head anyway. “I- uhm, I… I don’t have anything else… with me.”

It’s not that Eskel hadn’t already guessed that, at least deep down, but it hurts to hear the confession anyway. “Then you should borrow something of mine,” he says before he can change his mind about his decision.

Jaskier’s eyes widen as he looks towards Eskel like he’s just offered up the moon itself. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“I’m sure,” Eskel confirms before gesturing to where his bags are in the corner of the room. “You can just, uh, choose something you like. I’m afraid I don’t have bright colours but I do own more than funeral clothes.”

This time Jaskier’s laugh is genuine and he wastes no time in making his way over to the bags, carefully shuffling things around inside one before pulling out a black shirt that has long since faded into a soft, dark blue. The breeches he finds are just a shade darker but they match enough for him to look good when Eskel turns around again. Really good. In fact, he looks so good that Eskel suddenly understands what that woman from his last contract had been talking about when she’d said seeing her wife in her clothes was a truly magical experience.

“That bad?” Jaskier asks, half-laughing but clearly not very amused if the sour scent of worry is anything to go by.

Eskel shakes his head, forgetting how to use words for a second. “No, no. Not bad at all, it’s just… I didn’t think my clothes could ever look so good.”

And he’s not even lying. He is surprised that his ordinary clothes can seem so fashionable even if that’s probably a result of Jaskier generally being Jaskier and he’s even more surprised to realise that, even though they’re clearly big for him, they don’t just comically hang off him - Geralt certainly hadn’t mentioned that his- that the bard is built so well.

The red that floods Jaskier’s face most definitely does not match his new outfit but Eskel thinks it looks stunning all the same. Not that he says that aloud, no, he’s taken to biting his tongue so he doesn’t say anything else stupid and scare off his favourite bard.

“I think I’m going to use the stars as an excuse to sleep again. Could you-” he bites his lip for a moment, “-uhm, that is, could you try and be back here for when I wake up?”

Eskel frowns, letting go of his tongue. “Back here?”

Jaskier exhales softly, shakily. “Or not. I mean, of course you must not be tired again since witchers don’t need as much sleep anyway but I- you mentioned travelling on together?”

Ah, so they’re not over the doubt yet.

“Are you losing your memory, bardling, or do you still remember what we discussed at the table earlier?” Eskel asks, trying his best to sound like he’s teasing instead of insulting.

Jaskier’s eyebrows furrow as he bites his lip and Eskel simply waits, smiling softly when Jaskier’s eyes eventually widen and his scent softens into hope and relief. “When you said you’d choose me?”

Nodding, Eskel gestures to the bed. “I meant it, and now I’ve chosen to forget my bedroll again.”

With a pointed glance at Eskel’s bags by his feet, Jaskier raises an eyebrow. “Is that your attempt at flirting me into bed, darling?

Really not having predicted that kind of response, Eskel’s mind decides to stop functioning for a moment. He would be embarrassed but the way Jaskier laughs makes him reconsider his urge to flee and just shrug instead. Neither of them say anything else as they settle under the blanket again but a soft gasp escapes Eskel when Jaskier curls around him bit by bit until they’re almost entirely pressed together from Eskel’s chin resting on Jaskier’s head to their feet locked around one another’s. It’s the closest Eskel has ever been with anyone outside of Kaer Morhen’s cold winters spent huddled in front of the hearth and he can’t stop the smile that takes over his face.

“Promise you won’t leave while I’m asleep?” Jaskier asks sleepily.

“I promise I’ll be here when you wake up,” Eskel confirms, wanting not for the first and probably not the last time to literally knock some remorseful sense into Geralt’s thick skull.

“Thank you,” Jaskier mumbles just before he drifts off, most likely missing the way Eskel quietly confesses that it’s his pleasure.

He doesn’t sleep for even a second, he doesn’t need to after all the sleeping they’ve done in the past few days, but he does let himself relax and true to his word, he doesn’t move a muscle until Jaskier stirs again.

“Hello there,” Jaskier yawns, grinning up at him before he rolls out of Eskel’s arms and stretches his limbs as if he were a cat.

Eskel hums, returning the bard’s smile. “How do you feel?”

He already knows that Jaskier will feel better, it’s obvious that he would after sleeping off the siren-induced exhaustion, but it only feels right to ask. Besides, Jaskier’s eyes light up when he does and the warmth of his happiness fuels Eskel’s own.

“Like I could survive a lightning strike,” Jaskier replies theatrically, and Eskel can’t stop the snort that escapes him. Thankfully, Jaskier only rolls his eyes. “Well alright, if you want it in simple terms then I suppose I feel great, much better, well-rested, all of those plain descriptions.”

“What’s wrong with being plain?” Eskel asks, turning onto his side and resting his head on one palm just in time to see Jaskier glare at him like an overly passionate professor would at a hopelessly dispassionate student.

“I have never been plain a day in my life and I certainly do not intend to start now! Do you know how many ways there are to describe waking up, Eskel? I could list them for hours and still not be finished! And not to mention that after you have what may very well be one of the best nights of sleep you’ve had in years- no, decades, that you really cannot be satisfied with anything even close to a prosaically plain answer!”

Jaskier looks ready to fight someone to prove his point but all Eskel can focus on is that someone would want to poetically declare a night with him one of the best nights of sleep they’ve had in not even years but decades. He’d be lying if he said that, minus the sleeping part, he doesn't feel the exact same way.

“Eskel, are you even listening to me?” Jaskier whines, poking his cheek.

He blinks, bringing his attention back to Jaskier with a genuine smile. “I think I get your point, though I’m no bard and will have to make do with being plain.”

Jaskier scoffs. “You, plain? I think not. Have you even looked in a mirror recently?”

While Eskel is busy trying to recall the last time he’d looked in a river and wondering if catching his reflection in his ale counts, Jaskier springs off the bed with a nervous laugh. “I um, I didn’t mean any offence by that, truly, I was just…”

“I don’t own a mirror,” Eskel says, politely overlooking how worried Jaskier seems to look for some reason and the way he’s anxiously rubbing his fingertips together the way he tends to do when he’s expecting the worst.

“Then we’ll be needing a trip to the market,” Jaskier replies easily, the tension in his expression melting into both amusement and disbelief. Eskel doesn’t usually like going to the market on account of the not quite subtle stares and not quite hushed whispers, but he might be looking forward to it this time.

“Right now?” Eskel asks, which prompts Jaskier to remember he’s still wearing Eskel’s borrowed clothes and flush red again; Jaskier points an accusing finger at him but dissolves into laughter before he can say anything, laughing for so long that Eskel wonders if he’s gone mad. Finally, he shakes his head and pulls on his doublet, the lighter blue somehow working well with the rest of the outfit.

Eskel stays still, watching as Jaskier weaves his fingers through his hair so it sweeps to one side and pulls on his boots before picking up his lute and winking. “Might be useful to gather a little extra coin first. There’ll be food waiting for you if you decide you want to listen to more of my singing.”

As if there’s even the slightest possibility that he wouldn’t.

Still, Jaskier’s footsteps have long since faded when Eskel finally sits up and wonders how he so quickly went from leaving at the first hint of dawn to waiting for a bard to buy him a mirror. Not that he’s complaining, he might have a mean poker face but even he couldn’t pretend that finding a plateful of food waiting for him on a quiet corner table doesn’t warm his heart.

He doesn’t know what the song is about this time but it sounds lovely all the same, although not quite as lovely as the bright smile Jaskier sends his way when he notices him. He has all of three seconds to wonder what the mischievous look in those bright blue eyes is about before Jaskier starts singing about the rose of the wolves - about him - again, which leads to everyone raising their tankards at him even if they’re only half-awake.

“You don’t have to sing about me every time I enter the room,” Eskel tells him as he finishes up.

Jaskier shrugs, making sure his now-cased lute is balanced safely before slumping into the seat opposite him in yet another confusing but endearing show of priorities. “It’s the least I can do.”

No, it’s really not.

“I appreciate it,” Eskel says warmly, not sure he’d win in trying to convince Jaskier that he’s done far more than is expected of anyone for witchers, whether or not he’d initially meant to. Another day, perhaps.

“The markets will open soon, are you ready?” Jaskier asks once they near the end of their meals.

Eskel raises an eyebrow as if to remind Jaskier that witchers are known to always be ready for anything. Jaskier offers him a sheepish grin. “Yes, yes, I know you all have enhanced everything and all but what I meant is, do you want to go right now?”

He finishes his drink before replying. “Lead the way, bardling.”

Jaskier grins so widely that Eskel is afraid his face may crack. But all that happens is Jaskier practically inhales whatever is left of his food before rising to his feet and slinging the lute case over his shoulder. He’d ask why Jaskier is taking his lute with him but he knows the question would be thrown right back at him regarding the twin swords on his back so he doesn’t say anything, merely gesturing for Jaskier to lead the way and trying not to make it obvious how momentarily overwhelming he finds the subsequent scent of joy.

“I am going to find you the best mirror, darling, I swear!” Jaskier declares happily, and Eskel doesn’t have the heart to tell him he’s probably never going to actually use such an object.

-

almost 22k and they're only just barely flirting, send help- no but really, i can’t believe the year is ending before any of my wips, oops :p

-

thanks for reading! masterlist | witcher sideblog: @itsjaskier | next chapter

[newtafterdark]

Taste of Metal - Chapter 10: Sweet Beans AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26157634/chapters/66411679 What if the overwhelming VR experience Gordon went through, had a deeper purpose than just being a simple simulation & a freelance debug job for him?But most importantly- what if Gordon Freeman listens to Metal & used to be in a band? aka. the “Metalhead Gordon AU”

- - The digital clock on the wall said 4:36 PM. 

 Gordon was laying on the futons in the living room, limbs lazily stretched out and staring at the ceiling. Most members of the Science Team were currently preparing dinner in the kitchen, supervised by Joshua.

 The past few days had been... certainly something. It felt like he had attempted speedrunning several different things at the same time because there was an unsettling feeling of time running out fast for something if he didn't. 

 He knew that was his anxiety. The feeling of too little time for anything, his thoughts running 88 miles per hour, sending him down rabbit holes of thoughts and worries. Especially, since his last job for Black Mesa had him mess up his medication schedule during his time in the simulation. He was slowly getting back to what he considered his personal normal state... and it was honestly a relief. 

 Gordon turned his head to the side, acknowledging Benrey, who was sitting beside him on a pillow, Gordon's injured arm gently laying on his open palms as he was applying a new layer of healing sweetvoice to it. 

His arm was significantly better now. Still sensitive to touch, but all in all healing. Though he had to admit that the scars that had been forming in the process were... unique. 

 The edge of where the mess started was more akin to what he had expected - lighter coloured slightly bumpy lines & patches where the skin had been damaged. 

 But the area where it had been an open wound? That's where it looked... unusual. It looked like a protective layer of flesh & skin had formed where it shouldn't have without a proper surgery. The skin there was just as light as the scarring on the edge... but it felt new. Sensitive. And a certain amount of weird because... well, this simply wasn't what a human body would do on its own during a healing process.

 Then again... his body had been getting help with the whole thing-

 Gordon closed his eyes and let out a soft hum, almost harmonizing with Benrey holding a steady note beside him, as the cool sweetvoice hit his arm. 

 He hadn't really had the time to ponder over the fact that he was sharing his apartment with several non-humans... but laying on a comfy futon, having to hold still and wait for Benrey to be done sweetvoicing at him - yeah, that sounded like a good time as any.

 Well, until he noticed that Benrey stopped singing. He opened one eye, seeing Benrey looking at him with a questioning look on his face, his head slightly tilted to the left.

 "Yo, you gonna space out on me with 'em big thoughts?", Benrey asked.

 Gordon chuckled at that. 

 "I told you once and I'll tell you again - your sweetvoice is good. Helpful and... just really relaxing. Helps my brain shut up about the painful shit and lets me focus on things I actually want to think about. Can't help it, my dude.", he said with a shrug and a soft smile.

 "Huh.", was all Benrey said, keeping eye contact with Gordon.

 The human in question blinked up at the guard.

 "If you want... I can tell you my thoughts while you do... uh... the healing thing? No need to reply to me, just... I don't know, me rambling for a bit?"

 Now it was Benrey's turn to blink - and to Gordon's surprise similarly to a lizard, an eye-lid-like part of eyes closing over them sideways.

 "... that's so fucking cool...", Gordon whispered in awe, staring at Benrey with wide eyes.

 "Whu- What?"

 "The thing your eyes do when you blink! I... I guess I was never close enough to actually notice it. It just looks cool, is all I'm saying."

 "W-Wow, Gordon Flirtman here trying to butter me up with the compliments?"

 Despite his quick retort, Benrey visibly turned a shade darker and averted his eyes, letting out a few pink orbs of sweetvoice before returning to the healing teal.

 Gordon let out an amused huff, resting his free arm behind his head and looking back at the ceiling.

 "Look, I just appreciate all the cool non-human things you and the others can do. I... I don't know how much of it was just part of the simulation and what you can do now that you're free again... but it's simply exciting to me!"

 He heard a slightly deeper-pitched tone coming from Benrey, somehow making him feel like it was okay to continue talking.

 "So many terrifying things crawled out of the Breach over the past years... all with the goal to destroy and to conquer. The Kaiju and every other creature related to them were all I had for reference for non-human beings for a long time. Aside from Joshua, of course, but you get what I mean."

 Benrey let out a few notes that sounded similar to a soft "Uh-huh". 

Gordon continued. 

 "But as scary as you guys think you are... and as you can be-"

 Gordon turned his head towards Benrey once more.

 "- Thank you for being you. Silly, obnoxious, chaotic and kind. And for showing me that not everything you can find beyond portals and in shady labs is something I should fear forever. That I needed to learn to listen and learn, again. To understand. To actually be the kind of scientist I always wanted to be."

 They sat there for a while, Benrey laser-focused on Gordon's arm, a few stray orbs of sweetvoice remaining in the air between them as he eventually closed his mouth.

 "I did a good... thing? By being- uh, me?", Benrey eventually stuttered out, still gently holding Gordon's arm in his hands. 

 Gordon nodded.

 "No one told you to apologize to me after everything - even when I told you not to worry- but you did so anyway and on your own accord. Not to mention you are actively helping me heal physically since the moment you guys found me."

 He reached over, resting his hand on Benrey's knee.

 "You may not be human, Benrey... but you are a person who tries to make up for the things they fucked up. And that's a good thing, in my book."

 Benrey's brows were furrowed as he slowly nodded.

 "I'm.... n-not a bad guy? All the time?"

 "You're a menace with Gremlin energy at worst, at this point."

 That made Benrey snort, Gordon laughing softly in return. 

 "Uh, feed me snacks 24/7 and I'll be the greatest cool!", Benrey added with a grin.

 "That's not how Gremlins work!", Gordon wheezed, moving his hand and pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to keep himself from breaking out into loud laughter.

 "Only got the energy, bro. Am not small or fuzzy... right now."

 Gordon slowly sat up, intrigued by the implications of those last two words. He opted to sit cross-legged, radiating curiosity and excitement as his hand was drumming away on his thigh.

 "Shapeshifting... Shapeshifting!! Okay, okay! Tell me when I get too personal with my questions but... uh... you can change your appearance not just in size? Holy shit man, that's... that's WILD!"

 Benrey stared at Gordon with wide eyes for a second, taken off-guard by the man's excitement for his more out-there powers. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously - something he had observed Gordon doing sometimes and added to his own mannerisms. 

 "Yeah, uh, character creation ain't perma-locked. Can access that anytime I want. Makes me tired when I do it too much... but it's cool.", he said, then looking somewhat unsure- "Would you... be a big cool with me doing that? Around here? SMALL WAYS! N-No big Benny. Just... feel comfy here. To do that, I mean."

 Gordon smiled at that, reaching over to place a hand on Benrey's shoulder. 

 "Dude, as long as you don't go full horror and accidentally scare the shit out of any of us, go ahead. I don't know... what you have in mind with "small ways"... but I am curious, so... go ham."

 "You sure? Is right now okay?"

 "Uh... if you want, yeah!"

 Gordon was about to remove his hand to give Benrey some space, but within the blink of an eye Benrey's hands looked... almost paw-like. His fingertips ended in dull claws, while the skin on his hands had a slight gradient to them, reminding Gordon of the ever-present shadow on Benrey's face. He let out a soft gasp-

 "Holy SHIT?!- Let me see?? Can I touch them?"

 "Huh? Ain't nothing fancy, but sure."

 Gordon mirrored Benrey's previous gentleness with his arm as he now carefully took one of Benrey's hands (paws?) in his own.

 "Wow...", Gordon breathed, slowly turning it over-

"HOLY FUCK YOU HAVE BEANS????? PAW BEANS?"

 Benrey let out a crackle at that but nodded. 

 "Sometimes, 'cause it makes stuff easier. Climbing and holding shit and all that. Got that perfect gamer grip."

 "..."

 Benrey tilted his head at Gordon's sudden silence. 

 "Uh... ?"

 Gordon looked up from staring at Benrey's hand, the biggest smirk on his face. 

 "So... you got paw beans."

 "Y-Yeah?"

 "Which means you also have toe beans-"

 "What you talking about Feetm-"

 "Beanrey."

 "Wha-"

 "BEANREY!"

 "NO!", Benrey exclaimed through already starting to laugh, as Gordon fell back on the futon wheezing, barely managing out a "YES!" in reply.

[nearlymanaged]

4. Remus’ Secret

It had been a couple of weeks since Sirius had come out to his friends, but Moony still hadn’t flung himself into his arms, confessing unbridled attraction. If anything, he seemed more distant now. Almost as distant as he used to get every month before Sirius, James, and Peter found out about his furry little secret. They did have quite different schedules this year that sometimes caused them to not run into each other for half a day, but Remus’ strange coldness seemed to go beyond that.

Sirius was starting to feel a little hurt, thinking that maybe Remus wasn’t as okay with him being bisexual as he claimed, so he confronted him about it one evening in the common room. It turned out to be a rather anticlimactic exchange since Remus assured him, quite convincingly, that it was completely ridiculous of Sirius to even think that. He said he was simply tired all the time since they had come back to Hogwarts and then made some stupid joke about being ready for death to take him.

This particular evening he seemed perfectly energised and happy while doing homework with Evans in the corner of the common room. Sirius was sitting in one of the prime armchairs in front of the fireplace with James and Peter, and if he hadn’t been so preoccupied with repeatedly stealing glances at Moony and Evans, he would have seen that James was doing the same thing.

“Since when is Moony such good friends with Evans?” Peter unknowingly voiced what they were all thinking when the sound of Remus and Lily’s laughter filled the room momentarily.

“Nerd solidarity, I suppose,” Sirius mumbled, watching Remus push the sleeves of his jumper up, seemingly oblivious to how unexpectedly attractive that was.

“I never realised Ancient Runes homework was that much fun,” James mumbled, pouting slightly.

“Are you jealous, Prongs?” Sirius asked, a tickled grin spreading across his face.

“Aw, he is! Prongs is jealous!” Cackled Peter.

Just then, Remus walked over to them, still beaming. “Prongs is…” He glanced back at Lily over his shoulder. “Prongs is jealous?”

“No, I’m not,” James folded his arms over his chest, which didn’t help make his statement any more convincing.

“How curious,” Remus said brightly and made himself comfortable on the couch next to Peter while Sirius draped himself across the armchair, his head hanging off the side.

“D’you know what? I’m jealous too.” He looked over at Remus with a smirk.

“That’s messed up, Sirius. Lily’s the mother of James’ future children.”

“Who said anything about Evans?” Sirius locked eyes with Remus, that same smile still playing on his lips. For a second, Black thought he saw Moony blush, but he couldn’t tell whether it was just the flickering fire light playing tricks. Moony scrunched his eyebrows and turned away to point at the notice board.

“Did you lot see that? Hogsmeade dates have been posted.”

“Yeah, first one’s in a couple of weeks.” Peter nodded. “I’ve thought about this, and I think the best thing for me to do is ask Lydia if she wants to meet up in Three Broomsticks. Then she won’t feel like she has to spend the whole day with me...but if she wanted to, she could.”

“Wormtail.” Sirius impatiently propped himself back up. “Why wouldn’t she want to spend the day with you? You need to have more confidence, mate.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“No, it’s not. You think it was easy for me to listen to my dear mother list all the ways in which I’m a disappointment for years?”

“I didn’t mean--”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just saying, you can’t please everyone, but you can’t let that get to you. Lydia seems pretty interested in you, and even if it doesn’t work out in the end, well...c'est la vie,” Sirius ended his little pep talk with a shrug and Peter went back to his essay, looking slightly more bewildered than before.

“Anyway,” Remus enunciated slowly. “Perfect timing, I have just about enough chocolate to last me two weeks.”

* * *

The heavy clouds above the castle seemed to be turning a darker shade of grey every day, and the sixth years were becoming more and more stressed with every lesson. Now that Remus had positively become friends with Lily Evans, he was thanking his lucky stars for it. He strongly suspected he might have lost his mind without someone to do Ancient Runes homework with.

He also noticed that Lily didn’t mind being in James’ immediate vicinity as much anymore, and James in turn had halted his incessant hitting on her for the time being. Remus had also noticed that Sirius hadn’t been spotted snogging or asking anyone out in quite a while; in fact, it hadn’t happened once since the beginning of term. He couldn’t help but harbour a secret hope that it would go on indefinitely and then he wouldn’t have to pretend that seeing Sirius with someone else didn’t bother him.

Although realistically, he didn’t really count on that. Especially since Sirius had come out about being bisexual. That just meant that now Sirius could choose out of twice the amount of people who were more attractive than his boring old friend.

Still, Remus could not refrain from coming up with imaginary scenarios in his head, in which Sirius would ask him out or confess his feelings for him, or kiss him… Initially, completely against his own will, Remus let his hopes go up just a tiny bit (that’s when the daydreaming started in full force), so he started avoiding Padfoot as a means of self preservation. That hadn’t lasted very long though, because Sirius interpreted that as Remus having a problem with him and confronted him about it...

This particular morning, a few days before the Hogsmeade trip, saw the castle brutally whipped by ice-cold rain. It was looking like their Saturday was going to be spent sipping butterbeer indoors instead of wandering around the village.

“You’ve got jam on your face, did you know?” Sirius grabbed a napkin without missing a beat, leaned over the breakfast-laden table, and dabbed the corner of Remus’ mouth. “There you go, skip along now, my love.”

Remus, who had just announced that he needed to leave to make it to Ancient Runes on time, felt his ears go ablaze, the colour spreading to his cheeks. He wasn’t sure why it startled him so much. Surely, Sirius would have done the same to either James or Peter, wouldn’t he have? That was just how he was. “Right,” Remus cleared his throat, gathering his composure. “I’ll see you lot at lunch then.”

“Wait up, Lupin!” Lily caught up with him in the middle of the entrance hall. “So I’ve noticed…” She began brightly, yet hesitantly but then trailed off. “Are...are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, what do you mean…” Remus tried to sound normal, very aware that he was still blushing. “What have you noticed?”

“Nothing. How did you get on with the Einang stone essay?”

They talked about their homework all the way to the sixth floor, but Remus couldn’t shake off the feeling that Lily was going to say something about the scene at breakfast. He wasn’t even sure that Peter and James had noticed it, but he had gathered by now that Lily was a lot more perceptive than most people. Plus, she kept giving him strange looks all throughout the Ancient Runes lesson and then it continued on the very windy grounds (it had stopped raining), during Care of Magical Creatures.

“Obviously, you don’t need to answer if you don’t want to, but...” Lily began, her voice ever so gentle, while they were making detailed sketches of fwoopers with notes about all their magical properties. “But can I ask you something personal?”

“You can ask, yes.”

“Do you like boys?”

Remus stared at her with a mixture of surprise and horror, until he felt a sharp pain in his hand - he had squeezed the little bird he was using for reference so tightly that it pecked at his flesh angrily. “Why-- Why do you ask?” He tried to sound politely surprised as he shook his hand in the air.

“Please don’t get upset with me,” Lily was gazing at him tentatively with her brow furrowed now. “I’ve noticed a while ago now, sometime last year… And then lately, since you and I... I couldn’t help it, really. I’ve seen the way you look at him, when you think that no one’s watching…”

Remus felt a strange mixture of his heart sinking and feel lighter all at once. Now that someone else knew, it felt like that would make it easier to carry this secret around, somehow. He blankly stared at his half finished sketch for a moment before speaking in a low, determined voice. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“You have my word.”

“Not that it matters anyway,” he added before he could stop himself.

“How do you mean? Is it because you’ve been friends for so long?”

“Well that too, but… I mean, look at me,” he laughed out uncomfortably rather with a roll of his eyes.

“Yes, I am…?”

“I’m about as exciting as Binns’ lessons, with a sweet bonus of ugly scars.”

Remus was surprised by how open he was with Lily. Curiously, it was really easy to talk to her about it. He’d shared so many secrets, confessions, and pains with his three friends, that sometimes he felt like he had maxed out, like he didn’t want to trouble them with any more of his problems. But it was different with Lily, perhaps because they were just becoming friends.

“I don’t think that about you at all, if you care to know,” she informed him, a strange spark lighting up her eyes. “I’ve grown to like you a lot lately and I can objectively say that you are tenfold better than what you seem to think about yourself.”

“You’re only saying that because you thought my friends and I were enormous pricks for years,” Remus smirked at her, feeling his heart grow to twice its size in his chest. “That’s a low bar.”

“Thought?” Lily grinned devilishly, making them both laugh. “Seriously, the more I’m getting to know you, the more I feel like maybe your friends can’t be all that awful after all. You are a beautiful person, Remus. You are!” She added when he rolled his eyes again.

“Sure, Evans.”

“I’ve heard he’s into boys too.” Lily ignored Lupin’s retort and then her face split into an excited smile.

Remus rolled his eyes once more… And yet, he couldn’t help but feel happier and lighter for the rest of the day, even when it started raining again towards the end of Cary of Magical Creatures.

[darksiderssin]

How do the horsemen react when their human s/o ,on a journey, all grim ridden takes a dip in a near by water source. Being no immediate danger and all. (Can be nsfw :) )

War: He'd noticed how uncomfortable you looked, being coated head to toe in dirt, and honestly felt a little bad about it, like he wasn't taking care of you properly- he wanted to preserve any human life he could find on what was left of your world, so it was natural that he felt bad not being able to even help you. Until, that is, you came across a large lake that looked safe by way of demonic activity or angelic patrols. A good place to camp for the night, you both decided- you with more enthusiasm. He'd gone off to hunt while you held down the fort (translation: took a bath). He came back to see you finishing up, honestly surprised when he saw you trying to clean your clothes in the buck- mind you, he loved you for your heart, but seeing you without the dirt and grime brought a tinge of red to the Red Rider's face. You noticed his presence when his shock made him drop the large Stalker corpse he'd brought back to eat, a little startled as you tried to cover yourself.

"Shit, I didn't notice you there, Red." You were blushing to the tips of your ears. "I'll, uh...I'll be done in a minute."

He shyly turned his eyes away. "...You look good."

You blinked at him, running a hand over your drying hair that had turned a few shades lighter after the wash as your face turned a few shades darker. "...Thanks." 

War took off the scarlet cowl around his shoulders and handed it to you in his golem hand. "Take this. While your clothes are drying." He tried to keep his eyes turned away as you took it, but it was obvious he was flustered. You honestly didn't think that was possible. He turned away and started to prepare his kill for dinner, trying to keep his back to you. After you'd cleaned the last of the grime out of your clothes, you wrapped the cowl around you and stepped over behind him, leaning over one colossal shoulder to peck his cheek.

"Thanks, Red."

Fury: The Black Horseman knew you'd left the camp to go and bathe, and so decided she'd go and check in on you, and maybe join you for a quick dip. She knew she'd find you naked, but she didn't expect you to look...better. She walked over to the lake to find you washing soaproot out of your hair and trying to untangle it using a hairbrush, which seemed painful from the way you grumbled and cursed as the bristles snagged on the knots, but damn, you were like a completely different person without the dirt- Fury could actually make out the colour of your hair and skin now, see your face, and all the small details on your body, from moles to marks and more- it was nice to just look at you from here, water still running down the contours of your form in rivulets. 

She smirked, leaning against the tree your clothes were hanging from. "Abyss, there's a person under the filth after all." 

You looked over at her, clearly unhappy with being interrupted from your much-needed grooming session. "Very funny," You grunted, continuing to force the knots out with the embattled brush. "But not helping."

Striding into the water, Fury took the brush from you, keeping that smirk as she took over the taming of your neglected locks. "Let me, Little Heart. Can't have you scalping yourself, now can we?" She pressed a patronising, but playful kiss to your head as you blushed, but you certainly didn't complain. 

Strife: You figured you'd show Strife ("Jones" as the others knew him by) your favourite little watering hole to clean up in while you were out on a supply run, making the argument that it would be a good place to stop and maybe scrub off whatever was caked onto your findings, the subtext suggesting that there was more to this jaunt than you were letting on. Of course, happy to have a moment alone with you, Strife agreed and followed you into the woods, and ended up at a lake a little bit north of town that seemed quiet enough. So he dropped the disguise, you both took your clothes off, and went splashing into the water together. The grime started to come away the more you played in the water, and then he was grinning for a different reason. 

"Damn, if you weren't already a snack," He remarked, biting his lip as his eyes wandered over your form. "I mean, you look great naked, but...wow."

You looked over at him with a smirk. "Jeez, at least wait 'til I'm dried off, Strife."

"I mean, I'm only gonna get you wet again." He joked. "So, not much point in that." And then you laughed, and he fell in love with you all over again as he pulled you into a kiss. Needless to say your return to Haven was...delayed.

Death: It was on the way up to the Drenchfort that the two of you came across a large pool of clear water, untouched by Corruption. It looked deep, and you were judging its depth when Death noticed that you'd taken an interest in this distraction. He would have spoken up to tell you to keep moving, but held his tongue when he made the connection that you were judging the depth of the water because of the state of you- half caked in mud and dust from head to toe. Ah. Deciding it wouldn't hurt to stop for a bit, he let you go and wash off the filth and he would probably go and talk to Vulgrim to give you some privacy in the meantime until conversation ran dry. Eventually Death had grown tired of Vulgrim and decided it was best to go and check on you, finding you naked and knee-deep in the water, washing your clothes while humming to yourself- he almost swore he was looking at a different person. He hadn't noticed the yellowing bruises and the cuts you'd tried to keep clean as best you could, some healing over into scars, and your skin and hair looked a shade lighter than it had been a moment ago. You looked better. Healthy. Death would have watched longer, had Dust not fluttered over to the shallows and started rolling around in the water and caused your gaze to snap to him over your shoulder. 

A dark blush rose on your face, and you tried to cover yourself with the sopping clothes. "Uh. Not a good time for laundry?" You attempted a smile, the gesture awkward.

Death shrugged and started shrugging off his attire as well, and you were too shocked to yell at him. He arched a brow at you. "You keep saying I smell. I might as well join you."

"B-but the Drenchfort--"

He held up a hand to silence you as he started to wade into the water, chuckling as you looked away. "It can wait." He set his hands on your shoulders. "It's not nice to tease, Cherished."

[lu-undy]

Chapter 55 - SBT

Here it is!

"Uh… Spook?" 

"Oui?" 

"I-I'd need to go to my van to get some clothes…"

Both men finished bathing. Mundy followed Lucien from the bathroom to the bedroom, each wearing nothing but a towel around their waists. 

"Nonsense. I will lend you some clothes for the night."

"For the night?" Mundy asked. 

"Unless you would rather go back to your van but-"

"No, I'd… I'd love to stay actually."

Their eyes met and they exchanged a smile. 

"Glad to hear it. Now, which color do you prefer, navy blue, light blue, Burgundy red or off-white?"

Overwhelmed by the choice, Mundy went for the last one he heard. 

"Off-white?"

"Interesting choice." Lucien passed him some pyjamas and a pair of underwear.

Mundy took them and realised it was a shirt and a pair of trousers, made of satin and matching of course. They had motifs of branches and leaves of fern sewn in, in white cotton. Lucien opted for the Burgundy one with golden sewn flower motifs. 

Each of them turned their back to the other and dressed up. Lucien was the first to finish, he turned to Mundy and heard him mumble and curse under his breath. 

"What is it, mon loup?"

[my wolf]

"It's the bloody buttons, I can't get them right, I always mess them up…"

"Let me help." Lucien moved in front of Mundy and did the buttons. "If you have any difficulty, start from the bottom and go to the top."

"Why would it be easier that way?" Mundy asked. "Doesn't make sense, does it?"

"But it does. The buttons at the bottom you can see easily, whereas the ones at the top are right under this lovely chin of yours." Lucien tickled it gently as he finished and Mundy chuckled. 

"Thanks…" 

"My pleasure."

Mundy looked down at himself. 

"Uh… We might have a problem, Spook?"

"What?" Lucien went to sit on the bed, with his back against the wall. 

"Well look at me…" Mundy wiggled his shoulders and pulled down the end of the shirt. "The sleeves are too short, and look down, the legs too! And if you don't mind, I'll open the buttons cause it's too tight on my shoulders."

"I would be an utter fool to complain when you want to sleep with your shirt open, Mundy."

"N-no, I mean, it's not like that, it's just your shirt's too small for me… Also, wait, what? You want me to sleep here?"

"Unless you prefer the rusticity of your campervan…" Lucien raised an eyebrow and Mundy shrugged. 

"Ok, I get it… But this time, don't take all the blanket, alright?" 

Mundy took the other side of the bed and both slid under the duvet.

"Me?! You were the one to steal it all night long and I had to pull it off your limbs!"

"As if…" Lucien answered and he stopped when the door to the bedroom creaked. 

"Meow." 

Perle trotted to the bed and jumped to climb on it. 

"Perle, mon bébé, you should really sleep in your bed tonight."

"Meow?" 

"Cause your dad wants me to sleep with him." Mundy answered and she went under his fingers. Yes, Papa knew how to choose his companion wisely, the scratching was divine.

"Meow…" She answered, disappointed, but started purring under the delightful head scratches.

"Don't worry, kitty cat, I'll take care of him. I'll keep him warm and safe, alright?" 

"Meow?" 

"O'course you can say goodnight to him, you'd better do it actually, he might be pissed off if you don't, eh." 

Perle went to Lucien and climbed his shirt to settle on his shoulder. He hugged her and kissed her repeatedly, saying sweet nonsense that Mundy could hardly understand. 

"Bonne nuit, mon bébé, fais de beaux rêves." 

[Good night, my baby, sweet dreams.]

He kissed her fur and put her down on the floor next to his side of the bed. To his greatest surprise, she climbed in her little cosy basket and curled into a ball of fur. 

When Lucien came back to lie down in the bed, Mundy wrapped his arms around him and pulled him to himself. 

"Ah, here we go for the clingy kangaroo."

"Oh alright then…!" Mundy let go of his lover and turned his back to Lucien. 

"Non, mon amour, please…!" The Frenchman spooned him and laced his arms around him. "Please turn to me…"

"The clingy kangaroo says no." 

"Mundy, please…" Lucien begged as he brushed his skin under his lover's open shirt. 

The Aussie melted. Hearing Lucien beg him to give him attention was something that his mind barely managed to understand. He rolled on his side to hold him back. 

"Right, right…" 

Lucien hummed happily as he buried his head against Mundy's hairy chest, lovingly. The Aussie closed his arms around him and held him close. 

"Gosh I never imagined I'd feel all this one day."

"Feel what?" 

"Wantin' to hug someone that badly." 

"I feel that for you too." Lucien answered as Mundy made sure the blanket was around him properly. 

"Oh-?" The Aussie blushed when he felt Lucien kiss his chest. 

"Ticklish?" Lucien asked. 

"Surprised." Mundy answered. 

"Is it too much?" 

"N-no. It's just… I didn't expect that." 

Lucien stopped and just cuddled with the taller man. They both appreciated the warmth, the fingers exploring each other's silhouettes, the hands sliding on clothes and skin.

"Lu'?"

"Hm?" 

"I feel weird right now…"

"Why?"

"I love you."

"And that makes you feel weird?" Lucien asked. 

"Yeah… I mean… It's been a few days since, y'know, you told me that you liked me and I liked you and…"

"Oui?"

"I haven't left your side for those past few days. It's weird. Spent years on my own and I never liked people. Now, I can't get enough of you."

Lucien smiled against Mundy's chest. 

"It's weird…" Mundy repeated. 

"You are thinking about it in a weird way." Lucien answered. 

"What d'you mean?"

"I do understand what you mean of course, as I have gone through a similar… sentimental desert for years."

"You haven't tried to get anyone?" Mundy asked. 

"Non. I couldn't get her out of my head."

Mundy looked for Lucien's hand under the blanket and when he found it, he slid his fingers between the Frenchman's. 

"What's her name?"

"Mary but I always would call her with my French accent 'Marie'."

"Mary…" Mundy repeated. "What's she like?" 

Lucien grinned as he reopened the most colourful chapter of his life in his mind. 

"She was charming, in her own way, and I never thought I could fall for a woman like her. She was American, she lived in Boston. I met her there as she worked as a waiter in a diner, similar to the one Victoria works for."

"Ah, I see." 

"She had black hair that would hardly touch her shoulders. She would always wear a headband that matched her outfit. My favourite one was her blue dress, it enhanced the colour of her eyes."

"She had blue eyes?"

"Oui. Darker than mine and lighter than yours. She was about… half a foot shorter than me and the curves of her body were proof of the existence of God…"

"What d'you mean?" 

"She had a slim waist and beautiful hips, oh… She had the most feminine silhouette."

"Have any pictures of her?"

Lucien frowned. 

"You would want to see her?" 

"If that's ok with you. I mean, if it hurts or anythin', you don't have to."

"I just fail to understand why you would like to. Wouldn't it make you feel uncomfortable? Actually, perhaps it was foolish of me to talk about her at all…" Lucien rubbed his face with a hand and frowned. "I shouldn't have."

"No, I was the one to ask, I mean, if you don't mind…?" 

Lucien sighed. 

"Fine, give me an instant." He got off the bed and Mundy watched him go out of the room. He thought that he might have pushed too far and his mind pictured Lucien locked up in the bathroom crying of grief, or anything worse maybe?

But no, Lucien re-appeared and sat back on the bed, his back against the wall. Mundy sat up next to him. 

"Your cigs case?" 

Lucien nodded as he opened the metallic case containing the nicely lined cigarettes. He pushed them slightly and retrieved the photograph hidden behind them. It wasn't facing him, but rather was turned such that Lucien needed to flip it to see it. 

"Here." He took it away from the cigarette case delicately without flipping it, and handed it to Mundy. 

"Can I see?" 

"Oui." 

Mundy flipped it. 

"Oh… It's… her with…"

"Jérémy, my son, and myself."

The black and white photograph showed the three of them. Lucien, Mary and young Jérémy in the middle. Lucien was lacing his arm around Mary's hips, and she was resting her hands on Jérémy's shoulders as he smiled to the camera. The Frenchman was wearing a white shirt and dark trousers but no tie or vest. Mary was wearing a dress with a headband of the same shade of grey and Jérémy had a baseball jacket that seemed a bit too large for him.

"You three look cute in this picture. And wow, you look quite younger too."

"No grey hair and not a single worry in the world." Lucien answered.

"Why d'you keep this picture upside down?"

The Frenchman sighed. 

"Because I am a heavy smoker as you know, and it is too hard to see them all the time. I keep them close to my heart, but I cannot afford to look at them. It is too strong, even after all this time."

"Right, I see. Any other pictures you have, or did you leave them in France?" Mundy asked as he gave the picture back.

"They are indeed in France but not in my possession."

"What d'you mean, 'not in your possession'?" 

"I…" Lucien thought fast. He didn't want anyone to know about this but Mundy was surely the last man he was speaking to, so he might as well confess all his sins. "After Marie and Jérémy passed, I gathered all evidence of their existence, and all proof that I once was happy. Any photographs and souvenirs I put in a box and on a rainy night, I went to a park in Paris."

Mundy frowned. 

"The rain was pouring on me and my clothes, drenching me to the bone. I could feel my suit sticking to my skin and all my hair was soaked. I picked the lock on the gate of that park and entered it. I walked such that I was sufficiently deep in and at some point I dropped to my knees, in the muddy grass. I took my knife out and started digging a hole with it and with my hands."

Mundy's jaw started to lower down. He could guess where it was all going. 

"When the hole was sufficiently big, I lowered the box in it. The rain drops falling on it made an unbearable drumming noise. I then put the dirt back on top of it and made it look like any other mole hole."

"Holy…" 

"All of what I was before is in that box which to this day lies under the ground in Paris." Lucien summed up. "I guess you surely think that I am a fool for this. But I don't want to keep secrets anymore, especially not with you."

Mundy pulled Lucien to himself and hugged him. 

"No. You're not crazy. I… After my parents went away, I put my rifles, bullets, bow and arrows, everything in a large tin crate and buried it in the middle of the desert. I prayed each day that I forgot where it was so that I can't go back to it. I'd learned my lesson. With a rifle in my hands I can not only kill the bloke in my scope, but also all the other people that I don't see when I scope. So yeah, I took everything, tossed it in a box and ditched it far from anyone and anything." 

Lucien snuggled against Mundy. 

"We both did the same then." He said. 

"Yeah. We both tried." 

"And look where it led us." Lucien said as both sank down to lie on the bed and intertwined their limbs together again. 

"I dug up my rifles again." 

"And I went back to three-piece suits and balaclavas." 

Both sighed. 

"But it's the last time we do that, right?" Mundy asked. 

"Oui. This is it, the final job."

Mundy was lying on his side with Lucien tightly between his arms, his head against the Aussie's chest, under his jaw. 

"Love you, Lu'. Love you more and more." 

"So do I." 

Mundy lowered his head and kissed Lucien's still slightly damp hair. 

"Mh, merci, mon loup."

[Thank you, my wolf.]

And those were the last few words they exchanged before falling asleep in each other's arms.

The minutes and hours hands spun, sweeping past the clock's face and soon the sun rose again.

"Mh… Lu'... What are you doing… Stop it… Let me sleep, please…" 

"Meow."

Mundy opened his eyes. 

He thought Lucien was playing with his hair on his face again but no, it was actually Perle brushing herself on Mundy's face. 

"Baby cat…" He hugged her and kissed her, looking over to Lucien who was still sleeping giving his back to him. 

"D'you think we should wake your Dad up?" 

Perle purred and stretched under the rough fingers and the exquisite scratches all along her back. 

"D'you want to wake him or…?" 

"Meow." She answered and rolled to offer her belly for Mundy to scratch. 

"Right, I'll do it myself then, but you need to leave, Pearl."

"Meow?" 

"Cause it's not a sight for kids. You'll understand when you grow up."

"Meow…" 

"No, you're still a baby, look at your big head and massive eyes. Also, your tail is very short."

"Meow!" She answered. 

"Yes, it is. Now, here," He kissed her and rolled on the bed until he was at the edge to drop her on the floor. "Go and play while you wait for me to wake Papa up, ok?" 

"Meow." She brushed herself on his hand one last time and trotted out of the room. 

"Right, now, to us…" Mundy got closer to Lucien and if his first thought was to spoon him, the temptation to kiss him overwhelmed the man and laced his arms around Lucien to kiss his back, on his satin shirt. He shifted closer to stick his body to the Frenchman. 

"Someone is happy to hug me…" The voice with the French accent sung and Mundy blushed. "Very happy, hm? Unless you keep a dagger in your underwear at all times." 

"Uh, n-no, I mean, it's just that, uh, I just woke up, ok? Sorry…" Mundy shifted away from Lucien's body but the Frenchman pulled his arms to make him come back. 

"When did you hear me complain about it?" He asked and Mundy came back right behind him with his happiness of the morning very much stuck to the Frenchman. 

"Sorry…" 

"Mmh… Don't apologise, there is no harm done. How did you sleep?" Lucien asked, revelling in his lover's arms. 

"Yeah, good. Didn't have nightmares but didn't dream about you either. Could be worse and could be better." 

"Hm? Have you ever dreamt about me?" Lucien asked. 

"Y-n-no, I mean, I might have, once or twice, maybe, ahem, anyway, did you have a good night?" 

Lucien smiled. He understood his lover's uneasiness at the question. 

"Oui, I have slept well, and woke up in the arms of the man I usually dream of, day and night."

"Oh, so you dream of me sometimes?" Mundy asked.

"Of course. My mind shows me images that my mouth can barely speak of."

"Why? Is it nightmares?" Mundy asked, oblivious.

"Quite the opposite, Mundy. In fact, there are hardly any dreams more pleasant than those…"

"Oh." Mundy now caught on what Lucien was meaning. "Right, ok, wow! I'll uh…" He pushed the blanket away from him. 

"Are you hot this morning?" 

"W-well, yeah, a bit, I mean, it's what you said, it's like you're meaning that you dream about-"

"Oui, I do." Lucien cut him. "I did and I still do with my eyes wide open, Mundy." 

He rolled to face the Aussie and sensually ran the tip of his fingers on his stomach and sides. 

"Gosh…"

Shivers everywhere and Mundy shut his eyes, frowning. Then, Lucien's lips on his chest, kissing softly, nipping here and there, up to his neck, under his jaw. Mundy's fingers were twitching on their own, they were lost, paralysed. Lucien finally arrived on Mundy's lips. He kissed them slowly, taking his time to appreciate each contact, each time he pressed his thin lips against the sharpshooter's, as he ran his fingers behind Mundy's back. 

Without consciously realising it, Mundy slid his hands on Lucien's slim cheeks and kissed back, passionately, his legs stretching and his toes curling under the blanket. He felt Lucien slither his legs between his.

"Gosh, Lu'..."

The Frenchman smirked and buried his head in Mundy's neck, nibbling softly there as his hands glided down Mundy's back, lower and lower until...

"Oh-?!" Mundy got startled at Lucien's sudden grasp for softness.

"Sorry, it was way too tempting." Lucien whispered in Mundy's ear.

"Yeah, nah, it's fine, it's just… I didn't expect it." Mundy lowered his head and kissed Lucien's hair. He shyly whispered. "Can I do the same to you?"

"I'm all yours." 

Mundy's hands slithered down Lucien's satin, dark red pyjamas until they reached the bottom of his back. 

"You sure?" 

"Please." 

Mundy timidly slid his palms lower and didn't see Lucien roll his eyes in bliss when the Aussie grasped the softness of the situation. 

"You have wonderful hands." Lucien purred.

"Oh, uh, ok, I don't know…"

"Do with me what you wish." Lucien snuggled closer to Mundy, sticking his chest and abdomen to the Aussie. 

"Oh, God…" Mundy realised that Lucien too was happy to wake up next to him. The surprise of it made his hands twitch and squeezed what they held for an instant. 

"Oh!" 

"Shit, sorry!" Mundy removed his hands.

"Non… It was delightful." Lucien's voice was begging for more without the words.

"C-can I-?"

"Oui."

"But you don't know what I was going to say?" Mundy chuckled. 

"Whatever you want to do," Lucien raised his head to Mundy. Their eyes met and Lucien pushed Mundy's long hair away from his face. 

"Please, do it." 

[wide-eyedscottishlass]

Scarlett and the Professor

[continued from]

8pm sharp.  Well, at least I’m not tardy.

Without a further moment’s hesitation, Scarlett rang the bell, knowing that now there would be no turning back.  Though the sun was nearly set, the evening air was humid, as if portending a storm coming off the Caribbean after full dark.  Although Scarlett had taken a long bath before dressing, her exposed skin already felt sticky.  As if in answer to that thought, a light breeze suddenly whispered against her bare flesh, stirring the few wispy tendrils of hair that had fallen from her loose chignon.  How cooling it felt against her shoulders and arms, her back and her calves, rippling her hemline.

She had chosen a dress meant to please her lover, an Egyptian blue, rayon and silk trapeze silhouette, which loosely draped her form and fell into a high-low hemline that complimented her legs.  The color flattered her pale skin tone and dark hair, and matched the pure, bright ocean waters that surrounded this island—waters which she knew Professor Hennessy loved.  Silver and rhinestone embellishments adorned the spaghetti straps and low v-neckline, with celestial symbols of the sun and moon stitched in silver thread scattered upon the blue background.  As she donned it, Scarlett had been thinking of how she had unwittingly become the moon to his sun, locked in an unwavering orbit around him, pursuing his blazing heat, and seeming to come to fullest light only when she reflected his light.

Hyper aware of the growing night sounds around her, the nervous rasp of her own respiration, and the thundering beat of her heart, Scarlett still didn’t miss the click of the latch inside the door being released.  Warm, tawny light spilled out from behind him as Hennessy opened the door, and his classic, masculine beauty, the peerless angles and planes of his face, stole the breath from her lungs as it did each time she saw him anew.  His eyes held hers in stasis for several moments, taking her measure, raking across her form, coolly appraising her as though he saw not only right through her clothing, but down to her soul.  The first blush of the evening crept into her cheeks.

He had changed his clothes too, into a deep blue silk dress shirt, so snug across his chest that the buttons seemed to be straining not to pop off.   He had his sleeves rolled up again, and his waistcoat—in a shade lighter than his shirt—hung open.  Scarlett dared look no lower, not wishing him to catch her eyeing what lay below his belt—although she knew without needing a glance, that his bespoke trousers matched his vest, and fit him as snugly as his shirt.

Hennessy’s smile was warm and disarming, his clear blue eyes dancing with mirth.  “Well now, aren’t you the tastiest treat to grace my doorstep in about a month of Sundays!”  He backed up a little to allow her to pass, “But please do come in, Miss Scarlett--and welcome to my home.”  Though she hadn’t even tried to imagine what to expect, the place already felt to her as though it had been raised from it’s foundations to house the life force of this enigmatic, powerful, all too charming, yet dangerous, man.

Scarlett had seen some of Europe’s most opulent mansions and palaces during her gap year travels, and though Hennessy’s home paled by those standards, she was impressed enough to have to remind herself not to gawk.  The marble-floored foyer led into a two-story hall that housed a ten-foot wide, cobalt coloured, carpeted staircase, which swept upwards to an eight foot tall, stained glass window above the main landing.  A short run of stairs branched off on either side of the landing, presumably to bedrooms and bathrooms, and likely much more.  But it was the window that really grabbed her attention.

A large silver moon dominated a star strewn, indigo sky, riding above stylized waves fresh with white seafoam.  Several shades of blue-greens and blues marked the descending depths, which towards the bottom became nearly as black as true night.  A myriad of bright fish swam in the upper levels, along with several grey seals and tortoises; just beneath them dwelt jellyfish, porpoises, a few species of sharks, and a pod of orcas.  In the darker regions below cruised manta rays and bright red octopi and freakishly long eels.  Lurking the bottom was an ominous black sea serpent, outlined in the same silver that coloured the moon, so as to be visible.  It’s eyes were large and cat-like—and possessed the monster’s only other color besides black and silver.  Blue.  A bright blue that felt impossible to belong to such a menacing creature.  Why, even it’s deadly fangs and claws were silver.

Scarlett shivered at the sight, as though a goose had walked over her grave.  For several heartbeats she was overcome with deja vu—for it put her in mind of her nightmares of unseen, but too oft-dreamt, foul beasties populating the Deep, laying in wait to steal her away if she ever tread too far from shore.  Those terrors of her youth, which had only fully disappeared when she had tarried on the shores of the Aegean Sea during her Greek holiday.  And had just recently returned to plague her briefly throughout those weeks that Hennessy had left her languishing for his attention.  Still unaware that it was her ancient Selkie blood raising the alarm, she turned away—vowing that if…or when…she had cause to mount those stairs, she would avert her eyes from the troubling portion of the image, and focus solely on the moon and waves, the fish and sleek grey seals.

Hennessy looked back over his shoulder to make sure she hadn’t fallen behind, casually asking her, “Have you eaten?”

“Um…yes,” she replied quietly, not adding that she’d barely had an appetite in nervous anticipation of their evening together, “I assumed you didn’t invite me here for dinner…”

“That I did not,” he chuckled, stopping just outside a wide, open doorway to the left of the sprawling staircase, “But I think we could both use a bit of refreshment before the evening’s revelries begin.” He sketched a little bow, his handsome face become mischief personified, and motioned for Scarlett to proceed him into the room.

From the preponderance of leather and wood, she guessed this was his study.  The room had a decidedly masculine air about it, with dark wood paneling all around and full bookcases lining two walls.  With a quick glance, Scarlett noted a book of poetry by Dylan Thomas (which she would later discover was a first edition), well-weathered editions by Samuel Beckett and William Blake, and even a collection of works by her beloved Pablo Neruda.  That was a surprise: she never would have imagined Hennessy reading any sort of romantic poetry, let alone the works that she knew populated that title.  It certainly didn’t fit the image he presented to the world, let alone in the private moments they had shared thus far.

The wonderful smell of old, cherished books dominated the air and hints of cigar smoke lingered in the room.  Scarlett also detected traces of Hennessy’s cologne underlying it all.  A scent with notes of bright, clean citrus, mixed with amber and something that reminded her of an old cedarwood cabinet in her cottage back home, all tinged with a  salty tang. Taken altogether, scents that evoked sure thoughts of the sea.  Fittingly, a painting above the fireplace reinforced the aquatic feel---it depicted a ship with tattered sails wrecked upon a harsh outcropping of rocks, set against a backdrop of rough whitecaps and forked lightening.  Several sirens, creatures out of myths and sea dreams, beckoned with outstretched arms to the unlucky sailors, trapping the unfortunate men between the treacherous waters and the beautiful peril of supernatural beings seeking to wreck their immortal souls.

Other smaller paintings hung throughout the room, all celebrating various aspects of the sea, including one that would easily become Scarlett’s favorite: silvery moonlight adorning the ripples and waves that washed up onto a white sand beach—which put her in mind of the warm, lovely waters of the Aegean, when she’d vacationed in Mykonos a few years ago.

A bar cart sat beside a leather divan adjacent to one of the bookcases, topped with cut crystal old fashioned glasses, a gleaming, sterling silver ice bucket, and a sealed bottle of Glenlivet 18 YO. Hennessy dropped several ice cubes into one of the rocks glasses, then cracked open the bottle of fine, Scottish-distilled whiskey, pouring first onto the rocks, and then straight up into a second glass.  He turned to Scarlett, holding out the iced drink to her, “Care for a taste of home?

She stepped forward and silently took his offering, giving a small start at the brush of his cool fingertips against her skin at the transfer.  A sudden rush of anticipation—and damned desire—bolted through her, betraying her resolve to appear aloof to his wicked charms for as long as she could manage. And of course he noticed, the Man never missed a trick; her quick intake of breath, the dilation of her pupils, enough to give her away.

Hennessy greeted her response with a satisfied half-smile and a knowing lift of his brow, clearly pleased with her quiet but visceral reaction.  “It’s meant to take the edge of, darlin’…to help you relax a bit,” he winked, raising his glass, “Slainte mhath.”  He took a long swallow, while never taking his eyes off her.

She hesitated in meeting the familiar toast, instead swirling the ice a bit, so that notes of rich cream and caramelized vanilla wafted up from the heady ramber fluid, while she wondered if there might have been something in the bottom of the glass, or even in the ice itself, before he’d poured the whiskey in.  Closely considering if Hennessy would actually sink that low.

“Oh, Scarlett…my dear girl,” he t’sked, practically reading her mind, “Do you honestly think I’d want to dose you?”  He feigned a look of hurt that soon melted into an indulgent smile, “We both know why you’re here tonight, and I wouldn’t dream of depriving you of fully experiencing the…festivities…”  he bit his lower lip, daring her to answer.

“No,” she replied, almost to herself, letting her small overnight bag slip the floor, “No, I suppose you wouldn’t.”  And then, wanting to prove herself up to whatever he had planned for them in the hours ahead, Scarlett lifted her glass and thickened her brogue for maximum effect, “Gu gaothan arda agus maighdeannan-mara!” fearlessly throwing back the full portion of whiskey he had given her.  Unaccustomed to hard liquor, she had to give a little shake of her head to keep from gagging as the bite hit the back of her throat---but soon enough, she felt the velvet burn go down, and even better, the liquid courage radiating out from the pit of her stomach to even the tips of her fingers and toes.

Her boldness appeared to please him, which left Scarlett pleased as well---until she gave a wee, ladylike burp.  He did a double take as she quietly excused herself, before he laughed heartily.  “Good god, Scarlett, but you never fail to entertain!”  To that, she could only shrug sheepishly, then give him a sweet, honest smile.

Hennessy downed the remainder of his own drink and set his glass down on the bar, before drawing his closest to her yet, so that she had to look up to maintain eye contact.  Unconsciously, she parted her lips, readying herself for his kiss, but that was not his intention.  Instead, he retrieved her tumbler and reached for her overnight bag, taking it to deposit on the divan, before he moved to refill both their glasses.  Scarlett started to decline when he held it out to her, but he shook his head.  “Take it, my dear,” he insisted, sounding kindly, but clearly expecting her to come to him at once, “’Twould be a cardinal sin to waste such good whiskey.”

Close up this way, his magnetism took over, reminding Scarlett there was very little chance she could withstand anything he would ask of her this night.  She sipped at her whiskey, allowing herself to enjoy its woody-spiced flavor and slight taste of vanilla, it’s mounting warmth spreading relaxation through her veins.  Hennessy was watching her keenly, biding his time as he polished off his portion.

When satisfied she had drunk enough, he put both their glasses aside, and turned to her with a soft smile, the request that followed completely unexpected.  “Scarlett, would you take down your hair for me?”  She blinked several times in surprise, so that he added gently, “Please, my dear.  You don’t wear it down nearly enough.”

“As...as you wish...Professor.”  His gaze felt like a slow, painless dissection, as though he was reckoning even her most secret details, thoughts, and desires.  Scarlett inclined her head a bit, and pulled out the silver comb that secured her updo, along with several bobby pins, then shook her hair loose, fluffing the length out with her free hand.  

She looked back up when Hennessy drew a whistling breath, to find he’d closed what little space had been left between them.  “There you go, my good little lamb.  Pretty as a picture.”  He took her hand between his two, relieving her of the comb and pins, softly stroking the back of her hand with the fingertips of his free hand, then sliding them up to her elbow in a slow, deliberate tease.  She closed her eyes, knowing that the seduction had truly begun.

Hennessy deposited her ornaments in his pocket, another trophy in his conquest, and with his hand still on her elbow, drew Scarlett to him.  She raised her face, waiting for his kiss---though he delayed, threading the fingers of his other hand through her hair, then tracing the shell of her ear.  Just kiss me, dammit, her mind cried out, kiss me please!  She parted her lips once more, in anticipation.

“Prettier than any picture that I’ve seen in a very...long...time,” he murmured, then finally laid his lips on hers.

Of all the kisses he had yet bestowed upon her, this was the most patient.  The most thorough too, for he knew he had all the time in the world.  Scarlett’s instinct insisted that this was as much for his own sake as for hers---for though he certainly knew what this evening meant to her, and that what lovers she took for the rest of her life would ever be compared to him, he was actually about the entire experience, and not just the consummation that had been her promise to him from before they had shared a single touch.  Hennessy savored her lips patiently, precisely because he knew she was already his---and surely because he had nothing to prove or anything further to gain.

When they broke the first time to catch a gasp of air, he leaned his forehead against hers, breathing just as hard as she was.  It felt like forever to her as she waited for him to begin again, yet before he did, he cleared his throat, asking huskily, “Before we truly commence, little lamb, satisfy my curiosity please…”

“Anything,” she whispered.  Anything for you, dearest man.

He puffed against her lips, amused, “Just what in God’s good English did you mean by that toast you made?”

Scarlett couldn’t help but smile, marveling that for once she had stumped him.  “Man of the world…Master of all you survey…surely you can guess…”

“I haven’t a clue, Scarlett,” he practically growled, “And I’ll have all your secrets this night, one way or another.”

Of course you will, she thought, and brushed her lips to his, delivering the translation.  “To high winds…and mermaids! Like a blessing—for an auspicious new endeavor.”  

She felt the smile that graced his fulsome lips, as he told her, “My oh my…you are a true wonder, Scarlett.”  Then he silenced any reply she might give by searing his mouth to hers.                        🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

Now these were, by far, the most alluring, the most delicious, most prized kisses of her young life, and Scarlett gave way most willingly, moment by moment, feeling as though Hennessy was slowly consuming her.  He held her face in his hands when they started, and she had pressed hers to his chest, dependent on his strength to keep her knees from buckling.  She panted for air when he withdrew his lips, and then heard the small, hungry sounds she made when he dipped his tongue back into her willing mouth.

When he noticed that one of her straps had slipped off her shoulder, his kissed his way down her throat and onto her bare skin.  Scarlett hadn’t bothered to try and conceal the love bruises he’d given her that afternoon—she had only worn a lightweight scarf to cover them while in the taxi that had brought her here—and now Hennessy softly revisited those marks, as though in deference to their tenderness.

That was exactly the sort of thing that always set her off kilter.  Scarlett was already well acquainted with how lustfully he pursued fulfillment of his appetites.  And she’d discovered that such reckless, heedless behaviors made her want him all the more.  Hennessy’s wicked proclivities were legion, ever waiting to surge up from his depths, and though she knew he had only shown her a fraction of those tendencies, what she had experienced thus far made her want to play his wanton.  But when he was gentle, solicitous of her needs, mindful of her inexperience, it was her heart that became more deeply entangled in the spell her body had all but fully succumbed to.  Scarlett had fallen hard, imperiling her tender heart beyond anything that Hennessy might visit upon her young, oh-so-willing body.  Or so she still believed.

There was no resisting his pull upon her, nor the confidence and skill of his elegant hands as they slid across the fabric of her dress, cupping her breasts and later her bottom with the fervor that had her wishing he would just strip her bare already. Pressed tightly to him, Scarlett could feel his erection growing more swollen and was imagining what it would feel like to have him finally buried deep inside her.

Hennessy was kissing her throat, occasionally grazing her skin with his teeth, each time a surprise enough to make her gasp.  With the latest, he brought his mouth to her ear, issuing a smooth command, “Come sit with me, little lamb.”  Not giving her a moment to consider disobeying, he dragged her along to one of the leather wingback chairs that sat before the unlit hearth.  “I’ve fancied sitting you on my lap for some time now, Scarlett,” he told her, and pulled her down onto him with enough force to elicit a breathy, surprised giggle from her.  “Does this amuse you, my dear?”

She shrugged, bit her lip, and then averted her eyes coyly, “Oh, Professor...everything you do...is...is like nothing I’ve experienced before.”  His silence bade her continue, so that she turned her widened eyes back his way, “You astonish me...again and again.  And sometimes...sometimes you frighten me.”  Scarlett felt her color rise once more, but would not flinch from her confession.  “But most of all, you fascinate me, Sir...and make me want to drown in your desires.”  She breathed out slowly, hanging upon his response.

He studied her closely, searching her truth--and finding not a speck of artifice in her admission, nodded, “You understand, sweet lambkin, that there is danger as much in my undertow as in my deep waters?”  Scarlett nodded solemnly.  “And that your innocence is no protection against this?”

“Oh yes,” she sighed, her skin atingle where he had spread one hand between her shoulder blades.  “I’ve spent my life shirking risk and danger at every turn--but I want yours now more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life.”  With that she leaned in to kiss him, sealing her lips to his as fearlessly as she sealed her fate...

(to be continued)

tagging: @strangelock221b @letterstosherlock @ben-c-group-therapy @tsukuyomi011 @ravencatart @emilyinnj4real @humanbornarchangel @aziracraw @aeterna-auroral-avenger @adragonscloset @naughtynecromancer  and @cinderella1181 so you can see a sample of what I’ve been working on lately 

[elesianne]

A Silmarillion fanfic, chapter twenty-five – Last chapter

Chapter summary: The wedding day, which is for their families, and the night, which is for Carnistir and Tuilindien alone.

Rating: Teen and up audiences; Chapter length: ~6,700 words

Chapter notes: Here it is, the last, long chapter of this story. I hope my readers like it. I loved writing it, bringing these characters and their long courting to a happy conclusion.

The very end implies, hmm, marital activity. Though I don't describe it in any detail and I don't think it comes close to meriting an M rating, I wanted to mention it here in case someone wants to avoid it.

Many details of Valinorean marriage ceremony are from Laws and Customs among the Eldar (HoME 10), and some I made up.

(Read on AO3)

*

Chapter XXV // Love bound by gold

The morning of the wedding it rains.

Tuilindien eats breakfast in bed – Indis had it arranged that way – looking out of the window on the opposite wall. She would prefer fine weather, but the rain does not truly matter. Nothing could suppress or outshine the warmth in her heart.

That warmth is almost enough to make her not even feel nervous. She is a little nervous as she expected to be, but only about being at the centre of attention all day.

She has had a tiny but insistent seed of anxiety in her chest ever since she decided to ask Carnistir to marry her that she might feel doubt or hesitation on her wedding day, even though she has not felt it on any day before for a long time now.

As she sits on the edge of her bed, keeping her bare feet off the cool floor, and looks out to the rainy garden, she feels at peace. Expectant, yes, and excited, and that little bit nervous, but perfectly at peace with what she has decided.

It is time for a new kind of life, and against her own expectations, she feels ready for it now that this moment is here. She feels that she has what she needs to build a new life for herself in Tirion: as Carnistir's wife, as a scholar, as a Vanya among Noldor, as a protégé of Nerdanel and Indis. She will keep of her own life what she can: for all that she loves Carnistir with all that she is, she loved her old life too. Her family, her home, all the public spaces and the hidden places she used to spend her hours in in the settlement around king Ingwë's palace.

She will keep them all close in her memory and her dreams, and she will visit as much as she can and write when she cannot.

It still hurts to think of living so far from her family – it always must, she suspects – but it is a hurt she can bear with acceptance and equanimity.

She realises that she woke earlier than she needed to, so she sits back on the bed, leaning against the soft padded headboard, tucking her feet under her. She listens to the rain and lets herself sink into imagining soft touches from strong hands, and sweet words, and all the good things that she hopes for from the night to come, if not the public celebration of the day.

The day is for their families, the night for Carnistir and her alone.

Her mother comes to her when some time has passed. Tuilindien does not know much, but the rain has started beating down harder while she was lost in her hopes.

Sailiel comes alone. Usually she and all her daughters dress and prepare for feasts and celebrations together, with each of them helping the others, even little Wilwarindëa as much as she can with her clumsy fingers. It is a family tradition.

But Tuilindien is also accustomed to her mother knowing, without being told, when she needs peace and quiet. This morning her mother's calm presence and practised movements suit her own mood well.

Sailiel asks, 'Are you well this morning, my darling?' as she enters Tuilindien's room, and after Tuilindien replies that she is very well, they speak little.

Sailiel lays out her own dress and jewellery that she brought with her while Tuilindien washes her face. Sailiel has already braided her hair into a high crown decorated with tiny yellow jewels.

'I am all here for you, my darling.' Sailiel smiles at her daughter in the mirror as Tuilindien sits down at the dressing table. 'Have you changed your mind, do you want more than the flowers in your hair?'

Tuilindien smiles back at her mother's reflection. 'Just the flowers, thank you.'

They'd agreed on a hairstyle before they even came to Tirion. Sailiel simply brushes her daughter's curls until they shine as a rushing river of dark gold down her back, and weaves in small white flowers. Tuilindien knows that they shall stay beautiful and unwilted all day for as her mother picks up each bloom, she hums a low, melodic tune that Tuilindien can feel holds in it some power.

It is peaceful, nonetheless, the humming and her mother's careful movements, and Tuilindien enjoys the serenity of the morning.

Sailiel helps Tuilindien into her dress, careful of her hair and the many flowers adorning it. Sailiel dresses too and puts on her jewellery. She wears many more jewels than her daughter: sparkling colours in her ears, around her wrists and neck as well as in her hair.

Tuilindien wears only her silver ring which she will soon exchange for gold.

Her mother embraces her before they go. There are no words spoken, only feelings shared through the wordless connection that is weaker than the one Tuilindien shares with Carnistir but which has been a comfort to her all her life.

Her mother's embrace makes Tuilindien feel as though she were ensconced in a warm blanket instead of her light, gauzy dress, and going to join the rest of her family and being embraced by all of them in turn makes the glow in her fëa even warmer.

When they go to the great feasting hall and she sees Carnistir on the other side of the room wearing silver-grey clothes and a stern expression but also an excited blush, she feels her hröa must be glowing too.

*

Carnistir rouses early to Huan barking and the twins shouting – the former no doubt caused by the latter, as Huan is exceedingly well-behaved when not provoked – and finding rest again seems impossible.

For a moment he considers going to tell the dog and children alike to be quiet but he doesn't feel very inclined to do it, his irritation tempered by the happy awareness that it is the day he is to marry Tuilindien, and that tomorrow he will wake up beside her.

He lies there in his bed, staring up at the grey marble ceiling with its swirls and veins that he knows by heart, thinking of Tuilindien. But thinking of her brings frustration, too, because there are many hours left before the feast for their union even begins. He did not mean to wake this early.

He rolls over to his stomach and pulls a pillow over his ears.

When he rises not much later, having given up on rest, he washes and dresses in the clothes that have been carefully laid out. The surcoat is of charcoal grey with a hint of silver in the brocade fabric – only a hint, for Carnistir does not want to appear a glittering fool. The trousers are plain, fine linen in a lighter grey shade.

There is a cloak, too, of darker grey with a lining of burgundy velvet. His mother gave the cloak to him. It is unnecessarily warm for the crowded feasting hall where the ceremonies will take place, and Carnistir has a brief debate with himself about wearing it. Tuilindien will no doubt be wearing something of a lightweight fabric and pale colour that looks like light flowing down her body, as usual.

After a long moment of staring out of his window into the rainy garden he throws on the cloak. It is not like they will not look an unmatched pair anyway, even without the cloak. They are not like Tuilindien's sister and her husband, both fair-haired and delicate-featured, nor like Makalaurë and Tinweriel with their dark hair, equal height and fashionable clothes.

Carnistir doesn't pretend, not even to himself, that he understands why, with all their differences, he and Tuilindien love each other and connect as they do. It is enough that we do, he thinks, face no doubt flushed, as he leaves the peace of his room and enters the fray that is breakfast with his family.

The chaos lasts until the minute he and his father leave. They ride to the palace together, the rest of the family following not much behind. His mother kisses him on the forehead before they leave, her wish for his happiness clear though she doesn't put it into words.

Fëanáro says little on the short ride, and Carnistir even less. He doesn't want to start a fight with his father, and he has a feeling he might do it quite accidentally. It is safer to be silent. It is enough anyway – the most that he could realistically have expected – that his father is by his side on the morning of his wedding.

Even if Fëanáro seems to have trouble keeping a discontented look off his face.

Finwë couldn't beam with any more pride, though, when he comes to personally escort his son and grandson into the large room where the wedding feast is to be celebrated. It is the same hall where Carnistir officially betrothed himself to Tuilindien, now decorated in spring greenery. Carnistir spares a moment to think of how much effort it must have taken to gather that much green this early in the spring. He then paces around, getting in the way of the servants' last preparations, until his grandfather and father take him to a more private side chamber.

'It is my duty as your father to stop you making a spectacle of yourself today, Morifinwë', his father grumbles, though not unsympathetically.

'You had better stop Curvo from making one of himself later when he gets into the wine, too', Carnistir grumbles back.

He sits down and forces himself to stay still without fidgeting. He knows he can do it.

There is a tapestry of some hunting scene on the wall opposite of him and he quietens his mind by studying every single detail in it until it is time to step into the feasting hall again.

When he opens the door he sees Tuilindien. She is some distance away next to her mother who is, from afar, very similar in looks. But he could never mistake Tuilindien for Sailiel or anyone else, for as soon as he sees her, in his chest flares into life the dear, indescribable, wordless connection that leads him to her surer than a beacon in the dark.

His father, or grandfather perhaps, says something, but Carnistir is already walking away to his bride. She is dressed in one of her layered, draped dresses of diaphanous silk chiffon, this time in palest gold. It makes her hair and skin glow darker by comparison. She has white flowers in her beautiful hair.

He doesn't know if he appears to others shy and stilted on this day but if he does, it doesn't matter. He takes Tuilindien by the hand that for now bears his silver ring, and he tells her, 'You are utterly lovely, and I am very happy.'

'Carnistir.' Her smile makes her eyes bright, too. 'I am very happy too, already.' She touches his cheek quickly, gently, and he feels love pulsing from her, bright and tender. She then turns to curtsy deeply to someone behind him. 'Your majesty, your highness.'

His grandfather and father followed him, then. Carnistir mentally shakes himself to awareness of his surroundings beyond Tuilindien.

The first thing he sees is the amused face of his law-mother-to-be. He bows to her hurriedly.

Their rest of their parents and grandparents arrive and exchange pleasantries. Carnistir notes that his mother has a tight hold on his father's arm. He hopes and trusts that she will hold onto Fëanáro all day. His father has not said any rude things about Tuilindien lately, but neither Carnistir nor Nerdanel trust him entirely in that regard yet.

Carnistir doesn't let go of Tuilindien's hand either while they wait for the last guests to arrive and settle in their seats along the long tables.

There are welcoming words from Finwë, a musical piece from Makalaurë and Tinweriel (a love song, as is to be expected at a wedding feast; Pityafinwë, Telufinwë, and Tyelkormo make faces during it anyway), and then there is the sumptuous feast itself, with every Noldorin and Vanyarin delicacy on offer.

Carnistir tries some of both, but he has little appetite. He has attended many weddings in his life but only now does it occur to him that the feasting part of the feast should be last, not first, for it feels like an insurmountable ambition to even try and be sociable and appear presentable while waiting for the actual ceremony.

(Will his father embarrass him and Tuilindien? Will Carnistir himself embarrass Tuilindien?)

Once again it seems both fortunate and embarrassing that he has created for himself a reputation, both among family and people who don't know him well, of one who despises small talk and prefers to be alone. Few people attempt to talk to him.

Or perhaps it is as Tuilindien says when she squeezes his knee under the table and whispers to him, too quiet to be heard but with the aid of their soundless bond, 'It is not expected of couples to be excellent conversationalists at their own wedding feast.'

Her words appear to be for the comfort of both of them, so Carnistir squeezes back and tells her that he agrees.

She doesn't talk much either, mainly listens to various members of his and her family as they reminisce about their own weddings.

But she helps him.

When it is clear that he should say something but he struggles to think of it soon enough or is about to say something rude, she replies on his behalf. She does it in her own quiet, gentle way, and doesn't do it too often, and it doesn't anger Carnistir.

It is a relief, and helps him relax.

When the moment arrives that the servants have emptied the tables and the king rises, and everyone with him, Carnistir and Tuilindien's parents lead them to the empty dais in the fore of the room. It feels both too soon and far, far overdue.

He stands between his parents, as is the custom, and his father takes his hand, as is the custom. Facing them Tuilindien stands, radiant in her near-white dress, between her parents who wear darker clothes.

From the high windows a mingled light of Laurelin's gold and Telperion's silver falls upon them.

Tuilindien's mother and Fëanáro step forward for the joining of the hands. Tuilindien's hand feels warm and familiar as it slips into Carnistir's.

He quickly lifts his eyes from Tuilindien to his father and Tuilindien's mother as they begin giving the ceremonial blessings. Sailiel smiles, motherly and comforting in this moment though Carnistir knows that she can be steely and sharp-tongued.

Fëanáro's expression is far from a smile, but his voice isn't too harsh as he gives the blessing of himself and his family to Carnistir and Tuilindien's union, welcoming her into his family. This is the main purpose of the entire feast, to join families. Hearing his father speak formally but not coldly makes Carnistir finally relax.

He unclenches the his fingers of his free hand from his cloak.

At the end of their blessings, Sailiel and Fëanáro name Varda and Manwë as their witnesses, though not by those names. The rarely-heard names of the two greatest Valar in their own tongue flow fluently from the tongues of both Tuilindien's mother and Carnistir's own father, as does the name of Eru Ilúvatar. The name of The One is rarely spoken, only in the most serious of vows.

There is a silence in the hall, not even a child's voice to be heard. The quiet continues as Tuilindien takes off the slender silver band that Carnistir gave her a year and a half ago in this same place, gathered before the same people. She offers it back to him, holding it on her palm along with a golden ring.

It is only a lifetime of practise that makes it possible for Carnistir to keep his fingers from trembling as he takes off the silver ring made by a Vanyarin smith that he has been wearing for Tuilindien, and takes from his pocket the golden one that he has made for her. It feels cold in his fingers but will always feel slightly warm to Tuilindien's touch.

He and his beloved reach out to each other at the same time and exchange the rings, speaking the oath of love and care and loyalty to each other, swearing it all in the name of The One.

Carnistir has never said the name Eru Ilúvatar out loud before, and the act of saying it – to name the All High, the holy beoynd holy – makes something in him shake, like a rush of wind passing through the trees in a valley, and then settle.

Oaths sworn by the name of The One cannot be broken.

*

Oh, how she loves him. The love and the joy of this moment rush in her ears so that Tuilindien can hardly hear herself and Carnistir speak the oath and the Name. She thinks that her voice shakes a little, and her hands certainly do as she exchanges rings with her Carnistir.

His hands are as steady and warm as always; his face, when she raises her eyes to look at him, is red, as is his neck from the collar up, and even the tips of his ears.

Oh, how she loves him. She loves the determination in his beautiful dark eyes, his fierce focus and perseverance which encouraged her and brought them to his day, his strong arms that make her feel safe and cherished. He is always so ready to hold her within them.

He twines them about her waist now, after they close the small distance between them, and she smiles at him through a veil of unshed tears.

'Tears of happiness', she whispers to him.

'I know', he says.

He does not smile, but she knows it is no bad thing, just as he knows that her tears aren't either. The connection between them has never been stronger. It will be strengthened further when they join their bodies in the act of love, but the ceremony has already brought them closer.

And Tuilindien feels – it feels like her body can hardly contain all of her love without breaking, and yet she feels more complete and whole than ever for loving him. She hopes that he feels all of it. She certainly feels his love like a flame close to her skin, but inside; not burning her, but warming both her spirit and flesh, fëa and hröa, marking the edges of her and making her aware of her own body.

As they kiss, their families cheer, the solemn part of the ceremony over. Only the giving of gifts from their parents, in Noldorin tradition, remains, as well as a Vanyarin blessing.

But as Tuilindien feels her beloved's lips on hers and his arms around her, moving from her waist to sinking gently in her hair, she cannot think of their families. She is lost in a gentle-fierce storm of feelings, all of them right and true.

 *

The rain has stopped by the time they walk out of the palace, hand in hand. A large group of jubilant and in some cases inebriated family members follow behind them to send them off to their new home.

Awaiting them in the Great Square are Tyelkormo and Curufinwë, both grinning and holding onto Varnerocco's halter. Around Carnistir's bad-tempered bay mare's neck is an enormous wreath of white and yellow flowers and green leaves.

'Our wedding gift to you, brother dear, fair new sister.' Tyelkormo nods to Carnistir and  makes a show of dramatically bowing to Tuilindien. 'Your void-beast steed suitably adorned for the occasion, and to match you two.'

Varnë is definitely scowling if that can be said of a horse, and so is Carnistir who apparently doesn't much appreciate this surprise or the reference to the crown of yavannamírë blossoms on his own head that Tuilindien's mother placed there as a part of a Vanyarin blessing.

Tuilindien, however, cannot help but smile at the sight of Carnistir's grinning brothers and disapproving horse. Touching her own flower-crown, she thanks Tyelkormo and Curufinwë. 'What a wonderful surprise. Varnë looks beautiful, though I dare say she disagrees.'

Varnë tosses her head, dragging Curufinwë up to his toes until Tyelkormo tugs her back down.

Carnistir hisses to his brothers, 'A wedding gift, you say – more like a drunken fancy.'

'You wrong us', Tyelkormo protests. Tuilindien notes that he is flushed, less pale than usual, as is Curufinwë.

'If you knew how many bites we have sustained as we've fought to stop her from trying to get rid of the flowers, you would be more grateful', Curufinwë argues.

'We are very grateful', Tuilindien hurries to assure her new law-brothers before Carnistir can argue back. Their families are already gathered around them.

Carnistir rolls his eyes at his brothers anyway, and only then lifts Tuilindien on to Varnë's back. Slightly nervous even though they have practised riding together, she pats Varnë's neck as Carnistir swings himself up behind her.

The square ringing with their families and friends' shouts of congratulations, they ride into the glittering streets of the Noldor's white city, Tuilindien's new home city.

They are quiet for most of the way, communicating through small touches and shared feelings.

Only when they are close to their new house does Carnistir blurt, with the confusion in his voice which Tuilindien had felt in his spirit much earlier but has been waiting for him to speak of, 'I cannot believe that your parents gave me a farm as a blessing-gift.'

'It is only a small one', she tells him. 'And on the mountainside, so it is not the most productive.'

'It is a farm', Carnistir emphasises. 'My parents only gave you a jewel.'

Tuilindien lets go of the pommel of Varnë's saddle to touch the bejewelled choker around her neck. In its centre is set a large jewel, blood-red and blazing-brilliant.

'They gave me a precious jewel according to the customs of the Noldor', she replies. 'Among my people no such gift is traditionally given, only a wreath of flowers for the couple getting married. Out of respect for your people's traditions, my mother decided to have the wreath made from blossoms of yavannamírë from the little farm they wanted to give to us, combining the two traditions.' Tuilindien turns her head a little, rubbing her cheek against his chest for a second or two. 'They wanted us to have a place of our own to stay among the Vanyar, you see.'

'Hmm.' Carnistir turns Varnë to the short street at whose end their new house is located. 'Do they think that it will make me more likely to visit often?'

'Yes.' She cannot keep laughter out of her voice. 'And they are right, are they not?'

'They are', Carnistir admits, with some reluctance and embarrassment.

To comfort him, Tuilindien says, 'I am glad of it too.'

And then they are arriving at their house, and she makes noises of wonder and amazement. The last time she was here there was the half-demolished ruin of the old house in the place where now stands the new house designed and built by Carnistir.

He has written of it to her, describing some of its features in his letters, but finally seeing the house in all its glory has her astonished and wordless. She stares, straight-backed on Varnë's back, no longer leaning on Carnistir.

He brings the horse to a stop and dismounts. He has to call her name twice before she looks down at him and lets him help her down as well.

Once she is on the ground, they look at the house together while Varnë makes a renewed effort at eating flowers from the wreath around her neck. Carnistir lets her.

'It is a wonder you behaved for the duration of the ride', he tells her grumpily before turning to Tuilindien.

'I do not know what to say', she says after a long moment of looking at the house. Carnistir stands tense beside her, clearly waiting for her to say something. 'You must know – you must feel what I feel – that it is beautiful. That word feels too little but I have no better one to use. It is beautiful, and big but not too big, like you promised, and it is white but not too white. There are many windows –'

She runs out of words. She gathers her light skirts in her hands and runs towards the house. She can hear Carnistir follow her, dragging a recalcitrant Varnë behind him.

'Stained glass', she breathes quietly as she looks at the windows. 'You gave me many windows of stained glass.'

'I promised you I would.'

'The night we betrothed ourselves to each other', she remembers. 'You have not mentioned it since. I thought perhaps you abandoned the idea.'

'I keep my promises', he tells her. 'I said that I would give you a house that feels like home, with Vanyarin features and a large garden. I did all that.'

She turns to him. 'Show me, please.'

They hand Varnë off to the one groom Carnistir had instructed to wait for them, and then Carnistir takes his bride into the house he made for her.

Hand in hand, they wander from room to room. The house is quiet: all of their servants apart from the one groom were sent to work at the wedding feast, and accommodation was arranged for them at the palace's servants' quarters so that Carnistir and Tuilindien would have the house all to themselves this first night.

There are candles left burning in every room, though, and in their warm light he shows her all the rooms, both finished and unfinished. There is something to marvel at in each.

The house is a mixture of Noldorin and Vanyarin architectural features, and a few Falmarin ones too, Carnistir admits. 'Findaráto managed to convince me to try a few such things, and I kept the ones that seemed to fit'.

'It all flows together beautifully', Tuilindien says, leaning her head on his shoulder. He puts one arm around her and gesticulates with the other, pointing out details.

I will make my new home here, she thinks. Here in this beautiful house he built for us, and here within the circle of his arms.

'Tuilë?' Carnistir peers at her face.

'I am sorry, my love. I was lost in my thoughts for a moment, a happy reverie inspired by all this beauty around me.'

Cinder appears from the shadows suddenly, a little black shadow herself. She circles around Carnistir a few times and then takes off again to chase something only she can see.

Carnistir and Tuilindien continue their tour, smiling. They put out the candles as they go, leaving the rooms behind them to wait in darkness.

In the end there is only one wing of the house left to see.

Carnistir's voice is a little scratchy when he tells her, 'Our bedroom is this way.'

Instead of replying Tuilindien takes off, with careful movements, her crown of yellow yavannamírë blossoms.

'Before we go in there, we must go to the garden.'

*

Carnistir is so confused he cannot even feel annoyed or impatient, though he has been waiting for the first night together in their shared bedchamber for years.

Before he can ask why, Tuilindien begins explaining. 'Blessing-crowns like these are customarily not discarded but given as tribute to the Valar. In the case of wedding crowns, to Yavanna and Vána who watch over all things that grow and bloom.'

Carnistir can feel himself turn red as well, though it is exceedingly silly in these circumstances. 'I assume it has something to do with children, then?'

Tuilindien nods. 'The flowers are given back to Yavanna and Vána so that they may help the couple bring forth children when they so desire.'

'There are no altars in the garden', he has to tell her, to his shame and vexation. 'I wanted to decide together with you where to put them.'

'That is alright.' Tuilindien thinks for barely a second. 'We shall go and find the tree that carries most leaves and blossoms this early in the spring, and lay our flowers down around it, and that shall be our altar.'

He would never have thought of that, but it seems perfectly fitting for the Valier of things that grow and bloom.

He leads her to the stairs closest to the garden, picks up a lantern with one of his father's blue-white light-stones inside, and out they go back into the silver night. Though crisp, it is warmer than the last: true spring is fast approaching.

They look for the tree with most leaves and blossoms. They find it, an old lairelossë in the orchard, near a pavilion that Carnistir had had built in a little clearing for Tuilindien to read in. For their children to play in, perhaps, one day.

'Is there something we should say?' he asks awkwardly as they stand in the shadow of long branches.

'If we wish to, I suppose. But it is enough to hope and pray in our hearts, I think.' Tuilindien kneels and sets her flower-crown, now a little crushed, at the base of the tree's wide trunk.

Carnistir follows her example, laying his crown beside hers.

After a moment of silence Tuilindien bows her head. 'Will you take the flowers out of my hair, my love? I would like to leave them here too.'

For once it is easy for Carnistir to say, because it is not an empty gesture of politeness but from his heart, 'It would be my pleasure.'

With careful fingers, he teases the little white flowers out of Tuilindien's curls.

Unlike the flower-crowns, these blooms are not the least bit crushed or withered. They are as whole, alive and fragrant as if they were still growing in the place from where they were plucked many hours ago. Carnistir's fingers tingle when he touches them. There must be an enchantment in the flowers, small but persistent, lending them vitality.

He sets them on the ground respectfully. Tuilindien tucks herself to his side and lays her head on his shoulder for a quiet moment.

Her hair smells faintly of the flowers.

Then she straightens and turns and kisses him on the lips, soft and sweet. She did not speak to the Valier, but she speaks to him now.

'You have been calling out to me for so long', Tuilindien say, touching his lips with a gentle finger. 'I am here now.'

Entranced, he cups the side of her face, caressing her cheek. For his answer, though, he must tell her, 'It was you who called out to me. I would have not pursued a Vanya otherwise.'

He does not mean it badly, only that she is the only one he would have chased after and worked hard for.

Tuilindien seems to understand. 'I love you, Carnistir', she says, softly but with conviction. 'And I am yours now. Will you have me?'

She puts her arms around his neck and rises on her toes, just a little, to make up for their difference in height, and kisses him hard and pulls him close to her.

Carnistir is a little taken aback that she does it here, at their improvised altar, but very soon – in a split second – decides that Yavanna and Vána are not ones to mind a display of love.

He laces his hands in Tuilindien's hair that is now free of adornments. There is just the soft, curly mass of it, turned into pale gold by the silver light. He kisses her with both ardour and tenderness, with all the passion in his body, and all the affection in his spirit.

Those feelings are more than he thought he could ever feel: stronger, surer than any anger he has ever felt. Yet they don't make him lose control like anger does. He wants to and he can go slow, as slow as is comfortable for Tuilindien and as allows him to savour every feeling, every touch on this first night.

When they break for air he leans his forehead on hers and tells her, 'Yes, yes, I will have you, my love, my vanimelda, I am yours.'

They kiss, touch, clutch and explore each other – Carnistir doesn't know for how long.

It is he who starts the undressing: he unclasps Tuilindien's silk cloak, because it gets in the way of caressing her, and that irritates him. He lets it fall to the ground next to the flowers they gifted to the Valier, and Tuilindien doesn't seem to mind.

'The shoulders of my dress can be unclasped too', she whispers between delightful little gasps as he kisses his way down her neck, tasting and nibbling.

Carnistir takes the hint and quickly figures out how to open the tiny clasps half-hidden in the fabric. The jewel-decorated wide straps slide down Tuilindien arms, and then the whole dress. It pools on the ground, a pale puddle at Tuilindien's feet.

She still has a chemise and petticoat on, but she presses her body close against him, as if hiding from his gaze.

'You can take my clothes off too', Carnistir says with a dry mouth. To comfort her by evening up the situation, and to keep things moving. He likes the direction they've been moving very much, and has accepted that they may not be going back inside the house to complete their union.

As Tuilindien reaches for the brooch fastening his cloak, Carnistir's heart beats fast, as if wanting to gallop to the next moment.

He kisses the top of her head as she bends it to open the brooch and draw the heavy cloak from his shoulders.

He undoes his own belt, because he thinks she might be too shy for that step.

Tuilindien's fingers dance down his side to the hem of his grey surcoat, caressing at his thigh. 'It looks like silver in this light', she says dreamily before pulling the surcoat up and off him.

If this were any other moment he would be tempted to point out that actually, most things look silvery in this light.

But even in this moment, Tuilindien's remark shakes him out of his haze of his desire and he realises now, with less clothes on, that it is actually rather cold and it would not be as perfect as it could be, should be to join with Tuilindien in cold, wet grass.

Yet the house feels so far away –

Ah. Carnistir's eyes happen on the nearby pavilion . It has large windows, but they are glazed. It should be a little warmer inside.

He remembers that the long benches in there are cushioned and there are large pillows, too, for Tuilindien to lean on while she reads. They could be used for something else too…

While he forms plans in his mind, Tuilindien runs her hands down his back under his tunic, caressing his skin and sending flares of heat up his spine, and then pulls it off with a careful movement.

As she is about to touch his bare chest, he takes hold of her wrist, gently, and then sweeps her in his arms. She doesn't resist in the least, relaxing in his hold, trusting.

While he carries her to the pavilion, Carnistir's heart aches at her trust in him.

He deposits her on the pavilion's steps and then dashes back to get his cloak. It is soft and warm. He wants Tuilindien to have something like that to lie on when he takes her.

Tuilindien kisses him on the threshold when he gets back, quick but intimate. He opens the door and leads her inside, looking around to see everything in order.

'I thought – the long cushions on the benches, and the smaller ones too, on the floor –' He is even farther from eloquent than usual. All coherent speech seems to have left him.

Tuilindien understands him, though, and together they put together a makeshift bed on the floor. Before Tuilindien lies down Carnistir spreads his cloak on top of the cushions for her to lie on, a velvet sheet for his bride.

She could not look lovelier than she does there on the burgundy fabric, dressed only in her underclothes, her hair spread out around her, soft brown skin flushed. For a moment he can do nothing but stare. Tuilindien blushes more when she notices, but she looks at him too, and doesn't try to cover herself anymore.

He shakes himself out of the daze again. Why stare when he can touch, kiss, taste, explore all of her?

Join his body with hers, become truly married.

He joins her on the cushions, settling over her on his hands and knees.

Looking into her eyes… after all the persuading he had to do during the early days of their relationship, all the apologies and mistakes, all the waiting and the fear that ate at him until this day that she might change her mind, he finds he has to ask.

'Are you certain that you want to bind yourself to me here and now?'

Tuilindien's eyes are a summer day's sea of blue and green, liquid-soft, bright, full of feeling. 'I could not be more sure', she answers, rising up on her elbows. 'I have made a promise to you already, and I find that… I was never more free than now when I am binding myself to you. I never wanted anything more. You do not need to be so careful, or hesitant. Don't you understand, my beloved, my desired, my fierce Noldo? I want all of your fire tonight.'

She opens her spirit more fully than ever before, and he knows that it is all true.

He lets go of his control, and does everything that he wants to do because she wants it too.

It would not have mattered if they had stayed outside under the tree, he realises later. It could not have mattered because they create their own fire that burns hotter and sweeter than they could have imagined.

'Yours, I, love, love', Tuilindien gasps when he holds her tight and makes her his, giving himself to her.

He cannot speak but it doesn't matter because she knows him and she knows what is in his heart and how his spirit and body adore her, his vanimelda, his fair, gentle beloved, his desired –

And he knows her, despite all their differences he knows her and as they lie in each other's arms, after, that connection continues to make him feel euphoric even as their bodies cool down.

He dries the tears on Tuilindien's cheek and pets her hair. She draws figures on his back with a finger and whispers indistinct sweetnesses in his ear with a broken voice.

They fall, gently, into a shared reverie, a hazy world of lovely half-dreams and half-memories for them to explore together.

*

Carnistir rouses.

Without turning his head, without opening his eyes, he knows that Tuilindien's spirit is still in Lórien's hold while her body is tucked close to him, his arm around her and her head on her shoulder. She breathes peacefully, and Carnistir finds he doesn't wish to wake her. He would have her find more rest if she can. He could not be in less of a hurry to go anywhere or do anything.

When he opens his eyes he can tell that it is fully morning, for out of the pavilion's skylight he can see golden light in the air. He can hear birds in the surrounding trees starting to sing their morning chorus.

The air is still cool as it is on spring mornings and Carnistir can smell night-dew from the outside, but he is not cold, not with his wife close to him, her long, long hair draped all over his chest.

He smiles, though there is no one to see it.

It is the first in an eternity of mornings together.

*

A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you, to everyone who made it to this chapter that was posted over three years after I started posting this fic, my first true longfic. Whether you've been reading since then, or just read all of this in one go, I appreciate you and hope to hear your thoughts and feelings about this chapter in a comment. I'd love to hear which bits you liked best!

I know that Carnistir and Tuilindien will not actually have an uninterrupted eternity of happy mornings together, but I blocked that from my mind when writing this, because they don't know it yet.(I'm sorry for that one tiny bit of foreshadowing.)

This is it for this particular fic but I have ideas for many more about Carnistir and Tuilindien. I have one little fic that is almost complete about how much Carnistir adores Tuilë's hair and how hot and bothered it makes him feel. So look out for that in a few weeks' time perhaps? The other fics about their future are still largely unwritten.

[plasticbattleaxe]

A BASIC GUIDE TO DIGITAL ART ON PROCREATE

okay so i joined the digital art scene about a year or so ago and it has been a total whirl! there’s so much stuff that’s so confusing and hard to understand at first. And that’s okay! A stupid amount of what constitutes as “good” or “complex” art is to do with layers, patience and experience. 

and because literally every tutorial on here is for Paint Tool Sai i thought it might be useful for those of us using Procreate! because i don’t have sai and i have a relatively shit laptop by comparison to my Ipad.

so without further ado - here is how to make a KICKASS piece of art on procreate 

1.  REFERENCE + SKETCH

the first thing you're gonna wanna do is collect any references you need for thing youre tryna make. you can collect references by finding stock images, using other artists work (i use these mostly for colour refs cause i SUCK at finding good colours). however when i make art nowdays i usually just snap a selfie and use that. for this work i did the last option (see below)

after grabbing my reference i decide on the style i wanna use. for beginer artists what i suggest doing is just pasting the image onto your canvas, opening layers and adjust the opacity to around 20% by clicking on the little N on your layer with the photo. then once thats done add a new layer by clicking the + and work over that

for more experienced artists experimenting with style just stick that bad bitch reference in the corner, then open a new layer and sketch in your own style.

when it comes to sketching i usually do little flicky lines. i do this with a mid grey (like 50% white 50% black) i recommend the “Narinder pencil” which you can find by clicking the little brush at the top, selecting sketching and then selecting that bad boy. you can adjust size and opacity using the sliders to the side of the screen.

when sketching you just wanna get a rough idea of where you’re gonna do your eventual lines - don’t worry about it being smooth or anything just get down where everything goes 

once you’re done you might have something like this:

this brings us too...

2. LINE ART 

for beginners - lineart is just a sexy word that means a clean drawing with hard lines so you can colour it easier and it looks prettier. you want to do this on a new layer so you can delete the sketch one later.

your goal with lineart is to make it three things:  1) its gotta be seamless so you can select the insides, don’t leave little gaps between lines 2) its gotta be smooth! jagged lineart isn’t NEARLY as sexy as smooth curvy lines 3) this one is more of a tip - but lineart generally looks better if you do thinner lines inside your shape with a slightly thicker border line. again this isn’t essential but i find it looks cuter 

the way i get my lineart all cute is by using the monoline brush (found in calligraphy). sometimes i use my own modified version of the Technical Pen (found in Inking) but mostly monoline is pretty neat. You can use whatever brush you want but mostly you just wanna ensure that its nice and smoooooth. you can do this by selecting the brush and then clicking it again. this will bring up a popup menu like this:

most of these brush settings are complicated and stupid and i’ll do a big post about it later. the only one that really matters here is streamline. if you wanna use a different brush for lineart just wack that slider up between 80-100% and you’re set.

once your lineart is finished on a seperate layer go to your layer menu and unselect the little tick on your sketch layer. you should be left with something like this. 

3. ADDITIONAL DETAIL LINEART + MONOCHROME BASES.

once your focus lineart is done you can add detailed lineart by repeating the same process with sketching and lineart i described above. i like to do details separate because if i dont like it i can just delete the whole layer without destroying my focus. 

what i find important in these now is using my favourite fuckin tool in this whole program. you can find it here:

Only start using this once youre 100% done with your lineart. once thats done - make sure youre on the lineart layer and click that weird little s at the top of the screen. go to the bottom and click automatic. then select somewhere INSIDE your lineart. it should do something like this:

don’t freak out! what that blue stuff means is that you've just selected the inside bit of your lineart. continue selecting until your subject is 100% coloured in. 

MAKE SURE THE BACKGROUND/STUFF OUTSIDE YOUR LINEART ISN’T SELECTED. ALSO MAKE SURE YOU’VE SELECTED THE LINES THEMSELVES. THEY WILL TURN WHITE ONCE THEYRE SELECTED. if u fuck up and select something by accident that’s all g, theres a little undo button on the bottom. if you click on the paint brush or another tool and you cant add stuff to your selection you can reload the mask by holding down on the weird s and the selection will reload. If there are certain bits of your work that you’re struggling to select with automatic selection that’s also not an issue. just click the “freehand” setting next to the automatic setting on the bottom and you can now use your stylus to draw around what you want to select.

once you’ve selected your foreground in its entirety - THEN click the layer button. insert a new layer underneath your lineart layer. Using literally any brush (works best if you get one from the painting section) colour EVERYTHING white. just get round brush and colour all of it. you wanna keep your line art layer separate over the top.

once all of it is coloured hold down on the weird s tool until it reloads the selection. then look along the bottom of the screen and click the little button that looks like 2 arrows pointing at each other. THIS INVERTS YOUR SELECTION. Open a new layer and make this entire thing a grey. THIS IS WHOLE STEP IS OPTIONAL BUT ITS SUPER USEFUL AND THE SELECTION TOOL IS SUPER HELPFUL FOR GOOD ART. DOING THIS WILL BE SUPER USEFUL WHEN YOU COLOUR STUFF LATER.

once you’re done it should look something like this:

4. BASE COLOURS

okay so this is where shit starts to get real. The goal of putting down base colours is to make is easier to add eventual shading to your piece and decide your colour scheme. This is where the white layer you just used is gonna become your BITCH.

you wanna start by duplicating your white layer you just made. You do that by opening your layer menu and swiping that thot to the left. this is what should happen:

click duplicate. Select the top duplicate you just made and select our favourite weird s tool. click inside your shape and the whole white shape should go blue (become selected). next, open a new layer on top of the white layer. colour in your base colours and now none of it can go outside the lines. you didn’t even have to do a billion selections. you just select inside the white blob on the layer we made the step before, opened a new layer and started colouring. fucking superb. so much time saved. DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I USED TO SUFFER BEFORE I THOUGHT OF THIS. HOW LONG I SPENT SELECTING AND RESELECTING I CANNOT

A TIP FOR PEEPS NEW TO THIS PROGRAM - if you use your finger and hold down on a colour you’ve just used it acts like an eyedropper tool so you can pick up any colour you want. like this:

once you got your base colours done you can either: 1) go to your grey layer you made in the last step and select the tick next to it. once you’ve done that scroll to the bottom of your layers and select background. it will open a colour wheel. pick your background colour. 2) you can use my second favourite tool from this program! go to your grey layer you made in the previous step. click on it, then click on it again. (not the little n just click the whole layer) this menu should pop up:

oh MAN okay so. “alpha lock” pretty much means that it locks whatever is on the layer. when you get another brush and go over a layer with alpha lock turned on you can only paint over what you have previously put on the layer before turning on alpha lock. Its like automatically selecting everything on the layer. its fucking brilliant. anyway. scribble over your grey layer (once alpha lock is on) and boom you have a base for your background.

NOW YOU KNOW ABOUT ALPHA LOCK YOU GO BACK TO YOUR LINEART LAYER. SELECT ALPHA LOCK. COLOUR IN YOUR LINES ROUGHLY 2 OR SO ISH SHADES DEEPER THEN YOUR BASE COLOURS 

(minus eyes i like to keep the lines around them black.)  this will make your art like 100000000 times nicer (majority of the time)

once you’re done you should get something like this:

this brings up to...

5. SHADING!!!!!!! this is my favourite step tbh.

what you wanna do is chuck on a new layer over the top of your base colours. and go into your brushes. pick up your basic bitch “round brush.” this is (in my opinion) the best painting brush in the program. Its the thing you can do the most with. so what you wanna do it get a slightly deeper colour from your colour wheel by yeeting your colour selection slightly more saturated and slightly more dark. dont just make it blacker move your colour selector on a diagonal to get a nicer colour. (i’ll eventually do a colour theory ref but today is NOT that day.)

i like to do colouring in short, light strokes. DON’T PRESS TOO HARD. you wanna get that cute little gradient.

A THING FOR BABY ARTISTS: on every art program i have ever used, the blending tool SUCKS. it makes paintings UGLY AF. (wow another tutorial i have to do at some point. i HATE the blending tool. SO HERE IS HOW I COLOUR MY ART TO MAKE IT LOOK, YKNOW, GOOD:

Unless you’re drawing something SUPER freaking smooth like a bubble or some shit. when you wanna blend colours what you gotta do is: 1) put in your darker colour. 2) use your finger to bring up the eyedropper tool to select a mid colour of the colours your blending together - a mix between your lighter and darker colour. (remember that tool? it looks like this)

3) Paint the colour you just made in the middle of your lighter and darker shades. REPEAT THIS PROCESS ON EITHER SIDE OF THE COLOUR YOU JUST PUT DOWN TILL IT LOOKS GOOD. The result is an WAY sexier piece of art.

once you’ve put in all your shadows repeat the same process with highlights.

FUN TIP: if you decide you dislike a colour or want to change the colour you already did all the shading for you can change the colour without any major drama. You can do this by select ing the colour on your colour wheel you would like to change your already shaded work too. (make sure you’re on the right layer.) then hold down on the colour dot on the top bar (next to your layer settings) and drag it to whatever you want recoloured. let go of the dot and it should recolour your work (including all the shading you’ve done granted that its on the same layer) like this:

once you’ve got all your shading done it should look something like this:

6. background and pretty bits

so! youve got this kickass work but nothing surrounding it. lets fix that.

In procreate there is SO MUCH you can use to spice up a work. a SCARY amount even. this is when layer settings are gonna start to come in handy.

ill do a masterpost on procreate brushes for backgrounds later, but for this piece what im gonna do it head over to the Luminescence section and pick up a “nebula brush”. this makes a complex galaxy kinda design in a randomised stamping pattern that is frankly SEXY AS ALL HELL. Select a layer below your base colours but above your background colour. IMPORTANT NOTE: this brush’s blend mode is autimatically set to “add” (ILL DO ANOTHER POST ON THAT LATER)which means if you go over the same spot heaps of times it will eventually go a bright white. This can be nice, but its not really what i want cause its kinda intense. to make this thing go glowy but not ~too~ glowy im gonna lower the brush opacity (the bottom slider) to around half way. i set my colour to a light yellow and a darkish pink and put in some nebulas!!!! once that was done I wantd to add some more colour variation so i popped open a new layer - selected the lightleak tool and lowered the brush opacity using the slider to around 20% just to spice some shit up

you can kinda do whatever you want for your background. sometimes its nicer just to go into artistic, select a random brush and draw a square underneath what you were doing. backgrounds can be super detailed or super easy it doesn’t really matter to be 100% honest.

THE PART 2 OF THIS STEP WILL ADD HEAPS OF DIMENSION TO YOUR WORK AND MAKE IT SUPER PRETTY: adding light effects over the TOP of your main subject often creates a more realistic sense of depth. In simple terms it just makes the thing look more 3D and nice. to do this, get a random brush with a nice (preferably light) colour. i picked up a “bokeh brush” from the Luminescence section. make this pretty big. sprinkle your brush across the page on a NEW LAYER above all of your work so far, including line art! Then open your layer menu and click that little n in the corner again. Remember this one:

click the little n. then go down to the bottom and select a layer setting from either of the 2 groups circled (i normally like overlay for this type of thing) you can mess around with layer settings and opacity till you find something that looks super nice. My piece now looks like this:

pretty cool right. now we’re gonna make it EVEN COOLER.

7. LIGHT FILTERS

this is something i picked up from artists like softmushie and cryptidw00rm. (not gonna @ them here cause they probs dont wanna get tagged in my shitty tutorial thing but yeah i owe so much to those two especially)

for those unsure of what im talking about: light filters are layers you add over work to make the lighting on it seem more natural and pretty. you do this by colouring over your natural highlights and shadows with different colours and then messing with the layer settings to make it seem like its being hit by sunlight. these layers go BELOW your foreground stuff (the bokeh lights from step 6) but ABOVE your lineart.

start by opening a new layer. select a colour similar to where the green outlines are here:

now on this layer paint over anywhere where the sun or other light source would be normally hitting (like cheekbones hair etc.) this can be kind of like shading. dont worry if it looks shit at first we’re gonna change it.

open a new layer beneath the one you just made. Using a colour similar to one circled in purple above colour over all the shadows in a piece. it should now look like this:

now open your layer settings on the purple/darker  layer by selecting the N like we did with the foreground layer before. you can play around from here by setting the layer mode to anything from the “darken” or “contrast” menu. For this work i chose overlay. I then lowered the opacity until it looked nice.

Repeat the step above with the lighter highlight layer. when adjusting this one make sure you set the layer mode to anything from the “lighten” or “contrast” menu. For this work i did hard light.

your peice should now look kind of like this:

AND YOU’RE DONE!!!!!!!!

look at that sexy thing you just did. Congrats on creating an awesome peice of art!!!!!!

if you guys are interested in more tutorials like these or have any reqs for similar stuff send me a question or a dm to my blog @plasticbattleaxe

if you create anything by following  tutorial that you want me to see don’t hesitate to tag me or submit it to my blog!!! i love seeing y’all make art

also - i know it’s annoying - but reblogs > likes. thanks for your support

i hope someone finds this useful!!!!!

[convell4]

Qrows Ruby’s Father

Okay, First off, SPOILERS AHEAD FROM THE END OF RWBY SEASON 6, Second, I would prefer this to be a conversation and not an argument, so during this (probably long) post I am going to be stating theories, evidence etc but I am also going to posting the evidence against them, so its fair. At the end of the day this is all just theory making. I will state that I support this theory, although I have no problem with anyone who doesn’t. You believe whatever you want to believe, I’m not going to fight you over it. Finally, this post is going to basically be an essay as I am going to try put everything together that I’ve seen, their counter arguments and a bunch of images.

Point A

So for point A I’m going to state that throughout the series when it comes to the younger characters, they very much seem to follow the looks and traits of their parents, especially when it comes to what clothes they wear, what colours those clothes are generally their fighting style has at least some hints of their parents.

The Schnee Family

One of the best examples is the Schnee Family. As you can see in the picture the entire family has white hair (although I believe that WorstFatherTM dyed his), the same skin tone and in general they all wear smart, formal clothing that is coloured white. The entire family has also seemed to inherit blue eyes. Personality wise, Weiss began out as very formal, closed of from emotion and rather stuck up, which she likely comes from being in a very upper class, rich family. When it comes to fighting styles, we don’t have any information on whether either of Weiss’s parents were huntresses or had a fighting style etc, however Weisses family owning one of the biggest dust companies definitely contributes to her use of dust. It is also likely that Weiss chose her weapon and a lot of her elegant fighting style techniques from her older sister Winter, who she seems to have looked up to when growing up.

The Belladonna Family:

Next is the Belladonna Family. The entire family has black hair, blake has also inherited Kali’s ears and seemingly her long hair with bangs that cover her forehead. While from Ghira she has more seemed to inherit a sense of dress code when it comes to clothes that reveal a bit of skin. The family also have the same cat like, yellow eyes.Blake also follows the same color scheme as her family, With the White, Black and purple clothing. Personality wise, Blake has seemed to inherit the trait of wanting to fight for justice and rights for her race, just like her parents. She also has a strong sense of brotherhood when it comes to the White fang.One thing I however cannot connect are fighting styles, as Blake seems to be more of a rogue/finesse type of Fighter where as Ghira is definitely a head on brawler, Kali doesn’t really have a fighting style, she just hits people over the head with trays. 

The Ren Family:

Ren and his family. When it comes to inherited traits, from season 1-3 Ren has a similar short hair style to is mother, An, he has also inherited her pink eyes, however he has also inherited his dads, Li, black hair. From season 4-6 he has also grown his hair out longer and is now at least a similar length to what his fathers hair was. Rens personality definitely seems to have at least a bit of each of his parents, most of the time he is calm,collected and thoughful. Ren follows the colour scheme of his parents where it comes to the colour of his clothing, with the greens, blacks and gold-ish outlines. Ren has not seemed to pick up a fighting style from either of his parents, from what we know it seems like only Rens father was a fighter. However Ren didn’t inherit using a bow like his father. Personally I would put this down to that her didn’t have his father to teach him how to use the bow and he also didn’t like to look back on his past due to how terrible it was, so he likely learned his fighting style from scratch. The Xiao Long Family:

Like everyone else, Yang has inherited a lot from her parents. Yang has blonde hair just like her father but it seems to be a darker compared to Tai’s. This is likely due to Ravens hair being Black and making it a darker shade, her hair is also very similar to Ravens in both its length and style. Yang has inherited Ravens deep red eyes, but only when she becomes angry, usually her eyes are purple, which is a colour mix between Tai’s blue eyes and Ravens red. Personality wise Yang seems to follow more in Ravens footsteps, fighting more aggressively, using her anger as a funnel in fights. She has also seemed to inherit Ravens lighter skin tone and complexion. Yangs clothing colour scheme is very close to Tai’s with brown, orange and pale colours. She has also copied his red Bandanna like material wrapped around his arm, however choosing to wrap it around her leg instead. Her fighting style is definitely inherited from Tai, as we have seen them both sparing and training together, this is likely due to the fact that Tai was the only one around when Yang was younger, as Raven wasn’t present.

The Rose Family:

In the picture above we can see A LOT of Ruby in Summer. The short hair style, Silver eyes, Light skin. However from this image it does seem like Summers hair is a straight red colour, Where as if we look at Ruby, her hair seems to go from a Black to a dark red towards the tips of her hair.  Ruby even dresses the same with the cape and high cut clothing, The inside of Summers cape being a very similar red as to Ruby’s entire cape, outfit and weapon. Ruby even seems to inherit Summers petal effect, However we don’t see anything from Tai, there are no prominent inherent body features like skin tone, hair or eye colour (granted that the silver eyes are story driven and likely a more inheritable feature) Ruby also doesn’t seem to follow a colour scheme similar to Tai, nor wear similar clothing. However, if we look at Qrow..

Qrow has Black hair just like his sister with hints of grey throughout it. He also has bangs in front of his forehead just like Summer and Ruby. Qrows dark hair could explain how dark Ruby’s hair is. Qrows skin tone is also similar to that of Ruby’s, or it is at least a lot lighter than Tai’s. Clothing colours are similar with dark colour, especially black and red, The cape is also a feature of Qrow however Ruby’s cape is very must tailored to be like Summers compared to Qrows. When it comes to Ruby’s personality, ruby has been seen to be quite stubborn at times, but thats only when it comes to doing whats right. Its kind of thought that out of the four members of team STRQ, Summer was likely the Kindest, most bright person in the group, likely followed by Tai, this could go a lot towards Ruby personality as Ruby is always one who seems to be holding out hope and never giving up. Ruby’s fighting style is exactly like Qrows because he is the one who trained her, just like Tai trained Yang. This is likely due to not only Ruby wanting to be like her uncle by having the same fighting style and weapon, but also because Tai would of likely been busy training Yang in his fighting style at the time. This could also be down to Ruby being physically strong enough to be a brawler like Tai and Yang. Point A Summary: Every Character Inherits something from each of their parents, however Ruby only seems to inherit something from Summer and not Tai. Where as if you match Summer and Qrow together it makes a pretty good case on how Ruby looks and acts. Points A Counter Argument: As far as I have seen for a counter argument on this point, people point that Ruby’s fighting style has only come from her looking up to her uncle and following his steps, which does make sense. However so far I have not seen an explanation as to why she doesn’t seemingly have any of Tai’s inheritable body traits (feel free to tell me if there is one)

Point B

Point B is a quick and short one that has a really quick counter argument. Qrows song, Bad Luck Charm. Bad Luck Charm is about Qrows semblance of bad luck and how it effects the people he’s close too. The song in general talks about everyone near him, however there is one line, “ You don't want the burden of my name” that can be more turned towards someone a lot closer to qrow compared to anyone else, likely a family member. Taking on and using someones name, specifically their last name is most likely due to either marrying said person, or being their child. This continues on with the theory of Qrow being Ruby’s dad with the idea that qrow is terrified of his semblance and maybe even superstitious of it, Possibly believing that by even inheriting his last name, Ruby could be cursed with bad luck, let alone even being in Ruby’s life as a father figure.

Point B Summary:

Some Lines in Bad Luck charm could be giving hints towards such things

Point B Counter Argument:

Jeff Williams, the creator of the RWBY Soundtrack has stated that none of the songs are Canon material and they are just made by him from scratch

Point C

Point C is a continuation from point B, Qrows semblance. Qrows semblance is literal bad luck, not just to himself but everyone around him. And he no control over it. However he is close to is going to experience it. This has most prominently come up so far in his fight with Tyrian, but theres definitely other moments of it being shown. Because his semblance is uncontrollable, having anyone close leads to them having bad things happen around to them, this loops over to my previous point that if Qrow was around Ruby as a father when she was a lot younger, this could of caused a lot of bad situations. One theory that I’ve seen a lot is that Qrow may feel he himself is responsible for Summers death (leading him to become an alcoholic) and you could believe in this whether you ship Qrow & Summer or whether you don’t, the theory doesn’t rely on them being together. However, if we go with the idea that Qrow is Ruby’s father, being close to someone with such a semblance you believed led to the death of not only your loved one, but the mother of your child, would be no easy task. It would be an a lot better cause to keep your distance from the daughter, to try spare her from not only the semblance, but the truth at what Qrow believes the cause of Summers Death

Point C Summary:

Qrows Semblance makes qrow not want to be near anyone, but even more specifically Ruby due to the possibility he believe his semblance had a hand in Summers Death

Point C Counter Argument:

Qrow could still feel responsible for Summers death even if Qrow was not in a relationship with Summer. This goes the same with him trying to stay away from Ruby as much so that he doesn’t effect her life.

Point D

Point D is about the 3 photo’s we see of Team STRQ, but mainly about Qrows photo in particular.

Tai’s home photo:

As you can see, Tai’s home photo of the team is in pretty much pristine condition and is framed, there’s no markings on the photo and it doesn’t seem to have suffered any type of damage. Where as Qrows: 

Has definitely seen a lot more use. For starters the colours on the picture have began to fade, likely meaning its been out in the open air a lot or at lead has been looked at a lot. The material the picture is on is also bent meaning its likely always carried in a pocket or something similar, which makes sense as Qrow is not the type of person to settle in one singular spot. Next is the ring over Summer, this is likely to be either a glass or bottle ring from where they have been places on top of the image. Specifically the bottle or glass would be covering Summers face, which could suggest that Qrow doesn’t want to look at Summer or maybe even can’t bear to see her (this goes back to him feeling responsible) Next are the droplets on the page, I believe these can be seen as one or two things, tears or drink stains. If drink stains, it could mean that Qrow has been looking over the photo while he’s drunk, or even looking at it may have started causing him to drink even more. If they are tear stains then it could be seen as a sign of mourning, grief or regret, and Qrow covering up Summers face becomes even more meaningful. Point D Summary: Qrow carries around a damaged picture of team STRQ which shows a lot of connotations that he has dealt with some emotions over the picture Point D Counter Argument: Qrow could just be sad about the collapse of his team, or solely over Summers death.

Point E

For point E I want to Solely talk about Qrow and his line of work. Qrow is likely considered a master huntsmen. Due to the clan he was born in he has been trained almost all his life to not only fight Grimm, but also other people as well. He is highly trained and likely a major threat to almost anyone he faces, he is also affiliated with Ozpin and has been working with him for years. As he does work with Ozpin, this essentially puts him on Salems kill list as one way or another he is a threat to her plans. We also know that Salem will do pretty much anything to make her plans successful, so if qrow was found to have a daughter, who also happened to have Silver eyes, its likely that Ruby would of been targeted by Salem a lot sooner, most definitely when she was younger. This would of destroyed the possibility of a silver eyes warrior getting in Salems way and hurting qrow in the process Point E Summary: Qrow would of stayed away from due to his line of work so he wouldn’t put her in danger Point E Counter Argument: The Same can be said whether Qrow is Ruby’s father or not

Point F

For this point I want to talk about the timeline between Yang and Ruby’s birth. From what we can tell from the timeline we’ve been given, their births goes in an order similar to this: Tai and Raven are together - Yang is born - Raven leaves - Tai goes through grief and evidently gets with Summer - Ruby is Born - Summer dies  According to their ages, Ruby is between a year and a half to two years younger than Yang, I believe, according to their birthdays, they are 1 year and 8 months apart. Now this is where my knowledge gets a bit Hazy so please forgive me, but I believe it takes 9-12 months to fully conceive a baby. Which means that within 8 months, maybe even less, Tai moves on from someone who he loves and had a child with, to someone else and then also has another child. Personally that seems very out of character for someone lie Tai but then that also could possibly come down to the stages of Grief. The 8 months also drops considerably when you consider that Raven most definitely wouldn’t of left home directly after giving birth to Yang. If you consider that it can take up to or over 2 months for someone to recover their full strength after giving birth, Raven may have not left for 3-4 months, which means Tai would of have to gotten with Summer with 4-6 months, which in my mind is rather ridiculous.  Point F Summary: Tai would of had to move on very quickly and thats a very shitty thing to do Point F Counter Point: I can’t think of one for this tbh, let me know if you can

Point G

Qrows Closeness to Ruby, For point G I would like to talk about how close Qrow is to Ruby, this is kinda a hit or miss point as it depends on each individuals persons opinion. However, I believe I and a lot of people who think of Qrow being Ruby’s dad, think that Qrow is a lot closer to Ruby then he is with Yang. Which could seem odd since Qrow is physically blood related to Yang. Of course Blood doesn’t mean everything, however from what the show actually gives us, Qrow and Yang don’t even have that many direct conversations and when they talk with each other someone else is usually present (Qrow, Yang and Ruby playing video games comes to mind) Where as Qrow and Ruby have definitely had several personal and more alone conversations comparatively. This shows that Qrow is definitely a lot more in contact with Ruby over Yang

Point G Summary:

Qrow is a lot closer with Ruby than comparatively to someone who is blood related, like Yang

Point G Counter Argument:

This could be due to Yang being older, Qrow may feel he needs to support Ruby more than Yang due to her being Younger, Yang also has a close relationship with her father Tai, meaning she likely doesn’t need to converse with Qrow in such ways often.

Point H 

I wanna leave point H up to @anthurak with their amazing post on what happened during Season 6 and what Qrow and Ruby’s relationship is like in comparison to other parents https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/anthurak/182407206555

My Counters to what people say against this Theory:

This is just going to be a bunch of stuff I’ve seen written against the theory that I’d also like to discuss.

“Monty, Miles & Kerry have all debunked this theory” - True, that does mean its not likely to be cannon, however there has been cases in the past where creators will say something will not happen and it eventually does. But, whether it happens or not. Its still no reason to fight over it, just let people be, ship what they want and theorize what they want.

“Why would they add this? it seems unnecessary to the plot” - Personally I don’t think any kind of character development is unnecessary and anything that changes the character in some form is welcome. But just as an example if it was revealed that Qrow was Ruby’s father, we could have several things like these:

It could lead qrow and ruby to have more heart felt conversation, including a deep conversation about Summer

It would take the weight of the secret of both Tai's and Qrows conscience it could lead qrow to taking more adult responsibility and further his journey of not going back to the booze.

It could make Ruby and Yangs relation even stronger because it says "we'll still be sisters even if we're not related"

It would bring conflict along with resolution. Conflict: Ruby finds out, it makes her question a lot of things and look for answers Resolution: She ends up confronting Qrow about it, learns more about his and summers relationship, why the hid it etc. It could also continue on with Ruby telling Tai that she know sand they go from there, or even telling Yang and they have a conversation about how it doesn't change anything about them being sisters

There’s a lot of possibilities that could lead to great character development and could make characters a lot more conscious of their choices.

But yeh, thats about all I got so far. If you read the entire thing then I very much appreciate it. I felt the sudden urge to write this after getting my first ever Tumblr hate mail, so thank you random anon! If anyone wants to have Conversation about any of this with me, whether you believe the theory or not then I am more than willing, as long as it doesn’t turn into a rage contest.

[melonpanarts]

Empire of Destiny preview

If you would like to read the full chapter+ chapter 1, send me a message or an ask!

I dedicate this entire fanfiction to my fren @sacredtreasurealdan because I love their Melizabeth fanfictions

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At the breakfast table now sat three lovely young women, and a tired old man. Elizabeth looked down at her newly given hands and smiled, before turning to her sisters and father. Veronica was now a tomboyish looking woman, with short purple hair that stopped just around her ears, a serious look in her chocolate brown eyes, and a small frown on her face. She was clothed in a yellow, high-collared, long-sleeved shirt, with a red dress over that with frilly shoulder straps. A small orange ribbon tied into a bow was attached to the middle of the chest area on the dress, completing the look. Margaret was now a lovely young woman, with long light purple hair cascading in small waves around her shoulders, her face set in a soft expression, a smile shimmering in her chestnut brown eyes. A slightly lighter shade than Veronica’s, but still brown nonetheless. Adorning her body was a floor-length navy blue dress, with ruffles around the hem in the chest area, as well as lining the straps that lay resting on her shoulders, and another set that lay resting just below the point where her shoulder stopped. King Baltra was a matching visage to both of his oldest daughters, yet his hair was a light grey, having lost its purple luster from old age. It was more similar to Elizabeth’s, if a bit darker. Draped over his shoulders was a dark blue cape with white fur trim, and gold buttons lining the front. Underneath the cape was a white shirt with navy blue buttons, and gold lining the shoulders. His matching pants were held by a black leather belt with a golden clasp.

All three princesses smiled at their father, before the doors opened and butlers began to step in, carrying the day’s breakfast on trays. As the staff did this, the main doors opened and more nobles and royals began to walk in, prepared to be seated for breakfast. They were chased after and assisted by maids, the girls frantically tripping over themselves and each other as they made the dragons in human form more comfortable. People began to take their seats at the large table, and food was placed down onto the table. Conversation immediately started up, and was held and added onto by everyone at the table. The clinking of glasses and the delicate eating of food and the chatter of others was what could be heard, and everyone was having a grand time. The only one at the table who was not engaged in the conversation was Elizabeth, as she simply stared down at her food, her one blue eye staring solely at her food. She quietly ate, and listened to the chatter of the adults around her. She was the youngest at the table, and even if everyone at the table was at least several thousand years old. She was only a few thousand. Dragons aged slower than humans, yet time for them passed faster than it did for the humans. They could watch generations of humans go by, and have not aged a single bit. Elizabeth felt lonely sometimes, being the youngest, and therefore the only one without dragons her age that she could relate to. She didn’t have many friends, Howzer and Gilthunder and Griamore could be considered friends, but they were Holy Knights, and were usually out on the job, and did not have time to hang out with her. And being the youngest princess, she did not yet have any duties, unlike her sisters. So she was usually spending time with the children, reading stories to them and holding activities for them. Elizabeth glanced back up to the table of chattering royals, sighed, then looked back down to her food. She wished she had something fun to do.

Somewhere else, a group of dragons were flying through the sky, minding their own business and bothering no one. They were all of the same sort of colouring, browns and blacks, they were a pack. As they were flying, they noticed a lone green dragon flying through the air towards them, shimmering smooth green and yellow scales, with hints of black here and there. The pack of dragons growled at the intruder passing by their territory, and moved in to attack. The green dragon, who noticed their incoming attacks, immediately moved to dodge, swiftly and smoothly avoiding all of the attacks. He simply moved out of their way and continued flying, making his way to his destination. The dragon pack, enraged that their attacks had been so effortlessly avoided, opened their mouths, a magic attack charging within. The green dragon ignored this, if need be, he could easily avoid or reflect the attack. But then something caught his eye, something that distracted him from the oncoming attack of the other dragons. His green eyes widened as the light spewing from the thing grew brighter and brighter, and his senses rung danger. The yellow green dragon turned his body to roar, to warn the other dragons to get away, but they released their attack, and he was not prepared, and he was hit, and he fell. And he narrowly missed the fall of the thing heading towards them as it hit the pack of dragons, and sped with speeds unreachable towards the green yellow dragon’s original destination. And the dragon was knocked unconscious and had fallen into a deep fissure hole in the ground above the area they had been flying over. Which in turn caused him to miss the large scale explosion that happened just an hour after, and the panic and the screams of the dragons as everything was soon gone.

[gg-astrology]

BTS: Virgo Boys - Namjoon’s Fashion Sense (Venus)

Virgo Boys Masterlist: JK Series | NJ Series

*Note: there’s some minor details about Jimin’s fashion sense in this post, since they both have Scorpio Venus. But for the most part, this focuses more on Joon.

We can’t make a series about Namjoon without mentioning his love for fashion. Now let’s look a bit at why Namjoon is such a fashionophile.

So there’s this idea that Venus can tell you a lot about the way you dress right? Well it’s true, but it’s also part of the ASC on how you come across/self-identity as well. Since we don’t have his ASC we’re going to look at how his other placements might help inform his Venus and make up-- generally how Joon dresses. 

(look at this dashing kid!) 

Interest in Fashion | Sagittarius Moon - Scorpio Venus 

With Joon he’s always been pretty fashion forward. That part comes with being open to fashion choices and appreciating self-expressions from others as well.

If he cares about what he puts on himself (fashion as a self-expression), he cares about fashion and that’s the way he’s communicating about things. People who share the same interest/care as much as he does (Taehyung, Hoseok) is sort of like being the same stream of things. That’s opposed to people who cares about fashion only to be mainstream. It’s not the same line of communication that he’s coming from. Mostly because It’s not coming from a place that’s personal to them so there’s no intensity there. 

That inner intensity (Scorpio) is being a part of a intimate/community (Venus) and seeing yourself personalized and expressed in the same wavelengths as others (being able to relate to others socially). It’s about having a dialogue/conversation about how fashion is expressed individually. Caring about the personalized experience of someone else, being involved/life-changing experience by their own self-expression. That’s sharing/creating a community of self-expression and it involves the person putting a part of themselves (intimate and personal) into what they create/express about themselves, as well as opening themselves up for others to inquiring/asking about it. (Scorpio).  

It’s a culture, but also a very personal and image-creating has always been part of what he enjoys/feels like represents himself. To understand where that might stem from, compare it to his childhood photos. Although most kids usually wear what is already prepared for them. It’s like once he takes control of what he wants to put out/self-express it jump-start his self-discovery process, creating his own identity and establishing his independent as well. 

I know childhood photo is weird to talk about because we usually dress so differently when we begin picking things to define ourselves with. But it’s a good scenario to think about, because Sagittarius/Scorpio both talks about independence/establishing that independence somehow. It has to start somewhere (physically) in order for the person to go ‘oh shit, I found something that’s truly me’ y know. It’s that moment where you finally figure out the perfect jigsaw puzzle to your personality, that makes you feel whole and compete by yourself about yourself. Everything clicks, and you’re awed/amazed-- moved by the lining of fate for once in your life. 

But sometimes it comes with like, a rebellious nature as well. When his Moon and his Venus are in signs next to each other there’s that sense of transformation that comes with some sort of anarchy (Scorpio-Sagittarius). 

Fashion is a statement, a way to explore both his Sagittarius placement (being open-minded/’doesn’t mind trying a lot of different styles once’) and Scorpio placement (personalizing himself, accumulating material goods, establishing control externally for himself). So it makes sense that it would be a big part of what Namjoon is invested in. 

Everybody thinks Taurus is the one that talks about material wealth but Scorpio does too. There’s this idea of control that Scorpio (and Taurus) talks about. Having a power/dominance over something in his life, such as his fashion choices gives that Scorpio something they can stabilize themselves in. Outwardly it’s like a stress-reliever for him, but it’s also serving to internally give him something to depend on.

Scorpios are all about personalization of themselves, combined that with Sagittarius Moon -- it lifts and fuels each other, pushing that narrative of ‘this is what I want, this is who I am’

Material Excesses | Scorpio Venus 

Forget about Scorpio being dark and moody when you have a Sagittarius somewhere significant in your chart. Although Scorpio likes to express themselves covertly, Sagittarius is so loud and indicative of your fashion choice that it over-powers that covert Scorpio. Looking at your other placement, like Moon and ASC tells you a lot more about how you come across to others/your intensions behind your fashion. 

Scorpio in this case indicates a personalization of the self, a sense of control/stability and being selective of what he’s putting on his body. With Jimin it’s in his accessories; he personalizes what he puts on and does it in excess. Namjoon’s the same, but with him it’s the clothes. He personalizes his clothes/how it fits/wears on him and does it in excess as well.

In a way that’s a physical manifestation of Scorpio’s drive/power, when it’s being turned into excess of material wealth. Because they can tend to buy a lot of things to stabilize their external ‘appearance’ when/if their internal self feels like it’s in turmoil/transforming. (Seeking internal stability, able to transform/control their external self) 

Little cheat sheet for Taurus- Scorpio: 

Taurus- internal stability for exterior control. Desire to be in control of their environment, has internal stability (reluctant to move).

Scorpio - exterior stability for interior control. Desire to be in control of their internal stability, has exterior control. (dependable to other people/coldness)  

So in a way Scorpio are great at consistency, but consistency in terms of style/personalizing --being in control of what they put on the body. 

Everything has to have a meaning, or a significance. Whether it’s prestige (but meaningful ones like helping an organization, etc.) or a personal meaning. 

“Black” | Scorpio Venus  

Jimin and Namjoon also tends to gravitate more towards darker colored clothes.  A stable in their closet this a strong black. 

Sometimes the black is in the little details, like sunglasses or `shoes. Socks, shorts, pants. Sometimes they gravitate towards louder colors (Namjoon definitely does) but there’s always a black in there somewhere that ties everything together to make a ‘complete’ ensemble in their fashion choices/stance. 

Even when they’re fully colourful outfits, the darker tone/theme is significant to creating dimension/perspective layers to their outfit/style. Like becoming base/background to highlight and balance an accessory piece/an outfit piece to pop even more. It serves a purpose, and that’s to balance and ground the brighter things. That’s part of why they look ‘put together’ or ‘intentional’  

It plays into Scorpio’s inner-power (driven into their fashion) having a ‘powerful presence’. Because that’s kind of the goal Scorpio Venus has. Jimin and Namjoon are two members who always seems the most ‘put-together’/adding a little effort to appear somehow immaculate. It’s giving that impression off to others, but it also brings a sense of inner-peace/calmness to them. Again, it’s to do with control. But the darkness/absoluteness of black also tends to hide anything they don’t want to ‘overthink’ about (Libra Mercury) and is a good ‘peace of mind�� stable to go to when lost. 

“White” | Virgo Sun 

Also, Namjoon wears a lot of simple colours. With brighter cool tones, white is a good grounding colour. It’s either black or white with him, but the white is more to do with that Virgo popping in. 

There’s a simplicity to white, instead of styling with the black pieces, this is about simplifying with the white. There’s a simplistic nature to it-- anything that looks good simply is worn to balance/base everything else out. That means the white serves as part of the piece, not as a mid-ground or background colour for other pieces to ‘fit’ in.  It doesn’t act as like the void darkness brings, the significance of the white is to equal/evenly-weigh everything together. 

When you pair white with black, the white becomes the ‘colour’ that pops (lighter shade?) while the black sets the grounded-ness/stability/background for the white. 

(Joon plays with silhouette/textures a lot. That’s part of his ‘consistency’)

Also, Namjoon definitely he follows some kind of trend (definitely) but he always finds comfort within himself to make things (trends) his own style (immortalize it, as a part/season of his life). That kind of consistency which is why his fashion choices always seems to be prominent part of him. 

Let’s say like, on the opposite end of the spectrum is Hobi. Who also cares alot about fashion. But he consistently shifts from style to style, and that inconsistency defines his personalized fashion style. Paradoxical but makes sense? Consistency is key to both of them. 

Ending Notes | 

Mercury actually plays a part in fashion choices as well, cause you’re still making conscious decisions on what you like, what type you want, what your style is. 

Like the post-process of deciding who you are/defining your Venus individual style is made through Mercury. You can pick and choose what you like instinctively sometimes (Moon/Venus) but then when it comes to someone mentioning your style (’oh you like wearing these types of clothes’) you come to evaluate yourself through your Mercury. It’s basically your informed decisions, a conclusion and product of what your Venus/Moon has already picked out from you. 

Also to note: your ASC does play a huge part in how other people perceive you. So if you feel like they didn’t do a good job identifying you, it’s most likely because you’re defining your fashion choices differently in your own mercury here.