#first thought on this one was actually going to be legolas being insecure about his ''naked'' chin when visiting erebor or aglarond

[tathrin]

Ehehe, hello, I am here to feed the procrastination gremlin! Those prompts all sound fun, but 21 and 28 are speaking to my heart rn.

Maybe 36 to if you feel up for it but it's your writing and you decide how many you wanna do<3

The procrastination gremlin thanks your mightily! Because I tend to Get Too Long when I write thing, I'm going to preemptively separate these out into their own posts and just assume that I'll ramble too much for it to make sense to do them all in one lmao. Also I will definitely do all three because yes more gimleaf yes. This is an ask meme that I will literally always be accepting prompts for (although if somebody sees this in the tag in like a month or so and wants to send one in, maybe include some context so that I know what that random number I just got in my inbox means? lmao). So, prompt taken from this; anyone can feel free to send other numbers in at any time. Literally.

#21....on a place of insecurity.

Gimli stared at his reflection in the round silver mirror, his hands paused even though his braids were still half-undone. "Do you ever wish that we had crossed the Sea sooner?" he asked.

Legolas blinked at him, cocking his head in that familiar birdlike tilt of confusion that Gimli knew so well.

"Sooner?" Legolas repeated. "How could we have come sooner?" A frown furrowed his smooth, beardless face; a temporary crinkling of skin that would never show the faintest wrinkle. "You mean before Aragorn died?"

"You're right," Gimli sighed. He tugged at his braids, their once-bright copper laced so heavily with strands of silver that he sometimes felt like he had just walked out of a snowfall. "We could not have, of course. But...do you ever wish..."

"Leaving sooner would not have spared us the pain of his death," Legolas said quietly. "It would only have meant that we would not have been there for him when it happened; only have meant that we would not have been there for Arwen or their children either. Knowing of his death only from stories brought by later travelers would not have spared us anything, I do not think; knowing of his death without having been there ourselves would, I think, have only made it hurt the worse, my dear."

"Yes," Gimli said, "yes, of course. I did not mean—"

He stopped. Legolas had walked up behind him and bent down to look over Gimli's shoulder into the mirror. It should have looked awkward, the sight of Legolas's long spine arced at such an angle, but elves were spindly, lithesome creatures. Wood-elves in particular seemed to be as supple and spritely as saplings, and Gimli had yet to witness Legolas contort himself into a position that strained his pliant bones.

"Gimli," Legolas said, "what is wrong?"

"Nothing," Gimli said. He lowered his eyes and his fingers both, twisting his remaining braids into place as quickly as he could without mussing the pattern of the plaits or dropping strands. He scowled, even though he knew that doing so would only deepen the wrinkles that already lined his eyes. "Nothing is wrong."

Long, smooth fingers pressed gently on his own calloused ones until they stilled. Gimli looked down at the overlap of those long digits across his own, the one set brown and spindly as twigs yet unblemished by time or strife; the other pale as underground mushrooms and gnarled by both time and heavy forge-work.

"Gimli," Legolas said. "Tell me."

Gimli turned his hand so that he could enfold those long brown fingers in his own and gave Legolas's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Nothing is wrong, my love," he said again. "I am only feeling melancholy this morning, it seems. Think no more upon it."

He raised the elf's ageless hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to those smooth knuckles, then released it so that he could continue with his braids.

Legolas did not rise. Instead he dropped lower to fold his arms across the back of Gimli's chair, his bright eyes studying the sight of the dwarf before him in the mirror. Gimli avoided his gaze, focusing instead on the intricate plaits that hung from his chin, but he could feel the weight of Legolas's eyes passing over his face, searching for the answers that Gimli would not give him.

He did not find them.

"Will you not tell me?" Legolas asked at last. His voice was soft, his eyes full of sorrow. "Please?"

Gimli sighed and let the braid in his hands droop loose and unfinished down his chest.

He looked up into the mirror again at last and met Legolas's searching, worried eyes there. He looked at that smooth, beardless, beloved face waiting there behind him; unchanging and unchanged from the day they had first met so long ago and far away in Rivendell.

His eyes flicked sideways to his own reflection, to the wrinkles that time had carved beneath his beard; to the strands of silver that wove through the bright copper braids that hung before him. He reached out and pressed his fingers to the mirror, to the sight of the lines around his eyes, and sighed.

"I would not be so old," Gimli said quietly, "if we had come sooner; that is all. I only wonder if you wish, sometimes, that we had. That is all."

Time did not pass in Aman the way it did in other places; or if it did, then it did not feel as though it did, and it carried no trace of decay with it. Gimli had not aged a day since they had first set foot upon these white shores—but he had aged two hundred and sixty-two years before that.

He was still hale and hearty, for dwarves—especially the dwarves of Durin's line—often lived many years longer than that, and rarely weakened before the very ending of their days came upon them. But he was no spritely youngster of sixty-two, either, moping because his father had deemed him too young to go along on a Quest; nor was he a mature youth of not quite one hundred and forty, boldly striding forward at last upon a Quest of his own, all bright brown eyes and ruddy copper beard.

Gimli was old, now, and he looked it. He could see it every morning when he looked in the mirror to do his braids, or every afternoon when he caught sight of his reflection in the cooling barrels at the forge or in some clear, still pool that held Aman's crystal waters. He could see it, and he knew Legolas could as well; how could he not, when he was surrounded by the contrast of all the smooth, beardless, ageless faces of his people?

"Are you tired?" Legolas asked, and his light voice was a dry croak. Shadows as thick as Mordor's fogs filled his eyes, and Gimli turned from the mirror with a cry and caught Legolas's hands with his own.

"No!" he cried. He knew that Legolas was not asking after Gimli's slumber, or weariness from working the forge; was not asking about anything as simple as a day's ordinary exhaustion. He was asking if Gimli was tired of life; if he was tired of eternity. If he was ready, at long last, to claim the gift of his own mortality.

"Legolas, no," Gimli said, squeezing those spindly fingers so tightly that had they been the frail twigs they seemed they would have snapped beneath the pressure of his grip—but elvish flesh was strong, so much stronger than it looked. So were dwarven spirits, and Gimli had no intention of ever growing weary of the world, not so long as Legolas was in it. "I promise," he assured his elf, raising first one hand and then the other to his lips. "Never, Legolas. I am here with you, and I always will be."

Legolas's smile trembled, but it was a smile. Gimli counted it as a victory, and pulled the elf up out of his crouch and into Gimli's lap. He had too much leg to fit on such a short chair, of course, but the two of them were used to that problem; it was no effort at all to fall into the long habits that had his ankles curling sideways under the chair, his elvish flexibility making easy work of the awkward position.

"Then what troubles you?" Legolas asked. He snaked his long arms around Gimli's shoulders and leaned his beardless cheek down to rest upon Gimli's head. "My love, please. Tell me."

"I am old, Legolas," Gimli said. He unwrapped one hand from the elf's slender waist to press his fingers to the cobweb of wrinkles beside his eyes. "You can see it plainly on my face. Old, as no one else in Aman ever will be."

"Bilbo is old," said Legolas.

Gimli rolled his eyes. "Yes, all right," he said. "And Sam, too. But aside from them, everyone else here is an elf—"

"Or a maia," Legolas interrupted. "Or one of the Valar. Or—"

"My point," Gimli cut him off loudly, "is that age is writ across my face in ways that elvish faces do not age. I am only sorry, my dear, that I can do nothing to erase those lines, these streaks of silver; only sorry that you cannot spend eternity beside a dwarf in his prime of life, but must instead contend with these wearisome wrinkles."

Legolas drew away far enough that he could gape down at Gimli. "Wearisome?" he repeated. "Sorry? Gimli!"

"I know, I know," Gimli soothed, "it is a little enough thing, I suppose, and I am not ungrateful; I am only sorry for your sake, my dear—"

"Sorry!" Legolas said again. "Gimli, you everlasting fool of a dwarf! Is this what you've been fretting over all this time?

"...Yes?"

"Gimli!" Legolas squawked. "Oh, my beloved idiot! I feared you were growing tired of forever, and were going to have to leave me! Instead you've just been pouting over how handsome you are?"

"Handsome!" Gimli exclaimed. "Legolas, enough. I am sorry beyond words that I made you worry, but that is no call to mock me—"

"I do not mock," Legolas said. His lilting voice for once was as firm as stones. "I adore every inch of you, Gimli. Yes, even the wrinkles; yes, even the silver in your beard!" He shook his head, scowling down at his dwarf. "Perhaps especially the silver in your beard, for it gleams like mithril in the moonlight, even as the ancient lights of lost Trees are said to still gleam in the locks of the Lady Galadriel, oh Lockbearer!"

Gimli sputtered, heat rising fast in his cheeks. He tried to push the elf away, but Legolas tightened his grip upon his shoulders and refused to be budged from Gimli's knees.

"And your wrinkles," he continued in a softer voice, "are the signs that our years together have etched upon your face, even as your clever hands carve beauty into simple metal and plain rocks. How could I help but love them, when they trace our story out upon your face for all to see?" Legolas leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the sparkle of crows-feet that framed first one eye and then the other, then traced the deep tracks that lines Gimli's mouth and nose beneath his beard. Finally he raised Gimli's hand and pressed a long kiss to those ruddy, wrinkled fingers.

"Legolas, I...I feel I've been a fool," Gimli murmured. He found himself once again unable to meet Legolas's eyes, this time because of the blush that darkened his cheeks with a blaze of hot mortification.

"You have been," Legolas agreed, "but fortunately I knew you for a fool long before I knew you for anything else, my love, and so I am not bothered overmuch."

A watery laugh spilled from Gimli's lips, and he could not help but smile. "And you are as irritating and irreverent as ever," he retorted.

"Of course I am," Legolas agreed, and hopped up off Gimli's lap and the low chair upon which he sat and grinned down at his dwarf with a twinkling smile. "Some things do not change with the passage of time—but even though my face does not show it, I have very much been changed by knowing you, my dear Gimli, and I would not trade a second of it in exchange for a single lifted wrinkle or silvered hair."

"Well," Gimli said, "I am glad to hear it, and sorry now that I did not voice my concerns sooner."

"So am I!" said Legolas. "But I cannot hold it against you when I did not voice mine either, although in my case it was because I feared to pressure you into extending your time in life beyond your own comfort for my sake alone."

Gimli stood and took his elf's hands in his and held them tight. "Forever is only barely enough time to spend at your side, Legolas," he said, "but as it is all the time the world will give us, I will take it; but I will accept not a second less than that, and would not see that time shortened for any reason even if it was only for your own comfort, and not my own. I can think of no greater purpose for one's life than to bring comfort to one whom I so love."

Legolas beamed down at him, his pale eyes bright with unshed tears. "Well!" he said. "That is all sorted, then!"

"Indeed it is," Gimli agreed. He knew that the smile spreading behind his beard was the sort of soft, misty-eyed grin that Peregrin Took had always labeled "absurdly sappy," but he could not help himself; he felt as though he was fairly brimming-over with love, and he could not contain himself from letting it show upon his face, erstwhile sappiness be damned.

"In that case," Legolas said, his damp gaze dancing suddenly with dry mischief, "let me get you out of that tunic and into our bed and I will find all your other wrinkles and properly express my love for them, too."

Gimli decided he could finish his braids later.

[kneesntoess]

I'm interested in like all of the TMA fics lol, but I'll ask about just this one: Martin-and-food. I'm also really curious about the hobbit au of doom???

I'll start by talking about Martin-and-Food!

Also see further down for Hobbit AU of Doom shenanigans!

content warning before we go any further for disordered eating!

Martin & Food is less a wip and more a collection of thoughts I have about Martin, his relationship to food, and how that is informed by poverty, food insecurity and being responsible for resource management when you have no control over those resources. Many of these thoughts are informed by my own experience with food, poverty and being white working class

I'm still hashing out a structure, but I have a few emotional beats or core ideas I know I want to explore:

anxiety over affording food, and whether he will have enough of it with a corresponding fear about "wasting" food

anxiety about social engagements that involve food, especially in situations where the social rules are less well definied - splitting a bill vs. paying for your own, sharing communal food e.g. in the break room, outings that may or may not involve food of varying expense levels - and compensating by avoiding those situations or by controlling them (because then he knows exactly how much he as spent and that he doesn't "owe" anyone anything in the future

shame around not having tried certain foods or flavour profiles, and a lack of experience with preparing or cooking food because it's hard to experiment when you know burning or not liking someone means going hungry

I have begun gathering evidence from canon that might go into these, though! At the moment I am thinking specifically about how he had enough food in his apartment for two weeks captivity, and his reaction to Jon's birthday party. But I still have notes to make on the Vibes from a few other episodes, especially Recollections!

As for the Hobbit AU of Doom!

I have, uh, approximately 5000 words of outline for this fic alone, and I really do mean outline. This whole thing is timetabled to span several decades if I ever manage to actually write it!

Essentially a fix it fic in which Thorin, Fili & Kili survive the Hobbit and go on to live in and rebuild Erebor and I play fast and loose with canon because I can do what I want. Endgame Thorin/Bilbo & Kili/Tauriel, with Legolas/Gimli if I ever get that far.

Bilbo initially intends to return to the Shire, pack up Bag End, and then join the first caravan leaving Eren Luid back to Erebor to be with Thorin his new family. Upon arriving home, however, he find a tiny orphaned Frodo desperately in need of a little kindness in the sprawling chaos of his very many cousins and decides to take him in, delaying his return to Erebor for several years. Many shenanigans ensue before Bilbo and his nephew finally make the journey to the mountains again.

This post is already incredibly long, so here, have a snippet! In which Bilbo meets a young Frodo for the first time

There was a child in Bilbo's usual spot.

Dark haired and very pale, and somewhat smaller than Bilbo had come to expect of Brandybuck faunts, curly head bent forward over the enormous book in his lap, wearing well made but obviously secondhand clothes. It was unusual to find so young a child unattended and alone - Bilbo was no judge of faunt ages, but this one couldn't have been even a tween - nor one so quiet.

"Hullo, lad," Bilbo said, in his best approximation of jovial non-threat.

The small head of curly hair shot up suddenly, revealing wide blue eyes and soft, round cheeks, lightly dusted with freckles.

"'ullo," the lad said, and began a sort of nervous, full body fidget, chewing on one thumb. "Who are you?"

Bilbo laughed, and found himself sitting down on the floor beside the lad, legs folded under him and hands in his lap. "I'm Bilbo Baggins, my lad."

"Bilbo!" The small boy’s face transformed for a moment into delighted disbelief, and the wiggling increased. "My Auntie __ has been telling stories about you."

"Has she now?" Bilbo said, deeply amused. He must have caused quite a scandal - and, bilbo privately thought, quite a lot of disappointment. He wondered what the old bag had had her eye on at Bag End.

"Uh huh. She says you're - " the lad frowned, tongue sticking out, as he worked his way through the word. "Disreputable!"

"Well!" Bilbo replied, feeling very pleased with himself.

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 13)

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

CHAPTER 12

WITCHER OF THE NIGHT MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Your existence in their world had reasons. A purpose that involves the contentment that Geralt never found in the world that he was in. The feelings you have for your witcher makes you feel things that you haven’t experienced yet, desires that make you feel sorts of things as it also was a cause of the Cicatrix that laid in between your chest. The question is, were you on the same page as Geralt is? or was it just a misunderstanding prior to that night?

Warnings: Soft and smiley Geralt! (*rolls on the ground*), Sexual Implications, a needy reader, an annoying bard, MODERN references, mention of Divergent, grumpy Geralt, a soft-touchy-feely reader. FLOOFY chapter! Insecure reader tho. 😭 Harry potter and Lord of the Rings references. HAHA!

Words: 8.5k (Well, Hello long ass chapter)

A/N: THERE’S STILL CHAPTER 13.1 BEFORE THE SMUT. AHE. Sorry for the delay. Happy mother’s day to all the mothers out there! Y’all are the best and real superheroes! If this chapter didn’t make you smile, then this means I am a failure for everyone! 😂💖

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

Disclaimer: PNG’s used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi. Characters, places and said monsters aren’t from moi as well. GIF’s INCLUDED ARE CREDITED TO THOSE WHO MADE THEM! I DO NOT OWN THEM!

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

KISSING GERALT HAS BEEN SUCH A DREAM. The kiss felt like you were in seventh heaven and it also kept your mind wide awake the whole night; even with Geralt by your side with his lulling monster stories and those gentle fingers raking your hair like how he always does.

The gesture even made you a little more giddy than ever and Geralt didn't seem to mind as you've kept yourself wide awake; watching him sleep and never keeping him out of sight.

Though, he'd eventually covered those coy eyes of yours because it was bothering him; coaxing you to stop staring and just have your beauty slumber because you needed all the energy for your training.

A training that you thought would be for Cirilla because they've always had their swordplay fights before the sun rises and sometimes in the middle of a beautiful morning; as you watch Geralt in discreet as he wields his sword like how the waves move in the ocean. Very satisfying to ogle and observe.

The way he handles a sword was perfectly smooth and bland like how your coffee tastes in the morning.

Which is why your face was scrunched in peculiarity when he was done with Cirilla's training; giving the smaller silver sword to you with that reticent expression on his face; his habitual tight-lips now relaxed as he eyed you back with that tender gaze he holds whenever you were there.

An image you weren't used to; but may seem to wish it would be there forever because of how soft he appeared for you to see, not his usual brooding and serious persona.

"This is a very nice first date," you sarcastically muttered; wanting to scoff and whine from how unusual it was to receive training from the witcher like you were some sort of Tris Prior in the world of Divergents.

After the kiss last night, you've expected him to give you flowers, gifts, kisses or maybe more of his attention. Howbeit, you'd remember that you weren't in your world and that he wasn't a typical man who'd woo women like that. Geralt was probably a man whom women has been trying to court just to have his attention based on how beautiful and captivating he was.

Were you his beloved now? A girlfriend? his lover? you actually had no idea and chose to stay silent. Never asking anything more as to not ruin his good mood as he woke up in the morning.

Geralt didn't specifically told you anything about being his beloved. The only thing you understood in his words last night was that you were important to him and that he also cared.

Perhaps, he doesn't roll that way. The witcher wasn't particularly that type of man.

Therefore, you left it at that although it was dithering your heart. You were contented whether how ill-defined your position was in his heart.

"Why am I doing this again, Geralt?"

The latter silently watched you fidget with the sword on your hands, your cheeks puffed from how strange you thought his favors may be. He couldn't help but give you a beam that showed his teeth, his emotions thoroughly in a bliss after the night he confessed; parts of his aggression lifting up his chest, "The bard knows how to fight with his dagger," he adhered strictly to the fact, keeping the sword safely on his side.

Those lips of yours jutted in an opposing pout; your eyes seeming to connect with his spellbinding ones while he continued to wheedle, his cat-eyes curving into a soft shape of a crescent and you were totally enamored. Your heart skipping a beat when he was never breaking his gaze away; giving your stomach the heebie-jeebies, "---Cirilla is finally learning the techniques of using a sword,"

Your mouth was now turned into a tight-lipped one, shaking your head from the idea he wanted as you scrunched your nose further, "And I am better watching you and Cirilla have your little sword play fight," pause. "---I'm not going to fight anyone,"

You've continuously shook your head, tutting at the brilliant idea he'd tried to think of. Though, Geralt was adamant for his preposition; seeming to think the idea won't get you stabbing him accidentally or better yet, yourself.

"We can't be certain that there wouldn't be," he proclaimed, utterly determined.

You huffed out a frustrated breath, face falling right in the middle of the meadow as Geralt stood before you. His comely stature shining against the morning light and you were sure you've been blinded, "Right. Bad people are chasing you still,"

A bashful look has been unintentionally given to the witcher, lighting up an amused crooked smile and hum from the latter as he stayed completely taciturn, admiring the shy woman that stood before him.

You've suddenly felt him shift, turning your focus back at the Herculean, white haired Legolas as he'd languidly took a step back, looking calm and composed as he firmly ordered. His smile falling, turning all ruminative.

"Hit me."

More complaints were sent for what he requested, finding the whole ordeal somehow lamented because all you ever held was a pen, paper or laptops that certainly doesn't deal with people shedding blood unless you stab a pen at them. Sure, you've dreamt of fighting in combat in fantasy series or movies; but in your imagination, you were skilled. The version of yourself that you had in your dreams had talent and the one you have today only had idiotical abilities to plot your own demise because of how foolish you were in their world.

"Can't I fight with Jaskier?"

Geralt cocked his head to the side; in utter amusement as a small smile carved his pretty, luscious lips that grabbed all your attention. The witcher immediately noticed and had a smug glint in his amber eyes as he talked, "If you wish to annoy people and woo the king then he is excellent at it," pause. "---You wouldn't learn how to use a real sword from the bard. Unless, using a lute as a form of weapon in the middle of a royal banquet is your choice of fighting then Jaskier would do a great job,"

Thus, from the moment Geralt has made his utterance, Jaskier somehow had the luckiest time on planning to feed Roach as he emerged from the doorway, ceasing himself from sending a teasing ridicule as his name has been called in vain; backstabbing him by finding entertainment from how he tried shielding himself from the incident back in the years.

"I've never received any compliments from you don't you, witcher?" he hollered back, enclosing his mouth with a hand as he called from afar; a bucket full of Roach's food on the other.

Jaskier seen Geralt shake his head, a surprising beam drawing his face as the witcher playfully wisecracked out loud, "You don't need them, Jaskier."

The harmless banter made Jaskier pucker his lips in surprise, never anticipating how he'd gradually changed from being the brooding, reserved witcher to the grinning, active man he was seeing as he was teaching a woman who had no inspiration on learning the techniques of sword fighting.

Geralt simply turned his head to see you awkwardly holding onto the base of Cirilla's sword; having a gawky, hunched stance and the witcher took heed of it but chose not to correct it yet. You were dubious of even holding a sword and also a lot more hesitant as you've tried to strike a blow at his face. Without effort, he'd simply dodged the attack with one hand using minimal strength. The swords instantaneously crashing against each other with a satisfying ring of metals colliding.

Unfortunately, the weapon flew out of your hands as he'd dodged your strike, shamefully falling on the ground with a soft thud. Geralt snapped his eyes at the sword that fell from your hands before feeling his eyes turn to you, "Midget." he calmly scolded, having at least a massive amount of patience for you, "---Take it easy." you'd heard him advice. Baritone timbre soft but still rough which stirred that familiar warmth pooling just below your stomach; heart beat stumping upon your chest because of how you were worried it would obscenely pool in between your thighs. Just the thought of Geralt's presence kindled with the fire raging your insides.

You've never had felt any such strong desire for a man other than the witcher himself and it was beginning to grow frightening because of how you wanted him so bad; the kiss you had probably triggering something inside of you that didn't know it existed.

Maybe, it was probably horny hours like how you had them back in your apartment. The problem here was that you finally had a man to do it with, but you weren't sure if he also desired for you the same way as you do.

What if he only wanted you for companionship? Perhaps, he'll somehow find you boring like how your dates went back in earth when the time comes?

You didn't notice Geralt has grabbed onto the sword that flew right out of your hands, sauntering towards where you were and his presence lingering a little too close for those kindling flames aggravating that desire you had when his voice vibrated from behind.

"Also, try harder."

Despite of how enormously tall and brawny he was, the witcher leaned down to grab onto your hand, his rough fingers caressing yours that was sparking up the flames as it felt so gentle. He placed the handle of the sword onto your palm, delicately dragging the other to hold onto the base. Those calloused palms of his enclosing yours in a warm embrace as his warmth from behind seemed to turn more quenchless as time goes by, a sudden hunger flooding your system as your body turned putty with just a simple touch.

You've felt your throat run dry, stance turning standoffish when he'd loomed behind you. Heavily aware of his presence. Your voice cracking and stuttering as you mindlessly thought out loud, trying to wash the vulgar thoughts away, "I--I--I am! It's just that you've given me a real sword for practice!"

Geralt reiterated; utterly droning, "It's lighter than mine," with a simple raise of his brow as he stood behind you, his face inches close and you could feel his stare completely immense, making you look away from how flushed your face have been, "Even so! It can hurt anyone! Can't I learn witchcraft instead? I’ll be the potato version of Hermione Granger! It’s impossible that your world has no Voldemort! Expecto Patronum! Avada Kedavra!"

The preposition was hurriedly rejected with just Geralt's smile turning upside down; replaced with a scowl that coaxed you to turn your head to see him shaking his head with his face approximately close to yours; those amber eyes trying to melt your heart as he still had that vivid, affectionate dewdrop clustering in those peepers that provoked a satisfied sigh out of your ajar mouth.

His pitch suddenly turned austere; mouth tight-lipped as he quoted, "You will not use any ounce of sorcery from my world," you've seen the side of his lip turn into a smirk as he haughtily added, "---Alas, you are also too clumsy and impulsive for it,"

Geralt grudgingly moved his face an inch away; not before seeing a sight of him taking glimpses of your ajar lips as you awaited to be kissed by the witcher himself; howbeit, he chose to tease and ignored the accented feelings he had been trying to hide since the first day.

The latter surprisingly gave a chortle, his chuckle sounding heavenly amongst the birds chirping in the background, "How dare you?!"

He gave your hands consolatory pats as it was already surrounding the base of the sword. Geralt straightened his back, his thumbs casually giving the back of your hand a soft caress before taking heed of your silent squealing from his seraphic touches, "Hold the sword with your dominant hand, midget." before he took a step back away and muttering a mocking repartee, "---Maybe a Hirikka will be a better combatant than you,"

You've watched him waltzed back to where he was as he stood in front of you with a grin on his face, "I shouldn't have accepted your apology last night." you deadpanned with your eyebrows furrowed from how riled up and entirely flustered you were feeling early in the morning.

The witcher tipped his head with his smug grin, "You didn't. I just knew you would because you never get to have your nap without receiving cuddles and chill from me,"

You've feigned a gasp, unclasping your hold around the sword as you placed your palms around your hip, giving him a sassy posture of how you were appalling by the truth that he suddenly was giving; thoroughly surprised by his sudden pesky, frolic attitude he seemed to vibe. He was learning from your modern references and it shocked you even more.

"It was cold last night!"

"The night is also dark," He ridiculed and mocked what you've said to him last night while he was asking for forgiveness. His teeth slipped against the cardinal pillows of his lips, giving you a gorgeous toothy grin that made your breath hitch as if his aesthetics radiated off the sun light, "---You needed my warmth, midget."

A playful glare was sent to the witcher; intentionally keeping up with his mockeries as you gave a chuff and found his mischief rather entertaining because he rarely acts the way he is right now, "Are you a furnace? No. You aren't, Geralt of Rivia. Don't act like raking those fingers of yours through my hair doesn't help you sleep at night---"

"But, I'm your furnace amidst the benumbing night."

You couldn't help but giggle from his innocuous pick up line, utterly finding it amusing and endearing when you've understood it way differently despite of how ingenuous he wanted it to sound.

Their era and how they communicate was certainly giving you a good ol' laugh.

"Are you calling yourself hot?"

Geralt couldn't help but outstare; gawking from the dazzling laugh you've mindlessly given him. He was oblivious of his beguiling beams he has been making you see and the gaze that bewitched the morose of his spirit, puzzling how a mere person could take away the misery that has been haunting him since the moment his mother has left him alone to become a witcher in their world and a lot more great affliction he'd somehow experienced.

Presumably, your existence in their world had reasons.

Hence, the witcher knew it involved his happiness.

"Now, keep your stance firm," he snapped out of his daydream, gently tapping the tip of his sword on your thigh which erupted a squeak and a tiny whine from you, "---I can't always be with you when you are attacked by anyone who wants my family dead,"

You tilted your head to the side, cheekily wiggling your eyebrows as you grinned up at him like a Cheshire cat as he shook his head from your playfulness, "Did you just lowkey tell me that you treat me as family?"

"Would you want it to be that way then?"

Another failed attempt of giving a successful, strong blow has been swung towards the latter, easily stepping one foot back as he blocked the smite with one hand. Though, you hadn't let the sword fly out of your hands this time which Geralt considered as slight improvement for being taught in the first day.

"Hmm. Again." he'd given an entranced hum, giving a tight lipped smile as he affirmed and tried to wriggle out more strength from you because it was pretty much a reluctant strike as well.

You've straightened your back, keeping your feet loosely away from each other as you sighed an exasperated one. The sword falling on your side as you wanted a truce. Feckless of the pout you were giving to the witcher who was too persistent in giving your body an ache from the training. Geralt raised a brow, seeming to enjoy your whining and allegations from the moment he'd given you a sword.

"Stop puckering your lips like that. I'm not giving you a buss when you're acting like a chit,"

A buss. It sounded pretty much familiar as it was used in those romance books you've read back in earth. His straightforwardness tickling your spine in a delicious way that got you flustered for the tenth time this day. You know your eyebrows rose up till your hairline from how he was assuming things that were actually the truth, "Did that mean a kiss?! I--I wasn't asking for a kiss though!"

"Then, acting adorable won't let you get away from this."

You've groaned out loud; fighting yourself off from stomping your foot out in utter vexation from how he'd always seem to knew what you were thinking. Were you that obvious?

"I hate you,"

Geralt took a stroll towards you, thoroughly leaning down to your height with a cross of his prodigious arms; the sword still in his fist and watching how he'd closely stared into your eyes as he fought off a smile, "The hate is quite indistinct and difficult to tell after you've been kissed last night,"

Your heart wanted to burst from the embarrassment, feeling your face turning into flames. Just add a little bit of oil and people could probably fry anything they wanted to as they use your face as a pan.

Reprehension would have escaped your lips if a hand hasn't clutched onto the side of your neck, his hot breath assaulting your face before you've felt his lips on yours in a hot second; never giving you time to process everything as he broke the buss with a sweet, tinge sound that seemed more soundly in your ears rather than swords colliding in a battle.

His hand behind your nape left in haste, straightening his back and shoulders; acting like he hadn't done anything wrong nor he continued to act like he didn't even give you a small, plain peck to the lips that gave a startle and somehow positioned you into a blissful, heart exploding condition.

"You don't dislike me, midget." Geralt's expressions were indescribable. His features stoic for five seconds before seeing his lips turning into a gloaty smirk as he spun in his heels, leaving you dumbstruck from the surprise.

"G-GERALT! That's not fair!" you stood rooted on the ground, keeping your lips together as you smacked it out loud like you couldn't believe he'd given you another kiss to ruin your ovaries and focus.

He strolled along the meadow, his emotions flying elsewhere as he was entirely finding your reactions hilarious. Geralt walked the path back to where he stood before, turning around in face-front to see your face all red and giving him the stink-eye, "Nothing is ever fair. Now, use all your strength to hit me with your sword."

You tightly grabbed onto your sword with both hands, listening to how he'd told you it should be held and also thoroughly remembering the basics that he told you prior; keeping your stance better than the one you held a while ago, watching how his face lit up as yours turned serious and challenging, "Oh, I will! You're a cocky witcher today and it's annoying!"

Jaskier have fed Roach back in the stable, he walked back to the doorway to see Cirilla leaning her back on the stone walls, arms crossed with a smile that tells how amused she was as she watched how you were trying to strike a successful blow at the witcher who found your lack of knowledge utterly astonishing and endearing; regardless of how he has been fond of having lovers which were strongly independent and knew how to stay alive in a battle.

You were a paradox to his life. Utterly questionable as to why you have even arrived.

"He's not teaching her how to fight," Cirilla admitted towards the bard who subtly nodded beside her, also watching the quote training unquote that you had with the white wolf. Yet, both of them could see how his way of teaching seemed to be less harsh than how they've been taught. Totally aware of how he was also buoyant rather than serious and brooding.

It was like a different Geralt that loom before them as he tutted and shook his head to cease your reckless attempts of trying to hit him with the sword; grabbing onto your fingers to cease you as he explained with a relaxed face he'd given while all you could do was glare and huff back.

Jaskier gave a small smile, eyes narrowed from how the sunshine hits his face and mindlessly tapped the handle of the bucket with his index finger, "The witcher is flirting with the rat, probably want some bonking,"

The lion cub of Cintra gave him a once over, "Some what, bard?"

"Forget what I said,"

Cirilla brushed him off as she went on with her lurking, Something you said ignited a grin out of the witcher as he quietly listened to your rants and rambles about how annoying he have been, "Also, this is the first time I'd seen Geralt smiling like that again. I hope she doesn't leave. I'll do everything for her not to leave,"

The bard gave a nod of understanding. Deeply thinking as to why Cirilla would do everything in her willpower for you not to leave; hence, seeing the smile that Geralt has given you was a simple answer as to why you needed more protecting and a lot more time to stay. Would it be selfish of them when you probably had a family back in your world?

Thus, Jaskier's gaze lingered on you and saw how you giggled back at the witcher who has said something that made him scowl. The mere sight of you strumming along the rakish onslaught of his heart strings from the week that Geralt wasn't around bothered him but he chose the better of it and ignored.

"But, isn't it strange?---" he momentarily ceased, snapping his gaze away from you as Cirilla gave him a nasty lour for whatever thoughts he wanted to say out loud, "---That your step-mother would be pretty much smaller than you?"

The child loudly groaned in response, turning her back away from him as she pulled the doors to go in, "You are honestly the most irritating person in the continent,"

The day has been pretty much a blur. After being trained by the witcher no matter how many failed attempts you tried; his patience utterly high for you to even comprehend that he had a lofty tolerance for your inability to successfully strike a sword.

Your arms were somehow sore, considering the amount of attempts that Geralt has been repeatedly telling you to just hit him with all your might, yet being active in the battlefield will never be your forte. He tried giving you hope, downright telling you that it was normal and everyone improves sooner or later as long as your training had consistency.

You've been a bitchy-pants after the training. All catty and stopping yourself from sending a t-bird for the bard who received a snide remark and decided to send irritating teases that you were just being sexually frustrated.

Simply to say, Jaskier knew you were having your horny hours. That time of the day or that day of the week.

How'd he know? you had no idea. It was probably only his guesses as to why you were acting bitchy towards everyone except Kolby and Cirilla. You were being bitchy towards the men of the house especially at Geralt who has given you body soreness.

If only it was a different type of ache, you would probably not be bitchy.

A heavy sigh left your lips as you sat your back along the walls of the hallway, the only place where you've found peace because walking in the first floor even got you vexed because Jaskier seem to find your irritation amusing and had been running his mouth about how it was fine to just give in to your fantasies especially that the witcher probably had wanted it as well since the first day.

You were contemplating whether or not to turn on your cellphone; remembering how it was only at seventy-five percent. You've stared on your phone that rested on your hands, spinning it around as you were trying to fight off the kept fervor that has been insatiable and a bother when Geralt has given you one touch.

The feelings and emotions have been skyrocketing, it was already there even just from the start of your morning. However, after going home from the Djinn troubles, it started doubling and began to grow bestial like a monster wanted to come out of your chest from how you badly needed the witcher.

It just wasn't normal.

Geralt was entirely aware of your vexation. Though, he was meters apart from you and was actually outside to take care of Roach. Inside his chest, he felt an ounce of disturbance with the help of your irritations and frustrations; the sensations coming back again and the witcher still had no idea why.

He knew where you were and decided to find you. Finding a midget hunched in the middle of the hallways with her brows tightly furrowed, a worried pout on her face and blown cheeks as you fidgeted with your phone.

Geralt fought the urge of smirking and just sauntered to where you were, his heart beat beating in blissful thumps that got him wondering how it was even possible in just the sight of you.

You've felt his presence looming before your stooping form, a stink eye was given to the witcher who crouched in front of you, his burning gaze solely on you as he cocked his head to the side, observing your face and the state you were in with a smile growing on his face.

"You're annoyed." he artlessly admitted, never risking to leave your sight.

You scoffed, shaking your head as you felt the burning desire grow even further, turning away to help your poor little heart from feeling more bothered than it ever intended to, "How'd you know, Legolas?"

The nasally mention of that nickname you had for him got Geralt frowning. His forehead creased to the extent that he seemed to be thinking rather too deeply as to who this Legolas was and why were you even calling him that.

"---and now you're the one annoyed,"

Geralt kept his lips in a tight firm line. Amber peepers shining in dissatisfaction.

You brushed off his noncommittal reaction; already used to his lethargic norms as you complained about his infuriating friend, "It's Jaskier! He's annoying me since this morning!"

He just continued to give you a listless look, giving a displeased hum as he wholeheartedly let you rant to him.

Then, you added, "---Just his breathing irks me!" which only a hum was the only word you've received again, "Hmm."

You've irritatingly grunted, giving him a glout as you also kvetched, "Stop the humming! You're annoying me as well! You've been annoying me too since this morning!"

Your cavils has stirred a defeated sigh from the latter. His sudden actions obviously had reasons as to why you were abruptly being trained with a weapon. If only he hadn't brought you with them in the marketplace and haven't run into Tybalt then gallants weren't supposed to be searching for you by fair means or foul.

"What did I do this time?" he lowly grumbled, utterly dead beat. A faint, crooked smile raising those lips of his. You've held onto your phone a little more tighter, feeble arms crossed in front of your chest as he simply gave you his attention that you somehow yearn a lot, "You and Jaskier can stay in one room together while I sleep in yours! Men are so annoying! Always have been!"

Geralt's features appeared to be of someone who was suddenly bothered at the understanding of your statement, his listening comprehension twisting whatever it is that you've said as he skeptically appalled, "You have been with other men?"

Your face twisted in a tight cringe, bewildered by his presumptions that sounded like he was telling that you had a lot of men back in the days or basically his words were telling you that he couldn't believe that you actually had a man before. You've given him at least ten seconds of you just giving him a displeased flicker of your eyes before the white haired witcher proceeded with his remarks.

"Also, are you threatening me in my own home? You're kicking me out of my own chambers?"

An innocent nod was given to Geralt. The witcher simply gave an enervated blink, hearing a serious growl buzzed out of his chest; scrutinizing for whatever your eyes held out to him. The intensified gaze of his peepers searing that says he needed your sincere answers.

"This...Legolas you have been calling me," pause. "--- Do I remind you of your previous lover?"

You waited for more additional questions or perhaps a moment where he could tell you that he was just joking around. However, the intimidating, gargantuan monster-slayer who was crouched before you; never said that he was just giving out any jocularity of his previous light-hearted demeanor as he was all brooding again.

He fervently stared you down, making you shift on the floor as you looked up into his eyes; mirth surrounding the windows to your soul when he didn't budge after you've given him an guileless beam, "Yeah. Pfft. Earth also has their own witcher slash elves---What? Oh my God, this is funny."

Geralt is all wordless and silent; awaiting for whatever explanations you could give him and you couldn't help but ask in a skeptical manner; bizarrely gasping for his seriousness.

"Wait, you're actually---stop giving me a scowl! I never had...one? He's a Lord of the Rings character and I swear to God, he is fictional---Not real! Though, he looks like you because the hair and such---but---" you've jumped from one thought to another, feeling the scrutiny under his gaze and obviously nervous that he appeared to look like he would grab his sword and look for the man to behead him. Though, it will never happen due that Legolas was entirely fictitious to even start.

You ceased yourself from trying to explain the background story of Legolas for Geralt. Your nerves getting the best of you whenever you were being interrogated. An exhale of breath escaped your lips as you took a good look at the grimacing witcher before witlessly reaching onto his face with your palms on either side of his chiseled face as you gave him your best doe-eyes, sweetly trying not to coo at how his brooding demeanor actually makes him look fetching nevertheless.

"Stop being mad at me," you buttered his silence up with a tender tone of yours and the way he scrunched his nose and appeared to be looking bizarre tells you that your sweet-talking was cringe-worthy because of how you probably never knew how to simmer a man's troubled day.

Or he was just not used to gentleness.

You've retracted your hands away from Geralt's face and tried your best in avoiding those questioning and bemused eyes of his as you abruptly stood on your feet, shamefully rubbing your nape as you had yourself wincing from the second hand embarrassment of treating Geralt like he was some soft baby, reminding yourself to never do it again, "I am embarrassing myself,"

At the time you've stood up, Geralt also has been on one's feet. He didn't mean to look at you weirdly as you've cupped his face with that tender gaze inside your eyes. When the moment your delicate fingers brushed his, he felt as if he was in utopia. The man wasn't just used to intimate touches especially your caresses that felt like Gossamer.

Geralt just wasn't used to people treating him like he was actually human instead of someone who deserved to be treated differently.

Only Renfri, Yennefer and you had this effect on him. Though, with yours seemed to be much stronger.

Your panicking state urged you to flee from his presence, but the witcher wasn't going to let you go that easily as he'd caught your wrist; gently pulling you as your back hit the wall. Both hands and fingers scooping your neck like a baby chicken he'd caught and decided to take care of as his his warm touch skimmed till his thumbs brushed against your jaw, carefully urging you to peer up into those amiable gazes he successfully tries to give.

"I'm not mad." he dearly reassured, his small smile bringing your heart into euphoria because he was much more beautiful this way; smiling as if the world hasn't condemned him with an ill-fate of being a witcher.

Your beams were difficult to fight off; immediately giving him a smile as he also did as well. Chiefly, only giving you the sight of his crinkled eyes. His thumbs tenderly caressing your jaw which coaxed you to calm down from being fidgety which was totally a good medicine because your nervous jitters actually ceased with just his gentle touches.

You've grabbed onto his hand, memorizing his soft features as it was ever been a rare sight. Never believing he was acting the way he right now towards you. Your fingers brushing against his hands like a feather tickling the witcher's sanity.

Before another utter cockblocker slash disturbance came trudging up the staircase and somehow found you both in an heartfelt position; with Geralt cradling your face like no other.

"Oh! Ughm, this is a rare sight." Jaskier ceased his steps, midway through the hall, the bard's growing grin seeming to give you jitters as his ridicule began, "---and the small rat has been sexually frustrated, Geralt!"

You just wanted to strangle him sometimes.

"Cot damn it, Jaskier! SHUT UP!" you exclaimed, totally flustered as Geralt dropped his hands to the side; looking between you and Jaskier in ponder; those eyes of his full of curiosity, "You're...?"

"I AM NOT FEELING SMUTTY!"

If only you could dig and cover yourself up from the embarrassment, you would.

"---Smutty."

"You get my point, Geralt! I know you do!"

Geralt had his forehead in a tight wrinkle, thoroughly thinking what you meant; though, he understood none because the word seem to be peculiar, "Midget."

Jaskier exhaled an exasperated breath, dramatically rolling his eyes as he waved you both off and curved right pass between the both of you, entering his chambers to grab onto some clothes because he wanted to bathe.

The bard pointed a finger as he walked off, his hips swaying as he does so and never looking back, "She needs some nightly penetrating! You're welcome, witcher!"

Geralt watched Jaskier leave, an amused pucker of his lips was the answer to your questions that he certainly understood everything now and cocked his head to the side, peering you down as he awaited for an explanation. Yet, all he saw was you covering your blushing face with a guilty, forced smile as you washed your face in frustration to give him your regretful eyes.

"Don't listen to him," you quoted and begged for him to just take the bait.

Nevertheless, you've seen him raise a hand; about to start talking about being one horny woman for him when you've stopped him midway and tried to shift the topic away, "Anyways, I forgive you, Geralt. Now, can I braid your hair?"

The witcher closed his ajar mouth, humming in wonder as he dropped his hand to the side; narrowing his gaze at you, "I wasn't asking for any of your forgiveness."

You've blinked back at him, jutting your lips together as you looked away, tone teasing and slightly threatening, "You sure that's your final answer? No regrets?"

Geralt roughly puffed out a breath, muttering profanities beneath his chest, "Fuck." and another grunt because he'd remember how he still wasn't forgiven by yelling at you for last night, "---Fine. Do I have a choice?"

Your smile turned into a knavish grin, wanting him to regret why he even agreed to whatever plans you have for him as you bluntly answered.

"No."

The one you had in mind, planning for a simple diversion for Geralt to erase the horrid truth that Jaskier has told out loud for him to hear was actually another rabbit hole that had caught your feet, catching you going far down the pit like you have been scammed. Clearly, because Geralt's unwitting deep groans and hums has made you hot and bothered every time you've tried combing his hair along his snowy locks.

You were wincing every time he has his nose flaring whenever your fingers thread along his hair, the knots giving his head a rough yank from how you were trying to untangle those knots.

Geralt sat on the floor; his arms on either side of the bed. With you who sat on the bed and your legs criss-cross behind his impressive, thewy back; tempted to just give him a big hug because he seemed so comforting but chose not to based on how grouchy he became once you've combed his hair with your fingers.

You didn't even know if he was irritated or somehow liking the whole situation because he was deeply growling, groaning and eventually having to hear a slip of guttural, restrained whimpers that caught your ears. Enlivening that cravings and curiosity you had for some human touch.

"Midget..." he grumbled another complain and lowly warned, hearing the baritone growl he'd ought for you to hear which made you ignore his protests as you had your own protestations as well, "Stop complaining. Also, don't you own a comb? Your hair---It's---Oh! I'm sorry! Can you please stop growling and moaning at the same time!"

His head was minimally pulled back because of your reckless combing. Your nose scrunched even more as you'd received another menacing hum that tells he was close to hitting your face with a pillow because of how rough you were taking care of his hair. It's not that you weren't rough, but the locks in his hair was frustrating you to the highest.

"Hmm."

You subtly leaned down, sneaking your head to the side of his face to see his expressions void of emotions. The typical Geralt whom you've met as he felt your presence nearer, he'd turned his head to give you a lackadaisical look in his eyes that tells that you were stressing him out.

Your eyes twinkled apologetically as you had no problem in receiving a glare from the fussed out witcher. "Well, that sounds like a displeased hum," you stated as a matter of fact, shrugging your shoulders before straightening your spine and grabbing onto his Ivory roots again, "---and a different kind as well,"

He sighed in defeated, letting you handle his hair in spite as he simply closed his eyes. There was no more backing out as he was now sat in front of you, hair all untied as you've threatened to cut his hair with a scissor you've managed to have that was sat beside you.

"Bad kitty! You're liking this, aren't you? You like your hair being pulled!"

No answer was received and you left it at that. Thinking that maybe he wanted silence as you went on with brushing his hair with your fingers. Now, all gentle as the tangles were already free from the knots. It was certainly improvement; in Geralt's side because he stopped complaining after you scolded him so and quietly waited for you to finish; showing like he trusted you with his hair or whatever.

With a gentle tuck of his hair behind his ears, the witcher was all putty on your hands. Hearing a low rumble that resonated off him in pleasure and satisfaction because of how your touch was sending torment to the cravings he had for you.

Hence, his patience and respect he had for not throwing you over the bed and just relishing in with those insatiable desires he had for you needed and deserved an applause because of his high-capacity to resist the mania.

His appetite was surely in a famished mayhem as he breathed in slow and deep, your gentle touches that raked through his roots and his cravings growing more and more uncontrollable with each passing day and night.

Maybe, the scar you had on your chest had effects. Lewd effects for the both of you.

After minutes of comfortable---well, aching moments for Geralt; you've heard him mutter through gritted teeth in the midst of his slow breathing, "I'm not a cat."

You were already at the ends of his Ivory hair, simply braiding them in perfection as you objected, "But, you are! My grumpy kitty!"

There was no response again and you focused on braiding his marvelous hair and let the silence flow. You were actually just hearing him breath as it also calmed your nerves; a bewildering occurrence on how one's breathing could simply put you in peace.

You've grabbed onto his black ponytail which seemed to be owned by Cirilla and tightly tied onto the ends. Small hairs that seemed to not be possible in tying them down were imperfectly out of its nest; though, the ruggish effect it gave was actually making it look perfect for him.

"There! Done!" you mirthfully exclaimed, giving out a tiny tee-hee before you recklessly surrounded your arms around his musclebound shoulders. The irresistible urges just telling you to cease from being shy even just for today and be more of your unshackled self; stepping out of your timid borders every once in a while. It surprised the witcher with your touchy-feely attitude as his body went stiff when you've embraced him from behind, "See? I told you! You'll still look beautiful with your hair braided! Now, payment time, mister!"

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, clicking his tongue as he tried to find any words to say from your hasty, sweet gestures while he was not one who is used to receiving such care. Geralt had no words to say, his mind going in a haywire as he suddenly saw your palms in front of his face, begging like a peasant with your face nuzzled to his side as he weirdly stared at your palm.

"You want coins?" he skeptically questioned, your warmth and scent crashing his ability to think straight. You've dropped your arm around his shoulders, your actions seeming to surprise you as well but you paid no heed and just wanted him closer; his warmth insatiable as you hugged Geralt tighter. Your warm touches giving his body to adjust and be used to it as you felt him slowly relaxing against your hold.

You peeked from the side of his face, giving him a twinkle of those vindicated eyes as he languidly turned his head to see you giving such a naive look that he couldn't help but be fond of everyday. If it would take his hair to be braided for you to sweetly look at him like how you do right now; he would take the risk on letting his hair get yanked, "I don't know. Whatever payment you have in mind---I would love it,"

Faces were inches apart. You've seen the way his eyes glow in sudden mischief. His risquè suggestion making your heart warm in a way that got your ravenousness fueled as your face felt the blush and sudden excitement, "The one I have in mind is quite unseemly for your chastity,"

You gave a giggle, always loving how he'd intensely stare into your eyes like you've given light to his darkness; that type of glow inside his eyes that got your insides churning whenever he does, "Aren't you playful and naughty today, Geralt?!"

Geralt gave a tight-lipped smile; knowing you wouldn't accept his ravenous suggestion because of particular things he knew about. The witcher knew he wasn't wrong, he can never be wrong by what he was sensing.

However, a rare smirk was promptly shown, the ingenuous flicker inside your eyes changing in just a snap of one's fingers as it turned suggestive and playful, "What if I actually want that?"

It was what your heart wants and what those voices inside your head has been whispering. The mere idea of Geralt defiling your chastity that you have been treasuring because no other men deserved was utterly thrilling and worth it.

Not because of the thought that he was striking, but he was the only man you've wholeheartedly trusted and probably have given your heart like he was a king no matter how unsure of what you were in his life.

Closer and closer, you went in for the kill. Just his golden peepers alone was enough to pull you into a hypnotizing trance as you closed the space between you both, landing your lips to his in a soft, birdsweet peck that got you insides melting and the desire rapidly coming back in scorching flames, "I thought you wanted to indulge my curiosity all night long?"

Your words were temptingly drawled slower as your warm breath hit those ajar lips of his, an impenetrable haze in his eyes that suddenly brought uncertainty to what Geralt actually meant the last time you had the bathroom moment, your sudden confidence kind of wavering but still you've wanted to see how he was fond of you the way you also had your affections for him, "When I told you I was curious, it’s true, Geralt."

You've brushed your lips together and felt the witcher sigh before you had given one last honeyed kiss to his lips in which Geralt had puckered back, raising your hopes that he was solicitous about you.

'More,' his consciousness and emotions echoed, kissing you back with the same tenderness you held for him. He seemed like he was about to deepen the kiss; breathing through his luscious lips before you've felt the pillowy vermillion brush against yours as he abruptly ceased, hearing him lowly growl as he kept the tip of his nose, touching yours in an eskimo kiss before slowly pulling away to your disappointment.

The hesitation of wanting to deepen the kiss shot a sting to your heart; your overthinking self reading his actions that you've misunderstood his feelings that it was downright doting because you were head over heels for him after quite sometime.

But, hearing his next words immediately brought a weight down your chest, feeling the ineptness, dismay and shame for even suggesting lechorous behaviors that made you feel shameful because you think that it was rejected; thinking he rejected you.

He bedded tons of women. So, what makes you different?

You probably just weren't worth it.

"You don't mean that," Geralt lowly grumbled, his robust shoulders moving from how deeply he was breathing; ceasing himself from doing anything more further as the witcher continued to dispassionately utter, "---I don't deserve it,"

You hardly ignored the shame trying to strangle you into feeling such tightness around your throat as you unlatched your arms around his shoulders, skeptically eyeing the witcher who avoided your eyes, "What do you mean you don't deserve it, Geralt? You do,"

Were you desperate? Was the irresistible sensations making you act this way? Maybe. Howbeit, you would never regret every little thing you do for Geralt because it was what your heart has been telling you to do and not just your impulsive decisions.

Yet, the more he'd talk; it felt like as if the only thing you would regret was asking him what he meant.

Geralt heavily swallowed, jaw tightening as he apathetically muttered, "I'm guessing it's the Djinn's work that is talking,"

His response to your question ignited such ferocity inside your heart, shooting straight to your mouth as you couldn't believe what you were hearing. Did you misunderstood everything he has said when you were important to him? Deeply thinking that him and you were actually in the same page when his gestures and words right now seem to be the opposite?

"Are you saying that what I feel about you isn't true?" you questioned in disbelief. The scoff automatically being done as you've seen the tight scowl that Geralt has managed to put up again, "---That it's all...magic? The thing happening between us?"

You've tightly bit the insides of your cheeks, watching him stay silent and cease from opening up to you as he went on in avoiding your gaze and looking like he was the one who'd been rejected when it was you.

Thus, a continuation of your vulnerability went on despite of his stillness, your honesty probably will rue once it was said and done, "---before the Djinn even happened, you've been clouding my mind since then," a breathless pause. "---Since the first day I've been here, it felt like I was bound to fall for you, Probably, because the reason why I'm here is because...you are also here,"

Your candor has gotten the best of you and when Geralt was about to open his mouth for whatever that he wanted to say, your anxiety has managed to take over as you stood up from the bed in haste, feeling your palms tickle in humility from how everything that has been planned went down the hill because you misunderstood everything.

"Midget---"

You tightly swallowed the tightness stuck in your throat, finally feeling his gaze on you but you chose to look away; eyes now downcast as your toes fidgeted inside your boots, voice cracking when the apprehension was starting to take a toll as it was harshly plucking with your heart strings, "It's fine. We're just probably not on the same page yet and I understand why. Who would want me even?"

Geralt has been ruffled by your sudden assumptions, yet he chose to stay silent and be upset by whatever lies he'd been hearing; only having the actions to grit his teeth together as you restlessly tried your best to steer clear of your own dismayed feelings.

You shuffled on your feet, briskly walking towards the door before giving him a faltering gaze of yours as you awkwardly pointed at his perfectly braided hair while you stammered and tried to get a hold of yourself from the mortifying, stinging shame, "It's probably just...the genie effects doing these effects on me---I'll go apologize to Jaskier or something---Don't take that off, okay?!"

Hence, Geralt could only watch you leave as it was obvious that he'd upset you by his complicated behavior. Thus, leaving his heart stinging as well; feeling the same way as you.

Y’ALL ARE PROLLY CURSING ME FOR MAKING AN ADDITIONAL CHAPTER 13.1 AHONHONHONHON XD (Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you, buddy! Please do check your settings, bb! Thank you!)

Taglist: @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @vania-marie @spookypeachx​ @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernatural @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer​​ @marvelousell​​ @kingniazx​​ @angelias134​​ @tapismyforte​​ @chook007​​ @covid-donotenter​​ @winter-moons​ @cheesecakeisapie​​ @silverkitten547​​​ @angelofthorr​ @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum​​ @stuckupstucky​​

[meteor752]

The Lotr cast in my universe/I do what I want here’s some headcanons

Aragorn

Mom

The ultimate mom

Likes swords more than people

Likes horses more than swords

If you can beat him in a duel then he’s attracted to you

Marries Legolas

Doesn’t fully understand all this human stuff

An elf to the core

Sometimes just eats rocks

Has never heard of a bath ever

Loves hugs

What is sleep?

Legolas

Drama queen to the max

Kind of a slut

Ultimate big brother

Lightweight in elven standards

Priorities his hair over his life

Probs eats dirt

Do it for the aesthetic™

A diva

What are these feelings??

Marries Aragorn

Likes to show off his husband

Gimli

Smol

Even in dwarves standards he’s smol

Full of rage

Will fight everyone

Especially that fancy elf

Accidentally became BFF with that fancy elf

Loves food more than anything

Is really a softy

Wants loooooove

Boromir

Bisexual bitch

What am I doing here

Talks about his brother non stop

Was kinda in love with Aragorn

Dad

The ultimate dad

Is always concerned for the hobbits

Dad jokes to the max

What is going on

Is always scared

Would do anything to protect his people

Name puns

Is just done with everything

Sass queen

Frodo

Someone come pick me up I’m scared

Gay af

Wide eyed little bean

Kinda ugly in hobbit standards

It was considered odd that Sam, aka a total hottie when it comes to hobbits, fell for him

Really good writer

Really good story teller

So much trauma tucked into one small boi

Anxiety

Really loves to dance

Sam

So soft

Too soft for his own good

Cries when he sees something pretty

Way too loyal for his own good

Half of the shire is in love with him

He’s really devoted to his Frodo though

Never mess with a shire gardener

Would die for every member of the fellowship

Kinda clueless but he means well

Merry

Chaotic child #1

Smarter than he looks

Is actually one of the smartest people in the shire

Really bad at riddles and stuff though

Doesn’t really understand jokes either

Transgender

Oblivious af

Has no idea his best friend as been in love with him for years

Guys what’s happening

Barely knows why the fellowship was formed in the first place, he just followed along

Always has hair in his face

Thinks hair clips are the best invention in the world

Pippin

Chaotic child #2

His mind is just constant elevator music

In love with Merry

Is really obvious about that fact as well

Crushes on everyone though

And with everyone I mean everyone

Emotional bby

Would probs jump off a cliff if someone told him to

Is always cold

He’s baby

Faramir

Someone give him a hug please

The second most traumatized person on this list

Has a real problem coming out of his shell

Wants to become a healer

Is an apprentice under Sigrid

Is constantly given affection by his brother

Has a fear of fire

Loves to have his hair stroked

Éomer is more than happy to do that

Please hug him I beg you

Éowyn

Will fight you

Will fight everyone

Female rights activists

Bff with Tilda

In love with Arwen

Has a Sword fight with Aragorn every time they meet in an attempt to finally beat him

Cut her hair short because it was annoying

Butch af

Doesn’t mind dresses though

Total lightweight

Éomer

Gay

So very gay

A real flirt too

A bit of a dick

Is doing his best to be better

Loves his horse more than anyone

Except Faramir

But his horse is a close second

Tries his best to calm his sister down

But he’s also kind of proud of her

Stands by her side in her fight for equality

Is really guilty over his cousin’s and uncle’s deaths

Has a bit of a drinking problem

Arwen

The purest being in all of Middle Earth

Loves her siblings

Despite that one is adopted

She doesn’t care

She loves him

A really soft singing voice

Loves her horse

And her cat

She has a cat

It’s a white fluffy one named Brithil

Is actually really fucking strong

And stubborn

Loves her butch gf

Sigrid

Is always either tired, angry, or done

Sometimes it’s all three when she’s around Tilda

Has Vitiligo

One of the best healers in middle earth

Loves dwarves culture

Dyed her hair blue for a while, just because

“I can break every bone in your body while naming them” is basically her life quote

Hates elves

Has had crushes on multiple elves

Loves stories and fairytales

Misses her mom a lot

Is a rather good musician

Never sleeps ever

Would kill for a pastry

Bain

A Sweetheart!!

Lost his ability to see in the Battle Of The Five Armies

Has a problem when it comes to pets

He adopts too many

Loves to sleep

Just tries to calm his sisters’ constant arguing down

Fell in love with two elves

Had a half elf child named Brand who became the lord of Dale after Sigrid died

Captain of the Dale guard

Loves to swim

Is honestly just the sweetest boy

Tilda

A bitch

Just a straight up bitch

Loves elves culture

Will never wear anything that isn’t green

Slutty af

Loves fire

Has an as bitchy elk as pet

Bff with Èowyn

Has no idea what to do with her life

Climbs everything

Is smol

Wants to be tol

Is not allowed to meet Merry and Pippin, because Middle Earth would be doomed

Has been trying to get Aragorn and Legolas together since she was fifteen

Can’t say no to dares because she ain’t no pussy

Never met her mom, and hates the very thought of her

Is really insecure and depressed, someone help

[theseerasures]

Frozen 2 Reactions, Pass #2

went to see the movie again yesterday, which helped solidify a few more thoughts percolating in the back of my head. i don’t think this one will be QUITE as long as the first, but everything’s going under a cut anyway because i’ve met me

tbh most of this is just me dunking on Elsa

one of the things that i think both helped AND hindered the movie is that they really did make an effort to make the sequel its own separate story from the original--hence the timeskip, the retcons, and so forth. on the positive end of things there’s obviously a much lower barrier of entry for the like...three people who never watched the first movie, and the characters get to feel more grown up while remaining (thanks no doubt to the writing team remaining much the same) consistent enough that the changes to their personalities still make sense. it never feels like it’s retreading old ground, and if fans want to connect the new ideas and themes to the older material (and i count myself among those, what with my first fic in almost four years being about exactly that), there are plenty of kernels with which to do so.

on the other hand: some of the new plot stuff really just DOESN’T work with what’s already been established. chief among those is the idea that ~~~the story of the enchanted forest with requisite creepy lullaby~~~ is a well remembered bedtime story for BOTH Anna and Elsa?? like what does this imply about their childhood? that their parents told them this same bedtime story over and over again, but separately in their own respective rooms? that Elsa got charming bedtime stories about magic-based conflict and war???

(”yeah papa!!! please tell me again about how magic can not only kill people but also SUNDER AN ENTIRE LAND FROM REALITY, that story’s my favorite!!! looking forward to some really spirited nightmares tonight!”)

or are we supposed to assume this is like. the thing bad Batman writers try to do where everything poignant that has ever happened to Bruce happened the night his parents were murdered? that Elsa and Anna remember the story only because it was the night of the Accident (tm)? because that’s...also stupid, i gotta say.

i love that Elsa’s verse in this song start with “the winds are restless” bc it’s exactly the way i imagine her starting conversations with her hapless subjects. “good morning, Your Majesty! how goes the kingdom?” “the winds are restless” “...” “...” “...yes. that was...something i noticed as well”

Local Sisters Make Every Time They See Each Other in Town a God Damn Event

ever since @professorspork pointed out how stupid the “and i promise you the flag of Arendelle will always fly” line is in Some Things Never Change i haven’t been able to stop laughing about it. it’s just such a BLATANT telegraph: “whooo!!! yes! Arendelle!!! we all love that place and want to save it, and you can tell because the song said so!”

the Friends shot of them all walking back to the castle and Anna has kicked her heels off is great though i love it

also love the multitude of shots where it’s Elsa and someone else and we get a peek at her silent reactions to whatever the other person is saying. not since Legolas have we been blessed with so many memeable dumb faces

“ah yes, Mama’s words! cuddle close, scootch in! you remember her saying that all the time right Elsa?? after all it’s not like you have any decade-long baggage about not being able to be near anyone, most especially family members, because you were deathly afraid that you’d instantly murder them”

more thoughts on why Into the Unknown stands out so vividly in my mind: the first movie’s songs by and large did a VERY good job of moving plot around while still exploring character emotion. Do You Want to Build a Snowman moves us through ten YEARS of story, while still leaving space for long, unsung moments where we just get to process what’s going on between the sisters as they grow up. For the First Time in Forever catches us up with the sisters, gets the gates open, and has Anna meet Hans at the end, a pivotal moment for both her and the plot. Love Is an Open Door has them get engaged and sets up the rest of the story. Let It Go is Elsa’s big character shift and sets up the goal for the other characters: the ice palace is where they all need to go to bring back summer. the FtFTiF reprise begins the endgame. the other songs are all more fluff pieces that JUST serve to introduce characters, which is why they’re...not as good, and most people don’t really care about them, but we can accept that they’re there because the strength of the other material.

with Frozen 2...Into the Unknown is pretty much the ONLY song that fits into the first category: Elsa works through her conflicted feelings about wanting to explore the unknown, AND wakes up the spirits (sidebar: her pure joy at using her powers to communicate with the spirits is SO GOOD, guys. it gets me every time). the other ones just kind of transporting their singers into the Emotional Expression Dimension for them to do their thing. sometimes the songs transport them to the next plot point while they’re singing, but nothing really happens DURING them. i can give Some Things Never Change a pass on this because it’s supposed to be about stasis (and because i’ve bitched about it enough on other fronts), but much as i love Lost in the Woods and Next Right Thing for their character exploration they’re really just music videos to get us to the next scene. Next Right Thing is particularly egregious about locking the plot in the boot--the ENTIRE sequence is just Anna climbing or slumping against random rocks until the song ends and she can actually move the story along. one could make an argument that Show Yourself does get stuff done, but it’s still mostly Elsa running around in a cave for three entire minutes before we get to that point

i don’t think Get This Right is perfect but it DOES pull off the multitasking well, and it would have not only resolved the torturously stretched engagement subplot early on but creates a nice thematic echo to Love Is an Open Door: she really knows Kristoff, she really loves him, and she proposes. it’s her choice.

Kristoff’s line about question of how/question of whether works great for highlighting his continued insecurities, but again: either we’re supposed to think he’s wrong and Anna has ALSO been thinking in terms of how and she’s just been too busy in sister-drama-land, and this whole plot should have been resolved early, or we’re supposed to think that Anna really ISN’T on the same page, in which case they...probably should have a serious conversation about where they see their relationship going and not just get engaged at the end because Elsa made a new dress

as soon as an HD version comes out i demand a gifset juxtaposing Anna slumped against a rock with Anna slumped against Elsa’s door at the end of Do You Want to Build a Snowman, because this whole sequence is where the distance between sequel and original really WORKED. Anna is singing about how alone she feels, how she’s never felt such darkness before, when we know that that’s...not true. she's felt pretty close before--not long ago that was her whole LIFE. it’s natural for her to feel this way, because being knocked off your happiness always hurts more than never having it in the first place, but we the audience get to have faith in her, because we remember. eventually she does too, and now she knows exactly how resilient she can be, exactly how strong she’s ALWAYS been.

the animated faces are SO GOOD. we see Anna flicker through seventeen feelings at once when Kristoff rescues her from the dam: delayed fear, relief, and--this is the crucial one for me--horror that she survived, because that means she’s going to have to live with the fact that Elsa didn’t.

Elsa riding into the sunset of her sapphic life is great obviously but every time i see it i worry that the movie is going to end with the same face smear effect as the Prisoner of Azkaban movie

[make-me-imagine]

Heyy!! Could I please request a Top Gun: Maverick and LOTR ship, Headcanon for both?

So, just a bit about me: I'm 19, and a student in uni. I'm actually pretty introverted, very non-confrontational, but I'll definitely open up if I feel close to someone. I love being by myself and living in my thoughts. There are definitely moments where I go off, and can't shut up because I'm in an especially good mood, but honestly, I'm chill most of the time. Movies are my LIFE. Friday nights are made for my fav flicks and an icy can of coke <3 I'm not really looking for anything particular in a partner. Of course every relationship should be founded on faithfulness, love, and loyalty, but apart from that, if it clicks, it clicks! I'm too insecure to tell someone I love them, so my love language is def acts of service, but I like to hear it?

Thanks so much, bestie!! I can't wait to see what you have in store!! 💖💖💖

For Others: Ships are now CLOSED

Thank you so much! I appreciate it :)

I hope you like them!

TG:M

I ship you with Bob!

Bob is the kindest person you will meet, and will make you feel loved in any way possible.

Runner Up: Rooster

Headcanons:

You and Bob met each other your first year of college. He was attending the air force academy, but you lived near each other and ended up seeing each other a lot.

He always noticed you, and wanted to talk to you but was too shy. One day when you happened to run into each other on a walk, you started talking and pretty much never stopped.

There was obvious attraction between the two of you, so though you started out as friends, it was not long before you started dating.

You supported Bob 100% when he was attending Top Gun. And though you always worried for his safety when he was in the sky, you trusted him and knew he was great at what he did.

Anytime he was shipped off somewhere, he would write you long detailed letters. And whenever he returned home, he would spent as much time with you as he could. Being away from you was his least favorite part of his job.

You two have movie-nights, ordering your favorite food, sitting cuddled up together util you end up falling asleep half-way through the third or forth movie.

He is very good at understanding your silent ways of showing him you love him. When you fold his laundry for him, tidy up his work space, get his clothes cleaned, etc, he knows all of these have underlying 'I love you's'.

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

Lotr:

I ship you with Faramir!

Faramir is a caring and kind spirit, and loves deeply. He does not need words to tell him this, all he needs is you by his side.

Runner Up: Legolas

Headcanons:

You and Faramir grew up together. You were close friends for years, always there for him, to comfort him, laugh with him, and console him, etc. He was always there for you too.

When you were both teenagers, that was when he really figured out that your friendship was evolving into more, and he was more than happy and ready for it.

Faramir will happily and adoringly listen to you talk for hours about anything. He loves the way your eyes light up with you are excited about something, and he would not stop you for the world.

He writes you notes and letters reminding you how much he loves you and how often he thinks about you when he is not there.

He is grateful for everything you do for him, knowing it all contains every ounce of love you have for him.

Faramir is one of the most loyal people you could ever meet, and he would never disapoint you.

[wei--wuxian]

questionssss

tagged by @feanoriansappreciation 

1) How do you think Hobbits were created?

I have no personal headcanon but I’ve seen a few fun things on tumblr namely the elf/dwarf semi-crack idea or the Yavanna thing of course

2) Favorite Age?

First. So goddamn tragic and dramatic...

3) Thingol or Eol?

Yikes. Yikessssssss. Y i k e s. Mm. Ew.

I’m going to say Thingol, simply because I cannot make a decision right now but I know the discord has made me think a lot worse of Thingol in recent weeks (eyes emoji), so surely prior to this I would have chosen him. 

4) Do you think that the Valar could understand the Eldar well? Or are they unable to coprehend the way the Elves love and think?

Ooooooh boy did you ask this on purpose because I was meta-ing about this yesterday

Well. Credit where it’s due, first: @dalandel discussed a lot of this with me, and most of it originates with her (love you). 

I think that the Valar did not understand the Eldar at all, and that was why they made so many mistakes and mishandled so many situations. Their minds work in a totally different way, otherworldly and detached and without a true understanding of what love means to the Eldar -- they love in their own way, of course, but just as the Eldar themselves are more chaotic and independent than the Valar, so too is their love more vivid, more physical, more untameable... This is also my headcanon for what LaCE is in-universe; it’s how the Valar think the Eldar do/should behave, and in Valinor was almost imposed upon them as a set of social customs -- also tying in with my interpretation of Fëanor being misunderstood by the Valar and standing against their too-strict overseeing of Eldarin culture even before all the drama with the Silmarils. (see also: Fëanor organises Tirion Pride)

5) Would you take the Ring of Power for yourself if you found it or if it was given to you?

I know we’d all like to say no. But come on. The whole point of the Ring is that you can’t say no.

6) Would you have gone with Finrod on the quest with Beren?

That’s a hard question! I think, on balance, I quite probably would have. I’ve always been somewhat idealistic and adventurous -- but what it really depends upon is how I would have viewed the politics of Nargothrond while being caught directly in the middle of them. Who would I have sympathised with? Would I have been loyal to Finrod, or seduced by the Fëanorian uprising? Which side would I have seen as the “right” one? I don’t think I can actually answer that.

7) How do you interpret the relationship between Fëanor and his half-siblings?

:eyes emoji:

I kid, I kid. or do I

In all seriousness, I think that Fëanor spent a lot of the time after his siblings were born feeling very insecure under all the projected anger and bitterness. I believe deep down he felt like something was wrong with him; he certainly blamed himself at least in part for his mother’s death, and here suddenly are two new children (especially Fingolfin) taking his place in his father’s heart, with their mother there for them as well, and suddenly he feels like an outsider in his own family... The anger between himself and Fingolfin certainly originated there in my opinion. But I do believe their relationships had positive aspects too. And I would write more because I have plenty more thoughts on this, but my entire family has descended on my house and it’s actually hell

8) Which part of the Hobbit you liked the most?

I can’t come up with a serious answer so: the part where Bilbo gets hit in the head and passes out for the entire goddamn battle because it’s honestly such a mood

9) What do you think about the Hobbit movies?

Oh boy

As movies, as cinematic experiences, as mesmerising, spellbinding dragon voices and helicopter landscape shots and 3D footage and dizzying widescreen high-frame-rate... loved them.

As adaptations of the book they can die in the pits of Angband

10) Dwarves or Hobbits?

Hobbits

11) Share a headcanon about Legolas

He was in love with Gimli, but in a calm, deeply way which would have been entirely happy to continue as “platonic soulmates” forever.

not gonna write my own questions or tag anyone else because I’m supposed to be finishing a fanfic right now, but thanks for tagging me!

[itshaejinju]

I don't know if you take asks like this... if not: no worries! Who would the bros get along with from the Dragon Age universe? Who would they dislike?

Okay preface: Since the Dragon Age verse has a lot of characters and I’m just going with FF15 (and not that whole verse!) I’m going to choose Dragon Age Inquisition. I’m going to add my normal extras to this, I hope that is just fine~. Also a mix of GIFs and written stuff. 

So that means: Inquisitor (we will use one of mine!) Cassandra, Solas, Varric, Iron Bull, Sera, Dorian, Blackwall, Cole, Josephine, Cullen, Leliana, and Vivian. 

| The Inquisitor I’m using is a Elven Mage who happens to be a human sympathizer she will side with the mages and always be really polite and understanding to humans when they say something rude about Elves. She views that they cannot be smarter enough to understand the way of the Elven so you must be nice to them. |

Tagging: @stephicness @stunninglyignis @themissimmortal @blindbae @cupnoodle-queen @zacklover24 @mistressoli @neko-otaku13 @insomniacapples @cactwerk @murkmouth-garbagemancer @suzunesays @rubyphilomela @chocobropuffs @xnoctits @mandakatt

Noctis: His best friend of the group would be: Cassandra. Noctis is going to identify with Cassandra’s feeling of burden of her family lineage. Also her dedication to her job as Right Hand to the Divine (formerly) will be interesting to him. Plus she’s super good at using her sword and shield he will definitely like to battle with her! Her fondness towards her brother will make Noctis think of Gladiolus and his feelings towards his sister. 

The one he would dislike: I don’t see him liking Blackwall that much, the man did lie about his status and profession. Sure he had merit for it but he should have just come out with it and I just don’t see Noctis agreeing with that. I think he would tolerate Blackwall if he had to put up with him. Any stories Blackwall had of the Wardens Noctis wouldn’t be able to believe since well how true could it be this man has been telling straight up lies since the start? 

Initial reaction upon seeing the group: New people? He’s gotta remember names and deal with them and STAY AWAKE. 

Prompto: His best friend of the group would be: Sera. Sera is pretty much the sunshine child of that game. DOUBLE the SUNSHINE POWER! The two of them could be goofy together, I totally see ridiculous selfies together Sera teaching Prompto how to use a bow and arrow and throwing daggers. He would listen to her stories about the breeches and laugh his ass off wanting to hear more about Red Jenny. 

The one he would dislike: Solas I see Prompto put off by his passive aggressive behavior and attitude. Solas and his sarcasm would sometimes fly right over Prompto’s head and he wouldn’t be too fond of knowing the others are laughing and he’s not because he doesn’t quite get it. (not saying Prompto is stupid it’s just not his type of humor to enjoy!) I think he would be one of the first to pick up on that there is something off about Solas, he seems to know just too much and that is just odd. 

Initial reactions upon seeing the group: Prompto loves meeting new people despite his insecurities. It’s always nice to see new people learn about new things and hell they might want to learn about Chocobos too!

Gladiolus: His best friend of the group would be: The Iron Bull. Imagine the two of these goofs sparring together? (*insert thirsty girl gif*) Gladiolus in “rugged attire” and well Bull doesn’t own a shirt really so the two of them sparring would be epic. Broadsword and the battle axe kinda curious who would win specially when Bull has the Reaver specialty. The two of them would go out drinking and tell wan stories about previous battles. And damn Gladiolus would love to fight a dragon with Bull. (Pretty sure the two of them could take down a Arch Demon) 

The one he would dislike: Leliana oddly enough. It’s because she’s a Spymaster, she’s holding back things all the times because it’s her job. She’s secretive and that means Gladiolus cannot be 100% in the know to protect Noctis. It’s not like he hates her it’s just he doesn’t trust her. 

Initial reaction upon seeing the group: Gladiolus is going to be wary it’s a big group of some rather intimidating people. He’s not going to let anyone suspicious near Noctis, his personal thoughts are not going to matter until he’s sure that they aren’t a threat. *cough*Solas*cough* 

Ignis: His best friend of the group would be: Josephine. Her sense of control and order to everything will be heaven sent to Ignis. Look at all she does for the Inquisition with just a clipboard, a few choice words and a good knowledge of The Game. He will see this as a opportunity to learn more and also bond with someone who knows the stress he goes through as Noctis’ Advisor. 

The one he would dislike: Varric I really think Varric would be too much for him to take even in a small dose. Ignis will treat Varric the same way Cassandra treats the dwarf with apprehension. He might warm up to Varric after a few years but it wouldn’t be a great thing as he wouldn’t agree with Varric’s less than reputable methods of doing things. 

Initial reaction upon seeing the group: He’s going to be totally judging all of the people in the room Ignis is going to be slightly amused by it all. 

Cor: His best friend of the group would be: Blackwall. Where as Noctis doesn’t like Blackwall I think Cor would like him. I believe he would be rather impressed with the way he took up the Warden’s Oath without being sworn in just believing in the ways of the original Blackwall. His stoic nature and subtle dry humor would be something that Cor would appreciate. 

The one he would dislike: Sera - she is just too out there. She hardly makes sense at any time, from her speech pattern and general sense of thinking would be too much for the Marshal. He would understand her sense of justice but the rest of her would make him apprehensive. Cor wouldn’t know what to expect of her and he likes to be able to calculate things to a t. 

Initial reaction upon seeing the group: He’s a bit shocked, amused and thinking, “What the hell is this group doing here?” 

Ravus: His best friend of the group would be: Cullen. They shared similar positions and have had quite a bit of trauma in their life they would bond quickly. (well as quick as Ravus could actually bond with people) Cullen training the troops would be a perfect opportunity for Ravus to learn more and impart wisdom to Cullen. They would definitely admire each other’s armor. 

The one he would dislike: (pretty much everyone else) Sera, he wouldn’t care for her out of there thinking very much like Cor. He would find her too loud too abrasive and just too quirky. It would frustrate him beyond all measure making him just not trustworthy of her her brand of justice has no real rules or regulations that doesn’t set well with Ravus. 

Initial reaction upon seeing the group: He’s wary, sizing them all up and wondering who is the biggest threat. Giving each one a low key glare from Hell. (he’s a wary tsundere baby okay?!)

Nyx: His best friend of the group would be: Varric. He would love to dish out stories and drink with Varric. They would have such tales to tell each other that Varric would have to write a story about Nyx. Pretty sure they would also pair well in battle like I see Legolas/Gimili banter and fighting going on with them. (Like Varric and Bull) 

The one he would dislike: I don’t think he would like Vivian all too much her uptight ways would be a bit off putting to Nyx. Her “noble brow” attitude would aggravate him a lot and her thoughts about Mages would make him think of Crowe a lot and how she would be treated amongst the Chantry and that doesn’t set well with him.  

Initial reaction upon seeing the group: This dude is psyched to meet knew people and hell to they look interested that giant shirtless dude has HORNS! 

Ardyn: His best friend of the group would be: Solas. Evil knows evil they say. Ardyn would know there is something up with Solas and would want to learn out about the Rift and the Veil from Solas. (While slyly learning his ulterior motives) Ardyn wouldn’t part with much actual information about the use of magic in EOS but he would want Solas to part with all that he knows and would probably use some of his talents to make the Elf speak. 

The one he would dislike: Leliana the Spymaster would be on Ardyn instantly knowing there is something wrong with that trash-man and would be constantly investigating him and sizing him up. She would be a thorn in his side for sure. 

Initial reaction upon seeing the group: Ardyn is going to be excited for it more havoc to bring upon the newcomers, his first thoughts are going who to torture? (it’s okay Ardyn you can torture me)

Cindy: Her best friend of the group would be: Varric. She is going to love his personality like just to death, ya’ll. She will spill some drinks with him and listen to all his stories not even caring if they are true or not. A good yarn is a good yarn after all! She will probably crack a joke or two about his height and he will crack a joke about her tits. 

The one she dislikes: Solas he’s a drag. He has a opinion about everything and has a sarcastic comment for all her colloquialisms. She feels like a inferior person in comparison to him after he berates her for something she doesn’t like it very much. (Please Solas leave her alone) 

Initial reaction upon seeing the group: She is excited what things do they know about cars and such? Oh wait they don’t know anything? OH boy does she have stories to tell about air ships, cars and the finer wonders of decals. 

Aranea: Her best friend of the group would be: Iron Bull. They would have such witty battles back and forth. Remember the banter with Bull and Cassandra about the modest armor? Yeah he would telling her that her tits would be gone. And Bull’s banter about picking up Cassandra or Varric (he says it to both!) and tossing them into battle like a boulder Aranea would definitely go for that! They will drink together, who can out drink the other shouting “Ataashi!”

The one she would dislike: Cole and I think that is because she doesn’t understand what he is and because of that she can’t quite trust him or handle him. She would not trust Cole in his ways of being able to just disappear into nothingness it would be something the Dragoon couldn’t foresee and she wants to foresee everything. 

Initial reaction upon seeing the group: New people are just not want Aranea wants to deal with, her sass will not be able to be held back. Aranea will want to toss some shade around the second she can. 

Lunafreya: Her best friend of the group would be Cole. As Oracle I think she would identify a lot with Cole. Sensing his abilities and admiring his sense of compassion. She would try to compare him to Gentiana most likely and would like to talk to him about his past even though he doesn’t remember much.

The one she would dislike: I don’t think she would like Vivian all too much I think she would find her personality too stiff and high brow for her likings too much like the royal of the Nifelheim army. I think she would also feel that Vivian would also want people of her lineage to be kept in a Circle that Oracles couldn’t be trusted with their powers. 

Initial reaction upon seeing the group: Lunafreya will be so excited to meet knew people, she will want to learn about Chant of Light and Andraste. She will be rather sympathetic to the plight of the mages. 

(Like this? How about a cup of coffee?) Requests are still open until 6/25!  

[nelioe]

Post-it

Here is another little fic. Dunno where those short ideas come from at the moment, but I’m certainly not going to complain. Anyway, I hope you will enjoy these two adults acting totally like adults and solving their problems like adults... *coughs* sure... as if.

The silent treatment was becoming ridiculous, but if Fili believed it would get Kili to crack and grovel at his feet he was mistaken. He was a master when it came to holding grudges. Once he had even managed to avoid talking to his mother for a whole month after a major argument. It had taken one of his uncles to help them to reconcile again. Fili wanted war? Then he could have it!

His anger was merely fuelled by the bright yellow post-it note sticking on the fridge.

We are out of milk. Buy some the next time you head out.

Kili narrowed his eyes, barely believing Fili’s commanding tone screaming at him through these few words. The brunet headed over to one of the drawers, reached for the self-stick notepad and a pen and began to write.

Buy it yourself.

*

* 

When he came home the same day after work, a third note was hanging on the fridge.

Don’t be a brat about it. I’ve got the night shift next week and won’t be able to. Just buy the milk, okay?

“Go fuck yourself, Fili,” Kili muttered, grabbing the notepad more forcefully than the first time.

Oh, sure! Because I’m lazy and not working hard? The shops are still open when you have to go to work. You want milk? Get it yourself!

*

*

“How the hell did you manage not to talk to him in one week? You are living in the same flat!” Tauriel stared at him as if he’d grown a second head or lost his mind… or both.

Ori seemed equally baffled, the piece of cake on the fork he just wanted to shove into his mouth momentarily forgotten. Although Kili didn’t want to admit it, he began to feel uncomfortable under their scrutinizing looks and took a big sip of iced coffee to put off answering just for a little while longer.

“Well… he sleeps in the guestroom at the moment,” Kili answered meekly.

“You. Live. In. The. Same. Flat,” she emphasised again. Leaning forward, his friend eyed him critically. “Did you even try to talk to him?”

He wrinkled his nose.

“Why should I? He is the one who started it! I’m not going to apologise for something that’s only going on in his head!” The steadily increasing volume of his voice earned them curious and scolding glances from the other guests of the little ice cream parlour.

“Oh yeah, that’s very mature,” Tauriel scoffed.

“None of us is saying you should apologise,” Ori tried a little calmer. “But you two avoiding each other doesn’t sound like a healthy relationship.”

“I’m not avoiding him on purpose!” He shrunk a little under the warning glare Tauriel darted into his direction. “Well… at least not completely. He is the one avoiding me, always staying hidden in the guestroom… I just… I just let him have his way.”

Shaking her head in exasperation, the redhead huffed, her long fiery hair almost dunking into the bowl of whipped cream on the table.

“You know you have to talk with him sooner or later? That or break up with him.”

Kili froze. Breaking up? Was that how it sounded for his friends? While he admitted that the situation was a little ridiculous, especially for Tauriel in her long and harmonic relationship with Legolas, breaking up wasn’t an option for Kili. Not yet at least…

Were they truly moving into this direction? Was Kili just too proud to see it? Of course the argument had hurt him and of course he was still angry and didn’t even think of apologising, but he was still stupidly in love with Fili.

The conversation gave him food for thought.

At home another post-it note was sticking at the fridge.

I didn’t say you don’t work hard. I’m just knackered. Can you please buy some milk?

Fili hated the taste of coffee without milk.

*

* 

Bought the milk. There was an offer on your favourite chocolate. Got you a bar as well.

Thanks, was written on the first note. Kili’s gaze slowly wandered to the second. I’m sorry I called you a slut.

His stomach twisted uncomfortably with the memory of pain returning to the forefront of his mind. Even written like that the words hadn’t lost any of their ugliness.

You hurt me, the writing was slightly messy, but he couldn’t shake the trembles from his hand.

Kili fled to the bedroom for the night.

*

*

I know. I’m so very sorry. I was jealous and scared. Sometimes I wonder how a guy like you can love someone like me.

He had actually planned to have breakfast, but the new note Fili must’ve left for him in the evening felt like a punch to the guts, dispelling the hunger and making him nauseous. His boyfriend had never hit him as someone battling insecurities. Then again, maybe he was just a genius in hiding them well. Either way, Kili was at a loss. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do, just stared at the gathering of words and the heart-breaking meaning they formed.

In the end he was late for work because he was busy with covering the fridge in post-it notes.

Are you serious? You are the best thing that ever happened to me.

I love your smile.

I love the way your hair feels between my fingers.

I love the sound of your laugh and how you murmur in your sleep.

I love that special chicken soup you make whenever I’m feeling sick.

I love the way you curl around me at night, as if you want to protect me from the monsters in my nightmares.

I love the way you hum along your favourite songs.

I love the way you look at me, how you seem to block out the whole world… as if I’m the only one that matters to you.

I love your stupid unfunny jokes.

I love how patient you are with me, whenever I’m stressed or panicking.

I love your adventurous moods and impartiality.

I love that you don’t make fun of my fear of spiders and rescue me every time I ask.

I love how you whisper my name in the dead of the night.

I love the way your hand feels in mine, how you hold me close.

I love the way you kiss me, the way you touch me, the way you feel inside me, the way you make me feel whole.

I love that whatever happens you will be there for me.

*

*

By the time of his lunch break, Kili spotted a couple of missed messages on his phone. A grin wandered to his lips.

Gods, Kee. You are… you are the most amazing man I ever met!

I love you more than I can put into words.

I’m so sorry for forcing this stupid fight on you.

I’m so sorry I almost ruined things between us.

Please, forgive me.

The brunet headed slowly to a corner of the room, away from his colleagues so he could reply in peace.

I forgive you, he typed. And I’m sorry for calling you a control freak, I know you are just trying to watch out for me.

He didn’t have to wait long for an answer. Fili was up surprisingly early for doing the night shift all week.

It’s fine. I deserved it. I was awful to you.

You won’t hear any arguing from me.

Despite being unable to see his boyfriend right now, Kili still knew he would snort with fondness.

I took the day off. Do you think we could have dinner together and talk when you come back home?

The brunet frowned.

Can you do this just like that? Won’t you get in trouble?

You are more important right now. I can handle a little yelling from Thorin.

Warmth spread through Kili’s chest. Even though he would prefer for the blond to avoid such a lecture when he went back to work, he couldn’t deny that he felt deeply moved. And yet…

Only under one condition.

Which is?

You will come back to our bed.

Deal.