#so expect more gender coining hopefully

[genders-and-dinos]

—> angustuckcharic

a gender related to the character of angus tuck from tuck everlasting. can be connected to the book version, musical version, or both. may be connected to fishing, fatherhood, and/or protectiveness.

[PT: angustuckcharic: a gender related to the character of angus tuck from tuck everlasting. can be connected to the book version, musical version, or both. may be connected to fishing, fatherhood, and/or protectiveness. end PT]

coined by me ; req. by no one

[comfortless]

I already sent you an ask today so hiiii

(Alright so now I hopefully have your attention, imagine: ancient settling, mercenary könig is made prisoner and enslaved and reader, a cute noble girl, buys him to ☆have fun☆. He doesn't mind at all.)

Have a good day!

anon whoever you are… every message that you have sent has been like you putting a clawing animal in my brain. all of these concepts are so good. sorry it took me a bit to get around to this one. <:•)

captured mercenary! König x noblewoman! reader

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. medieval au (so: gender role nonsense), slightly mean slightly pathetic König, very brief mentions of violence/beheading, masturbation.

“That one.”

You hear yourself speak without thought. Your voice is shy, almost. It’s unbecoming of your station to seem so meek… even as you eye the men lined up before you like cattle prepped for slaughter.

Prisoners, they were. All apart from the one you had chosen would be little more than toys for the executioner after what they’ve done: to think that such a little band of mercenaries would even be planning for a siege… ridiculous. Most of the men have already had their hair cut cleanly away from their necks in preparation for the blade that would be slicing past each vertebrae and layer of muscle to chop away their heads.

This one is saved only because he’s been stripped of his armors, and though his face is rather rugged… there’s strength beneath his skin and such a deep misery in his eyes it sets your chest ablaze with pity. He could be useful, a willing servant if you could only save him from what terrible thing haunts him.

Maybe it’s the old wounds that flare his skin with the raised flesh of scar tissue, perhaps it’s the harelip or the wild thing set between his thighs where he’s forced to kneel. It catches your eye, that last one…

The prisoner’s jaw sets when your finger does point his way, blue eyes narrow just a fraction as realization settles in the pit of his stomach. No freedom to be garnered here, no love, nothing but that blade he had intended to use against you sworn to you instead. If the giant spit at your feet then, it would be expected, welcomed almost with the way your chest roars with sympathy.

He only stares.

You pay off his captors with a few silver coins and watch as they lead him bound to your side. His arms are tied too tightly before him, muscles slack with exertion after trying to fight the ropes for what must have been hours. Whether he sees you as savior or something revolting remains unknown. He doesn’t speak, not even as a servant leads him into the back of your carriage and you step inside after him, holding up the middle of your gown as to not sully it with the dirt and old blood splattered over the stones layered for street.

When the horses begin to move you give the man a proper once over, hiding your smile beneath a handkerchief, free hand curled into the lap of your skirts. He’s not just tall and broad, but incredibly well endowed. Not just sad and downtrodden, but pissed, though the only tell remains his shaking fists. His gaze never meets yours for longer than a moment before it settles back to gaze at the passing tall grass and sheep prancing about the fields, but each time that it does… there is no denying the mixture of confusion, maybe even attraction upon his face.

Your home was something this giant had never had a taste of prior to you: a castle atop a hill, charming and stone with its high ramparts and blunt roof. You didn’t need his confirmation in words, though you do ask and get nothing in turn.

The carriage pulls you right through the gate and it is almost cute the way that this man’s eyes seem to wander as he takes it all in. There are other servants tending to the sheep and horses, the smell of fire and the chiming of blade meeting blade ringing out as men spar, there are cats to keep away pests and modest but cozy homes, a tavern, an inn all beyond the wall. A small city of your own: all for the perfect little noblewoman that you were.

The only thing that you lacked was the trained sword of a man to ensure your safety, and now you had that, too.

You explain to him his place here, the role that he would take for the price you paid as you both disembark from the wooden carriage. He would be fitted for armor donning your family’s crest come the morning, whipped into obedience should he dare raise a hand toward any one here. You even think to warn him of the executioner’s sloppy work, how he may even live with his head chopped only halfway off should you request it…. some horror you had heard one of the travelers speak of.

As the weeks pass, König does begin to settle immensely. His speech is disjointed and parsed, his mother tongue muddled with your own language in a way that is cute… terribly, horribly cute.

He’s intelligent and strong: spends much of his time out amongst the lower men aiding with the animals and teaching them the deft way he swings his blade. It is an art form in its own right, the way that he paints the air with swift strokes… For a woman to fawn over a man’s swordplay was absurd, but it was impossible not to enjoy when he taunts and jabs the way that he does.

He rarely wears that armor the blacksmith crafted for him, both a flattery and an insult. You don’t mind watching him best smaller men in solely his trousers, pressing their faces into the muck while he barks his insults to them in words they can not understand. To you, now, when he flashes the most beastly of grins in your direction and utters the words, “Verpiss dich.”

You aren’t even certain why you stand there rather than hissing out orders to have him taken away. Your stupid corset feels too tight, gown too small, and your chest aches. There's not been a thing you could do to have this man do more than simply tolerate you. He sleeps within his own room in the castle, eats his fill and then some, you talk to him and layer your words with praise. He has not once been punished for anything. Not even now.

“Come here,” you demand without thought, walking down the staircase to cross the yard with your hands balled into delicate fists at your sides.

Your giant only looks confused for a moment as he clambers off of the man he’s just wrestled to the earth and rights himself. His eyebrows raise, his nostrils flare… and then he laughs. At you like you’re the most puny of rabbits, hardly a threat. Your betters would have laughed too at just how fragile you sound, on the cusp of tears over what? Some ridiculous little crush on a captive soldier??

He eventually does as you ask, stomping over to stand before you- not kneel, he never knelt. If his height and stature were meant to intimidate… your god would have to forgive the thoughts that muddle your head then, like filthy water as you drink him in.

“Was…?”

So you explain to him as best you can just how insolent he’s being, how horribly he repays your kindness, how he would be dead on some shrouded mountain pass or have his body tossed into the river if not for you. You explain your heart out when tears come to your eyes and spring forth as your chittering continues, and you don’t even know if the moron can understand; he only stands there with the wildest grin on his face when he sees you beginning to sniffle and sob.

“Was?,” he demands again, blunt even as he takes your face into one of his large hands, turns your head to brush a tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Why are you crying?”

“You need to learn your place!” And you know you’re being a hypocrite, that a proper lady should never allow a man to touch her like this, look at her the way that König does. You should call for a servant to have him dragged through the yard and whipped… or worse, but your voice only comes in a crestfallen whisper.

He shrugs those massive shoulders, rolls his neck and huffs a breath as he gazes down at you before his hand falls to his side and he merely walks away. That’s it.

Though you had the hopes that your warning had been taken seriously, the days following seem even worse.

König abandons his duties and takes up the most horrendous idea of courtship that he can muster. If courtship is even what it could be considered. It is more like a direct taunt, a jab now that he’s been made perfectly aware just how fragile the maiden he was sold to guard is.

He takes liberties once you’ve bedded down each night, your dresses stripped away to be replaced with a plain linen gown with nothing beneath: your only protection in the form of the wooden door between you two because König is no protector.

It always starts with the sound of spitting into his palm, then a drawn out sigh that rises to a near-animalistic groan. Sometimes he speaks, other times the soft, wet sounds rise in tempo until all that comes from his mouth are sharp hisses and whines.

This night proves to be the worst.

The wood creaks under his weight as he leans back against the door, stroking himself to the thought of you behind it. He makes it apparent when he breathes your name, low and shaky as you squeeze your eyes closed and pretend to not hear the words that follow.

“Scheiße… bet you’re tight,” he hisses between his depraved whimpers, the slick sounds increasing even as he rights himself to stand proper. You can almost hear the way he salivates, can almost imagine the way his jaw must fall slack and his eyes go dazed as he pleasures himself… you squeeze your thighs shut.

“Ja… you want it too, huh…” The bastard is most assuredly imagining you, knelt before him with the most helpless, reverent gaze as you plead for him. It should make you ill, yet it only stokes a fire in your belly, one that bridges between rage and need. “Ich will dich ficken…”

Your breath comes to a halt when your hand drifts beneath your thin gown, forcing yourself to listen as he brings himself to ruin in the halls as your finger presses to the spot that demands attention most of all. A fragile, shaking circle before your breath already begins to catch.

“Bitte…”

The brute sounds so helpless now, no longer the horrid thing that ordered you to “piss off” or scowled in your direction. He doesn’t know a thing about love… about how one should yearn for a maiden, only of spilling blood and seed. It’s only in the quiet of the night when the rest of the castle sleeps does he allow himself to be even this vulnerable… only his vulnerability seems even more terrifying.

His groans morph into pitiful sighs as he no doubt slows his motions, drawing out an impending orgasm in the hope that you will crawl to your door to let him in and fuck you rough on your bed.

“Just let me…”

Your thighs tremble as you weep between them in longing. The sooner it’s over the sooner you can close your eyes and drift back to sleep, no longer needing him the way he seems to need you now.

Your motions grow more heady, the patterns traced quicker and more deliberate as the heat rushes down further like the most vast wave of pure fire… When you tense, when your lips part to allow a low murmur of pleasure to slip from them, you’re met with laughter from the other side of the door.

“Ja… my lady… you do want it,” he hums as you draw your covers up and over your head in shame. You hadn’t been that loud, surely… but the way that he follows after, coming undone himself with a loud grunt as though it were some ridiculous competition…

“Let me fuck you next time,” he rasps, panting soft as he leans back. Depraved as he was, you were certain he was probably admiring the pearly paint he left along the stones. “That is my place, hm?”

[moodymisty]

Hello! I noticed you wrote something for Darksodwrs Samael, I'm so happy! Might I request some... Headcanons I think would be best, for Samaels s/o or, if the relationship isn't established just yet, crush, always ‘draping’ him in earnest, kind yet simple compliments? From both his spectacular appearance to his brilliant mind? Apologise if this is a bit vague! Thank you!

Author's note: Hello Hello friend! I'm excited to give another try at writing for Samael, so hopefully you will like this one. I decided to do some headcanons, with a bit of a little tiny drabble at the end. Best of both worlds.

Relationships: Samael/Gn!Reader (just how it turned out; not a nickname or anything that could allude to a specific gender in sight)

Warnings: None, unless you consider flirting with a demon something to warn about ;3

Samael is of the sort who believes that behind every single compliment, wink, gift- is a motive. Be it monetary, physical, or something else entirely. No one does something without expecting something in return, be it now, or down the line.

That thought process very quickly gets challenged however, when he meets you.

As a human associated with the Horsemen, you have a lot to gain from making nice with him; Or at least making a tentative enough relationship that it secures more of the safely of your realm.

But everything you do just, doesn't make sense to him. No matter how hard he's tried to wrack his brain, there isn't a solid reason as to why you do and say the things you do to him.

You'd first asked for a tour of his palace- odd, given humans have a fear of Hell, but he had indulged. Maybe you're looking for structural weaknesses, or ideas of what he's researching to relay back to the Horsemen so they can keep an eye on him. He doesn't think it would be too unusual for them to use you in that way; Even if they are not fond of the two of you being in the same realm to begin with.

But no, that doesn't turn out to be the case. You just ask about paintings and gold coins, curiously looking up at towering statues of demons who's names you have not the slightest clue.

And as if that isn't odd enough for the demon to deal with, not soon after, you start complimenting him.

Not even just about his power or stature, but odd seemingly minuscule things. And for the first time, he doesn't have a response to them. At least none of the usual ones. They all feel so, crude, in comparison as to what you're saying to him.

'Do all demons have wings like yours? They look amazing...'

'Have you really been around that long? You need to tell me about some of the things you've seen.'

'Has anyone ever told you your voice is, really soothing?'

You always have a smile when you say these things, and for the first time, Samael is genuinely confused and almost unsure of what to do. On one hand he wants to be suspicious, but on the other, he feels like he's getting wrapped around your finger.

Each time he sees you he's yearning for a compliment to come from your lips. Less so because of narcissism, and more so because they sound so earnest. You mean each and every one of them, unlike others who are only seeking to throw platitudes at him.

Maybe that's been your plan the whole time, to make him like you like this. He almost becomes furious at the idea that it's actually working.

You're on his mind far more than anything else, thinking of you and softening some of his sharper edges so he doesn't wound your gentle soul with harsh words he's used to using towards other demons.

He starts getting you physical gifts in retaliation; A handcrafted sword, jewelry suited to your tastes, mythical texts in books bound with gold filigree. All extravagant, and nothing he's even done before. He didn't even go through this sort of thought for Lilith.

You refuse most of them, the latest time specifying why- saying that your time with him is good enough. And it only serves to baffle him even more.

In a way, Samael would almost classify himself as beginning to have an obsession over you. But he keeps himself in line with his expected formality, just barely.

"So, what is it you're going to show me?"

You can't help but keep up the air of curiosity, looking up at Samael as one of his wings casually stretches. Their shape was always curious to you, but you've never gotten around to asking if they're simply unique to him, or if the odd upside down shape is simply common among demons. He's the only friendly demon you've met, after all.

"Your ceaseless curiosity is going to get you in trouble, one day." He says so with a voice filled with teasing, so you just shrug your shoulders.

"Funny, you're not the first non-human that's said that to me." He's not surprised in the slightest at that fact, though he does wonder who else it was that said so. Presumably one of the Horsemen.

Death, if he had to guess. It would be the most in character of him to do so, especially considering he is the one most against your being near him.

"Here we are." You're a bit too busy looking up at him to notice where you've ended up, until you turn your head and notice the drastically different scenery ahead of you.

"This is my private library." He takes on step forward, still speaking to you, but also overlooking the vast array of tables and shelves. His tail gently hovers over the ground, swaying back and forth lazily.

"Almost every bit of knowledge I have collected rests here." Samael protects this area with almost as much fervor as his own life; It's the source of so much of what he knows, and a one of his grandest prizes.

After all when you're effectively immortal, things like gold and shining trinkets stop meaning as much, in the grand scheme of things. Then do things like information, knowledge and secrets, begin to hold a much greater value. So even if you may not even realize, it's a overwhelmingly large deal for him to do this.

A testament for how much he sees in you that he likes.

"You had mentioned enjoying tomes." He has a tiny smirk that reveals the sharp points of his upper fangs. "Feel free to sate your curiosity."

Mouth set partly agape you look around, the usual filigree of the demon's palace also adorning a large array of tomes. He's watching your glowing face, and in a briefly pride filled thought, he's pleased to finally get such a reaction from you. None of his other gifts had worked; And over time he's learned that you don't want strictly physical things.

What is odd for him however, is that getting this reaction from you doesn't earn him anything. Normally that would've been his only goal, but now, it's only seeing your fondness for him that he desires. A small repayment, for all of the kind little human words you've shown him.

"Seriously?" His smirk grows wider, showing off his sharp teeth even more. At which you smile back, feeling your face grow a bit warm.

"Thanks, Samael. This is amazing."

"Now, go have your fun. Before the Horsemen come to steal you back." He gestures with his head forward and watches as you trot away. Though as you start to look around, Samael's mind begins to wander as well.

Now that he's earned your friendship, Samael begins to wonder what he can do to earn more, looking at the way you're gleefully peering around. You've shown so much of your little soul to him, and he wants more. Not to toy with it, or snuff it out; He wants to keep it safe. Keep it all to himself. There's not much more he wants now than for you to say you love him.

Now Samael finds himself understanding why the other races are becoming so fond of humans.

[chim-aera]

my everything

pairing: kili durin × (gender - nuetral) reader

genre: fluff / comfort / a little angst

warnings?: minor swears? kili being soft 🤍

translations: sanazyun-perfect love / gehyith-little dove / amralime-my love/

summary: When a few unkind words spoken from a stranger spark y/n's doubt in their own worth it's up to kili to make things right again.

author's note: (aa hi loves! this is pretty much my first fanfic to publish, so please excuse the awkwardness!!)

Darkness was falling over Middle Earth, and you and a few members of the company were shambling your way through the murky evening towards a dimly lit shack quite a bit out of reach.

The shack as it so happened, was actually a tavern, a very small one at that, but a tavern nonetheless. It had been at least thirty minutes, or what seemed like hours, since Thorin had sent off you, Kili, Fili, and Ori to scout the building, and hopefully bring back some food. Bilbo, who had also insisted on tagging along in "the hopes of being reminded of a casual life," as he so called it. Was muttering a bit, out of breath, you weren't feeling so exceptional either.

"I really am starting to miss the ponies," you announce, referring to the fact that they had been left in the care of the others to rest up for the journey that would continue in the morning.

You adjusted the mantle draped over your shoulders, it seemed to grow heavier every step you took, and your muscles were already furious at you from the neverending mishaps of evading trolls, climbing mountains, and slaying goblins.

"I do think we're already there at least," Ori offered hopefully, five sets of eyeballs glance ahead and breathe a collective sigh of relief, you'd all made it to the pub.

"You know if I was a bit less dignified I'd race you lot inside,"

You give the dark haired dwarf a pointed look, and cross your arms.

"And what gives you the idea you are dignified?" Jested his brother, you snort a small laugh and Kili feigns offense, his hand over his chest.

"Well in that case we might as well get a bit of a move on."

"We all need to stay out of trouble, and stay together!" You shout at them as you watch the two siblings bolt off, Ori half-jogging behind them.

"Youths," Bilbo muttered, but there was a good natured lilt in his voice, you nodded and gave him a tired smile. The two of you then civily followed the others up the splintered steps and towards the large oaken door.

You swing it open with a tug, the wood being significantly heavier than you expected, but you manage to, and warm yellow-orange light pour over as you both step inside.

The scents of candle wax, spiced mead, and herbal loaves flood your senses, while genial laughter and raucous yells fill the atmosphere. You easily spot the three young dwarves across the tables and near the back where the barrels of mead which have been brewing for Mahal knows how long stood like rotund sentries.

You begin weaving through the sea of sprawled out ankles and overturned benches to reach them, your hobbit friend seems to catch on rather quickly and follows suit, in a bit more graceful manner.

"Kili Durin I really hope you're finding food for everyone right now," your gloved hands tugging the hood of your Dwarven lover, gaining his attention, and surprise.

"Sanazyun! Hello!" Kili exclaimed, giving you a large, and rather guilty smile. You huff softly,

"We're here to get supplies, nothing else." He nods, taking your hand and giving it a gentle pat.

"I haven't forgotten, Ori is retrieving it as we speak, Fee and I wanted to bring refreshments too, everything will be fine!" He reassured you. You silently wonder if the mere amount of coins you had left from the trolls' cave was enough to suffice for both nourishment and beverages. The young prince must've read your mind for he turned on his heels before giving you a reassuring glance, "I'll go check on Ori first, we'll be back to camp in no time."

"I hope so," you admit, watching as he easily maneuvered through the crowd of wanderers to help a poor Ori who had been left with quite a handful. You lean your back against the bar lipping and sigh, your eyes already squinting to find Bilbo, you couldn't afford to lose anyone, especially in this sort of situation.

"So, what's a group like you lot doin' out in these hills?"

You turn around to face the ashen faced bar-tender, his greasy hair was plastered to his forehead, and he was giving you quite the unnerving half smile.

"Just on the way to visit some family," you replied curtly, reiterating a lie that you had heard Thorin use more often than naught.

"You're part dwarf?" He prodded, sounding disbelieving, sounds more like you're all on a little quest of some sorts."

"And is there a problem if we are?" You were already tired, hungry, and overly anxious you absolutely did not need confrontation. Not on this night, and not in this state. But the man seemed hellbent on causing you to lose your temper. You sent a pleading look to Fili, hoping he'd come to your aid, but you realize he was no longer beside you. He must've went over to help Kee and Ori. Leaving you alone with the oily tavern keeper.

"Well then what'd do ya do? What's your part of the lot?"

You didn't really quite know how to answer that, you hadn't exactly chosen to go on the quest. You had just been a friend of Radagast the Brown, who in turn was a friend to Gandalf the Grey, and from that he had shown up on your door offering adventure and perhaps a little gold. But you had found yourself with much more than that just this far on the journey.

But that led back to the question that was pointedly asked of you. What was your purpose?

Bilbo was the burglar, sure he complained quite a bit, and didn't act as overzealous as the others, but he was remarkably helpful in a tight squeeze and seemed far more promising then what'd everyone first expected.

Thorin was the heir of Durin, and the rightful King under the Mountain, Kee and Fee were his own heirs.

Even Ori was a wizard with a quill, with both words and drawings. He could even use a sword for better than worse.

"Your silence answers for you," chuckled the barkeep, and you're shaken back to the present time. "So are you like a mascot or somethin' then?"

Without controlling your tongue you admit honestly "well no, I'd suppose that'd be Bilbo." And you meant it in the most friendliest of ways.

"Then you're kinda useless than," he shrugged, "you're not even doin' anything now."

You quickly snap your neck around to glare the man square in the eyes, you open your mouth to say something but you couldn't find any words. In a contempt of anger you slam your elbow against the wood of the shelf in front of you, but to your dismay one of the glass bottles on top of it wobbles, then descends to the floor, shattering immediately. You can subconsciously feel every eyeball turn to smolder into your soul, and it didn't help the barkeeper began spewing curses, and accusing you of "started a fight did they!" or "they tried to hit me over the head with a bottle!"

You stand there frozen as a few patrons begin stalking towards you when a sharp yell rings out behind you.

"Y/N! Hey! Over here!" You make a break towards familiar voice and Kili grabs your forearms, you could feel his gaze looking you over for injuries. When he sees you're fine he nudges your shoulder with a smile "ey' what happened to staying out of trouble?" He said lightly, but you couldn't find the courage to meet his eyes.

"Sorry," you almost whispered, he shook his head, his brows furrowed.

"Don't be, let's go grab Bilbo and be rid of this place. He wasn't giving you trouble was he?" He asked referring to the arse of a barkeeper, you wanted to say yes but you decided against making even more of a scene. So you just shake your head in reply.

The two of you are met by Ori and Fili who hold two wooden slabs of bread, cheese, and sausage, Bilbo was holding a very small barrel of some unknowable liquid, and was looking remarkably suspicious of its contents. You heard him murmer something along the lines of "this is not how you're supposed to brew it but heavens knows how long ago it was brewed."

Your mind was still a bit hazy from the embarrassment of earlier, you hated a creep like him had gotten to you, but your doubt still trickled down your spine and clouded your head space. You decided being helpful would clear your mood a bit.

"Ori I can hold that for you, you've got far too much in your arms right now," you said thoughtfully, your friend gave you a thankful smile as you took a tray from his hands. Unfortunately the moment it was in your grasp you realize you had underestimated it's weight and the whole wooden platter crashed to the ground, food and all. A horrified gasp ushered from you and the hobbit, who if you hadn't known really do take meals quite seriously. Your embarrassment was burning your body now, and you looked down at the awful mess you had just made.

"You're kinda useless then,"

The previous words echoed theough your skull, and now your truly believed them. Look what you've done.

"I'm so sorry!" You cried out, your face was hot with dread; you knew every soul in the full little tavern was glaring daggers at you. They might've as well been shooting arrows into you from all sides, you thought.

Panic was already forming a lump in your chest, but before you could do or say anything more, not that you really had the nerve to that is, a gentle hand took your own and led you towards the door.

The moment you stepped out into the night you felt the blistering heat of tears you so desperately wished wouldn't fall.

"You looked like you needed some air Gehyith, and I was right I believe."

"Kee, I'm so sorry." Your words tumble out awkwardly, and you slump to sit on an unearthed stone. You angrily wipe away a few stubborn tears that had trickled down your reddened cheeks, and felt miserable in both body and soul. You partially expected Kili to scold you or say you might as well call off any hopes of ever courting after Erebor was reclaimed. The night was already disastrous, it might as well happen too.

"Are you alright Y/N?"

You continued to avoid his gaze, looking down at your trodden boots, and the frozen grass below them.

"Kili, am I worthless?"

The question had been gnawing at you for eternity. Far before slimy barkeeps, and far before embarrassing accidents of spilling food. It was something you'd always doubt, your own worth. And you silently wondered if that's what everyone saw you as. Feeble, incompetent, something to take pity on.

You watched the dwarf's eyebrows scrunch up in deep thought, confusion strewn across his features. At first he looked shocked, then angry, then a look of sadness washed over him.

"Y/N" he murmured your name softly before you felt the gentle touch of his hands as they cupped your face, his thumbs wiping any of the remaining tears away. He shuffled closer until your noses nearly touched, you could smell the scent of metal shavings and earth, and you could see each other's breath in the frigid night air.

"Amralime, why would ever ask a question like that?" He asked firmly,

You sighed, "because I tend to mess everything up."

"Do you know how many times I mess up? Every day? Or how much Fee does?" You'd almost laugh at the thought of him bringing his brother into the conversation. But you still felt dreadful, so you just gave him a small smile. "Is this because of what happened in there? Did someone say something to you? Was it because the food? Ori and Bilbo will sort everything out as we speak," he assured you, you sighed again and took his hand looking into his eyes.

"But they shouldn't have to, I should fix everything, it's my fault. I just make things harder for you all. What's even my purpose in all this?"

"What's my purpose in all this?"

He avoided your question by asking his own, you frowned at him.

"You're a prince, Kili."

"And?" He prodded,

"You're an archer, and you're Thorin's nephew, you're a good warrior, and"-

He abruptly interrupted you by clicking his tongue and taking your face once again in his hands, his palms slightly squishing your cheeks. You attempt to frown at him but you assume it looks rather ridiculous with how he seems to bite back a smile.

"You are the one who needs cheering up, not me."

"No I don't." You assure him, and with another wave of guilt sitting on your shoulders you added, "I'm just pretty useless."

Now you expected Kili to say something hopeful or at least make a joke from how the conversation was going but nothing on Middle Earth could have quite prepared you for an attack embrace from your Dwarven lover. One moment you're sitting on a rather large stone, as he's kneeling in front of you, and the next he's tackled you to the earth, until you're resting on his chest caged between his arms.

"Kili Durin??" You exclaim, not out of anger nor fright but rather surprise instead. You struggle a bit, shifting against his grip but unfortunately dwarves are remarkably strong, and it didn't help his archery made him even a bit stronger.

"Kili what if they all catch us?" You worried, he simply hummed against your neck.

"That's entirely up to you, my dear Y/N. For I am not letting you go until you stop attacking my favorite person on Middle Earth."

You caught onto who he was referring to rather quickly but you decided do jest just a bit.

"What ever did I do Thorin?"

"Well there was that one time you did put his sword on that tree branch that was just a wee bit taller than him."

"That was your idea!" You now felt laughter bubble in your chest, and the levity of the situation seemed to make you release that long breathe you didn't know you were holding in.

"True, but I was not the one who placed it up there, you are the tallest in the company." He tutted, and you let out a snort of protest.

"I am taller than Thorin by at least an inch or two, it's not like I'm an elf Kili."

It was his turn to chuckle, and you both seemed to rest in a comfortable silence for a bit. You looked up at him, admiring how his features, even in the dim glow of moonlight, were still ethereal. His dark hair was tangled around his face like a halo of shadows, and his eyes glinted with fondness, you couldn't really help but nuzzle into his chest.

"Y/N?" He echoed your name as if it were a prayer to the Valar.

"Hm?" You asked blinking up at him,

"Please don't ever say you're useless again. I hate seeing you hurt, and when you say things that are hurtful to yourself I really don't know what to do." He admitted sounding conflicted. "You're amazing, and who cares if you are a little clumsy here and there everyone is! You're kind, and clever, you're great with braids, you can even ride a full grown horse! Even if you're still basically dwarf sized."

You swat his nose and he laughs merrily.

"But really, I'm going to need you to promise me, and I can help you too. If you're ever feeling down just tell me. You've always helped me when I'm sad so please"-

The loud expression of someone clearing their throat caused both of you snap your necks up and gaze forward, to meet the eyes of an almost frightened looking Ori, a glaring Bilbo (who was the owner of the throat-clearing voice) and a beaming Fili who's expression seemed overly proud.

You and the young prince couldn't really do anything but stare at the company like deer in the middle of a crossfire.

"I swear to the gods this isn't what it looks like." You manage to spit out worriedly,

"I don't even know what this looks like," Ori admitted.

"Ha, my little brother isn't so little anymore! You two really are betrothed, you know if you ever need some pointers I'd gladly give some advice and"- Bilbo shut the dwarf up by squarely elbowing him in the ribs.

"Actually," stated Kili, who pulled you to your feet and stood beside you, smirking a bit at your blushing. "Y/N here said they felt useless, so I had to talk some sense into them." He said simply.

The company looked a mixture of relieved and disappointed (only Fili), and their voices overlapped a bit. Mostly with exclamations and disagreements until Kili had calmed them all down.

"Everything is fine now, right?" He turned to you for approval and you nodded, brushing some dusty snow off your tunic and straightening the creases in your mantle.

The five of you then began back up the sloping, muddy hill towards the forests. Where, if you squinted enough, you could make out the wispy, billowing smoke of the fire Thorin had blazing. Ori holding one tray of food, (for as it turned out Fili had managed to get them all thrown out of the tavern barely fleeing with what the had.) That soothed your nerves a bit too, since it seemed the bad luck was mutual, not just preying on you.

You carried the barrel, with Kili behind you, watching your footing so the slush didn't cause you to slip and hurt yourself. You gave him a fond smile and he'd scrunch his nose at you whenever you turned around to look him. Everything seemed normal again, or as normal as a journey to a mystic mountain could be at least.

"You know sometimes, I believe people put a bit too much weight on talents and exceptional things." Said Bilbo a bit a matter of factly. He was toying with his pipe as he walked beside you, looking rather pensive. "But I think it's the everyday things that prove someone's worth. How you enjoy things that delight you, how you treat your friends, etcetera. I've never been fond of the whole being perfect business, mind you."

"Thank you Master Burglar." The Hobbit smiled a small, awkward smile and nodded his head. He then hurredly pattered off as you reached the woods,

"He's off to see someone isn't he." You mused out loud.

"Indeed he is, and I do believe it isn't his pony." Kili added, you both chuckle to yourselves, and you slip your hand into his large one.

"Hey Y/N, I've got to ask? What really happened in the tavern? Something bothered you, I know you pretty well, you have to admit." He egged on, and you knew how stubborn the dwarf prince could be, so you figured you might as well be out with it.

"Well actually that barkeep sort of started everything." You admitted, barely noticing Bombur who relieved you of your barrel duty, and Ori's of his.

You did however notice Kili's face tense up, so much you thought for a moment he actually resembled the Thorin Oakenshield himself.

"He did what?"

"Well, I mean yeah, he was all nosy with the questions about us. And then he brought up how I was kind of useless." You shrugged, realizing how silly it all sounded, and feeling better by the minute. That was until you saw the face of your dwarf, who looked about ready to kill a man.

Suddenly he turned on his heel and began rushing down the rock slope.

"Kili just where are you going??"

"To kick someone's arse!" He called back to you rather promptly.

"What in Mahal's name is that boy doing? Kili!" Thorin roared looking properly over everything at this point. Fili stood beside you watching his brother make a mad dash back where they had just departed from. You stare at the blonde, knowing full well what he was about to do, he grinned, and then he followed suit, running off into the dark.

The night ended with Thorin dragging his nephews by the backs of their tunics back to camp, and now you all huddled around the fire. Mostly everyone was nodding off to sleep, having listened to remarkable stories, and having eaten a proper amount of food. While you and Kili lay on your backs staring out into the sky.

"I'd like to answer your question from before you know. On what you mean, at least to me."

You turned over to face him, "and what is that? What am I to you oh Prince of Durin," you asked softly. He smiled but looked uncharacteristically solemn.

"You're my everything."

With the lightness of starlight weaving through your chest you filled in the remaining space between the two of you. And you fell asleep resting between each other's heartbeats.

[visualskirt]

So, its apparently butch appreciation day so can I just talk about how trans butches constantly have people attempting to forcibly remove them from butchness instead of appreciating us?

Like, from what I’ve read and seen from transmasc butches, they’re typically assumed to be trans men - especially those who chose to use T and/or have top surgery. They’re actively having their identity erased by other people to better fit their narrow worldview, even by other trans people! Not to diminish the solidarity that can, should, and does exist between butches and trans men but they are not interchangeable categories.

And on the other side of the coin, I feel like butch trans women are often forced into a non-binary identity which I know probably sounds insane to those who are aware of the “amab enby” conundrum.

For those of you who aren’t, there’s very much this phenomenon where all people who were diagnosed with dick at birth will be lumped in with and assumed to be trans women leading to the seeming lack of “amab enbies”. As a trans woman, I’ve seen this happen in real time to my friends and it’s very much a real thing. I am not, and will never, argue that this isn’t a real problem.

However, I am almost constantly bombarded with attempts to push me into a non-binary identity. I’m constantly called non-binary by several of my friends (some of whom are non-binary themselves!) and have they/them pronouns applied to me despite never using those pronouns. In fact, they/them has always been the pronoun that I am the least attracted to using. Not to mention the shortening of my name, Danielle, to Dani which is a gender neutral form of my name I despise and I have repeatedly said as much.

Like, I am a trans woman who is openly butch. I have very short hair, dress in the same clothes I always have, use pronouns outside of the big three, and bind my chest (at least until I can hopefully eventually get top surgery). Despite those differences from what is expected by society for my gender presentation, my gender identity at its most basic un-nuanced level is still woman in the same way as it for my most femme sisters. I am a woman. Plain and simple.

I don’t know if this is something that is unique to me or not, but I hate that it’s happening at all. Like, as trans/nby people shouldn’t we of all people know not to do this type of identity erasure?

It’s just a painful experience that I think comes of a desire for more diverse nby representation, but there are so many actual nby people that y’all should be listening to instead of trying to force me into that identity because I don’t fit your stereotypical expectations of a trans woman.

(other trans butches please feel free to chime in if you see this - especially transmasc butches as I’d love to read firsthand perspectives!)

[everypronoun]

First Person Neopronouns / Fpn / 1stp Flag Design

Neopronouns refer to (in general) pronouns that are not typically accepted in the language they're used in. Therefore, first person pronouns that don't follow the expected I/me/my/myself convention can count as neopronouns. Because "first person neopronouns" is a mouthful, I proposed "1stp" (or "1stp neos") to refer to these. 

Why would someone use 1stp neos? A lot of different reasons! I'm trying to observe as many 1stp users as I can, and what I've seen so far: 

Plurality (For example there are various mixes of "we"+"us" that seem to date back a few years) 

Neurodivergence (Example: A single person who uses "we/us" or "it/its" as 1stp pronouns for reasons motivated by symptoms, etc - Long before I entered "MOGAI" circles I was friends with a psychotic singlet who sometimes used we/us for themself because of psychosis)

Part of a typing quirk, which in turn may be because of neurodivergence/being a headmate 

Getting gender euphoria from these, these as a part of gender expression

Or for just simple self expression! 

The concept of first person neopronouns probably can seem very strange at first, or maybe pointless, but I personally find this expansion of the English language very interesting and am excited to see where it goes. The English language is constantly expanded by those who use/speak it, and many words and conventions of speech become recognized in "official" contexts each year. For example, here's words added to Merriam-Webster's dictionary in 2021. Basically, I view 1stp neos as just another evolution of language.

I'm attempting to list 1stp pronouns over here on the Wiki! I made a template for (hopefully) easier understanding of how these work in a sentence, so if these sound absolutely daunting try looking at some of those examples. 

Requests for me to coin new 1stp sets or to make flags for them are now open over here, BTW! Or, of course, you can use this template yourself to make your own flags. This flag layout has been added to my pronoun flag Canva template.

A mettric shitton of text about why I chose these design elements and more talk about first person neopronouns is under the cut.

Order of flags above:

Greyed out template PNG for easy editing | I/me/mine/myself It/it/its/itself | Mew/mew/mews/mewself

Flag: The design for 1stp flags is directly based on the “standard pronoun template” I made a while back. My fellow mods in the Ezgender Discord helped a lot as I worked through it. What I decided on was more stripes to help it be slightly different, and then a rule that the symbol in the middle should be tilted and should be the same color as the two stripes in the middle. My reasoning for that is that it blurs the boundaries between the symbol and the stripes and that represents how someone is combining aesthetics and other aspects of their identity into their pronouns when they use 1stp.

Feel free to download that grey PNG and recolor it/edit as needed!

I/me/mine/myself: The symbol is a simple curved line that vaguely represents the shape of a person. The colors are an inversion of the exipronouns flag by @anicrossic​ but edited to mesh better + a bluegray from the cisprominal flag by @/beyond-mogai-pride-flags but edited lighter! This flag is also the only one that has an exception to that rule about the tilted symbol thing. Since this is essentially the “exipronouns” of first person pronouns, its symbol lays flat, it’s “average” and “plain.”

It/its/itself: Since I think a lot of folks who use “it” as a first person pronoun do that because of elements of dehumanization/seeking that aesthetic, I wanted a symbol that was simple but seemed “wild.” Hence, this little spiky zigzag. The flag colors themselves are edited from this third person it/its flag by @libragender​ !

Full-size flags: ✨Grey template ✨ I/me ✨It/its  ✨ Mew/mews  ✨

✨ Text version of DNI ✨ PATREON ✨ KO-FI ✨ COMMS ✨ DEVIANTART ✨ INSTAGRAM ✨

[thechekhov]

Hi! I saw on a post that you're agender and I'm kinda questioning my gender (again) but what interested me more about that post was that you said you believe that gender is a social construct and I'm not really familiar with that theory. I was wondering if you could explain to me what the whole idea is? (bc I kinda only feel like a have a gender in social situations? In my head, my dreams and how I picture myself in the future, I'm genderless idjskahwksjejensj) Sorry for bothering you if I did.

This is a BIG topic and it opens a LOT of wormholes. 

We’re gonna do this in pie slice statements that will hopefully help explain what I mean. Please keep in mind I’m going to simplify many things for the sake of readability.

1) What is a social construct? 

Social constructs are ideas that are negotiated by social groups. Something being a social construct does not make it ‘not real’. 

For example, money is a social construct. Yes, we have cash - coins, credit cards - but these are physical props that are REPRESENTATIVE of the idea of currency. You have some form of credit to your name - the money is a socially agreed-upon idea of value being represented by bills in your hand, by numbers in your bank account. 

[Description: Two humanoid figures are standing side by side. The right-side figure is holding a rock in its hand. 

Right side figure: Let’s agree that this shiny rock is worth 2 sheep.

Left side figure: Sounds fake but ok.]

Technically, countries are also social constructs. We, as a society, negotiate what a country is, and this can be changed.

[Description: Two figures are standing on either side of a dotted line drawn on the ground. The left figure is pointing down at it while the right figure watches, its arms crossed.

Left figure: Let’s pretend that everything on this side of the imaginary line is mine.

Right figure: ...ok but my house is over there.

Left figure: ... for 3 shiny rocks you can come visit.]

Does that mean canada isn’t real? No. (I mean, obviously canada ISN’T real, but we all agree to pretend it is.) The thing that makes it real is that we are in agreement, and all follow the social rules of pretend to make it seem like the Canadian border, the idea of Canadian citizenship, etc... is an objective fact. (It’s not. These are in fact, negotiable limits and parameters. We have laws in place to define it in legal terms, but those laws can be changed, or may change in the minds of communities. That’s why it’s a construct.)

By that same token, I hold the view that gender, as we largely perceive it in modern society, is a construct. Why? Because it is not inherent; we, as a society, negotiate its meaning. 

2) What is gender? 

People will probably fight me on this and that’s fine, but here’s my (simplified) understanding of gender (from someone who personally has none)

Gender is a social category negotiated by cultures based on your assigned or desired role in your community that influences, among many other things, your physical appearance, your role in family units, your expected position in jobs, etc. 

How I think it happened:

[Description: Two figures are standing on either side of the panel, both holding children-looking figures. The one on the left is wearing purple. The one on the right is wearing green.

Green figure: Hey, I’ve got an idea. What if we separate the babies into two groups based on physical traits they have no control over?

Purple figure: Wh-- okay...?

Green figure: And then limit the jobs they can do and the community ritual involvement available to them based on that!

Purple figure: ... I feel like this is going to backfire on us someday.

Green figure: Nah, it’ll be fine.

The past panel is a dramatic closeup on the purple figure’s face - which is featureless - betraying a deeply doubtful emotion. It says nothing.]

Important points to remember: what gender looks like, what the limits are, what the expectations are... are not inherent to any human biology. We make up gender roles. This is evident in the fact that across the world, gender roles differ by culture. The positions people of a certain gender are allowed to take up are different. What is perceived to be ‘girly’ or ‘boyish’ is different across cultures. 

Simply speaking - currently the (western) model we have, dumbed down, is:

You are assigned male at birth because of physical characteristics

You are raised being told to ‘toughen up’ and ‘boys don’t cry’ and encouraged not to show emotions

You are taught to wear male-coded clothes and discouraged from female-coded fashion choices

You are given more opportunities to participate in sports, encouraged to engage in physical activity, etc

You are not expected to need time off for child-rearing 

Here’s where gender as it works in society breaks down into being not a real thing but instead something we thought up: 

Nothing about having a penis necessitates wearing pants. Nothing about having XY chromosomes means you need to keep your hair short. Nothing about your genome makes the experience of nail-polish different for any human being. 

All of these are arbitrary traits we decided were allowed or not allowed to a specific group of people based on entirely unrelated physiology. 

Even if we delve deeper, there is MORE variation among individuals of the same ‘sex’ than there are, on average, of members of the ‘opposite sex’ when compared to each other. 

Many people use the excuse ‘women are physically not as strong as men’ to say that this has an evolutionary aspect driving these cultural, historical, socially-constructed gender requirements. 

But if there was a physical reasoning behind the culturally-set gender-limited job expectations, then we actually WOULDN’T need a traditional binary gender system to sort ourselves into categories. It would simply be decided as a meritocracy - stronger individuals, regardless of gender, would be given physically-demanding jobs. (Also we know that many jobs thought to be ‘traditionally male’ are just the result of sexist bullshit, so this reasoning doesn’t fly any further than I can throw it which is, coincidentally, not very far. Politics is one such area. Doctors are another. We can go on but I think you get my drift.)

My own example of this is an anecdote when my grandparents came to visit my partner and I in Japan. While we were driving down to Tokyo, my grandmother - who has a PhD in entomology - began to say that driving is a masculine activity and women shouldn’t be driving as it was ‘un-woman-like’. My partner almost immediately fired back that in Japan, studying insects or having any interest in them whatsoever was considered a heavily masculine-coded activity. In Russia, there is no such assignment, and my grandmother was left silently blinking in confusion, unable to come up with any excuse except ‘well, all cultures are different, I suppose...’

Do either of these things inherently have a gendered aspect? Of course not! But we assign gendered ideals to them anyway.

3) If gender is made up and constructed by society, then does that mean trans people aren’t real?

No.

Even if you agree that gender is a social construct, trans people are still real. TERFs don’t get a pass. Why? 

Because gender - as a social construct - still affects our everyday lives, dictates our social position in our community. Transitioning is still a thing that has to happen. The fact that you are NOT easily able to decide your own gender and are ostracized for wanting to transition, abused for dressing the way you want to be perceived, and bullied for wanting people to refer to you with different pronouns - all those are the effects of a social construct that has very REAL impact on our lives.

This is also why I dislike defining trans-ness by dysphoria. Because transgender people are not only their suffering - the suffering is coming from the outside!! Many trans people remember not being concerned about their gender identity in their childhood, because they did not yet perceive the world as being hostile to their desire to fulfil a specific role in society. The issues and self-hatred and dysphoria begins when they express wanting to be themselves - a life which they are forbidden from pursuing based on physical characteristics they were born with.

Does this mean we should try to remove gender from society? If we constructed it, we can deconstruct it, right?

Realistically, I highly doubt this is possible. Gender is so ingrained in our daily lives that it would be difficult. Nor, I would say, would it be necessary to achieve world peace. 

Having social groups - having gender - isn’t inherently a bad thing. The bad thing is when we limit those social groups to specific basic human rights, like voting, or when we forbid them from transitioning from one to another based on things that are out of their control. 

Also, I’m not saying genitals and secondary sexual characteristics aren’t real. Please don’t bother sending me that angry message, I’ll ignore it, I promise. 

But the concept of gender IS something we thought up and maintain and negotiate with each other to this very day. It’s not granted to us by a higher power, nor is it a constant, unchanging thing. It’s a part of the human experience and like everything, it has the potential to evolve - as a concept in our communal memory, as well as on an individual level, for people who feel they want to be perceived differently. 

Thanks for coming to my TEDtalk!

[page-2-ids]

Page-2's Personagender Pageant

[also known as Synth's Coining Event for normal people]

I know the name is stupid, but there aren't any months or holidays (that I'm aware of) or anything that starts with a p, so this is the best I've got lmao.

I have decided two things:

1. There are not enough Personagenders

2. I would like to do a coining event

I figured it would be a good idea to combine them both, so we have this. For those who don't know, this is the definition for the umbrella term version of Personagender.

Just like a lot of other coining events, every day for a certain month(May, for this one) will have a prompt (under the cut for length) that anyone who wants can coin terms based on.

For this one, it can be more literal or just going off of the vibes- the only thing I ask is that the genders are Personagenders, though it can also fit under other umbrella terms on top of that. Also, to anyone who wants to join, you can skip days, combine terms, do multiple terms for each prompt, whatever, really, just have fun with it!

I'll be doing my best to keep up with the prompts, but I won't make too many promises ;)

I’m posting this now to give everyone time to get ready and also so I don’t forget about it in the drafts. I’ll reblog when it gets closer to time, too.

With all that out of the way, here are the prompts!!

Punk rock(er)

Likable

Prep(py)

Attractive

Old school

Greaser

Musical

Comforting

Lumberjack

Mystical

Vampiric

Hip-hop head

Rebel

Charming

Professional

Famous

Fake

Genuine

Popstar

Skilled

Covert

Partner

Captivating

Enchanting

Urban

Shredder

Creative

Stargazer

Straight edge

Stylish

E-(boy/girl/person/etc)

(these got a little weird, I did this at like three in the morning with no established plan, so I probably should've expected this. Hopefully me being weird will make this more fun for everyone, though)

[honeybeezx]

Armor - Oberyn Martell x Reader x Ellaria Sand - Part 2

Author’s Note: Hey all! Thank you for all the love on the first chapter! This one will have a lot more of our favorite prince and paramour and the reader is such a badass. I’m really having the most fun writing this you guys have no idea😄

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: mentions of murder, mentions of sex

Enjoy, love you all and as always, feedback is welcome!

——————

The brothel smelled of incense and sex. The men who had paid for the services apparently had no reservations about silencing their pleasure, nor the women. You were mildly annoyed by it all. You didn’t care or consider it lowly to work or attend a brothel, but it just seemed so...fake. People pretending that what they were feeling was love or passion when really it was just men finding release, both from sex and from their normal lives, and women getting their coin.

Not that you really knew what actual love was like, but you did know it wasn’t this.

One of the girls brought you to a room near the back. The ornate doors swung open to reveal who you could only assume was the prince and his princess. You weren’t really sure what you expected, but you found yourself shocked. He looked princely, certainly, but you weren’t expecting him to be so...striking. Bronzed skin against golden cloth...he looked like a work of art. And his princess was equally captivating. Her dark locks cascading against her dress seemed to compliment her lover’s own clothes. They both seemed to have a strong demeanor, even while they were allowing themselves to be vulnerable, wrapped in each other’s arms. Both of their heads turned to look at you, brown eyes meeting yours. You wondered how their gaze could even fall upon you when you were presenting them with the finest women the capital could offer.

The women you now know as Ros introduced you by both birth name and the one bestowed upon you through the tales spread throughout Westeros. The prince smirked and narrowed his eyes at you. The woman in his arms might as well have been undressing you with her eyes.

“The Silver Hawk.” He smiled, taking you in. He left his paramour’s side to stand before you. Your guard wasn’t easily lowered by attractive people, but even you had to admit they were both intimidatingly beautiful. The prince’s exposed chest and the heat of the princess’s eyes had your heart beating faster than you cared to let on. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. My brother told me the stories about you and your silver arrows. Is it true that they were enchanted by the gods so that you can never miss?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I trained hard to achieve the level of skill I possess, I assure you.” The stories people told about you these days were becoming more absurd by the day. And you were slightly offended. To just be handed a gift with no hard work, no sense of accomplishment was no gift at all.

“Will we get the chance to see you prove that?” Ellaria asked hopefully as she joined her prince’s side.

“Perhaps.” If the Lannisters or any other of the terrible people in this city continued to annoy you, you didn’t doubt it, but you were not going to put on a show...Even if the Dornish woman did make your heart beat faster in your chest.

“I’ll be looking forward to it.” She smiled with a wink.

You cleared your throat and focused. You were here for a reason after all, and that wasn’t to entertain the guests with your skill. “The hand of the king, Tyrion Lannister apologizes for his absence this evening, but he wanted to offer these ladies as a welcoming gift and hopes you’ll excuse him.”

“A gift indeed.” His eyes raked over you, the woman behind him smirking. “A shame that Tyrion hides such an exquisite woman behind the ugly walls of the Lannister dwelling. You should be out in the sun, letting more people admire your beauty. Too bad...In Dorne, it would be a crime to hide such a rare gem.” It almost seemed like the prince couldn’t hide his desire, even if he wanted to (which he most certainly didn’t). His eyes traveled everywhere, from the tips of your boots to the smallest hair on your head.

You’ve never experienced whiplash before, but you imagined it felt a bit like this. To say you were surprised was an understatement. Not many people could catch you off guard, but not many people were so bold, especially towards you. You could do little to disguise your shock and you took a moment to find your voice. “Prince Oberyn, I am not an option here if that is what you are implying.” You retorted, rather defensively.

“That is not what I am implying, but it is interesting that the thought occurred to you.” He flashed a devilish smile and you wanted nothing more than to punch it off his handsome face.

“That is not what I-“

The prince placed a finger to his lips and you wanted to scream with anger at how easy it was for him to silence you with one simple action. He grinned before backing away, returning to the Dornish woman. “Ellaria Sand, my paramour.”

“It’s a pleasure.” She greeted, her voice dripping with a sultriness that would have made someone with less composure than you blush.

“The pleasure is all mine.” You replied, trying to recover from their boldness. You tried to remain calm, you made a promise to Tyrion that you would make the guests feel welcome. Why he trusted you with this particular task was beyond you.

“Hmm, I doubt it.” Ellaria grinned her eyes still raking over you.

A room full of half-naked women and they settle on me.

Both of them, flirting with the same woman right before their own partners. It intrigued you that they both shared the same lover. Neither of them seemed to care much about the gender of whom they chose to sleep with, only their beauty. They possessed a different type of freedom, one you were unfamiliar with. Your freedom was found when you were hunting, climbing trees, the rare times you found yourself near an ocean. For them, it was shameless passion and love, taking pleasure anywhere they could get it unapologetically. Life was theirs to enjoy, nothing could take that from them.

Which is why you found the fact that they were singling in on your armor-clad body so shocking. You couldn’t comprehend how anything you were wearing could draw their attention in a lustful sort of way.

“You should reconsider, by the way. We are very generous lovers. What a privilege it would be to say we made love to the stunning Silver Hawk of the North.” Oberyn raised a brow at you as he took a berry between his teeth, tongue swiping against the tips of his teeth, making a show of himself before actually eating it.

You cursed your skin for becoming so hot.

“Let me make myself clear Prince Oberyn.” You began, finding some strength to your voice again as you remembered your place, your. “I am not a whore. These women here, they are your options. What you decide to do with them is your business, but I am a guard to the king’s hand and I demand to be treated as such. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must return to the palace.” You turned on your heel to leave, impossible without the prince having the last word.

“One more thing.” His voice stopped you in your tracks. You turned just enough to face him.

“When was the last time you experienced pleasure?”

All you could see was red.

“The first time I shot an arrow through an arrogant man’s chest.” Before you could stop your words they were already hung in the air. You were prepared for the prince to draw the dagger you noticed hanging at his hip, but he made no such move, his hands still around his paramour.

And he smiled.

“I look forward to seeing you again, Silver Hawk.”

“If I see the Red Viper again it will be too soon.”

You stormed out of the brothel, drawing looks from all those around you, but you didn’t care. They both got to you, in more ways than one. How did they break you down so easily? Not even the queen regent possessed such power.

And you prayed to the gods old and new that neither of them would tell Tyrion. You knew it was a false hope, but the last thing you needed was Tyrion scolding you and even worse, letting people know they could both get to you. Your whole life you let your rage burn quietly in your chest, letting it fuel you rather than consume you. But their smirks, their roaming eyes, their words made you feel something you hadn’t in a very long time.

And you threatened him, the Red Viper of Dorne. It wasn’t as if his reputation and stories escaped your ears. He was skilled with every weapon you could think of. To top it off, if he didn’t wish to kill you with a weapon, he was an expert in poisons as well. It was a relief that he wasn’t staying in the palace now, you’d have to find somewhere else to eat and drink every night just to avoid death.

King’s Landing was becoming its special sort of war zone. This was the game of Kings and Queens, Prince and Princesses, none of which you were. It was as if you had been dealt a hand that everyone knew you were going to lose. The Lannisters and the Martells, amazed you how two completely different families could be toying with you, a pawn in this royal game.

Oberyn and Ellaria were just the most skilled players.

As if you needed more people in King’s Landing to worry about.

—————————

“I like her.” Ellaria laughed, still in the arms of her lover. The couple had chosen their girls for the night but sent them waiting for a moment as they discussed you. “You were right, she’s stunning lover. And she has a bite, not many people would challenge you, a prince and a fearsome warrior. I fear we may have scared her off though.” Her smile faltered a bit at the idea of losing their next lover. She wanted you, and there was only so much time before they would be separated by their return to Dorne.

“She is a wild one. Not many women like her. I’m not sure I know many soldiers with her reputation and skill, whether they be man or woman.” He noted as he tucked a strand of his paramour’s hair behind her ear. “I did not expect her to be so offended by us. I don’t think she is as familiar with the pleasures of the bed as we are. We may have to...coax her.” He suggested, scanning Ellaria’s dark eyes, as if he were attempting to read her thoughts.

“She is a strong woman, in every sense of the word. That it itself is something rare, and she knows that. I suspect she thinks we are mocking her, somehow undermining her.” Ellaria noted, recalling your behavior. “She thinks we want to pay for her services, thinks she’s just another girl for us. You may have chosen the wrong moment to be so bold, my love.” Ellaria tried putting herself in your shoes, but it was difficult. Many people knew the legends of the silver hawk, the assassin who never misses, but fewer knew the origin of your tale, how a young woman came to possess the skill of men twice her age, maybe even better than that. But she imagined if she worked as hard as you said you did, only for a man, a prince, to single you out among brothel girls, as if you were one yourself, she could understand your anger.

“Think about it my love,” she began, “you did not exactly explain to her what we were proposing. You cannot blame her for assuming we saw her as another one of Little Finger’s girls.” Ellaria chided as she traced featherlight touches against her lover’s exposed chest.

“A gentler approach may do us good. You are anything but withholding when it comes to who you desire, and at least now she knows. But you may want to start winning her favor with some sort of peace offering.” She ran her hands through Oberyn’s dark curls as he looked at her like a man in the desert looked at water. The Sand woman knew her lover like she knew her own heart, and she knew she was not the only woman who had turned him on this evening. “Go to King’s Landing tomorrow and find her. Don’t apologize for wanting her, never that, but offer our friendship. That may be a good place to start?” She asked, wanting to know what her lover thought.

Oberyn gave a hum of approval before taking his lover’s hand and kissing her palm. “You are the wisest of women.” His hand moved her own so that her palm was now resting on his cheek, his soft, brown eyes still raking over his paramour. “I will go tomorrow to offer our friendship and make peace. I have a feeling that even if we remain friends with her, she will be a powerful and useful ally. She could be just the person we’re looking for to get me information on my sister’s murder.”

The prince’s face turned somber. Ellaria closed her eyes and placed a kiss to his exposed chest. “Do not forget that she works for a Lannister, lover. She may not be so willing.”

But Oberyn shook his head. “No. When I went to the palace the Hawk had her sights on Cersei the entire time. I thought she was going to pierce her with an arrow right in the throne room. She makes an exception for Tyrion, but otherwise, I suspect she has a distaste for Lannisters as much as we do. She may be at least willing to listen to my proposal.”

Ellaria sighed and ran her hand down the prince’s toned arms. “Perhaps, but I don’t want her slipping through our fingers. I want justice for your beloved sister, but I want her too. She is a strong woman, capable of defending herself, but she should not be put in harm's way.”

Oberyn nodded, but he could not shake the deep-rooted desire for vengeance. Every time he saw a Lannister all he could think of was his enchanting sister and her sweet children, and the unfair fate they were given. “I will simply speak to her and offer friendship tomorrow. Her spying was just a thought.” He added, keeping his calm. “We have to earn her trust first and foremost, a task that I’m sure will prove difficult all on its own.”

“Neither of us have been known to back down from a challenge.” She laughed before kissing his collarbone.

“We will just have to convince her of our desires.”

———————

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Tag List

@ilikechocolatemilkh

[titsuya]

HI BAE gender preference for this one is male and hq

my name is kay, i'm sexy (they/them pronouns) #18yo barely legal blonde with big ass! not clickbait!! i am an ARIES YAY ♈️♈️ birthday is april 18th

i'm an infp-t (who was surprised by that) but i have trouble getting along with people because like im annoying and they get tired of me

anyway my love language is gifts and quality time- my ideal date would honestly just be like a late night trip to 7/11, getting snacks then eating them in the parking lot LMAO (or just like any time with that person) my favorite color is yellow! it reminds me of like spring and SUN DRESS SEASON YEAH BABY

hobbies yay!!! i play softball (jfc it takes up 70% of my free time) volleyball and i just sleep a lot ngl

this probably isn't needed but honestly my type just big men LMAO

UH YEAH DM ME IF YOU NEED ANY OTHER INFO BABY I LOVE YOUUU

KAYYYY MY SEXY BABY hello thank u for participating mwahhhh i hope u like ur matchup

I MATCH YOU WITH

BOKUTO KOUTAROU

duh you guys are like #1 himbo/bimbo couple— im joking. but no, you guys are the spontaneous couple everyone wants. so sweet, barley any fights and if you guys do fight, its over something stupid like what to get for dinner. you both are a joy to be around and everyone loves you dearly. also bokuto never gets tired of you <33 (neither do i im in love with you)

YOUR TROPE: best friends to lovers

you met awhile ago and have always liked each other but never really told each other because you were both afraid of rejection/ ruining your amazing relationship. there was never a dull moment in your friendship. you guys are the most fun people to exist and you both know it, too. the way you got together was fucking adorable, too. it was a late night at his place and you were watching a scary movie and he’s like, “h-hey…” and you’re like, “…hi?” and he’s like “you know this movie is really scary,,, we should kiss during the scary parts…” and you smile and just start making out with him. then he kinda just admits he’s basically been in love with you since god knows when and now ur like 👯💑💞

YOUR SONG: talk too much — coin

THIS IS YOUR SONG I LITERALLY DONT HAVE AN EXPLANATION BUT ITS JUST…. SO KOUKAY (ur ship name im giving u) or KAYKOU or BOKAY haha (b)okay sorry

i literally just cant explain it but yeah this is your song

moodboard !!!

DRABBLE hopefully u like thissss

“baby baby baby!” bokuto exclaims, shaking your body vigorously. “ice cream or twinkies?” he asks, holding both items in his hands next to his face.

you hum, “usually, i’d say both, but i don’t think you need anymore sugar this late at night… but i still say both, cause who cares, right?”

he laughs, “you’re right, thanks babe,” 

you two skip around the store and end up with more food than you expected, but bokuto says, “don’t worry, if you can’t finish it, you know i will,” all with a triumphant smile etched onto his face. 

you just laugh and nod, “i have no doubt that you can finish all this by yourself,”

once you pay for all the snacks, you go back to the car and let the soft music play as you two talk about the most random things with your mouths full. 

“i wonder how often we do this,” bokuto ponders aloud, but it’s all muffled with the twinkie stuffed in his mouth. 

you shrug, in your reclined seat, staring at the roof of the car with a small smile, “i don’t know, but i’m glad i’m here with you,”

he beams at your words, leaning over to pepper kisses all over your face and you giggle trying to push him away, “kou, you’re getting twinkie cream all over me, stooop!”

“never,”

[i-am-totally-a-human-being]

hey hey! im sorry you’re not feeling the best right now but is it ok if i request shuichi and his s/o going on a carnival date maybe? OOH and maybe his s/o plays a ton of the games to win shuichi the prizes? aah thank you in advance! i hope your taking good care of yourself >.<

Me likey! I’ll gladly do this request!

Good news guys, I’m feeling much much better. Things are looking up and hopefully won’t go downhill for a very very long time. Thank you all so much!

Carnival date with Shuichi Saihara

Summary: the request, I did a fem!reader for this cause I’m a girl and felt like writing a bit more close to home if that’s ok, if you really want gender neutral then I can reupload it with changed pronouns

Triggers: none I think

Writing style and genre: fluffy oneshot!

Y/N= your name

N/N= nickname

F/C= favorite color

You know the drill, it’s under the cut!

“Hey, Shu! You can come on in I’m just finishing up a bit!” You picked up your phone as you ran around your room, trying to gather the last few things you needed before going on your date with your boyfriend.

“Alright, Y/N. Is your door unlocked?”

“Yes but you also have a key, dork.”

“Right. Sorry. Be right in!” You hung up and chucked your phone onto you bed once more as you rushed around, hoping to be ready by the time he entered your room.

“Come on... come on.... where did I put-“

“Your bag in handing on your door.”

“WHAT THE- oh,” you breathed, covering your heart, “dang it Shuichi... you scared me!”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he laughed, grabbing you bag and walking over to you, “I didn’t mean to.”

“Well yeah I figured,” you smiled and took it from him, wrapping it around you, “how on earth do you manage to move around so quietly?”

“Dunno, I just do I guess. You ready to go? You look great, by the way.” He looked you up and down, admiring your pastel F/C dress and how it perfectly fit you.

“Aww, thanks! Give me just one second,” you ran to you bed and grabbed your phone, shoving it into your bag and slipping on your shoes, “ok! Let’s go!”

He nodded and led you out to his car, opening the passenger seat for you before getting into the drivers. Shuichi started the car and pulled into the road, heading to the local carnival that was in your city for a few weeks.

He wasn’t a fan of traveling carnivals, mainly because the rides seemed super sketchy. But you begged and begged to go with him, and he couldn’t say no to his girlfriend, so he caved bought you day pass tickets. He was excited, because he always loved dates with you, he just wasn’t too excited for the rides you no doubt would ask to go on with him.

As long as it didn’t go upside down, he’d be fine.

When you finally got to the carnival he gave the front desk the tickets, and you both got wristbands that said you could go on any ride as many times as you wanted, since that came with the tickets he bought.

“Shu, come on!! I wanna go ride rides first!!” You eagerly pulled him towards the first coaster you saw, as he expected you’d do. What he didn’t expect was that the first ride had two loops, one right after the other.

“Y-Y/N... I don’t like going upside down.... it makes me sick, remember?” He felt bad reminding you because of how excited you looked, but he knew he wouldn’t last on that ride and he didn’t want to ruin the date right off the bat.

“Oh, I’m not making you ride it, silly! I want you to try and get a picture of me upside down!!”

“Oh... I can do that, y-yeah!!” He took your bag (and your glasses if you wear them so they wouldn’t fall off on the ride) and watched you get into the line. When he saw your ride going around, he did his best to take the picture to get it upside down. It’s up to you to decide if it was good or not.

“Did you have fun?” He asked as you came back and handed you your bag(once again and glasses if you have them).

“Yeah! It’s a shame you get sick, I would have seriously enjoyed doing it with you! But the girl I had to sit with was super nice and we talked a lot in the line so it’s fine!”

You avoided rides that went upside down after that, really wanting to go with him on most of the ones you did. Shuichi was never a fan of roller coasters, but he was a fan of seeing your excited face every time the ride had a drop.

Eventually you both got tired from the rides, walking around and looking at the other festivities. While Shuichi was buying you both caramel apples, you noticed a claw machine.

It was an infamous game that stole your money, yes, but you had money on you and the prizes in there were so. Cute. Especially one, that really caught your eye.

A big detective pikachu plush.

One look at it and you knew you HAD to get it for your boyfriend. He was a detective in training, after all.

Since it wasn’t too far away from where Shuichi was getting you snacks, you decided it would be safe to go without telling him where. He’d see you after looking around for a second.

You got to the machine and pulled out your wallet. One use of the claw was 50 cents(I’m sorry if you don’t live in America you can translate how much 50 cents is in your currency), and you had $10. You went to a coin machine nearby and traded in your dollar bills for coins. You had 20 chances to get the pikachu, and you were determined.

As expected, the game was extremely hard and definitely probably rigged. But you had your mind set on that plushie and you wouldn’t stop until you got it.

While you didn’t get the pikachu right away, you got a LOT of other prizes. The line Shuichi was in was decently long, so it wasn’t a surprise that it took him a little bit to get back to you. Luckily for you, because you wanted to surprise him.

You got the pikachu on your 19th try, a sigh of relief washing over you. You were left with only 50 cents, a detective pikachu plush, a small rubber duck that was dressed like a clown, a small bag of bubblegum balls, a Paw Patrol lunch box that you were totally giving him as a joke, and a foam pair of dice you’d probably give to Kokichi. You shoved the smaller items into your bag, triumphantly carrying the decently sized pikachu to your boyfriend who had just finished buying your treats. He gave you a questioning look, jumping as you held it out to him.

“Um... N/N? Where’d you get that?”

“In the claw machine!”

“The claw machine? You actually got something out of it?”

“I got a lot of things, this is just the thing that I actually wanted!”

“You wanted a detective pikachu plush...?”

“Yes!! For you!” You dragged him to a bench to sit down, taking the apples from him and giving him the plush in return.

“Wait, you got this for me,” he paused, looking at you with a deadpan expression, “this is because I’m a detective, isn’t it.”

“.....maybe.... but I also got you these!!” You handed him the other prizes from your bag, making him blush.

“Y-Y/N! You didn’t have to-“

“I wanted to! This is also for you because I know you forget to eat at work sometimes.” You handed him the children’s lunch box with a childish grin on your face, making him frown.

“I hate you.”

“No, you love me.”

“....yeah, I do...”

He was slightly embarrassed, having to carry around a pikachu plush everywhere after that, but he did enjoy it. After he dropped you off back home and kissed you goodbye, he went to his own home and set up the plush on his bed.

Placing the rubber duck beside his computer, he popped one of the gums into his mouth and looked at the lunchbox one more time. It was ridiculous. An item for children. But you gave it to him. Albeit, as a joke, but you still gave it to him. And he treasured anything you gave him.

He picked up the duck and set the lunchbox in its place, now setting the duck on top of that. Maybe he’d keep the lunchbox around a bit. To remind him of the amazing date you both had had that night.

I hope I did good, Anon! Luv u bb

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk,

—🐝

[that-bi-bitch-writes]

The Rumor Around Hogwarts (Ch.3)

Chapter Three: Hello Stranger

Male reader insert for now, future addition of they pronouns as it will lean more towards a non-binary insert with the only change being less reference to Y/N as a young boy and more gender neutral terms. Still masc/male aligned. 

No real warnings for now except canonical mentions of neglect

This chapter is a little over 1.5k words. A lot of it comes directly from the book but if you want to skim/skip that part there is a huge space and a line where it starts and ends.

Not really proofread but I hope you Enjoy!!

To say [Name] was excited to go to Diagon Alley would be the understatement of the century. Somehow he had found out exactly when the majority of new wizards would be buying new supplies for their first years. Of course, with his mom being who she was, he’d missed it, but something deep within told him today was the day he needed to be there. 

‘The universe and mom conspiring. Plausible’ he thought aloud

“Mom! Hurry up or I’m taking your purse with me to Diagon Alley. All by myself.”

“I’m coming, Haven’t I apologized enough? You’ll get there when you need to be.” she said as she entered the kitchen. She grabbed a piece of toast from the house elf, grabbed her purse and approached him waiting near the front door. With a smirk she started “besides, it’s all part of the universe’s grand plans, isn’t that right darling?” 

Though [Name] loved his mom she sure could be a little shit. It’s why she was the perfect “master” for his house elf. Apparently the elf belonged to his father’s family and he refused to be let go. Believe me M/N tried many many times. But every time anyone mentioned freedom he would go berserk and the sight was unbearable to watch, so they’d just decided to keep him for the time being. [Name]’s mother set a rule though, if the elf were to stay he could not refuse help with any of the chores and could not punish himself. 

Compromise was one of the hardest things for everyone in the house. ‘My way or the highway’ was an unspoken family motto. And though he was a mean and stubborn houself, he was a part of the family. But that doesn’t mean he had to be nice to him

“Goodbye midget” [Name] yelled over his shoulder, earning a scowl and some mutterings

“Why do you do that” his mom asked casually “it’s not that different from his actual name, so why not just call him by his real name”

“Because he hates it” [Name] responded “and why am I getting a lecture from you. The queen of passive aggressiveness towards him. You forget I can hear what you’re really thinking when you talk in that saccharine sweet voice of yours. Save it for someone who can’t read minds”

She huffed and nudged him to the car. “I can't wait until you start driving. Or apparating, whichever you choose first. As much as I love doing some things the muggle way, I’ll never get used to traffic.”

[Name] picked up some dirt and tossed it to the ground with a loud and clear “Diagon Alley” before getting in the passenger's seat. M/N laughed at him and poked his side before starting the car. 

“I can’t believe my baby is starting Hogwarts.” She sighed out. And turned on the radio before pulling out of the massive driveway.

The journey to Diagon Alley was not very exciting for [Name] but for Harry it was a life changing experience.

____________________________________________________________

Harry woke early the next morning. Although he could tell it was daylight, he kept his eyes shut tight. 

“It was a dream” he told himself firmly “I dreamed a giant called Hagrid came to tell me I was going to a school for wizards. When I open my eyes I’ll be at home in my cupboard.”

There was suddenly a tapping noise. And there’s Aunt Petunia knocking on the door. Harry thought, his heart sinking. But he still didn’t open his eyes. It had been such a good dream. 

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“All right,”Harry mumbled “I’m getting up”

He sat up and Hagrid’s heavy coat fell off him. The hut was full of sunlight, the storm was over, Hagrid himself was asleep on the collapsed sofa, and there was an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak.

Harry scrambled to his feet, so happy he felt as though a large balloon was swelling inside him. He went straight to the window and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who didn’t wake up. The owl then fluttered onto the floor and began to attack Hagrid’s coat.

“Don’t do that.”

Harry tried to wave the owl out of the way, but it snapped it’s beak fiercely at him and carried on savaging the coat.

“Hagrid!” said Harry loudly “There’s an owl-”

“Pay him,” Hagrid into the sofa.

Harry counted out five little bronze coins, and the owl held his leg so Harry could put the money into a small leather pouch tied to it. Then he flew off through the open window.

Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up and stretched. “Best be off, Harry, lots ter do today, gotta get up ter London and buy all yer stuff for school.”

Harry was turning over the wizard coins and looking at them.He had just thought of something that made him feel as though the happy balloon inside him had got a puncture.

“Um - Hagrid?”

Mm?” said Hagrid who was pulling on his huge boots.

“I haven’t got any money - and you heard Uncle Vernon last night … he won’t pay for me to go and learn magic”

“Don’t worry about that,” said hagrid, standing up and scratching his head. “D’yeh think yer parents didn’t leave yeh anything?”

“But if their house was destroyed-”

“They didn’t keep their gold in the house, boy! Nah, first stop fer us is Gringotts. Wizards’ bank. Have a sausage, they’re not bad cold- an’ I wouldn’t say no teh a bit o’ yer birthday cake either”

____________________________________________________________

A boat and train ride later, Harry and Hagrid had arrived in London and made it to the Leaky Cauldron, where Harry was recognized by everyone in the pub. Including a stuttering Professor Quirrell who introduced himself as Harry’s Defense Against the Dark Arts (DADA for short) professor in the upcoming term.

Gringotts was the next stop and it was a particularly interesting event for Harry. The boy who had grown up on scraps from the Dursleys and hand me down clothing was shocked to see so much money in his name. The goblins were obviously a new experience. Then there was Hagrid’s secret mission from Dumbledore.

After parting with Hagrid, Harry had entered Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions alone and nervous. The situation was not remedied by a pale faced blond in the back of the shop who spoke pompously and reminded Harry of Dudley. His casual mentioning of wizarding culture left Harry feeling stupid. When the pale boy had begun talking bad about Hagrid, Harry knew he wouldn’t like the boy and could offer nothing particularly interesting to the conversation.

A lot of questions and shopping later, Harry had to get his wand. Truth be told, this was the part that Harry had been anticipating the most. Entering the shop which read Ollivatders: Makers of Fine wands since 382 B.C, Harry began to be a little overwhelmed and swallowed any questions he might’ve had.

The man seemed to know whom he was and asked Harry a series of questions to find the perfect wand for him. There were a lot of trials and errors, swishes and flicks, and damage done to Ollivander’s shop. Until finally the right wand was found. And it was a little… curious.

“It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother- why, its brother gave you that scar.”

“Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember. … I think we must expect great things from you, Mr Potter. … After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things - terrible, ye but great”

“And you’ll get them.” All eyes snapped towards the unexpected voice “the great things.” 

“I believe you’re right Mr [Last Name].”

Somehow in all the chaos, neither Ollivander nor Harry had noticed [Name] was in the shop the whole time. He’d already gotten his wand but when he recognized the boy from the zoo he wanted to catch up.

Noticing Harry’s uncomfortability with the subject of Voldemort, [Name] had started up a totally different conversation while escorting Harry out of the shop.

“Fancy meeting you here. I guess the universe was actually looking out for me. I’m [Full Name] by the way. Nice to meet you Harry Potter”

“Nice to finally put a name to your face. I’m not sure what you meant by the universe but I’m glad we got to meet again. I had no clue you were a wizard”

“... Are you like new to the wizarding world or something? I mean I’ve been raised going to muggle schools but even I would’ve figured out the boy who didn’t react to me doing magic was a wizard”

“It was unintentional”

“Still magic”

It was getting darker and both [Name] and Harry had to go soon. Harry was still a little glum from the conversation with Ollivander, but [Name]’s playful banter had brightened his mood. Harry needed more people like that. Like [Name] and Hagrid, who just saw him as Harry Potter, and not as the boy who lived. 

“Will I see at Hogwarts [name]?” Harry asked hopefully

“You bet. Find me on the train. Or rather, I’ll find you. Then maybe I’ll show you something cool I can do.” 

Now Harry had two things to look forward to. Hogwarts, and Hogwarts with [Name].

[aspiring-ginger]

Of All the Stars in the Sky (Jaskier x Reader)

Request:  Yay! So happy your requests are open! I love your wriring. Can you please do something with Jaskier? Maybe reader has been trained with a sword most their life and travels with Geralt and Jaskier. He could write a song about the reader (very original haha) or reader gets hurt and Jaskier worries for them. I don’t know, thank you ♡

Summary: Geralt & the gang are on their way to Vizima when some trouble brews outside of the city gates. Suspicions rise when the reader doesn’t show up to the New Narakort Inn as planned.

Warnings: Strong language, violence. Nothing unusual for the Witcher.

Word count: 5,808

Pairing(s): Jaskier x reader

A/N: Here ya go, anon! I got carried away and couldn’t choose one of the two options, so I just did both. Almost 6k haha. Reader’s gender wasn’t mentioned so I did my best to keep it gender neutral. I took some inspiration from The Witcher 1, as well as the Carnal Sins questline from The Witcher 3. Also thanks to my best friend for helping me write this (she doesn’t have a tumblr or I’d tag), thanks bb!! Some of you wanted to be added to my taglist so I’m going to do it by fandom, character, and series. Please specify which you want to be tagged in or else you’re getting everything lol. So anyone who commented on Forget-Me-Not chap 1 is going to be just for that series, unless you said otherwise. Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy this one! As always requests, comments, and feedback is always appreciated. Happy Valentine’s Day!!

Taglist: @dandelionwitcher​ @thunderdog8​

Masterlist

There was a simple comfort found on the open road. Surrounded by nature untainted by man, nothing but earth and sky around you. Everything raw and untamed just as nature intended.

It was here out in the open where you found yourself currently, head resting on your bunched up cloak propped up on a log, angled up at the sky. Geralt and Jaskier were around somewhere, each tending to his own business. Geralt had been holed up in his tent, most likely replenishing his stock of potions and elixirs after your last hunt.

Geralt had learned quickly that any and all alchemy was to be done privately in his room or tent, away from Jaskier’s prying eyes. You had only been travelling with the odd pair for a few weeks at that point, still unsure of the limits and boundaries you had with the two. You had been sitting with them close to the small campfire Geralt had set up. It was a warm night, the boys both shedding their outer layers and rolling their sleeves to get as much air as possible. You were intrigued by the witcher’s alchemy as you had never seen anything quite like it before. Sure, you’d seen your share of healers’ work but this was something else entirely. Apparently neither had Jaskier, as he was avidly asking questions and inching closer by the minute. It wasn’t long before Jaskier’s relentless inquiries turned to bickering, and whatever unfinished concoction Geralt had been making was spilled. The ground sizzled when splashed, as did the boys’ exposed skin. While you pitied them both for the chemical burns, the rest of the week had been pretty entertaining. Stock full of pouting and theatrics.

You snickered at the memory as you stared up at the night sky. Jaskier’s childish actions that week had really brought the three of you together, and solidified your part in the rag-tag team. You had come to the rescue when ambushed by bandits later in the week. Geralt was unable to defend both himself and the bard given his current injuries, and you had swooped in at the last second deflecting a blade aimed at Jaskier’s throat. After that moment you had decided to stick with the boys for good.

“What are you laughing at? Something funny in the sky?” Jaskier teased, propping himself up against the log next to you.

You hadn’t heard him approach, jumping slightly at his words. He had been washing up at the nearby creek and you weren’t expecting him to be back so soon. The fresh smell of his soap- a mixture of sandalwood, sage, and a sweet fruit, cherry maybe?, hit your nose as he nudged your shoulder with his and laughed.

“No, just remembering something funny,” You smiled.

“Oh? Would you care to share? Geralt’s ‘locked’ himself in his tent so I could use a bit of a pick me up.” He teased, stretching his arms behind his head to mimic your position.

You jokingly hummed in thought, “Remember that time with Geralt’s potions and you managed to burn right through your shirt? What, a year ago now? You demanded extra special care for your 'terrible wounds’ that whole week! I swear I thought Geralt was going to tear your head off.”

“In my defense, that had been one of my favorite shirts from home, which was absolutely flattering by the way, and they really were terrible wounds! I seem to recall you coming to my rescue- my knight in shining armor with her noble steed,” He giggled and dramatically draped a hand over his forehead.

“I’m sure Blueberry just loved carrying your spoiled arse around,” You snorted.

Jaskier scoffed, “Blueberry and I have become great friends since then. She adores me!”

You heard your mare snort as if in response, and the two of you dissolved into a fit of giggles and laughter. You wiped a stray tear from your eye and sighed. You turned your head to look at the bard

“We’re finally headed back to Vizima tomorrow. Are you excited for a real bath and a soft bed?”

“How could I not? One can only travel on the road for so long before needing a well earned refresher. Even the witcher has his limits,” You hummed in agreement. “Besides! I’ll be debuting my newest song. This one will be a hit, I’m sure of it! Even better than the last!”

“Really? Even better than Toss a Coin?” You raised a brow in mock surprise.

“Let’s just say that I have a better inspiration this time around,” He turned to face you as well, throwing a wink in your direction.

You let out a nervous laugh and prayed to Melitele that the darkness around you hid the blush that dusted your cheeks. You cleared your throat and pointed up at the sky, hoping to change the topic.

“Do you ever get lost in the beauty of the stars? We see them every night, yet each time I look up they almost take my breath away. I get dizzy just looking at them all.”

Jaskier let out a low chuckle, “Wonderfully spoken, (y/n). Mind if I use that in a song?”

You rolled your eyes “I’m being serious! I just don’t understand how something so beautiful just goes unnoticed by so many.”

You heard Jaskier hum next to you and you glanced over to see his reaction. His face and body was turned to face you, a small smile gracing his cheeks. Firelight flickered in his bright blue eyes and you were overwhelmed with the scent of him again. Seconds ticked by as you were pulled in by his gaze. You could’ve sworn you saw his eyes dart down to your lips. His face was so close to yours, you just wanted to reach out and brush his still damp hair out of his eyes, pulling his face close so you could-

You awkwardly cleared your throat, sliding yourself away from him before you could do anything foolish you would regret.

“I um, I-I’ll see you in the morning, Jaskier. Goodnight.” You scooped up your cloak and scurried over to your bedroll. Seeing as how you only had two tents between the three of you and you quite enjoyed the weather this time of year, you offered Geralt and Jaskier a tent each. You cursed yourself and you turned away in your blankets, trying to ignore the bard across the camp.

Jaskier sighed and called his goodnights out to you and Geralt as well. He glanced up at the stars with a wistful smile. It would only be one more day, maybe two, before he could finally follow through with his plan. He had connections with the New Narakort Inn where he arranged your group’s stay in the city. Hopefully by then he would have the lyrics finished and ready to perform. His previous attempts at flirting had failed to get your attention, so as a final resort he devised his whole plan to perform his new song to you, as a confession. 

He climbed into his tent, pulling out his notebook and scratching out a few words with a sigh. He made a note to mention your love for the stars, and you technically didn’t say no to his request to quote you earlier. He pulled out his lute and rehearsed the melody of the song, mumbling possible lyrics under his breath. You smiled as you rolled over, Jaskier’s calming chords lulling you to sleep.

You woke as the first rays of sunlight began to peek through the trees above. A light fog had settled in around you, refracting the light around you. It was quite pretty, actually. You sat up and stretched your arms out, then ran a hand down your face when you faltered. Looking down in confusion, you saw an extra blanket pooled in your lap. One sniff and you identified it as Jaskier’s. Since when did he wake up early? You supposed it had gotten a little chilly during the night, but it was spring after all. You wanted to enjoy your time outdoors before the heat would put you in a sour mood.

You sent a nervous glance at the two tents opposite you, pausing to listen if the occupants had woken up yet. Satisfied when you heard silence you pulled Jaskier’s blanket up to your chest and took a deep breath. You couldn’t hide your smile at his sweet gesture and a quiet giggle escaped your lips. You laid back down all giddy, burying your face into his blanket. It wasn’t long before you drifted back to sleep.

Jaskier emerged from his tent later that morning. Geralt had already started packing his things away, giving him a nod in acknowledgement. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out an apple and tossed it at the bard. Jaskier caught it, buffing it against his shirt before taking a bite. He wiped juice off his chin as he walked up to the witcher. Geralt raised an eyebrow at him with an amused smirk. 

“What, is there something on my face? Bad bedhead or something?” Jaskier tutted, placing one hand on his hip.

“Really, Jaskier?” Geralt responded not bothering to elaborate, but inclined his head in your direction.

“Wha-?” He faltered, “What are you talking about, Geralt? It’s too early to decipher your broody minimalism,” He swallowed thickly, fidgeting the apple in his hands.

“Thought your spoiled arse would be cold sleeping without a blanket.” Geralt shrugged, hiding a smirk. He left the bard sputtering to come up with an excuse.

Taking Geralt’s cue that he was done with the conversation for now Jaskier took another bite and sighed. He forgot about the witcher’s heightened senses and would have to be subtler in the future. He was pretty sure Geralt already took him for a fool, but he’d prefer not to fan the flames any more. His head shot up realizing that you could’ve heard their conversation, wincing at his carelessness. His shoulders slumped back down when he saw your still sleeping form. Seems like Geralt didn’t wake you on purpose. Ha ha, very funny.

He quietly padded up to you, careful not to make any sudden movements. You had his blanket snuggled right up against your face, a small smile gracing your features. Jaskier couldn’t help but grin as he felt his heart squeeze at the sight. He gently shook your shoulder and called out your name.

“Wakey wakey, sleeping beauty! We’ve got quite a day ahead of us. Up and at 'em!” You squinted your eyes at Jaskier for disturbing your sleep. He laughed at your pouting and strolled away to pack his things.

You stared forward for a few moments waiting for your brain to fully wake up. Your eyes shot open wide- you still had that damn blanket pulled right up to you- and you quickly shoved it off. You winced and hoped you didn’t look too silly in your sleep. You packed your belongings as well. You certainly didn’t feel like a sleeping beauty as you smoothed your rumpled hair back down.

When you had everything stuffed back into your saddlebags and pack, you went to greet Blueberry with her morning pets. It seemed Jaskier already beat you to it- he was feeding her the remnants of his apple and running his hand through her mane. He muttered praise under his breath as he untangled knots with his fingers. You swallowed and paused to gather your thoughts before coming any closer. If he kept this up any longer you just knew you wouldn’t be able to concentrate with his hands around your waist for gods know how many hours until you arrived in Vizima. 

You slung the bags around Blueberry’s back and gave her a gentle pat, giving Jaskier a curt smile. 

“I don’t feel all that great, so you can go ahead and take the reins today,” At least that way you would be able to hide your face if you were embarrassed. “And that way I’ll have better access to my sword. You know, in case monsters or bandits or something,” You justified. You didn’t know who you were trying to convince more- you or him.

You turned on your heels and briskly walked back to your spot. You felt ashamed that you let yourself get carried away with your thoughts. Stupid girlish thoughts. You sighed as you strapped on your light armor. You were a fool to hope Jaskier was anything more than a friend. You double checked your sword- inspecting the blade before sheathing it at your hip. You restrung your shortbow and slung it over your shoulder, and secured your small quiver at your hip. Bandits often patrolled the roads close to the city. Geralt would hear anyone coming way before you, but you wanted to be prepared.

The ride in was mostly uneventful, you spent most of your time dodging Jaskier’s lute case every time he whipped his head back to say something to you. You hadn’t been fast enough the first time, and he and Geralt would not let it go, relentlessly teasing you for being bested by a damn lute. At first it was funny and you laughed along with them, but after the 8th or so close call it got old fast.

You parted ways with Geralt and Jaskier at the city gates, following your usual routine. You would check the outskirts for work for either Geralt or yourself. You often took on hunting jobs or other contracts that didn’t directly involve monsters, since that was obviously Geralt’s area of expertise. Geralt would check notice boards within the city while Jaskier would secure room and board at the best inn he could find that would let him perform. He would take care of Roach and Blueberry and by the time he was done, you and Geralt would return and discuss your findings. Dividing and conquering was your best strategy to ensure you made the most coin you possibly could. 

As you slid off of Blueberry’s back, Jaskier informed you to meet at the New Narakort Inn. It was unusual for him to be so prepared, but you shrugged it off as perks of being a bard/entertainer. It didn’t take long to find a notice board in the outskirts. Most of the papers posted were generic notices to the public- “be wary of the merchant with the red hair, don’t give yer money to a witch!” Or complaints of missing livestock- completely useless. There were two promising notes, however. One claiming that Old Farmer Ned’s goats were being slaughtered by terrible beasts. You pocketed that one for Geralt. The other asked for a good amount of venison for some nearby butcher. You tore that one off for yourself.

As you perused the board in front of you, you paid no mind to the villagers milling about. You did begin to take notice as a commotion started to your left. 3 burly men dressed in matching rags and similar tattoos surrounded a young elven girl with their weapons drawn. She clutched a covered basket close to her chest and sobbed. One man held up his blade while the other gestured for the woman to hand the goods over. You couldn’t exactly make out what they were saying, but you guessed the elven woman was begging to let her go. An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach as you glanced around to see if anyone else around noticed what was happening. You frowned in disappointment. Men and women rushed past with heads down ignoring the scene, some even cheering on the men and calling out racial slurs. The first man had stepped even closer to the poor girl, his sword held against her neck as the other men jeered. You sighed and rolled your shoulders back. There was no way you could let this happen, not when you could do something about it.

In the blink of an eye your sword collided with the first man’s, pushing it away from the woman. You held an arm out to her and gestured for her to get behind you.

“You know, you shouldn’t take things that don’t belong to you. Apologize to the woman and walk away,” You threatened with a snarl. The girl ran behind you and clutched your sleeve in fear.

The other two men laughed and pointed their swords at you, the first one just rolled his eyes, “And what are you going to do about it, elf lover? You gonna stand up for this nonhuman filth? We deserve that basket. It should be ours. And once we take it, we’ll get to have our way with her. You want that too, you little shit?” He sneered.

You spat at their feet and swung your sword to disarm the man, kicking him in the groin. He crumpled to the ground as the other two stepped forward, swords swinging. You dodged one and parried the other. They circled around you into a flank position. The second man lunged at you. You stepped back and grabbed him, using his momentum to send him crashing into his buddy. The first man stood up and began to reach for his sword. You turned, smacking the butt of your hilt against the back of his head as he bent over. He collapsed back to the ground with a thud. 

The third goon shoved the second off with a grunt and came charging at you, empty handed. His fist smacked right into your chest knocking the air out of your lungs. You hunched over and gasped. The goon saw this as an opening and raised his leg to kick your face in. Your eyes trained on the ground saw his leg lift up, and you took this opportunity to sweep his legs out from under him. He fell to the ground and clawed at your leg. The other man came at you with his sword. Your blades clashed as you shook your leg in an attempt to get rid of the fool at your feet. With a strong kick of your leg, you forced your foot into the man’s face. You heard a sickening crunch and he screamed in pain. With your foot now free, you turned your attention back to the last man standing. You parried blow after blow, the man relentlessly swinging at you. He was quite sloppy, and you quickly found an opening to disarm him as well. You held your blade against his neck, drawing a bit of blood. The man trembled and raised his hands in the air in defeat. 

You spat in his face and shoved him to the ground, “You and your friends can go and fuck right off. Next time you think twice about who you’re robbing.” You drove one more kick into his stomach for good measure. 

The man scrambled to gather the other two thugs and their weapons before scampering off. They called out slurs and insults as they left but you paid them no mind. You bent over to pick up a jar that had fallen out of the woman’s basket. She had just been carrying groceries home. 

You turned around and offered the jar to her with a smile. She stared at you with wide eyes before thanking you profusely. She pulled you into a hug with a sob, choking something out about the kindness of some humans. You awkwardly patted her on the back and placed the jar back into her basket. She started to take out her coin purse insisting on payment but you just held up your hand and shook your head. There was no possible way you could ever take her coin. All you had done was step in to help a woman in need. Just doing what was right. You told the woman this and she responded with another sob. She shook your hand and hurried away with a wave.

You sheathed your sword with a sigh. The villagers avoided your gaze and went out of their way to give you a wide berth. At this point you just desperately wanted a bath, good food and drink, and some quality time spent with your friends. You went and picked up the notice you dropped by the board before you stepped in to help. All you had to do was speak to the butcher to negotiate pay and the amount of meat needed. Then you could finally head into town.

The sun was setting by the time that you made your way past the city gates into the Temple Quarter. It had taken much more time to track down and speak with the butcher, and you hoped that you had enough time for a quick soak before Jaskier’s performance. Even though you’ve heard him play countless times before, you couldn’t miss even a single performance. Seeing him lute in hand playing for so many people was simply put, a breathtaking experience. He was in his element, oozing confidence and charm as he circled the room singing his heart out. Faces in the crowd smiled and cheered along with his songs, clapping and raising their mugs in approval. Every time he would glance back at whatever table you and Geralt had chosen, your heart felt as if it was about to burst. He always looked you in the eye and winked before turning back to the crowd and each time the butterflies in your stomach went crazy. He was so happy and pure and every time without fail, he took that moment to acknowledge you. 

Even just thinking about him made your cheeks flush as you walked through the slums of the city. It was only a few more blocks until the Trade Quarter, where the New Narakort was located. You smiled as you saw the torches of guards posted at the gate over the top of the hill. You were so lost in your thoughts as you approached, that you failed to notice the shadow lurking in an alleyway nearby. It darted out as you walked by and grabbed you. A hand was clamped over your mouth before you could cry out and you were dragged back into the alley. The hand released you and you whipped your head around to identify your attacker. A strong blow to your face left you spitting up blood with a groan.

“Serves you right for helping out that disgusting nonhuman, you piece of filth!” You recognized the voice as one of the thugs from earlier.

You opened your mouth to respond, but instead a strong kick to your core knocked the words right out of you. You took blow after blow, spitting up blood when you got the chance. There were at least the same 3 men from before, but you were so disoriented you couldn’t even tell. They paused every so often to let you catch your breath and try to fight back before kicking you down to the ground again. Kick after kick after kick you struggled on the ground. There was a sharp pain in your right thigh as, what you guessed could only be, a dagger drove straight into your poor leg. You screamed out in agony and suffered another blow to the head. Each attack seemed to be growing in power as you clawed at the ground to try and escape. A sob escaped your lips as you felt the slash of another blade across your back. The men around you cheered and laughed, all taking part of the fun.

“You don’t mess with us, you elf loving whore!” The main attacker cried. With a laugh his final blow to your head had you seeing stars, and the world faded to black.

When you came to, you were alone. the moon was already high in the sky, and you couldn’t make anything out in the alley around you. You groaned in pain as you tried to sit up to assess your wounds. The dagger that was plunged deep into your thigh was still there, stopping most of the bleeding. That was good, but every time you even shifted, you cried out in pain. You had to take it out but you didn’t have any of your supplies on you, you left it all packed on Blueberry. The cut on your back scabbed up, but you probably opened it back up by moving around. Your whole face felt swollen, and you tasted blood. You were sure you looked like absolute shit.

You struggled to stand. Leaning heavily against the wall, you spat out more blood. You shuffled against the brick wall, hands clawing any groove you could grab just to pull yourself forward. You manage a couple of steps before you collapse down the ground. Fuck. You didn’t know how far you could go in the state. You let out a frustrated sob. Would Geralt and Jaskier be able to find you in time? Did they even notice you were gone? Your thoughts were racing as you heaved yourself up once more. You banged your leg against the wall and yelped- your vision going fuzzy for a moment. If you could at least drag yourself out of the alley, maybe there was a chance a guard would find you?

You heard footsteps approach and winced- were those thugs coming back for more? You looked up and saw a silhouette of a man.

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help.” You heard a soothing voice call out. You groaned and shifted against the bricks. “I saw what you did earlier, outside of town. You helped one of my kind. I wish to repay this kindness.” He stepped closer and slipped an arm around you, holding you up so your weight wasn’t on your injured leg. 

“Please, save your energy and don’t speak. My name is Palmar, I’m a trained healer. I’ll take you back to my house to patch you up. Do you live here?” You shook your head, “Are you here alone?” You shook your head, “We can send word to your companions once we get you safe. Is that alright?” You nodded. You then lurched forward, Palmar holding you up.

The journey to Palmar’s small house went by in a blur, the pain in your leg too strong to focus on anything else. When you arrived, he laid you down on a cot in the main room. It was small with only a fireplace, a table, your cot, and a hallway visible. Once you were propped up with pillows, Palmar lit the fireplace and several candles throughout the room to provide light. You finally got a good look at your savior. He was tall and scrawny, dressed in a simple shirt and pants. He looked young, maybe 30 years you guessed. The top of his auburn hair was pulled into a bun while the rest hung down to his shoulder. He caught your gaze and smiled, warm brown eyes filled with warmth.

“I assure you, I have treated many wounds like this. You are in good hands. I told you my name, but I’m afraid I didn’t catch yours,” He strode around the room, gathering various vials and bandages.

“(Y/n). I travelled here with a witcher and a bard- Geralt of Rivia and Jaskier. I was supposed to meet them at the New Narakort.” Your voice was raspy and strained.

“The New Narakort? A fine establishment. I’ve heard their stew is to die for,” He smiled again, undoing the straps of your armor and weapons. “I’m afraid this is going to hurt. Like a bitch,” He chuckled “I’m going to pull the knife out on the count of three, alright? Ready? One, two-” you braced yourself for the pain, crying out as he yanked the dagger out early. Palmar quickly cleaned out the wound. With the knife gone, he helped you strip down to your smalls. He cleaned and dressed the rest of your wounds, muttering words of encouragement as he went. As the pain finally began to lessen, you felt your eyelids droop with exhaustion. Palmar let out a small chuckle.

“It’s alright, my friend. You can rest. I will go fetch your friends while you sleep.” You furrowed your brow at him, not understanding why he was being so kind.

“I don’t understand, why are you helping me?” You forced your eyes open. You didn’t want to fall asleep without knowing the answer. Palmar helped you back into your shirt and lay comfortably on the cot.

“As I said before, I saw what you did for that poor woman outside of town. You stood up to those humans. No other human would’ve stepped in like you did. I am grateful. I was walking home when I saw those awful humans leave the alley and my gut told me to check it before I continued home- and I found you.” You sighed, happy with his answer for now. You couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer so you snuggled closer to the blankets. As Palmar stood to leave he whispered, “My daughter was killed by that very same gang. The one you stood up against. This was the very least I could do to help.” You slipped into a dreamless sleep.

You felt a clammy hand grab yours, and another shake you awake. You opened your eyes to a bright blue pair looking down at you in worry. Jaskier. 

“Oh, thank the gods. Geralt, they’re awake! Oh (y/n), you have no idea how worried I was for you! We waited at the inn and when it got dark and you still hadn’t shown, well Geralt said not to worry, but I just knew something wasn’t right! You’ve never missed any of my performances. I couldn’t let you break your streak, so I waited for you. And waited, and waited. Then this lovely man showed up and- gods! I’m just glad you’re alright,” Jaskier rambled, squeezing your hand tighter and tighter with each word.

“Jaskier, I’m okay.” You squeezed his hand back with a smile. 

“Blueberry is waiting outside. We’ll take you back to the inn.” Geralt said as he gathered your things and carried them outside.

Jaskier said something to Palmar in Elder as he helped you out of bed, which he responded in kind. You made a mental note to ask Jaskier about it later. They exchanged a few more words, and soon they had you out of the door and on Blueberry’s back. Palmar shook your hand one last smile and thanks before you were on your way. Geralt lead Blueberry by the reins while Jaskier walked beside you, his hand coming up to nervously rub you calf. On your uninjured side, of course. 

Your friends slowly lead you through the streets of Vizima, right to the New Narakort. Jaskier helped you inside and to your room while Geralt took care of Blueberry. Jaskier fussed over you, helping you wash your hair and settling you into bed, fluffing every pillow in the process. He bid you goodnight with a squeeze of your hand and blew out the candles, but he hesitated at the door. 

“Jaskier? What’s wrong?” You asked, voice laced with worry.

“You could’ve died. They left you in that alley to die and I could have lost you,” Jaskier choked out.

“Julian. It’s alright. I’m alright. I’m safe now. Don’t worry.” He snapped his head up when you called out his real name.

“(Y/n), I always worry. Every time you go out with Geralt on a hunt, or when you pick up odd jobs around towns. I worry. I’m always going to worry about you, because you’re my friend. Actually- hang on a minute. I’ll be just a moment!” He rushed out the room in a flash. Your heart ached at his words. You’re my friend. Just a friend. A bittersweet smile escaped your lips. It was obvious just how much the bard cared for you, but it still wasn’t enough. You sighed, swallowing back tears and waited for him to come back.

Jaskier was true to his word- he was only gone for two minutes at most. He burst back into the room, out of breath with his lute in hand.

“(Y/n), the reason I couldn’t have you miss my performance is because of my new song. Remember? I’ve finally finished it, and I couldn’t have you miss it, because…” he faltered, hands wringing nervously, “I wrote it for you.” You looked at him in surprise as he held the lute up and began to play. The melody was beautiful. It was somewhat familiar as you had tried to eavesdrop whenever you could in camp, but you had never heard the words before. He sang about a fierce warrior with (h/c) hair shining in the sun as they defeated their foes, their bravery and kindness unmatched. The beauty of their laugh and smile was enough to turn the heads of everyone as they walked into the room. Their love of the stars in the night sky, 'each time I look at them, they take my breath away’. He was quoting you, in a song he wrote for you. No, wrote about you. He wrote this song about you. Tears sprang up in your eyes as you came to this realization. Jaskier’s fingers slipped as he saw your reaction.

“I-it’s horrible isn’t it. I figured. I should’ve waited a bit longer- practiced it more.” He groaned, running his hand down his face. “(Y/n), I’m sorry. Obviously I need to work on this one a bit more but.. you have to understand that you almost died. I wrote this song and you almost died. I had to play it for you before I would lose the chance because… because (y/n). I love you.” His piercing blue eyes were filled with hope as he looked into yours.

“Julian- I love it. It’s beautiful and I love the song and I love you too,” your words were all rushed together- you couldn’t get them out fast enough.

Jaskier launched himself at you, careful of your wounds, and embraced you tight. You breathed in his familiar scent. 

“So since you love me back, does that mean I get to kiss you?” He asked with a smirk, legs straddling your own.

“Oh come here, you,” you laughed. Your hands grasped the sides of his face and pulled him close. You could feel his hot breath against your lips as he hesitated, before he pressed his lips against yours. Your eyelids fluttered shut in content. If this is what it took to finally be with your favorite bard, you’d do it a hundred times over. Now you could finally call Jaskier your own.

[orange-waterfalls]

I'm Havin' Feelings Fer Ye

Captain Magnum x gender neutral!reader

@lovefor-xreaders ty for the prompt!

A/N: Guess who has no life and wrote an entire 2,000 word fanfic all in one day? THIS ASSHOLE! im so fucking bored guys, please, this is all I have. Send prompts. Uh... Rated T for cursing and violence. I think mostly angst, fluff at the end.

Word Count: 2.3k

--

You danced around the ship with some of the other crewmates to shanties the captain sang. You found treasure! You actually found treasure! You had honestly expected to die at some point… but you didn't! And you found treasure! That was wonderful! You were starting to think the heist wasn't such a bad idea! Even though Mark's… gone… you'd be alright! You had treasure! You'd be alright…

Captain Magnum watched you as you danced around, a smile present on your face. It made him feel all weird inside… he'd lived long enough to know what love feels like… probably. This was not it… he didn't think… he honestly didn't know. But when he watched you spin and kick your feet and laugh… he felt real happy…

You danced for a while before you eventually got tired and sat down, panting. The captain and the crew were messing with the treasure. Picking it up and letting it fall back into the chest, examining it, biting it…

These people were weird…

You held out your hands for your share of the treasure, since you were being patient. He looked to you and set a small coin in your hand, curling your fingers and patting them. You squinted at him, wondering if he's actually serious. He seemed to be, since he headed to his quarters immediately after. You frowned, looking at the coin. You'd talk to him about that later…

Captain Magnum felt a bit bad about only giving you a coin. What else was he supposed to do? You might've left if he gave you more treasure! He couldn't have that! Then again… that seemed a bit manipulative… eh, you'd be fine. He sat down in his chair and thought about you.

You were an enigma to him.

He'd felt this way before… but it was so… prominent this time… why was he so fond of you? It's not like you were special! You just had beautiful skin and sparkly eyes and the most stunning smile he'd ever seen and...

Goddamnit, he was in love…

He sighed, wondering what he was going to do about this, when he heard a sharp knock at his door. He jumped a bit, not expecting anybody since it was pretty late. He stood up and walked over, opening the door. You were standing there with your arms crossed. He was going to greet you, but you looked pissed. He wondered why. Then, you held up the coin.

"Are you kidding?" You asked accusingly. "I'm your first mate, you trust me enough to choose where we go, and you give me this bullshit?" You started walking towards him. Despite the height difference, he felt a bit intimidated by you. He stepped back.

"Listen, I be th' cap'n. I already told ye, me share be more fair than others," he stated. You glared at him and he felt his stomach drop. "Ye knew wha' ye were gettin' into, ye can nah be angry," he crossed his arms. You sighed.

"Fine. Whatever," you mumbled as you left the cabin. He opened his mouth to apologize, but nothing came out. He closed his mouth again. You were already gone anyway. Nothing he could do about it now. He'd get some sleep and you'd be fine in the morning.

--

It had been a few days since you found the treasure. You weren't talking to Magnum. He kept glancing at you as you were swabbing the deck. Your smile was replaced with a frown. It was less of an angry frown and more of a sad frown, but it made him feel just as bad. He waited a while to talk to you because he didn't want to mess it up. He eventually decided that it was a good enough time to do so, and he walked over to you.

"Mornin', first mate! How did ye sleep?" He asked. You paused for a moment, but you didn't answer. "Uh... 'twas a bit windy last night, huh? Glad we got all th' loot inside..." you still didn't look up, but your frown got tighter. He patted his hands on his legs and sucked in a breath. "Wonderful weather we be havin'?" You finally stopped mopping and turn to him.

"What do you want?" You asked, exasperated. He frowned.

"Are ye okay? Ye seem upset…" he commented.

"Oh, no yeah I'm totally fine!" You scoffed. "My best friend's dead, the guy who killed him won't even bother giving me any sort of compensation, I may never see my family or friends again, but sure I'm fine." You stated, mopping vigorously. Magnum sighed and looked at your face. You looked like you were on the verge of tears. He opened and closed his mouth, trying to find the right words.

"I... I be sorry. I'll give ye more treasure if... If ye promise ye won't weigh anchor…" he finally managed. You stopped and turned to him slowly. His eyes widened. "No, no, no! Ye... I didn'... um…" he gulped as you raised an eyebrow at him.

"Uh-huh. Go on. I'm waiting." You demanded. He took a deep breath.

"I... I find ye endearin'... 'n I wants ye t' stay... wit' me... specifically." He said. Your face softened a bit, to his joy. He smiled.

"I… have people back home." You said. His smile fell. "I can't just… leave and… not tell them anything…"

"Then tell 'em! Write 'em a letter or somethin'! That would be fine!" He said desperately.

"What am I supposed to say? "Hey, guys! I eloped with a 7 foot tall pirate and am now sailing the seven seas as his first mate"?"

"...yes?" He said, unsure. You sighed and looked down. He held his breath, waiting for whatever you were going to say next.

"What am I supposed to tell his family?" You asked softly. He took a deep breath.

"I... I dunno. 'n... I be mighty, mighty sorry about wha' I did t' yer friend... But... I... I be... I reckon I be in love wit' ye…" he said shakily. You looked up at him, your eyes widened. You could see a tint of red on his suntanned cheeks. He avoided your eyes for a bit before you chuckled. He looked at you. You smiled at him warmly. He returned it.

"I…" you began, blushing. You were cut off by the sound of a cannon.

"Avast! Prepare to be boarded!" A voice boomed from above.

"Oh, God, not again," you whined. Magnum reached out to put a hand on your shoulder, but another cannonball whizzed past you two, making you fall in different directions.

"Ye hide. I'll take care o' this," he instructed. He unsheathed his sword as you hid behind a nearby barrel, watching him to see if he'd need any assistance.

"Who be thar? Show yourself, yellow-bellied cur!" He yelled. You blinked, processing what he said. "Yellow-bellied cur". Huh. That was new. You heard wood creaking behind you and ducked further behind the barrel. You slowly rose and saw a man standing in from of Magnum. He was taller than you and had an average build, and was wearing a pirate outfit. His clothes looked… cleaner and more fancy than Magnum's. He was holding a sword and had a peg leg.

"Who are ye callin' a yellow-bellied cur?" He said in a low, rough voice.

"Obviously you, shitlord!" You said, quickly covering your mouth with your hand afterwards. The man turned and looked at you. He raised an eyebrow, smirking. You suddenly felt… violated.

"Well, well, well. Wha' 'ave we here?" He chuckled. "I may jus' keep ye fer meself." You laid your hand on a revolver.

Magnum tightened his fist around the hilt of his sword and swung. The man blocked it and stumbled back.

"Ye lay a hand on them, ye're dead." He growled. The man smirked and tried to jab at his side. Magnum managed to block it in time. The two captains went on sword fighting for a couple minutes while you stayed behind the barrell. The other man's crew was on the ship fighting the rest of yours. You felt a bit useless, so you grabbed the revolver and aimed towards the other pirates. You grazed two in their legs, and nailed one in the shoulder. You lost track of Captain Magnum after a while. While you looked for him, you heard something land behind you. You yelped and spun around, seeing the invading captain.

"Ahoy thar, darlin'," he smirked at you. You held the revolver up to aim at him. He scoffed. "C'mon, darlin'. Thar's no needs fer that. I won't hurt ye… Much."

"Go fuck yourself," you snarled.

"Such naughty language fer such a sweet thin'." He laughed. "I'll 'ave fun wit' ye."

"Oh, yeah, that doesn't sound creepy at all. Great," You sighed. He took a step towards you and you cock the gun. "Don't move, asshole." You warned.

"Oh, come on now." He chuckled. "We both know ye're too soft t' shoot me. So, why don't ye-" You shoot. The bullet hits him in the side. His eyes widened as he stared at you in disbelief.

"Something about me, captain," you set the gun down and walked over to him as he fell to the floor. "My best friend is dead. I'm feeling a bit pissed. And I have shot a man before." You got on one knee and leaned down next to his ear. "I'm not as soft as I look." You stood back up and walked back to the middle of the deck.

Captain Magnum was frantically walking around. The crew looked okay, so you sighed. The captain heard and spun towards you. He smiled widely as he ran over and enveloped you in a hug.

"Oh, thank Poseidon. Ye're okay. If I had lost ye I... I... I dunno wha' I'd do!" He stammered, petting your head. "Ye're okay, right?" You smiled and hugged him back.

"I'm alright, Captain," You whispered. He sighed and held you for a while before the previous first mate cleared his throat.

"'tis real touchin' 'n all, but we should prolly repair th' ship." He suggested. Magnum turned to him, glaring.

"Ye interrupted a bondin' moment t' tell me that?" He glowered. You bit your lip to keep from laughing. The crewmate opened his mouth to respond, but almost immediately closed it and started picking up pieces of wood. The other crewmates followed suit.

"We should help them," you declared. Magnum looked at you, his eyebrows knitted together.

"But do we 'ave t'?" He asked hopefully. You smiled and pulled away from him. Despite wearing a couple layers, he could feel the absence of your warmth. He sighed and helped clean up.

--

It took a while, but you all managed to clean up the deck. You'd probably need to buy more wood to repair the boat, but you figured it'd be fine. It was dark now and everyone had retired to their quarters. Except for you. You sat on the deck, staring up at the stars. Magnum left his quarters to check on you. He got worried when he saw you weren't asleep. He walked over to you, ruining the mood a bit with how loud he was. He dropped next to you with a loud creak of the floor. You didn't look at him.

"Ahoy," he greeted.

"Hi," you responded bluntly. You both sat there for a moment while he came up with things to say.

"Are ye okay?"

"Yep."

"Okay. That be good." Silence. "Wha' are ye doin'?"

"Just… stargazing."

"Okay. Why?"

"Felt like it."

"Oh." More silence. "Are ye thinkin' about 'im?"

"Yes."

"Do ye want t' talk about 'im?"

"No. Not tonight. Maybe another time."

"Ok... 'tis a tad cold tonight."

"Yeah. I guess so."

"Me cabin be th' warmest... If ye... Wanted t' sleep in thar... Wit' me... That would be alright…" You whipped you head towards him surprised. He noticed your panic. "Or not! That be fine too! I understand. Sorry fer botherin'. Goodnight!" He started to stand up, but you took his hand. He looked at your interlocked hands, flushed, then back at you.

"That would… that'd be fine." You said shakily. "I just… want to stay out here a bit longer."

"Ok," He nodded and plopped back down. You retracted your hand and tucked your knees to your chest, looking back up. He continued to look at you for a second, smiling, before looking back up. You chuckled.

"He loved space…"

--

Captain Magnum could listen to you talk for hours. You start talking about stars, then about Mark, then you get to talking about your other friends and family. He listened to everything you said because he knew it was important to you. You started to yawn after 45 minutes and you leaned on his arm. He froze in place, not wanting to bother you. Eventually, he looked down at you to see if you were asleep. Once he confirmed you were, he effortlessly lifted you up and carried you to his cabin. He gently set you on the large, warm bed. He wasn't planning on getting on it with you. You weren't there yet. You hadn't even told him you loved him back. He couldn't in good conscience get into a bed with you. He sat in his chair and looked at you. You were so…

"Gorgeous," he said under his breath. You cracked an eye open.

"Right back at you," you slurred. He blushed. You held out your arms. "Come into bed," he blushed deeper.

"No, I don't reckon I should…" He tried to say. You whined and he just couldn't. He stood up and carefully climbed into the bed with you, making sure to keep a bit of space between you two. That was pointless because you immediately turned over and snuggled into his chest. He gently moved his arms to embrace you tightly. He set a small kiss to your head and just lied there, wanting to treasure this moment.

Your eyes closed again as you heard him say "I love you". You smiled.

"I love you, too."

If I didn't say it before SEND PROMPTS

[reddeadmort]

This a different kind of request but how about Arthur & kid reader where he saves a kid from the streets and becomes a father figure like Dutch/Hosea did for him and they’re really good at picking pockets/running scams with Hosea & co but Arthur goes really overprotective Dad on them when they ask to go robbing a coach or something

Okay, so this ended up being a lot longer than I intended 🤦. I’m a sucker for a good backstory/establishing motivations, and kinda got caught up in that. Ending lines unashamedly nicked from the mission where Kieran saves Arthur’s ass 😂.

Arthur Morgan x Teen Reader | You’ve got to pick a pocket or two to get to Tahiti

Guidance: Some swearing, gender-neutral reader, father/child type relationship.

Words: 3.1k

As you stood behind the Valentine saloon, leaning against a shed while you watched the other kids squabble over a game of Horseshoes, you thought that maybe this life wasn’t so bad. You had been made an orphan by dysentery two years ago, at the age of 13; you’d initially gone to live with your uncle in Saint-Denis, but the near-daily beatings had forced you to seek refuge elsewhere after only a few months. 

Unsurprisingly for a large city, you weren’t the only kid with nowhere to go, and you quickly had found a small gang willing to look after you and teach you the ropes. You had to pay your way of course, but once you learned how to pick pockets and use lockpicks it was easy.  You worked hard at these skills, and were proud of how good you were, though you were pretty sure your parents wouldn’t have been. 

For the last year or so, life had been pretty good. You always found a roof to sleep under, and didn’t go hungry too often; while the future didn’t exactly look bright, the present wasn’t a complete mess. You were happy, until you’d been told by the leader to steal from the wrong carriage. You’d hopped on to the back, unseen, and made short work of the lockbox. You’d been expecting some bags of jewellery, nice small things you could easily hide away and split between the others kids – 10 kids selling a ring or two at a few different places looks far less suspicious than one kid with a whole bag. Instead, you’d found a pile of documents. 

Flicking through, trying to see if there was any money in any of the envelopes, you had finally paused, concentrating hard as you tried to read one of the letters in your hand. You weren’t too sure what it said, but you could just about read the signature at the bottom; it was from the Mayor’s office. When you had read the recipient’s name, your heart had dropped. Angelo Bronte. Mr Bronte had made it clear he didn’t appreciate any of your lot even looking at him and his men, let alone rooting around in his stuff; you still hadn’t found all the pieces of the last kid that tried to swipe something from his pocket at that party.

You had quickly stuffed the letters back in the box, readying yourself to jump off, as the carriage had quickly turned into the grounds of a large house. One of the guards had seen you almost immediately and grabbed you before you even had a chance to attempt to escape. Angelo himself had gotten a good look at you as he stepped down from the carriage, and instructed the guard to take you to the kitchens. You hadn’t stuck around to find out if he meant to feed you or make you alligator food. You’d bitten the guard holding you hard, then run around the back of the house, slipping through the railings. You’d hidden in the first carriage leaving the city that you could find, and had stayed there until Rhodes. From there, you’d hitched a lift where you could, with or without the driver’s permission. And so you’d ended up in Valentine.  

This little bunch of kids you’d found here were nice; a bit younger than you, which made you the responsible one of the group. This made you uncomfortable, but you’d done your best. You were living in an abandoned shack just beyond the edge of town; you’d have happily camped out under the stars out here when you could, but these kids were softer than you. They all knew each other, runaways from some home in a place called Blackwater. They hadn’t been out here long; you’d tried your best to teach them how to survive, but they were too young to really understand the trouble they were nor be any good at stealing.

Your daydreaming was interrupted by shouts and swearing, and you saw one of the kids sprinting down the alleyway towards you, clutching a large satchel.

“(Y/N), look what I got! Isn’t it great!” The kid held the satchel up to you as you looked up to see what you assumed to be the owner run into the alley. He was huge; tall, built like a brick shithouse. And he was pissed.

“Come here you little bastard!” It was more of a growl than a yell, and he started to run towards you. There was no way you were going to be able to outrun this man, and with the two pistols, knives and rope hanging from his gun belt you knew that wasn’t much point even trying. But you sure as hell weren’t going to let this young kid take the beating that was coming either. Snatching the satchel, you yelled at the others to run as you stood your ground. They scattered, all going in completely different directions; at least they’d learnt something from you, you thought.

You stared directly into the eyes of the man, as his run slowed to a jog and he came to a stop in front of you.

“Give me the satchel, kid.” His voice was low and he muttered through gritted teeth.  “And tell me where the lad that took it went. Me an’ him need to have a little…..discussion.”

“This satchel Sir? I took this satchel from you, I do apologise. I was under the mistaken belief that it belonged to my good friend.” You may struggle to read, but you’d learned a few things from being around all those posh nobs in Saint-Denis. You held out the satchel, and the man took it back carefully. You’d expected him to snatch it; to grab you, to yell at you. Instead, he was staring down at you, frowning slightly.

“It weren’t you kid. And I ain’t about to discipline someone who ain’t done nothin’. Where is he.”

“Who, sir? I don’t see anyone but us here.” You gulped slightly as you said this, realising how true it was; this man could kill you, and no-one would probably even notice. But as you stared back into those blue-green eyes, something told you he wouldn’t.

The man in front of you sighed as he swung his satchel back over his head.

“Kid, how old are you? What’s your name?”

“I’m old enough to know not to give that information out, sir.” You regretted this as soon as you said it, you didn’t want to rile him further. You were relieved when he laughed.

“Fair enough kid, fair enough” he chuckled. “Well, I’m Arthur Morgan. When was the last time you ate? I’d happily buy you some food. You’re a good kid, and you don’t deserve to starve.”

You desperately wanted to take him up on his offer. Valentine was a small town, not many people to pickpocket; and, if you were honest, you were scared of doing so, everyone seemed to be armed. You’d managed to get hold of some scraps from one of the kind ladies in the saloon but had given them to the other kids. But your brain was screaming at you to get the hell out of this situation.

“Nah, I’m good, thanks mister.” The man you now knew as Arthur continued to stare at you, like he was looking for something; then he tucked his hand into his pocket and threw you a few coins.

“Suit yourself. Be careful, kid” he said as he turned and walked away. You watched him as he left; you certainly didn’t think that was how this situation was going to end when you’d seen Arthur thundering towards you.  

The first thing you did was run to the general store and buy as many canned goods you could carry. You’d have to hide them from the others, ration them, but hopefully it would tide you over and take some of the pressure off. As you left, the shop owner closed and locked the door behind you for the evening.

It wasn’t a long walk back to the shack you shared, but you walked slowly, admiring the stars above you. Life might be harder out here, but it sure was a nice place to be. Your contentment was shattered when you heard screaming and crying from the shack ahead of you. Ducking behind a rock, you looked out only to see the younger kids being bundled into a carriage with the words “Saint Christopher’s Orphanage” on the side. There was nothing you could do, there were at least 4 men with the carriage and what looked like a nun inside. Orphanages could be horrible places, you knew the stories, but you knew these kids were too young to survive on their own yet. Maybe in a few years.

Sighing, you picked up your bag, slipped away from the commotion and headed back into Valentine. You were close when it started raining; at first, it was refreshing; that day had been hot. But it wasn’t long before you were soaked to the bone and shivering. As you reached the edge of Valentine, you tried the doors of a few sheds and outhouses only to find them locked. You headed for one place you knew would be dry, warm, and had a broken backdoor – the stables. You quietly slipped in the back, seen only by a couple of horses; they gave a soft whinny and snorted as you crept past into an empty stall. It was a risky place to sleep, but no-one should be in again until the morning, and you’d be long gone by then.

It didn’t take long for you to start to doze off – if life on the streets had given you one thing, it was the ability to fall asleep quickly in the strangest places. You’d only been there, nestled in the warmth of the hay, for half an hour when suddenly you were awoken by an extremely angry, red-faced, pot belly man screaming in your face.

“What do you think you’re doing in here?! You planning on robbing me eh? Sleeping here so you can wake up in the middle of nights and steal my hard earned money?! I should kill you, you little rat!” 

He grabbed you by the front of your shirt, lifting you off the ground, and threw you to the floor again. You scrambled to your feet and were going to try and grab for your bag until you saw the barrels of a shotgun levelled at your face. You didn’t even bother trying to reason with the man; he was drunk, you could smell it, and obviously a lunatic. You launched yourself at the front stable doors, praying they were open. They were, and you stumbled as you slammed through them, just as the spray of a shot hit the wall next to you. You landed face first in the mud, and tried to get to your feet, slipping, as a kick bowled you over onto your back.

“You’re going to die you little thief!” 

The man was barely able to stand as he pointed the gun at your head, but he was so close it wouldn’t matter. You heard footsteps behind you, thumping, running, when suddenly the fat red-faced man was floored with the hardest punch you’d ever seen.

“God dammit.” You heard some muffled swearing above you as the man who’d intervened shook his fist out – that punch must have hurt. Wait, is that….

“Arthur! What the hell you doin’?”

“Just, err, having a discussion with the stable owner about this kid, Lenny.”

“Some discussion Arthur! Come on, we best get out of here, the Sherriff’s already pissed at us after the saloon incident earlier.”

Arthur held out his hand and helped you up. “Kid, I reckon you should come with us. Looks like you need a place to sleep, and one where you won’t wake up with a gun pointed at ya.”

You had no idea what to do. You didn’t know these men, but he had saved you, and he had been kind to you earlier.

“I…thanks Mr Morgan.”

“Come on then, you can ride with me.” Arthur and Lenny turned, walking quickly towards their horses. They turned when they heard your footsteps sprinting off towards the stable.  

“Oh for god’s sake…” Arthur groaned, then sighed and shook his head. He was just about to turn back to his horse when he saw you re-emerge carrying your bag. He smiled as you ran towards him, then hoisted you up behind the saddle.

“Hold on tight kid, me and Lenny been havin’ a few at the saloon so this might not be the smoothest ride. And if I start singing, don’t laugh.” You clung to Arthur’s jacket as you cantered out of town, heading south.

—-

A few months later, and you were settling into gang life well. Your first night had been…. interesting to say the least. Arthur had sat you by the fire, leaving the girls to fuss over you, as he went to talk to Hosea and Dutch. Dutch thought the whole situation was hilarious; his stray was now bringing home its own strays. Hosea had been less keen, mostly because he was concerned about dragging another young soul into this life. But, at the end of the day, there had been no real resistance to you staying.

Arthur had immediately taken you under his wing and did his best to teach you how to survive. You’d never shot a bow or gun before, but Arthur took you out to practice with bottles and cans, and even bought you your own varmint rifle so you could go out hunting with him and Charles. Hosea and Karen were big fans of yours; or, more specifically, your skills as a pickpocket while they distracted a mark.

Arthur didn’t like you assisting like this though; him and Dutch frequently argued about it. You constantly asked him to take you on other jobs, but he always said no, always a different excuse. You didn’t really understand why Arthur was so protective; you weren’t his kid. It irritated you, but you probably owed Arthur your life, so most of the time you kept your mouth shut.

You were bored, re-wrapping the handle of your knife by the fire one evening when you overheard Arthur and Javier talking.

“I’ve got a good tip, Arthur. This old man has got a stash of cash hidden in his house, not far from here. We go now, in the dark, we can be in and out without anyone seeing, easy.”

“Sounds good Javier, let’s get goin’.”

“Arthur, I want to go.” You’d barely thought the words before they were out of your mouth.

“Huh. Come on (Y/N), you know that ain’t gonna happen.”

“Please Arthur! It’s not like a bank job or something, it’s sneaking, you know I’m good at that!” you said as you stood up.

“(Y/N), NO. This ain’t good for a kid. I ain’t risking it.” Arthur was more forceful this time and pushed you back down into your seat before walking off towards his tent.

You then did something you hadn’t done since your parents died; appealed to a higher authority. It used to be your mum; now, it was Dutch.

“Dutch, I want to go on the job with Javier and Arthur. Please can I go?”

Dutch chuckled. “Sure child, I’ve been wondering when you’d finally ask to go. Arthur said you felt you weren’t ready.”

Urgh. Arthur. So all that stuff about ‘Dutch says no’ was rubbish then.

“I am ready Dutch, I’ll make you proud.”

“Well you better hurry up then, before they leave!” Grinning, you ran to your tent and grabbed your things, before jogging over to Arthur and Javier.

“Arthur, Dutch says I’m to come.” Arthur sighed, looking over at Dutch, who nodded. He didn’t have the time to argue.

“Fine. Get on the damn horse then”.

The journey didn’t take long, and soon you were hitching the horses in the trees just outside the perimeter of the homestead. The three of you crept into the small barn next to the house.

“(Y/N), you stay in the barn and keep watch. You see anyone movin’, you whistle like Charles taught you. You got that?”

“But Arthur!”

“No buts, I ain’t in the mood. You shouldn’t be here, and I ain’t puttin’ you in harms way. I’ve lost a kid before, I ain’t losing you too.” This surprised you; you hadn’t heard Arthur mention any other kid apart from Jack, you weren’t sure who he meant.

“Javier, you check the other barn, I’ll take the house, we’ll meet back here.” You’d already pushed your luck being here, and you didn’t want to annoy Arthur further, so you reluctantly agreed.

“Fine.” As Arthur and Javier crept towards the house, you climbed the ladder into the small loft in the barn. At least you were away from the camp, and maybe, just maybe, Arthur may let you come on another job if you behaved.  

You waited for what felt like ages before you saw Arthur running quietly, keeping low, back towards the barn. From your vantage point in the loft, you didn’t see the man with the shotgun creeping up the side of the barn. Neither did Arthur.

“You thieving bastard.” Arthur had his hands up as the man backed him slowly into the barn.

“Hey, mister, I ain’t thieving, I’m with the Sherriff, he’d heard of some cattle rustlin’ up here and he told me to check it out.” The ease of Arthur’s lie impressed you; he was always treated just as Dutch’s enforcer, but sometimes he sounded more like Hosea. 

Panicking, you desperately looked around for anything you could use to help, maybe create a distraction. The homeowner was standing almost directly under the ladder now. Your frantic gaze settled on the small hay bale at the edge of the loft. As quietly as you could you crept over to it, then pushed with all your might.

“Yer a dirty liar mister. I’m going to shoot you right here, and let the Sheriffs deal with ya in the…..”

His sentence was caught short as the haybale slammed into his head, knocking him out. The haybale fell forwards, knocking Arthur onto his back.

“You alright?” you called down to Arthur.

Staying exactly where he’d fallen, Arthur sighed, then groaned a reply. 

“Sure. Thank you.”

[charllieeldridge]

How To Take a Japanese Bath in Tokyo: A Guide to Sentos

The Japanese bath (or Sentō) has long been an important part of Japanese culture. Traditionally, Japanese baths were used more out of necessity than out of pleasure as most people didn’t have access to a bath in their home.

At that time every neighbourhood in all of Japan had a public batch where the residents could go to bathe, socialize and in many cases, do their laundry.

Since the end of the 20th century, these public baths have been rapidly closing due to high running costs and fewer customers. One thing that could help them to stay open would be if more tourists would visit and express interest in this unique and fascinating part of local culture.

The issue for many is that these baths, while separated by sex, are nude by requirement so many westerners who aren’t used to bathing naked with strangers are immediately put off by the thought of a Japanese bath.

But for the traveller who sheds the institutionalized timidity of nudity and enters a Japanese bath with the locals, there is a wonderful opportunity to dive one level deeper into the complex nature of culture in Japan. 

On our recent trip to Tokyo, we visited 3 separate Japanese baths. We were invited by the Tokyo Sento Association to experience these popular, tourist-friendly sentōs and share them with our readers and viewers. We visited the bathhouses with a man who has been to over 500 different Japanese baths around the country and whose mission is to see every single sentō in Japan.

In this post, I’ll share with you the do’s and don’ts of visiting a Japanese bath in an attempt to demystify the sentō. Hopefully, the next time you visit Tokyo, visiting a sentō will be on your list. 

The Two Main Types Of Japanese Bath

A lot of people who visit Japan plan to head to an onsen, this is one of the top things to experience in Japan and is a great way to meet people and enjoy the natural thermally heated water. But this is not the only type of place you can bath in Japan and the one that I’m mostly focusing on in this post is the sentō. 

The Onsen

The Japanese onsen is a traditional, geothermically-heated hot spring where many people, both foreigners and locals, choose to bathe. There are thousands of onsens around the country and these facilities can be found in hotels and spas as well.

Onsens are also separated by gender and you’ll still be expected to take off all of your clothes and bathe with nothing more than a face towel as per traditional Japanese bath etiquette. 

The word onsen in Japanese means “hot + source” so to officially be labelled an onsen the water must be at least 25°C at the source. The facility must also meet strict criteria relating to the mineral content of the water including the levels of metaboric acid and hydrogen ion.

The Sentō

The sentō is a bath consisting of regular tap water that is heated by flame or electricity. While there are some sentōs around Tokyo and the rest of Japan that include a bath with geothermically heated water, it is not a requirement.

This means that, while many onsens are restricted to rural areas that have direct access to the volcanically heated source, sentōs are typically found in densely populated areas, neighbourhoods and suburbs as they only need to have a water heating system to run.

History Of The Japanese Bath

In the Nara Period from around 710 AD, Japanese baths were referred to as yūya or holy baths and were typically built inside of temples. It wasn’t until the Kamakura period in 1185 – 1333 AD when people who fell ill started to see the medicinal benefits of the Japanese baths and were slowly granted access to the temples to soak in the healing water. 

Soon after the ill were permitted entrance into these holy temples, so too were wealthy businessmen and merchants and over time, this gave way to the first public bathhouses which began opening at the beginning of the 13th century. 

By the Edo Period in 1603–1867, Japanese public bathhouses had spread across the country and the act of bathing naked with others was firmly woven into the social and cultural fabric of society. 

From that time until the end of the 20th century, public bathhouses were the norm and people would visit them multiple times throughout the week. After WWII, many houses were damaged and more and more people started relying on public baths. Their popularity peaked in the 1970s before they started seeing an increasingly steep decline.

Just 30 years ago there were likely more than 2,000 Japanese bathhouses operating in Tokyo alone, while today there are fewer than 600 open for business.

This is mainly due to the fact that many newer Japanese homes are built equipped with western style private bathrooms. These days sentō owners can barely afford to keep the businesses running, which in many cases have been passed down in the family for generations.

Don’t Miss Our Other Tokyo Travel Articles

What To Do in Tokyo – A List of The Best 

Cost Of Living in Tokyo – A Guide For Digital Nomads

The Cost To Enter a Japanese Bath

The cost of entering a sentō will vary between ¥350 and ¥470 depending on the prefecture it is located in.

As of 2019 all sentōs in Tokyo charge ¥470 ($4.30) for basic entrance, while many have additional treatments like hot stone and sauna at an additional charge. You can also usually rent towels and buy bathing toiletries in the main lobby of the sentōs.

How To Enter a Japanese Bath

Okay, so you’ve finally decided that you’re going to leave behind your fear of being nude around strangers and you’re going to go and have the unique and fascinating experience of a Japanese bath.

But, what do you do when you get there? Don’t worry! It’s simple.

Here are the 5 steps that you’ll take when entering any sentō in Tokyo or around the country.

Step 1: Take Off Your Shoes At The Door

Before entering the lobby of the bathhouse you’ll see an area with many lockers. This first set of lockers is for your shoes only. 

Remove your shoes in the designated area and place them in the locker while taking a key. In most cases, you’ll have to put a ¥100 coin into the locker to lock it and retrieve the key. This ¥100 will be returned to you when you are finished using the locker. The shoe lockers are still in the lobby, so keep your clothes on until you reach the change rooms.

Step 2: Pay The Fee

Next, you’ll enter into the main lobby and waiting area of the sentō. You may see a lot of people sitting around and drinking milk. That’s because they have already finished a bath and Japanese people typically enjoy milk as their beverage of choice after a long soak. 

In this lobby area, you’ll see a reception area and/or a vending machine where you can pay to enter. The fee for entering a sentō in Japan is regulated by the prefecture you’re in, so in Tokyo for example, all sentōs will cost you ¥470 (around $4.30 USD).

In most cases, you can also rent towels from reception and buy shampoo and soap if needed, but most Japanese people bring their own.

Step 3: Enter The Changing Room, Remove Your Clothes & Place Them In a Locker

There will always be two sets of change rooms in a Japanese bath, one for men and one for women. In most cases, there will be an illustration near the entrance to tell you which room is for which sex, but sometimes there are only Japanese Kanji characters (男 is Men, 女 for women). If you’re ever confused, simply ask reception or another customer where to go.

Once in the appropriate change room, remove all of your clothes (including your underwear) and lock them in the lockers provided. In very rare cases there will be no lockable area, in which case you will place your things in a basket and there will be a designated person there to watch over them.

Step 4: Enter & Shower Off

With your bathing items like soap, shampoo and (if you chose) a small hand towel, enter into the bath and head straight to the showers.

Here you will wash off before entering into the sentō. As mentioned earlier, it’s a good idea to completely clean yourself here before entering into the baths. Remember to sit down on the stools provided while showering. If you don’t see traditional western showers, look for a bucket shower.

Step 5: Pick a Bath and Relax

In most sentōs around Tokyo and the rest of the country, there will be a few different options for bathing. In the baths we visited, there were black water baths, hot spring baths, clear water baths, nano-bubble baths, saunas, jet tubs and more. It’s not uncommon to soak in all of the different tubs during a single visit to a sentō. Don’t be too alarmed if Japanese people strike up a conversation with you. It is normal to be very social in these intimate situations in Japan.

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Japanese Bath Do’s & Don’ts

The last thing a tourist wants to do is enter a bathhouse completely naked in a foreign country and accidentally upset someone or break the rules.

Luckily, Japanese people are extremely friendly and welcoming and the rules are simple. You’re not likely to offend anyone at a sentō in Tokyo, or anywhere else in Japan. Having said that, here are a few basic guidelines about Japanese bathing etiquette to help you on your way.

DO Get Naked

I know, I know, it’s not easy for us Westerners to get naked around strangers! I am the same way. The first few times I entered public baths in places like Turkey, Tajikistan, Kazakhstan and Japan, I was uncomfortable. But once you realize that this is completely natural and everyone around you does it all the time, you’ll start to relax.

The importance of being naked in a Japanese bathhouse goes beyond the utility of getting your entire body clean.

Japanese people also see nudity as a way of washing away the socio-economical hierarchy that exists in society. When you’re in a sentō and you’re completely naked, it doesn’t matter if you’re rich or poor, old or young, you are all equal inside the walls of the bathhouse.

DO Wash Off Before Entering The Baths

When you enter any sentō in Japan, after you take off all of your clothes and enter into the public bathing area, you’ll see that there are showers or bucket showers near the entrance. This is because you are expected to clean yourself off before you enter the baths. 

Rinsing Off Before Entering The Baths

Typically Japanese people will bring soap and shampoo to scrub themselves completely before soaking in the tubs. While this is recommended, it’s not required. At the very least you should rinse yourself off very well before entering the baths.

DO Sit Down While Showering

While you won’t likely offend anyone by showering standing up, it will be appreciated if you sit down on the little stools provided to shower off before entering the bath. This will help ensure that you don’t accidentally spray anyone else while rinsing off.

DO Dry Off Before Returning To The Dressing Area

The change rooms are meant to have dry floors so be sure to completely dry your body off before entering back into the dressing rooms. 

DO NOT Put Your Face Towel In The Bath

You may find that many Japanese people enter the baths and place a small towel on their heads. While this is not a requirement, if you do choose to enter the sentō with a small towel, do not put it inside of the bathwater. Either place it on your head or fold it neatly on the edge of the tub.

DO NOT Bring Your Phone Inside

This one should go without saying, but surprisingly it’s a common question that the Tokyo Bath Association receives from foreign visitors.

Everyone is naked so leave your phone/camera outside in your locker. Even if you’re just checking your emails, everyone knows that your phone has a camera on it so this will undoubtedly make others uncomfortable.

Can You Enter a Sentō With Tattoos?

It is a common misconception that people with tattoos will never be permitted to enter a sentō in Japan. Of the sentōs in Tokyo, about 90% of them will allow you to enter with tattoos and this number is increasing. 

Historically tattoos have been associated with the infamous mafia of Japan known as Yakuza. This age-old association between organized crime and tattoos is slowly fading and the fewer and fewer Japanese people even notice when there are tattoos around them in the baths.

If you have a tattoo and you’d like to visit a sentō in Tokyo, you can visit any of the three that we visited during our time and there are also more than 400 others that will happily welcome your artistically inked body.

If you’re concerned about visiting a bath and getting turned away, simply Google something like “[name of the sentō] + tattoo” and you should be able to find an answer as to whether or not you’ll be permitted to enter there. 

The 3 Sentōs We Visited in Tokyo

During our recent trip to Tokyo, we were lucky enough to meet up with Alfred, a true sentō expert who took us to three of his favourite sentōs in the city. On this day, we were able to visit the sentōs before they opened so that we could take videos and photos and share them on this blog and on Our Youtube Channel.

Don’t miss the video above to get a better idea of what it’s like to visit a public bathhouse in Japan. Here’s a list of the three sentōs we visited during our recent trip to Tokyo.

Musashi-Koyama Onsen Shimizu-yu (武蔵小山温泉)

Address: 3-9-1 Koyama, Shinagawa City, Tokyo

Cost: ¥470

The first bath we visited in Tokyo was Musashi-Koyama Shimizu-yu, a mouthful for foreigners for sure (as you can hear by our attempt in the above video). Despite its lengthy and hard to pronounce title, this is one of the most popular baths in all of Tokyo thanks to its sparkling clean interior, outdoor bathing area and the addition of naturally heated onsen water inside.

Musashi-Koyama Shimizu-yu has 6 unique types of bathing experiences within its walls including a natural hot spring, a hot rock sauna, and a black hot spring (kuroyo onsen).

Dariece Enjoying The Outdoor Bath at Musashi-Koyama

This particular Japanese bath has a well-equipped reception area where you can purchase shampoos and soaps, as well as rent towels and buy beverages (even beer). A lot of people choose this sentō for its indoor and outdoor bathing areas. The outdoor area has beautiful skylights so that natural light comes in while you’re soaking in the tubs.

Kaisei-Yu (改正湯)

Address: 〒144-0051 Tokyo, Ota City, Nishikamata, 5 Chome−10−5 改正ビル 1F

Cost: ¥470

The second sentō we visited in Tokyo was Kaisei-Yu. With a stunning mosaic of Mount Fuji looming above a large aquarium and immaculately clean baths, this is another one of the city’s most popular sentōs. There are two types of black water baths here, I particularly enjoyed the one that was mildly carbonated. However, my favourite bath in Kaisei-Yu was definitely the nanobubbles.

Enjoying The Nanobubbles at Kaisei-Yu Sentō in Tokyo

The tiny little bubbles cling to your skin and are said to help clean out your pores. I found it refreshing and relaxing and was having a hard time pulling myself away from the baths here. Also, the goldfish swimming in the tanks was a nice touch. 

Mikoku-Yu (御谷湯)

Address: 3 Chome-30-8 Ishiwara, Sumida City, Tokyo 130-0011

Cost: ¥470

Mikoku-Yu was another lovely sentō in Tokyo and by this time, after soaking at 2 other bathhouses on the same day, we were sufficiently relaxed. The best part of Mikoku-yu was the outdoor bath that had a stunning view of the Tokyo Sky Tree — the tallest tower in the world. 

Here the baths are on different levels so you take an elevator to the respective dressing floors. The sentō owners here alternate the floors between men and women so make sure to look for the small picture near the elevator door to make sure you’re going to the right dressing room.

Mikoku-Yu is equipped with many different bath types including a relaxing jet massage bath, an outdoor bath, a cold bath and even a herb-infused bath.

My Final Thoughts About Japanese Baths

As a person who has bathed in public baths before, I really enjoyed the experience of sentōs in Tokyo. I do still remember how uncomfortable I was the first time I entered a public bath (Hamam) in Istanbul Turkey and I know it can be a bit intimidating for western tourists, but once you overcome that fear and awkwardness of being nude around strangers, public baths are a great way to immerse yourself deeper in local culture.

I hope this article gives you a bit of insight into the history, cultural importance and etiquette of Japanese public baths and helps you to easily experience them for yourselves.

There are still more than 500 sentōs open and operational in Tokyo alone, so they’re a perfect way to relax after a long day of sightseeing around the city. Many sentōs and onsens are located inside of hotels, so as part of the experience of the accommodation you can go to the public baths there as well. 

If you have any questions about public baths, the customs, the rules or the steps to enter, please don’t hesitate to ask us in the comments section below.

Happy bathing!

Special thanks to the Tokyo Sento Association for inviting us to experience the sentōs of Tokyo. As always, all thoughts and opinions remain our own.

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