bakerstreet | Cross my heart

Entry tags:

[meme] shipping

Cross my heart

The Crossover Love Meme

Everyone loves a good crossover. Serious, natural, or cracky, playing outside the norm can be fun. Shipping is fun, too, and add the two together? INSANE amounts of fun. Really, that's enough said. This meme is for crossovers, shipping, and crossover shipping.

how to play
- Comment with your character, putting any preferences you may have.
- Comment to others! Remember, this is a crossover love meme, so commenting to castmates will result in the goblins coming to eat you. Or something.
- Use the RNG to pick your poison for you or just wing it.
- Have fun and watch your wildest dreams come true. Like magic.

one.
Obsessed love. You are obsessed with this person to the point that it is dangerous, unhealthy and absolutely insane; you want them to be with you, you, you, you, and only you, and nothing is going to stand in your way. No one is going to hurt your love - in fact, no one is going to come near your love. And if they say they don't love you? They will. You'll make them. Because you're meant to be together, and you're going to be together, forever and ever and ever. Married married married~

two.
Fairy tale love. You're convinced that this person is your prince or princess! Your true love! The one that you're destined to be with! And they know it too -- at least, they should. You must woo them, court them, try to convince them that you two were meant to dance with fuzzy adorable mascot animals and have a big wedding together! If they don't love you? They must be under a spell from an evil witch, or something! They do say that true love's kiss breaks solves all.

three.
Cute love. It is adorable, and sweet, and innocent. You want to hold hands and exchange chocolates and pretty cards and take long walks on the beach and talk about your future and your kids and aaaaw. It's just like you're in a G-rated Disney movie! You just want your True Love(TM) to be happy, and to know that you love them very much. ;u;

four
School Kid Crush love. You're apt to pass love notes and stalk admire your crush from afar. They're so cool and suave, and you're just little old you... but you just can't seem to stop thinking about them and scribbling their name into your notebook! Nervous, nervous, nervous. Ohhh, they're looking at you. How embarrassing! It's almost like they can tell how you feel about them!

five.
Love/hate. Of course you love them, but you're way too shy to admit that! Things like that are embarrassing, damn it! You'll yell and flail and hit the love of your life, but it's just because you're not sure how to show that you love them. I mean, you'll still be awfully upset if they try to leave you, or if they don't understand, or they don't want to kiss you... But there's no way you'll say "I love you"!! ... Not unless they say it first, at least. Physical comedy ahoy!

six.
Forbidden love. You yearn for them, but for some reason, you can't be with them! It kills you inside, and just being around them fills you with butterflies. But once... just for tonight, you're willing to throw it all away and be with them! But... what, they don't feel the same way? They're just being shy! It's time for you two to be secret lovers, and it's not possible if they're being stubborn! They shouldn't worry, you won't tell anyone! And you need this. It's scary, yet thrilling, and all they need is a little... persuasion!

seven.
Sexy love. Maybe there's some love hidden deep down somewhere, but that's not the priority here; first thing's first is that man needs to take his clothes off right now. You don't want to talk about your house and your white picket fence and your 2.5 kids; you just want to touch that person now, and you'll think about the rest in the morning. Kissing and contact and maybe a little lovin' are what you want, and nothing is going to stop you. No means yes. For underage characters (and those of us who w-would rather not write sexy things), kisses and flirting are all you need.

eight.
Extreme love. You have to impress the object of your affections, before they're stolen away by some fool! You can do anything when it comes down to showing how much you love this person, even if it means spending all your savings on them, buying nice things that they don't actually need. You're so overcome by your love for them, that's all that matters! You'll definitely win them over with your amazing shows of love and prowess!

nine.
Melodramatic love. This is very important and you know you're rushing things a little but this love was meant to be!! Your love life is suddenly a Shakespearean tragedy, complete with dramatic plot twists and turns, and you need to confess your love to the world before it's too late! There's no time to lose; in the morning, you're going to be exiled, your love is going to be hanged, your mother will be shot, your father will become a pirate and someone will kick your puppy!! For bonus points, speak in terrible, hilarious, terrible prose.

ten.
Possessive & Manipulative love. You want this person, need them, want to own them -- but things don't seem to be going as planned. They keep looking at other people and talking to other people... it doesn't matter if they feel the same way, you'll force them into doing what you want them to do. You'll manipulate the situation. You'll manipulate their feelings until they are utterly yours, and can no longer deny that they belong to you. Cold and calculating, you'll get what you want.

[prompts collected with love from other memes to make this.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

ooc: up for anything expect possessive/manipulative.

[Only interested in prompts 3, 6, and 7, sorry! I just want wholesome-ish things.]

[I love crossovers and crossover CR! I am especially fond of throwing Newt into other fantasy worlds, particularly Dragon Age, but am open to anything! Gen or shipping are both loved, and this is entirely OTA. Assumed CR is also very welcome.]

_{[So I have two options with a very similar premise but slightly different personalities, if you'd be interested in either of them. Basically both shapeshifters because Newt and animals.
So I have Ilya here, lazy, laid back dragon OC from a vaguely modern fantasy setting
Or Fenrir, grumpy and prickly giant wolf of Norse myth fame
Was thinking of a sort of Newt taking in an injured animal only for them to then change form and oh hey they're people]}

Edited 2018-08-07 11:29 (UTC)

[I love both of these options to be honest! Kind of leaning towards Ilya/laid back dragon option because he sounds fascinating. And from what I've read of Ilya, he'll remind Newt of his Niffler with regards to sensing nearby shiny/valuable things.

I'm happy to put up a starter, or you can if you prefer. Would you want this set in Ilya's world or Newt's? I'm happy to play with either.

I have to go to work but I'll get back to this later today.]

_{[I did think of the niffler connection with his hoarding of shiny things XD}

I'm cool with either! Ilya's world is sort of generic and I'm familiar enough with HP that it'd be easy for me to bring him into it so we can do Newt's world if that works for you?

If you could start that would be lovely <3]

[Nice! Well, let me know if I need to change anything! Here you go!]

Having only recently stepped off the boat from New York back in England, what little peace Newt knew during the course of his journey has vanished as quickly as it appeared.

The Niffler found a means to escape once again, the lure of shiny buckles of various passersby too much for him to resist. Naturally.

So Newt is currently running down a side street in London; he is also trying to be discreet about it and failing. Merlin, as if he weren't in enough hot water with the Ministry already. This is, no doubt, only going to add to the mountain of problems he seems determined to collect.

He turns another corner, this one much more sharply than intended, and he nearly trips over the poor stranger standing nearby.

"So sorry," he apologizes with a wheeze. His gaze keeps darting back and forth; he's determined not to lose sight of the little bugger. "Wasn't paying attention to where I was going."

Ilya doesn't enjoy being in the city, everything's so close and loud and frustrating, and he has to keep extra tight control of his emotions and the consequent shift that stress might cause. Frankly, it's exhausting. But he has to be here sometimes, it was important to occasionally interact with civilisation.

Besides, there were such wonderful things to be found here, as he'd found on his way to the bank to deal with some business there and been distracted by an old jewellery shop down one of the side streets. He could practically smell the gold...

He'd just turned down the street when a small creature nearly tripped him up darting between his legs and making a beeline for the very jewellers he was heading to himself. He paused in confusion, because he could have sworn that was a niff-

His train of thought is disrupted by the man nearly falling into him and he turns instinctively reaching out to try and catch him before he falls.

"No, sorry I shouldn't have been just standing there."

The Niffler darts ahead once again and Newt's lost sight of him just as he decides to take off once more. But perhaps it's a good thing that he wound up nearly colliding with this stranger; he has a moment to catch his breath, at the very least.

"I don't suppose my Niffler took anything of yours, did he?" He asks. He may as well; he'll need to know what to look for when he turns out the Niffler's seemingly endless pouch when he finally does catch up with him.

"He's been restless these past few days," he says, shaking his head. "I should have taken him out more, if only to get it out of his system."

It occurs to him that he's rambling, and that this stranger probably doesn't care; most people don't. It also occurs to him that this man is likely a Muggle.

"And you don't know what I'm talking about, do you?" He asks.

"No," Ilya shakes his head, he doesn't even need to check his pockets to be sure, he knows enough about nifflers to know the kind of thing they go for, and he would definitely know if the creature had taken anything precious from him.

There's something faintly endearing about the rambling young man, and Ilya can't help but smile slightly at him.

"I know better than you think. There's a jewellers down this street, that's probably where he's gone..."

"That's a relief," Newt sighs, running a hand through his tousled hair. At least he can rule out his Niffler stealing from one person. Only one, granted, but still. It's better than his usual numbers.

"A jewelers, did you say?" He says, gaze darting down the street. That is, indeed, one of the most likely of places for his Niffler to have gone.

"I'm sorry to ask but would you mind showing me?" He asks. He hates having to ask, but he doesn't know this area of London particularly well; it's the fancier side of town, and he tends to avoid it as much as he can, generally speaking.

Ilya shrugs, he was heading in that direction anyway so it doesn't take him any more effort to show the other man.

"Of course," he agrees, motioning for Newt to follow him as he turns back down the street. He pauses for just a moment, lifting his head slightly and it genuinely looks like he's sniffing the air, but only for a moment before he sets off down the street, making a beeline directly for the small jeweller's shop. It's old, and particularly fancy, with just a discreet sign and one small window displaying a gold necklace, but Ilya knows it's where the Niffler would be - not least because it's where he wants to be.

"I imagine he's in here," he says, pushing the door open with a jingle of the bell.

Newt is grateful when the stranger agrees to show him the way. Likely, he could have found the place himself. Eventually, after getting distracted by a thousand wayward thoughts or other distractions. And he's grateful for the company, as well; Merlin knows he might need the help in wrangling his Niffler.

Newt thinks nothing of the gesture in which the other man appears to be sniffing the air; he's done that himself often enough, depending on where he happens to be at any given moment. It's especially useful for him around the area of London in which he lives.

He follows, and when he catches sight of the small shop, so small he would have certainly missed it on his own, he nods.

"Yes," he says, taking in the size and style of the shop as he follows Ilya inside. The coziness of the shop itself certainly reminds him of his Niffler's burrow in the suitcase.

As does the trail of gold and silver scattered about the floor. His shoulders sink with the huff of a sigh that passes from his lips.

"Likely, he's made his way to the back by now, I would imagine," he says, very much ignoring the outraged stares of the various (if few, blessedly) customers in the store.

"Probably," Ilya agrees, barely taking his eyes off the trail of gold and silver "There's an especially large diamond in there, he's probably looking for that."

He crouches down, beginning to gather up the discarded jewellery "I'll just tidy this up..." it's difficult to resist when it's right there and for a moment he forgets about the man and his niffler and the other people in the store and is entirely focused on the gold in his hands.

He snaps out of it after a moment and straightens up quickly, expression sheepish.

"In the back room. That's probably where he is."

[ Okay so I can't resist... For fantasy worlds, how do you feel about fictionalized accounts of Greek myth? If you aren't familiar, Circe is a witch who is very fond of animals and has a certain knack for charming / domesticating them. I'm also happy to put her in a completely different AU setting. ]

[I love fictionalized accounts of Greek myth and I love Circe, so I would be absolutely down for this! I can work with either Circe's time (and I think Circe is acknowledged in HP canon/has a Chocolate Frog card so Newt would absolutely know who she is) or Newt's, whichever works better for you! I can put up a start if you like? Do you have any other preferences?]

[ Oh, you're totally right, I hadn't thought of her reputation in the wizarding world, haha. At the risk of being unhelpful, I'm fine with either. I can help brainstorm a scenario if you'd like, but otherwise, no real preferences. I'm fine angling for the more standard shippy romantic route or a more platonic/familial route as well-- I'm flexible!

It's very kind of you to offer to write the start, let me know if you need more input from me :) ]

[Alright, no worries! I'll set this in Newt's time period/world, just after the events of the first movie if that works? I'm totally up for gen and shipping both; maybe we can wing it and see how it goes? Also, something else I just thought of: Newt's family has very Greek orientated names; one of his middle ones is Artemis! If I need to change anything, please let me know! And please don't feel like you have to match tag length; my tags can get wordy/novel-like sometimes!]

Setting sail in a thunderstorm isn't the brightest of ideas Newt's ever had. And yet he does it anyway. (In truth, that sentence could be the brief summary of his life thus far.)

But he needs to get out of London. He needs to be away from the Ministry and his family both. He can't even look Theseus in the eye right now; not without becoming extremely agitated and potentially setting him on fire. (Alright, not literally. Maybe literally.)

So he leaves, taking passage on the ship leaving soonest. Not to America, of course, much as he might want to visit again; he did promise President Piquery, after all. He doesn't know where, exactly, this small boat is headed; the witch setting sail promised him passage along with her for a price he didn't bother arguing with. He thinks she's mentioned something about Greece.

Just as well. He can distract himself with some magical and dangerous beasts. He knows, at least, where they keep their sharp and dangerous bits, which is more than he can say for people, at the moment.

The thunder booms loud overhead; lightning flashes in wicked streaks across the sky. The boat quivers beneath Newt's feet, and he finds himself grasping desperately to the side of the rails and suitcase both to hold on.

And then the boat overturns, and the next thing he knows, Newt is flailing in the water, bobbing up and down as he tries to keep a hold of his precious suitcase. The wind tosses him about just as much as the water; his own hair keeps hitting him in the face, and he keeps swallowing vile salt water. Lightning flashes before his eyes and thunder rings loudly in his ears before everything turns to black.

He's surprised to be alive, is his first reaction, when he awakens to find himself in tact on some kind of beach. Even more surprising is that his suitcase is still right by his side next to him. He winces as he moves; his bones ache, and he is likely bruised all over. But he is alive, and that is the important thing.

As he stands, he takes in the sights around him. Something about this place feels magical, he thinks. And so he starts forward, moving to explore his new environment.

[ Not a problem at all, I also can be quite wordy! As... evident below. Thanks so much for setting it up! And thaaat is a very good point re: the Greek names, haha ]

If it is not precisely magical, it is certainly at least mystical, in that old sense referring to something strange and unknowable. Aeaea is beautiful even storm-tossed, the beach layered with sand and glittering rocks, one towering rough-edged mountain looming at the far horizon over the forest slopes. A treeline springs up some distance from the edge of the foam-tipped waves, and it is a raucous wild growth layered with vegetation and fauna, interrupted by a clear, well-trodden path.

Nymphs have not been on the isle in centuries, not since Circe put a stop to it at the time of her pregnancy with Telegonus, but she has not been totally without visitors in all the years since. And not just the vile, rapacious kind, as for a time she'd been accustomed to. She'd boldly demanded and received the cessation of her exile from Helios, over a thousand years ago, and in that time she's traveled the world over and finally returned once again to Aeaea.

A thousand years is not a span of time she has bothered to count. Her grief over losing Telemachus to his age had been terrible, as terrible as losing Telegonus to the world had been, but the peacefulness of their deaths and the joy of having known them had eased things with time. She still kept tapestries woven by Penelope at Daedalus's loom by her hearth, preserved from age with magic. She can keep, at least, the remnants of mortals eternal, if not the people themselves.

It's her wolves who alert her to visitors, and has become her custom, Circe remains in her lavish house, knowing whoever it is will come up the trail and find her eventually. She prepares food and wine in advance, in an old rote routine, ignoring the now-familiar rush of anticipatory eagerness. She is confident these days in her ability to protect herself, as she once was not, and it lends a wholly different character to these arrivals.

The wolves and hogs and lions of Aeaea have never known a time Circe was not there. She can make them long-lived but not immortal, and they are the many-times great-grandchildren of the first of them she tamed. They are still wild in their own ways, and independent, but they have an intelligence and an intent to them that is unnatural. They lounge carelessly about the island, and are disinterested in visitors past alerting Circe to them.

At the end of the path, there is an elaborate well-worked garden, indiscriminate between herbs and flowers and vegetables, beside a sparsely populated pig sty. The homeliness of it does not match the gilded window casings and worked wood of her doors at all.

Newt can't help but marvel as he makes his way along the island. The nature here can only be described as untamed and beautiful; each vibrant burst of color seems to him as bold a declaration of independence as he's ever seen in his travels.

To say nothing of the beauty of the animals he happens across, as well. They seem to pay him no mind, which is...interesting. Even when quietly observing creatures of all sorts, they tend to notice Newt right away. Not so the case here, or so it seems, which strikes him as odd.

But no matter. He finds himself along a path that leads to one of the most spectacular homes Newt has ever seen. His eyes widen as he takes in the magnificent garden and the beautiful structure itself, not to mention the way the two seem to...not entirely match one another. The effect is quite charming, he thinks. He wonders that this seems to be the only home here, and he marvels at the possibilities of where he's wound up.

"Hello?" He calls out, not wanting to intrude but also wanting to alert to whoever lives here of his presence. Perhaps this is an elaborate trap; perhaps not. He's willing to risk it, either way. He doesn't really have much choice; not if he wants to discover where he is.

It is not a home Circe would have picked for herself, that is certain. It is a symbol of her father's defiance to Zeus, that even in exile his daughter would be treated like the goddess of his blood she is, and its wealth has nothing to do with her. But over the years she has grown accustomed to it and now thinks of it as hers in truth, hence the raggedly disorganized, well-tended garden adjacent.

Circe goes to the door and opens it at the voice. She is not an imposing figure, or even noticeably divine; many mortals have no idea of her godhood at all when they meet her, in her neatly hand-spun and hand-dyed skirts, her hair a messy braid flipped forward over her shoulder. "Be welcome," she says plainly, with curious eyes and a mortal's unremarkable voice. These interruptions are now the highlight of her years. "I imagine you are lost, and hungry, and in need of help."

It amuses her to follow the same script as she did for those centuries when she turned men into pigs. Not that she still couldn't now, or doesn't set the same trap; but it seems less often that she springs it. That has less to do with the quality of men that come to her isle and more to do with something indefinable changing in her, she thinks. Some difference they notice that make them hesitant to steal or pillage from her. Or maybe just that goddesses age by appearance very slowly, and it is only recently that she has begun to look old enough to be a mother instead of an unmarried maiden. Who knows what goes through the hearts and minds of cruel men.