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For each “⭐️” I get, I’ll write a headcanon about our muses.

2 stars

⭐️-Hands on her hips Allie smiled to herself, the large wooden tray full to the brim with food. Bacon, fluffy pancakes, bowls of mixed fruit, freshly squeezed orange juice, eggs, and even a sweet cream to go with the buttery disks. She'd gotten up early, spending most of the early morning preparing a special meal.

Even if they didn't end up eating it all, Smokey was sure to happily beg and devour whatever wasn't consumed by the Little Sparrow and Alastar. She could already imagine the surprise on the man's face, and the hounds thumping tail accompanied by a pleading look.

She hadn't even delivered breakfast in bed and already she was practically bouncing as she picked up the tray and carried it out of the kitchen and upstairs. A glance over her shoulder at the kitchen revealed a disaster. Twice the amount of dishes created than was strictly necessary...she could clean that later...

(Allie makes him breakfast in bed some days...much to the poor destruction of the kitchen afterwards.)

⭐️- Slowly Allie wrapped the gauze around Alastar's knuckles. "It's usually me needing to get bandaged up." She wasn't chastising him, frankly she was surprised. And somewhat upset. Usually she was the reckless one, needing some kind of help or bandaging.

For all he'd done for her, it felt only right she had a chance to do it in return. Though oddly she also had this discomfort that he was hurt at all. Was that how he felt? "No more you hear? We aren't going to be getting hurt any more!"

The flat look he gave her was followed by a firm but gentle hand grabbing her arm and twisting it to reveal a scrape running down her arm. His flat look turned faintly amused as she gave him a sheepish look. "That doesn't count! No more from this moment!"

There was no way she could hold true to that...but she would try!

(They take care of each other and make sure to keep each other bandaged and in as good of condition as possible.)

Two headcanons for you!

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Black-capped Chickadee at Tupelo meadow ,Ramble ,Central park.

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(Reaction to the above prompt) During whatever bit of peace Alastar managed to grab for himself after his many, unexpected, long term, roommates, he went into the hidden room of the library and closed the door. Familiar pieces of mechanical work sat on the work table with so many different intricate pieces that were once a part of a smaller thing that were once part of a greater thing laid out; a reminder of his many, and unexpected, long term, roommates. Alastar left all those neatly piled piece of electronics exactly as they were as he focused on the many books inside this hidden room. He skimmed the titles, noting many of them were for blacksmithing and carving runes, and picked a random one of interest. He sat down and began reading. That was all he had planned for the day; to read the inner scribbles on the pages from his father's handwriting, notes and ideas of what to do with this particular information, things to create.

The peace only lasted so long. A bark dragged Alastar gaze away from the black writing. Barking. Not growling or whining as Smokey always did. Alastar shot up, quickly left the hidden room, and found Smokey staring at him from the entryway of the library with that begging look on his face before spinning and racing down the hallway. Racing. Did something happen? Someone die? Injured? A hundred of little things popped into his mind such as finding one of his roommates bleeding half-way down the mountain, an unexpected attack, or, he thought more tiredly, someone drugged out of their mind and in a coma... Smokey lead Alastar down the stairs to the front door, and instead of racing outside like expected, the large wolf-dog blocked his path and began pawing at a bag and .... Flowers? Blue Flowers to be exact. Not being a expert on flowers, but Alastar remembered his mother loving blue flowers. She always had them tucked far away in the gardens where only she knew so others could find. He smiled at the nostalgia, reached for the flowers, and froze with his fingertips still in the air. What if it was a trap? The warnings of the red-headed man and the scarred elf female settled heavily on his heart. Then common sense came to his forethought. Who had left these?

Alastar straighten up and looked around. The open grassland of the mountains valley held high in its beauty of scattered sunlight on a cloudy, windy day, with the only movement, beyond the trees, being the waterfall in the distant. His frown turned with uncertainty. Smokey whined as he sat down in front of him. Alastar looked at that pleading, begging face. Then laid down, giant paw rising in the air before smacking the bag that had been the dogs full attention. Alastar shook his head at the sight and picked up the bag. Smokey jumped with delight, stilled like a predator and waited. "If you die, its not my fault." He opened the bag and tossed one of the biscuits out into the grass; Smokey spun and gobbled it in two bites. The large dog then turned and stared at him with those predator eyes that begged more. Curious now, Alastar sniffed the biscuits within, smelling that faint sense of sweetness meant for animals and something more...

His smile hung slightly; there was something familiar about the second smell. He couldn't put it to thought though and being that his heart didn't freeze in fear, he assumed it was not someone that he considered a threat. Someone he knew? It definitely hadn't been the five others living with him, he knew there scents clearly. A friend from a time before? He frowned more out of worry. What friend knew of this manor back before?

His heart skipped at the only name that came to mind, but that wouldn't be possible. No. Alastar turned letting his thoughts shut off as he headed back inside with both flowers and remaining biscuits in tow.

alluded mentions: @divergent-lines @savianblackwood

What’s the toughest decision that you’ve had to make this week? How did you make it?

The Little Sparrow balanced, hands pressed flat against carved stone as sweat trickled down her face. Crystalline blue eyes tracked the little droplet as it crept down the top of her nose, swelled, then took flight to impact against the grey stone below her. A handstand atop a wall of Stormwind was perhaps not the best place for such things. A scant few inches from her fingertips stone gave way to air for a dozen or more feet before cobblestone wound break her should she fall.

Her concentration as she shifted her weight then slowly the grey stone grew within her vision as elbows bent and shoulders and biceps burned with the effort. That burning was nothing compared to the trembling burn that followed as she pushed herself back up into the air. Here she carefully bent at the waist until booted feet could find her weight and soon enough she was standing upright again.

Then the questions came and with a weary sigh the short woman settled down, feet kicking into air as they dangled below the wall and she looked out over the city. How to answer that? There was much she had considered this week and started the process towards.

Did she say her investigation into changing her name? Did she talk about looking for a healer to rid herself of the scars that plagued her legs and to make the nerves of her fingertips stop tingling? No, there was something else harder than all of that.

A wistful and melancholy smile tugged at her lips, “I climbed a mountain, and left flowers at a doorstep.” Leaning back on her hands she laughed, mostly at herself. “Silly for that to be difficult, right? Lily of the Vally, roses, some kind of bright blue things…the florist said it was the perfect bouquet for an apology. Wrapped up in a nice reddish bow and I even included some freshly baked biscuits for a dog to go along with it.” Allie tugged at a lock of her own dark red hair for emphasis.

“But it’s a step. I’ve walked the path up to his house half a dozen times only to chicken out and flee. I’ve watched every face that passes beside me and below me when I’m on a roof…” Trailing off she leaned forward to do that very thing. “I thought about writing a letter, I think I’ve ruined a dozen by now trying to write an apology, an explanation…something.”

Her smile became wry and tugged itself into something brighter. “Maybe I’m too much like my namesake. Not the girl I was nicknamed for but for a bird itself. Easily wanting to take flight when startled….”

There was a long pause as she watched the people moving about their business below. With a shake of her whole body a grin tugged at her lips. “I was too scared to leave a note still, and it’s presumptuous he’d even realize it was me. I can imagine how confused he’d be when he finds them.” Giggles burst forth as she laughed at it.

“It’s been a long time coming. It’s time for me to stop being a scared little chicken and to fly with the bravery of a Sparrow. Little as they are they live and breathe and dance upon the winds! So even if it might seem small, it was a choice made right?” Hopping up, Allie dusted her rear off with her smile still dancing about her lips.

“Enough about that though, I’m hungry and the biscuits smelled amazing even if they were meant for a dog. Time to get some biscuits for me, care to join me stranger?”

(( Thank you for the ask!

@alastar-wyatt for mentions!))

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Skyscrubbers

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are they proud of their scar?

“Which one?” The answer came with a bright little grin. Though one might question the modesty of such a thing, Allie lifted her shirt, rolled sleeves, even yanked up the cuff of her pants to point to various scars.

She did however stop herself from undoing her belt and dropping her pants to show off her leg and the collection of scars running from hip down to ankle. Marked like the stripes of a tiger she instead patted her leg. “This leg probably has the biggest collection. I uh…well I got caught in an explosion. Broke bone, got cut up real bad. I like how it looks but…”. At first she sounded prideful of the scar right up until the end as something else hit her.

“I spent several months recuperating and even longer after that a prisoner of war. Vanished from the world with non-the wiser. I still haven’t gotten the courage to see my old friend and the boy I love…he kept warning me about not following in the footsteps of my mom. Vanishing all the time like she does. But there I went and,” waving a hand she shrugged before continuing, “Poof. I was gone. Cool scars or not it makes me not so good right? And I’m being a coward and…”

Crystalline eye blinked for a moment followed by an embarrassed smile crossing her face. “Sorry getting off topic. But my leg. Would be the coolest even though it’s not something I should be all that proud of.”

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tag the oc that pretends they're more evil than they actually are

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Do y’all ever just…start a wip based on a vibe? Like you visualize the characters and the scenery and decide that’s enough to start a whole story?

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“Whoa, whoa, take it easy! You got pretty banged up back there, and you don’t want to go making yourself worse.” (you can do it for anyone that comes to mind, I'm just interested in seeing how allie responds)

There was no pain, it was a surprising thought that slipped through her mind before she lost consciousness. A flash of light, a concussive force, and she’d been sent off her feet and down the mountainside before it all went dark.

There was no pain when her eyes fluttered open to look at a wooden ceiling. Masked people scrambling around her. Bits and pieces of words flitted through her ears and consciousness before once more it all went dark.

“…broken.”

“Shrapnel…..blood loss………”

“…….nearly…..dead…..saved….”

At first when her eyes opened once more, and she found herself staring up at a different wooden ceiling from before she didn’t feel pain. Just a numbness across her body and a tingle that traveled from the tips of her fingers to her toes. It was a fight just to sit up, and while she didn’t need to toss back the covers to know she was wrapped in bandages she did it anyway starting at her arms, her legs, and even with whatever thin shift they’d found to shove her she had more wrapped around her torso.

Most troubling of all were the splints around her left arm and right leg. And yet it didn’t hurt. In her head she knew, of course she did but she started to sit up more, to bring her legs over the edge of the bed.

The movement drew the attention of an orderly, an elderly dwarf with a kind face. “Whoa, whoa, take it easy! You got pretty banged up back there, and you don’t want to go making yourself worse.” He cautioned, hands already reaching to guide her back to laying down.

Her mind knew she shouldn’t try to stand up, but her mind was also telling her with a growing sense of wrongness…she wasn’t in pain.

And so, she stood.

And so, her splinted leg gave out under her.

And then came the pain, driving the breath from her lungs in a shuddering rush, lips parted in a wordless cry as pale skin went even more pale.

Broken. Her leg was broken. Perhaps her arm too if the second splint was any indication.

Shrapnel. Blood loss. It had been a bomb of some sort. All the bandages were to patch her up afterwards. The numbness and weakness were perhaps because of that.

Neary dead. Saved. She’d come close to dying. Blood loss from the shrapnel, from the explosion. As the dwarf helped her up and all but carried her back to bed. “You need to rest lass, what did I tell you. Your leg and arm are broken right now. Even to walk yer lookin’ at a good couple of months.”

Months. No, no. She couldn’t do that. She had to get home. She…” Where are we?” The question concerned her but slipped from her lips before she could help it.

Pity took over the man’s expression. “Kiddo…lass…this is a prison camp. We’re at the mercy of the Horde and the war effort. They say it’s a battle for Azeroth itself.”

The Little Sparrow could only stare at the man then up at the ceiling as he finally left. Broken. Trapped from a war. Slowly crystalline blue eyes shut, and her good arm was set over them.

“Fuck…Alastar, I’m so sorry…”

@alastar-wyatt for mention

(Was a lot of fun to write like this again! I have a lot of backstory I need to fill to catch my Little Sparrow up to current timelines but this felt like a good start for BoA times)

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㋡🥀

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Green Shield Workshop – Navi Sad, Serbia

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🇸🇮 Janko Ferlič

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The E-book is available now!  Eeeee! I’m so excited!