#I don't know the elf's middle name yet

[holokaylan]

MY FIRST COMPLETELY DIGITAL WORK!!

These are two of my OCs (non-canon)

The colors on the computer and on the cell phone are different, the flamingo is very vibrant but it looks really cool

[queers-gambit]

Bait and Switch

prompt: ( requested ) Adar knows you by surname and reputation, but makes a fatal mistake: underestimating the mutual desire to reunite with your husband.

pairing: Elrond x female!wife!reader -> hair color specified reader that does not specify race

fandom masterlist: The Rings of Power

word count: 7.7k+

note: did i steal the Targaryen hair color? "obviously," - Severus Snape. but don't let HOTD's wigs fool you - this hair color is NOT indicative of race.

warnings: reader insert for the haters, spoilers, cursing, angst, hurt and comfort, fuck tone of ellipsis 'cause Adar talks slow. POW!Reader (prisoner of war), violence, blood, injury, depiction of medical phenomenon (cauterization), slight gore (Reader bites off an Orc finger). healthy family dynamics, embedded Aragorn quote, Middle-earth fire is hotter than reality so JUST. roll. with. it. okay? okay. also, this requires a lot of imagination 'cause author invents really random lore but have fun with it. not edited, author can't see straight so what the fuck is this?

incarnate: embody or represent (a diety or spirit) in human form

"We found an Elf still alive, Lord Father!"

Adar watched lazily as one of his children stood over a body covered by toxic volcanic ash; twitching as it regained consciousness. "Kill it," he answered simply. The Orc snarled in pleasure and bent to grab the Elf's head; gripping their hair aggressively, yanking their head up - possibly snapping the Elf's spine - and lifted his blade in the air. However, the clump of hair was familiar and suddenly, Adar was barking, "Wait!"

Not many Elves had this particular hair color. It was dyed from soot and ash, but he could recognize the bright, platinum white-blonde hair. While some Elves were extremely fair yellow-blonde, this was white - like the purest of snows. And Adar only knew this trait belonged to one single bloodline.

The Incarnated, a single brood blessed by the Valar to give them unnatural strength and skill in battle. They were impressive, formidable foes; and typically, never lost a fight, battle, or war. They were absolutely brutish, almost impossible to kill, yet humble, generous, and kind.

Their aim always found the bullseye. Broadswords able to sever bone. Morality skewed more positive than simple neutrality. Silver tongues sharpened to prick the ears that listen.

However, it should be noted that even the Incarnated cannot withstand against the eruption of a volcano.

The Orc snarled with confusion now, hissing through his bloody teeth but not lowering the Elf. Adar strolled over, glaring at their captive, but slowly lowering himself to a squat as the Orc presented his finding. Adar's eyes squinted, reaching out and musing the trademark locks out of the Elf's face; smirking as he caressed her cheek free of ash.

He growled your name, sight still hazy from the eruption of what will later be known as Mount Doom - yet could still recognize sounds. Slowly, you blinked and tried to focus, groaning as pain in your scalp burned and prickled; spine bowed from the horribly painful position.

"Adar?" You whispered in confusion.

"You remember me."

You scoffed, slurring slightly, "You left quite a lasting impression."

His hand dropped to push hair from your neck and shoulder, revealing a long blemish from his dagger years ago. "And here we meet yet again," Adar chuckled. "Release her," he told his child, who instantly dropped you with a grunt; ash puffing up on impact. "Come," Adar offered his hand as you tried to sit up with trembling limbs, "we've still farther to go."

"Fuck you," you seethed, spitting at him; ready for the pain to end after the displacement and turmoil of your people. You had been with the Númenoreans, along with Commander Galadriel, and this... "King" Halbrand; celebrating victory against Adar's first volley of Orcs when the explosion happened; spewing toxicity into the earth, through the air, and evidently, over the area to distinguish what will be known as Mordor.

"Hm," Adar considered your weak form, chuckling. "Get her up," he commanded, standing, and watching as chains were slapped to your wrists and ankles before being tossed into a bloody, maggot-infested, wood-rotting wagon.

Seemingly eons away, Elrond was being informed of your assumed demise. Your husband refused to believe it, but by the solemn look of the messenger, his greatest companion, Galadriel, he knew there was weighted truth to her words.

"Did you see her?" Elrond asked.

"See her fall? No - "

"Did you even look for her?"

"Of course we did, but it was too dangerous to linger longer than what we'd been there for."

Elrond's head shook, "No. No... I won't believe it - "

"I know it's difficult to accept, but... She's gone, Elrond."

"I would know if my wife is dead," Elrond snarled uncharacteristically. "Believe what you wish, but I know she still lives."

Galadriel knew better than to argue; she, herself, spent years of denial after Sauron murdered her brother, Finrod. So she gave Elrond space to process what he'd learned.

Yet while a circumstantially redeeming quality, Elrond was stubborn and confident in his morals and opinions. So, he refused to believe your life was lost; something in his gut twisted knowingly, assuring you were just misplaced and surely, soon to be home. Elrond knew you had a flair for the dramatic, so, he just prayed this was one of those times - where you wouldn't reappear until the very last second to make an entrance.

Yet Adar took every precaution to ensure you did not escape or could be rescued. He didn't parade you around, he kept you hidden away to prevent gossip from revealing your location. You were constantly left chained to posts by rusting irons, no comfort offered, no reprieve; nothing to pass your annoying suffering a little easier. You were fed just enough to be kept alive, you were allowed to wash yourself with a single cloth every few weeks - but typically with an Orcish audience watching, claiming they're "on duty". You lost use of your tongue after so many months had passed without a single indication aid had been deployed - hope shattered and futile.

You wondered if Elrond knew. You worried he thought you lost to the war. In vain, you prayed he didn't give up on you. However, you were logical and logic screamed at you that nobody would come - there was no point! You would've believed being told someone perished, too, if you heard of such circumstances.

Despite being an Incarnated, you were emotionally drained. Though, it's worth noting that under normal circumstances, you would've NEVER ended up in this position; but because of your vulnerable state and the opportunity was too good to pass up, Adar prided himself on "defeating you". He didn't know that you were beyond patient; waiting, observing, listening, leaning routines and schedules. Any opportunity you identified, you searched for anything that could help you escape; something sharp, small enough to pick the lock of your irons. You were Incarnated - your will to survive (even out of pure spite) rivaled that of any enemy.

Camp to camp, you were moved. Day by day, you lost a little more sanity. Nights grew cold, days short.

You were surprised when a pair of Orcs lumbered into "your" room, unlocking you from the post but keeping the chains on your wrists in place. They yanked you behind them, shoved you into Adar's tented shelter then forced you to your knees before the food-filled banquet table.

"And of course, there's her," Adar waved at you lazily, smirking when his newest prisoner of war sat forward with a gobsmacked expression.

She whispered your name, head snapping up to find your companion, Commander Galadriel, sat at the opposite head of the table to Adar. You smiled slightly and whispered her name softly, aware of your appearance and how straggly, despondent, and wary you must look.

"What is the meaning of this?" Galadriel demanded, the emotion in her thick voice making it crack.

"We found her," Adar smirked, "after you and your people abandoned her."

"We did not - "

"She's been... An honored guest of ours," Adar cut Galadriel off. "Her hair - it's a rare trait, I knew who she was when she was found. Figured she could truly help... Turn the tides in this war."

"You do not know what you've done," Galadriel breathed. "If her kin knew you held her, they would raze your camp into the dirt and return your children to darkness."

"You think... I do not understand the risks of holding an Incarnated? I have faced them before, known their wrath... But against Sauron, it was a necessary risk to take."

"Why?"

"You must see," Adar explained, "that it is not His lies which must be extinguished. It. Is. Him." He paused, revealing, "And I can help you do it." Adar leaned forward in his chair, "I can help you destroy Sauron, and should you value your friend's life, you will let me help you."

"What help could you possibly provide, Orc?" Galadriel spat, now leaned back casually in the chair Adar sat her in.

"Uruk," Adar corrected in Black Speech, standing from his seat to venture towards the side of the room. He stood before a plain wooden box, lifting the lid, and revealing in his hands:

"Morgoth's crown," Galadriel sat up. "I was told - "

"There are many stories of what happened after the Silmarils were pried from its setting," Adar validated. "But I was there when Sauron re-fired it to fit Himself. I was there when He kneeled to be crowned. And I was the one who used its power to slay Him."

Adar set the crown to the table, your stomach growling at the sight and smell of full platters.

"If what you say is true... Why did He return?" Galadriel asked.

"Because I had not yet found you, as I have her," he gestured at you.

"What part are we to play in this?"

"It is said the Three Elven Rings saved your people from fading. Is it true?" When Galadriel didn't answer, Adar nodded at one of his children standing over you; making the Orc bash you in the temple. "Is it true?" Adar repeated over your whimper of pain.

"Yes," Galadriel grit, glaring at the small dribble of fresh blood dripping down the side of your face. She decided red wasn't your color - no matter how much your husband liked seeing you in it.

"Then perhaps... Together, this crown and your Rings would be powerful enough to truly destroy Sauron forever. The Deceiver believes he is still beyond my grasp... But I know he hides in Eregion. And I suspect you know for certain... Halbrand is Sauron... Isn't he?"

You laughed a little, "Halbrand? Sauron? Come off it, you're mistaken. Go on, Commander, tell him - tell him." Galadriel was silent as she was overwhelmed by her memories. "Commander, tell him he's wrong! Halbrand isn't Sauron, tell him he's mistaken!"

Adar mistook the silence as her being defiant, nodding to his son again in permission. So, the Orc swiftly backhanded you with enough force, it literally toppled you backwards with a groan.

"I kept her alive... For you," Adar growled, bearing his teeth at the Elleth. "But I'll execute her at nightfall if you continue down this path of resistance. The fate of that city and your friend now rests on your ability to put aside your pride." Galadriel's teary eyes casted over you, sprawled out on the floor - not finding the use in sitting up to your knees again. "I suggest you find the will to do so... If you can, for everyone's sake." Adar removed the crown from the table and placed it back in its box, Galadriel hissing your name, only receiving a nonverbal thumbs up to indicate you were okay. When the Father of Uruks returned, he clipped matching irons to Galadriel's wrist before snatching up his sword, tossing over his shoulder, "We will speak again. I'll give you until nightfall to decide."

The Orcs filed out of the room after Adar, leaving you on the ground and chained to a spare post. Slowly, you tried to sit up and use the beam as support; grimacing in pain that made your friend question, "Are you hurt?"

"They're not the most merciful lot," you tried to joke with a smirk, but it turned into a wince, "but I've been through worse, I'll be fine. Listen to me, Galadriel," you sniffled, "you can't tell Adar anything. I don't care if he's gutting me, you don't tell him - "

"I would not have your life ended on my account, it would be as if swinging the sword myself!" Galadriel argued with heat.

"Adar is not your ally," you scoffed, "nor are the Orcs - look at what they've done! Continue to do! Do not be so foolish! So blinded, please, I beg you, my friend. If you tell him about Sauron, yes, your enemy might be vanquished, but you could be creating an entirely new and future enemy that all of Middle-earth must endure. My life is not worth that."

"It's worth more."

You smirked, "Don't forget who I am, friend; I am Incarnated, and I will not die easily nor without a fight. Adar will not succeed in my death so easily."

Galadriel shook her head, "If I do not indulge Adar with information I have and you lose your life because of that, Elrond would never forgive me."

You gave a watery smile, sniffling, "How is he?"

The Elf shook her head, "He's... He refuses to accept your fate, operates on a shorter fuse, he's mourning - even if he doesn't acknowledge or believe he is."

"It's not that I don't love you, my friend, but... I'll miss him the most," you let a single tear fall, a wistful smile toying on your lips. "You'll look out for him, won't you? Just... Just don't let him be alone, please. He'll try to push you away, but be patient; he'll need you and I'll rest easier knowing you'll be there."

"I won't do as you ask," Galadriel grit. "Look at you!"

"How can you be so confident that the moment you tell Adar what he wants to know, he won't kill me anyway?"

"Because Adar appears a man of rationality - unlike Sauron - "

You scoffed, "None of them are rational, Galadriel! They have their own agendas - and none of them benefit the likes of us! Don't tell him anything else, I don't care if he's gutting me like a pig, you don't say anything!"

"I can't agree to that," Galadriel shook her head, "I won't, not when there's a chance we can both get out of this alive."

"And if we survive just to witness the eradication of our people!?" Galadriel was silent, bowing her head. With a sigh, you asked, "Where's Nenya?"

"Safe with Elrond."

"Oh?" You chuckled. "How'd that happen? You have to break his finger off to put it on?"

Galadriel gave a breathy chuckle, "He needed a bit of convincing, but with the greater good at stake - he was left no choice."

With a smirk of amusement, you nodded slowly, then requested, "Could you promise me something decently reasonable?"

"I can try."

"If you make it outta here and I don't - "

"Do not say that!"

"Galadriel, just - stop for a moment and listen to me, please. If you get out of here and I do not, tell Elrond what happened. Tell him Adar found me after the volcano erupted, kept me prisoner, and that I tried." Tears brimmed your waterline, "Tell him I tried to escape, to get back to him... But if I don't make it and you do, please, tell him I love him - more than anything. Tell him I'll wait for him on white shores."

"Tell him yourself."

As promised, when night fell, Adar returned. His second in command, Glüg, approached you with a brandished sword and laid it at your neck with a cruel and twisted expression.

"Have you made your decision?" Adar questioned, Galadriel looking between him and the threat to your life. "Choose wisely, or I'll let my children bleed her; right here, right now. Tell me what I've asked."

"Don't tell him shit, Galadriel!" You barked in a last ditch effort, earning a balled-up-armored fist to rock your jaw. You spit a glob of blood to the side, snarling at Glüg, "You hit like like a bitch." He spit on you.

With a huff, Galadriel exposed, "Yes, Halbrand is Sauron. He's in Eregion to craft Rings that will allow Him to dominate my kind... And yours."

"Every kind in Middle-earth," Adar corrected.

Quickly, Galadriel rushed, "But He will not attempt escape until His task is complete. And that gives us a momentary advantage."

"'Us'?" The Father repeated.

"Unlock me."

"Galadriel! Think for a second!" You snapped, but Glüg pressed his blade deeper into your throat. You seethed, frustrated and angry tears turning suffocating. Adar approached your friend, eyes trained on her, causing the Elleth to look away in discomfort as Adar undid the iron cuff on Galadriel's wrist.

"As we speak, Y/N's husband, Elrond, hastens from Lindon with an army of Elves..." She boldly looked at Adar, you struggling against the blade at the sound of Elrond's name, "And Nenya, my Ring."

"Galadriel! Stop, don't say another word! Silence yourself!" You begged, whimpering shrilly when blood flowed from Glüg's disgustingly dirty blade.

"I see," Adar turned from the Elf.

You were ignored and Galadriel rose from her seat, following Adar while continuing, "Once he arrives, he will seal off the city, loose Celebrimbor from Sauron's grasp, and then together... Uruk, you and I will eradicate all trace of Sauron from this world. Never to return."

"And what then?" Adar questioned.

"Any Ring that have known his touch must be destroyed."

"I meant, what then for the Uruk? Will your High King permit us to return home in peace? Or will he proceed with his plans to invade Mordor? The shadow has not only overcome you, it has overcome all of Elvendom. In the end, your drive to prove your virtue will work right into Sauron's designs."

"You speak lies," Galadriel whispered as if in disbelief. "Hoping I will reveal something."

"You have already revealed everything I hoped you would and more."

You groaned and tossed your head back into the beam; a harsh thump echoing as Adar charged out of the tent with Galadriel and Glüg on his heels.

"Where are you taking her!?" Galadriel struggled in her restraints, unable to stray far from her seat as two Orcs entered the tent and began unclipping your irons. You didn't fight them, rolling your tired eyes as they began dragging you out on your backside. "NO! NO! Where are you taking her!?" Galadriel sobbed, on her feet, trying to follow.

"Remember your promise," you told her, forcing yourself to find contentment that your friend could be the last friendly image your brain would register.

"No, please! Please! You will not profit from her death! I have told you what your Father wanted, now release her! Her death will not profit you, but instead, will bring about your utter ruin! Please! Y/N!"

The Orcs ignored Galadriel's pleas, dragging you from the tent and amongst the snarling, snapping Orcs. Adar stood before a cart big enough for a single prisoner, smirking, giving his children command in Black Speech to load you inside. He watched, telling you, "Galadriel says your husband is on his way with an army. Surely, the sight of his wife might give Commander Elrond pause. The knowledge that you're alive will bring him to my table."

You were strung up by your arms, spread in exposure, tarps thrown over the cage to effectively cut you off from the rest of the world. You felt the cage rattle as you were lugged through mud. You couldn't identify hardly anything... Until a familiar horn bellowed in the short distance, making your chest tighten. While excited by the prospect of a rescue, you loathed the idea of Elrond running head first into a trap.

Your Elven ears picked up on the sound of thundering horse hooves, knowing your people (kin, too) were charging towards Adar's army; who were swiftly gathering in organized ranks. Your cage came to a halt, and a moment later, you flinched when the front-facing tarp was ripped down and the light above Eregion glared down on you. You were greeted with the sight of your husband surging closer on horseback, time seemingly slowing when your eyes locked and he registered who Adar's prisoner was.

You flinched when an Orc pressed the tip of their blade into your already injured neck, reopening a wound to send a single stream of blood steadily flowing.

"Halt!" Elrond called in Sindarin, the entire procession coming to an almost synchronized halt. He sized up the enemy, but kept letting his eyes glaze over you - disbelief coloring his expression. Elrond's horse stamped in place, Adar stepping forward to speak.

"Welcome, Commander Elrond."

"Y/N!" A voice shouted from the army, Elrond's head snapping over in time to see your siblings - three brothers, two sisters - dismounting their horses.

"Wait, wait!" Elrond barked at them, holding a hand up; your siblings halting themselves.

"Wise," Adar taunted, your irons noisily rattling when you tried to adjust your stance.

In Sindarin, you called to your eldest brother, "Do what needs done, do not spare my life for this foolishness! Take them down! Be done with it! Rid us of their filth!"

"I should think... Commander Elrond would like to hear my proposal first," Adar told you casually.

"I think they should put you and children in the dirt!" You spat, earning several snarls, growls, and hisses from the surrounding Orcs.

Elrond encouraged his horse forward, standing in the sunlight highlighting 'no man's land'. He glared at Adar, but asked you, "Are you hurt?"

"Only my ego," you assured.

His eyes flickered over to Adar, then nodded, "I will hear you first."

"You're wasting your time," you told him in Sindarin.

"On you, it's not a waste," he answered stiffly, almost angrily. "I would have her set free for the duration of our parlay."

"But of course," Adar agreed, being carted away at his Blackened command. Due to the tarps hanging over the other 3 sides of your prison, you lost sight of Elrond; forced to blindly follow instruction and behave.

The Elves were not permitted weapons in the Uruk camp.

Elrond dismounted his horse with Vorohil and your eldest brother, Iallion, who insisted on going to gauge your state, in time to watch the Orcs yank you from the cart and drag you into a tent as if your legs were of no use. It was all he needed to know to understand your treatment the past few months you've been 'missing'. His hand clapped Adar's shoulder before the Father of Orcs could pass him by, snarling, "If I come to learn you've been mistreating my wife, I assure you, there will be consequences."

Adar just chuckled and lead the way into his tent. Several Orcs shoved Elrond's shoulder and forced him, his second-in-command, and your brother to follow.

Inside, Elrond noted the walls lined with Orcs, all surrounding their prisoners of war - you and Commander Galadriel. The blonde Elleths were shackled to the same post, both standing, though, you were leaning into the beam for support as it appeared you could not stand on your own. When you noted their arrival, you perked up slightly, but not enough to wash away the worry he felt.

Elrond was offered a seat, just staring down Adar, who began, "The Ring you carry... Show it to me."

Elrond snarled, "Show me the care you've taken of my wife."

"She is perfectly healthy... As you can see. The Ring, Commander..."

Elrond glared for several long minutes, then answered, "A foolish act if I had brought it here."

"You are a courtier," Adar pointed out. "More suited to wielding a scroll than a sword."

"You've never seen me wield either."

"And yet," Adar's head cocked slightly, "I have faced the Incarnated and won. Beside Sauron, there's none alive... Entitled to those rights."

Iallion demanded in a snarl, "How came you by my sister? You say you won against her - where?"

"Didn't win a fucking thing! The bastards found me; facedown in volcanic soot after the battle with the Númenoreans. I told you to keep charging - you should've kept charging," you answered, earning a swift kick to the back of your knee; making it buckle and ram the post.

"Touch her again and I'll slaughter everyone in here," Elrond threatened.

"You so much as twitch - "

"And one of your children shall kill me? My wife? My men? You think I am not aware of that fact, do you honestly think I wouldn't risk life and limb for my wife? Do not. Touch. Her."

Adar just stared at Elrond, then nodded, "Fair enough. Though, if she speaks again... Cut out her tongue."

Elrond, Iallion, and Vorohil all sat forward when Glüg's blade chimed as it was deployed from the sheath; another couple Orcs shuffling and snarling forward to box you in. Your eyes rolled when the same dagger pressed unforgivingly to the pulse point beneath the hinge of your jaw.

Adar continued, "Sauron is my enemy as much as yours... Give me what I need to defeat Him and let us be rid of Him."

"Is it not you that has done his bidding by laying siege to Eregion?" Elrond countered.

"Eregion has fallen into shadow... It belongs to the Deceiver now, as does every Elf within its walls."

"Not Lord Celebrimbor," your husband tried to refuted, desperate to believe there was still some good left to fight for.

"It was Celebrimbor himself who welcomed Sauron in. You cannot save him... You can...save...them," Adar explained, naturally making Elrond look to you still held at knife point. Galadriel was uncharacteristically silent, chained to the same post, facing one another. "It is an earnest offer... I suggest you take it," punctuated Adar before he rose from his chair. "And leave Sauron to me..."

"Right, 'cause that worked sooo well last time," you scoffed, making every Elven eye widen in surprised shock. "You're the reason He still lives, you're forcing us all to do your bidding and fight against Him!" When an Orc's hand rose in a sudden movement to grip your chin - intending to hold open so Glüg could amputate your tongue - you simply reacted out of panic by erratically whipping your head to the side in time to catch the Orc's hand. His pointer finger landed between your teeth, too slow on the draw; losing the finger to the single, incredible chomp as if a root vegetable.

The Orc screamed in pain, spitting the finger and causing black blood to coat your lips like sadistic make-up.

"Lord Father - "

Adar silenced Glüg with a hand in the air, the injured Orc being escorted from the tent; hissing at you in a way that made you smirk. The Father of Orcs glanced at you, demanding, "Quiet," before slowly moved around the banquet table. He complimented Elrond, "You have the beauty of your foremother, Melian of the Valar. If even a fragment of her wisdom is in your veins... You must know you cannot defeat me in battle. I will outmaneuver you... My forces outfight yours... And you will fall."

"Not before you have painted the sands of the Glanduin black," Elrond stood to meet Adar, "with the blood of your kin."

You smirked slightly, always having faith Elrond would choose responsibility over emotion - something Galadriel was increasingly struggling with and unable to master. Glüg lowered his blade when he heard Elrond's threat - thinking this war was meant to played with strategy, not overwhelming numbers that would discard Orcish life without thought or consideration.

Adar assured, "My children have endured cruelties your bravest couldn't bear to hear spoken aloud."

"Are you prepared to spend their lives so freely... Adar?" Elrond questioned, using the Uruk's name as if an insult. "Are they?" He asked the room, letting his eyes bore into those of few Orcs to truly drive his words and plant seeds of doubt.

Adar didn't respond, pausing, then demanding, "You may haggle over Galadriel... But it's the Ring for your wife's life. What is it to be?"

Elrond's eyes locked with yours, noting the way your head shook. He slowly stalked around Adar, his hand unsuspectingly unclipping the decorative detail of his cloak's shoulder broach. His teary gaze lifted to lock with yours, portraying his apology and grief, then turning to Adar, "Ask me on the field, when the neck with a blade against it is yours."

Orcs hissed.

"Very well," Adar accepted, sounding genuinely disappointed. "I suppose not all vows are kept sacred... I will meet you there... With your wife's head on a pike."

Elrond held Adar's attention, relenting, "If that is to be the way of things, I should like to bid her farewell."

Adar's eyes shifted to Glüg's over Elrond's shoulder, the Orc assuring, "He's unarmed."

Interesting, you mused to yourself, he saw Elrond's broach but doesn't report it? Perhaps this war caused tension among their legion - beginning to question the man they followed.

After Adar's nod, Elrond turned to approach the beam in record break time. "My love," he greeted softly, tears evident and ready to spill. You both just stared at each other, unable to accept or process being within proximity to one another after being apart for so long - and only now, reunited to say goodbye. "Forgive me," Elrond whispered in Sindarin.

"Win," you answered in a matching hushed volume. "And if you don't, meet me on white shores."

He nodded, hand lifted to caress your cheek in disbelief; shuddering at the feel of your flesh. "I've missed you past the point of words, my star," he frowned.

"No more than I you."

You snuggled into his hand, stomach lurching when he leaned forward to press his final kiss to your lips. It wasn't passionate, but something chaste for show only; your chained hands reaching to hold his free one as it was all you could reach. The broach's center was pressed to your palm, your tear streaking through grimy cheeks when he pulled back to rest his forehead on yours. "I love you," he swore.

"I love you, too," you whimpered, bottom lip trembling with emotion as Adar looked to the ground. You wished to say your acting skills were that good to be truly deceptive, but in reality, something in your intuition refused to let you believe you'd survive this.

Hating the look of devastation on your otherwise devastatingly beautiful features, Elrond leaned in again before hushing against your lips, "Be ready."

"Be smart."

Elrond nodded, kissed you one last time before pulling back. Almost as if in pain, he turned, unable to handle being so close so improperly; causing him to snap, "Iallion, Vorohil," who flanked his tail upon their exit of the Uruk tent.

You sniffled, leaning on the beam in exhaustion, still playing into the facade you thought Elrond was trying to silently communicate. You weren't defeated yet; the pin kept in your clenched fist to cause indentations from the star-point design.

Outside, Iallion and Vorohil questioned Elrond's confidence, being told a legion of Dwarves had been summoned to march to Eregion's aid; telling his second to guide the army to the battle while he held the city. Before trotting away, Elrond pulled on his helmet and told the two in Sindarin, "And it starts with the rescue of my wife and decimation of this camp."

You used Elrond's pin to pick Galadriel's lock first, insisting she had to flee before anyone caught you. She tried to refuse, something about loyalty or other, but you all but shoved her away from you and snarled for her to leave you.

"Elrond's near," you reminded her, "I'm not going anywhere."

"He's coming for you," she realized.

"Did you have any doubt?"

She chuckled, "I suppose not."

"Get out of here," you cocked your head, indicating she flee out the tent flap. You focused on your own lock as the sounds of invasion echoed around the camp. Praying Galadriel found a way to disguise herself, you struggled to unlock your irons; hearing someone rush into the tent behind you.

"You!"

An Orc was surging up to you in record time, bloody dagger in hand, twisted snarl curling his lip. You dropped the pin on accident, unable to retrieve it; but having enough mind to wait until the Orc was a foot from you, stepping back, extending your chains. The Orc slashed directly into the weakened metal, severing your bond, but the loss of tension made you flop backwards; rolling over your shoulder and onto your feet.

The Orc, ever graceful, hacked wildly at you; forcing you to go on the defense and dodge his attacks around the tent. Three more Orcs filed in; but however you might argue, luck was on your side for your brother, Iallion, came charging in with your sister, Eliriel.

"Y/N!"

You caught the sword your brother tossed, slashing the offending Orc's head from his shoulders as your siblings disposed of the other three enemies with ease.

Realizing the Orcs were vanquished (for now), you turned to your brother and raced into his embrace. He grunted and caught you, petting the back of your head before releasing and letting you hug your sister.

"Do you need medial aid?" Eliriel asked in worry, pushing hair from your shoulders to expose flesh - checking for any injury or bloody blemish.

"No - "

"Can you fight?"

"The day I answer no, you've permission to put me in the ground yourself," you scoffed, nodding at your brother. "You came back?"

"Elrond's leading the charge, they're razing the camp," Iallion explained, "otherwise he would've come himself."

"Where is he?"

"Come, we can find him," he insisted, eyes raking over you. "Sure you're all right?"

"Never better," you chuckled without humor, intent on holding the horrors you've experienced at the hands of your captors close to your chest. "Now, we gonna stand here and talk or go hunt some Orc?"

"YES!"

The Incarnated swarmed together in a protection fashion around you; a sibling shield, if you would, due to your lack of armor. Individually, the Incarnated were almost impossible to defeat, but together, they rivaled armies; exactly as the Valar intended. However, while fearsome in battle, you were still but a few and the Orcs were a grand-many; almost easily overwhelming any Elf they encountered.

Exactly why you were separated from them.

You faced against four different foes, turning as if dancing steps to something intimate; blade flashing in the sunlight, ringing as it clanged against blackened blades and rusted armor. It was easy to cut off your retreat or direction back to your siblings, forcing you back several yards as the Orcs swiftly closed in.

"Y/N! DUCK!" You heard from behind you; not thinking, just dropping like a sack of potatoes.

Horse hooves passed you, looking up in time to defend against another blade as Elrond engaged the others. You were both fairing decently until a moment of distraction - where an Orc swung his axe into Elrond's chest and knocked him from his horse - leaving an opportunity for your attacker.

With a scream, the Orc's blade sliced your chest in a deep slashing, managing to cut into your neck; blood starting to stream into your torn and tattered prison clothes. You were blinded by stinging pain, whimpering as your non-dominant arm curled across your chest as if gauze to lay over the injury; dominant hand occupied by your sword, defending yourself with weak whimpers.

One final hack made your sword arm collapse into the ground and for the Orc to stomp on your wrist to hold you there. You were pinned. The Orc laughed and sadistically reached down to swipe a grimy finger into your wound, causing you to hiss through teeth, only to lift his finger to his mouth and taste your life force. The sight alone made your stomach lurch, a panicked cry escaping your lips.

Elrond heard the enemy's laugh and lifted his head in time to see it lick your blood; noting your cry and position beneath the Orc. His face steeled into something beyond infuriation. The three Orcs that filled the space between you and he were quickly dispatched, Elrond engaging your attacker - letting you scramble backwards into a tree trunk for a front row viewing.

With a wild swing, Elrond swiped at the Orc; who reached up to grab hold of his helmet, which was freed when Elrond rolled from under him. The Orc swung, blade whistling; catching Elrond's cheek and sending him to the dirt, much to your worry. He glared at the enemy, wiping at his injury as the Orc growled, "I'm gonna spill her guts at your feet, Elf!"

Elrond's eyes flickered to you, taking the threat as credible; swiping the sword away, using a second blade to inflict injury before driving his longsword into the Orc's belly - driving him backwards into the basket of a trebuchet (or catapult). When pinned, Elrond drove his dagger into the Orc's sternum; leering over him in Sindarin, "Die."

Elrond yanked both weapons free and turned for the machine's mechanisms; yanking a rope and setting the trebuchet into motion. "No, no, no, no," the Orc begged when he realized what was happening; lifted off his feet only to be flung with the basket of rocks through the air, over the width of the Glanduin, and into the walls of Eregion.

Your husband wasted no time to drop the rope and turn for you; rushing forward and sliding to his knees beside your bleeding form. "Elrond, oh, my stars," you rushed with a bloody grin, reaching for him with your dominate hand as the other still tried to staunch your injury.

"I knew you weren't gone, I knew it," he breathed, taking your face in hand, "I'm so sorry, my love, I'm so sorry. I should've come sooner - "

"You got here right when you were supposed to," you assured, sniffling. "Have you - Have you seen Galadriel? I set her free, have you seen her?"

"Why was she not with you?"

"I sent her away, I wasn't sure how long I'd take to escape," you trembled, "then Iallion and Eliriel got me out."

"Why didn't you run?"

"I did..."

"No, away from the battle - "

"I ran to find you," you whispered, offering a sad smile. "Oh," you breathed, fingertip ghosting over his cut cheek, "that'll scar."

"It's nothing," he shook his head, "but yours isn't - I have to get you away from here - "

"There's no time," you rushed, "so, I need you to do something for me."

"Anything."

You swallowed thickly, "Clean your blade, put it in the fire."

Elrond's brows furrowed, glancing over his shoulder to see the trebuchet set ablaze by his men; the Orcs fleeing from the danger, leaving a rare opening. "I don't... Oh," his eyes widened, nodding and rushing to do as you bid. He cleaned his blade on his cloak as he sprinted to the burning machine; sticking his blade in, then returning to your side. "Can you stand?" He asked.

"If you can get me up," you nodded.

"C'mon, love," Elrond whispered, hands under your arms and hoisting you up the bark with a small grunt. "I've got you - "

"Elrond!"

He didn't think, just gripped the blade of his dagger and flung it in a fluid motion over his shoulder where you were staring. The weapon struck an approaching Orc in the throat; gurgling black blood as he went down, but Elrond didn't even bother to watch. He just returned his attention to you, "C'mere, starlight, I've got you."

"Commander!" A different voice shouted, your siblings rushing to the scene. Iallion, as the eldest, gave command to the others, "Circle - circle up! Get around them!" As the Incarnated surrounded you, Elrond was assisting you towards the flames. "Commander, orders, sir?"

"Stand guard," Elrond replied, easing you to your knees. "All right, my love," he paused, checking the blade, "think it's good?"

You nodded, "It's good. Just, uh... Aim, please."

He huffed, "As if I'd miss." He pulled his sword fully from the flames, the thin metal burning bright red; even sizzling subtly. "Ready?"

"Wait, wait," Eliriel bartered, finding a chunk of wood and placing it in your mouth. She lowered to her knees and hooked her arms around yours; restraining them behind your back in a vice. "Okay... Okay, good - do it, do it now, Elrond!" She begged, seeing blood flow a little more freely now that you weren't trying to plug the wound.

When your husband lowered the blade to your injury, you lost consciousness after screaming blood murder until air depleted from your lungs. The flesh was cauterized as cleanly as Elrond could manage, satisfied when he noted no weeping openings.

"Commander! What orders, Commander!?"

Elrond was torn between his wife and his company - but Iallion encouraged, "Go, brother. We'll get her somewhere safe."

With a scoff, Elrond shook his head and carefully pulled the wood from your mouth; gathering you off your sister and into his chest. "Where's safe anymore?" Elrond asked rhetorically in Sindarin, standing with you in his arms.

The camp was in complete disarray, Adar realizing the Elven Calvary had destroyed nearly everything in their path, almost to a barbaric extent. He would've questioned the displayed Elven bravery, but his mind knew better and reminded him he threatened Commander Elrond's wife... No wonder the camp was stamped into the ground.

The sun sank, darkness spread, and Adar listened to report after report, all confirming the Elves were fairing better than expected. Many Uruk lost their lives, more were injured, and the Orcs were encountering outmaneuvers no matter where they attacked.

Adar returned to the tent he left you and Galadriel in... Finding empty irons, no prisoners, and several of his children - dead. There was no confirmation as to who the wounds were from, but considering the swift yet strategically fatal injuries, he assumed the Incarnated had come to your rescue. Death was only graceful when dealt by their hands.

"Perhaps, Lord Father," Glüg reported, "we should sound the retreat. The Commander Elrond is formidable, angry over his wife's injuries..."

"No," Adar refused.

"He slaughtered half the camp to find her!"

"We do not retreat," Adar growled, making his son shy back a step. "Send him in..."

"He will kill our own kind!"

"Send. Him. In. Commander Elrond is on the battlefield, his wife smuggled away - "

"His wife is on the field, Lord Father! Khor saw her," Glüg gestured at his brother, who nodded vigorously at Adar.

"All the more reason... Send him in."

After your wound was cauterized, Elrond managed to find a horse and rush you a safe distance into the woods with Eliriel to guard you. Upon awakening, you were stiff with pain, but infuriated by the obvious delay in consciousness; rolling to your feet and testing the bounds of the near-fatal, scabbing wound.

"You can't go," Eliriel insisted, watching you stretch, "you'll tear open - "

"Adar kept me alive just enough for this moment, I have business to settle with him. I've been on the sidelines too long, sister," you snapped, "and injured or not, I will not leave Eregion to the darkness. There's still a chance - our people still fight. Will you join us? Or shall you turn tail, as our uncle did? Demote yourself?"

Your uncle, another Incarnated, had been a member of the original alliance of Elves against Sauron; one of the first to leave Valinor on a noble quest to Middle-earth. He was one of the reasons your kin had been blessed, but he's also the reason you know what happens if Incarnated refuse their Holy Calling... Facing Morgoth's apprentice was traumatizing beyond belief, your uncle leading alongside Galadriel's brother, Finrod, in many abattle. Yet Sauron's craft was vast, weaseling into your uncle's heart and brain to the point of insanity; so much so, that upon your uncle going AWOL, Finrod was slain in response.

Galadriel never blamed you nor other Incarnated; she blamed only Sauron, rationalizing he was who fucked up your uncle's head so much that the Valar took back their gift. A forfeited Incarnated was gazed upon with utter contempt until driven into exile, and even then, they aren't immediately granted immunity nor entrance into Aman, - or the Undying Lands - but instead, must plead for redemption. Needless to say, your uncle gave your kin quiet a public mess to rectify and it was a grave insult to throw such an accusation at an Incarnated.

"Sister?" You prompted.

From the dirt, Eliriel nodded and reached for your hand; allowing you to heave her onto her feet. "You'll need armor - do not argue!" She snapped with a pointed finger when your mouth opened. "Come."

Eliriel lead you through the woods at a mild pace as to not irritate your injury. Using the darkness to your advantage, you snuck around until happening upon a fallen Elleth who was about your size and body type. Swiftly, you took her armor with a prayer in Sindarin, securing it, then latching on her weapons belt.

"Ready?" You asked, seeing Eliriel nod. "Stay close."

"I'm older than you!"

"Then act like it!" You laughed over your shoulder, sprinting from the treeline and directly towards the fray taking place before Eregion's walls. You snatched a full quiver from a dead Elf, not stopping; plucking up an abandoned bow, still surging; then snatching whatever spent torch-arrows you could, doubly determined.

Blood transformed impacted dirt into a marsh; bodies littering the land, a city on fire, and Death permeating the air. Your sword sang with glee at each blow; injury holding strong, giving you fuller permission to move as you needed. When you raced into battle, you were an entirely different breed; purely animalistic, relying on your senses to cause the most damage. All you could process was you needing to kill.

You happened to be in the right place at the right time because just yards ahead of you, several jagged arrows thumped into your comrade, Rían's, body at varying angles. She swayed and dropped to her knees, revealing ahead of her, a small gaggle of Elves - Elrond included. Rían reached for a torch arrow as you noted the barrel of oil by the Grond and quickly connected the dots.

It was as if the Valar arranged it themself: where one Elf fell, an Incarnated steps up to assume responsibility without hesitation nor prompt. Three additional arrows struck Rían, who fell dead, and there you stood; causing your name to fall from your husband's mouth and for you to spring into action. Without hesitation, you ignite your own arrow, notch it, aim, then release before rushing towards Elrond; seven arrows impalied the place you vacated. "What're you doing here!? It's not safe!" Elrond demanded when you lowered to his level behind a barrier of dirt.

Your arrow found it's mark, catching the entire Grond and surrounding Orcs in a violently gnarly explosion. You smirked at your husband, anchoring him by his neck to place a desperate, messy, slippery kiss to his lips. On retraction, there came a loud, wet smooch sound; you nodding and answering, "Winning a war."

requesting rules and masterlist

TROP masterlist

[waterlooletterwrb]

WRITE WITH ME!

I will start, and you can use the reblog to continue this story however you desire! The idea is that post by post we do a longer story (but if you wanna post your version somewhere else feel free to do so, you just remember to credit me!).

The One rule: You can't gender the Elf!Reader character.

If you need, add more warnings to your post!

OTP: Mairon (Sauron) x Elf!Reader

Universe: Rings of Power / Tolkien

Warnings: main character death, angst, blood, "you can fix him" plot;

Summary: You're the one who stole the Dark Lord's heart, yet you're dying in his arms.

A Forbidden Promise

"Don't go. I — I cannot follow you there. You can't go. You can't go." His voice was frenetic, desperate in a way the dark lord never sounded. How could he not be? You're dying in his arms, the only sweet touch, warmth, love he's ever known. And he will never be able to follow you to Mandos. "Please, I will never be able to go with you there, please."

His plea sounds like he wants to go tho. A begging, maybe the first time in more than two ages that Mairon of the Maiar actually regrets his choices. In you he found his perfection. And now he would lose it. Was that the vengeance of the Valar?

You raise your weak hand, resting it on this face. With your thumb you wipe one of the tears from his cheek. Even now he is as beautiful as the first time you saw each other.

"I — I will come back. For you, I will come back." Your voice is not much more than an whisper. Yet, somehow you make a disbelieving smile appears on his lips.

"Who would give up paradise for me? For Sauron?" The name disgust you as much as it disgust him, and your face probably shows it because he sighs. "If you're leaving me, at least leave saying the truth. It's too... cruel to say it. For I never hoped before."

That makes you give him a pity sad smile. Ignoring the pain, you do everything you can to raise yourself. He holds you tighter, his warmth is what you need to concentrate even when your vision starts to fade.

"Mairon, endanya¹. Hear the last words of the one who stole your heart." This make you see for one last time the sweet smile that he only ever directed to you. "As I promised once, I will never lie to you."

He presses his forehead against yours. For the last time you breathe the same air. "So I dare to command you, Mairon or whatever name you desire to hear now: learn to hope." I little cry escapes your lips, and you feel his hands tremble where he holds you, for a moment you lose your mind and all you can hear is the blood dripping. It's a shame, his always beautiful tunics will forever be stained within your blood now.

Even so, he won't stop holding you. So you do everything you can to reassure him again. He needs to understand, he must believe.

"Learn to hope." You mumble. "For I shall return to you."

You no longer can see or feel, your hand falling from his face is the first sign you went to the undying lands. But you were right. And Mairon, Sauron, does not let you go. He holds you tightly, in a crying so long it's impossible to believe that that destroyed and devastated being was once Morgoth's heir.

The grief is too much and, when he finally let you, there's no one to hear but the wind while he whispers:

"I — I'm yours to command, endanya. I will hear whatever name you call me. I will do whatever you wish. I will hope — I will hope for you."

A promise and a threat. Because in his soul he knows; you were the only one that could stop what's coming for Middle Earth. You were the only one that could stop him.

So now even the wind hopes. You need to return.

••••••••••••••••

Endanya¹ = if i did the word correctly it should be quenya for "my love/my soul", but in a deeper way of calling the one you love "your everything". In my mind, when Sauron says it he is also telling that the reader is his light.

[cherryheairt]

Hi :)

I’ve had this headcanon for a while where thranduil, upon falling in love again, makes it quite obvious he feels strongly about reader but won’t push physical limits of affection quite yet. Due to him having been married before he wants to be sure the Gods approve of him falling in love/marrying again as to not cause ill intend to fall upon reader because of him not being in control of his carnal desires. Reader is oblivious to this and pushes/teases him relentlessly.

Might end in smut upon him knowing reader is safe and he may pursue them fully or just him saying fuck it I see no god but me down here lol

Or just might end in him teasing back big time n leaving reader high and dry (but maybe with an explanation lol we love some open communication ✨)

Thank you! And feel free to mix it up and or change ending I’d just love to see a take on this 🙂‍↕️

hello! I'm so sorry that its been forever since you submitted this. thranduil is a character that we only ever got to see in super serious king mode, and had little screentime at that so I wanted to think through his personality a lot. might be ooc

I personally don't know how to write smut, so I didn't include it. I hope that's okay.

The character will be named Myria (meer-rhea), but have no skin color, body shape, hair color, etc description. She is eleven though, if that matters.

👑

The Gods had long since forsaken Thranduil. After he lost his wife, Legolas' mother, the world seemed to darken along with his own attitude. He changed, and everyone in Middle Earth knew it. Legolas never grew up to know the kind and magnanimous person his father was before his late wife's death.

To him, and the world, Thranduil was a stoic and unforgiving King.

To all, perhaps, except Myria. Myria had been born not too long after Thranduil—in Rivendell. Though the two never met until well into adulthood, Myria liked to say that they hit it off well. Thranduil would never admit the same out loud.

Myria moved from Rivendell to Mirkwood for her studies, thanks to her friend Elrond's advisory, and had since lived there for thousands of years. Youthful as ever, Myria made it her unofficial duty to occupy the King of Murkwood's free time.

She had even befriended his only son, Legolas, despite their age gap. The young elf was approaching 3000 years old soon, and he swore that he was more mature than the she-elf that graced their halls.

Myria didn't mind the head shakes or comments from royal advisors, telling her to mind herself around their King. Thranduil had long grown used to it, anyway.

Myria made her way to his royal chambers, uncaring about her unpropriety with visiting without being called upon. This was their daily routine. Thranduil had his meetings before breakfast, then went back to his chambers to dine alone. Or, he would, if Myria wasn't always waiting right there at his table for him.

"What is for breakfast today, My King?" Myria asked jovially, perched upon one of his carved wooden chairs. Originally, there had only been one for himself, but he ordered a matching one to me made after the woman's incessant visits. Before there was a seat, she simply stood at the table. The thought bothered him, a tinging in the back of his mind telling him that she must be on the same level as him, at all times.

Thranduil's long flowing sleeves and cloaks followed behind him as he entered the room. "You ask this every day, Myr. And what is my answer every day?" He asks, though there is no bite to his words.

"That you 'do not know'. Quite amusing, the all-knowing King not knowing something so simple." She mused, scrunching her nose up at his tall frame.

He fought an amused eye roll, sitting in front of her. He poured himself a chalice of sweet red wine, sipping on it as he replied. "Simple, or trivial? I do not concern myself with such affairs, the food is brought to me and I eat it."

"Careful, Thranduil. That may one day get you poisoned." She mirrored his movements, having waited for him to start drinking.

"By whom? Yourself?" He chuckled darkly, amused at the prospect of such a thing. Mirkwood elves' loyalties ran deep, the chances of him dying suddenly from a cold where higher than dying of poison. "You are the only outsider residing here."

Myria 'hmphed' vehemently, lifting her nose at the accusation. "I hardly can be called an outsider these days. How long have I lived here? Four...five thousand years?"

"Five thousand, two hundred and thirty." He answered for her.

Shocked, she stared at him, mouth agape. "You know the exact year?"

"How could I not? That is the year when my life started to get ten times harder."

She snorted, shaking her head. "I disagree. I think it only got better."

Two servants entered the chambers, one plate in hand each. Platters were lifted to reveal the neatly presented food, a light breakfast of fruit and toasted bread.

Myria and Thranduil dug into it, a pleasent chatter filling the room. "What are your plans for today?" She asked him.

"Same as usual, final preparations for the Feast of Starlight. Though, there is a task I wanted to assign you–" Thranduil was interrupted by a guard rushing into the room. He lifted an unimpressed brow, staring the guard down for his brash action.

"Your majesty, a party of rogue Dwarves have been apprehended in the Mirkwood forest!" To this, Thranduil immediately stood and strided past the guard out of the chambers. Myria, struck by the news, eagerly followed in suite.

"You are not supposed to sit in on prisoners being interrogated, Myria." Thranduil told her sternly, knowing the sound of her light steps trailed behind his own heavy ones.

"When has that stopped me before?" She laughed. It had been a nearly a hundred years since she'd seen a dwarf, and much longer than that since one had been in the depths of the Elvenking's Halls. She was excited to see what brave adventurers had come, and survived the dark forest's curse.

Thranduil seated himself at the head of his lifted throne, elegant giant antlers rooting themselves out from behind the throne like a crown. The one perched on his head mirrored that, thick branches striking in contrast to his pure white hair. Myria took a moment to admire him from her spot at the base of the stairs. The guard next to her didn't even blink at her intrusion, knowing the relationship between the ward and the King was a complex one that even the elders didn't bother to deduce.

Myria stayed silent during the precedings, not moving an inch except to lean her head forward and inspect the Dwarves. The party was quite large, a whole gaggle of Dwarves were bravely setting off to reclaim Erebor's keep and defeat the dragon nested under it. The leader, Thorin, was quite handsome for a Dwarf, not that Myria would say so aloud. For all her teasings, that would surely be the tip of the iceburg for Thranduil's patience.

As the majority of the Dwarves were escorted to the dungeons, only Thorin was left in Thranduil's audience. She listened as Thranduil made his offer, then got rejected harshly by the Dwarven King. Screamed at, being told off by a life form deemed lesser than an Elf, Thranduil had enough. He sent the man away with a flick of his wrist.

As he slowly desended the steps after the dwarf 'king' was escorted away, Thranduil placed a hand on Myrias shoulder.

The cold rings on his hand raised goosebumps on the back of her neck and arms, shivering at the feeling. She cursed herself for wearing an off-shoulder dress, dressing herself for the nice weather that morning. If he noticed, Thranduil didn't say anything. But the tiny lift to the corners of his mouth said plenty. "Do not fraternize with the filth that dirties our halls."

Our halls. The brief words pleasently rung in the back of Myria's mind. She nodded. He knew her well, guessing that she would try to sneak into the dungeons during the feast to try to speak with the curious Dwarves.

He moved his hand down, resting it gently on the small of her back. "Let us go, the feast will not oversee itself."

👑

Myria and Thranduil lounged in his chambers, simply biding time until the Feast of Starlight had begun. Admist muted chuckles and jests, mostly from Myria, Tauriel entered the room. "You called for me, My King?" She bowed shortly. "I have come to report to you." Tauriel glanced briefly towards Myria, nodding when she lifted a goblet towards her silvan friend.

"I thought I ordered that nest to be destroyed." Thranduil said, voice taut with frustration. The spiders had been plaguing their forest for years now, unrelenting.

"We cleared the forest as ordered, my Lord." The woman insisted. "But more spiders keep coming from nests in the South. If we could kill them at their source–"

"That fortress lies beyond our borders. Your orders are to keep our lands clear of those foul creatures. That is your task."

"And when we drive them off, what then? Will they not spread to other lands?" Ever the bleeding heart, Tauriel worried for other people.

"Other lands are not my concern." Thranduil said coldly. "The fortunes of this land will rise and fall. But here in this kingdom, we will endure." As had been the way for thousands of years. Thranduil insisted that Mirkwood keep to themselves, not needing or offering help from any others.

Tauriel nodded stiffly, excusing herself from the King's presence. Before she left, however, he spoke again. "Legolas said you fought well today. He has grown...fond of you."

She paused, thinking his words over carefully. "I assure you my Lord, Legolas thinks of me as no more than captain of the guard.

"Perhaps he did once. Now, I'm not so sure." Thranduil pushed.

"I did not think that you would allow your son to pledge himself toward a lowly silvan elf." She responded, voice slightly hopeful.

Myria leaned forward, too, curious of his answer. Would he allow his heir to love an elf with no royale blood?

"You are right, I would not." Thranduil chuckled humorlessly at the thought of it. Myria bit her tongue, hurt by the comment indirectly. She was no common-born Elf, sure, but had no royal blood to speak of either. She deflated in her seat, drinking down the rest of her wine. "Do not give him hope where there is none."

Is that what Thranduil had been doing for Myria, merely giving her hope? Slivers of special attention, with no intentions of truly loving her. She stood from her seat, leaving the chambers without a word.

Tauriel, too, left quickly after that.

Thranduil stood alone in his chambers, looking at the spot where Myria had once been.

👑

The feast came and passed quickly, Myria in no mood to sing or dance like she usual did at such events. She attended for the sake of politeness, leaving when she had greeted enough people for the night.

She spend the rest of it wallowing in her chambers.

Word got out that the entire party of Dwarves escaped, and Myria silently applauded them for their boldness. She hoped, for their sake, that they were successful in freeing their home.

Days passed, and news of Smaug's death had spread to every corner of Middle Earth. Thranduil was quick to organize his army to march toward Erebor, wasting no time to retrieve his precious gems. Myria had come along on her own white elk mount, following behind Thranduil silently, if only to satiate her curiosity. Last time they had come, Thranduil had rejected the Dwarves' desperate plea for help. This time, he came to declare war if they refused to return his gems.

The damned gems. Always on his mind. True, they were a physical reminder of his late wife and Queen. But it seemed as though he dwelled on them more than he cherished her memory. He did not speak of her, ever. Even to his own son, his wife was but a ghost haunting the halls.

Myria couldn't begin to understand the loss of a spouse, but she did understand that he was too caught up in himself.

Even though she had little intention of fighting the Dwarves, Myria still brought a dagger and bow on the march. Could never be too careful, Thranduil always reminded her. She guided her elk to stand behind his, watching him greet the human leader stiffly. It was almost laughable how mad his manners were, his kingly presence deemed to good for polite small talk.

Myria had been given a temporary quarter near Thranduil's, their tents close as they usually were. He had been too busy to notice her absence lately, both to her joy and displeasure. She missed his daily warmth around her, but knew it was best to distance himself from him. Just this last journey, then she sould go back to Rivendell to live out the rest of her long and lonesome life.

Thranduil plotted with the human leader, Bard, and a wizard by the name of Gandalf. Myria wandered the decrepit town while they did, having no place in war council, nor did she wish to.

By the time she had returned, night had fallen and all the humans of the town were asleep. Myria ducked into her tent, desperate for some solid rest before a potential battle on the morrow. She was surprised to see Thranduil sitting awkwardyl on her cot.

"Thranduil? What are you doing here, you should be resting." Myria insisted, brow furrowed.He stood at her entrance, possibly being left waiting for quite a while.

"I wished to see you before we go to Erebor's gates in the morning. I suspect that the Dwarf will have something up his tiny sleeve. I know you are a capable fighter, but I want you to stay in town tomorrow just in case."

She protested sharply, "I am just as much a fighter as any elf in your army. I will not sit around and wait for you to return–"

"Please, Myria." He rested both of his hands on her shoulders, looking down at her with his deep blue eyes "I could not focus if I knew you were behind me somewhere. If I know you are safe, I can retrieve the jewels easier." Always about the jewels. He should have married them, she thought bitterly.

"Is that an order?"

"It is a request. From a friend." Thranduil said softly.

Myria bit her cheek, crossing her arms. "Fine. I will stay here on the morrow. But, if any fighting breaks out, I will join."

He seemed content with her answer, knowing its as far as he'll get with her stubbornness. "Very well, I'll see you when this is over." He planted a tender kiss to the top of her head before he left to his own tent.

👑

Myria could only watch from afar as negotiations with the Dwarves had clearly gone to shit. More dwarves had shown up, an entire army to match the Elves' golden one. Myria rushed back to grab her bow, bursting out of her tent to the sound of screams in the town. Surely the Dwarves wouldn't target the women and children who had stayed behind?

She was right. It was orcs who had invaded the town, cutting off exits as they slashed through defenseless crowds of people. Myria rushed to help whoever she could, shooting down orcs' fat heads whenever they got too close to a fleeing human. With her dagger, she slashed through whoever she could reach to retrieve each of her arrows.

This arduous process repeated for some time, Myria panting with effort as she continued. The sounds of screams toned done as golden-armored soldiers flooded into the cobble streets and started to push back at the beastly creatins. Myria breathed a sigh of relief, engaging another orc. It was larger than most, with armor protecting its head and chest. She slashed at his with a sword she had taken from dead enemy, yelping when he stabbed into her abdomen with his own weapon. She gasped, trying to keep her composure as he approached above her menacingly. As he lifted his sword above his head again, ready to strike down the Elf, his head was detached from his body in a spray of hot blood.

Myria flinched at the feeling on her skin, feeling disgusted more than she already was with the sweat and dirt covering her. Thranduil came from behind the orc, who was now dead on the floor. He crouched down in front of her, a frantic look in his eye that betrayed his regal appearance. "Myria, look at me!" He shouted, her blurry vision shakily focusing on him. He held her face in his hands, watching her try to keep them open. "It's okay, I'll get you help." Thranduil promised her, gingerly lifting her up princess style. He flinched when she protested in pain, clutching at her stomach to stop the blood from gushing out.

"It's okay, you'll be alright, sweet." He told her, repeating himself multiple times as if to convince himself, too.

He brought her outside of the town, where Elven medics had set up a discreet few tents disguised to the orc's vision by Elven magic. The King layed her gently on a stiff cot, petting her hair comfortingly as she screamed in pain at the medic disinfecting and stitching her wound up. He glared at the Elf assigned to help her, making the poor young fellow sweat in fear of messing uo in front of his King.

Eventually, the sounds outside died out. Thranduil regretted taking his forces to this pit of death. He had lost more Elves today than had ever been lost at one time since the Great War. Elves did not die easily. This was a massacre of great damage to their ranks, to their people. Thranduil mourned the deaths of his kin dearly.

Myria had calmed, pain dulling when given some numbing herbs. She focused her attention on Thranduil, "you came for me." She said, voice barely a whisper.

"Of course, I did. Why wouldn't I?" He asked, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

"Your gems...they're still locked away in the keep, aren't they?" She asked.

"The gems are not my priority. They are merely objects, remembrances. You are alive, I need you."

Myria felt tears blurr her vision, clamping her throat shut. "But–I am not from any important bloodline. I am not a Princess, nor—"

"I do not care. You are Myria. The woman who has been by my side for five thousand years. The only lady worthy of being Queen by my side is you."

Thranduil took her into his arms as she cried. He shushed her gently, hands locked into her hair as she clung to him.

"I love you, Thranduil. I have for a long, long time."

"And I, you, my dearest Myr."

[criticallyinneedofadar]

Hi! I love your writing! Are you able to do a Elrond fic with a mage elf reader from a different land where their ears are longer & was raised with human commoners? Maybe she's been hiding with Bronwyn and the south landers? (they don't trust Halbrand, he reminds her of the nobles she used to know) Just a meet cute would be lovely, maybe in Eregion? Thanks, keep up the fantastic writing ♥️

I haven't forgotten about my asks! It's just taken me some time to give them all the time they deserve!

This is adorable and I had so much fun writing it!

Side note: For the purposes of this ask, we are saying that the Noldor have longer ears and some split off to stay around the humans in the southlands. Does it follow Tolkien lore? No. But that's okay. Don't take it too seriously :)

A Promise at the Gates

The air smells faintly of woodsmoke, a ghost of the battle that razed Tirharad to its foundations. You stride through the remnants of the village, your boots kicking up ash that clings to the hem of your cloak. The cries of children and murmurs of despair echo as displaced humans cluster around their leader, Bronwyn. Your friend.

She stands with her shoulders straight, her face a mask of calm determination. You marvel at her resilience; the humans have lost so much, and yet Bronwyn remains steadfast.

"I’ll journey to Eregion," you announce, breaking into her thoughts.

Bronwyn’s sharp gaze fixes on you. "Are you sure? The road is dangerous, and the elves…" She hesitates. "They may not listen."

You smirk, though your heart aches for her doubt. "They’ll listen to me. I’m persuasive."

She huffs out a laugh, and the two of you share a moment of fleeting warmth. But your gaze flickers to Halbrand, standing apart from the others. His every move prickles your instincts—his easy charm, his watchful eyes, the way he avoids questions with a grin.

"I still don’t trust him," you mutter.

"Neither do I," Bronwyn admits. "But he helped us."

"Did he, though?" you counter, your voice low. Your past whispers in your mind—smiling lords who lied with their teeth and betrayed with their blades. Halbrand reminds you of them.

But Bronwyn shakes her head, her focus resolute. "If he means harm, we’ll deal with it. For now, we must find shelter."

And so, you go, leaving the humans behind to gather their meager belongings.

+++++

The road to Eregion is long, winding through the wildlands of Middle-earth. You keep to yourself, avoiding caravans and curious humans. The journey gives you time to think—perhaps too much time. Memories surface, unbidden, of the great halls of your kin, where politics wove tighter snares than any spider’s web.

By the time you arrive, the walls of Eregion gleam in the sunlight, and its beauty takes your breath away. Fine craftsmanship blends seamlessly with the natural world, an unmistakable mark of the elves who dwell here. Yet it’s not the architecture that catches your eye—it’s the figure waiting just beyond the gates.

"Mae govannen," he says, his voice like a song. He is tall, with a poise that speaks of both wisdom and kindness. His dark hair shines in the light, and his eyes—those eyes—seem to look straight into your soul.

You hesitate, and his brow furrows slightly. "You are a traveler, yes? Seeking refuge or passage?"

"I’m seeking aid," you reply, your voice steady. "For the people of Tirharad."

His lips quirk upward at her name. "Ah, the human settlement. I cannot say I have heard much of anything from the southlands." He places a hand over his heart in a gesture of respect. "I am Elrond Peredhel. Please, come inside."

You nod, falling into step beside him as he leads you through the city.

+++++

The warmth of Eregion’s halls is a balm to your weary soul. You are ushered into a sitting room, where wine and fruit await. Elrond pours you a glass himself, his movements unhurried.

"You are Noldor, are you not?" he asks as he offers the drink.

You incline your head. "You know us by our ears, I assume."

His smile softens. "They are distinctive, but there is something else. A certain… informality in your bearing. It is refreshing."

You laugh, a genuine sound that surprises even you. "Is that your way of saying I lack decorum?"

"Not at all," he replies, his tone earnest. "It is a compliment."

The conversation flows easily after that. You speak of Bronwyn’s plight, of the humans displaced by war and the help they desperately need. Elrond listens intently, his gaze never wavering. When you finish, he nods thoughtfully.

"Eregion’s resources are strained, they are not equipped to send out vast quantities of supplies," he admits. "But I will speak with the High King.  No one should be left to suffer, not while aid is within reach."

His words ease a tension you hadn’t realized you were carrying. "Thank you," you say, meaning it.

But as the evening wears on, you find yourself watching him not as an emissary, but as a friend. There’s a warmth to him, a quiet strength that draws you in. And when he smiles at you—a real, unguarded smile—it feels like the sun breaking through the clouds.

The days that follow blur together. You work closely with Elrond, planning the logistics of transporting supplies to Tirharad. The more time you spend with him, the more you realize how different he is from the elves you knew in your youth. He is kind, yes, but also clever and quick-witted, with a knack for putting others at ease.

One afternoon, as you pore over maps in his study, he leans back in his chair and regards you with a curious expression.

"You are unlike any Noldor I’ve met before," he says.

You arch an eyebrow. "Is that a compliment or an observation?"

"A little of both," he admits, his lips twitching into a grin.

You tilt your head, studying him. "And you, Elrond Peredhel. You’re unlike the other elves I’ve met. You seem to carry the weight of two worlds on your shoulders, yet you never falter."

He looks away, his smile fading. "It is both a gift and a burden to be of two peoples. I strive to honor them both, but it is not always easy."

For a moment, you see the vulnerability beneath his polished exterior, and it makes your heart ache. Without thinking, you reach across the table and place your hand over his.

"You do it well," you say softly. "Better than most could."

He meets your gaze, and something unspoken passes between you—a connection that feels as ancient and unshakable as the earth beneath your feet.

The day of your departure arrives too soon. Bronwyn’s people need the supplies, and you cannot linger, no matter how much a part of you wishes to stay.

Elrond walks you to the gates of Eregion, his expression unreadable.

"Will you return?" he asks, his voice quiet.

You hesitate, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. "If the road leads me here again," you say, "I will not stray from it."

He smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "Then I will wait. Until the road calls you back."

You step closer, your heart pounding. "And if it doesn’t?"

His gaze locks with yours, and for a moment, the world falls away. "Then I will find it myself."

The words hang between you, a promise and a hope. You don’t say goodbye; it feels too final, too cruel. Instead, you turn and walk away, the weight of his gaze following you long after the city disappears from view.

As you journey back to Tirharad, your thoughts linger on Elrond—on his kindness, his strength, and the way he made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t been in centuries.

You smile to yourself, the memory of his voice echoing in your mind. Perhaps, someday, the road will lead you back to Eregion. Or perhaps, as he promised, he will find you first.

[itsjustmaddy]

Eltingville OC intro!

Hey! So, I mainly post OC stuff on TikTok for eltingville, but I'm gonna start on here, so here's an introduction to my Eltingville OC!!

Background

She's pretty much a self insert but also not at the same time (ikkk that's embarrassing but wtv🥲) She's the secretary of anime, and the only reason she's allowed in the club is because she's known them all since they were kids. When she was about 7 over the summer a month or 2 before school started, her family moved into a new house, and she became Bills neighbor. She saw him playing outside one day, he had a Batman ball and had a Batman shirt on. She was also wearing a batman shirt, and they became friends. They'd always go over to each other's houses and watch Batman stuff. Then, that school year, she met the rest of the club members, and when they formed the club in middle school, she was the only girl they let in. If she didn't know them for as long as she did, they definitely wouldn't have let her in.

Here's her little intro thing! It's kinda old and I'm not that happy with it but wtv it shows her interests and stuff so.. anyway I don't have a last name for her yet so that's why it's just "***"

Relationships:

Simple for now

Extra random stuff:

Voice claim: Mae Whitman, specifically as Katara in Avatar

Prob has a femcel setup, like super sonico figures and shit, I mean hey, she can't be completely unproblematic being in the eltingville club, right?

Her dnd character is prob an elf or mage, idk man I don't play dnd lol. But anytime they all play, they always make her the damsel in distress. Bc of they do.

Def plays otome games

Is abt 5'5, her and bill are close in height

Anyway, that's it for now. Feel free to ask questions!! <3

[naok-iyuu]

So much for a normal Christmas - Benny Weir x F!reader

Summary : When Benny tries to cheat to get your name for the secret santa... Karma is coming back to get him.

Word count : 3.9k Warnings : A bit of swearing

Masterlist

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"What were you thinking !?" Your voice resonned in the Morgan's house as you tried to catch what looked like a little, mischievous and nerves wreaking christmas elf.

"How could I even guess Santa Claus minions would come straight to me for revenge ?! Maybe I was just trying to get your attention from your vampire bodyguard !" Benny grunted, following by a ears destroying squeal when one of the tenth little monsters tried to come crashing headfirst into him.

"What do I have to do with this ? Hey do you guys really think we can't eat those ?" Rory questioned as a flying elf bolted right in front of him, narrowly escaping his hands.

"NO !" Everyone angry, frustrated voice made the blond jump.

"How do we even get them in that little cage ?" Sarah whined in vain, smashing a little guy that tried to go for Benny from the other side of the room with a pan. She gasped loudly at the sign of the troublemaker knocked out on the floor. "Oh shoot I really hope I won't get in trouble for that."

Ethan helped her by slightly and scarely taking the feet of the elf between his fingers, throwing the doll like body in the cage Benny's grandma entrusted them with.

"Wait, 'have two." Rory threw two others in the iron prison.

"We are never doing a secret santa ever again !" You voiced.

. . .

Your finger reached the Morgan's doorbell as Rory, yet again, got distracted by a cat he named on the spot. Luckily you were here to call back your best friend on duty.

"Hey vampy buddy, stay with me."

"Oh yeah sorry, cats really are neurons eating monster. If you don't count zombies, but zombies eat the brain. Well neurons are in the brain but you get it."

You chukled at his words, always amazed by Rory's brain and his ways to see things. You knew the trio of nerds since middle school, but you had to admit that a real, strong frienship only blossomed between you and Rory. Ethan and Benny already had each other to call themself best friends, you, you now had your favorite blond comic fan.

At first, for the boys, you were Rory's surprisingly cute'n'hot best girl friend. Something they couln't quite believe in and something Benny could get his head chopped off for, if he had the persistent idea to flirt too much in presence of Rory.

Your bond with Ethan, Benny and Sarah only grew stronger when, thank god he didn't get suck dry, Rory got transformed into a vampire. Leading to him yapping about all of his other friends secrets to you. No point in keeping you in the dark after that.

Tonight was a movie night with the boys and everyone's favorite babysitter's, Sarah, where you all agreed to draw your names for a secret santa.

The door opened, showing a breathless Ethan with right behind him, a as much breathless Benny. Were they fighting to know who was going to open the door ?

"Wow ! Did you guys just played tag ?" Rory smiled widly.

"No ?" Breathed out Ethan while clinging with his right hand on his ribs, nerds skill.

"Oh too bad, it seemed funny." On those words, the vampire entered the house to greet Sarah and Jane.

You soon followed a few of his steps, greeting Ethan who closed the door behind you. Stopping next to Benny in the entrance hall, you weren't going to let him off of your joke hook.

"Did you guys just faught to open the door ?"

"Faught ? Come on I am a gentleman, of course I let him open his own door." His sentence got cut a few times by his breathing trying to compose itself.

You scoffed at him. "So you did fight."

"We agreed like educated people." His head, tilting, got another slight chuckle out of you. It seemed like, even if he didn't get to beat Ethan when racing to the door, his words always found a way to make you laught.

You liked Benny. It wasn't a secret to anyone but him, and maybe Rory who seemed to forget about that fact very often. Thanks to that he never let a word slipped out. You never planned on making a move, you were not confident enought even if there was a hundred pourcent chance of a positive response. Yet, the fact that this dork head liked to flirt with almost all of the girls at school kind of gave you the cold shoulder about telling him one day. You didn't want to be an option.

That negative thought stuck to your skin like an oyster on a rock.

"Wanna order the pizzas with me. I promise I don't bite, but those people over there do." His finger pointed mockingly yet accusingly at the position of the vampires on Ethan's sofa.

"Alright, it's true that I am much safer with the level one Merlin."

The dramatic expression your words created was quickly washed away by a roll of his eyes. "But still Merlin." His wide, implicit eyes agreed to be called the name of one of the most powerful wizard only to see your head shake in an amused exasperation. His giddy and grinny smile hid itself from your eyes as his body made its way to the kitchen.

Benny's hand rested on the Morgan's kitchen island along with his waist, the other one grabbed his phone readying his finger to dial the pizzeria phone number. You took a sit on one of the available chair, preferably near the spell master while hoping he would be too engrossed in his pizza craving to notice you. But if Benny was good at something, it was noticing you.

"We already choose what we wanted to order, last one is you. I swear on my Jedi's honor that i won't judge your taste in pizza." His phone touched his chest as his hand performed the right gesture to seal his words.

"Those are big words, swearing on a Jedi's honor."

"Means I am really serious."

You mimicked him, placing your right hand above the area of your heart. "And I swear on my Jedi's honor... That I will totally judge your taste in pizza."

Another dramatic hurting expression painted his face as his body sunk toward the floor before getting up again, muttering an audibly and fakely injured 'Really ?'

And again, you chuckled at his attitude. Your thoughts made you feel self-aware for a few passing seconds, what if your attitude was too much ? You weren't doing it on purpose but what if he noticed and felt something you wouldn't want to think about, not even for the slightest amount of time. You quickly dropped your own moral-destructive train to get back into the conversation.

"I'll take a cheese pizza, if they do them."

"Worse breath than the garlic ones."

"Hey where do the 'I won't judge' went ?"

He raised his free hand in surrender, bringing his phone to his ear after typping a number he knew like his back pocket.

"I bet you are going to choose a basic aah one like the basic pepperoni." His eyes concentrated on you after your words, his nose wrinkling in disapproval. Your voice made itself quieter. "Told 'ya I would judge."

He greated the person on the phone before enumerating your order, Ethan's and finally his. He mentally hesitated to change his choice of food for the night after your sentence, being fully aware you would be too delighted for the rest of the movie on your guess. "And... I'll take a basic pepperoni pizza."

Your gasp resonated in the whole kitchen, making Benny jump from his spot and widen his eyes in surprise. You celebrated quietly after this overjoy reaction, your fists doing a little dance near your face in contentment. "I knew it."

Benny's head tilted to the side opposite of yours before turning completely to look at a distant wall. You couldn't see his reaction, too excited by being a fortune-pizza-teller of some sort. His hand stroked his neck, feeling the base of hair on his nape. It traced a way to his face, rubbing his cheeks, nose and eyes to erase any trace of redness or anything that could scream 'Hey, funny story but I have the biggest crush on you and I don't know what do to about it. Even funnier when you know that I used to flirt with every freaking bush around school-". Yeah, he didn't want to be called out, at least not right now with his phone plastered against his ear, and not when he recited his usual warning so the pizza would arrived quickly.

"Come on guys, we're gonna draw !" Rory's head popped in the kitchen, making Benny jumps while you only moved your head to look at the vampire.

"We're coming." You smiled at your over excited best friend, getting down your spot.

Following the path the blond took you stopped a second to look behind you, eyes meeting the green ones of Benny who had straightened his back from the kitchen island. His well known giddy smile plastering itself on his face when a slight excitement flowed in his chest under your gaze.

Dazed by the reality you had been caught, his attention already on you, your face grew a deep shade of red before avoiding any more eye contact by quickly taking place on the sofa next to Rory.

Entering the living room, Benny eyed the jar filled with folded papers which kept each one of everyone's name. A quick glance at Ethan, another at Sarah and his fingers magically wiggled as his quiet voice recited a spell in a language even him couldn't quite pronounce right.

Discreetly and silently, one little paper made its way on top of its white kind. The spell master felt a rush of adrenaline and excitement at the witness of his, for now, successful spell.

"So, who wants to pick first ?" Ethan looked at everyone with a thin smile.

Benny's hand jerked upward at light speed, stealing the spotlight from an enthusiastic Rory who tried to go first. "I'll do, let me take that."

He didn't leave any time for anyone to disagree, his hand catching the precious paper that, should, had the name he desperately wanted. This Secret Santa was the best way for the brunette to win your heart with a good prepared and pampered gift, he wasn't going to miss his shot.

"Ok...ay... Well who's next ?" The seer tried to advert the attention from his, really, and daily, weird best friend.

Benny hands kept his treasure near his chest as eveyone watched him with big eyes and concerned faces. Unfolding the paper, his forest green eyes finally caught your handwritting. (Y/n). Raising his tightly closed fists near his face, teeth biting his lower lips, he celebrated his personal win silently. Getting caught now wasn't an option and neither was explaining why he cheated on the Secret Santa, even though he could quickly come up with something.

When everyone finally got assigned a name, they decided to let you choose the movie. Benny made its way on the sofa when you happily stood up to fetch a DVD you had meticulously slipped into your handbag before leaving your house, sitting on the other side of the spot you called your own next to Rory.

"What did you brought ?" Benny's voice caught your attention and you threw at him the DVD's jacket, sliding the CD in the DVD player.

He catched it and a long groan rumbled in his throat. "Of course you choose the first X-Men movie."

"Oh come on dude, it might not be the best but it is still X-men." Rory defended you without realising it.

"She only took it to squeal over Logan. What's the point when there is already an handsome man sitting right next to her ?" His sulking face looked at you, his giant hands pointing at him with obviousness as you took your beloved sit between the blond vampire and the spellmaster.

"I am not taking any criticism."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Nobody could ever guess the mess Benny got himself into when cheating for the Secret Santa. Evelyn could have told him if for once she knew what her grandson was up to.

It started when the brunette got home after the movie night where he desperately tried to slide his arm around your shoulder to advert your attention from the annoyingly ripped actor.

He heard the characteristic sound of glass jar bumping into one another. Not something he considered to be much alarming.

The next morning, his room was a mess as papers had flown and covered every inch of his bedroom floor. Benny's room wasn't always the cleanest, but right now, it was overly messy. And why the hell was all of his tied up homework on the floor too ? He had put these ones in his school bag. Yet what trully made him think of calling Ethan while crying was his precious books and figurines dead laying on the floor.

Something was up. Money always seemed to disappear from his bag, his favorite shirts were covered in yogurt or tomato sauce, and now even his grandmother special priestess work-room always seemed to be a mess. Things were out of place and some jars ended up empty by the next morning. Something she gave him a raised eyebrow about, and something Benny was soon going to understand the word trouble for.

Maybe did he finally brought it up to his seer best friend when the gift he had prepared for you disappeared.

Bursting through Ethan's door, Benny seemed in a rush.

"Tell me you didn't mess with a dead dog or anything..." Ethan voice asked with an already very tired expression.

"I promised not to mess with any dead creatures again ! But ! I am sure that something is messing with me, and not in a pleasant way."

"Like what ?"

"Dude my things always vanish or end up broken on the floor. I lost 3 figurines already !" His voice whined.

"Oh waw that's a really serious matter indeed." His lips pressed in a thin line, he nodded his head with wide eyes.

"Wha- Are you making fun of me ?"

"Not in the slighest."

That when they heard it, a quiet, evil giggle. Followed by suspiciously moving object. Ethan placed his index against his lips, urging Benny to keep quiet.

Slowly, calculating his footsteps, he made his way to the sound before quickly pulling toward him with his hand the family portrait hiding the stressful sound.

He saw it, a hand tall elf, foot in the air like he was ready to knock the framed picture Ethan just protected.

The creature seemed surprised, not dearing to move for a split second.

"What is it ?" Benny questionned, his legs taking him beside Ethan. "What the-"

"Looks like a..." The little man whole body was covered in red and green tiny clothes. "A Chritmas elf."

"Why would a Christmas elf even-"

When his green eyes met the comically punny, globulous ones of the elf, anger swelled within its cells and it jumped on the spell master.

A scream escaped Benny as the situation escalated when several of the elf little friend came to its rescue. Ready to begin the vengeance mission and beat up the geek boy.

That when Benny shouted to Ethan to call everyone, and when the mess started.

. . .

"Oh lord, help !!" Rory screamed as one of the last elf pulled on his hair to make it come off.

Sarah came to his rescue, almost smashing his head along with the elf Ethan caught before it landed on the floor. He imprisoned it with the other ones who almost bit his hand off.

"Tell me it's over." Benny loudly breathed out, almost collapsing on the floor with all his weigh.

"I hope for us." Sarah desperately nodded, her breathing jerky.

"Can I keep one ?" Rory looked at the cage, wondering if he should adopt one as a pet, or simply eat it.

"Oh hell no, we're giving that to Evelyn, like she said. And we start praying that none more exist." You eyed the overly moving elfs, scared they would somehow understand how the earth priestess magic works.

"I'll leave you all be since it's now over, and no playing with those please." The brunette vampire went through the door, eager to forget this endless night.

"I am heading home too, I can't wait to return to my bed." You added.

Ethan eyes noticed Benny's ones hesitantly glancing toward your face for the first time. You weren't really upset over the boy, just... Slightly frustrated by how your night turned out.

An idea popped in his mind and the seer took action with an innocent face, trying to help his dorky best friend.

"Why don't Benny take you home." You both looked at him. "And he'll bring those tiny monsters to his grandma. It's the same way right ?"

"Y..Yeeeessss !!" Benny gazed at you, round eyes and mouth nodding to his bestfriend word like he just said the wisest thing on earth.

"I can go with you gu-"

Ethan interrupted Rory. "Why don't you stay with me bud' ?" The blond vampire frowned at his friend, not getting a clue of what was happening. "I need you to explain me some Marvel things again."

"Again ? Really dude ? Well I can't say no speaking about the equivalent of the bible." He shrugged.

"Great !" Ethan smiled at him.

"Meaning we're taking the Christmas babies on a walk, let's go let's go." Benny urged you, grasping the cage handle in his left hand.

"Alright." It was your turn to tiredly shrug, not noticing the messy and suspicious exchange between the two friends. "All see you later Rory, and Ethan too of course."

Both of them waved to you and the spell master before you exited the house, Benny hot on your feet.

"Another victorious night for us, right ?" He tried to get the conversation started while standing next to you. His eyes travelled all over you face, noting the tiredness under your eyes.

"If we could not make this a daily basis, I think everyone would be grateful." You sighed. Escaping supernatural was nearly impossible with the group of friends you had, yet you would be happier if it wasn't a weekly occurrence.

Benny never truly felt bad for the diverse things he ever did, if it turned wrong, well he just had to make it right again. But right now, under the moon's rays, he felt guilty. Guilty you had to handle every mess he created.

"I am sorry... About those." His hand moved up the cage, pointing his eyes to the seconds culprits.

"It's like you said, you couldn't possibly know what would happen. I am sorry for how I reacted." You sheepishly smiled at him.

Your smile made his waver. How could he ever think you would be mad at him, you were the sweetest, most understanding person he ever crossed path with.

"But now that we talk about this," You jumped right back into the conversation. "Why did you cheat ?" Benny could feel his face contort in frustration, coul you not let that detail slide ?

"I hm..." He hesitated. It was easy, the flirting, the banter. But to actually admit his feelings, taking the actual risk you would turn him down. It was way more complicated.

Your feet stopped, making the boy stop in his track a feet in front of you.

"I... Wanted to draw your name."

"Why ?"

"To give you a present." He was awfully serious. Making you a bit uneasy.

"Why ?" You kept on asking.

"Because... Well you know."

"No I don't." You slightly chuckled while he scratched his neck, wondering if he should make you forget your own question with a spell. Ethan would kill him if he did.

"I just wanted to give a present to you, you know how sensible and generous I am." Maybe his Benny charm decorated with a toothed wide smile could get him out of your curious claws.

"Generous huh. Yeah I can remember you stealing Ethan's food. Really generous." He rolled his eyes with a breathed laugh. "Why me though."

"I always want it to be you."

You felt your heart squeeze on itself, sending waves of cold and hot apprehension in your veins.

"Why ?"

"It's hm... It's what a guy would do for the girl he likes."

Your heart flipped, swirled, rolled on itself. It did everything if it meant it could crawl out of your mouth and jump into Benny's arm.

Your silence scared him for a few second. What were you thinking, did you kow ? Or you didn't saw it coming because you would have never thought of him this way. Disgust must fill your core.

Your eyes drifted, like it did all the other time you would look at Benny. Staring, peering at his lips while he looked away, scared to see the look in your eyes.

And like all the other time, you felt it. This need to close the gap, to embrace your feelings, and maybe, to accept he may be feeling the same way.

Your feet closed the gap, took you to him. His head immediately looked back at you when he noticed your body moving. And with a lift of your arms, a stretch of your hands, you held his face in your palms. Acknowledging the warmth emanating from the pink skin of Benny's cheeks.

You didn't second thought your actions, you couldn't now that you moved and took the initiative. You pulled on his face, gently, letting him the chance to escape. To say no. He didn't.

Even with surprise swirling in his eyes, he permitted you to lead him, to control the situation.

You pressed your lips against his, timidly. You weren't in a rush, you didn't need a passionate exchange. You wanted to confide, express the words you were terrified to admit with a gesture. One that couldn't be misinterpreted.

When you leaned back, looked into his eyes, you saw countless of stars sparkling with you in the center of his pupils.

"Can we kiss again ?"

Surprise raised in on your features. "Y-Yes of cour-" He rapidly dropped the cage, making you look down in fear. "Oh my god careful ! If they-"

You couldn't finish your words as his lips crashed on yours, sharing a new gentle kiss slightly more urgent than the first one. You had surprised him with that first kiss, it took seconds for him to wake up. Making his body unable to respond correctly to you. But now he wanted to show you, make you feel the affection you shared with him.

A gasp escaped you, followed by a muffled giggle as his hands curled around your neck, his thumb brushing your cheeks with care.

Your pressed your lips harder on his when you felt him do the same before pulling away, Benny's face following your lips to get more of you.

"Slow down !" You laughed. "We still have to bring those evil one's to your grandma !"

"Can't you leave me a second with you ?" He kissed your cheek two times, holding your hand in his while taking back the cage in his other hand.

"We can still hang out tomorrow."

"Hang out ?" He raised an eyebrow.

You shook your head, amused by this new attitude and the fact that he tried to pick up on your words.

"We could go on a date." You saw his eyes twinkle with mischief and happiness. "Would you take me on a date ?" You asked, your lips curled up with tease.

"If I would ? Oh I will take you everyday on a date princess."

You blushed looking at the road to escape his pleased eyes.

Benny Weir was good at flirting, but only if you already fell for his charm.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-. Thank you for reading ! <3

[liveinfarbe]

Adar and Galadriel reminiscing about their Beleriand days…

These are clips from episode 4 and 7 of season 1. Notice the knife/dagger-parallel.

I've been researching the Silmarillion a little bit, because I think it gives hints about time and place in Adar's flashback account. This got lengthy. I write about the questionable Moriondor assumption by Galadriel and the esteem for flowers, blossoms, willows, glades in the lives of Galadriel and Celeborn, in Beleriand and beyond, and a possible path for hope, forgiveness and growth after trauma, that would lie in a dark Celeborn meets dark Galadriel story: Adar informs Arondir that he's been young in Beleriand once and used to walk down the banks of the Sirion river for miles and miles. He noticed sage blossoms, apparently liked the view, because it left a lasting impression. What I get from this (given the cosmology of that world is actual history and not just mythical) is that it must've happened after the sun and the moon appeared and pulled Middle-Earth out of its darkness, or else there wouldn’t be miles of sage blossoming. It thrives in full sunlight. This puts the account at the end of the First Age, after the Years of the Trees. Interestingly, this is after the "creation" of the Orcs by Morgoth.

Whatever bond and similarity Adar has with the Uruks, he’s apparently not one of those Moriondor that Galadriel talked about to him. I assume the Moriondor concept reflects Tolkien’s idea (he had several) that elves were captured by Morgoth after their awakening in Cuiviénen under the starlight and before Oromë found them and then got corrupted and twisted and thus became the first Uruks. While Adar shares certain physical traits with them, he can’t be one of those first Uruks, because 1.) he lived far in the West, in Beleriand, 2.) the sun had risen, 3.) he’s lived among elves that spoke Sindarin and Quenya, since he speaks it too and not some Avari language, though he could've learned all that in Angband during idle hours, I don't know, he learned black speech too. Anyway, the first mentions of Orcs roaming Beleriand is in Y.T. (Years of the Trees) 1330, but Melkor (at this point in time he's not yet given the name Morgoth by Fëanor) is incarcerated in Valinor. Sauron is in Beleriand though, hiding out in Angband, waiting for Melkor's return, "breeding" Orcs apparently, because their numbers grow and they "roam" Beleriand. This is 200 Valian years before the sun. I'm no loremaster, but I know this is a long time. At this point and later, Adar is still, as he describes himself, young. So Orcs were breathing living creatures before that elf-man became Adar. "Young" I see as meaning before he got captured and tortured and then brainwashed by Sauron as part of the “13 of us” (ep. 2x2).

So something doesn't add up, and Adar implies that in his interaction with Arondir in ep. 1x4. Are the tales of Moriondor a widely spread myth created by Elves, since all accounts about Orcs mostly stem from Elvish chroniclers? Maybe this is what Adar hints at. He says to Arondir

“You have been told many lies. Some run so deep even the rocks and roots believe them. To untangle it all would all but require the creation of a new world.”

He thinks only gods can do that, and he ain’t one…yet. Unlike Morgoth who raised mountains, or other Valar whose wrath sank a whole landmass like Beleriand, and later Númenor. He's just doing what he must, realizing Morgoth's terraforming plan and resettling the Uruks so they can live freely.

The "many lies" that he mentions are reflected in the things that Galadriel - who’s famous as "the scourge of the Orcs", even in Númenor - says to him when she interrogates him in episode 1x6. She’s full of hate and delivers a truly genocidal speech to him that shocks herself in the aftermath. (She acknowledges that somewhat self-critically to Theo in ep. 1x7, and it might be one of the reasons she rejects Sauron's offer later)

The truth about Adar's origin story isn't yet revealed. I think it will be, because the writers put some effort in it, dropped cues and hints in excellent dialogue and made him a multilayered character. Finally, let’s come back to the flowers and blossom mentions in the clips above because they could very nicely tie back to Galadriel and Celeborn in Beleriand and beyond. Adar says he “went down that river once”. Let’s see, if he, for example, came from Doriath and went down the Sirion towards its mouth and saw a lush amount of flowers blossom, he could have come through a region called Nan-Tathren or Tarsarinan that is literally called Valley of the willows. Possibly the home to Galadriel’s “glades of flowers” she danced in.

Why would she dance there and not in Doriath? I don't know, but there's a clear hint that she was in that region and even made meaningful personal connections there. With Ents. And Celeborn, too. Tarsarinan, Valley of the willows, means something to the couple and Treebard, as mentioned in a passage in The Lord of the Rings. The memories of Celeborn, Galadriel and Treebard of that place are intimately entangled.

Then Treebeard said farewell to each of them in turn, and he bowed three times slowly and with great reverence to Celeborn and Galadriel. ‘It is long, long since we met by stock or by stone, A vanimar, vanimálion nostari!’ he said. 'It is sad that we should meet only thus at the ending. For the world is changing: I feel it in the water, I feel it in the earth, and I smell it in the air. I do not think we shall meet again.' And Celeborn said: 'I do not know, Eldest.' But Galadriel said: 'Not in Middle-earth, nor until the lands that lie under the wave are lifted up again. Then in the willow-meads of Tasarinan we may meet in the Spring. Farewell!

“Many Partings” - The Return Of The King - LOTR - J.R.R. Tolkien

Okay… 1.) Treebard's “It is long, long since we met by stock or by stone” sounds a lot like Adar’s words to Arondir "even the rocks and the roots believe them", 2.) A vanimar, vanimálion nostari! is translated as "Oh, beautiful ones, parents of beautiful children"

That last point reminds of Adar's relationship to the Uruks and the rhetoric surrounding it: Adar whose name translates as "father" calls the Uruks "my children", "my sons and daughters", main difference is that they’re not that beautiful, neither is he — but that lies in the eye of the beholder. Does Adar imply the propaganda about Uruks is so pervading that even the eldest Ents believe them? Possibly his old friend Treebard… ?

I mean he's certainly wreaked havoc in the woods, forced the felling of trees, displaying not much respect for the Ents. On the other hand, Adar is shown planting Alfirin seeds, that grow into flowers. He's still very Elvish, full of respect and longing for "new life, in defiance of death".

Finally… Lothlórien, Galadriel and Celeborn's later safe space, is literally meaning "Lórien of the Blossom". Treebard calls it "Dreamflower".

With all that cherishing of flowers - I think even his chain mail shirt displays flowery ornaments - could Adar be Celeborn in a rather depressing and long-lasting dark phase of his life in ROP? Explaining where he’s been all that time since she last mocked him as a “silver clam”? And if he is not, wouldn’t that be a really good story if he was? Adar doing the work could be an arc about hope and the possibility of healing and changing — it’s what Galadriel needs, too, in the long run.

At this point she’s confused and hurting after the betrayal by Sauron, because she liked him more than anyone in ages, but also because she had to witness herself being unreliable and, frankly, unwise. Yes, she’s vindicated for having always been right about Sauron, but the way she went about it fills her with shame, it’s gnawing at her, not primarily because of wounded pride, I believe, but out of compassion for the victims of her actions. Not unlike Míriel after her return to Númenor. It begs the question to them both if it was all needless, if there really is a greater good in what's unfolding now? At this point in the narrative, the Númenorian intervention that Galadriel pressed for must feel like a Pyrrhic victory with grave consequences and implications for the future of Middle-Earth as well as Númenor. It has caused immense trouble and pain already to many other people that Galadriel gave Sauron a clap on the back and an army. She still has to fully confront herself about that, she's still vulnerable to the darkness inside her, because she's hurting. She has Elrond to help and guard her, but other than that, who's there for her? I mean, in the end she has to accept that it's not her who can slay Sauron, she needs to come to that understanding. It's a battle within herself she hasn't yet had the courage to take up because she still can't face her lingering grief at this point in any other way than turning it into anger.

[valgeristik]

'Tis the dragon age season, and i am here with a DA Oc Lore Post.

Not about every single one of them (yet? question mark?) but a general...timeline. Mostly about Zea and Lora. An explanation of why i keep saying 'its honestly a wonder Zea turned out as well adjusted as they did'

putting it under the cut 👍 it got LONG (also, Veilguard Spoilers Tm closer to the end of the text, so uve been warned)

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So basically, in my heart in my mind all three of my DAO wardens exist at the same time:

Lora (elf mage), Nikolai (dwarf commoner) and Noel (human noble)

(for those unfamiliar with DAO, each of those have their own origin story. i linked the wiki but tbh tbh tbh i highly recommend playing DAO for urself instead. is it old with old graphics? yes. is it an absolute banger regardless? YES.

I tweaked a few things here n there for each of the backstories, but maybe i'll elaborate on that in a separate post. who knows!)

Anyway. Somewhere along the way the team would come across a village in the middle of a darkspawn attack. They get there early enough to save some people, but too late to save the village itself. You know, Blight things.

This is where they'd find Zea, who survived only because, well, turns out they're a mage! and the magic got triggered by the fact that they were sosososo scared. They are also 5 years old at that point in time.

Lora is the one who finds them, which is fortunate, because they DO try to hit her with some lightning. Which she's well-practiced with redirecting. (u know those big AOE elemental spells you can get in DAO? my main tactic while playing as Lora was to just stack those three on top of each other. So.)

Anyway, she calms them down n gets them out of the building that used to be their home. Whatever family they had is dead, and Lora does realize that

1. Zea is a mage

2. and also an elf

So the chances of them being raised in a nice loving environment are pretty low. And let's be honest, Lora would feel incredibly opposed to the idea of this little kid suffering any more than they already did (<- already getting attached)

It's like finding a blind baby bird on the ground and not being able to put it back in the nest.

Zea would also immediately latch onto Lora as the first like. Adult that they can rely on now that their own mother is gone. (i have not thought about their family too much, but leaning towards the idea that they were being raised by a single mother. )

Lora would make them feel safe, even if she isn't the best parental figure, being 19 (JUST had her Harrowing) and this being her first time in her memory that she gets to leave the mage tower and travel the world. And, you know, having to help stop the Blight. She's got a lot going on.

The initial plan is to either find someone in some town who could help, or give Zea to the dalish, possibly. Wynne suggests the mage circle, but Lora is very much against it, for reasons mentioned above. (and some others. like the fact that the Fereldan mage circle was just completely fucking wrecked.)

But they don't find anyone in town, and by the time they get to the dalish everyone kind of decides that it's not been too bad, actually, and maybe the kid should stay with them. Especially because Zea would probably (definitely) cry a lot if they were to be left somewhere with yet another bunch of unfamiliar people.

Zea is pretty much being raised communally. Nikolai is actually the one who's the best at being a parental figure, as Lora...again, does not think of herself as a parent for the longest time. (Which, who can blame her, really)

And Noel is. Well. Noel.

A brief aside.

Zea, being 5, is old enough to remember things from before the darkspawn attack. They would know

their name and surname

exactly two lines from a song their mother used to sing to them when they were scared or upset

enough of their childhood for the memories of it to haunt them on n off forever ✌️

along with other things that will fade away with time, like their mother's face and what her voice sounded like. etc.

Anyway, that is to say, they will develop a habit of singing those two lines from the song to themself when they need to calm down or distract themself or the like. A self-soothing method, if u will. (<- link to a thing i drew about it)

I have this image in my head of this toddler noticing that Lora is having a rough time at some point (maybe just got woken up by one of those archdemon nightmares) and coming over to sing it to her....because even at that young age, they want to help (foreshadowing)

(the song is actually this one bcs those two lines got stuck in my head while i was playing DATV for the first time n then i was like hey. i could use that....... the specific lines are from 0:37 - 0:49, if u care)

Anyway.

The wardens do what wardens do and end the 5th Blight. Yuppie!

The group splits, with some going their own ways, and some sticking together.

Nikolai and Alistair become like the Normal Uncles to Zea, who occasionally babysit them when Lora is off in the deep roads or whatever.

As for their primary caretakers. well.

My opinions have changed many times over the years regarding the question of Who Would Lora Romance.

At first the answer was. No one.

And then i thought it would be really funny if it was Zevran.

And THEN i thought that it would be even funnier if Noel was their occasional third.

She is the cool aunt who comes over a few times a year to give Zea the most expensive ass gift and to flirt with their parents and then fuck off again.

So Zea is essentially being raised by Thedas' weirdest polycule.

No wonder they can't help but disrespect authority. And. Well. [gestures vaguely in their direction] Other Things.

Now, you can sigh with relief, i'm not going to describe every year that follows.

But there are a few Key Events.

1: The Accident

As mentioned before, Lora did not really consider herself a parent. She wasn't cold to Zea or anything, but she did not take a lot of responsibility, and also did not consider how much her actions and demeanor might influence Zea. Who, let's be honest, would kind of end up idolizing the lot of them, but Lora especially.

So, a couple of years after DAO ends (or maybe During? I haven't quite decided yet, but it's before they turn 8), Zea gets it into their head to try and imitate not-mama.

They've seen her stand in the middle of a lightning storm she summoned on the battlefield, and they were like. Well, lightning kinda comes easier than other things, so let me try that too!

And it goes terribly wrong.

They end up almost dying, but Lora is quick enough to react and get them help. (Which, it had to have been someone else. Maybe Wynne. Because I don't think Lora would know or be any good at healing magic, and I'm SURE she felt so normal about that fact in that moment.)

And this is the event that really hits her over the head with the realization of just how much influence she has on the kid.

So, when Zea recovers, Lora takes it upon herself to teach them how to use magic Properly. Which, hey, ends up working out great.

This is kind of a pivotal moment for her, because she realized just how attached she's gotten, and how easy it would be to lose them. And if she becomes a bit over-protective for the next few years...well. Who Can Blame Her.

This is the moment when she starts thinking of herself as a parent.

2: The Talk (the birds and the. archdemon blood)

As mentioned previously, and even several times, I believe, Zea would idolize Lora and the others, and by extension, would think that grey wardens are the coolest people in Thedas.

Zea is also what I would describe as a bright-eyed idealist. They want to leave the world a better place. They want to help people. And most of all, they want to prevent what happened in their home village from happening again, wherever they can.

They also think their mama is Stronger That God And Will Never Die, and they want to be just like her! 🤗

So they voice as much, when they are about 11-12. They tell Lora that they want to become a grey warden when they grow up.

Now, her plan for them was simple: she wants them to live a long and happy life. Which does not go hand-in-hand with being a warden. She also knows she won't be around forever, even if she's actively searching for a way to prevent the Calling. And also also, she couldn't give less of a shit about the secrecy of the order when it comes to her kid's safety.

So she tells them everything. From the Joining to the Calling, every little detail of being a warden, every drawback. She makes it sound as unappealing as possible, trying her best to discourage this dream of Zea's.

What she doesn't consider is the fact that...Well.

Even if they know they will suffer, they will do it anyway.

Zea has an uncommon relationship with death, lets say. They know that it will happen. To them, and to others. It's not something to be afraid of, necessarily, on the grand scale of things. Suffering must be prevented as much as possible, of course, but death itself does not bring suffering with it on it's own. And so, if they're going to die anyway, what's 30 years or so if they can help save so many more lives? To them, it sounds like a sweet deal.

Sure, they could dedicate their life to saving people in some other ways. But the topic of the blight and darkspawn is particularly personal.

And, knowing about the Calling now, they know that Lora will not be around by the time it's their turn, and so will not be hurt by it.

If they survive the Joining, that is, but eh. Details.

(Although they were fully aware they might die. And they prepared accordingly. With a letter to their family and all, in case things went bad.)

They join the wardens when they turn 20, without telling anyone.

Lora only finds out afterwards.

Obviously, she's not happy about it, but it's not like she can reverse it (yet?..).

So, they talk, they argue, they make peace, and she supports them as best she can, while also redoubling her efforts to find a way to prevent the Calling.

The events of Veilguard happen when Zea is 27.

(spoilers start here)

Lora and co. are in the south of Thedas, helping fight the blight there, and so they cannot come and help out.

And Zea doesn't want them to. They want to prove that they can handle it all on their own. They don't even tell their family that they're involved with All That until shit really hits the fan.

Even after Weisshaupt.

(They try writing a letter to Lora to tell her that they're alive, after. They can't finish it, because they hate how it keeps spiraling. They don't need her to come over and fix everything, they can stand on their own two feet, they have a Team, they WILL handle it.

But, damn, they do want that Mom Hug.)

Before all that, they never really encountered a situation in which they thought they will die. Not since they were 5.

It tests them, their bright-eyed idealism, their inherent urge towards kindness above all.

(Yes, they did punch the First Warden. And yes, they did feel incredibly bad for him once they found him in the underground Weisshaupt replica later. And yes, the memory of his death does haunt them sometimes, even if killing him was an act of kindness.)

But in the end, no matter how angry they were at Solas, or how much they wanted to punch him, too, they chose to talk him down instead.

Because, despite it all, they still want to leave the world better than they found it.

Thats it, thank you so much for attending this lecture 🫡

(and also, yes, Noel DOES teach Zea how to stab people so so so well. It's her own way of caring)

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

how old do you think aylin is? i know there's no hints of her age in canon, so im looking to hear your headcannons >:)

Sticking exact numbers on things is something I am both reluctant to do and imo terrible at. And it's tricky here, especially when there is so much history (and sometimes from conflicting or vague sources) as the Forgotten Realms setting. And then, of course, there's the "newly created character" issue of how have we not heard of Aylin and her great deeds before? The in-game text treats her as famous and well-known (Jaheira's little line summoning her in the final battle is a fave of mine: "Dame Aylin - there are some here who don't yet fear your name!").

But Dame Aylin's deeds are great; her presence - present.

I think I've mentioned how Aylin in general doesn't strike me as a particularly old immortal. Certainly not thousands of years, unless you want to have her around for ancient Netheril floating sky city times - which could be super fun! It's just not the vibe I get from her at all. I'd say give her a few hundred years, a middle aged to older elf range or thereabouts, enough to justify that messed up sense of time she has and the perspective she displays on outlasting everything; but mostly pick what edition changes Faerûnian cataclysms you want her to have been around for to give her something to do, because that's the fun part (she sadly missed some spicy ones due to her imprisonment).

A fave of mine to consider re: Aylin is always the Time of Troubles and Selûne's stint keeping a tavern in Waterdeep, of all things. A shame the timeline simply can't work out for Aylin to have been very young then - she'd literally be younger than Isobel (which, while it'd make for an amusing subversion, I don't think is the case).

I just feel "Vajra Valmeyjar as Aylin's other mum" would rock, you know? Maybe she and Aylin were bouncers at Selûne's Smile together for a little while, at least.

[emmy-dekarios-bg3]

Heart of the Weave (part 2)

Please only read if you've read the first Fic, Which you can find HERE

Chapter 9

We show the lovely and dapper blonde elf woman at the front our invitation, and she smiles, greeting us as we step through the doors. Her hair glistens under the evening stars, her green eyes bright and eccentric as we meet one another for the first time. 

   “It's about time I finally meet Mrs. Dekarios,” she says with a soft and delicate tone that sounds like music to my ears. “You're all he talks about. It's a real pleasure to meet you, Madam. I’m Cala.” From my understanding, her name means light  in Elven. I smile and nod, feeling much less nervous than before. I love to see a friendly face, especially if they've ‘heard all about me.’ 

  

   “It’s a delight to meet your acquaintance, Cala. I hope to get to know you more sometime.” Gale and I link arms as he guides me inside the Academy, which somehow appears much larger on the inside than the outside. I can't explain it, but it feels like I'm having a dream…but maybe because I've always wanted to attend a fancy ball. The stained glass windows are so beautiful to look at, causing the room to light up with its vibrant colors and magical effect to the eyes. There's so many people I still need to meet, and there are a lot more than originally anticipated. 

   “How are you feeling now, love?” Gale asks as we tour the Academy, casually  saying hello to his fellow acquaintances along the way. My face lights up as several unfamiliar yet friendly faces smile at me through the crowds. “They've all been expecting you.”

   “I feel…incredible. Happy. Less nervous. They must all be aware of who I am, I assume?” Gale chuckles and nods as we make a step toward the middle of the room, where gathered guests are ready to dance. The area is open, with candles surrounding us and a blanket of Weave covering the room, which causes a relaxing sensation within the hall. “Ah, the Weave is what’s causing me to feel so calm.”

  “Oh yes. I can't help but talk about you to everyone I work with. Now, don't get me wrong, I have no problem turning away from the subject and focusing on my studies. But…” A woman I’m unfamiliar with approaches Gale; another long-haired blonde elf, wearing a ruby-colored gown that exposes most of her legs. I flash her a friendly smile, but she does not want to make any sort of eye contact with me; in fact, she shoves me off.  What in the living hells just happened? Someone wanting my husband, and trying to get with him right in front of me? She did not just do that. Keep it cool, Emmy. Being a jealous and frustrated wife won't make you look good here. 

   “Gale, oh what a pleasure! I'm so glad to see you here. I didn't expect you to come, with you having baby duties and responsibilities,” she rudely chimes in, flirtatiously getting closer to him. Gale releases my arm for a moment and clears his throat. He sternly looks her in the eye, which turns me on. Goddamn it Emmy, stop it. 

  “L–”

 “Please, no need to say my name.” She giggles obnoxiously as I clench my fist, though I have no intention of using said fist. “You look so handsome tonight. You should wear that suit to the Academy more often. It's a dashing look for you, but you’ve always looked so…appealing with the way those sleeves tighten around your arms. Not to mention…the way your chocolate brown hair hangs below your chin.” Gale takes a step back, his eyes glaring at her as she tries to move right past me, bumping into my shoulder with cruel intent, but acts like it's an accident. She then makes direct eye contact with me as I lock my arm back with Gale’s. “OH, my apologies madam.”

  “This is my wife, Emmy. Emphasis on the word wife. Please, I'm here for a pleasant time with her if you'd excuse us.” She scoffs, giving me an unpleasant look as she storms off. Immediately afterwards, a higher-up from the Academy locates her, escorting her out of the building. It appears they were trying to track her down for awhile now, and we kept her busy long enough for them to find her. Unintentionally, of course. 

  “You aren't supposed to be here,” the headmaster states with a stern tone. “No invite was given to you due to various violations of Academic rules. Please kindly leave the building or be escorted out yourself. You are on a final warning before permanent exhalation will be in place. Do you understand?” Gale and I exchange glances as we turn around to walk the other direction, preparing for a wonderful evening on the floor. 

  “You never mentioned her,” I mumble. “Has she always…? Sorry, I'm just trying to process what in the hell just happened.”

  “She has tried making advances toward me before, but I didn't realize it was actual…erm…flirting. I'm completely unaware of signals like that. At least until tonight. She wanted to make it known she had every intention of taking me from you, but I would never allow that. Ever. You are my entire world.”  We exchange smiles as he places his hand on my waist, and the pianist begins to play the gentle melody that soothes my very spirit. It was that very moment all my fears were gone; I'm dancing like I never imagined. The way Gale is caressing my body while we dance under the chandelier is like magic…but a whole different type than what I'm used to. The moonlight from the night sky peeks through the stained glass windows, reflecting on our skin and causing an enchanting light. 

 “Gods…” Gale’s voice is hushed as he makes strict contact with me, admiring me as I twirl under his arm. “You're so damned beautiful.” I fall back into his arms and he pulls me close to him, his arms wrapped around my waist. I feel his hands move toward my stomach. 

  “You make me feel beautiful, Mr. Dekarios.” I twirl again to face him, our eyes meeting, completely unaware of the people dancing around us; our focus is heavily on one another.  He eyeballs my entire body as I dance freely in the open hall. 

  “You must have been practicing. Correct me if I'm wrong. But I am truly in awe by your elegance and free spirit. And hey, you didn't trip over your own feet like you thought you would.” He takes my hand and I gently step toward him carefully. In that moment, I realize how truly lucky I am. How truly beautiful it is to be alive. 

  After a rather long evening of dancing and being introduced to all of Gale's colleagues – who all love me, by the way – we eat a delicious dinner with everyone and make a toast. Tonight still doesn't feel real and much like a dream, so I pinch myself in the arms as we’re leaving to go pick up our babies. 

  “Nope, not a dream.”

 “Huh?” Gale questions, holding my hand as we step outside in the fresh evening air. “Did you pinch yourself?”

  “I had to make sure this was real life, honey. And I was right, because goddamn that pinch hurt.” He sighs and wraps his arm around my waist as we make our way back through the city.  We quietly observe the city as we enjoy each other's company, feeling beyond happy after a wonderful evening. I cant imagine a more perfect way to spend my night. 

[davenswitcher]

NSFW Alphabet: Astarion x Estellé

Astarion and Estellé from "The Rockstar And The Groupie"

Saw the post from @bardic-inspo and decided to do this for my pookies too.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

They cuddle for a bit longer. Most often than not, he stays inside her until he's soft again. Afterwards, they take a shower together <3

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Estellé l o v e s his thighs and eyes. For Astarion, he loves her eyes. He fell in love with her heterochromia, sometimes gazing into her eyes a bit too long, and he looks away shyly. He also can't get enough of her ass.

C = Cum (Where does your muse prefer to cum/have someone cum?)

Inside for both.

D = Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory: a dirty secret of theirs)

Neither have confessed yet that they masturbated thinking about the other before they got together.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

As a rockstar he had his fair share of debauched nights. He also was in a relationship with Shadowheart for a few years.

Estelle was only in a relationship once, and kissed a girl in a truth or dare in college.

F = Favorite position (This goes without saying)

Estellé loves prone bone and how deep he can thrust into her, hitting her spot perfectly. She also loves missionary and cowgirl, but mostly missionary, so she can kiss him and hold him.

Astarion loves missionary for the same reason. He's a sap deep down and gets off on kissing her and thrusting into her at the same time. Another favourite of his is fucking into her deep with her legs on his shoulders.

Both also like it slow when the mood strikes.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

It depends on the mood. They can be goofy and tease each other mad, but also be serious and worship each other.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Astarion's hair is very well taken care off. He hoards shampoos and conditioners. As an elf, he doesn't need to shave his body hair and has therefore soft af skin.

Estellé isn't as fanatical with her hair but likes to take care of it as much as she can. She's also an elf, so no body hair (I'm so jealous).

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

Passionate, sappy, you name it.

J = Jack off (Masturbation headcanon)

Astarion is a serial masturbator lol (in the rockstar universe). Either with his hands or letting the shower head massage his cock.

Estellé doesn't masturbate as often as him. But can't help herself when he comes home after a dance session or leaving the in-house gym all sweaty.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Both have an oral fixation. Astarion also likes to nibble her soft flesh, especially thighs (in every universe am I right)

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

At home. Sometimes also in his backstage room.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going?)

They're insatiable. Half lidded looks and tight clothing and you'll not see them for the rest of the evening.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Both don't do degradation, anal and hair pulling.

Astarion has claustrophobia and doesn't do well with being tied up. A hot date ended pretty fast once when he had a panic attack.

Estellé doesn't like pain and doesn't want to be spanked or have her thighs and boobs gripped too tightly. She only let Astarion pat her booty once when they were backstage. That's the maximum "spanking" she tolerates.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Estellé is his oral queen and never had someone this good. Both like giving and receiving equally, though, Estellé really loves tasting him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Somewhere in the middle tbh. They love it slow and tender but also love rutting each other senseless.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not really into quickes, both of them. They love to take their time.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

They like roleplaying from time to time. But not many risks. Astarion is happy he has someone who matches his freak, and it's enough.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

They are insatiable. They like to tire each other out. But it's always three rounds max, sometimes four.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Estellé has a tiny collection of vibrators and dildos she likes to use on herself.

Astarion likes to use the vibration spell on himself or Estellé sometimes, but not often. He also had fleshlights when he was younger. Some vibrated, some had a suction function.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

They are huge teases. Astarion a bit more than her.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Estellé can be loud, but she tries to tone it down. Soft whimpers, sighs, the occasional "fuck". Most of the time, she moans into his mouth because this guy can't stop kissing her.

Astarion groans and growls deeply, which turns Estellé on very much.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Astarion likes to cook for her, but sometimes lies and says that his mom send it via teleportation.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Estellè has a beauty mark in her inner thigh.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Astarion has a higher sex drive. Estellés used to be lower especially after her ex but she caught up quickly.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

As they only trance they cuddle and stay awake for a bit longer. They talk about everything and anything or Astarion reads to her.

Tagging: @cinnamontails-ff @larvasmoon @busy-baker

[felmonth]

Hello everyone!

As I said before, since a while ago I wanted to change the content and well, I don't know if it's interesting to see but I will post these drawings that are from a long time ago when I draw my ocs more frequently, I want to take them back and make a new story so don't hold back asking about these new characters, I leave their names and small descriptions.

Kuppis

These creatures behave like birds, make canary sounds and eat cookies, I was inspired by Pokémon to make these characters, I hope you like my creatures.

Old design:

Felmonth

First... Felmonth is not me, is my oc, Felmonth is actually a formless smiling slimy mass that in order to have a physical body, it has to devour people, although it can't just eat them, it has to make its victim depressed to the brink of collapse and then devour them, however, the physical body it has after it has devoured someone, after a few minutes or so after the victim is consumed, cracks and breaks, making it short lived. Basically the story I have from Felmonth is how to get out of the depths of depression, I don't know how to fully develop it but it's more or less the attempt.

Fushi Sweetheart

This character was my favorite since 2016, I had a story together with a friend but since we don't talk for a long timew anymore, I had to start from scratch so he has a side story as Tom's adopted son, yes....the puppet, like the movie Peabody and Sherman (I love that movie) but actually the original story Fushi had and I plan to develop it again, he was the typical human half demon, but this time he is a demon of the "cracks", because of his emotions the cracks react to his magic and so, I have comics but I don't plan to show them since I don't consider him canon in my head now, the person who can see him is Lulu >:3 mwehehe nah it's joke xd I'll leave all the mystery to Lulu and you guys too.

Pettitil (Bunny) and Eve (Elf)

The world my characters inhabit is a place where they only learn magic and consequences of it by using it, as the original story is cruel and sad, this time it's much more regulated soft but having the conflict of the characters, I didn't feel comfortable with the original story XD literally everyone died and I don't like that.

Pettitil is a bunny girl, she is the middle sister of 8 bunny siblings, she has plant magic, she acts as the older sister of another character I will show later, named "Lionel", she treats that boy like her brother since Lio is going through a hard time with his demanding family, Pettitil's father has no problem with her inviting his friend over for tea at home. She has no definite age (in fact, none of my characters are of age, but until their story is fixed, the characters will be between 20 years old and up)

Eve the elf, a clumsy but kind hearted girl, her family is poor but she has the opportunity to study thanks to a lottery provided by a school, her world falls apart when her mother demands her to marry to get riches, she doesn't want to marry someone she doesn't love but she is forced to get together with someone, she meets Lionel her "fiancé" they both become friends and realize they are nothing for each other in terms of falling in love.

Mimi the faun

According to the comics I have of her, she is a tarot reader, her magic specializes in intuition and divination, she has no personality yet, so in the comics she survived without personality.

To be continued...

[all-things-skylanders]

Could I request some boom bloom headcannons and share one of them (she’s bisexual )

Yeah, looking her over, I can definitely see that Boom Bloom has Bi Energy. This is actually the first requested character I don't have in my collection, so I'm relying on the wiki alone.

Updated Lore:

Boom Bloom was a sentient tree at one point, helpless and yet peaceful. She had no name, and yet everyone in the grove knew her, and she knew everyone else. Of course, that was because her only neighbors were other sentient trees! Boom Bloom lived for over a thousand years, meaning that she had watched the fall of the Arkeyan empire at the hands of the Giants, though she had never learned what it was like to meet the fabled Tree Rex.

After nearly twelve-hundred years of life, Boom Bloom found herself growing increasingly bored of the status quo. She had counted the leaves of every tree in sight a thousand times over, watched blades of grass wither with unwavering focus, and survived locust attacks for generations.

When change finally came, it was in the form of an Ent Ninja and his apprentice. The ent was the supposed Guardian of the Forest, though he mostly stuck to the more populated areas. The grove however, was the perfect spot for him and the little elf girl with him to train. For years, Boom Bloom watched as the elf grew into the future warrior, Stealth Elf. Boom Bloom herself watched the ninja training every day as well, soaking everything that she needed to know up, unlike the other trees who didn't care for learning such frivolities that they would never use.

When Stealth Elf graduated and moved on, the status quo set back in, but only for a short while. The villanous Dr. Krankcase dug up the entire grove of its trees and brought them to his lab for experiments, mutating each of them into what were intended to be his minions. The trees didn't take kindly to this, and were quick to rebel with their new bodies. All of Boom Bloom's old friends quickly were destroyed, as they knew nothing of using their physical forms, but Boom Bloom had learned of combat through watching the ninjas train, so with the help of her mutated powers, she destroyed Krankcase's entire laboratory, where the villain only escaped by a hair.

Boom Bloom's ancient wisdom and prowess rivaling the most decorated skylanders in the team, Boom Bloom was quick to become a Sensei when she sought out the famed Master Eon, teaching giddy recruits in the pursuit of patience.

Other Stuff:

Boom Bloom is Bisexual, though not towards other creatures. Boom Bloom has been caught flirting with flowers and shrubs around the academy, and has yet to exhibit any attraction to something capable of returning those feelings.

Due to their pasts as mutated trees, and similar ages, Boom Bloom and Tree Rex share a connection, and are commonly paired as duos when big guns need to be called in.

Boom Bloom sees Stealth Elf as something like a daughter, and tries to go on bonding activities and hang-outs, only to confuse Stealth Elf more and more, since the elf herself never knew Boom Bloom had been watching, and therefor felt none of the bond that Boom Bloom did.

Boom Bloom has next to zero social understanding. While she talks very formally and is seemingly polite at first, she can be blunt, emotional and easily confused, since she knows very little of her world beyond what she eavesdropped. She also has next to no concept of mortality and time, so she's given quite a few skylanders existential dread over their short lives.

Boom Bloom has severe survivor's guilt, as she knew her grove mates for nearly twelve centuries, and now she is the last one left. On late nights, she may be found in the middle of Life Zones, mourning her kin.

WOAH! That was a lot more than I expected to write, Boom Bloom really spoke to me a lot! She has a really solid concept that lends itself to my favorite brand of angst quite well, so I guess I kinda went overboard.

That's what I could come up with for Boom Bloom. Do you like it? I'm always down for feedback, as long as it's polite ^^

[marvelmymarvel]

Okay so I have major writers block but I have to share my LOTR idea with yall. And I'm almost certain I am breaking so much cannon lore with the idea but I wanna do it anyway because I can. So please do not correct me, I know I'm wrong just have fun with it.

So here is my idea.

The reader is someone from here and ends up in Middle Earth. Elrond found her and put some of his blood in her to make her immortal. She technically is an elf but looks like a human. The orcs have been chasing after her for thousands of years. so Elrond, to keep her safe, sends her off to Mirkwood to stay with Thranduil. She hates it and manages to sneak out and join the dwarves on their adventures. They don't know she has elven blood in her until they meet with Elrond in Rivendell.

The scene where they are in Rivendell is where my newest idea is placed. Elrond pulls her aside and states that they (Elrond, Thranduil, Gandalf, and Galadriel) haven't been honest with her and have finally decided to open up about her true origin.

Also, all of this is to the song Ptolomaea by Ethel Cain (https://youtu.be/aLy27Xo-gos?si=AcO8odVHGrtgKGIp) Mainly the last part where the darker voice is talking... Art of Elven Sauron below is by Csanikainferna

Elrond eyed you, hesitant with how much to say and how much to show. "I haven't been honest with you... How old do you think you are?"

Your eyebrows furrowed and your eyes slid to Gandalf standing beside the fountain. The three of you were outside in the courtyard, the moonlight shining down and illuminating his gray hair. "I'm around 3,000 years old..." you trailed off as you looked back to Elrond who only stared at you blankly as he gnawed on his lip. "Who found you?"

"You did, what are these questions??" you bit back, nerves finally eating away at you as dread fell over your senses. Elrond sighed before moving towards you, "I should have done this a long time ago, but I was afraid doing so would put you in danger-"

You stepped back away from him, hand coming up to stop him from advancing. "I'm scared-"

"3,000 years ago I took your memories away. I'm going to give them back. All you need to remember is that he won't hurt you... Do you trust me?"

You were frozen but slowly felt yourself nod at the one person you trusted more than anyone else on this continent. His fingers came up and rested on your forehead, "You're safe, I'll be here when you come back-"

Darkness sucked you in before he had a chance to finish his sentence. Your eyes blinked open, blearily looking around the dark space around you. Rocks stabbed into your skin and a terrible heat was making it hard to breathe. Suddenly, ugly faces hovered over you and you gasped in fright as the orcs hauled you up from the ground. Your feet were kicking and you screamed out for them to let you go as they dragged you to the castle. It had dawned on you rather swiftly that you were in Mordor.

Fear coursed through your veins as large doors opened before you, showcasing a large room with a man sitting rigidly on the throne. It felt as if the wind had been knocked out of you at the sight of the blonde man before you. You didn't know how and you didn't know why, but he felt familiar.

He felt like home.

"Why hello there... What might your name be?"

You knew who he was, knew him as the dark lord. He was the nightmare mothers would tell their children about when they were misbehaving. He was murderous. A monster.

And yet, all you felt when looking up at him was peace, as if you had been searching for him for many millennia and you finally found him.

"I'm-"

The scene shifted and suddenly multiple images and moments flashed before your very eyes. Tears started to stream down your face as you took in just how much the feared man loved you. You had begged him to give up his desire for power and control, questioning if he really loved you. That argument seemed to anger him, because he loved you more than anything, and his power would be shared with you.

The both of you would rule the world.

The scenes continued to flash quickly as the conversations morphed into a high-pitched scream before it all went silent and you were looking down at your peacefully sleeping body that was wrapped in black silk sheets. The door to the room opened and you whirled around in fright.

From the darkness emerged Elrond and it finally dawned on you that you weren't saved from Sauron.

You were taken from him.

You stepped in front of your sleeping body but Elrond moved through you as if you didn't exist, only reminding you that this was a memory.

A memory that was stolen from you.

"Oh my... What... Who is she?" Another voice came from the doorway and you knew it was one of Elrond's generals. "I thought she was a myth... But I can already see his magic wearing off... If we don't give her something, she won't last through the night..."

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked over their shoulder and you noticed the color from your face draining. Elrond scooped you up in his arms, "Gandalf can transfer some of my life force to her, but we must hurry" he said swiftly as they moved out of the bedroom.

The scenes morphed again before flashing, showing you the memories you were allowed to remember. From waking up in Rivendell, acclimating to immortality, being transported to Mirkwood, meeting Thorin, to all the way up to now where you were on the ground kneeling in front of Elrond. Tears streaming down your face as he held you close.

You tilted your head down at the sight, confused as to why you weren't in your own body still, but you would soon get your answer. Your head fell backward, mouth opening as a scream ripped from your throat. Your chest lifted up into the air as if you were being possessed.

The scream cut off, leaving you all in silence. Gandalf was gripping his chest in disbelief as Elrond stroked your cheek with his thumb. "Y/n-"

Your head snapped forward, e/c eyes now blazing red, the same red of the lovers they stole you from.

"Y/n, wake up-" Elrond stated firmly as he tried to shake you out of it.

"I am no good nor evil, simply I am and I have come to take what is mine" The dark tone coming from your lips had you reeling back in fear, realization dawning on you that you had indeed been possessed.

Elrond paled at the words as my possessed lips slipped up into a snarling grin. He opened his mouth to curse at the dark lord in your body, but you continued. "I was there in the dark when you spilled your first blood. I am here now, as you run from me still."

Gandalf rushed forward, hand coming out to try and rip the dark lord from your body.

Your red eyes flicked to Gandalf, "Run then, child," Gandalf ignored the threat and slammed his hand onto your head, making you start to slump over. The red in your eyes started to fade and you began to feel the pull of your by-standing soul into your once-possessed body.

"You can't hide from me forever."

[svperluminous]

Some ideas from my Space Pirate Finnegrin AU

The premise of the story is that Callum needs to go somewhere or is looking for something (I still haven't figured out what he wants actually) but he's a prince and he doesn't want his parents to know what he's planning (both Harrow and Sarai are alive) so he hires an infamous space pirate who is known as a skilled pilot (one of the best pilots in the system, actually) and smuggler.

His crew are three of his crew from the show (the purple haired ram horned Earthblood elf I named Salma, the red curly haired human I named Rudy and the green haired tall and muscular Earthblood elf I named Theo) plus Elmer. Finn is more like their friend than their boss and he calls Elmer by his real name.

Thus begins their unlikely alliance. They do argue a lot in the beginning, Finn's ship breaks down at one point, they get attacked fairly frequently xD

At one point Callum's life is in danger because another pirate is pointing a gun at him and Finn shouts "you don't wanna kill 'im! He's [name]'s nephew!" and the person he name-drops is a pirate no one wants to cross. Finn later calls her and asks for a favor to pretend to be Callum's aunt. She's a Katolian and doesn't have any kids but her brother has some and no one actually keeps track of how many he has. She's not happy about it but she agrees. They later contact her brother, just in case. He immediately recognizes Callum as the prince of Katolis and gets super mad at Finnegrin for 1. getting Callum in trouble and 2. creating this whole charade. Finn doesn't understand why he's angry. Only later is it revealed that this is Callum's bio dad. He knows Callum is his son but for whatever reasons could not take part in his life.

One time they stumble upon a freshly killed Startouch elf and Finn's eyes see money! This universe still has magic and dark mages would pay looooooots of money for a fresh Startouch corpse! He puts it into the stasis chamber of his ship but Callum complains the whole way that this is wrong and that the body needs to be returned to their family. Finally, Finn caves in and agrees to bring the body to the closest Startouch embassy.

In this universe, Startouch elves live on a remote station and act like a sovereign nation. Aaravos lives on Earth, on the Xadian continent and is known as an eccentric rich guy. He doesn't like other Startouch elves but no one knows why (yet).

So it's the middle of the night and Finn and his crew, accompanied by Callum, are carrying the body wrapped in a rug through the sleepy streets xD well, Elmer is doing the carrying. They place the body at the entrance and are about to leave, when the door opens and a Startouch woman looks at them. They all freeze, Finn reaches for his gun but she tells them not to panic. She introduces herself as the dead elf's sister and tells them she saw them coming here in a vision. She knows they didn't kill her brother and she's just happy to get his body, so she can say goodbye and bury him.

She wipes her tears and invites them inside. Finnegrin is absolutely against it but she offers tea and cookies and Rudy and Theo just run after her. Finn follows them grumpily xD

The Startouch elf tells them how and why her brother was killed as well as about a conflict yet to come. A conflict in which they will take part. She breaks off a piece of her brother's horn and gives it to Callum, saying that he might need it at one point.

In this universe, dark magic is not necessarily evil and Aaravos can't control dark mages. If an ingredient was given willingly and the castor's intentions are good, then there's little to no damage from casting a dark magic spell.

I don't have everything figured out yet but the conflict is basically a Startouch civil war that Aaravos starts and our heroes just land smack into it and somehow help stop it xD Finnegrin learns to be less selfish by following Callum's example.