#I love giving them long/pointy elf ears. it fits them so well

[kai23-art]

oh worm

[dax-enfinity]

I clicked on your account for the sole purpose of Voltron content in 2023 and I was not disappointed.

Anyway, I wholehearted support Matt/Keith/Acxa, I mean the 2 half breeds are badass on their own, but throw in a guy as sexy as Matt, who could want more!!

He totally balances them out, like Matt has to scold Keith and Acxa after every mission cuz they're being too reckless. Maybe Matt and Keith get Acxa to open up a little bit, Matt and Acxa being older than Keith but Matt's the oldest (and loves to abuse it), The three of them having to explain that, no, no one's cheating on anybody were all together, They would have the best conversations.

In your fic you could have Acxa be like Keith's most loyal knight and Keith being a prince, while they are madly in love, they always felt a part of themselves missing, so when a pretty little blonde boy from another planet wanders right into their kingdom, they start scheming ways to make him theirs. Like a romantic picnic on a hilltop and lavish gifts fit for royalty. And on the inside Matt is like "OMG,OMG, they're soooo hot!"

I can imagine for the AU I made the Kerberos mission crew are now stuck at Daibazaal with no way back to Earth since the Garrison isn’t all that compared to Altean or Galran tech from 1000 years ago

But hey, at least the Galrans even if they have scary and intimidating appearances for aliens are friendly!

so I got another idea for this fic I’m never going to be able to write:

Shiro POV!

Shiro was walking around the luxurious and very well kept Daibazaal gardens, he wasn’t lying when he said that he was shocked by how human the planet felt, from the architecture to the way the locals acted, alongside the fact that they share the same language never fails to shock him.

An entire planet not another country or an unknown civilization but a planet billions of light years away from Earth already fully civilized and all was just incredible to him.

Once they had crash landed into the planets atmosphere due to that wormhole back in Kerberos he’d expect the three of them to be enslaved and used as entertainment like the gladiators yet they were quickly and safely accommodated to the planet by the royal family.

Speaking of surprises, Shiro quickly caught something out of the corner of his eye, in the distance was Matt stumbling alongside the Daibazaal heir and his most trusted knight, Prince Keith Kogane? Or was it Prince Keith Akira?

The royal heir was tall and slender with light purple skin and sharp bright yellow cat-like eyes to add to the more cat-like traits he had fangs, claws, long and pointy elf-like ears, and a tail, a fucking tail of all things.

Beside the Prince was his most loyal knight, this time he does remember her name, Acxa Luttrell wasn’t it? She’s also tall and clearly exercises as she’s a literal knight.

But among other things Shiro can just tell those two are giving Matt hear eyes for fuck’s sake and as always Matt is oblivious to it.

So yeah this isn’t a WIP or anything it’s just a silly thing I made up on the spot

[the-dwelf-ao3]

I was supposed to be studying but instead I wrote unnecessarily angsty gigolas whoops-

----

"See that star over there?"

Gimli was pointing at the nightly sky, his back flat against the wet grass.

Legolas, next to him, turned to his friend before following the direction of his finger.

Was that the way Gimli would deal with it, then? Pretending everything was well, pretending their lives were not going to be shattered mercilessly?

They had been lying under the stars for hours now, uncapable of saying a word. They would part at daybreak, and every fading star was a step towards that moment that could no longer be delayed.

"Yes. I do," muttered Legolas, his voice thick, words making their way through a mouthful of withheld cries.

"My people call it Giml."

Oh. Gimli was not just trying to chat away the night, no. He was sharing with Legolas things he had not shared before, things that, perhaps, he was not supposed to share. Legacy, family, names- sacred things that Dwarves kept secret, closely guarded.

"Were you named after a star?"

"Aye."

"It fits you."

Neither of them was as talkative as they usually were. One word too much, and they feared they would break, they feared their voice would give way to the misery they were attempting to conceal.

"It burns bright against the darkness, its light standing out. It fits you," Legolas repeated.

It looks so close, yet it stands so far. It looks eternal, yet its light will fade, it will be consumed by its own flaming brightness and only live in the memory of those who remain, of those who have witnessed its light and never since have been the same. It fits you, Legolas thought.

"I shall take that as a compliment," smiled Gimli. "I think my True Name fits me more, but every Dwarf thinks that."

"Alas! Your True Name, of which I am oblivious. Will I ever be allowed to know the name your soul truly responds to?"

"Nay, Lad, you know that. Not unless you marry me!"

"Perhaps I shall."

Gimli closed his eyes. They were doing it again, were they not? That flirtatious game of theirs. It had started as light teasing, a little guilty pleasure. An innocent way to cope with the rising of new feelings, burying them under humor.

But their bond had only grown stronger, until it had become clear to both of them that their hearts yearned for each other. They never spoke openly about it, they never directly addressed the subject- they would speak of in in terms of "what ifs", as if they were speculating on unimportant matters, as if they were jesting about it.

It would have hurt them too much to speak of how real their feelings were, for every "what if" only met a "would not" or a "could not", every "perhaps" had "impossible" for an answer. Every "Us" was always ripped apart by a "Them".

"Would not" is less hurtful than "not". "Impossible" sounds less cruel an answer if the question is about imagining and not desiring.

"So far would you go, to learn my Name?"

"Anywhere. Anything. As long as it concerns you, there is no such thing as too far."

Gimli opened his eyes wide, startled by how close Legolas sounded. Indeed, the elegant Elven face was right above his own, hair cascading from the sides, revealing the pointy tips of the ears, mingling with Gimli's red locks on the ground.

"Legolas."

"I cannot bear to part from you."

"Neither can I, but little choice we have. Our peoples need us, and their welfare is and must be our priority."

"I must be selfish, Gimli, dreadfully selfish, for no matter how many times we have repeated ourselves these words; I still don't want to go. I yearn to remain by your side, I pray the Valar for a way for us not to part. The sole idea of being far from you, not knowing where you are, not being able to come and find you somewhere near-"

"Peace. Legolas, peace," whispered Gimli, his open palm against the Elf's chest that was now moving frantically, in tune with his breathing.

Legolas, in turn, brought a hand to Gimli's face, fingers kindly finding their way through his beard. He was allowed to touch it, and he was well aware of what privilege it was. Would that be the last time he would feel the tickling hair between his fingers, as his palm met Gimli's cheek hidden under the red braids, as his fingertips caressed the rosy cheekbone and the sensitive, naked skin behind the ear?

He leaned in closer, his lips nearly touching Gimli's, as he closed his eyes- the Dwarf could swear that Legolas' lashes were wet at that point, and his heart sank.

"What if I married you. Right now, before we part, before we go."

Gimli's lips trembled. All he wished was to hold Legolas into his arms. He wanted to whisper his True Name into his delicate, pointy ear, no matter if Legolas had no Name to give him in turn. He would have been content to hear his own from the elven lips, to carve it out of Legolas' mouth as he made love to him until daybreak.

"A pair of miserable being would be, you and I, to forever bond right before being parted. How would I live, knowing that my spouse is far away? How would I spend years far from you, if we now shared a few hours of happiness?"

"I love you."

It was so sudden that it took Gimli a few moments to realize.

Straightforward.

Candid.

Genuine.

Oh, what had he done? Why had he crossed that line? Did he not know that those words would be like a dagger in his heart for the years to come?

"You have nothing to say to me?"

"How could I hurt you so, now that I've tasted such pain myself?"

"Pain be it, then. I need to feel. I need it to be something."

Gimli took a deep sigh. Oh how he wished he could give him joy, how he wished he could fill his elven heart with happiness.

"I love you. More than anything in this world, I love you."

"Can we not find a way, then? Gimli, dear, my dearest, can we not find a way?"

"Not tonight. Time is not on our side, that I know; I cannot give you forever. I wish I could give you every second I breathe, but that I cannot, either. All I can promise you is someday, when our duty is fulfilled. When we have seen to the safety and welfare of our Peoples, when we have given them a truly peaceful world to live in."

"Someday will do, then. Even if it is your last breath on this Earth, if you will share it with me, I will not have lived in vain."

A quiet, chaste kiss was all they indulged in before the dawning light told them it was time to go.

As they parted ways soon after, it had never felt so real- neither the love, nor the pain.

Someday. Someday would do. Someday would fix their hearts and souls.

[hqsoftboysupremecy]

D&D Personalities

What is D&D Personalities? That’s a great question. I love playing Dungeons and Dragons, and I thought, what better than to combine Anime and D&D!? These here are for my lovely Tumblr friends and my wonderful boyfriend. What I did was pick a D&D race and class based off of their personalities. I then went in depth on the class and race I chose. I will also include links and pictures for those that are more curious about it. I am showing these as an example of what I will be doing in the future for HQ characters...and maybe later on my amazing followers! Please sit back, and enjoy the lovely chaos that is Dungeons and Dragons.

Lydia- @ceo-of-daichi

Race:  Magicia (5e Race) - D&D Wiki (dandwiki.com) Class: https://www.dandwiki.com/wiki/Healer,_Variant_(5e_Class)

Description: For you I pick you as a Magica Healer. Magica are beings that appear human, although they have more varieties in their hair and eye color. Another thing that make Magica special is that they are born with magic, sort of like Sorcerers, but you also have some fey magic in you. Magica are also more intellect driven than humans are, and will also perform experiments. For you I imagine you would look for knowledge about things in the world, more so about things that you stumbled upon and wanted to learn more about. You would be a good asset to your party, but they might get annoyed with all the questions you ask about how things work. Healers are well, they heal. Healers are kind people and want to help those that have been hurt by the world. These two things are perfect for you because you are a very driven person and you are also super kind and caring. 

Nin- @crushzone

Race: https://www.dandwiki.com/wiki/Viera_(5e_Race) Class: https://www.dandwiki.com/wiki/Dancer,_3nd_Variant_(5e_Class)

Description:  Nin, you are a Viera Dancer. Viera are humanoid, but they have tall rabbit ears and other rabbit like features. With their long ears they are not only able to hear great distances, but they are also rumored to be able to hear spirits. One thing is that Viera are sensitive to magic, and when there is a high concentration of it near them they go berserk. (let's hope your party doesn't have a strong magic wielder) They have silver hair, but I imagine you would have your normal hair color. Now, Dancers are like Bards, but dancers get their magic...well from dancing. I tried to find a class that had to do with drawing but there wasn't one, but I thought the Dancer class was also a good fit. Especially because you being a Veria you would have long dancer-like limbs.

Carla: @scorpiosanssexy

Race: https://www.dndbeyond.com/races/half-elf Class: https://www.dandwiki.com/wiki/Witch_(5e_Class)

Description:  Carla, you are a Half-Elf Witch. As soon as I saw the witch class, i knew it was the one for you. As a half-elf you have slightly pointy ears, and are also in tune with nature. Some say half-elves have the good qualities of both their parents. Half-Elves can feel that they belong to neither elves or humans, but I feel that you would thrive in either. You would enjoy being who you are, and would love making friends along the way. Witches are, well you know. You would be a kind witch that people would go to for advice, and you would gladly give it to them. I feel that you would travel a lot, wanting to see and help as many people as you could. But sometimes you could try and get friendly with the wrong person, and that could cause some trouble for you and your party. 

Daisy: @heauxzenji

Race: https://www.dandwiki.com/wiki/Angelic_Succubus_(5e_Race) Class: https://www.dandwiki.com/wiki/Tarot_Mage_(5e_Class)

Description: Daisy, sweet sweet Daisy, you are an Angelic Succubus Tarot Mage. I knew immediately that your race would be a succubus, and being angelic too...bonus! Angelic Succubi have angelic wings ranging in color from black to white. Their only thoughts...sexual innuendos and lust. But they are people that wish to connect with others. I feel that you might cause a little chaos, but you would also want to just make friends. Only problem is, people can’t tell if your hitting on them or just being polite. Tarot Mage, well you use your special deck of tarot cards to help enhance yourself and to knock out enemies. You heavily rely on your cards, so you would have to train to be able to use the weapons and defend yourself. You would be a huge flirt with your party members, but they would all love and care for you regardless. 

Haley: @nonexistent-social-life​

Race: https://www.dndbeyond.com/races/elf Class: https://www.dandwiki.com/wiki/Awakener_(5e_Class)

Description: You would be an Elf Awakener. I feel that you would be a wood elf, so you would be me attuned to nature. You wouldn't be like typical elves, where they dislike those that are not of their kind. You’d have an open heart for everyone, but would definitely be slightly wary of them. I see that maybe you would like to spend most of your time in the woods with some animal friends of yours, but that your party would stumble upon you and would ask you to join them. Awakeners use plants and nature and have a strong devotion to them. Your whole life will revolve around them, and perhaps your goal will have something to do with them? I think that you would find a way to use your magical plant abilities to help others. And that you would be very dedicated to learning as much as you could. 

Ethan: @one-thicc-bish​

Race: https://www.dandwiki.com/wiki/Sword_Spirit_(5e_Race) Class: https://www.dndbeyond.com/classes/paladin

Description: Ethan, my love, you would be a Sword Spirit Paladin. Now before you judge me, hear me out. Sword Spirits are human, but their clothes heavily reflect their weapon. If their sword has runes on it, then their bodies will reflect those runes as tattoos on their arms. Sword Spirits are sent to do a certain task and help others. I think that you would be a Sword Spirit that perhaps doesn't have a calling, or maybe you just don't know what it is yet. Maybe even your task is to protect your party members and aid them in their journey. Paladins...well you know what those are, but i'm going to describe it anyways. Paladins get their magic and fighting prowess from a holy deity. You being a Sword Spirit, you would be doubly good in combat. You’d be bent on protecting your party members, or just people you found along the way. 

Jade: @honeybunny-sawamura​

Race: https://www.dandwiki.com/wiki/Anthousai_(5e_Race) Class: https://www.dandwiki.com/wiki/Entomancer_(5e_Class)

Description:  Sweet Jade! You would be an Anthousai Entomancer. You said you loved flowers and I knew this was the right race for you. Anthousai are like dyads, except for the flowers. You give off a sweet flower smell, and your skin is soft like petals! You would be a pretty pink Anthousai, and everyone would be envious of how pretty you are. Entomancers call on insects and bugs for their magic, in return that the bugs can use the user's body as a host. The bugs and insects would love your body, and you both would make a good pair. Your party would probably stumble upon you in the woods, and would be enchanted by you. You’d be a great addition to the group, and I imagine you would try to avoid conflict as much as possible.

[ishouldbestudyingprobably]

Hey uh- could i request another barley x reader? the previous one was so cute! maybe some sort of date night one-shot? whatever you chose!❤️

Thank you so much for requesting!! I’m gonna become the CEO of Barley fanfics LOL! (I’d gratefully take that title tho)

To put you on a bit of context, this takes place AFTER the movie unlike my previous one-shot, of course I’ll try to keep it as spoiler free as possible considering the movie is going to come out to Disney + in just a few days and some of you haven’t seen it yet, but maybe I slip something so, please beware.

Also, I have been reading more fanfics in English recently and noticed they are written in a you-did-this-and-said-that way instead of how we do them in Spanish; I’ll be continuing to them in my way unless you guys tell me it annoys you or something.

WELL, SORRY FOR KEEPING YOU WAITING, LET’S GET TO IT! ALSO THIS IS SO LONG SORRY--

(Y/N) definitely had no idea how she ended up on the Lightfoot’s home. Now, listen, it’s not that she didn’t like them ‘cause she as hell did it was just confusing considering a few hours prior to that she was just walking around the neighborhood.

“Ian, come on! Show her your magic!” Barley was having a hard time since he was trying so hard to make his little brother show the girl how his magic worked and poor Ian was shy about it, sure his confidence had been boosted but, come on, that was way too much pressure.

“Barley it’s okay, really, I believe you. I bet it’s amazing and you guys make an incredible team together. Let Ian go.” the girl chuckled seeing as the smaller elf smiled thankful and made his way out of the room feeling relieved.

“What? No! Ian get back here!!” see, the boy with a cast on his arm was hoping to use his brother as an excuse to have the female the longest time possible by his side, he was definitely going to ask her on a date but needed that boost of confidence being in a room with people gave.

Although now that they were alone he wouldn’t lie saying it wasn’t enjoyable, but soon that intimate moment of piece was to be broken by the young girl standing up making the bed rigid on the side she had been sitting on.

“This was... fun. But I really should get going home, my family would be worried plus it’s lunch time and... You know.” (Y/N) tried to excuse herself as politely as possible seeing as how she didn’t want to give the impression she wasn’t having fun and didn’t enjoy the presence of the older son of the Lightfoot’s family. Barley soon realized he had to jump now and ask her out or he’d never get the chance to. “Would you like to meet me? Alone? Maybe drive around, have dinner...” the boy put on his widest smile as if that were going to make her accept his invitation.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait. Are you... Asking me out? On a date? Tonight?” the girl replied trying to hide her grin while putting a strand of her voluminous hair behind her pointy ear which had efficiently caught the male’s attention. “I wouldn’t call it a date, more like a quest to make you fall in love with me because I totally am and it would be pretty cool if you did as well? But, you could always call it a date, I wouldn’t correct you even though you’re completely wrong.” that was enough to make the small elf chuckle which made Barley’s heart skip a few beats.

“It’d be a pleasure to help you complete this quest oh-so-awesome Barley Lightfoot. How about 8? No need for formal clothes, quests don’t require suits or dresses.” now it was him who was chuckling, how couldn’t he? His friend had never ever ever played his favourite roleplaying game yet always tried her best to make as much references to it without completely failing at the process, it was adorable. “8 sounds amazing. Farewell, oh-so-cool-to-play-games (Y/N) (S/N).”

And so the time came and the bell started ringing; one, two, three, four times and just as the fifth was about to made itself present the girl rushed to the door “Okay, okay got it! I’m coming!” grabbing the door handle she opened it revealing the young elf wearing a suit -well, a modified one since the sleeves of his jacket were completely gone and decided to wear jeans with the suit, formal for sure- contrasting with her usual clothing. “We said no dressing up!” the boy just shrugged and clearing his throat he moved to the side revealing Guinevere 2 in all its glory. “Shall we get going?” the girl smiled and gladly accepted getting out and making sure to close the door.

They made their way to the van and Barley hurried to open the door of the passenger seat bowing as his friend got inside and closed the door trying -and failing- to hide his smile. As soon as they were both seated the boy opened her mouth and took a folded piece of paper from his pocket. “So, (Y/N)... I hope your ready for our quest because I’ve been planning this all day!” slowly the boy opened the folded paper showing a drawn map of different places in Mushroomton that he thought would be of interest and appropriate for a date surprising his companion in the process. “Did you realy do that? That’s so impressive…” the male just smiled and motioned for her to hold the map and turned on the engine.

“Now my incredible partner, tell me, which is the first stop?” he couldn’t help the excitement his tone glad everything was going according to plan at the moment.

“Uhm, well, the exciting-full-of-teenagers house of fun?” what kind of name was that? The drawing didn’t really gave much about the place either, not only because his art skills weren’t exactly… Clear?

But because he modified them to be fitting on the Quests of Yore world. “Heading there!” and just like that the car drive began. They both were constantly talking and joking, it may have been a date-quest thing but after all they were still friends, why would they be quiet?

When they finally arrived to the place she got out the car excited to see what it was about and found a luminous neon sign indicating the entry to the arcade.

“The arcade was the exciting-full-of-teenagers house?” again the elf just shrugged grinning which made the female roll her eyes. “Amazing! I’m actually thinking this is going to be the greatest day of my life…”

What can I say? Videogames were definitely something they both were extremely good at and that sparked a tiny competition between them. Driving games? You bet! That knock the clown game that’s always typically seen in carnivals at those cheesy romantic movies? Yup! In the end they decided to count the tickets each one got to decide a winner.

“I’ve got… 238 tickets, how about you, Lightfoot?” the boy didn’t seem happy and (Y/N) soon knew he was dreading his defeat. “I got 197....” mockery could be heard from the female’s lips before they cut off the rivalry and decided to combine both of their tickets getting 435 tickets which were enough for…

“A unicorn rubber?!” the girl sighed as they were gettin in the car again. “I hate this stupid games, they’re fun but you alway have to win around a billion tickets to actually WIN something.” she continued ranting, something Barley found really entertaining but cut her off mid sentence as they were running out of time. “When did you have to get home?” it effectively cut her off. There was a small silence

before she could respond “Around 10 I believe, you know how they are…” he just nodded and looked at his watch; it was 9:17 meaning they had to do a shortcut on their plans.

“Okay, we’re runnin out of time, skip the following two places and tell me the next one after them.” she did as asked and traced the drawn road with her fingers. “It says brainwash.” an odd name for sure.

“Brainwash it is.”

Of course, brainwash was referring to movies, they were going to watch a movie specifically a drive in movie, is there anything more romantic than that? No.

“Barley… This is so sweet, thank you! What movie are they playing?” turning her head towards the giggly boy she asked nothing but amusement in her face. “No idea. I’m gonna go grab popcorn, make yourself comfortable on top of Guinevere 2, please.” just like that he was gone and (Y/N) had a new adventure, finding the way she could get on the van’s roof.

After a while Barley got back with a huge stack of popcorn finding her loved one on the roof, smiling to himself he admired all of her features. Soon he got on top shaking the oh-so-special van on the process. “Here’s the popcoooorn!” he announced with an excited tone and put them between him and the girl.

The movie was ten minutes in and no noise was heard but the sound of chewing popcorn. Leaning in the female asked in the boy’s ear “Do you like this movie?” he replied in a whisper “No it’s so boring.” that’s when they both started laughing being shushed by the cars around them. “Let’s get out of here. We still have twenty minutes left.” Without bothering to take the popcorn they both walked north finding a calm forest where they laid on the grass looking at the sky. “So, Barley, is it true? That you like me?”

That was a very direct question he definitely wasn’t prepared for “Well, of course it is! You’re an incredible girl, an incredible friend and I bet you’d be an incredible girlfriend!” the girl chuckled making Barley’s heart melt. And then, he asked “Do you like me?”. Silence hurts, so much, but before any assumption could be made she replied “Yes, of course I do.”

Silence again.

“So, have you completed your quest now?” (Y/N) curiously asked. “I still have one more thing to do.” and, the kiss came.

QUEST COMPLETED.

Oh boy was that long... Hope you enjoyed your request and for everyone else, request! Don't be shy!

TAGLIST:

@ferox-imagines @s-ferox

[is-that-another-soulmate-au]

A suggestion/request from @bon-fly

Medieval Au Zukka, I would have added more detail about the other ships but it had already much longer than I anticipated

✨Enjoy✨

"What ever could be the problem my lord?" Came the characteristically grumpy voice of Zuko's Dwarflven Mage Toph

He leaned back from his slouched position to look at the blind woman. "It's nothing much really. I Just... I need to summon the southern knights for the Avatar honoring" he gave a sigh

"Then summon them" she said simply while leaning on his throne. There was a few other advisors in the room, none of them were ever expecting Toph's brash behavior towards the king or the fact that he took it. The high elven king never once found his Dwarven mage's behavior to be uncalled for. His reasoning was simple. She was a friend, one which would lay her life down for his just as he would hers.

"Its not that simple Toph, he's going to be with them" Zuko leaned his elbow on the table and pressed his hand to his forehead.

"If I may, My lord, the avatar is technically escorting the knights, not the other way around" advisor Tayko offered

Zuko gave a snort "thats not who I'm worried about Tayko, but I appreciate the sentiment. Its the Cheif's... ehm, son"

"Did he do something wrong my lord?" Tayko asked with narrowed eyes

"More like he did everything right and managed to fluster mister pointy ears" Toph bellowed and Zuko flushed a deep red

"Shut it Toph!" But he laughed with her "she is right though... I'm just, nervous is all, dont worry Tayko, I'll have the letter written by tonight"

Tayko, still being wary of how Toph behaved but understanding that her king was very brash with people who acted out of line, gave a smile "my lord, may I say something?"

Zuko sat straight and looked at her warily "go on Tayko"

"It is to my knowledge that most people don't support miss Toph being here, but I have never seen anyone make you smile as she has," she paused and looked at her hands in her lap "I'm very happy to see you smile again"

"Well, its nice that someone noticed, thank you Tayko" Toph said with a big grin spread from ear to ear across her cheeks. "Now, Zuko has some writing to do, so run along, I will fetch you when it is written"

Not long after Tayko scurried off she was fetched once more and given the letter to send by hawk to summon the southern nights and the avatar. The hawk response came by the next evening when Toph was training Zuko to react faster on both sides, not just his good side. "I know you're not a dwarf but ANYONE can feel the vibrations, and you're clear proof of that" Toph said as she watched the king use his blades and flames to expertly block and deflect each rock sent his way.

"My lord" Tayko spoke suddenly from behind Toph and had a blade fly past her head missing by a good six inches "Eep!" She tensed while he took off his blindfold

"Sorry Tayko, you startled me" Zuko gave a sheepish grin "what did you need?"

"The uh.." she moved away from the wall with a sigh "the Southern Chief sent back, they will be here in three days time. Shall I summon Lady Mai and Ty Lee?"

Zuko gave a huff and slouched his shoulders, his pointed ears slanting downward as well "that would be best, though they won't be happy to be summoned so soon after their honeymoon"

The pair most certainly weren't, the arrival of them was easy to notice because a knife flew past Zuko's head, barely grazing his ear and landed on his throne "ah, Mai, sorry to summon you so early after you two wed, but youre the only ones capable of pulling off a three day party planning."

"You are going to owe use so many fruit tarts!" Mai spoke harshly as she stormed into the room

"Yeah! With rose petals!" Ty Lee backed up her wife with a much softer voice.

Mai smiled softly at Ty Lee and placed a quick kiss to her forehead "thank you darling."

"Of course, you'll have all the reward you like, but we have to prepare for the avatar and Sokka." Zuko said with a wave of his hand.

"You mean the Avatar and the Southern Knights" Mai pointed out

"Thats what I said"

By the time the third day of planning had finished the kingdom was decked out with shimmering blue flowers of all assortments, ribbons and the like were draped around anything that seemed fit to the recently weds.

At high noon Zuko was found with Ming fixing his hair and Ursa helping him with his robes and jewels. "He'll be here soon Mom"

"I know sweetie, but you need not worry, the Avatar will appreciate the festivities you have set out for him and the knights" Ursa reassured her son while tying off the last bit of silk and Ming slid in the metal hold for his hair piece.

"Thats not who he meant lady Ursa" Toph said bluntly. Ursa turned to the blind dwarf behind her who had a soft smile on her face rather than her normal mischief coated expression. "My lord, they've arrived at the gates"

Zuko flushed "lead the way" and she did. She lead him down the many stairs, with his many layers of silk flowing freely behind him. They followed the winding paths of the kingdom streets until they reached the Knights and Avatar. Chief Hakoda and Bato stood with Sokka on their right and Katara on their left with Avatar Aang in the middle. A hobbit at maybe their hips was a humorous sight indeed, but Zuko's focus was on someone else.

Sokka stood in his formal attire, a pale blue high collar robe ending at his shoulders but his arms covered by a a deep blue draping silk over dress connected in the center by a fire opal jewel. Zuko was of course caught staring by the chiefs themselves "ahem, Lord Zuko?" Bato spoke up with a raised brow

"Oh, uh! My apologies, welcome to my kingdom," he turned to look at Aang who smirked when he noticed the flush on Zuko's cheeks "thank you for coming to the honoring Avatar Aang"

"Say, Lord Zuko, Sokka told me about his last trip here.. well, technically he spoke mostly of you, not much variety in his stories I'll tell you tha-!" The small boy was silenced by a hand over his mouth from a flustered Sokka.

The blue eyed boy stammered out a "sorry about him, he loves to blurt things out without thinking them through!"

"Sounds like someone else I know" Katara said with her hand on her hips. From just looking at her ears he could tell that she was a bender, and a powerful one at that. "Sorry about that Zuko, my brother and Aang love getting on eachothers nerves, especially about you" she rolled her eyes

Zuko however was as red as his robes "oh, uh, thats perfectly alright, Toph, would you mind showing them to their quarters?"

Toph gave a laugh "you want a blind dwarf to lead four southern elves and a hobbit to their living quarters?"

"You may be blind but you can easily see, and you know it Toph-" a rock hit the back of his head and he yelped before giving her a pout

"Haaah! Yeah, youre right, but don't you wanna show baby blue to his room?"

Zuko gave a huff "Chief Hakoda, Cheif Bato, Warrior Karata and Avatar Aang please follow Mage Beifong to your living quarters. Warrior Sokka, I need a word with you about that design you sent over last moon, so I will show you to your room"

"Oh, of course" and with that the group left the two man alone to walk to the palace. For a short while they were quiet but Sokka broke the silence by linking arms "so, about those designs, I was thinking we could easily make a cart that didn't need any animal to pul it if we just used"

Zuko didnt hear much besides Sokka's voice, too lost in the fact that he was finally here to understand what the sounds meant together until they made it into the castle and Sokka tugged him into a small broom closet "I know why you actually separated me from the others"

Zuko cleared his throat "im sure you are aware of my reasons, but you did not need to drag me in here, if you were worried about someone catching wind you made the mistake of going into a broom closet with one of my maids already in here" he turned to help her up "sorry miss Jin, I'll give you the day off paid in full"

Zuko then took hold of Sokka's hand and dragged him out of the small room and back to the empty hallway. "Hah, my bad" Sokka said with a small voice crack

"Don't worry about it, thought you shouldn't worry about the staff catching wind of this sort of thing, everyone here adores you, I hope you know that" Zuko chuckled

"What sort of thing?" Sokka feigned innocence and Zuko being ever so gullible fell for it with a flushed face

"Oh! I'm sorry, I just thought that, maybe you had caught onto my affections for you, and reciprocated them. What did you think I-!!" The king didn't have much room to continue his awkward words because Sokka planted a quick kiss to his cheek to silence him

"Of course I do Zuko, and I was only teasing, you really should be better at spotting that with Toph being around you all the time, hah, she plays the- hey! Where are we going?"

Zuko said nothing, and just dragged him to the room he was to be staying in for the week of festivities and slammed the door behind them. "Don't. Don't.... don't tease me about that okay? I'm not entirely used to anyone returning affections since... well" he genstured to his burn scar and damaged ear.

"Oh, oh Zuko no, Zuko I'm sorry, I didnt realize... I'm sorry" Sokka took the shorter elf's face in his hands and forced him to look him in the eyes "Zuko you're beautiful, I can't get over how stunning you looked under the moonlight the first time we met. And what's even more stunning about you is the ability to make a confession walk seem like a diplomatic walk to anyone but the two of us. You really do have a way with words"

Zuko was practically melting in the hands of the southern warrior, "you... you really think that of me?" He asked with a shy softness to his voice.

Sokka couldnt help the fond chuckle "Of course I do Zuko, now, if its not too much, may I give you a real kiss this time?"

All Sokka needed was a small nod and he sealed the distance between them. Every mile, every inch, every millimeter of distance that had ever been between the fire elven king and Southern elven warrior was gone, and all that remained was stars.

The two wed thirteen moons later, with a promise to protect, love, and trust one another in this life and every life that came after.

[sunflowers-heart]

October 20th – Haunted Building

13 Days of Spooky Writing Event

Pairing: Tauriel x Reader

Word count: 1,914

Warnings: None

Author’s note: I have literally no idea what happened here, this story practically wrote itself. :) Also, it takes place in modern setting!

You could still recall the excitement flowing through your veins like a molten gold, the sweet buzzing in your heart and the warm squeeze in your stomach when you finally heard the words you were dreaming about for so long now. It was hard to comprehend that they were not part of your wild imagination, nor another made up scenario you created in your head right before falling asleep—those were actually real. Her offer was honest and it was no kind of joke, you did not misunderstand anything from the very direct and simple invitation, it was no mistake.

Tauriel truly asked you to join her in the amusement park next Tuesday.

However, right when the very first wave of bliss eventually faded away, you started to worry and as the time passed, the anxiety growing in your mind seemed to expand, almost completely blinding the previous joy. Countless questions piled, one more ridiculous than another but every single one of them occupying your thoughts for longer than you would want it to. It was enough to be stressed about meeting with the prettiest, the most talented and charismatic girl in your university—or so you considered her—worrying about any other, more or less possible scenario happening during that day was unnecessary for your already cluttered head.

What if she did not mean only you two, but some of her other friends also? There were always people surrounding her, two particularly handsome and apparently polar opposite boys accompanying her more often than the others. What if it was supposed to be simply a group meeting? What if you would make a fool of yourself one way or another? And most importantly, what if she did not see you the same way you saw her?

You barely managed to fall asleep for the whole hour at least during the night before, now nowhere near excited but rather scared of what was coming up. It was either the best opportunity to finally start talking to her about something less trivial or to prove her that you were not worth her time. Your worry increased as the inevitable hour was getting closer and closer and it peaked when you were standing at the amusement park’s main gate.

Although the afternoon was chilly, there was a lot of people on the carousels, buying deliciously smelling snacks and running from one attraction to another in a hurry. The sky became dark some time ago but it only made all the decorations and lanterns light more brightly, the variety of sounds and colours surrounding you from every direction. Fallen leaves rustled on the wind, the trees reached their branches up like a shadowy claws of some nightmare creatures and the overwhelming aura of upcoming Halloween was visible in every single corner of the fair.

Still, all you could think of was her. What are you going to talk about? Will Legolas be there, too? Perhaps you should eat something before going out, your stomach was starting to grumble but the stress prevented you from eating anything quite successfully. You were present few minutes ahead of time (speaking of making a good first impression) and you felt like waiting for her will be the worst part of it all. Once you start to talk, things should go smooth from that point.

Right…?

“There you are!” Tauriel’s voice cut through the cacophony of mechanical melodies, children’s giggling and screams of those who dared to try the hammer ride, and it was both the most breath-taking and frightening moment of your life. Slowly, you spun around to face her and saw the gentle smile on her sharp features. “I started to worry you won’t come.”

Quick peek over her shoulder proved you that she had no company this time. Just you and her.

“Why shouldn’t I?” You sighed with relief after your recent discovery. “I told you I’ll be here. Besides, I’d let you know beforehand if something happened.”

“I’m glad it didn’t then.” She looked at the booth you were standing next to and eyed the spooky themed candies before continuing. “Should we head to the main attraction of the day or do you want to buy something?”

Even though you liked the bat-shaped lollipop, you have forgotten about it already and agreed to go with her. The screams of those stuck on the rollercoaster did not create the most romantic mood but all you could think of was how picturesque her long hair looked in this peculiar scenery, ginger colour fitting her green blouse perfectly.

You wondered how would it feel to run your fingers through them.

The house of mirrors was an excellent choice for the first attraction to attend to, and you were proud that it was your idea to try it out. It was not as extreme as some rides and you had an opportunity to hear Tauriel laugh out loud, which happened to be yet another of her many advantages—her voice so carefree and fresh like a spring morning. Or maybe, you were simply growing too poetical around her.

“The labyrinth was fun,” she stated once you were out of the hall. “But I have to admit I lost the tracks at some point.”

“And why didn’t you tell me so? I told you I can find a way out just fine.”

“I didn’t want to ruin the great first impression. Plus, I was supposed to be the guide, right?” She winked at you.

“Next time I’m going to be the guide. No getting lost and certainly no mirrors which make your face look like a smashed potato.”

Tauriel chuckled and agreed with your words.

“Certainly. But you have to admit, the one which made us really tall was interesting. I suppose I could get used to being that tall.”

“It would suit you well,” you nodded and felt the next sentence leave past your lips before you managed to stop it. “And your adorable pointy ears.”

Tauriel suddenly stood still and reached her ears with the hands, replying to you before the wave of embarrassment managed to drown you completely:

“Do you really think they’re pointy?” She touched the tips, her expression unreadable.

Vaguely gesturing, you tried to desperately think of an answer which would not discredit you in her eyes.

“I think they’re pretty. A little bit pointy, yes, but I always thought it gives you this mystical look. Like an elf or something...” With every next word, your tone was becoming quieter, until you finished your sentence with a forced smile, hoping that you managed to convince her that you meant no harm.

For a moment, she did not answer you, instead tilting her head to the side and then lightening up, before saying:

“Well then, thank you for the compliment. Still, I believe they’re not even partly as ravishing as your eyes, my dear.”

Contrary to the previous idea, the one Tauriel came up with appeared as more concerning in your opinion. It was not the matter of being scared per se, but rather the possibility of doing something reckless in front of her. You wanted her to like you, to think of you as no less interesting than all the boys she was surrounded with, and even though you knew that you cared about her opinion way more than you should, it was impossible to stop. Not now, when your repressed feelings were finally finding a way out. It could be the only one opportunity to impress her and you were certainly not going to waste it on anxiety.

Or so you thought.

“It’s a really, really bad idea,” you whispered after crossing yet another corridor in the haunted house. “I don’t like it at all, it’s way too quiet.”

“It can only mean one thing,” Tauriel pointed out matter-of-factly. “Soon we’ll witness something spooky.”

Holding your breath, you did your best to not let the heart jump out of your ribcage. You were as close to Tauriel as possible, naturally, keeping in mind to not cross the line of her personal space. As much as you wanted to hold her hand, you were not sure if she would approve it. The corridor, on the other hand, seemed to be endless, decorated in fake webs, some splattered blood and other remotely disturbing decorations, none of which jumped on you all of a sudden.

The booth with candies was much more entertaining but right now there was no coming back, nor time to complain.

Tauriel stopped abruptly and placed a finger to her lips, only then pointing at the closed door you reached to. There was no way it was going to be simply a part of decorations, you admitted bitterly, surely you were being watched and had to experience a pitiful attempt to frighten you based on primal, human instincts and yet—

You did not expect for the hairy monster to jump at you so suddenly but even less did you expect Tauriel to grab your hand, shield you with her body and pull you after herself further into the corridor. From the perspective of running, all the stuffed creatures were not as scary as they could be if you paid the whole attention to them and even if you did, Tauriel’s fingers closed on your wrist were enough to make you focus on something completely, completely different.

She was holding your hand, Tauriel was holding your cold, clammy hand as you both ran through the haunted house, avoiding the jump scares and traps and laughing so hard that your stomach started to hurt. Maybe it was the nerves which made you act so ridiculously or maybe in that moment you were ironically the happiest person on the whole planet, when nothing but you two mattered—you, your connected hands and the silly run through the corridor full of plastic figures and eerie sounds.

No kind of love tunnel could bring as much adoration from you as the haunted house on that windy, autumn afternoon.

When you finally managed to find a way out, you noticed how Tauriel’s cheeks were slightly redden from the effort and emotions but the smile on her face still lasted and the spark of joy present in her gaze as she looked at you.

“Are you alright?” she asked and let go of your hand, muttering. “Sorry for your sleeve.”

“Yeah,” you breathed out. “Yeah, I’m fine. But I suppose I’ve had enough for one day.”

“And for the rest of my life, too,” she admitted and noticing your puzzled expression, quickly added. “I’m not really fond of those places, you know. But I can’t say this idea wasn’t successful.”

“What do you mean?”

“Playing your knight in shining armour against that bear-like-whatever was quite entertaining.”

This time you were more than sure that she winked at you, there was no mistake, her playful expression proved that well.

“Oh…” you were speechless. “Well then, I like the sound of that.”

“Good, because next time I’m going to use my marvellous skills with a bow and arrow to slay the dragon. But first, what would my princess say for a cup of mulled wine?”

You allowed her fingers to meet yours in a delicate grasp, when you slowly headed back to the food booths, all the anxiety leaving you as soon as you felt the cold air on your skin and Tauriel’s hand upon yours once again.

“She’d like that,” you nodded. “Very much so.”

[vera-simik]

About my witcher kiddo

 I was tagged by @lenkalost​ and @edenorisshitposting​ & I want to apologize this took me forever to complete 😅

LAYER ONE : THE OUTSIDE

Eye Color: Golden (sky-blue before mutation)

Name: Weron

Hair Style/Color: honey blonde, usually worn in a low bun, sometimes in a high ponytail

Height: Cca 170 cm

Clothing Style: Anything that’s practical and comfortable

Best Physical Feature: Freckles, eyes, and hair

LAYER TWO: THE INSIDE

Fears: Losing those who are dear to her. Already happened a few times, though...

Ambition for the Future: To live as happy life as possible, to help those who need it, never giving up on trying to find a way to "repair" her damaged memory... And she's also open to a possibility of settling down somewhere in the future, with someone who would like to share it with her (preferably someone with pointy ears... come on, a girl can dream)

Guilty Pleasure: Colorful and patterned mugs and socks/shawls/blankets... She knows she already has too many of them, but... one more CAN'T hurt, right?

Biggest Pet Peeve: Ignorant people & know-it-alls

LAYER THREE: THOUGHTS

First Thoughts Waking Up: “Five more minutes...”

What They Think About the Most: Her thoughts are usually all over the place, but mostly it's reminding herself to do [the thing which is important at the moment], not forget to eat/go to sleep already, what would her grandpa/uncles do [at this situation], oh, this blanket is really pretty...

What They Think About Before Bed: "If dopplers' clothing is part of their body, can they... get undressed...?"

What They Think Their Best Quality Is: She can get along with almost anyone easily.

LAYER FOUR: WHAT’S BETTER?

Single or Group Dates: "Single, of course. I like to talk with the other person without being interrupted by someone else."

To be Loved or Respected: “It certainly isn’t bad to be respected... but I’d prefer to be loved, thank you.”

Beauty or Brains: “Brains, I already AM beautiful... haha... ha... am I the only one laughing? Ok...”

Dogs or Cats: “I don’t like dogs and cats don’t like me. Well... this is a though one...”

LAYER FIVE: DO YOU?

Lie: “I’m trying to lie as little as possible. It’s easier when you don’t have to remember what you said.”

Believe in Yourself: “Sure I do. You know, someone has to...”

Believe in Love: “It certainly isn’t bad to be respected... but I’d prefer to be loved, thank you.”

Want Someone: "Uhh... NEXT QUESTION, PLEASE?"

LAYER SIX: HAVE YOU EVER?

Been on Stage: “Nah, never. I don’t think I could memorize my lines, hah.”

Done Drugs: Never

Changed Who You Were to Fit In: She tries to be true to herself most of the time (although, if the situation calls for it because of tactical reasons...)

LAYER SEVEN: WHAT’S THEIR…

Favourite colours: Dark blue, yellow, lavender purple, crimson and cherry red...

Favourite animal: Owls

Favourite book: Various bestiaries and history books (as well as some cheap romance novels, but that’s a secret)

Favourite game: Gwent. She's not good at it, but enjoys it nonetheless

LAYER EIGHT: AGE

DOB: She doesn’t know, in fact no one knows (but the Creator says it’s more or less half a year after Ciri was born)

How Old Will You Be: 20/21 during the events of TW3 

Age You Lost Your Virginity: 17 (it was in Wyzima, with an elf... and it was kinda nice, even if a bit awkward)

Does Age Matter: "Ehh... this really depends on context. Is it about old people finding love? Then the age doesn't matter. Is it about someone making disgusting suggestions to a person several decades younger than them? Then it does & die by my sword, creep."

LAYER NINE: FINISH THE SENTENCE

I love: “My friends and my family... and warm blankets... and that special coffee uncle Eskel makes... and...”

I feel: “Constant curiosity”

I hide: “My diaries. It really ISN’T funny when someone reads them OUT LOUD, right, uncle Lambert AND Ciri?!”

I miss: “Uncle Coen... and all those days everything used to be a lot easier...”

I wish: “All the best to those who are dear to me.”

.

.

.

I should tag someone, right? Well... it's been so long since I was tagged, so I don't know who already did this...

Ok, enough of this, I'm tagging... @akishito & @wackylurker (if you want to, of course 😄)

[pokemonswshbutionlyplayedsword]

Wut do u think the gym leaders would dress up as for Halloween?

I like Halloween asks a lot because it can be either goofy or metaphorical. We’ll see where this one goes. Also, this’ll just be for a Halloween that has happened. This will also take place at a Halloween party that Rose throws because then I force myself to give everyone a costume by preventing myself from being able to say someone didn’t go. Also, of course, Rose would.

Milo:

-Honestly, I can see him not being a huge fan of Halloween. As a farm boy, he’s not a huge fan of candy. He also does not like being scared and dislikes horror content.

-However, he tries to get with the spirits and puts together a pretty neat minotaur costume. He wants to incorporate animals, but he doesn’t want to look cliche. It’s really impressive actually, and it works because he’s beefy. He gets a lot of compliments, but he wishes Rose’s lame Halloween party would end because the clip-on nose ring is starting to get sore. Halloween costumes are not meant to be comfortable. They are meant to be cool and don’t ever forget it. It’s about the aesthetic.

Nessa:

-Classic cute witch. Not an ugly one with a long nose. She wants to keep it simple and classy. Short black dress, green and black tights and black heels with green puffs at the ankle. A big witch hat and maybe a prop broom if she’s feeling bold.

-She has killer pictures for her social media. She looks so good and she knows it. Although it’s simple, Nessa has one of the best costumes out of the league. She was one of the few to enjoy Rose’s annual Halloween part because she got so many compliments and a lot of attention and also she won the costume competition again.

-She considered mermaid, but she didn’t know how to make it look good and also be able to walk, so that was over quickly.

Kabu:

-Kabu is not a big Halloween person. He doesn’t really want to go to the party, but he stays on brand and chooses a fire type pokemon to dress up as. He puts together a pretty classy Pyroar costume. It’s subtle, more like an inspired outfit, but it works well enough for people to know what he means.

-He strays away from traditional costumes because that’s not really his tradition. He usually always throws on an outfit that resembles what he’s trying to portray. Fortunately, he’s skillful enough to do it tastefully.

Bea:

-Ninja. Haha. Martial arts. She doesn’t hide her face with a mask, but her outfit is clear enough. While ninjas don’t really do martial arts, as she has to correct people all night, it was pretty fun anyway. She doesn’t like candy, but she does like dressing up.

-She doesn’t like Rose’s party, though. No one really does, but she dislikes it for different reasons. Every guest is so ignorant and she spend the night explaining to everyone why ninjas don’t do martial arts and what they actually are. She wishes she was old enough to drink so she could have something to pass the time with.

Allister:

-A spooky skeleton. He’s got an all black suit with bones on it. He also swaps his mask out with one that looks like a skull. He’s a bit bored at Rose’s party, though, because he’s the only kid there, other than Marnie, Hop and Bede, since they had to be there as well, but they’re still a bit older. They entertain him, though, at least Hop and Marnie do.

-He likes Halloween a lot. Spooky. Ghosties. Candy. It’s his favorite day of the year. Even more than his birthday. Rose’s party goes by with people talking to him about how much he loves Halloween and how fitting it is for the ghost type specialist.

Opal:

-A fairy. What else, though? Maybe even Queen Mab. She’s really elegant. She has big long wings draped behind her and a stunning old gown. She also made herself a crown of sticks and flowers to really fit the faerie aesthetic. She got second in the costume competition.

-She spends most of the time sitting and chatting, so people didn’t really get a good look at her costume until the end of the evening, but oh boy, did she shine.

Gordie:

-An ogre. He paints his face green and gets fake teeth to put on, as well as pointy ears. The teeth make it a bit hard to talk, and he unfortunately has to forgo the sunglasses to make it a good costume.

-A lot of compliments. A lot of people asked why he didn’t dress as a rock monster and all he can say is he would never glue a bunch of rocks to his body for a costume. Which is fair but also unnecessary.

Melony:

-Ice queen. Not Elsa, though. Just a queen with icy powers. She puts her hair up in an elaborate bun and has an “icicle” crown and a long blue dress. She looks very nice, like formal, but that doesn’t stop people from coming up and being casual, which is something she was worried about.

-Her dress had a bunch of fake fur and stuff like that to fit the theme, but Melony had to take the overcoat off every once in a while because Rose’s mansion (which is where the party takes place) is like a furnace to her. It was worth it, though.

Piers:

-A vampire. This is one of the few things that Piers is enthusiastic about because he really likes Halloween. He’s got a great costume for it, too, since he can find the perfect style for it so easily in Spikemuth. So maybe he’s worn the same costume three years in a row, but he also got third place in the costume contest for three years in a row, so sue him.

-He spent the day before the party putting his hair in an elaborate braid for the Aesthetic. Maybe a little bit of makeup and fake fangs to really get into it, but he couldn’t spend too much time. As per usual, he also had to help Marnie get ready, because she had to come with him. Close family of gym leaders and those that were invited are also welcome, and Piers doesn’t want to leave her alone on Halloween.

Raihan:

-A knight. It’s a sick costume, and... Wait, no, Raihan. You’re wearing actual armor. Like, metal armor. Isn’t that hot? Yeah, it really is, but anything for the look. He’s been trying to beat Piers in the costume contest since last year, but he can’t. Because he has to take it off halfway through the party because it gets too hot. When will he learn?

-To be fair, it looks really good. He’s got enough knowledge in history and money to make an accurate suit of armor. Fortunately, he makes the sword fake, so he can get in, though. He’s stopped and searched by security a few times, just to make sure the sword’s a handle glued to the scabbard.

Leon:

-I’m sure this is pretty obvious, but a king. He’s got a big crown, and he swaps out his usual cape for an even bigger one, because of course he does. Some people are confused why Leon’s the kind and not Rose, but no one asks. Leon doesn’t get a lot of time to work on it, since he’s so busy, but he comes through with a solid costume anyway.

-In fact, as Champion, he gets a throne anyway at the end of the night, when everyone sits down and awards/prizes/ect. are handed out. So it fits. He wishes he could put a crown on Charizard, too, but his buddy just isn’t having any of it.

I’ve got some bonuses for you, anon, since I like this prompt so much.

Rose:

-Rose is a Copperajah. He wears an intricate mask and suit to keep it classy. It’s a nice costume, but you can tell not a lot of effort and thought went into it.

-Oleana made it for the most part. Well, she bought it. Rose didn’t even know what his costume was until he got ready for the party.

Oleana:

-She didn’t want to dress up, but she had to. She went with a devil. She knows this doesn’t bode well for her, but she doesn’t care. It’s not like anyone’s bold enough to say anything to her face anyways.

-She has a red suit, little horns, a tail on the back of her belt and a plastic pitchfork. It doesn’t get in the way much, since she sticks close to Rose anyway. Some of the gym leaders joke to each other when she’s not around. Nothing mean, usually lighthearted. They’re not jerks.

Hop:

-Being Leon’s little brother, Hop is invited. He’s pretty happy. It beats trick or treating because he gets to hang out with Marnie. Unfortunately, Bede’s not in the friend group yet because this is before the game. Anyway, Hop is an elf.

-He has a pretty simple costume, but it works. Pointed ears, a simple, elvish outfit and a fake bow to wear over his shoulder. No arrows, though, but he knew that already.

Marnie:

-She goes with Piers to a) keep him sane b) prevent herself from being alone on Halloween and c) to hang out with Hop. She’s a vampire, much like her brother. In fact, they’re pretty much matching. A bunch of people think it’s cute that brother and sister match each other, but really, Marnie did it because it was easy.

-She does take the fake fangs out pretty early, though. Not that it’s a big deal, but bobbing for apples is, surprisingly, harder with sharp elongated fake teeth. Also, she bit her tongue and it’s just not worth it. She loves Halloween, but what good is it if she tears her tongue of before she gets to eat any candy.

Bede:

-Bede is a mummy. Wrapped up in a mummy costume and stuff. He goes because he’s with Rose. He doesn’t do much, though. Hop and Marnie try to invite him to join them, but he doesn’t associate with rubbish like them. Oh, you sweet summer child. Soon, you’ll learn the value of these two.

-He ends up being pretty bored and wishing a little bit that he’d accepted their offer because they looked like they were having fun. Allister comes and talks to him for a little bit, though, so it’s not all bad. And he gets candy, too, so that’s cool.

[sadoeuphemist]

Once upon a time, when magic still flourished on the outskirts of the world, all sorts of benevolent and capricious creatures lay in wait for any small kindness, ready to bestow boons upon some humble woodcutter, or maiden come to draw water from the well. Some would conjure up instruments of pure gold as gifts, some transformed pumpkins into carriages, others still handed out magical treasures so as to revolutionize a humble human’s life forever.

And among all the countless blessings a single kindness could bring, there lived an elf, whose sole magical talent was making shoes.

His name was Wurtchel, and to accommodate his talent he had moved into the basement of a poor but goodhearted shoemaker, and only emerged at night to replenish the shoemaker’s stores. He would wave his spindly fingers, curl up his toes, and with the innate magical talent other elves might have used to make gold, conjured a pair of leather shoes into being.

Looking at the lumpy dull leather shoes afterwards, like a pair of shrunken chopped-off feet, was always depressing. They weren’t even particularly good quality shoes, honestly; the old shoemaker outdid him on that account. And while the old man was always grateful to have an extra pair of shoes to sell - surplus inventory, marked down - it could hardly be said that Wurtchel was having any sort of transformative effect on his chosen beneficiary. He had been doing this for six weeks now, and the poor shoemaker was still unquestionably a poor shoemaker. 

One day, Wurtchel was walking back to the shoemaker’s shop through the woods, having gone to visit his parents. Their specialty was handing out axes made of gold. Wurtchel had done the math in his head as to how many poor-quality leather shoes a single gold axe could buy, and was now more depressed than ever about his life, and in general his effect upon the world. Through the overgrowth, he heard a rustling, and as he turned to look the branches parted and a beautiful young maiden burst through, wincing as she bounded along in a sort of painful hobbling run.

“Oh!” she said, nearly bumping into him, and froze in her tracks, staring.

Wurtchel hastily mumbled a greeting, trying to remember what it was you were supposed to say when you encountered someone obviously in need out in the wilderness like this. He had been domesticated, he supposed. He’d never even talked to the old shoemaker face to face. “Erm, are you in trouble?” is what he settled on. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Oh,” she said again, her face relaxing into relief. She doubled over for a moment, leaning heavily against a tree. “Yes. Just escaped my evil stepmother. She locked me up in that tower over there,” she said, pointing.

Wurtchel had noticed the tower in the distance before, an edifice of black stone with no obvious doors, highly formidable and clearly meant to hold a prisoner, and had very sensibly ignored it. ��Ah,” he said.

“I’m going to find my true love,” she went on, somewhat breathlessly. “My evil stepmother went out to the market for the day, and I took my chance. We’ve been exchanging messages by birds, my true love and I, and she’s escaping her evil stepmother too, and we’re planning to meet up at Holtzheim by nightfall-”

“Uh-huh,” said Wurtchel, desperately wracking his brains for any way he could be of help. He did not know the way to Holtzheim, and would be scant protection when traveling, and in fact hated being out of the basement and was already anxious enough over his visit to his parents.

He briefly wondered if a golden axe would help in her predicament, and decided that in her vulnerable state it was more likely to get her robbed. “Well, I mean, erm .... good luck with that ...”

“Oh, thank you,” she said absently, and winced again, and reached down to rub at her feet, and Wurtchel looked down and almost forgot to breathe.

The young woman was barefoot.

The tender white soles of her feet were quite filthy, with bits of gravel and briar embedded in them, bleeding from scrapes here and there. Wurtchel felt such a rush of hope that it was almost indecent, and then felt ashamed of himself for getting so excited over the evidence of her suffering. “I - I could -” he started to say, his voice cracking, and then coughed and then steadied himself. “W-Would you like me to make you some shoes?” he said, as nonchalantly as possible. 

She looked blankly at him. “Shoes?”

“Shoes,” said Wurtchel, and pointed down at his own feet. He had on a pair of the shoemaker’s shoes, with nice brass buckles. He hated wearing his own creations. “You know, to - to protect your feet ... ?”

“Oh!” she said, and crouched down to study his feet, and shot up again, bright-eyed. “I’ve never worn anything like that before!” she said earnestly. “She never let me out, and the tower was always carpeted.”

“It - it’s my talent!” said Wurtchel, stumbling over his own words in his excitement. “I make shoes! I could - I could make you some right now! Would you like a pair?”

“That would be wonderful!” she said, with a gratitude Wurtchel had not known he could inspire. “Something to protect my feet from the briars and the stones - Why, thank you, thank you so much!”

“Right,” said Wurtchel, and cracked his fingers, and curled up his toes inside of his shoes. His face was flushed due to her worshipful gaze upon him, and he could feel his heart beating in his chest. Easy. Easy. Just do what he did every night. He could feel his blood burning in his ears. His eyes kept creeping back down to her feet unintentionally, and he had to shake himself off, trying to picture the shoes in his head instead. Good as gold, the shoes. Better than gold! A terrible tremble ran through his fingertips, and as he curled up his toes he could feel them drenched in sweat. Just do it! Do it! Good as gold! Gold! Now! Do it now!

He splayed out his fingers, and there was the smell of musty leather, and absolutely nothing else happened.

The maiden stood there, watching, one eye flicking up occasionally to glance at Wurtchel’s face. “Is ... um, is something supposed to be happening?” she said at last.

Wurtchel was mortified. All the blood from his face seemed to have sunk down into his chest, his stomach, and now sat there cold and heavy while he continued to hold his fingers outstretched like a moron. “It’s, erm - I don’t - It- it should be happening,” he mumbled. “If you’ll - if you’ll just give me a minute -”

“It - it’s all right if you can’t,” she said delicately, backing off with such a look of compassion in her eyes that Wurtchel felt his face flame up again. “I mean, I’m sure I’ll get used to it, walking on the ground.” She looked down at her dress. “I could make some shoes myself, maybe, if I tore off some cloth and ...”

“No! No no no!” Wurtchel swallowed down a rock in his throat. “Just - That won’t do any good, ripping up your dress like that! Cloth, you can’t make shoes out of that! Terrible, ha-ha!” A quaver ran up and down his voice as he tried to force a smile. “Just give me a - This is all I’m really good for, ha-ha! You just stay right there! I’ll have you your shoes, quick as a wink!”

Again he thrust out his hands, all the tendons in his wrists taut. Shoes. A pair of shoes. This was it. This was his purpose. They’d be the finest leather. The finest shoes he’d ever made, just this once, and why not? He imagined poulaine toes uncurling, full foot long, lovely satin insides to caress her tender feet, protect her from all the awful pointy edges of the world, salve her wounds. Just this once! He was all tensed up, vibrating, trembling with the effort, sweat dripping down his face. Shoes to walk her all the way to love, to safety! He was almost weeping now, so filled with an eager benevolence towards her. Just this once, to justify all else!

There was a loud gusting noise, and then a half-frayed shoelace materialized between his hands and fell limply to the dirt.

Wurtchel strangled a gasp, let his arms drop, limp. There was nothing else left in him. “I can -” he started to stammer. “I can try again -”

The maiden was already averting her eyes, looking up at the path of the sun across the sky instead. “Look, it’s all right,” she said, glancing back down. “You tried. I  - It’s fine, really, I didn’t have shoes before this, so no great loss, right?” She tried to smile. “But I really have to get going if I’m going to make it to Holtzheim before nightfall, so, uh ...” She was already beginning to limp away. “Thanks for trying to help -”

“Wait!” cried Wurtchel, and in a desperate impulse flung himself to the ground and wrestled off his own shoes, thrusting them into her arms. “Here! Take them!”

“Oh,” she said, and looked down at the shoes in her hands, and looked back at him. “You’re sure?”

Wurtchel nodded.

She found a fallen tree and sat down for a minute, brushing most of the debris off her feet and fiddling with the shoes until she got them on. She stood up again and walked, tramping around on the dirt, satisfied with the feel of them. She looked back at Wurtchel, who was still sitting on the ground.

“Thank you,” she said, and bent down to put her arms around him briefly, her hair brushing against his cheek. And then she was up and running again, more confidently now as she crashed heedlessly through the brush, making a terrible noise until she was out of range of hearing.

Wurtchel sat there on the dirt, barefoot, looking at his own pale feet, the veins standing out on them. He held out his arms - they felt wooden from the exertion - and almost experimentally flexed his fingers, clenched, waiting to see what would happen.

A pair of crude leather shoes popped into being.

“Now you work,” Wurtchel grumbled to himself.

The shoes were terrible. They didn’t fit right, and pinched in all the wrong places, and the leather was stiff, but he could walk well enough in them. He took a couple of hobbling steps at first and then relaxed into a normal gait, bearing the discomfort.

He sniffed, wiped off his nose, rolled his tensed shoulders. He should feel triumphant, he told himself, if only by the property of transmutation. She had a new pair of shoes, and he had made a new pair of shoes, and so even though the creation and the receiving hadn’t lined up perfectly, it was like he had magically bestowed upon her a boon anyway.

But he didn’t feel triumphant, or in any way vindicated. The end result of his magic powers was that he hadn’t had to walk the rest of the way home barefoot. Which would have been an inconvenience, to be sure, but hardly anything that he wouldn’t have put up with gladly.

He trod on, kicking pebbles along the path, and as he walked pass the trees the thought came into view: If that was the case, then his magical powers had been completely irrelevant. All he’d needed to do was to be in that place, at that time, wearing a pair of shoes, and everything would have worked out for her. Everything else was a matter of his own convenience.

Wurtchel kept walking, thoughts tumbling loosely through his head, weary, but with the sort of comfortable weariness which comes with knowing that you’re going back home. The shoemaker’s shop came into view over the hill, and he realized that his shoes weren’t pinching nearly so badly anymore, felt like they halfway fit. He was breaking them in, he thought. Maybe he’d be able to wear this pair just fine.

[cruelzy]

I’m actually nervous about sending in a request cause I love your writing so much and honestly don’t feel worthy to make a request of you. However, I would like to request a Legolas Drabble/fic/whatever you call it based on the prompt that’s like “five times he almost kissed her and the one time he did” I really love your writing and I wasn’t aware requests were open until just now.

notes: i did three and one love cuz ain’t no one got time for that

i. 

Legolas hesitantly concludes that his best decisions are made without much thought.

Not to say he is rash. On the contrary—though his every inhale could do with less contemplation beforehand—he considers himself rather circumspect. (As modestly as one could ever self evaluate anyway.) 

There tends to, nevertheless, be a lack of time to muse in the thick of battle. He can count on one hand any gargantuan choices he’d had to make outside of a particularly tense situation. 

Point: world changing verdicts were normally decided on direct instinct, rather than any gradual, logical philosophy. 

Reality: he has had all the time in Middle Earth and more to think about why he should not be with you.

Cannot, he corrects himself. Nay should not. Cannot. 

Greed. Coil. Collapse.

Will not.

Your own indecision is louder in the silence. 

It’s never truly silent for him, not really, but onset of moonless night has coaxed the land into a reluctant still. His awareness fractures, branches out among the slow shifting plains beneath his feet to the anxious fidget of your dry fingers, the deep seated craving of the forest, the heat of the sleeping company bolstering against his back, bare and familiar and grounding. He keeps watch, the storm in his ears approaching steadfast in the east—torrents to be upon them by noon the latest of morrow, so he plans; he listens to the far flung sea, ever present in her rhythmic whispers, he tracks the mechanical open shut of your mouth in hushed breath as you slowly but surely build your confidence—"Legolas?“

Thunder unfolds itself from the sky. 

Your head snaps to the heavens. Blinking against the night, clumsy in that distinct way of man in dark, “you had something you wished to tell me?”

“No.” Legolas says. “Nothing.”

ii. 

Time marches on.

They rise. They move. They fight. They sleep. They rise. 

The good and the bad scatters into the wind, lingers in their eyes and their jokes and their bones at the fire. They keep moving. Solidarity is a drive half-cool, offering much needed relief against the merciless sun every moment between. 

“Say, do your hands serve the same purpose as your feet?” A voice rises into morning dew. “If you drop on all fours, you may be able to advance faster than that!“ 

“Ha!” You scowl in response, posturing an air of exaggerated disdain and failing terribly. Your lips quiver up at the corners. “I could run to the sun and back and you would still be doing up your boots!“ 

The brown eyed dwarf you speak to turns swiftly on his heels, holding Legolas in his sights. He grins wide, the physical embodiment of mischief. "What say you, elf? Who is swifter?”

“Foul play! I have seen the food you offer him after hunt!”

“Give the truth as you see fit, great war-bow warrior, keen-eye of Mirkwood—”

“Bribery!”

The rest of the circle keeps quiet in amused exasperation, wholly familiar with  your antics. 

“Perchance he should race with us to properly judge. If he loses, the punishment shall be a pleasure of mine to ruffle at least two, no, three hairs loose from his perfect mane!” There’s a teasing incredulity in his purr. “Unimaginable!" 

Legolas smiles. "I do not think you could reach.”

You throw your head back and laugh heartily as the BlackLock squawks in outrage. Legolas watches your face glow. The joyful sound unfurls him from the inside out like wood flowers in springtime. 

Longing surges fast. Sudden.

It would be so easy. 

The thought loiters for only a second, but it is a second far too many. His reaction is all but physical: restraint forcefully barreling into him like a tidal wave. Ire immediately follows. Always, always this with you. Eats him alive. Haunts. Marvel at the vast expanse of his own incompetence, tossed about like a raft in the surf, lost to emotion’s every beck and call as though he were a boy. And if there is anything Legolas is not, it is a boy. 

Outwardly, his ears twitch once. 

The sea laughs and laughs.

iii.

(SII’ !)

Peace shattered by a cacophony of yells. 

He should have known—the forest had been teething in unrest all morning, but he was, of course, unusually distracted. 

And where there is one warg, there are bound to be more. Packs never stray far. Honestly, he would have been more concerned if there was a solo beast; lone, exiled wolves always tend to be more unpredictable, and consequently more dangerous. 

His own pack has tightened, too well polished to break formation. Legolas assesses the situation in a brisk glance before raising a fist level to his sternum, parallel to the ground. The company obediently scatters. Divide. Lure. Incapacitate. 

Earlier hypothesis confirmed, he thinks, absentminded. He did not hesitate for that course of action, now did he?

Legolas frowns. A harrowing blur of teeth and claws draws him back to reality, three answering growls sounding from behind. He presses his lips together. He is in no mood for this. 

In the end it is less a skirmish and more an execution. 

Today, the concept of mercy may as well be as far from him as the Halls of Mandos. He yanks his arrows back from the bodies, apathetically maneuvering around the excessive bloodshed. None of his companions have disappeared from the corners of his visión; in fact, most are beginning to take rest as the struggle winds down. Hard resistance to his movements makes him pause.

The last shaft is unrecognizable amongst the shredded cartilage and sinew. 

Legolas blinks owlishly. 

“Report." 

"All accounted for,” there’s your voice, effortlessly branded to his skull, “don’t worry about the blood.”

He tips his head. Legolas has both been around long enough, and been around you long enough, to recognize nuance when he hears it. The timbre of your tone is too innocent. “Is that s–”

You enter line of visión, and whatever amusement there was fizzles entirely out of existence. 

You’re a bath of carnage from head to toe.

He straightens, bewildered. 

“Don’t worry about the blood,” you repeat. Upon your smile is victory, but he can hardly register such a thing, already crossing the distance in three long strides.

Sturdy. Sturdy in front him. Strong as a bough; chest high, shoulders back, hands slick with sweat and grime. Still vulnerable. The stench of moldy earth fills his nose. “Report." 

You wipe your blade on the grass, eyeing the hand on your arm strangely. Quiet, then whoosh, air punching through your nose in an obvious joking redirection—"Puppy just got too close for comfort. I live.”

Once he has visibly confirmed what you say to be true, the relief is dizzyingly tangible. It feels as though his mind is shooting out sparks. 

Will not. 

Desire alone he could handle, but this is something else, something more tender. And what of it? A living disease.

“Plague,” he hisses.

Now that the threat of your demise has cut short, he cannot ignore the heightened adrenaline running rampant in his veins, yet to temper from the sudden battle. 

Fingers clamp tighter into flesh, as though you would vanish into thin air the moment he took hands off you.

For all your confidence, your palms are shaking. This, however, does nothing to the vicious triumph etched into your visage. 

Something slowly jostles awake within him. 

There’s a sense of pride, yes, but what raises heavy head under his bones is far more ancient, more volatile. He touches your cheek, watches the up down heave of your chest quicken. Liquid crimson marks exposed skin, slides wet between his knuckles. Your brow is slick with sweat. The trees grow louder and louder in their whispering, crisp leaves crunching underfoot where he inches closer. Every detail on your face has sharpened to a point, and Legolas knows his eyes have blown wide and luminescent.

When he says your name, he can barely recognize his own voice. 

“There is a stream up ahead!”

Reminder of an audience makes him all but growl. The fingers on your cheek drop, lightly brushing up and under the curve of your jaw on their way out. He does not imagine the violent shudder that runs through you.

Legolas endures. 

“Alive, indeed,” he quips, gaze smoldering. “Be more careful.”

———

You are going to murder an elf.

You’re going to rip out his entrails and wear them as a badge of honour. You’re going to wrap up the remains and send them to Thranduil himself. You’re going to tug him down to your level and you’re going to, you’re going to kiss the ever living daylights out of hi—

No!

You grind your teeth together, stalking down the hallway threateningly. Passersby steer nervously out of your way. 

When you finally find him, he is alone in the kitchens. “Ah!” Your exclamation is purposefully loud, as you vehemently wish he would jump and smash his perfect head into the pans from surprise. Of course, no such thing happens. He probably heard you coming. This only incenses you further. “There you are you intrepid, lousy, good for nothing—”

“I did not know,” Legolas drawls, “that it was a crime to prepare oneself a drink.”

“Hilarious. You’re hilarious. No really, if you ever tire of being a prince, a jester is right next in line.”

Hot and cold and hot and cold for months on end with the pointy-eared bastard. He’s put the icing on top by avoiding you, when he well knows that with the journey commenced, you are leaving Mirkwood soon.

“There are rumors you have been searching for someone. Were you successful?”

There have been absolutely no such thing—

“Oh? I haven’t heard.” The last dregs of patience spill out of you like a runny egg. “Whose mouths spout such gossip? Ghosts? Are there spirits in these halls?" 

"Perhaps.”

“Alright.” You are very very done with this conversation. “Here it is. I am going to talk, and you are going to listen.”

His eyebrows raise, bemused. Legolas spreads his upturned palms placidly as if to say go ahead, then turns back around, the frame of his body blocking whatever his hands are occupied with from eyesight.

You squint.

“What are you doing?”

“Making tea,” he says. He catches your gaze, and without any semblance of warning, you are struck, once again, by his beauty. 

You swallow. 

One would think the novelty would eventually fade and disappear, but not so. It is a fact of his existence: just as the colour of his hair, or the sound of his voice. Noticing is simply seeing. Unavoidable. Legolas is impossibly beautiful, and you are trapped reliving it again and again. 

He calmly slips a spoon into his mouth.

“Care to taste?”

Before your own cowardice can psyche you out of it, you dart forward, tugging the utensil from his lips to thoughtfully place between yours.

A beat.

Legolas tilts his head like some lazy jungle cat, eyes impassive. 

As if on cue, explosions of colour practically bang behind your teeth: pungent woodsmoke and spice and evergreen, acrid, fine sugared juniper flooding thick down your throat. If the very heart of the earth had a taste, it was this.

You choke.

“That,” says Legolas, “was alcohol.”

“Pardon?" 

You gag around the weapon in your mouth, pulling it out faster than the speed of light in genuine panic. If Legolas was capable of downing an entire bar of alcohol without feeling a thing, what would one drop of elvhen alcohol do to you?!

The face you were making must have been hysterical, because Legolas laughs breezily, sweeping up the mug in one smooth motion and taking a long, deliberate sip. 

"I was joking,” he finally says. “It is tea." 

"Truly?” You clarify. “No repercussion?”

“Well, you may feel unnaturally clear-headed.”

Forget sending remains to Thranduil. You are going to hang them above your front door. 

A sarcastic response nearly flies off of your tongue but dies of clipped wings half way out. You frown. With a start, you realize he’s steered you away from your original topic with frighteningly choreographed ease. 

Unease makes you fall quiet, apprehensive.

“You’re dangerous,” you say. 

“Yes.” He smiles, deliciously slow. “Does that scare you?”

You think even a whisper would drain whatever breath you have left, so you don’t answer. All the air has fled your lungs.

“A score and two moons ago,” Legolas continues evenly, as if you had not become a living statue, “you and I stood outside my father’s throne room. Do you remember? You peered out at the turning of the leaves, those great trunks in their shadow, and wondered how glad I was at heart. You said you would be old and grey by the time my father decided we were worth his presence.” His eyes crinkle at the corners again, sadly. “I know why you are here, valarhîw. It cannot happen." 

You imagine how you must appear to him. The march of time on your features, mortality burning out quick and bright in every tuck and crease of skin, leaking out of each pore, impermeable in your predestined fate. Brevity of such a high-tensioned existence: chase of second to second, the constant companion that is anticipation, desperation, anticipation, you imagine, is inconceivable to a being thousands of years old. Your entire life is simply one of his weeks. 

And yet, something traitorous whispers in your ear. He is still here. 

"You know what I think?” You croak.

Legolas does not respond.

“I think you are trying to scare me off. I think you are more terrified of the alternative.”

“Trust me, child,” he sounds seemingly the same, but his gaze is molten. “Heartbreak is no simple matter.”

The inevitable tragedy of your story. You logically hear what he is saying, but your heart has stopped listening ages ago. The concealed pain on his face squeezes a hand round your ribs and pulls. 

Desire alone you could handle, but this is something else. Something more tender. 

And what of it?

“We will cross that bridge when we get there.”

“Please,” he breathes, struggling against the typhoon that is your humanity, the whirlwind of here and now buried in your species’ gravity, your rage against the dying of the light—tiny little blips in a grand world ruthlessly determined on stamping their footprint on eternity. It completely contrasts his very identity. His mask cracks, soft and unguarded. “You do not know what you ask for. Please." 

"Or maybe,” you sneer. “You are not able to give.”

The words hang in the air. Staggering.

Legolas slams you into the counter. You see a flash of teeth, quick as lightning, before his mouth is on yours. 

The first thing you think is that you were way in over your head. 

Then you’re not thinking anything really because all else instantly ceases to matter.

His kiss is white-hot and overwhelming, drawing a hopeless whimper up your throat like water from a well. You throw your arms up and around his neck until utterly no space exists between your bodies. Or, trying, failing, hands dropping to frantically press and wander about his chest because why is he so tall, your mind going void again as he crowds closer, thighs pressing to thighs and large hands searing above your waist, behind your head. The mug shatters at your feet. Punishing bites are soothed by slow, firm strokes of his tongue, leaving you to gasp and shake against the hard planes of him. He is relentless, steady and insistent against your urgent quickness. Legolas kisses you and kisses you until you think that maybe that talk of mortality was for nothing, no, you are going to die of pleasure right here and right now, at the mercy of your tormentor.

“If—” you tear away just enough to cup his face in your sweaty palms, fighting for air, “if we do this, it is all the way. You do not, you do not take the parts of me you want, you—wait—you accept all of me—”

“Ed’ i’ ear ar’ elenea, Melamin!” He laughs, clear and bright. “For once, shh!”

Your reply is lost to the wind. 

Or his mouth.

(It was definitely his mouth.)

[staticscreenwriting]

12 Days of Christmas - [Day 2]

A/N: Day number 2 for the Christmas coundown with @mattysheelies​. Sorry for being a bit late with uploading but I just got home an hour ago and I had to edit this a little. But here it is. Enjoy.

Prompt:  “ Ah yes, the age-old tradition of an obese old man dressed in a red suit - breaking into your house.”

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

I remember meeting Steve Harrington on a cold december morning in 1985. I remember this not because I immediately fell in love with him (though he was undeniably charming and handsome), but for the simple fact that never before had I seen someone look so utterly miserable. I remember this because it was both our first day at our new job. I loved this job, Steve — not so much. 

When you’re a kid, people always tell you to find something you’re good at, something that brings you joy, and to make a living out of it. Only, if the one thing you’re good at, is spreading Christmas cheer as one of Santa’s elves at the local mall, things suddenly look very different. Suddenly they tell you to get a “real job” and life just gets confusing all over.

I enjoyed spending time with the kids, spreading Christmas cheer and trying to keep that sense of childlike wonder in my own heart for as long as I possibly could. Also, and I hate to brag, but I looked pretty good in my elf uniform. Steve pretty much just suffered his way through the day, giving the bare minimum and earning himself unamused glares from exhausted parents.

The first proper conversation we had, was on december 12th. I remember it so clearly because, hey the Steve Harrington was having a conversation with little old me. It was another frosty day though there was still no sign of snow. Steve had wanted to escape Santa’s village for just a few minutes during lunch break and since the roof of the mall was the only place that didn’t blast christmas music, he had decided to wander up here. Which let him straight to me, that weird girl, spending her lunch break leant against the railing, looking up at the sky and wishing for snow.

“ Oh uh — sorry. I didn’t mean to — “ 

“ No it’s fine don’t worry. I’m just waiting for the snow. “ 

“ Snow, huh ? White Christmas ? “ 

“ Yup. It’s what I wish for every year. Like in the movies. Always wanted to wear one of those big red ballgowns and watch the snow fall. “ 

“ You really care about all that Christmas stuff, huh ? “ 

“ Christmas stuff ? “ 

“ Mmh Elves and Santa and all that stuff. I always notice you humming along to the songs and don’t think I don’t see you rearrange the ornaments on the trees, literally every single morning. “ 

“ Do you watch me ? “ 

“ I — no! “ 

But he was blushing then, as he denied it. I kept that secret to myself, the fact that I knew he was lying. Because I knew and that was all that mattered. And I was flattered. I’m sure my cheeks were just as red as his. 

“ I just like Christmas and all that comes with it. It brings people wonderful memories, makes them feel happy. If I can play a little part in that by helping kids believe in the magic of these traditions then that’s all that matters. “ 

“ Ah yes, the age-old tradition of an obese old man dressed in a red suit - breaking into your house.” 

“ Oh aren’t you a regular Ebenezer Scrooge “ 

“ I’m not, I just don’t think Christmas is all that. It’s not like the movies anyway …. “ 

“ So what’s Christmas like in the Harrington household then ? “ 

I expected him to boast then, about gifts aplenty and the big festive meal and all that shebang we normal people didn’t get to enjoy in just quite that extend.

To my surprise, he didn’t brag about his perfect Christmas, he looked — sad. 

“ Mom cooks up a storm. Dad says it’s dry which makes mom sad. Dad gives her an expensive gift, like a necklace or earrings, to easy his guilty conscience for one thing or another. Then they give me something expensive too and take that as their free pass to voice everything about me that bothers them. So really, Christmas at the Harrington Household is one huge shit show of play pretend. “ 

It occurred to me then, for the first time in maybe ever, that Steve Harrington, with his perfect hair and his gorgeous smile, wasn’t immune to the emotional trauma so many of our parents were putting on us. Steve Harrington’s world shifted just a little close to my own then, and suddenly I could understand the gloomy mood and the frown. 

“ Yeah well, my dad left us on Christmas eve a few years ago so now every year my mom locked herself in her room and cries and I watch it’s a wonderful life on tv and eat my bodyweight in chocolate. That’s not like the movies either. It’s why I do this job, to maybe help other people make happy memories. “ 

It went silent for a moment, just us caught in the heavy realisation that though we were as different as could be, maybe the things that mattered, the gnarly emotional stuff inside, were things we shared. 

“ Look at us. Spilling our hearts to each other, looking like elves. That’s gotta be some sight to see. “ 

“ Well, just for the record, I think you make a pretty handsome elf. “ 

“ You think ? “ 

I made Steve Harrington blush two times that day. 

“ Suits you too. The pointy shoes and the hat and all that. “ 

And in that moment, I felt something in my change. Maybe Steve the hair Harrington was more than a pretty rich boy. And maybe that “more” was something I could see myself falling for.

Christmas eve came faster than I would’ve liked and though it was freezing cold, snow was nowhere to be seen. The mall closed Santa’s workshop early to “give Stanta time to deliver all the presents” when in reality Jeff who played Santa had demanded they close it early because he had a flight to Cabo waiting for him that he couldn’t miss for anything.

I knew that I had to go home at some point even if all that was waiting for me was an emotionally unstable mother and the reminder that I wasn’t even good enough for my own dad. 

Happy families were passing by me as I sat by the fountain in the middle of the mall, all wearing big smiles in excitement for the holidays to come. 

A part of me would always be bitter about the fact that this wasn’t me and that my dad had effectively taken this from me. 

“ So, I know tonight is Christmas eve and while I am miserable you relish in this season and probably have other things to do, but would you grant me a little bit of your time and let me take you somewhere ? “ 

Steve’s voice was soft and gentle as he stepped in front of me and held out his hand. I hadn’t even know he was still around, had assumed he had bolted the moment they let us off. 

“ You want to take me somewhere ? “ I asked, slightly confused and desperately trying to conceal the blush undoubtedly spreading on my cheeks.

“ Yeah, if you want to ? “ 

As if there was ever a chance I would say no to that. So I nodded.

Steve took my hand in his and I prayed to god mine wasn’t clammy or cold. Because on the list of people I ever held hands with, holding hands with Steve was definitely on the very top.

We rushed through the mall, through the crowds of last minute shoppers and past the exhausted employees desperate to go home to their families. We only stopped once we stood in front of the big iron door leading out towards the rooftop. 

Steve let go of my hand then and for a second I felt like something was missing, like his hand fit with mine so well I felt naked without it. 

“ Okay, look. I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day. The thing about helping people make happy memories of Christmas even if we don’t have happy ones ourselves. Soooo … I thought it was time to create some for us. “ 

“ You wha — Holy shit! “ 

The door srung open and the view that revealed itself to me, left me breathless. There were fairy lights all over, strung from left to right and back again. A small fake christmas tree stood in the middle of the roof, decked out in baubles and ornaments. Bing Crosby’s voice echoed from a stereo, singing about a White Christmas. 

It was like Christmas threw up onto this roof. I absolutely loved it. 

“ Steve this is — gorgeous. “ 

“ Wait it’s not all. “ 

“ It’s not ? “ 

He rushed towards a big duffel bag placed in the corner and fumbled around in it for a moment before pulling out what I can only explain as a huge pile of red fabric.

“ What is that ? “ I said, stepping onto the brightly lit roof.

“ Your dress. “ 

“ My dress ? “ 

“ Your red dress. Well actually it’s a read coat, I couldn’t find a dress. I hope this works. Symbolism and all that, huh ?“ 

For the second time that day, may heart started beating faster and my breath seemed to fail me. He remembered my fleeting mention of the dress. The red “white Christmas” dress.

“ It’s perfect. Steve, this is too much.“ 

“ It’s not too much. You spend every day this month, helping other people make happy memories. You deserve this. “

I didn’t know what to say then, there aren’t really words that would’ve been enough to properly express how I was feeling then. Grateful. Excited. Half in love.

I didn’t say anything to him then, just hugged him. And it seemed to me then, as he returned the hug tightly and warmly, that maybe Steve Harrington didn’t get hugged half as much as he should have.

“ Thank you. “ I whispered. He didn’t answer, just hugged me tighter. That was all the answer I needed.

The coat was warm and cozy and felt like a blanket or pure warmth around me. 

As I slipped into it, Steve looked at me in that special way every girl wants to be looked at. Like I was the best thing he had ever seen in his life. Like the world had stopped spinning for a second. And maybe this wouldn’t end up as some epic romance story but it meant the world in that one moment and that, I would cherish forever.

“ You look gorgeous, (Y/N). “ 

He was right. I did. 

“ So, I’m a horrible cook which is why our dinner tonight consists of hot dogs on a stick, orange chicken from the chinese place downstairs and as a dessert — “ he said then motioned to the various styrofoam containers before him “ mcdonald's apple pies. “ 

“ Truly a festive meal. “ 

“ Very much so. Would you care to join me for this dinner ? “ 

“ It would be a pleasure, good sir. “ 

And so we sat down on pillows that we placed on the floor, Steve wrapped a blanket around us, and we started stuffing our faces in greasy fast food. Various christmas songs serenaded us as the night slowly crept up and took away the sun completely. 

“ This is the happiest Christmas memory I’ve made in — a long time. “ I confessed to Steve. Steve Harrington who, just a few weeks ago, was but a thought in my mind of something that will never be. 

And now here he was. next to me,cuddled up in a blanket. Making memories together.

“ I’m glad I get to be a part of it. Your dad really sucks for leaving you. But it’s his loss really. I think you should know that. “

“ Thanks. Well I think your parents should be proud of you. You’re — pretty great, Steve. “ 

“ Hey uh — “ he said and bit his bottom lip anxiously “ you ever been kissed under a mistletoe ? “ 

“ I’ve never even seen a mistletoe in real life, I think. “ 

“ Oh that’s good cause the mistletoe was sold out at the store and the next best thing I could get was a laurel branch. Let’s just pretend. That’s — if you want to. “ 

“ It’s tradition, huh ? “ 

“ Yup. “ 

“ Can’t very much break such a lovely tradition. “ 

And as he held the laurel, excuse me mistletoe, branch above our heads, and his lips met mine in a kiss so soft and warm, the first snow of the season started softly falling around us.

“ You’re getting a white Christmas. “ I could feel Steve murmur against my lips. 

Oh I got so much more that night.

It is funny to think back to that year and remember the words he said about stupid traditions and the old man climbing into our houses. Because, as he tugs in our daughter and reads to her and tells her to go to sleep so Santa can come and eat the cookies they baked together and drink the milk they set out, it’s almost like he is more excited than our little girl herself. 

I no longer wish for snow. All I’m wishing for is to be able to spend my Christmas with the people I love most. My little girl and Steve, the elf, Harrington. 

_____

Taglist: Will add later, I’m too tired rn. 

[saelwen]

The Last Dragon

Daenys Targaryen x Glorfindel

Crossover: Game of Thrones and LOTR/Hobbit

Chapter23

Masterlist

Summary: After Daenery’s death, her daughter Daenys, flew away with Drogon. Feeling lost without her mother beside her, but what will happen when Daenys find a portal that will lead her to a certain world, where dwell elves, dwarves, humans and other races

Warnings a bit of angst, fluff

Words 2k

It has been seven months since we have arrived in middle-earth some time ago. I must say that I was really a surprise by how calm everyone was when we disembarked from the ships, with all the Valar and the reborn elves standing there behind me.

A small smile forms on my lips as I remember the reunion between Lady Galadriel and her father and brothers. The tears of Lord Elrond when he sees his beloved wife and their children running to her, hugging her tightly. But what made me more pleased was seeing Thranduil embracing his one true love again, noticing how his ice-cold eyes changed to a warm joyful color, shining with tears. At least everyone is happy.

The Valar have created a huge castle, more like a base, for all the elves from Valinor. I and Glorfindel have stayed there since our closest friends are there.

Rubbing my gigantic belly, a groan escapes from my lips as I feel the babies starting again kicking “Gods! I swear that they have your strength, melleth nin!” Glorfindel looks to me with a smile, he walks to me and kneels down, putting his large hands on my belly “Mui hîn(my children) You must let your nana rest...she will need all her strength to bring you to the world.” he said softly, giving a kiss there. I don’t know if it was a coincidence but they have stopped moving, I let out a sigh and cup his cheek softly “Thank you, melleth nin...They have been doing that all night.” he nods and kisses my lips softly.

There’s a knock on our chamber's door, making us pull apart “Come in!” Glorfindel said a while putting his sword on his strong waist. The door open and Ecthelion came in “Ready, Glorfindel?” he asked, a while bowing to me. Today, Glorfindel and the rest of the older elves were going to train men and dwarfs to fight, with the help of Orormë and Tulkas.

I walk to my husband and giving him one last kiss “Do you got everything?” I asked a while checking that was everything, he needed in his bag. He chuckles and nods “Yes, my love. Don’t worry, by the end of the week I will be here again.” I nod and walk with him to the door “Be safe, okay?” my voice was full of concern, he smiles gently to me “I will...don’t worry, my dragon Queen.” with that he and Ecthelion turn back and walk away.

A sigh escapes from me as I turn back to our room, seeing it empty without him here. This will be a long week...

Walking to my wardrobe, I undress my nightgown and put on a simple red gown, that made my belly less huge. I leave my silver hair down and put my dragon necklace around my neck.

Happy with my look, I turn back and walk out of my chambers, to go and find Aredhel and Maglor since they yet have to know that they will fly with me and Glorfindel in the battle.

                                                        ~~~~~~

I've been looking everywhere for them, I finally notice a servant walking towards me “Excuse me. Do you know where Lady Aredhel and Lord Maglor are?” the young elleth looks to me with wide eyes and bows quickly her head “Yes, My Lady!... Lady Aredhel is the training fields and Lord Maglor is in the gardens.” she said weakly, I look to her in confusion by her evident fear.

I noticed her small body shaking a while she grabs the towels in her arms tightly and pieces of her dirty blond hair falling down from her messy bun, there were dark bags under her green eyes. I tilt my head to the side, I know her from somewhere...

Then it came to my head, she was the elleth that I caught Thranduil with it. “Aren’t you from Mirkwood? Why are you so far away from home?” I asked but already knowing the reason. I notice some tears falling down her soft cheeks, she was biting her lower lips so hard that broke the skin there, drawing blood “The King Thranduil didn’t need my services anymore...and banish me from his Kingdom...” my eyes widened with her last words. Why would he do that? I know that he has his Queen back but he shouldn’t banish his people of the Kingdom!

I put my hand on her skinny arm and stroke it gently “Why did he banish you?” I asked her softly. She let out a loud sob and falls on her knees “H..He..He didn’t want a bastard daughter...he forces me to shut my mouth and leave the Kingdom...alone and heavily pregnant...i loved him so much.” she said, crying in my shoulder. I wrap my arms around her fragile body and whisper gentle things, trying to calm her down. How could he do that?! That stupid irresponsible elf! He’s lucky that I'm pregnant because I would pay him a little visit with my dragons right now!

“And where is your daughter?” I asked her, seeing that she had calmed down a bit. “She’s in the barn...me and her sleep there. This place is full of important elves, so there aren’t many rooms left for the servants.” I nod and help her up, she cleans her tears from her green eyes and picks the towels from the floor “Well...ah... I must go clean the soldier's bathroom...excuse me.” as she was about to pass by me, I grab her arm softly, making her look to me “You don’t need to do that!” I said firmly. She looks to me confused “What do you mean, My Lady?” I smile gently to her “From this day on, you will be my lady-in-waiting! I will order to prepare two rooms beside mine, one for you and another for your daughter.” her eyes widened, tears were again running down freely.

She kneels down and thank me constantly, I pull her up “No need for that! Now, what’s your name?” she puts a piece of her hair behind her pointy ear “My name is Istril, My Lady!” I nod and smile “Well, Istril...How about you take me to your daughter so I could meet her.” Istril nods and leads me to the barn, where her daughter was.

When we arrived at the barn, Istril open the door and a small figure jumps to her arms “Nana! Your early this time!” a tiny cheerful voice said to Istril. I look over her shoulder and saw little blond elfling with a dirty doll in her arms “Hello there little one!” I said to her with a big smile. The little girl looks to me with her big ice blue eyes, she as his eyes.

“You are the dragon lady!” she said in awe, a chuckle left from my lips as I see Istril gasp “Tunniel! Don’t be rude!” I wave her off “Don’t worry...So Tunniel, do you like dragons?” she nods furiously, her ice-blue eyes shining in excitement “YES!” she jumps a little. I giggle and offer my hand “Well, would you like to see them?” Tunniel looks to her nana, to see if she could go see them.

Istril nods and Tunniel grabs my hand tightly “Yeah! Let’s go see the dragons!” she said in excitement.

                                                      ~~~~~~

After go fetch Aredhel and Maglor, we were now with the dragons. I presented Tunniel and Istril to them, Tunniel was having a blast playing with Daenerion and Arcturion. Her squeals and cries were all we could hear, Istril was smiling a while looking at her daughter “I’ve never seen her this happy.” she whispers to me “And she will continue happily...don’t worry.” I said to her, smiling gently.

I look back to Aredhel and Maglor and wave them to come to me “I’ve got something to ask you two.” they look to each other and nod “I wanted to ask you to fly with me and Glorfindel in the battle... I will need all my dragons with a rider so it will be easier to kill the white walkers.” Aredhel gasp and Maglor goes pale, I turn back to them “I gave Viseral to my husband...Daenerion and Arcturion are for my children but in this battle, they will be yours.” they nod and Aredhel took a step forward “We will fight hard...but I think you should give us a flying lesson.” I giggle and nod “Yes when I’m free from those two, I will teach you.” I said a while pointing to my huge belly.

We spend the rest of the day with the dragons, feeling the warm sun on our skin and watching the gorgeous blue sky before us.

(Sauron P.O.V)

I sat in silence on my throne, reading the letter from King Manwë. So, they have set free my master and reborne the elves. What in all Arda is going on?! This must be an ambush to catch me!

Burning the letter in my hand, I put my hand under my chin, thinking about the things that King Manwë told in the letter. A new enemy? That brings with him a long night? Well, that doesn’t seem so bad.

Suddenly the sound of an explosion interrupted my thoughts, I shot up from my throne “GUARDS!” I yell for them but no one answers me. What’s going on? I walk to the doors and open them, I look around and saw no one around in the cold black halls. Confused, I walk to the balcony, where I could watch everything outside. A gasp escape from me as I saw my lands being attacked by a dark fog, it almost looks like a wave of...undead? Everything was destroyed. Mordor was gone! All the orcs were dead and my captains were turned into those things.

I turn around when I heard a sound of feet walking towards me.

Standing before me were two men, one took a step forward, he was white as the snow, with hints of blue here and there. He had three eyes, two were glowing blue and the third was all black. He was wearing black armor and on the top of his head was ice crown. The other man had black hair and was also wearing black armor, there was a small scar on his left blue eye. “Who are you?” I asked a while summon my mace.

The one with the crown smiled “You could be a good asset...Work for me and I will reward you well.” his voice was emotionless. A growl escapes from me “I’ve already got a master and I'm loyal to him!” I jump to him, hitting him with my mace but it didn’t do anything.

A smirk grew on his cold lips and suddenly I feel an ice blade stab me on the back, turning slowly my head, I saw the black-haired man behind me, his sword firmly inside me. I feel my blood rising in my mouth, making me have a fit of cough. My surroundings began spinning and become blurry “You should have accepted my offer.” he said, grabbing tightly my hair.

Suddenly a gust of wind enters the throne room, I move my gaze to the door and saw two figures standing there, one pure white and other onyx black “Well, well, well...So this is the ice demon that she was talking about!” That voice...Morgoth! “Focus Melkor!” The white figure said, who was Manwë.

They lift their hands, that was glowing white and black, and throw a energy ball to the ice demon, making him flew back, hitting his back on the wall. Then Morgoth twists his hand, making the walls swallow the bastard, Manwë runs to me and pick me up “Let's get out of here. That only holds him up for a while!” Morgoth yelled to us. I was losing my consciousness but the last thing I saw was the ice demon setting free from the wall and smirking to us “Don’t worry! I will come to you in no time!” He yelled at us.

Hey Guys!! Here the new chapter. I hope you like it and feel free to comment and tell me what you think!

XOXO

Taglist @crazyonesarethebest​ @gwendelerynan​ @yes-captainstark​ @foggyturtleknightangel​ @moonchild-stuff​ @lasswarrior​ @bitchimalivesadly​ @bloodoftargaryen​ @damniitjim​ @kxnngsshirecoffee​ @dipsylou​ @demonquartz​ @shanty-lol​ @melissalune​

[mimikoflamemaker]

Witcher OC Ask Meme – Neve

In the spirit of @oxenfurt-archives​ January Theme “Something Ends and Something Begins” and introductory ask meme for Neve. Neve is my disaster child and I love her, however it took me literal years to create her – I was fan of the books before the games came out, but it was the Witcher 3 that finally gave me the ground I could work on comfortably. Let’s see what came out of it.

(ask meme by @mollumaukerie)

1. What is your OC’s name? Do they have a fake moniker or a nom de guerre?

Neve. Which means “snow” and pertains to her being born in the depths of the winter. Her mother never bothered to give her a more meaningful name and just chose the first thing that came to mind. Her father was never there to begin with.

Though later, that name came to correspond quite well with her cold and distrustful nature.

Due to her profession she uses plenty of fake name and back stories, sometimes thinking them up on the spot.

2. How old are they, and where do they fit in terms of current events in the Witcher universe? Have they aged naturally or through magical means?

It would be fair to just say that she isn’t sure as her exact birth date was never recorded. The action of the game takes place in 1272 and she is about a hundred years old at the time, which means she was born anywhere between 1172-1175 so around the same time as Yennefer.

Being told from the very young age that she is a product of crossbreeding and therefore not a full blooded elf, she was at the time, a little surprised by her apparent longevity, but after a while the thought faded into the background. Maybe she was just lucky in taking more after her mother. Maybe her mother never told her the truth about the birth father. It didn’t matter - she was busy with the real issues like surviving in the world that hated her for the way she was born.

Visually, she looks anything between twenty five and thirty five depending on who you ask.

3. Where do they come from? Did they grow up wealthy, well-off, or poor?

Neve comes from Blue Mountains – being born into the scoia’tael commando, meant that she moved a lot as soon as she was capable of following her elders. So she doesn’t really know where exactly she comes from, so when asked she usually says, that she is from Ban Ard – when she is feeling safe and honest enough to tell the thing closest to the truth.

Growing up like that meant no permanent place to live and more often than not, hunger. She was quickly thought to fend for herself, because as much as the children were considered precious by the elves and taken care of to the best of their abilities, Neve never tasted a proper, parental love, so she took the matter in her own hands as soon as she could, trying to at least be useful if she couldn’t be loved.

4. Do they have a family? Are they on good or bad terms with them?

Rhoenna – neve’s mother, she was a hunter and a regular fighter in the commando. She doesn’t know who her father is or where he might be now and she really doesn’t care. Her mother certainly never cared about her going as far as telling the girl that she was unwanted and a mistake. As a child, she did feel hurt by such treatment, but she learned to fend for herself on her own. And years had faded that memories to the point of not caring. Why would she care for people that never bothered to care for her? Besides, her mother was dead. And if her father was a human like she claimed he was most certainly dead as well.

5. What kind of personality do they have? How do they handle strong emotions of anger, grief, fear, etc?

Neve keeps a carefully crafted image of herself that she put up for others and molds depending on her needs. Most often given her line of work, she chooses to show confidence and competence, not shying away from showing of her various skills if necessary. She tends to be brash and a bit arrogant at times – a no-nonsense type of person that seen enough of life and doesn’t have the time of people’s bullshit.

That said, she doesn’t handle emotion well, even if it mostly reflects in her mental state. She has so much insecurities she hides from the world fearing that they might give others a way to exploit her, that any instance of feeling any sort of distress could be the tipping point for her. Therefore she tries her hardest to keep her feelings on the leash. But there are cracks if someone bothers to look.

She would often go with anger if she has to let off some steam. Anger is the easiest to handle. Violence can give her the momentary satisfaction, making her feel powerful. It is also the best way to assert dominance in some cases, especially when you are a woman surrounded by men most of the time.

Anger is probably the only emotion she allows to take over – and an emotion that often serves as the replacement for other things she feels.

6. Do they wear their heart on their sleeve or play their cards close to the chest?

She doesn’t really know the meaning of the word “honesty”. Is that even a thing? Neve chooses what she tells to whom, choosing lies over truth most of the time. She lies to get herself a better job, she lies to wiggle herself into the graces of powerful people and she lies to get herself out of trouble. But she also builds bits and pieces of truth into her lies. And she really knows how to lie – she is capable of making anybody believe her – maybe except for those capable of reading minds.

There is really no way of telling when she lies and when she tells the truth, which makes most people wary of her. And causes some problems, because if she decides to actually be honest for once, more often than not people don’t believe her.

7. What is their moral compass like? Do they abide the law, an organizational creed, or their own moral code?

Neve follows her own moral code, which can seem convoluted to the people around her, because she is just as likely to kick the beggar in the teeth as she is to shower them with money. She herself says that she only cares about whatever she wants to do at the moment, but she isn’t a complete chaos. She does abide the law when her safety and survival depends on it. She is ready to fit herself within the rules and regulations of let’s say the army for the same reason. But she is not afraid to toss it all to wind if she feels the need to. Because above all else, she craves her freedom – even if she knows that people like her cannot really be truly free. So she settles for whatever short instances of it she can catch.

8. Are there certain traits they value? Honour, integrity? Or do they feel such things aren’t necessary to live true to oneself?

Neve values adaptability, competence, versatility… the traits of a survivor and traits that can be useful in any way to her or her goal. She doesn’t care much about the personality of the people she surrounds herself with as long as they can get the job done or they are giving her the sense of safety. She isn’t all that fond about so called “higher values” thinking them all either a smoke screen, hiding the more sinister things or an utter bullshit fed to children through tales so they wouldn’t vex their parents.

The instances where those things turned out to somehow be true were just an exception from the general rule and nothing more.

 9. What is their presence like? How are they perceived through posture, gait, and demeanour?

Much like with her personality, most things Neve’s appear to be is a carefully crafted image, build for the sake of fooling the world around her. To enforce the personality she wants people so see. So she moves with grace and easy confidence, head held high in spite of her pointy ears. She wears armour and weapon and makes sure that people understand quickly that those are not for show. But is she needs to be flirty, she is going to lean over and unbutton a few buttons more. She becomes what the situation needs her to be – like a chameleon.

10. What drives them? Do they have high ambitions or none at all?

Survival. Survival is what drives her from the early childhood. The will to live. And the desire to show the middle finger to the world that hates her. Does she has any higher ambitions? Not really – she knows that someone for her social standing is worth little more than a dirt. Maybe if she was born a mage, she would be able to forge a different fate for herself. But she was not born a mage.

[Part 1]

[missmeltycat]

LT elf types headcanons??

I finally got round to doing this, so sorry for the wait anon.

I had a giggle with some of the names. They might not be 100% accurate as far as language goes, but I created them just to tease and keep with the Íþróttaálfurinn theme. ;)

—

High Elves or the Elf Committee/Council

High elves are the nobility of the elven race. However, they are more like a senate and are known as the Álftanefnd, or ‘Elf Committee’. They tend to wear regal clothing, have light complexions, log and straight hair. The ears of a high elf vary, just as personalities do, but generally they can be regarded as snooty, or overly-critical and tend to all have long ears regardless of biological sex.

A high elf is graceful and elegant. They like the finer things, but that’s just their personal preference. They have certain expectations too. High standards. If they are not met, they can feel somewhat cranky. They also have a temper, but generally try to keep it in check. One wouldn’t want to lose control, it wouldn’t be very becoming would it? Sometimes people call them two-sided, as they can appear kind and generous, but also cold and unfeeling on other occasions.

Generally, they are neither good, nor bad. They just like things the way they like them and there’s nothing wrong with that!

Sports Elf

Ah, Íþróttaálfurinn. Energetic, excitable, honest, hugely dedicated and motivated.

Some say their energy and enthusiasm can come off as irritating or tiring, but they don’t understand why. To them, it’s normal. People should be active whenever they can, in their opinion. For the rest, however, their energy is contagious and they know how to liven a place up.

They love teaching people new skills and showing off their own. Things come so naturally to them and they pick up skills like they are nothing. They also love to educate people on the importance of healthy eating. 'Without good food in the tank, your engine will die’.

Sports are their main forte, be it soccer, basketball, baseball, golf, or even aerobics and they are good at them all.

They are somewhat innocent-minded and a little naive, but not in a bad way by any means.

Dance Elf

Dansa álfur, or Dansaálfurinn. Raised in the north and taught to dance in the school of movement, they are a master of dance.

They are dedicated, loyal and kind with a can-do attitude, but they can sometimes be a little clumsy when not engrossed in dance. They find when they are focused, they are always at their best.

Dance is an expression of the soul and they find that their style changes with their moods. Moods that do change easily. While they don’t tend to feel sad much and are positive thinkers, they do find themselves becoming somewhat drained and in need of a good pick-me-up. 'Bananas are a great source of potassium and help with energy drains and muscle cramps!’

While positive generally, they find themselves prone to bouts of self-doubt and can often rely on other elves for guidance and motivation, as well as a good hug.

Music Elves

Tonlistálfurinn, the music elf. Raised in the northeast and taught their craft in the schools of melody. Their kind has offshoots depending on the music they specialise in and each have their own unique personality.

Classical Tonlistálfurinn are graceful, elegant and ethereal with kind hearts. They love playing piano, violin and other such intruments.

Jazz Tonlistálfurinn are fun-loving, eager beavers who are always there to liven up a place with their sound and boisterous laughter. Saxophones & trumpets are their go-to.

Rock and Metal Tonlistálfurinn have a bad reputation, but they are sweethearts with a good nature and wicked sense of humour. Guitars, drums and bass are their forte.

Pop Tonlistálfurinn. Bright hair, clothing and smiles! They’re energetic and very positive! Singing is their go to.

Há Tonlistálfurinn are a jack of all trades and are skilled in all forms of music. All instruments are easily learned by them and are kind. Though their temper may show sometimes

Nature Elf

Náttúranálfurinn were raised inland and taught their skills in the gardens of Álfagarður.

The gardening elves are quiet natured, green fingered and like their alone time. The green fingers of the elf world, only a few are sent on assignment to assist the humans, while the rest stay in the elf world and grow food for the schools and council/committee. They love people, but tend to be somewhat timid and shy at first. Though, when you get to know them, they can be warm and nurturing, much like with the plants they tend.

Despite liking solitude when working, they love to teach their skills, as seeing plants thrive is something they live for. They are the father/mother figures who give good advice and warm meals and hugs. They will always be there if a pointy ear is needed.

They dress very traditionally as opposed to many others, preferring muted and earthy tones to more flashy and vibrant colours. They don’t like to draw attention, after all. Leave that to the Tonlistálfurinn!

Animal Elf

The Dýraálfurinn are actually an offshoot of the Nature Elves (Náttúranálfurinn), but are a class all of their own. They are raised anywhere with animals and nature and taught in the field with a hands on approach.

They are in charge of animals, be it wild or tame and seek to protect any in the human world. These elves have one foot in the land of the Huldufólk and one in the land of the humans at all times to keep natural balance. As such, these elves tend to stay in the shadows or hidden from view and do not need an airship like the rest of the adventuring elves do. They stay connected to their woodland, forest, marsh, etc and a portal is made to allow travel to and from the elf world and back again. However, they are usually transported via another elves’ airship to get to the assigned spot so they can see the lay of the land from above before they go down on foot and will stay for the rest of their lives going back and forth between realms.

Cautious, critical, highly protective.

Architect Elf

Arkitektálfurinn, the builders and shapers of the world of the Huldufólk. Raised in the north west and taught their skills in the Húsasmiðir buildings.

They are honourable, kind, friendly, creative and sharp minded. They make repairs and build new things, as well as help the scribes and other classes create wonders.

There are a few roles in the Arkitektálfurinn class like a few other roles. These each have their own skill sets and fit elves with certain personalities.

Bricklaying elves are loud, brash, jolly with a sense of duty and respect for fellow builders.

Glaziers are all about the details. They are nit-picky, keen-eyed and tend to squabble amongst each other a little from time to time, to all in good spirit.

Carpenters are salt of the earth and always with a good word to say, yet also have to have order. They have a place for all tools and hold the other classes to that standard. Don’t ever touch one of these elves’ tools!

Metallurgists are silent types. Let them work!

Airship Builder Elf

Loftskipálfurinn have one place of education inland. They are a rare breed of elf who are handpicked and sent to various schools to learn metallurgy, engineering, building skills, aerodynamics and many other skills to apply them in their specific area of expertise. Airship building.

All elves sent out on missions to assist humans are given their own airship! This is custom built for the elf to suit their needs and skills and each one is unique. This takes a lot of time and energy, as well a a huge amount of skill from the builders.

As such, the airship building elf is not afraid of hard work. They get down to buisiness right off the bat and are massively adaptable. They are knowledge sponges and love learning anything that could help them. They are also competitive and will race against other builders to see who can finish first and make the best airship, often resulting in stunning creations.

Eccentric, fun-loving, energetic, hard-working and lovers of aesthetics.

Scribe Elf

Skrifaðuálfurinn, or the scribes of the elven world. They are taught in the hidden libraries and record everything that goes on, any elves that are sent out on assignment and the results of and any relevant information needed. There are several offshoots of this type of elf.

Scribes stay in the elf world and remain in the towers of records which are dotted throughout the land. They record everything and maintain the records.

Poets compose the songs and poetry that elves are famous for. They sometimes are sent on assignment to the human world to help them with inspiration or even as a duo team with Tonlistálfurinn the music elves where they write songs and perform them.

Storytellers compose the legends and entertain the younglings. These also can be sent on assignment to the human world to assist in story writing.

Food/Cooking/Baking Elf

Matarálfurinn, food/cooking/baking elves, raised in the south in warmer temperatures and taught their skills in the halls of the elves with masters.

These elves have a big heart, a loud laugh and enjoy a good joke. They are always very generous and love to give out samples of their days work. Their whistling and singing can be heard drifting through the halls as elves of all varieties and ages dine on sumptuous feasts made by the masters and their pupils.

Some of the Matarálfurinn are sent to assist humans, but the rest stay at home and are placed throughout the elf world to cook and feed the masses.

Great advice and big, warm hugs (Though sometimes a little too tight for some) they are the best elves to form friendships with. Bonds with Matarálfurinn last for life and they will go out of their way to make sure you are happy. Not to mention well-fed.

Tailor Elf

Klæðskeriálfurinn the tailor elves. Raised and educated in the south east in the loom valleys where the art of clothes making and other sewing is prevalent.

They generally stay put in the land of the Huldufólk like a number of other types of elf. However, they can on occasion be sent on assignment to the land of the humans to help with clothing, sewing and other maintenance. The tale of the Elves and the Shoemaker was an adapted version of true events that happened when three Klæðskeriálfurinn were sent on assignment to assist a human in great need. The tale has been adapted many times and the true nature of the elves lost, but the story is generally accurate.

These elves are playful when young, but grow up to be more serious and have a keen sense of duty and honour. They are hard-working, but demand fairness. A great sense of justice and equality, they view anyone tasked with the same job as them as 'weak-chinned’ (No spirit or simpering) if they don’t pull their weight equally.

Artist Elf

Listamaðurálfurinn, the artist elves. Raised and taught in the special artist schools of the elf world in the south, these elves are joyful, creative and artistic. They are seens as eccentric and vivid in both attire, imagination and personality.

Some consider them to be too strange, but most find them a breath of fresh air.

There are various types of Listamaðurálfurinn from painters, to potters and beyond. Each have a bold and go-get-em attitude to life and nothing stands in their way. They express every emotion they have via their art form and even negativity is transformed into beauty at their hands.

These elves are one of the more common next to Sports Elves (Íþróttaálfurinn), Music Elves (Tonlistálfurinn) and Dance Elves (Dansaálfurinn) to be sent out on assignment to the human world and are very popular with young children or artists who are struggling with artist’s block.

It is rumoured that an old Listamaðurálfurinn tutor at the academy once assisted Leonardo Da Vinci.

Miner Elf

Námuvinnsluálfurinn, the mining elves. Raised and educated underground in the mines deep below by masters of the trade.

They are considered to be the more common of the classes, though all being equal in the elf world. Some have a bad reputation, but are vital for all resources connected with the mines. It is not very often a mining elf ventures to the human world and prefers to stay hidden. They will, however, use connecting tunnels made by humans to get to their own mines, though they stay hidden.

Some can be playful and mischievious, lending them an almost sinister quality, though none wish any harm on anyone. In fact, they are behind the human world phenomenon of the Tommyknocker. A knocking sound that warns of cave ins.

These elves mine for minerals and gems which are invaluable in the elf world for their healing properties and energy. They also mine for metals to use for building airships for adventuring elves.

Emotional/Psychological/Therapist Elf

Sálfræðingur álfur (Sálfræðingurálfurinn - What a mouthful!) are there for the emotional needs of all races. They can be called on much like some of the other roles, but also serve in the elven community providing emotional support. Some roles are tough and can lead to some psychological and emotional issues, so these elves are on hand at all times back in the elven homelands. Some are given the go ahead to leave and travel like the more active roles, but most stay home until they are called on.

Mannlegur Álfur

Known as the Mannlegur Álfur, you are the very rare and taboo result of an Elf and Human bond. A 'human elf’. You are half elf and half human. As such, you have strong abilities that humans consider 'supernatural’ or 'magical’ such as intuition, the ability to see the future, and a number of other skills.

Sadly, as a Mannlegur Álfur you would not be permitted to see the elf world without special permission from the council and none have ever obtained such. You are a bridge between worlds and can offer help to both humans and elf alike with your experiences of the human world and the skills from your elf blood.

All Mannlegur Álfur have similar traits. They are somewhat cautious by nature. Keen to protect themselves and those they care for, they are seekers of knowledge, they often feel out of place, as if they don’t belong and they are keen to help others sometimes at their own expense. Animals are drawn to them, as are children and they find plants grow easily around them.

[homebrewsno1asked4]

Wah

Full disclosure: I played an entire 20-level Dungeons and Dragons campaign as a character based on Waluigi.

An entire campaign

like almost 2(?) years of my life

playing a joke character

I based on Waluigi.

Scratchy nasal voice and going waaa and everything.

I wore a goddamn Waluigi hat.

I’m torn on this, folks. On the one hand, I feel like I should’ve changed my character to a more original creation after a couple levels. Play as a joke character for a little while to get used to 5E, then switch over to one of my brainchildren.

On the other hand, I fucking love Waluigi. I’ve wanted a Waluigi game since the Nintendo 64 era. I despaired when Nintendo failed us again last year (I’M LOOKING AT YOU, SAKURAI).

Well, what’s done is done. My Level Ridiculous Moon Elf Rogue-Ranger is part of our old group’s canon timeline, becoming the kingpin of the Baldur’s Gate underworld.

Strange, the passing of time.

Without further ado, a Waluigi build! After I deleted like half my notes when I shouldn’t have. Not like it was an accident - it was a totally conscious decision I regretted a few days later when trying to figure out why the hell I picked the things I did.

TOO BAD, WALUIGI TIME.

Race

Outwardly, Waluigi’s clearly a half-elf, if I had to pick a Wizards-sanctioned D&D race. Noodle build, big pointy ears, somehow still grows facial hair.

In the campaign I mentioned, I made my boy a moon elf. And his mustache was magical because elves can’t grow facial hair. I never fully fleshed out the magic mustache’s origin.

Functionally, neither elf nor half-elf caters to the Waluigi experience. Half-elves get that major Charisma bump. Waluigi’s not a charismatic fella; doesn’t play nice with others, throws fits. You know the type. Plus the Fey Ancestry feature doesn’t quite match up.

My number one choice? Githyanki.

That little Intelligence increase: Between him and Wario, he’s supposed to be a bit more cunning, more the Snidely Whiplash type.

Strength Boost: Waluigi’s always statted as a heavyweight/high-power character.

Githyanki Psionics: So githyanki get these psionic-flavored spell-like abilities at levels 1, 3, and 5. Mage Hand’s a bit of a stretch. Idk, Waluigi always has an abnormally long reach in Mario Sportball. But githyanki get Jump and Misty Step at levels 3 and 5, respectively. In multiple games, Waluigi has Super Jump abilities, and in at least one of the Mario Strikers titles, he has the ability to kind of Nightcrawler-bamf while he’s running.

Note: I’m aware Gith are kinda… noseless. Maybe your Waluigi Gith wears a false one, or a plague doctor mask, I dunno. Like he’s self-conscious about not having a nose, or the nose and mustache is their shitty disguise and everyone just goes along with it.

Class

Again, I picked Rogue for my way-too-long tenure playing High Fantasy Waluigi.

Looking back, I don’t think that was a bad way to go. He’s highly skilled, has well-rounded stats with an emphasis on Defense and Control (equal to DEX in a D&D framework, I guess?), and a set of special moves focused on sabotaging other characters.

I considered Alchemist (the ENWorld template), because Waluigi and his stages and items and stuff usually have a bomb motif. But beyond the bombs, I don’t think the Alchemist’s abilities are as neat a fit.

Subclass

My version of a D&D Waluigi was an Arcane Trickster. After looking into some of his more obscure abilities, I think that was the best way to go! Unfortunately, I didn’t use my abilities to their full Waluigi-ness.

The Mario Bros. and Wario all need power-ups to give them an edge. (With a few notable exceptions, like in Superstar Saga where Mario and Luigi unlock the ability to wield fire and lightning, respectively.) Waluigi, on the other hand, demonstrates several innate magical abilities. To name a few: surrounding himself with whirlwinds, summoning walls of thorns, filling the arena with water, cloaking his projectiles with illusions, etc. These lend beautifully to an Arcane Trickster, with a suggested spell list below:

Cantrips

gust

mage hand

minor illusion

shape water

true strike

Level 1

catapult

feather fall

fog cloud

jump

magic missile

silent image

Level 2

darkvision

dust devil

gust of wind

levitate

magic weapon

misty step

warding wind

Level 3

fireball

major image

tidal wave

wall of water

Level 4

control water

dimension door

Evard’s black tentacles

Background

The Criminal background seems obvious, but mechanically, I think two other backgrounds fit better:

Gladiator (Entertainer variant) and Harborfolk (Elemental Evil).

Acrobatics because that boy can jump (I’d rather demonstrate with GIFs, but I am lazy) and he can like swim through the air for no reason; and he’s a big ol ham, so Performance.

Gladiator also grants you proficiency in an unusual weapon. In all his appearances, Waluigi doesn’t really use weapons, besides bombs and Bullet Bills and other explosives/ballistics. If your DM allows firearms in their world, that could be his “Unusual Weapon” proficiency. Otherwise, I was thinking if I had the chance to redo a Waluigi-inspired character, I would use bats; baseball bats, tennis rackets, cricket bats (I like the image of D&D Waluigi cracking skulls with a cricket bat, I dunno why), etc. You could probably just borrow stats for clubs.

For Harborfolk: Athletics and Sleight of Hand make sense to me, and because of his high Control in the Mario Kart series, I’d say any vehicle proficiency is a good fit.

Suggested Characteristics

Gladiator

Personality Trait: I get bitter if I’m not the center of attention.

Ideal: Greed. I'm only in it for the money and fame.

Bond: I want to be famous, whatever it takes.

Flaw: I have trouble keeping my true feelings hidden. My sharp tongue lands me in trouble.

Harborfolk

Personality Trait: I'm a fisher, but I secretly detest eating fish. I will do anything to avoid it.

Ideal: I will gain the favor of someone powerful.

Bond: [A gang/faction] killed my friend. I'll get them back somehow, someday.

Flaw: I oversell myself and make promises I can't keep when I want to impress someone.

Suggested Feats

Acrobat

Athlete

Defensive Duelist

Durable

Elemental Adept

Magic Initiate

Resilient

Sharpshooter

Skilled

Spell Sniper

Congrats! You survived my first post! Your reward?

MORE TRASH!!

Stay tuned for just a bit more Waluigi!

“Please no stop with the Waluigi. I will kill myself and then you if you say “Waluigi” one more goddamn time.”

I hear you. I’m not changing my behavior, but I hear your complaints. But let me explain:

For some characters, I’ll be following up the “Canon Builds” (the format of this here post) with a new subclass targeting these characters. I’ll usually make a “Character Class” if some vital part of the character and their abilities feels missing from the Canon Build, if I couldn’t find anything that fit.

For instance, I relied on a lot of stretches of the imagination for Waluigi, relying on stuff like his Mario Sportball stats and specials to select the closest analogous things in D&D. Using Arcane Trickster, I captured some of his weirder, more obscure abilities.

But remember the Snidely Whiplash thing I mentioned earlier? I feel like that’s Waluigi’s core: explosives and sabotage. And other classes known for using explosives – Artificer and Alchemist – I don’t think quite cut it.

So stay tuned for the Dastardly Prankster Roguish Archetype! Unless I come up with a better name! Until then, ta-ta!