#IT NEVER OCCURRED TO ME THAT THOSE TWO ARE ELVES WHAT THE HELL

[sparrownnax]

shit. is. is link legendofzegend an elf.

[elkenbulwark]

@fallesto cont.

The breed of contempt in his captor's words was not unknown to him. In fact, he heard it in just about every upper city elf's tongue-clicking tone- mainly from those that housed him and of course the other heirs of noble homes that would try in vain to pal around with Ren on his watch. Though he made it his business to always insert himself between these meetings before they could progress past a mere salutation, he was sure the air of disgust would remain when addressing him even if he sat nearby like a heeled hound without any sign that he'd stir up a scene with his barking. Elves, after all, were just as haughty as they were cruel and leave it to a complete stranger that he'd yet to meet aside from launching onto his balcony for a moment to drill that home with nails dug into his shirt collar beginning to pierce through to skin until he did himself a favor and stopped wiggling in his attempt to flip around and see who the hells was trying to detain him. Thankfully it didn't require a bout of squirming to issue a growl over his shoulder.

"...'magine that! An adult what hasn't checked out've reality the past two decades- what's there to gawk 'bout??" A thought occurred to him other than that of a rat pinned beneath a cat's paw as he gave a hardy huff. "Need I swap the di'lect? Sal hinual. Leha- kar va hin?" Atrocious accent, but there was only so much elvish one could pronounce with the placement of one's tusks.

Fully prepared to fall over the rail and bang his face on something on the way down, Birvor squeezed his eyes shut and jutted his jaw to the side, aiming a cheek at the street in the half hopes the bone under his eye would catch a crack in preference to his jaw, but the drop never came. Instead he felt a strong yank and a guiding hand straightening his back up for him. It might have closed his jaw for him if he left it open long enough, but a click of teeth was all he needed for him to come to his senses before the balcony's squinty-eyed security. "What e'zactly didja ya mean by 'debt'?" He wondered under his breath, ears drawn back, a frown pinned in place with his tusks as his weary gaze found the homeowner's. Definitely looked like one of the fancy-forward neighbors. Wasn't actually a surprise to have something asked of him- it was actually expected of him to help any of the nearby nobles with passing requests to help spread the influence of the Cragdews, but still...getting caught looking like he was about to start breaking and entering didn't exactly warrant an errand run, did it?

"Look, if ya just needed someone to scrub the grime out your windows, all ya needed to do was tell me what time and day-" A blinkered look was followed by an attempt to step back and loosen the grip of nails in his neck which he shook lightly upon hearing what other confusing 'nonse the homeowner had to riddle into being. "I don't 'ccept tips. Makes the folks look bad, they said." Something about what the other said gave him pause enough to furrow his brow, and he took another step back, though only had enough tether between him and the arm grasping him to go half a step. "Lost what now? You tryna find a whole cleanin' crew, or what?"

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

Wolfstar's First Kiss

"Moony, fancy a smoke with me?"

Sirius' smile. Those beautiful puppy eyes. Remus could melt right there and then. Sirius could convince him of anything. Remus hated depending on Sirius this much. But he was so into him. Each day more than the last.

Remus nodded smiling. Sirius dragged him to the Astronomy tower. A private place. Away from the party occuring in the Common Room.

Once they got out in the night air, Remus shivered. But he didn't know if it was because of the cold. Or because he was nervous to be with Sirius alone.

Sirius turned to look at him expecting. He smiled.

"Oh I am one that has to have the cigs, ha?"

Sirius smiled wider "Thank you, Moony. I promise I will pay you back"

"You won't, you tosser" Remus rolled his eyes "But it's okay" he was smiling. He was smiling like an idiot as he gave Sirius a cig.

"Cheers Moony" Sirius winked.

Remus found himself staring at Sirius while he lit up his cig and inhaled it. How his neck moved. How his lips moved. How he closed his eyes. Sirius was beautiful. And that bastard knew it. And Remus was under his charm. Since 5th year.

'You will never have him' Remus thought

"Idiot" he murmured

"What?"

Shit. He said that out loud.

"Nothing"

Sirius smirked amused. They smoked in silence. Remus tried to focus on the wonderful view they got from the tower. He was cold. But this place was beautiful.

Remus felt Sirius' gaze on him. It was intense. And Sirius wasn't trying to be discreet. He just stared. The way he had done since they met. But this time, Remus' temperature was raising. Sirius even scooped closer. Remus' hand was on the railing. Sirius lied his hand right next to his. They weren't touching, but Remus could feel the heat coming from it. His heart beating fast.

"Merlin... I think I am a bit drunk" Remus snorted.

Almost immediately, Sirius said "Do you like Emmeline?" as if Remus hadn't said anything.

Emmeline Vance had been trying to dance with Remus, chat with Remus. And he tried to act flirty. But only because Sirius was watching them. And Remus wanted to make him jealous. Bloody idiot.

'I like someone else, idiot. You' he thought.

"I don't know..." Remus sighed "I guess she is cool"

"Cool?" Sirius asked puzzled like he didn't understand the meaning of the word "But she has this big mouth... It's kind of too big for her face"

Remus let out a chuckle.

"She is 'Frog Face'" the boys had chosen that nickname for her. James and his stupid nicknames.

"You should probably stop calling her that" Remus laughed

"If she doesn't come close to you, I might"

Sometimes Sirius said some confusing things. It made Remus hopeful. Like perhaps he liked him that way. But no. Sirius was just like that. Flirty. Sirius flirted with everyone. Girls, boys, teachers, parents even Padfoot was flirty as a dog. With his big grey eyes.

"She doesn't like me Pads" Remus said shaking his head.

"Of course she does! She is mental about you" Sirius said it like he was annoyed by it "She'd been trying to flirt with you for weeks"

Remus snorted. 'Girls had been flirting with you for years' he thought.

"She wouldn't feel the same if she knew what I was" Remus shook his head. He meant it as a joke but it was true.

"Don't say that!" Sirius protested

"It is true though" Remus sighed "Do you think she... well actually any decent person would be pleased finding out about my 'fury little problem'? They would be disgusted... Or terrified... So the illusion would be over..." Remus laughed softly.

"Remus stop!" Sirius sounded angry.

Remus turned to look at him. His expression was unreadable. He moved his mouth trying to say something. Or thinking about what to say. There was nothing he could say. Remus knew that. He smiled slightly. But Sirius still looked hurt.

"Remus fuck that... Anyone would be... You are amazing. If Emmeline or any other person push you away because of that, then fuck them" Sirius was playing with his hair which meant that he was nervous. Remus knew him pretty well.

"Siri..."

"You are beautiful!" Sirius interrupted "Bloody hell! I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. So brave. So beautiful. So intelligent. So amazing..." he swallowed "Whoever is with you, would be the luckiest person in the world. I wish... I want..."

Remus was so overwhelmed. He didn't know why Sirius was saying all those things. But Remus loved them. He didn't care about Emmeline or any girl, any boy, any person. Just Sirius. Only Sirius.

"You are the one who is gorgeous and incredible, Sirius" Remus smiled. He was eyeing at Sirius' lips. How Sirius was licking them and biting them nervously.

"Moony..." Sirius sighed. He was trying to say something but Remus didn't care anymore. He stepped closer. As close as he could get to Sirius. Sirius immediately closed his eyes. Breathing hard. His chest going up and down. Remus was the same. But somehow he was being confident now. He leaned closer. His eyes still opened. Watching every single movement Sirius made. How he was nervous and adorable. Was he waiting for a kiss? His lips were parted.

Their foreheads were touching. They were breathing each other. Trying to get rid of the nervousness. Trying to figure out what was going on. And Remus decided to take the lead. Because he couldn't take it anymore. Remus needed to kiss Sirius.

Remus rushed his lips against Sirius'. And Sirius immediately responded. It was just one kiss when Sirius pushed him away.

Remus wanted more. His body was leaning again.

"I guess we are pretty drunk, ha?" Sirius smiled slightly, he was panting.

Drunk? Fuck forget about the drunk. About alcohol and shit. He could do this sober. He could do this anytime. He had been wanting this for years. And it was finally happening.

"Yeah" Remus nodded panting as well "I guess we are"

Remus kissed him again. Sirius responded again. And this time they were more sure. They began exploring each other's lips and tongues. Sirius was running his hand through Remus' hair. It was perfect.

"Moony? Padfoot? Are you here?"

James' voice made the two broke apart immediately. Remus' lips trembled in protest for being cut off so quickly. They wanted more. Sirius looked away. Remus didn't know what to believe.

"There you are" James approached smiling. He was unaware of what just happened. Peter was behind him.

"You were smoking? Without me?" James asked offended between the two.

"You don't even smoke" Sirius answered. He was still not looking at Remus.

"Still" James smirked

"Good thing that you left the party" Peter commented "They started playing the Bee-gees and making dump choreographies" Peter laughed

"Davis was so drunk that he suggested making karaoke"

Remus and Sirius were not paying attention. They finally crossed glances and the world stopped. Remus smiled. Sirius smiled as well, unsure.

"Well you know a party turn to shit once I leave it" Sirius smirked going back to his old self. Remus breathed again. But he was happy.

"Modest as always" James put his arm around Sirius' shoulder "What do you reckon? We go to the kitchens and ask the elves for some food?"

"Yes! Please!!" Peter moaned "I am starving"

Remus smiled "As long as there's chocolate"

"Sure" James winked "Let's go"

The Marauders walked back inside.

[scarletarosa]

The War in Heaven and the False God

Most people have heard the legend of the Biblical War in Heaven of Lucifer and his angels against God. Though when young, I had always felt that the story was kept suspiciously short and lacked much sense. We are told of the angels not possessing much free-will, but also how could these divine beings suddenly just turn evil, as we are told? Due to these suspicions that there was more to the story than was told (as it is often said “the victors get to write history”), I decided to connect with Lucifer and other demons in order to learn from their perspective. This gradually led me to become a Luciferian and be told the full story of the War in Heaven.

The supreme deity is not Jehovah; he is neither all-powerful, all-wise, or benevolent. The supreme deity is the Source, the formless consciousness that has existed before all things and created the first gods of this Universe (the first among them being Lucifer). Though in order to create, the Source had to create from themself their female counterpart, the Queen of Heaven (who is formless as well). These two energies together create harmony and allow creation to come into being. The Source and Queen of Heaven have both been known throughout many different cultures under different names. For instance, the Source has been known as Atum in Egypt, Brahman in India, Olodumare in Yoruba, etc. The Queen of Heaven has been known as Adi Parashakti in India.

At the beginning, the Cosmic Egg was formed in the Void with the assistance of elder deities. When the egg broke open, the gods Eros and Lucifer emerged from it- Eros being love and Lucifer being light. Though they were meant to exist separately; Eros remained within the Void and Lucifer dwelled alone within the Universe for many ages until the other gods were created by the Source. Among these first gods were the Angels Mikael, Raphael, Uriel, and others. Lilith was created last among them as the embodiment of the Queen of Heaven (a smaller and less-powerful copy of Herself in order to act within the Universe and marry Lucifer). With these first deities, Lucifer the First-Born became their leader and assisted in the creation of other spiritual races. Overtime, more gods were created by both the Source and through sexual union between the elder deities.

It was during the early stages of the Earth when the aeonic god Jehovah came. The aeonic gods are extremely powerful deities who are tasked with co-creating the material and metaphysical Universe; they are normally peaceful, but for some reason, Jehovah came seeking even more power. His goal was to usurp the Throne of the Universe and take command of an entire planet, which ended up being Earth due to a specific species that was being created here: humans. The humans were a younger race and felt insecure about their lack of magickal prowess compared to the other species on Earth like the elves; this caused them to become deeply envious and greedy as a race. Jehovah had destroyed the ecosystem of several different planets on his way to Earth, causing life to be destroyed on them. As he arrived to Earth to claim it, Lucifer led a revolt against him and was followed by millions of deities and other entities. This battle was terrible for everyone since Jehovah’s great powers allowed him to be able to drain energy from spirits or even kill them at will. Countless entities lost their lives trying to destroy Jehovah, but to no avail. The arch-dragoness goddess, Tiamat, who had created Earth’s lifeforms in the sea, even gave her life to help empower Gaia against the tyrant god.  

When many spirits were destroyed and the survivors were crippled, Jehovah took them and threw them into the nightmarish land of torment called Hell. This is the realm that is far away from the Source’s divine light. Due to this, the deities and other beings who were sent here had their essence transformed by this horrible realm; causing them to become dark and more intense in appearance and presence. Their wings became black and they grew horns; some developed red eyes, spikes, claws, or other monstrous features. Though overall, they remained beautiful, only in a darker way. They became known as “demons”, now restricted from the heavens by Jehovah, who had now claimed the Throne. The demons were in great pain and suffering, as they had all lost family and friends in the battle, as well as their divine homeland. However, they had not lost their drive to destroy the tyrant who had taken everything from them. The three most powerful demons became High Kings of Hell and created their kingdoms where their people could live and train to continue the great War. These High Kings of Hell are Lucifer (the most powerful and wise), Satan, and Leviathan. Though these mighty rebels were soon falsely accused of being evil and representing things that were actually opposite of them (Lucifer being lies when he is truth, Lilith being infertility when she is life/motherhood, Beelzebub being gluttony when he is health, Mammon being greed when he is generosity, etc).  

Overtime, Jehovah was able to win humans over to his side by pretending to be the Source and manipulating them to believe that they were special if they followed him. Little did the humans know that their sins in life would never be forgiven, as Jehovah did not care for what they would end up facing in the Underworld or in Hell. It is also no surprise that the main people who forwarded monotheism were war-lords; all seeking power and dominion over others (see Emperor Constantine, Mohammad, and the ancient Jews who dismantled Canaan and killed the pagans there). With these new religions that inspired hate and fear towards other religions, blind faith towards scripture, and hatred towards any spirits that aren’t “holy”, the world gradually became swallowed by the tyrant’s influence. Pagans were massacred en-masse and their temples, holy sites, stories, statues, cultures, and more were all destroyed. Churches and mosques were built on top of sacred temple sites of polytheists and they were faced with the choice of either dying or converting. And with that, the entire world changed and became a shadow of its former glory.  

Yet all of this was allowed to occur by the Source since existence has always revolved around evolution, and no evolution can exist within perfection. In order to allow wisdom and other attributes to develop, as well as to teach important lessons, all beings are allowed to endure suffering. This suffering, if overcome, holds the key to rising to greater potentials. And so Jehovah was not immediately struck down, but was constantly faced with other forms of justice from not only the gods of vengeance, but also from receiving loads of karmic debt.

Back in the ancient times when other races still roamed this planet, such as the elves, giants, scorpion-men, nagas, and dragons, we had magick here in the physical. When magick was performed, it was actually able to be seen and even deities were able to manifest in the physical with ease. Though in order to keep humans blind, Jehovah destroyed the magickal nodes that surrounded the Earth and ordered his humans to destroy the sacred sites that helped channel magick. Then the other targets were the races of Earth that were not human, since they were less malleable to his will due to their advanced wisdom. The humans were already greedy and envious, so they were easily encouraged to wage war against any race that was different from them. The elves were brutally slaughtered, raped, and enslaved until they all died out; the same happened to many other species. When the humans began killing the dragons and sphinxes, who acted as wise mentors and guardians of the Earth, these mighty beings decided to leave the humans behind to fend for themselves for the rest of their existence. And still in hatred, the humans decided to record the dragons as if they were greedy and savage.  

Overtime, everything was set in place for Jehovah, but the demons and other entities continued to fiercely fight against him over the ages, and they still do. The tyrant god has never cared for any human who has followed him, as he seeks only power and destruction of other deities. He takes the credit for the miracles other deities perform for worthy humans, allowing such people to assume what they want about him. The gods who he killed do not die forever though, as spiritual death is different. But it often takes decades, hundreds of years, or in some cases, a million years, in order for them to reform. Yet, to most humans, the other gods are nothing more than legend now. They watch over the Earth still, helping anyone who seeks them and fighting to make the world how it was back during the Golden Age. Though it will never be the same after all the ages of terrible destruction and death. Even the soul of our planet, Gaia, has been asleep for many years due to the trauma of losing so many of her children.

For those who would argue that the demons could simply just be lying to me about these events, it does not explain why they have helped me to better myself or how they have protected my loved ones in times of need. They ask nothing of me but to evolve as a person and to show open-mindedness towards their harsh history. I do not hold hatred or bias towards those involved in monotheistic religions (unless they act oppressive), I only have hatred towards the religions themselves and their toxic teachings. As well as the hypocrisy of how they destroyed so many cultures and people, all while incorporating their mythology into their own scriptures.  

If we want to learn the truth, we first must question everything we already believe in and then speak to the spirits, as they know far more than we ever will. You can ask any deity you like and they will all say that they hate Jehovah, for he has pulled the veil of ignorance over this world in order to consume it. For anyone who truly seeks answers, keep this account by the demons in mind and ask any gods you want about the truth. Each deity and demon I spoke to said the same, and all had lost family due to this traumatic War against the tyrant god. These religions save no-one, we must take accountability and strive to become better without begging for forgiveness all the time and expecting mercy to be handed out just for bowing down to a god who kills those who defy him. All scriptures of monotheism are nothing but books of manipulation and holier-than-thou mentality; this creates corruption and false spirituality in the end.

The Angels

[rainydaymiddleearthimagines]

The Arrangement pt4

“I think we’re lost.”  “We’re not lost..” “If you give me ‘we’re misguided ‘ as a response one more time, I’m going to ‘misguide’ my foot up your arse.” You said. Aragorn pondered for a moment, debating on if he wanted to mess with you and tell you that again. “...Alright, fine, We’re lost.” He said. “Great. Give me a moment to get us back on track then.” you said, sitting down. 

Your ability to “hear and listen” to nature was stronger now. Arwen pointed that out to Aragorn the last time he found himself in Rivendell. When asked “What do you mean by stronger?” Arwen explained that when elves “listen” to nature, it is quiet and barely audible, usually requiring some form of silence to really hear. Most elves hear whispers. You, for some reason as of late, were hearing full voices. Something was making your connection to nature stronger, amplifying it. Aragorn had no idea what it was though, and that alone confused him. 

The answer was being kept from him. Two years had gone by now, since the two started traveling. One year had gone by since you came to the realization that you were in love with the man. You made a choice, one that would probably worry Aragorn if he knew. You gave up your immortality. Why this was amplifying your ability to speak to nature and listen, was odd. When elves die, they can be reborn, it’s what makes them immortal. However since you made the decision to sever such a connection, if you died, you would rejoin the earth, thus making your connection to the earth stronger. Elrond and Arwen both heavily discouraged you from your decision to do this but there was no stopping you. 

“We need to go east.” you said, getting up and walking. “Alright.” He nodded, waiting for you to take the lead. You guided him and you to the roads, finally making your way to Bree. You walked through the woods, closing your eyes and just listening. Aragorn noticed you seemed at peace, the sun shining on your beautiful skin. You were more quiet as of late. It was odd to have this sudden lack of silence during your travels. When it first started occurring, Aragorn thought he did something to make you upset. When he asked why you were so quiet, you simply told him “I have a lot on my mind. Listening to nature helps with the overthinking.” And just continued in silence. You seemed to get lost in thought more and more lately. 

It didn’t take long to make it to the Prancing Pony, a place where both of you had been so many times that the inn keeper kept a room with two beds on standby. You walked in, Barliman looking up. “Elfie!” He said excitedly. A nickname given to you by the inn keeper. At first it annoyed you, now it’s more of a endearing nickname. “Evening, Barli.” you said with a smile. Aragorn smiled at you. “The room’s already prepared.” He said to Aragorn. “Thank you.” He nodded. You handed Barliman two rabbits that you had caught and he nodded as a thank you, handing you shillings. You handed them to Aragorn seeing as you didn't find use of them, who took them with a small smile 

Aragorn and you walked into your room, you sitting by the window and fiddling with your necklace, the silver emblem having that glow. It was the only sign on you that you were royalty seeing as you never wore your circlet outside of Rivendell. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” Aragorn asked, sitting across from you. You looked at him and then out the window. “Something is going on.” you said. “What do you mean?” He asked. “I keep hearing... Orcs. The trees keep talking of Orcs.” You said looking at him. “Orcs are never a good sign.” Aragorn said. “Something is happening. I don’t know what it is but there is something happening.” You said. Aragorn noticed your worried eyes. “Y/n... Do you wish to return home now? We could make it back in the morning if we leave now.” Aragorn asked. You shook your head. “No... You need your rest, I’m sure I’m just overthinking this.” you said softly. He noticed the hidden anxieties behind your eyes but nodded slowly. “Alright.” He said.

You weren’t over thinking this. It was around two in the morning when the trees kicked into full swing of trying to alert you. 

Attack. Brothers. Danger. Rivendell.

You shifted in your sleep, immediately waking Aragorn. You were so still when you slept, the room was usually silent. This was unusual for you to be moving, even slightly. He watched you, seeing your sleeping figure, still after a little bit. 

Brothers. Danger. Attack. Rivendell.

Again, those words, but a different order. What did it mean? Nature was trying to alert you, but you didn't know why. The message became clearer as you listened.

Your brothers are in danger. Attack near Rivendell. 

You bolted up with a gasp, Aragorn leaning up. “Y/n, what’s wrong?” He asked. “The orcs are on a route to Rivendell-- my brothers are in danger.” you said, a panicked look falling over you. He got up, sliding his boots on. “We will make it.” He assured. You nodded, grabbing your pack. You ran down the stairs, Aragorn running with you as you sprinted to your horses. 

You were terrified as you rode, not saying a word outside of prayer, praying to any divine being that your family was safe. You rode through the woods, listening to the trees for context.

Sister.

Arwen was trying to communicate. “Nimeár- mime seler ni'm símen. “ You whispered, your voice traveling through the leaves as you rode. Aragorn rode next to you, watching your eyes. You would close them, clearly communing with nature as you rode. You rode quickly, trying to find one of your brothers on the outskirts of Rivendell. “ Which otorno? Where na- so?” You whispered. The direction of the breeze changed and you immediately got off your horse, sprinting in the direction. Aragorn followed, you finding no sign of your brothers. “Fucking hell-- where are they?” you said, panic rising in your voice. “HALT!” A voice yelled. “Who are-- Aragorn?” Elladan stopped. You let out a relieved sigh. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “Orcs are coming, where is Elrohir?” You asked. “Here!” Elrohir said, making you turn. “We made it.” you said relieved. “We need to alert father of a potential attack.” Elrohir said. “I’m not letting you go on your own.” you said. “We can’t leave the outside unguarded, what do you suggest we do?” Elladan asked. “Aragorn stay with Elladan--" "Aragorn?" Elladan asked, recognition of the name and face suddenly hitting both of your brothers. "I’ll go with Elrohir.” You said, disregarding their amazement to the man. “Y/n--” You looked at Aragorn with a pleading look. “Stay safe.” He said. 

You ran through the woods, sprinting next to your brother. “Have a good time on your trip?” Elrohir asked as you ran. “I always do.” you muttered. You looked behind you and frowned. “They’re here!” you said. An arrow whizzed past your head. “They’re dividing and conquering.”  Elrohir noticed as small groups seemed to split up. You ran through the gates, booking it to the library. “We’re under attack.” You said. Elrond put his book down and Arwen looked up. “What?” He asked. 

He will fall.

Your head turned. “Get the soldiers. NOW!” you said before running. Elrohir rallied the soldiers as they all charged, you running as fast as you could back to Elladan and Aragorn. You fought your way through orcs to see Aragorn and Elladan fighting off the creatures. Aragorn looked over, you cutting someone down next to him. “The soldiers are doing their jobs, we should try to make it back to the city.” Elladan yelled as he cut down a orc. You nodded, trying to guide the group to safety.

An arrow whizzed through the air, hitting Aragorn in the chest, along with another hitting his leg. sound drowning out. “ARAGORN!” you screamed with a terrified look. You ran to him, blocking any attacks as he fell. You removed the arrows, looking him in the eyes. He seemed to struggle to even form words in the moment. "I-I--" he coughed. "I-I'm sorry." He muttered, his vision getting hazy. He seemed almost delirious in his words. “We need to get him home Y/n, there’s nothing we can do here!” Elladan said, you whistling loudly and Elrohir rode over. “What happened?” He asked, Elladan lifting Aragorn slightly. “It- it was-- it was an arrow, it hit him-- It’s bad Elrohir.” you said. Elrohir dismounted the horse. “Take him, we will fight here.” Elrohir said. “But--” “Go!” He said. You pulled Aragorn up, him leaning against you. 

His consciousness was fading too quickly, you riding at full speed. You rode through the  square, Aragorn muttering incoherently “Stay with me Aragorn...” you whispered as you reached the medical wing. Medics rushed and Arwen ran over. “What happened?” she asked. You seemed to be in a state of shock, shaking as the medics took him, running with him on a transportable cot. She frowned, looking at the blood on your cloak and then watching medics run all over the place. “The-the men need me-- I-I should--” “Y/n, they will be fine without you.” She said softly, putting a soothing hand on your shoulder. “His face... I can’t stop thinking of his face when he was shot.” you whispered. “Y/n...” “He looked like he had seen death.” you said softly. Arwen sat you down on a bench, kneeling in front of you. “I can’t lose him Arwen-- not when he doesn’t know..” You whimpered. “Know what dear?” she asked. “That I...” you put your face in your hands and Arwen wrapped her arms around you. "What-what I've done... What I've sacrificed..." You muttered in your hands, tears falling. "What I feel." You whimpered. Arwen pulled you to her, resting her head on yours as you sobbed.

Hours went by as the soldiers returned. There was a clear victor as your brothers both found you asleep on the bench, your cloak as a blanket with your head resting on Arwen’s lap. “How is he?” Elladan asked. “It doesn’t look good.” She whispered. “He’s been unconscious for a while, they’re not sure he’ll make it through the night.” She explained. Elrohir caressed your head, closing his eyes. “She will kill herself thinking about this...” He muttered. Arwen knew that those words could be more literal now that you gave up your immortality. She and Elrond were the only ones who knew. You were exhausted when you came with Aragorn which was already a horrible sign. Elves do not feel exhaustion. If we’re being honest, they don’t need sleep and usually use it as a tool for foresight. It was most likely that your brothers assumed you were seeking answers through sleep. Arwen knew better though. You were already hurting from a broken heart.

“How are the soldiers?” Elrond asked, walking over. “They’re fine. A few injured, none dead thanks to her warning...” Elrohir assured. “And Aragorn?” He asked Arwen. She looked at you and then Elrond. “It... Does not look good.” she said. “How long has she been like this?” Elrond asked. “Two hours.” she admitted. Elrond hated seeing you in this pain, seeing you heartbroken. “...Fenrald!” He called. An elven man ran over. “Yes sire?” He asked. “Send for Legolas.” Elrond said. The man nodded, running off. “Why Legolas?” Elladan asked. “She needs her friend.” Elrond said softly, looking at your tear stained sleeping face.

More hours passed, Legolas arriving. He found you still asleep on the bench. Arwen had left you there, knowing damn well you wouldn’t move from the closest available location to Aragorn. Legolas kneeled, tapping you gently. Your eyes slowly opened and you leaned up. “Legolas?” You asked. “Your father said you needed me.” He said. You hugged his neck and something just... It broke you. Legolas held you close, rubbing your back in a soothing manner. “I-I failed him Legolas-- If he dies I--” “Y/n, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Legolas said. “I-If I hadn’t been so persistent to-to come back, he would be fine” You whimpered. “and how many soldiers would’ve died had you not come back to warn them?” He asked. You nodded sadly, understanding he was right. “I still failed him.” you said. “No, you didn’t--” “My one job when I am with him is to keep him safe, I failed him.” You said. Legolas knew there was no fighting you on this.

“Have you eaten?” He asked. You shook your head. “Drank anything?” He asked. Again, you shook your head. “How much of a struggle are you going to put up if I move you?” Legolas asked. “A very large one.” you replied, wiping your eyes. Legolas sighed but nodded. “I’ll get us some food.” He said, walking away. You got up, noticing the open door. You walked through, seeing him. He was unconscious, his face so peaceful, his breaths barely audible. You pulled up a chair next to his bed, holding his hand. It was calloused, very rough but you didn’t mind. In fact you found comfort with it. 

“ Please Aragorn. Termáre- as me, termáre- coile. (Please Aragorn... Stay with me, stay alive)” You whispered. “ Ni pole-'t lose tye. Vamme sí.(I cannot lost you. Not now.)” You sobbed. 

Please. Stay with me.

Please.

[remmyswritings]

Knight in a Flower Crown// theodore “teddy” nott x reader

Hello my Beautiful Puffs! Here is my third request for today!!!! Thank you @peeves-a-legend​ for sharing this idea with me, I LOVED WRITING IT AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT!

tag list: @curious-curios​, @summer-writes​, @willowbleedsonpaper​, @strawberriesonsummer​, @jenniweaslee​, @cherrycolakxsses​, @peeves-a-legend​, @booksmusicteaandanimals​, @heart-of-tempered-steel​

*Not my Pic, found on Unsplash*

There were times like these when Theo was alone that he wondered why he made the trek from his common room to the library. It’s not that Theo didn’t like his alone time, if anything he loved it, but since he was rather quiet in comparison to his friends he always had to deal with people who messed with him just because he was Draco’s friend. Which is how he ended up in his current situation, being surrounded by some rather bulky seventh years who decided to “teach him a lesson” just knowing Draco. He never liked dealing with people like this when he was with his friends, but he hated it even more when he was alone, because Theo never really knew how to get out of these types of situations. It’s not that he wasn’t brave, he was just calculating in his actions and it’s hard to calculate when you have three extremely large seventh years backing you into a corner (quite literally). Theo honestly thought that he’d have to go straight to the Hospital Wing once they were done with him… 

That’s when he heard it, “Oi! What do you assholes think you’re doing?”

It seemed that whoever spoke called the attention of not only Theo, but his bullies. And when they all turned, they only saw a rather short Hufflepuff who had a flower crown around her head. This girl looked like she couldn’t even hurt a fly, yet for some reason she decided to speak up.

“We’re just messing with this snake, Puff!” The main boy called out, “Just stay out of your business.”

She stared up at the main boy and stomped over there, “No! If anything, the fact that you are messing with him MAKES it my business.”

“You do realize he’s one of Draco Malfoy’s lackeys right?” A wand was pointed at Theo’s face.

She walked right up to the boys and placed herself between the bullies and Theo, anger radiating off her in waves. She got to the point where she practically started to growl, “I. DON’T. FUCKING. CARE. Now either you leave him alone or I make you.”

“Please, what could you possibly do to us?” One of the other bullies laughed.

In response, Y/N grabbed the main one by his tie and pulled it down harshly and punched him right in the throat. Then to make the pain even worse, she grabbed him by the shoulders and kneed him right where the sun does not shine. The boy gasped for air as his knees collapsed from the pain. None of them had realized what she had done until he was on the ground. 

“Now why don’t you boys,” Y/N motioned to the ones who were still standing, “help your friend here get to the Hospital Wing. And if I ever find out that you mess with Theo, or any other Slytherin for that matter… including Draco Malfoy… I will personally make your life a living hell until you graduate.”

The two boys just nodded their head in fear and grabbed their leader by the shoulders and dragged him to the Hospital Wing, practically running as they did so. When they turned the corner and were officially out of sight, Theo could see the tension practically disappear from Y/N’s shoulders.

She turned, her eyes no longer hardened with anger, and her body appearing softer as did her voice, “Are you okay?”

All Theo could do was nod, still trying to process what had occurred in front of him. 

Y/N merely continued to watch him, then she reached out and placed her hand on his face, “Do you want to come with me to the kitchens? We can get some tea and chocolate, if you’d like.”

Theo grabbed the hand that was resting on his face and intertwined his fingers with hers. Then he stepped out of the corner in which he stood and pulled her arm slightly as if saying “Let’s go.” Y/N started off slowly until her and Theo found a comfortable pace, their hands still intertwined. When they got to the kitchen, she made sure to use her other hand so as to not let go and even after they found themselves sitting in front of the fire, drinking their hot chocolates, she still wouldn’t let go. Occasionally, Theo would squeeze her hand as if to confirm that the whole situation was real, that this rather beautiful and short Hufflepuff had defended him against some bullies and then watched over him carefully, and every time he did, she would squeeze his hand in return. At some point though, they had to face reality and quite literally at that.

It seems as though the boys had at some point told Madam Pomfrey only bits of what happened. Of course in doing so they had made it seem like Y/N had attacked them for no reason, yet both Madam Pomfrey and Prof. Sprout knew Y/N rather well and they knew that if she did hurt those boys it was because they had done something that she could not stand.

Theo didn’t want his time with Y/N to come to an end, but it did.

“Hello Prof. Sprout,” Y/N looked up at the teacher who had suddenly entered the kitchen, “I take it the boy in the Hospital Wing has started talking.”

Prof. Sprout looked at the scene in front of her, two students sitting together drinking hot chocolate as they held hands, and shook her hand, “Y/N… you know how I feel about physical violence.”

Y/N ducked her head bashfully, “I know… it’s just- well,” she looked to Theo and silently asked for his permission to tell Prof. Sprout what occurred, and when he granted it she continued, “Those boys actually had Theo backed into a corner and decided that just because he was friends with Draco Malfoy he deserved to be taught a lesson. I mean, Prof. those are the type of boys who ONLY react to violence… nothing else.”

“You do know I’m going to have to dock house points… and give you a detention,” Y/N nodded her head at the statement, accepting it. 

Theo on the other hand, did not, “Prof. You can’t possibly do that!”

Y/N and Prof. Sprout looked at Theo in astonishment, neither expecting him to react that way, “And why do you say that Mr. Nott?”

“Because, quite frankly I think if it wasn’t for Y/N I’d be the one in the Hospital Wing right now and looking a lot worse than the guy Y/N left there,” Theo couldn’t stop himself from saying that. There was something about seeing Y/N get in trouble for merely defending him that he couldn’t stand.

Prof. Sprout sighed, “Clearly you aren’t going to be okay with Miss Y/L/N getting detention… okay then, well I’ll be honest the boys in the hospital wing didn’t exactly know who you were, Y/N, so the only thing I can do is take away house points. For physical violence I’ll take away 20 points, but I’m giving you 30 points for going out of your way to help a fellow schoolmate even though he was not in your house.”

“Thank you Prof. Sprout,” Theo softly said. She merely nodded in return.

Prof. Sprout winked at the two and then left the kitchen, acting as if she didn’t even run into them in the first place. Theo and Y/N then returned to the position they were in before she walked in. They took turns glancing up at one another and squeezing each other’s hand. 

At some point, Theo decided to say something again, “You know you are like my knight in a flower crown.”

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle, “Isn’t it meant to be knight in shining armor.”

“Ya,” Theo nodded and then brought his free hand up to rub the back of his neck, “but you aren’t wearing a shining armor, you’re wearing a flower crown.”

Y/N laughed in return, “I guess you are right. Then that makes you the prince in distress.”

“I guess it does,” Theo smiled at her. 

They continued on like that, smiling at one another until the house elves finally kicked them out of the kitchens forcing them to go back to their common rooms alone.

Y/N turned and watched Theo walk down the corridor, “Good night my prince.”   

[soyeahitsmiddleearth]

Return Her pt. 1

The Company (and friends) x Reader

Not being from Middle Earth has brought you some amazing moments, but this should’ve been expected.

You knew going into Mirkwood after Gandalf’s warnings was a horrible idea, but for some reason you didn’t think to stay behind. 

First everyone went nuts, yourself included (you could barely remember your own name at some points, it was ridiculous). Then there were the spiders, thankfully you got to avoid being webbed up by those disgusting arachnids but you got lost on your way to help.

By some luck you found everyone while they were attempting to leave their confines of the webbing, but then the spiders came back so your luck didn’t feel so good anymore. 

You guys kill a bunch, Kili gets separated… oh, and there is also the elves who are speaking in their own tongue.

The blond elf who appeared to be the leader of this merry group of losers was talking about one of the swords you all acquired after everyone was searched (the only thing they found on you was a small weapon and your backpack from home, also a smack to the hand that was frisking you) when he noticed you. 

The male elf mouthing off to Thorin stops his little liar thief speech abruptly though when his eyes fall on you and your strange clothes and weird colorful backpack held by the elf who searched you.

“You. Come here.“ 

Uh oh.

Simply staring at him dumbly for a few moments, you turn your head from side to side and then point at yourself. “M-Me?”

He nods his head once, annoyance and a trace of amusement showing on his face. You twiddle your thumbs together and shrug your shoulders, taking a step forward only for a large hand to pull you back, “What do you want with her, pointy eared freak!” Hisses Dwalin next to you

The elf says nothing and continues to stare you down. 

Everyone is looking between the two of you at this point, and you begin to feel that all to familiar mixture of anxiousness and awkwardness creeping up on you. “Um… I’d rather not…”

He still stares, as if he’s looking into your very soul. “I will not repeat myself.” Now he just looks annoyed. 

You huff indignantly and shake Dwalin’s hand off your shoulder, “Fine! Whatever.”

You shuffle over awkwardly, ignoring the protesting of some of the others as you go to stand next to Thorin and in front of him.

His intense blue eyes drill holes into you as he sizes you up, “An odd human girl with 13 dwarves. Clothes I’ve never seen before and a bag that is otherworldly. Interesting.” You do your best to hold his gaze, keeping your face as blank as possible.

“That isn’t any of your concern.” Thorin states next to you, but the elf still doesn’t turn his leer from you.

So what do you do?

What you do best. 

“Is that a dagger in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” Your expression doesn’t change as you say this, face remaining neutral as he falters.

Ding ding, Y/N 1, this guy 0.

“Excuse me?” He looks to be shocked by what you say, but you only shrug your shoulders as some of the others behind you laugh. 

But your witty victory is short lived because now everyone is being hauled off to some elf kingdom where you’re sure Santa must live.

When you go to rejoin the others though, the blond elf puts a hand on your shoulder and states in a demanding tone, “You stay with me.”

Thorin turns quickly upon hearing that, “Leave her be, elf! She is one of us, and she will remain by our sides.” Some of the others shout their agreement. 

The elf doesn’t listen. 

And thats how you end up trailing behind the tall elf right in front of you while some of the others (Thorin, Fili, Dwalin, some others) look back to make sure you’re still there from time to time.

It warms your little ole heart! If only you weren’t all being led to imprisonment that is.

When the elf palace (you aren’t quite sure what else to call it) comes into view, it takes your breath away. Yeah, these guys are kinda assholes, but the architecture is astounding! 

You couldn’t keep the awe from showing on your face, and when the elf glances back at you he chuckles. “Never seen an elvish structure before?”

You saw Rivendell which was also lovely, but they’re both beautiful in their own ways you suppose.

Yeah this guy is the enemy, but you just can’t keep yourself from mumbling how stunning it all is. He laughs again, seemingly a bit more friendly towards you than your dwarven companions, and continued on his way. 

Upon entering the structure, you find that the outside is not nearly as awe-inspiring as the inside though.

The twisting trees and twinkling lights inside mesmerize you. It’s so grand, you almost forget that these elves are basically abducting you from your company by keeping you separated so far from them.

Your eyes fall upon the red-headed elf who helped out Kili, and your mouth runs before you can stop it. “Woah, shes freaking gorgeous." 

At your sudden speech the blond male elf guy looks down at you with confusion, his eyebrows knitted together. "What?" 

"Er, your friend over there is really pretty.” You restate, looking away as a flush darkens your face. 

He doesn’t get a chance to say anything else before said she-eld falls into step with you and the blond.

She says something in that Elvish language of theirs and looks down at you, and once again you speak before thinking. 

“Excuse me, do you have a map? Because I’m afraid I’ve gotten lost in your eyes.” It’s cheesy where you’re from, but here you’re a damn poetic genius. 

Her face tints red at your words and she looks up at the blond guy briefly before looking at you again, “I-I’m sorry?" 

"Oh, forgive me that was so forward. I just can’t help myself around someone so lovely.” Yeah, you’re laying it on thick, and it seems to be working in your favor pretty well cause she’s blushing and- oh, is that flattery you see?

“I don’t think I’ve ever been addressed in such a way…” She states breathlessly, looking at Mr. Blond again. 

“How is that possible? My dear you have got to be the most beautiful-" 

"Y/N!” Thorin states sharply, looking at you completely baffled (and he’s not the only one).

A pout comes to your face at the one word scolding, but you get the hint. “Man… Freaking Thorin…" 

You look straight ahead and ignore the glares and confusion from your friends, crossing your arms over your chest as you continue to walk along silently. 

"What a cute little thing.” She comments after a moment of observing your sulky form, reaching down to ruffle your hair. And, embarrassingly enough, you find yourself leaning into her touch slightly.

Hell yeah, this bitch is in. Maybe too much…

Yeah she actually is drop dead gorgeous, but you’ve gotta get these fools trust so you can crush them later. It’s essential to your 45 step escape plan. 

“Me?” You ask, actually feeling a bit nervous to be getting as good as you gave. “C-Cute?" 

There’s no time to answer verbally, because suddenly they split the group into Thorin, and everyone else, but you can see from their faces that it was meant to be taken seriously. You remain standing with the elves, a bit shy and confused as to why you haven’t been led to the others yet. 

Some of them give you looks of concern, but you only flash bright smiles each time you make eye contact with someone. You can tell a few of them are annoyed with your lack of fear for the situation, but you hold onto the hope that Thorin will use his brain.

You break away from the elves and begin to follow after where the majority of the group is headed, but a firm hand landing on your shoulder stops you in place.

Glancing up at the blond elf, he only shakes his head, "You will go with him”, he nods his head over to Thorin.

The confusion shows clearly on your face, but you listen regardless and change your course as you join the leader of the group. 

When you step up beside him, he looks at you with deep set confusion, “Why are you not with the others?" 

All you do is shrug in response. 

And then the two of you are being brought before the king.

At least that’s what the blond elf said because all you see is a woman on a chair- 

Oh, wait. No, no, that is the King. 

Turns out, you’re quite the jokester because you make yourself laugh with this line of thinking which earns you a sharp look from Thorin and two pairs of confused elf eyes on you.

You clamp your mouth shut and shrug your shoulders again, and then you and Thorin are being left with the elf king.

When he gets up from his chair you’re shocked by how tall he is. Even the other elf who was bossing you around doesn’t reach the height that he does. 

When he begins to talk to Thorin about things you care little for, your gaze wanders away to view the lovely scene before you. The structure of this place is simply amazing. There is nothing like this from your home, all you had were huge neighborhoods, strip malls, and google images that provided you with things not even half as pretty as this. 

While you gaze around someone clears their throat which effectively breaks you out of your little trance.

You turn your attention back towards Thorin and the large (and very pretty) elf quee-king.

Much to your dismay they’re both staring at you expectantly.

You blink your eyes a few times and stare dumbly as you rack your brain for any clue as to what just occurred, but you only draw a blank. "Um… ‘sup?” Thats all you could come up with? Really? 

You mentally berate yourself for not paying attention, but it only seems to amuse the blond guy. “Interesting. You are not from here, are you?” He asks curiously. Thorin’s expression is sharp, and your eyes lock on him for a moment because you don’t know how much to reveal.

He shakes his head. 

“Well obviously not. I’m a human. Have you not seen my ears? Or my height? Or anything?” Your sarcasm earns a snort of amusement from Thorin, but it seems that the king only found your sarcasm funny as well.

“You know what I mean. And the look you two shared only answers my question for me.”

You release a long and over dramatic sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. “Well.. It’s not your business where I’m from. So stop being lame and let us leave." 

He stopped listening though and turned back to Thorin, "Where did you find such a person? Because I can most definitely tell that she is not from Middle Earth.”

Thorin only turns his head away and responds to something else probably stated while you were busy. He starts ranting about abandonment and how he wasn’t helped. He yells something in one of their languages, and then Thranduil is all up in his face.

“Do not talk to me of dragon fire! I know… its wrath and ruin.” The king makes a weird face and you find yourself become uncomfortable as his face warps and reveals horribly scarred skin.

“I have faced… the great serpents of the North.” He then steps back and stops leaning over as his skin quickly returns to normal. “I warned your grandfather of what his greed would summon. But he would not listen. You are just like him.”

Two guards seize him suddenly and you protest loudly, “Hey! Leave him alone!” You only get ignored.

“Stay here if you will… and rot.” They start dragging him down the stairs and you move to follow after, but the booming voice of King Thranduil stops you. “Not you. You stay where you are." 

Thorin yells at him in his tongue, then yells out in an outrage, "She comes with me!” He only gets hauled further away as you look between him and the blond elf who is standing at the steps to his throne.

You take a few steps forward towards where Thorin is being dragged off to, but your arm is grabbed and yanked back towards him harshly. 

The king under the mountain continues to rage on until he disappears out of your sight, the hand on your arm not releasing you even after he is gone. 

You turn a glare up at the king and snatch your arm away, “What do you want? I have nothing to say to you!”

He only smooths his robes back down and steps away. "You and I have much to discuss…“ 

Thorin regains his composure long before he reaches the dungeon down below, not wanting to alert his company of his obvious distress. Though he does brood more than usual and the constant scowl on his features immediately worries those looking upon him. 

"Where’s Y/N?” Is the first thing he hears after he’s shoved into his own cell. He looks over towards the area the question came from and sees Kili standing there with his hands on the bars. 

“That pointy eared pixie wouldn’t let her come here with me.”

Someone exclaims their anger loudly in a cell not far from his, but he only continues. “That elvish garbage refused to let her come with me, and when she tried to follow he grabbed her arm as if he had any right-!” He cuts himself off and sits down, hands clenched into fists as he thinks about it.

The others yell out their own anger at that, and then Ori speaks up softly, “What does he want with ‘er? She’s only a human…" 

Balin speaks up next, "Does he want to know about where she’s from…? Perhaps that be the reason right there! She speaks oddly and her clothes are suspicious”

Nobody wanted to even think about that. If you refused to give them the answers they wanted, what would they do? 

Everyone is undoubtedly sharing the same dark and worrying thoughts. 

“Mahal…" 

They all understand the feeling.

[timeforelfnonsense]

Unconventional

Astarion x Dafni || G || Previous Story Chronologically (not necessary but might fill in some gaps) || Ao3 || Sunshine & Starlight: My on going bg3 series  

The low fire crackled and popped as it consumed more of its kindling into ash. Dafni idly ran her finger along the chipped rim of the ceramic mug clasped firmly in her hand. She prodded the slice of venison on her plate with her two-pronged fork, translucent red juices trickling out from the small puncture. A frown tugged at her mouth, as her mother’s voice rang in her ears.

Don’t play with your food dear, it’s impolite.

Dafni sighed, popping a portion of the meat into her mouth. She found the rich, earthy taste of deer flesh pleasant enough. There was a gameyness to wild-caught meat she’d missed in the city. It lent itself well to the simplicity of rosemary and salt Gale had prepared it in.

“This is very good Gale,” she said between bites, “Deer can be a difficult meat.”

The wizard grinned bowing his head ever so slightly in thanks, “That’s kind of you, Dafni. I’ve always enjoyed cooking! Though, I have to admit my skills are more suited for a kitchen than a campfire.”

Dafni rather liked Gale. He was the sort of man who might have visited her mother’s tower seeking knowledge. If she closed her eyes she could picture him on the steps of Laurel chatting with Leto and Theia as the younger of Thesmia’s daughter hid away in an alcove tittering and blushing like little roses over his handsome face and magical skill. Polymnia in particular would have been taken with Gale. The lovely alseid had a soft spot for human men. Especially those with a quick wit and keen mind. Perhaps she’d introduce them when this was all over?

As the thought crossed her mind, it occurred to Dafni that Gale might not be on the market. She hadn’t thought to ask him- or any of her new friends for that matter if they had anyone who might be consumed with lovelorn worry by their disappearances.

Normally the romantic entanglements of those around here were among her favorite topics of discussion. She had always enjoyed listening to the trials and joys of her patients’ courtships in the city. When she’d lived among her own people, the wood elves too for that matter- love and sex had been discussed free and open. She’d found that city folk were, all too often, needlessly sheepish when it came to such topics.

“So, do you have loves waiting for you once this is all over?” Astarion asked in an airy, casual voice. A mirthful glimmer in his red eyes as he tossed his untouched serving of venison to Scratch. Dafni wondered if perhaps her own thoughts had bled into his head via their tadpoles or if Astarion was simply as curious as she was.

“You know what -” Gale responded, his brows stitching, “that is not the easiest of questions for me to answer.”

Drat!

So much for setting him up with Poly.

“You mean just waiting, like a love-sick puppy?” Shadowheart let out a judgmental huff, her pale gray-green eyes rolling as she spoke, “Short-term amusements are much less hassle. Do you have someone waiting for you in Baldur’s Gate, Astarion? A sweetheart perhaps?”

Dafni’s hands went clammy the moment Shadowheart’s words fell from her lips. Dafni had the unfortunate habit of finding herself enraptured with all sorts of eye-catching creatures, and mysterious, cheeky Astarion’s almost kiss had cast firmly him in the role of the leading lord in her girlish daydreams.

Bracing herself for what felt like an inevitable bruise- not only to her ego but her tender heart, she risked a quick peek at him through the little plume of steam forming above her cup. His long legs were casually outstretched, his elbow propped on the fallen tree behind him as if he were draped across a fine chaise lounge rather than earth and vegetation. He ran his hand through that perfect coif of soft, ivory curls. The cool, silvery light of the moon almost shimmered across his fair complexion. He had truly been blessed with the aloof, dreamy, beauty of Sehanine Moonbow. An incandescent majesty demanding admiration and awe.

“Not one in particular.” Astarion said with a coy shrug of his shoulders, “The city is a veritable feast of sweethearts.”

Dafni hadn’t realized she had been holding her breath until the lungs full of relief came whooshing out of her. While she was, in part, pleased to know there was no one of romantic significance in his life for her to contend with, his response had still left her a bit disheartened.

If he took such little issue with rake-ish behavior, why pull away from her kiss?

Dafni worried the fraying edge of her sleeve as she nibbled her lower lip. She felt a familiar tenderness in her chest. The same ache she’d felt as she watched each of her sisters be asked for dances of turns about the garden by the lords and ladies of the Summer Court during countless Seelie Soirées. Despite her outgoing nature and sunny disposition, those around her had always seemed determined to exile her to wallflowerdome.

“You must be eager to get back then. Slimmer pickings out in this wilderness.”

I think the pickings are just fine, thank you very much!

Dafni’s nose crinkled, a sour, resentful glare taking form across her face. She  knew  Shadowheart’s comment wasn’t intended as a dig but it felt like one nonetheless.

She’d always felt babyish compared to her beautiful older sisters. They were the kind of poised and lovely women folk expected the elves and nymphs of Faerie to be. Tall, slender ladies with a wild fey beauty that was nearly impossible to resist. In contrast, Dafni was petite in stature and plump in shape. She’d stopped aging physically sometime in her early 20s leaving her heart-shaped face with a trimming of eternal baby fat.

While she’d come into her own by no small measure whilst living among the wandering wood elves of Lylarth Forest. She could tease and tempt with the best of them and she’d had her share of dalliances in the last half-century. Even so, the ghost of the girl, sat pouting in the corner while her lovelier, more worldly sisters made merry lingered.

“How about you, dear?” Astarion asked tilting his gaze towards Dafni’s sulky figure, “Is there anyone waiting for you back in the city?”  

“Not really, I’d only been in the city for a few months,” Dafni explained. She kept her eyes fixed far away in hopes he wouldn’t see the fluster looming in them. “I don’t know many people in Baldur’s Gate aside from those who frequent my clinic and it wouldn’t be appropriate to pursue any of them. I think the people in my neighborhood found me a bit too… Unconventional for their tastes at any rate.” She tried her best not to sound bitter but there was still a bite to her words. While she’d been practically invisible to her fancies in the feywilds, in Baldur’s Gate she stuck out like a sore thumb. Most of the inhabitants of the lower city had never met a wood elf let alone an eladrin. They simply didn’t know what to make of her otherworldly countenance. Moreover, her own ineptitude when it came to understanding customs and niceties outside of the wilds had solidified her reputation as an eccentric outsider.

“To the hells with being conventional, darling.” Astarion scoffed, “Conventional is just a word tedious, uninteresting people use to justify their own mediocrity.”

His voice had an indignant edge to it. As if he was offended that the rabble of Eastway hadn’t been falling at her feet every time she crossed over her threshold. Dafni tried to fight the rush of heat that crept across the bridge of her nose and full cheeks. It felt good to be seen by someone so dazzling. And Gods, It was endearing to see him so ruffled on her behalf. If only he’d been at all those dreadful parties.

Perhaps he might have asked her for a dance...

Stop that! He’s only being polite, Dafni!  She scolded herself,  Don’t do this! He just admitted to being a heartbreaker, you silly, starry-eyed, ninny!

She tried to banish the cacophonous thumping in her chest. To herd the whimsical yearning into submission. It was no use. With every passing moment, she felt her attraction to him solidify into a full-on fancy. With luck, the feelings would fade in time, as they had with countless conquests before him. Their time together was far from over, so she’d just have to pray disinterest would take hold before she did something  too  embarrassing in an attempt to win him over.

“I’m inclined to echo that sentiment.” Gale’s voice felt like mercy. He had spared her from having to stammer out a reply of her own, “I think you’d be hard-pressed to label any of our number as conventional and I’d wager our chances of surviving these parasites are better for it.”

Gale was right, as usual. Dafni cast a glance across the faces of her new friends. Gale’s intelligence, Criella’s ingenuity, Wyll’s courage, Shaowheart’s wit, Lae’zel’s metal, Astarion’s charm. Each of them outlandish and remarkable in their own way. Their quirks and eccentricities made them the people they were. Despite the squabbling, despite the clashing personalities, she was glad to have them.

[saelwen]

Pure Blood

Maedhros x Oc

Chapter One

Summary:  We all born with white blood which symbolizes our pure soul. As we grow up, our blood can change to red and become darker if we begun doing cruel things. The darker the blood, the cruel you are. Mine’s occur to be pure white but will continue to be after i meet my soulmate?

Warning: None

Words: 2k

A/n: This idea come from a wonderful anon. I want to thank him/her for let me use this idea! Also the moodboard is by me!

Masterlist

When I was a little girl, my mother used to tell me tales about ancient folk. The fairest and graceful of all Eru's children, the elves. She told me about the war and all the death that three simple jewels created. The betrayal and destruction between kin. And the love between different races.

I was always fascinated by these tales, always asking her for more. She would sit me on her lap and braid my ink-black hair while she told me the stories. Father didn't like much that mother told me those types of stories, saying that they would fill my little pretty head with wrong ideas and that would bring me a life full of sin.

We lived on a small cottage deep in the woods. The nearest town is a six hours ride away from my house which was good since I don't like obnoxious noises of the town.

Father work on our little farm, taking care of the animals and the garden. I sometimes help him with milking the cows and harvesting vegetables and fruits which he would sell on the town market.

Mother is a seamstress. She makes the most beautiful gowns that i ever seen. You could see the noble maidens wearing her gowns on the most fancy feast in all Middle-Earth. She have a shop in the town but recently she is working more on her atelier at home. I asked her why but she only shrugged her shoulders and answered "Why not".

My parents were soulmates which in nowadays were really rare. People don't belive in love and soulmates anymore, making the world dull and lifeless. But i witness they love and passion for each other. Hell, I'm the fruit of they undying love.

I use to daydream about the day me and my soulmate will meet. Fantasying about how they will look or they personality. I'm a sucker for romances so i spend most of my late nights reading novels in my comfy chair by the window.

"Rose! Come here, please!" the warm voice of mother grabbed my attention from the book in my small hands.

"I'm coming, Mother!" i yelled back while putting the book back in the shelf. I look in the mirror beside the bedroom door, adjusting my light green gown and try to tame my curly black hair into a low ponytail. I had the palest skin that anyone have ever seen. Father calls me his little snow flake since my skin remind him of the cold snow. My eyes were the color the meadow grass in summer time.

I walk out of my bedroom and go downstairs to the kitchen where i find mother cooking dinner by the small fireplace. Her black hair was pulled into a braid with silver hairs coming out from the darker ones. She looks over her shoulder and smiles gently.

"There you are, lady! Do you mind cutting some bread for dinner, sweety?" she asked as she return her attention back to the pot in the fire. I nod and grab the bread knife and a loaf of fresh bread. I start cutting the bread as mother begins humming a old song. I join her with my humming and start swaing my hips slowly, soon follow by mother, who start spinning gracefully through the kitchen.

Our laughter rings through the small kitchen as we joke around, singing tavern songs and dancing together. As we dance together, I didn't notice the front door open and father walk in.

He coughs and look at us with his hairy brow lifted, trying to hide a smile on his lips but failing miserably,

"Well what do we have here?" his rough voice sounded through the house, making mother's green eyes bright like two little starts.

"My love!" she said as he embrace her gently, kissing her lips softly. "I've missed you."

He next pulls me into a bear hug, kissing my forehead gently. "I've missed you both!" he said with a big smile.

"How was the market today, Father?" i asked as i return back to the bread, cutting it slowly.

He sighs and sit at the table, rubbing his rough hands against his face. "Not good, little snow flake." he said through his hands. Mother looks to him with worry eyes as she returns back to the pot. "There's new farmers in the market selling better vegetables and fruits than mine....People are favoring them...."

I nod slowly and look to him, seeing the dark circles under his brown eyes. He have been working so hard on the farm and the market that he almost don't have time to rest or have some alone time with mother so i thought on a brilliant idea.

"Tomorrow i can go to the market and you can stay here with mom, Dad." he frowns at my words and shook his head.

"No, little snow flake. I don't want you go alone to that town full of sins." he growls tirely, resting his back against the chair's back. I roll my eyes and smile gently.

"You don't have to worry about me, Dad. I'm a big girl now! I can defend myself." i said with a grin, knowing full well that he knows I'm talking the truth since he taught me some fighting moves when i was a child.

He sighs and nod, smirking up to mom as she giggles. "Very well then... Tomorrow you shall go to the market BUT if you notice any funny business, you come right home. Okay?" i nod excited and gave a kiss on his cheek.

"Yes, Dad!" i said as i finished cutting the bread. I pose the knife on the counter but as i do that, i slice my finger on the sharp blade. A hiss fell from my lips as i quickly look down to my finger, seeing pure white blood oozing out from the wound.

"Are you okay, Rose?" mom said while she grab a wet cloth. She grabs my hand and look carefully to the wound, a relief sigh escaping from her lips. "Still pure as the day you were born, huh? I'm glad." she murmured as she clean my wound.

We all born with white blood which symbolizes our pure soul. As we grow up, our blood can change to red and become darker if we begun doing cruel things. The darker the blood, the cruel you are.

Mine's is still pure white which can be pretty rare since I'm 22. By now, it could be a little darker just for a little lie or for stealing something but since I've never done any of those things, I'm pure as the day i was born.

"There! All done!" Mom said with a warm smile. She grabbed the pot from the fireplace and put it on the table while dad took out our bowls and spoons. I put the bread on a basket and put it on the table.

We sat and start eating dinner, listening to dad's stories from the market and laughing at his jokes.

~~~~~~

"Balmoral Town" his voice was rough and hard, making the small folk of the night look at tall elf in surprise. "Let's hope i don't get trouble in here." Maedhros murmured as he walk through the small town.

He enters on the busy tavern, removing his hood from his head, letting his silky red hair fall down his back. He walks to the bar's counter and call the servant.

"What can i get you, elf?" the old man with red face and stains of soup and beer on his white shirt, asked. His hair was dirty blond and looked like hay. There was a big nasty scar on his cheek that come from the corner of his mouth to his ear.

"Do you have a empty room?" Maedhros asked while he looked to his surroundings, notice most of the people in there was drunk.

The old man turn back, grabbing a rusty key and then turn to him, throwing the key to the counter. "Upstairs on the left." he said roughly.

Maedhros thank the old man and go upstairs, following the man's instructions. He enter the small room, having to bend down a little so he don't with his head on the ceiling, and sits with a tire sigh on the bed.

He took his boots off and throw them to the corner of them room, along with his pack and sword. Then, he lies down and groans in pleasure as he feels the soft mattress hugging his back.

His eyes begun feeling heavy and so his body. Taking a deep breath, he let his body and mind relax, letting sleep take over him.

"Tomorrow is a new day." he mumbled as his eyes fluttered shut.

Hey Guys!!! Here the first chapter of Pure Blood!!! I hope you enjoy its as much i did writing it! Feel free to comment and tell me what you think!

XOXO

[gayregis]

in voice of reason do you think Geralt was justified in calling Yennefer “too possessive”? what did you think of nennekes response?

ok im splitting this into two parts for the two questions!!

PART ONE: do you think Geralt was justified in calling Yennefer “too possessive”?

well, i think that sapkowski didn’t really have the lore of every single detail down-pat yet. he changes much later on - for example, in a question of price, geralt is referred to as a child surprise, but in the sword of destiny in something more, geralt clarifies to calanthe that mousesack got his facts wrong... this is sapkowski is behind the scenes retconning it.

other things also are changed, like i think it’s weird how vereena is just referred to as vereena when mr emiel regis rohellec terzieff godefroy pops up later in baptism of fire and says his name is in accordance with vampire tradition, and also vereena can turn into a bat and fly even though it’s midday (iirc... the time isn’t specified, but it’s assumedly midday?) when regis states that he can only turn into a bat and fly during the full moon, and not before midnight at that. of course vampires are such an irrelevant little detail, a footnote in the actual story, but it’s something to keep in mind that sometimes sapkowski loses consistency in his own lore inbetween books. 

i think he also stated that geralt and yennefer spent 6 months together in vengerberg, but this was later changed to a year, and then to four years... so i’m not sure how much he had conceptualized of yennefer as a character and yennefer and geralt’s relationship by this time of writing and publishing the last wish. he might have just had geralt say that yennefer was too posessive because he needed a reason for them to be broken up at this moment.

but for the sake of simplicity, let’s say that this is fully what sapkowski intended to write and convey about yennefer - it’s on the page, after all. firstly, i think that geralt is a whiny pissbaby. he just is. especially at this point in the books. he complains about everything, nothing is ever right, the entire world is out to get him and mock him. so i am inclined to not exactly believe him 100% when he complains about things being too anything, of course he would find everything too anything, he’s so sensitive, he’s geralt of rivia.

i need to analyze what it means to be called “posessive” in a relationship. and i don’t know what the original word used was, perhaps it was something more specific, as is sometimes the case with the translation. does it mean that yennefer didn’t want geralt to be looking at other women, that she wanted him to remain monogamous, and he didn’t want to be monogamous? does it mean that she was controlling of his actions? i think these are kind of both in character, i wouldn’t agree with geralt in calling her “posessive” due to the actual look at yennefer’s character that we get later on, but canonically, yennefer did want monogamy from geralt. and canonically, she did influence his behavior a lot, at least in style of manner and dress, for example she taught him how to eat chicken with a knife and fork and also dresses him for the event on thanedd. i don’t think these are necessarily negative things, it depends on how the level of willingness of geralt to be treated like this, it just depends on if he likes it or not. 

but let’s actually look at instances in which yennefer could be called “posessive” - for me, specific scenes in blood of elves and lady of the lake pop up. the first thing that comes to my mind is that triss betrayed her and used magic on geralt to sleep with him... which, obviously, is dubious consent, which means possibly no consent at all... and so, yes, yennefer has the right to be upset at triss and, depending on the context (it’s vague if geralt consented or not) possible geralt. i don’t think this is her being possessive, saying “geralt belongs to ME,” but rather, why would my best friend and my boyfriend go behind my back to sleep together? it's just one of those things you don’t do, as a best friend. it’s disrespectful. and this tension between yennefer and triss continues throughout the series, the last hostility between them in the series is yennefer threatening to snatch her by her ginger locks if she goes after her man - which i find to be just sort of a catfight sapkowski wrote in, owing to his personal biases and view of how women interact with one another. but also, in context, yennefer has just been through hell to get ciri and geralt back and safe, and triss has already gone after ciri to steal her with the lodge, and since yennefer and geralt are actually sincerely in a commited relationship by this point, i think it’s justified for yennefer to be upset at the thought of triss trying to get geralt to cheat on her again. and also, it’s sort of humorous because of how insanely much yennefer has just been through, but sapkowski allows her to have this sort of petty drama throwaway line, it contrasts with her deep character development that she just received in these last two books, and due to that, it’s funny.

speaking of best friends... the next scene that pops into my head relating to yennefer being “posessive” is when she speaks with dandelion at the beginning of blood of elves. i think a “posessive” lover would be one to try and ruin the relationships that their lover has with other individuals: friendships, family, etc. but in this scene, she’s so nice to dandelion! she’s very respectful, even when she’s hurt. and she tells him she respects him and thanks him for being there for geralt. that’s not posessive, that’s entirely the opposite - accepting that even if you don’t really like your significant other’s friends, that they like their friends, and you have to respect that relationship. yennefer could literally just threaten or kill dandelion if she was posessive and wanted him out of geralt’s life, but instead she is grateful to him for being there for geralt when she couldn’t / in a way that she couldn’t. and, in this same scene, she says that she has gone to kaer morhen as a a guest many times, never uninvited, so that confirms that she also has a good relaitonship with the other witchers of kaer morhen, geralt’s family, and doesn’t try to limit geralt’s interactions with them. she’s quite supportive of geralt’s relationships beyond her.

and finally, let’s go to the end of blood of elves, in the scenes where she becomes a teacher and mother to ciri... in the beginning, she is actually upset because she is being possessive of geralt - she resents ciri because she feels that geralt’s attention has been divided between the two of them, that because geralt has this kid now, he’s forgotten about her... but nenneke rebukes her for this, and then she realizes that that’s an incredibly immature way to behave. and she becomes a better person, she changes from her initial petty behavior and becomes a wonderful, selfless mother to ciri. in the end, she wasn’t possessive at all.

so, i don’t think that yennefer is actually “possessive,” she kind of just wants to be respected as a human being and also as geralt’s lover. geralt, in a little sacrifice, realizes that he hasn’t exactly respected yennefer, because of his own insecurities, he believed that she didn’t really fall so deeply in love with him, and that he couldn’t love her back, but she did, and he did. so his perspective changes in this moment... but of course, the voice of reason occurs way before this, when he is still acting immaturely. yennefer and geralt as characters develop together and sometimes as a result from one another. in the beginning, they’re both incredibly insecure people and that insecurity has made them act immature. but over the course of the series, they learn and grow.

in this moment, i don’t think geralt was justified to call yennefer “posessive,” because over the course of the series we see that she isn’t, but it is in character for him to say so.

PART TWO: what did you think of nennekes response?

nenneke responds to geralt by saying she’s not his mom and he shouldn’t be voicing his relationship complaints to her, and that if he has something to say or give to yennefer, he needs to do it himself.

i like this response, primarily because she urges geralt to act responsibly and maturely. geralt is, as i said, immature at this point in the books, and also is not quite experienced in love and relationships... so he is acting indirectly, almost cowardly - like breaking up over text message, or asking someone else to ask the girl in class if she likes you. it’s just like, do it yourself! have some confidence! but this is the edge to how much geralt respects yennefer and values her... he doesn’t want to do the wrong thing and offend her, so that he does the cowardly thing instead, and ends up offending her after all - i mean, leaving a flower on the nightstand? come on, dude...

geralt NEEDS someone to be the voice of reason and tell him to snap out of it, yennefer is just another person like anyone else, and you need to be direct with her. if you’re sorry, then say sorry! don’t try to give her vague presents to make up for it. that’s not how relationships work.

what i find funny and ironic is that as nenneke urges geralt to act mature and respectably, she tells him she’s not his mother in the same breath - even though this is exactly what a mother does. i think this was intentional on sapkowski’s part, since nenneke is so obviously a mother figure to geralt, having her say “i’m not your mother” aloud is something that needed to be said, because even though he sees her as one and they have this kind of mother-child relationship, she’s not. or, on the other hand, she is, and by her denying it, it’s just meant to be ironic to the audience, who understands that she is geralt’s mother but can never admit that to him.

[wolfandwild]

My Shadowlands Wish List

Now that we’re getting closer and closer to pre-patch and the inevitable launch of the expansion, I thought I’d rattle off a wish list of things I hope we get to see in Shadowlands, largely from a lore/story perspective. (Or rather, my stupid foot was hurting so badly I couldn’t concentrate on writing my fic properly, so I decided to ramble off some not-so-hot takes, honestly they’re pretty mild in the grand scheme of things). I was in the first alpha wave, so I’ve had a pretty good opportunity to play the game as it is thus far, and I did want to make it clear up front that I’m fully aboard the hype train. Shadowlands is looking like a great expansion for a number of different reasons, and while I do have a few areas of concern, on the whole I am currently feeling very positive. Please also note these are just my random, late-night personal musings - your mileage may vary, and that’s a-okay.  Mild Shadowlands spoilers below the cut.

You Get A Customisation! You Get A Customisation! Everybody Gets A Customisation! This one is pretty much a no-brainer. I don’t necessarily think Blizzard need to have absolutely every possible character customisation ready to go before launch, but I’d like them to continue adding further options over time. I move in a couple of different circles in Warcraft - I’m obviously involved in the writing/lore/character aspect of the game, but I’m also GM of a raiding guild and closely follow the gameplay/competitive side of things too - and customisation is one of those few things that gets everyone excited, regardless of their reason for playing the game. I’m looking forward to seeing a much more vibrant, unique and diverse Azeroth come Shadowlands pre-patch. (Mostly irrelevant side story - when Wrathion returned in the Patch 8.3 cinematics, my Twitter and lore Discords were basically going berserk with excitement, meanwhile there’s a hundred very confused dudes in my raiding guild who don’t read quest text being all, “What the hell is a ‘Wrathion’?”. I live in two different worlds, honestly). Another reason I’m excited about customisation (and I’m probably in a very small minority on this one) is because I actually really dislike allied races, and I think it gives Blizzard an option to add more flavour to character creation in the game without always having to cobble together a new race. I honestly think they should have simply gone for sub-race customisation from the beginning, to avoid having to ass-pull allied races out of nowhere. Using customisation over allied races also makes it far simpler to give something to both factions (e.g. high elves), or to add something for one faction without necessarily having to always add something to the other faction to keep things in balance. Giving an extra hairstyle to humans but not orcs generally isn’t going to cause that much of a fuss, but if one faction were given an allied race and the other wasn’t because there wasn’t a logical racial option, there would be a shitstorm of epic proportions. So you end up in a situation where one faction* gets saddled with a really random, sucky allied race just to be ‘fair’. *The Alliance. It’s the Alliance. Leave Britney Arthas Alone Arthas has never been a personal favourite of mine, but I respect that he has a fantastic story, and that he’s a cornerstone of Warcraft lore. His story is both satisfying and complete, and that’s exactly why they should leave him the hell alone. I don’t mind if he’s visited in flashbacks (like the Bastion cinematic), or if we explore how he affected still living characters (e.g. Jaina, Sylvanas, Bolvar), but I think it would be a mistake to try to make him a central character in the expansion. In contrast, someone like Kael’thas is an excellent choice for an additional arc, because his original story was a bit all over the place and there is still plenty of room for his character development. Arthas doesn’t need it, and I don’t think the minute potential gain is worth the risk of retroactively making the rest of his story worse. On a similar note... Warcraft III Was Released Nearly 20 Years Ago, It’s Time to Move On The Warcraft RTS was a landmark series of games, and was obviously without them we wouldn’t have the World of Warcraft. However, I think the future health of Warcraft’s lore depends on the ability of the writers to grow the story outwards and upwards, not to always default back to the same handful of characters for nostalgia’s sake. While characters like Jaina, and Thrall, and Sylvanas are great, they can’t carry the narrative forever. Shadowlands represents a unique opportunity to build up the next generation of characters and to blow the cosmology of the universe wide open. From what I’ve seen on the alpha/beta, Blizzard are definitely taking a step in this direction, and I’m hoping that’s what we get instead of Patch 9.2 - Oh Look, It’s Thrall Again. On an additionally similar note... Sylvanas Is Crazy, And She Needs To Go Down (I don’t actually think she’s crazy, but one should never miss the opportunity for an Avatar reference). One of my complaints about the recent lore developments in Warcraft its that it’s starting to feel a lot less like the World of Warcraft, and more like the Sylvanas of Warcraft. She’s playing 469D chess; she’s behind everything; she’s the sole driving force of the narrative. I don’t think that works in an MMO that’s meant to tell the story of an entire expanded universe. It makes things feel small. And before I get eaten alive, I want to be clear that I don’t dislike Sylvanas as a character - in fact, I think she’s very compelling and on a night when my foot wasn’t killing me so much I’d be happy to get into an argument as to why she’s actually one of the most consistent and well-written characters in the World of Warcraft. I don’t necessarily think she needs to die, either, but I think it’s time for her narrative to come to a close to make room for other characters in the story, and I don’t think Blizzard are going to get a much better opportunity to give her a satisfying ending than in a death-themed expansion. Justice for Tyrande (Or Vengeance, Whatever Uther Wants to Call It) Tyrande got done dirty in Battle for Azeroth, probably more than any other character. I’m not a massive night elf fangirl by any means, but their entire race was basically used as grist for the mill in Sad Orc Dad’s story, with no next to no narrative follow-up besides a cool cinematic that went absolutely nowhere in game. Outside the game, her character then got subjected to the cacophonous misogynistic crowing of the fanbase that occurs whenever a female character dares to be angry in the World of Warcraft. Much like Jaina, she’s decried for being ‘crazy’ or ‘irrational’ for, you know, being pissed that her people and her homeland were wiped out in an act of wildly disproportional aggression. I don’t know about you guys, but that would tend to make me a wee bit testy, but maybe I’m crazy and irrational too. In any case, I want to see her go off in Shadowlands. Fuck ‘em up, girlfriend. You Get One Villain. If You Drop It, I’m Not Buying You Another One I think most people will agree with me that the two weakest expansions (at least from a narrative perspective) were Warlords of Draenor and Battle for Azeroth. There are a few reasons for this, but for me one of the biggest issues was that they were chop-and-change expansions. Both were advertised and started off with narratives and themes that were wildly different from where they finished up. Warlords was part Iron Horde expansion, part Legion expansion; BFA was part faction war expansion, part Old God expansion... and that’s exactly the problem. Both times, I felt like we got two half-done expansions, instead of one single, cohesive narrative experience.  If you look at expansions like Wrath of the Lich King and Legion, both of which were very well received, a lot of their success hinges on their presentation of a consistent narrative with a clear goal for players within the story. The Lich King, for example, was a consistent and very present villain. He menaced you throughout your entire journey, and so his eventual defeat on top of Icecrown Citadel was meaningful and impactful. Defeating N’Zoth, by contrast, felt pretty hollow, as we hadn’t had enough narrative build up to really care about taking him down. Part of the reason I’m excited for Shadowlands is it looks like we’re getting a nice, focused story development that builds up to a logical and satisfying villain in the Jailer. Why Can’t We Be Friends? Look, I bleed blue. I love the Alliance... but the faction war should not continue to be a driving narrative element in the World of Warcraft. I don’t want the factions to be removed, I think they’re a core part of the Warcraft experience and I’d be pretty sad to have to let them go entirely, but the cycle of hating one another then teaming up in an uneasy alliance in order to defeat a bigger bad, only to go back to being at one another’s throats the next day is... tiresome.

Ideally, the war would have ended after Legion - it was the most logical place to do so, and I think it was a big missed opportunity that they ran with Battle for Azeroth immediately afterwards. Unfortunately, I think this means the Alliance is going to just have to forgive and forget, which doesn’t really make a lot sense at this point given everything that happened in BFA, but for the sake of the overall story, it might be a necessary sacrifice. That said... I Am Once Again Asking for Alliance Narrative Agency I know there are a lot of (valid) complaints to be had about the Horde storyline, but the one thing the Horde has always had over the Alliance is that they actually get to drive the narrative forward. The Alliance are pretty much exclusively reactionary, and in a lot of ways are side characters to the main Horde storyline. I’ve made this argument elsewhere, but it honestly wouldn’t be too hard to remove Anduin’s part in Saurfang’s storyline in Battle for Azeroth and have it turn out more or less exactly the same way... which says a lot about the importance of the Alliance in the overall storyline. In short, the Alliance are secondary players at best, and downright irrelevant at worst. One of my biggest hopes for Shadowlands is that we’ll actually get to see some Alliance narrative agency. To be clear, however, this does not mean a simple rehashing of Horde conflicts with a blue coat of paint. Alliance stories are not Horde stories, and nor should they be. Having an Alliance leader turn into a genocidal despot is not the only way to create conflict or agency in the story - there are plenty of opportunities for character growth, development and conflict on the Alliance side without having to have one of our leaders do a heel turn (e.g. Tyrande as the Night Warrior, Anduin dealing with his experience in the Maw, Jaina confronting the fates of people like Kael’thas and Arthas, Taelia meeting her father, etc.), and I really hope we get to see some of those narrative threads come to fruition. I Want to Mount Everything Add a hundred new mounts. Two hundred. A pot plant with googly eyes, the four hundredth Alliance horse, your mum. I’ll ride anything; I don’t even care. (Please note this is the most important opinion I have).

[antiquecompass]

Untamed Winter Fest Day 13: Family

Wherein Lan Xichen experiences his very first Jiang Holiday Extravaganza. (Also on Ao3).

“You’re just--you’re just going to bring him? To Lotus Pier? Just like that? You don’t want to maybe wait until next year? Are you---are you sure he can handle it?”

Jiang Cheng stared at his brother over their lunch table.

Wei Ying rubbed his nose and shrugged. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s not about Xichen. You know I love him, and you with him. You two together. But you also know how your mom is this time of year. You know the Lans don’t celebrate Christmas. Even with their basic knowledge of it, there’s having to dodge all the red bows and garlands and santas in the store and then there’s Lotus Pier at Christmas. It’s a neon animatronic freak show that punches you in the face, steals your pride and your lunch money, and then dropkicks you once more for good measure with the holiday spirit.”

“She’s not that bad,” he said.

His mother was enthusiastic about Christmas, perhaps aggressively so to some degree, but she could be reasoned with--bartered with at the very least. The singing stuffed cats in place of the musical nativity set that played ‘What Child Is This?’ for example. Stuffed animals in place of the actual lambs she was tempted to buy for little Yuan’s first holiday season with them. Mistletoe only placed on the main pathways of the house and not every five feet. She could make compromises when met with better offers or a convincing argument.

Few things in this world made his mother truly giddy, but something about Christmas did, and they’d all grown up indulging her. Granted it had turned their mother into a bit of Holly Jolly Yuletide Monster, but that meant she could be easily distracted by anything that lit-up and played a Christmas carol.

“We both have two full weeks off. Two full weeks we intend to spend together,” Jiang Cheng said. “So, it was either deal with Mom’s increasingly dramatic speeches about me abandoning the family and our traditions because of my demands over Thanksgiving or drag Xichen to Lotus Pier, slap a Santa hat on his head, and tell him to keep calm and merry on.”

Wei Ying whistled low.

"What?" Jiang Cheng demanded.

“Nothing," Wei Ying said, fidgeting with his napkin. "Just, you might want to ask Mingjue if you can borrow some of his homemade brew. Xichen might need it to get through the next two weeks. Does he know almost all of the Jiangs and the Yus will be there? To stare at him? The only person you’ve ever brought home for the holidays?”

“They’ll only all be there for Christmas Eve and Day. And New Year’s. The rest of the time they’re at their own homes,” Jiang Cheng said.

He had, in fact, kept that small, truly insignificant detail from Xichen. Even combined the Jiangs and Yus couldn’t hold a candle to the seemingly unending amount of Lans. The biggest difference was, well, the Yus were loudly opinionated and unafraid to show it and the Jiangs were either like Yanli or like...him.

“He’ll be fine,” he said, more to himself than Wei Ying. Xichen was charming. All he had to do was nod and smile and he’d win most of the family over.

His brother scoffed. “Better ask Mingjue for two bottles of that home brew.”

Wei Ying absolutely deserved to get Jiang Cheng’s napkin thrown at him, but he also had a point.

He’d call Mingjue as soon as lunch was over.

**********

“Zhan,” Lan Xichen said in surprise at finding his little brother in his kitchen. “I wasn’t expecting you today.”

“Yuan wanted to visit Jingyi,” he explained. He finished rearranging Xichen’s orchids, like he always did when he visited. “And I came to prepare you.”

“Prepare me?” Xichen asked in confusion. “Prepare me for what?"

Zhan pulled a dvd case out of his coat pocket and handed it to him.

“National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation,” Xichen read out the title. “What’s this?”

“While done for comedic effect, of all the general holiday films out there, I felt this was the one that would best prepare you for Christmas at Lotus Pier. Once it’s done there is a series, I believe called Crazy Christmas Lights, that we will also watch for your preparation.”

His brother could be hilariously funny and sarcastic when he was in a mood, but this was not a joke. His face and eyes both showed that he was completely serious.

“It can’t be that bad,” he said even as he followed Zhan into the living room.

His brother shook his head. “That’s what I thought. And then I saw the polar bears.”

“The what?” Xichen asked.

“They sing and play instruments, like those bears at Disney World,” Zhan said.

Lan Xichen froze in place. “Madame Yu has her own Christmas version of the Country Bears Jamboree?” he asked.

“Polar bears,” Zhan corrected as he took the dvd case from Xichen’s lax grip.

**********

The drive had been long. The boat trip had been uneventful. Lotus Pier remained one of the most beautiful places Jiang Cheng had ever seen in his life as long as he didn't look at their backyard. Xichen still hadn’t started a running sprint towards the ocean to escape, so Jiang Cheng felt that so far it could all be counted as a success.

“Baby, you need to breathe,” he said once he’d parked the car.

“Is this the right time to mention your mother terrifies more than any person or thing I’ve ever encountered in my life,” Xichen said, clutching Pepper’s carrier in his lap.

“That’s just your natural sense of survival,” Jiang Cheng said. “It’s my cousins you really have to be careful around.”

No one could prove that Yu Jinzhu and Yu Yinzhu were professional assassins, but no one could disprove it either. It was one of Wei Ying’s more sensible conspiracy theories.

He leaned across the seat and kissed Xichen’s forehead. “Besides, my mother likes you. Even more, she likes and approves of you. You’re going to be fine.”

“Right, of course,” Xichen said, nodding. He still had a white-knuckle hold on Pepper’s carrier and the fabric was reaching its breaking point.

Jiang Cheng put his hands over Xichen’s own and held them there until Xichen’s entire body relaxed.

“Okay?” he asked.

Xichen nodded again. “Should I also mention I can’t stand your father?”

“Hey,” Jiang Cheng said with a true smile. “That makes two of us.”

Xichen did not laugh. Instead his eyes narrowed as he took in the backyard. “Is that...is that an inflatable Santa and his sleigh and reindeer?”

Jiang Cheng took a deep breath.

“So, here’s the thing,” he said as he unlocked the car doors. “Mom has a bit of a collection.”

**********

There was a tiny elf sitting on the mantle of the fireplace in their bedroom. Logically Xichen knew it was a toy or decorative object and its eyes couldn’t possibly be following him and yet he wondered if Jiang Cheng would be horribly insulted if he hid it in the back of their wardrobe.

“Oh fuck,” Jiang Cheng said as he came into the room . “That fucking creepy ass thing. I thought I got rid of them all already. Where the fuck did this one come from?”

He picked it up and marched across the hall to Wei Ying and Zhan’s room, opening the door wide enough to toss it in.

“No, no, hell no,” Wei Ying said opening the door again, hair and clothes a mess.

“Already?” Jiang Cheng asked. “We’ve only been here for an hour.”

“Yeah? Come back with that judgy face once you have a kid to take care of. You’ll grab any second alone you can get too.” He shoved the elf into Jiang Cheng’s chest. “You take the fucking creepy ass elf. I’ve already cleared this room out. No more. I’m not getting murdered in my sleep.”

“It’s not staying in my room,” Jiang Cheng said.

Both brothers fell silent and then turned their heads to the other bedroom on their floor.

“Yanli will kill us,” Jiang Cheng said.

“Yeah, but imagine the Peacock’s screams,” Wei Ying said. He gripped Jiang Cheng’s shoulder. “This is your mission, should you choose to accept it.”

“If I go down, I’m taking you with me,” Jiang Cheng said, already headed towards his sister’s bedroom.

“A worthy death,” Wei Ying said, before slamming his door.

Xichen was on vacation. He was not going to play Academy Headmaster to a group of thirty-somethings. He was going to pretend he hadn’t witnessed the last fifteen minutes. He was going to disavow any knowledge of what just occurred. He was absolutely not going to get on Yanli’s bad side. Or Madame Yu’s.

He continued his unpacking, a task interrupted by the eyes he felt on him earlier, and went over to the wardrobe.

“What the fuck!”

The words were out of his mouth before he even processed it. Jiang Cheng came running back into the room.

“Baby?” he asked.

“Why?” Xichen asked. “Why are there more elves?”

This one was sitting on the top shelf of the wardrobe staring down at him. Looking at him as if he knew Xichen disliked him. It. The decorative object that could not possibly have thoughts or feelings of any kind.

“I am so sorry,” Jiang Cheng said, grabbing it and tossing it towards the hall. “I had no idea she’d acquired more.”

“How many are there?” he asked.

Jiang Cheng cupped his cheek. “I love you,” he said.

“How many?” Xichen asked.

“I love you, so much,” Jiang Cheng said.

“How. Many.”

“With all that’s in me,” he continued.

“Jiang Cheng.”

“There’s probably sixty now,” he said. “She makes it into a scavenger hunt for the kids.”

It was only Saturday. He’d been here for less than two hours. He already felt like he was losing his mind.

He was never ignoring his brother’s warnings again.

“For the record, I deeply wish we were in Maine right now,” he said.

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng agreed.

He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. “And while I have no regrets about coming here, I can’t promise all of your mother’s horrid little elf creatures will survive this weekend.”

“We’ll blame it on Sugar,” he said.

“And I love you,” Xichen said. “Even if I’m not entirely sure my sanity will survive this weekend either.”

“You’re not afraid of penguins too are you?” he asked.

Xichen laughed. “No, no, of course not.”

Jiang Cheng hugged him tighter. “You’ll be just fine.”

“What does that mean?” he asked, suddenly not feeling fine at all.

“Nothing,” Jiang Cheng said, too quickly. “Nothing at all. Just a little thing out by the tennis court that’s of no concern.”

Xichen took a deep breath, leaning even more on Jiang Cheng, and reminding himself that this is what it meant to be family, to share each other’s traditions. Even if they came with horribly clashing colors and tacky inflatable lawn decor and creepy elves and a Christmas tree in their room covered in bear ornaments. He still had two full weeks of Jiang Cheng in his arms and Sugar, Pepper, and Nutmeg close to him. With his own brother and his nephew. A few tacky lights and the overpowering smell of peppermint everywhere was a small price to pay for such a gift.

He opened his eyes and found one of those creepy ass elves on top of curtain rod.

“My love, I’m going to need you to sweep this room again, because I just found another one.”

“Fuck,” Jiang Cheng said as he turned around and walked over to the window. “How in the hell did she even--she stuck Velcro on it? What in the hell?”

[setaripendragon]

That Strange Bennett Child

So it occurred to me (I wasn’t even watching Rise of the Guardians, it just happened out of nowhere) that in the Rise of the Guardians fandom, there’s a lot of stories where Jamie and/or some of his friends remember the Guardians even into adulthood. And don’t get me wrong, I love those stories. But it occurred to me that out of all the kids, Jamie isn’t actually the one most likely to remember. Yes, he had direct contact with a Guardian, but even if the Guardians avoid contact where possible, there have to have been other kids who talked to the Guardians over the years. Jamie’s just as likely as anyone else to brush off what he saw as a kid’s over-active imagination when he gets older. Sophie on the other hand, visited the Warren. I could be wrong here, but as far as I can remember, she was the only kid in the movie to actually visit one of the Guardian’s realms. She, in fact, spent all night there. Add to that the fact that Bunny’s race is named after (and very, very losely based on) a specific type of fae, and, well. There are myths about people that get kidnapped by the fae, and those people are usually a bit odd when they get back, if they get back at all. So! I wrote the fic! =D

Everyone forgot. Oh, it wasn’t that simple, Sophie knew. They didn’t forget what had happened, exactly, they just… convinced themselves it couldn’t possibly have been real. That they’d made it all up. ‘Boy, I sure had an active imagination when I was a kid’ and so on. It had terrified her, when she was younger, watching everyone around her brush off friends they’d risked their lives to save, once upon a time, because it was too difficult to keep believing in them.

The worst was when Jamie had stopped believing. It hadn’t happened all at once, he’d just… been interested in other things. Dismissive, a little, and Sophie had been annoyed about, but Jack had just laughed it off, saying he was a newly minted teenager, and teenagers were just like that. Sophie’d been nine, almost two years later, the first time Jamie didn’t even look up when Jack dropped in to check on them. Sophie had tried to tell him, grabbing his arm and yelling “Jack’s here!”

And Jamie had shaken her off and told her “Enough, Sophie. I don’t wanna play make-believe with you right now.” Then he’d gone back to his video game. Sophie had thrown the mother of all tantrums, and sulked for a week, refusing to speak to anyone except Jack. And even with him, she was petulant and miserable.

Eventually, Jack had called in reinforcements to try and cheer her up. “Hey there, little sheila. It’s okay. We knew this was going to happen, we’re not upset.” The Easter Bunny told her, and then it had come out. It didn’t matter how much proof kids thought they had, it didn’t matter how much time they spent with the Guardians. The Guardians belonged to childhood, and so growing up meant forgetting.

It had terrified her. Sophie had approached her thirteenth birthday with dread, unlike the excitement all her friends were showing. She spent a lot of time with Aster – his name was Aster, he was the closest thing she’d ever known to a father, and she was going to forget he even existed – trying to cram as much time with him as possible into every day.

She lost touch with her primary school friends after that. It wasn’t that she didn’t like them any more, but she couldn’t bear to watch them forget like Jamie and his friends had all forgotten. So she made new friends. Sort of. She never really let them close anymore, because she was starting to get odd looks for mentioning Santa or the Easter Bunny. And she refused – refused – to pretend she didn’t believe, not even for one moment. Because if she started pretending, how long would it be before she forgot it was only pretend?

She spent her thirteenth birthday in the Warren. Aster hadn’t wanted to let her visit, but Sophie had run away from the party her mom had planned – she felt a little guilty about that, but not guilty enough to go back – and wandered around the woods until she found the entrance to Pitch Black’s lair.

Because any proof was better than nothing.

Jack had caught up with her while she’d still been gawping up at the room full of giant wrought-iron bird cages, and brought her to the Warren. Aster had scolded her up one side and down the other, but Sophie didn’t care, and she wasn’t sorry. She glowered and scowled through the whole ordeal, and didn’t say a word until, exasperated, Aster had demanded to know what she would have done if Pitch had found her first.

Sophie had smirked, flicked her fringe out of her eyes with a toss of her head, and told him; “At least I would have known he was real.”

Aster and Jack had relented, with sympathy clear in their eyes, and let her stay until it was starting to get dark in Burgess. They’d also told her stories, so many stories, about themselves. Their lives, their histories, their truths, and Sophie had treasured each and every one as the gift it was. The gift of memory, no matter how long it might or might not last. They were giving her the only thing she really wanted; more ways to hold on to her friends.

She’d gone home in the evening with flowers woven into her hair, paint and grass-stains making a mess of her clothes, and a chill in her fingers from a snowball fight in the middle of July. Her mother had been in state, too worried to properly take in just how odd Sophie looked in that moment, how out of place every last thing about her was, but Jamie didn’t miss it, and neither did any of the other people Lizzy Bennett had drafted to help look for her daughter.

“Where the hell have you been?!” Lizzy demanded with frustrated worry poured into every word.

Sophie had smiled, feeling more settled than she had for months. “Underhill.” She answered. It was, technically, not a lie. She had, in fact, been under a hill.

“Away with the fairies?” Jamie asked, teasing, but he was trying to be friendly. Sophie could see that now where she hadn’t been able to, before. Trying to join in the only way he knew how. It wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t remember, after all, and he just didn’t know how much it hurt Sophie that he didn’t understand her joke.

So she didn’t snap at him, like she had been doing for months. Instead, all she said was; “Something like that.”

“Strange child.” Someone muttered.

Lizzy shot a glare at the speaker, but Sophie just grinned. Yes. Yes, she was.

Sophie Bennett didn’t forget. She didn’t know why not. Why, at fifteen, she could still see Jack as clear as day, when everyone else looked right through him. She never once took it for granted though. She never once stopped being grateful that she could still run to the Warren when the world got too much, could go to Aster for advice, and North for hugs, and Jack for a few hours of uncomplicated fun. She never stopped waving to Sandy when he passed by, or leaving little treats out for Baby Tooth and her sisters.

She got dancing lessons from Tooth, and she learnt to paint from Aster. Jack taught her to ice-skate, and North showed her magic. From Sandy, she got lessons on fighting. Fighting dirty, fighting outnumbered, fighting with a weapon, fighting with words.

She never quite stopped being ‘that strange Bennett child’.

It never quite stopped hurting, the knowledge that everyone else had forgotten, but it got better. It got better when Jamie decided to write his own stories. “All those adventures I came up with when I was a kid,” he’d explained, laughingly, “they were good stories, weren’t they? I should write them down.” Sophie helped, reminding him of little details he’d forgotten when he’d forgotten they weren’t real, and she told him other stories, her own stories, and let him write those, too.

It got better when Cupcake started working at the local stables, and Sophie realised there were unicorns in the paddock. Cupcake couldn’t see them, of course, she thought they were just normal horses, but Sophie knew. She could see their horns and the intelligence in their eyes. No one knew why she favoured those horses, or why she talked to them like they could understand every word she said, but by that point, everyone brushed it off as being just another oddity from ‘that strange Bennett child’. She learnt to ride on the back of a unicorn, under the instruction of both Cupcake and the unicorn himself.

It got better when Caleb went to art college, and came home at the holidays with folders full of the most beautiful, fantastical pictures. Dragons that reminded Sophie of some of Sandy’s dream-sand creatures, all golden scales and delicate frills. Vampires that looked hilariously like a certain bogeyman. Little elves playing with trinkets like magpies. Villages full of anthropomorphic rabbits in robes and glasses. Angels with jewel-bright wings and scimitars and fairies with rainbow skin and little beaks. When she mentioned it to the Guardians, they’d all laughed about it, amused and pleased in equal measure, and Tooth had winked at Sophie when no one else was looking.

So it got better, even if Sophie couldn’t quite let go of her anger at the unfairness of it. More on her brother’s behalf than for herself. Jamie had adored Jack, had looked up to him like the cool older brother he’d never had, and that he’d forgotten that was just not fair. And sometimes, when he came to visit her, Jack would look over at Jamie with the ghost of sorrow in his eyes, and it took all of Sophie’s efforts not to scream.

Sometimes, she didn’t bother trying to hold herself back. Not with Jack, or Jamie, or her mom, because she loved them and it wasn’t their fault that the world wasn’t fair. It wasn’t anyone else’s fault, either, but Sophie only had so much restraint. She swore at anyone who ever told her – or anyone else in her vicinity – to ‘grow up’. She shouted right back at teachers who shouted at her for not paying attention because one of the bookworms had more interesting things to say. She broke noses when the other kids mocked her for still believing in Santa Claus, and picked fights with strangers who walked through what they only thought was empty air.

She knew her mom worried about her, worried that she was ‘falling in with the wrong crowd’ because Sophie still vanished down to the lake every now and then to visit her friends. Lizzy didn’t believe Sophie when she told her she was ice-skating with ghosts, or painting with a shapeshifter, or dancing with fairies, and she demanded the ‘truth’ until Sophie had exploded. “You don’t want the truth, or you’d believe me when I told it to you! You just want me to tell a lie you can believe! Well, I won’t!” She’d shouted. There’d been more shouting, on both sides, and Sophie had gone right back to the Warren to cry all over Aster about it.

Of course, he wasn’t much help, because his advice was to lie about it. But at least his advice came with hugs, and hot chocolate, and an egg-shaped nest full of the softest blankets for Sophie to curl up and sleep in once she’d cried herself out. She got to eat honey-slathered toast for breakfast with fresh apple juice, and Aster walked her all the way home after breakfast, patient and steady no matter how much she dragged her feet.

Her mother cried when she saw her, hugged her and apologised and swore to listen better from then on. They talked a lot that morning, and Lizzy was as good as her promise. She didn’t understand, not really, and it was clear she didn’t actually believe Sophie. It was obvious that she was very, very worried, but Sophie pointed out she’d never been hurt when she wandered off, she always came home safe, even last night, and Lizzy had to admit it was true. Eventually, they realised that they weren’t going to to be able to change anything, but they could, at least, accept each other. They came to an unspoken compromise. Lizzy still asked where Sophie was going, and Sophie still told her the truth, and Lizzy still didn’t believe her, and that was okay.

That Christmas, Sophie got two presents from Santa. One actually was from Santa, and it was the – accurate – book on magical creatures that she’d asked him for. The other was a butterfly knife, and the note was very clearly in her mother’s handwriting, even if it had been signed with a different name. It was the best Christmas present Sophie had ever gotten, and she’d put the knife aside to go and hug her mother and whisper a thank you with tears in her eyes. Maybe it had been a misplaced attempt – Sophie didn’t need tricks to affirm her belief – but it meant so much that her mother had tried at all. That whether it was true or not, she remembered buying ‘santa’ presents for Sophie when she was little, and she was willing to do it again, even if she thought it was silly, if it would make Sophie feel more accepted in her own home.

She got a present from Santa for her birthday that year, too. She’d gone to visit the Warren, like she did every year on her birthday. Only in the evenings, now, the rest of the day was for family, but she still went, every year, to remind herself she could. And that time, they’d all given her gifts. They never had before, birthdays weren’t really so much of an important thing when you lived for centuries, possibly millennia, but this time was different.

“If you have not forgotten by now, you are not going to.” North had told her solemnly, one large hand resting on her shoulder. “All children are precious to us, but you are something different. Perhaps, one day, you will be a Guardian yourself.”

Sophie didn’t think so. At least, she didn’t feel like any sort of spirit or fae creature. She had a little magic, just enough to warm her coffee when it started to cool, or keep her schoolwork dry when it rained, but she didn’t think she’d ever be anything like North, or Jack.

Tooth gave her an earring made with one of her own feathers. North gave her a puzzle box that would only open for her. Sandy gave her pen with ink made from dreamsand that would never run out. Jack gave her a snowflake pendant made of ice that would never melt. And Aster gave her a pair of leather bracers just like his.

Something different, Sophie thought to herself as her mom and Jamie both eyed her new gifts with confusion and wariness. It was true, she thought, in more ways than one. The fact of the matter was that she didn’t quite fit right in this life, but it was equally true that she was too much a part of this world to ever truly be something else. She wasn’t like Jack, who had cut all ties to his mortal life when he drowned, and she wasn’t like North, who’d left his mortal constraints behind one step at a time as he’d embraced the legend he’d become.

Sophie still had her family. Her mother and brother, whom she loved and wouldn’t let go of for anything. And she had her friends, her Guardians, whom she loved, and wouldn’t let go of for anything. She was caught in between, and quite honestly? She was perfectly happy right where she was.

[kolabshatterskull]

The Misadventures of Kolab

Kolab’s Journal...Diary...Book he found and started scribbling in? Take your pick.

“Now let me tell you something about Warsong Gulch. It is a Gulch. That we, the Warsong, fought for control over. A shocking revelation. I know. But don’t you worry. It took many scholars and far seers years to come to terms with that realization. Even some of my old superiors. Some of them entered self imposed exile atop high mountains to contemplate this very thing. They said to me ‘Kolab, you drove me to do this.’ Before they set off to those mountains. Now it couldn’t have been something I said.”

The rest of this page is covered in a blotchy red stain. Blood? Possible. More likely taco sauce. If one were to press their nose right into the parchment and give a big ol’ sniff they might be able to riddle it out. But why would they do such a thing? Book sniffing ain’t normal. What are you doing. Stop it now.

The ‘tale’ is carried on in the following page.

“But more importantly than WHY it is called Warsong Gulch is why we were there! Some back at the Mor’shan Rampart would say it was for the glory of the Warsong. Others would tell you we earned that forest in the blood of our warriors and the sacrifice of our Chieftain against the demon with the giant fucking tusks. Others may tell you it was for that sweet, sweet lumber for chairs and spikes and junk. WRONG! All of them! We were there because the damned place was called...WARSONG Gulch! It had our name on it! Since time immemorial! Think about that. If some land was called ‘Blood Elf Forest’ but some damned Trolls were squatting all over the place, what were they expected to do? Coexist? NEVER! They were taught to coexist with a sword to the belly! No wonder they sided with us. Anyone willing to liberate their land from the tyrannical natives will always have a place in my Horde.”

“What were we talking about? No. What am I writing in here? C’mon book. Don’t let me down...RIGHT! Warsong Gulch. Now that was a hell of a time. There I was, a fresh faced Grunt at Mor’shan Rampart, wearing steel so shiny the sun reflecting off it could blind a fire elemental. I’d not been given my black tabard yet with the howling maw of the Warsong on it. That had to be earned. Little did I know there was a glorious adventure to be had right around the corner.”

“I rounded the corner, just like I said I would, and BAM! Walked straight into the three Orcs I’d been put into a squad with. It was almost like they’d told me to meet them just around the corner past the tunnel in the stronghold...They actually had the previous night. What a happy coincidence.”

“Ozuld Angerpride was the sergeant. Now he was what every Warsong aspired to be. He’d fought in the last three wars and lived to tell the tale. He could swing a cleaver from the back of a worg with such force it sent the foe’s head flying. He could execute the perfect ambush on the stop of a silver. It was even said he carried with him the family recipe for the perfect bacon. It was an absolute honor to serve under his command.”

“Then there was Cres Deadwatch. Monster of a Grunt. With that shield and cleaver he carried he could hold the line like none other. He’d earned that surname from earlier in the conflict over the Gulch. His last squad had been slain in an ambush while on watch by the Night Elves, with him as the sole survivor. He carried it as a grim reminder I reckon. Because he was ever vigilant after that. If a deer stepped on a twig a mile away he’d know about it.”

“Finally there was Thirl Rageteeth. Now he was what the late Warchief Helscream would call a ‘true Orc’. This Grunt was so eager for battle he’d have marched straight into Darnassus waving the red banner and challenged the whole of the enemy to meet him in combat. Luckily that never occured. We’d have been honorbound to march right alongside him.”

“...SO! It was our first patrol as a squad. Dawn patrol. Because then there was still the belief that the Night Elves slept in during the day. That proved to be false! BUT! Back to the story! There we were, setting out from the stronghold armed and armored for war. The Sergeant told us that this was supposed to be ‘reconnaissance’. How did we know? Because he said ‘Alright Grunts. This is reconnaissance.’ He’d then gone on to say something about keep an eye out for ambushes, something about the trees, this that and the next thing. But what was there to worry about? Night Elves slept in they’d told us! We’d have nothing but an uneventful stroll through the woods. Find a good fishing spot or two. Possibly even tip a bear over. You know. Just your average day.”

“HOW WRONG I WAS! There we were, no longer than two hours into the patrol. We’d made our way deep into their territory by now. Everything had gone according to plan. We’d found a potential fishing spot. We’d not found a bear, but there was still time on the way back. But there we were, in a valley flanked by two hills...when we heard it. The sound of wheels on earth. We knew that sound. GLAIVE THROWERS!”

“The Sergeant told us to set up in a flanking pattern, on both sides of the valley. That we did. I raised my shotgun toward the sound of the wheels, knowing that there was bound to be a glaive thrower or two with who knows how many of the enemy escorting it. Now this would have been a glorious first battle…”

“But we were wrong! The ancestors threw a wrench in this would be glorious battle. For it was not a glaive thrower. It was...a wagon full of the wounded enemy. Those who’d survived some of the first few skirmishes over the Gulch. They were in no shape for battle. They were being escorted back to Night Elven territory by their brothers and sisters in arms.”

“So what happened next, you ask? Well you had four heavily armed Warsong warriors and a lightly defended convoy of wounded enemy passing by? What do you think happened? Really. What do you think happened? Because I’ll tell you! Right now! Ohh shit I dropped myffff”

The bottom section of the page is covered in, what one could only assume, was coffee based on how large and brown and blotchy it is. It appears the tale is finished on the following, uncoffeed page, but, well, that page is stuck to this one. It’ll take some time to pry that adhesive free without ripping the page. Better get to it.

((Woah, you read this far down? Well done! Part 2 will be up eventually!))

[enkisstories]

Just like them (part 4)

Still November 16, 2038 Capitol Park

Daniel was standing slightly hunched over with his back against a lantern post. In Raj’s worn out sweater that was a few sizes too large for him and his expression switching erratically between stiffling back tears and radiating searing hatred, the deviant was looking just like another homeless taking a breather between… whatever it was that homeless humans were doing.

The android’s gaze went over Capitol Park; he was taking in the scenery, but feeling nothing. Maybe history had been written at this place, or at least events  that had prepared history getting written had occurred here. But even so, what did history mean to Daniel no-longer-Phillips? It was in the past. Like his old life.

All the places inside me that used to be wolf are empty and the stars haven’t filled up them yet.

The quote had come unbidden to Daniel’s deviant mind. The line came from one of Emma’s favorite animated movies, a fantasy flick about elves that had blood-bonded with wolves to survive on a hostile world they had crashed on in their magical palace. The movie had been all the rage in 2037.

Stars…

Daniel raised his head. A few determined stars were piercing through Detroit’s urban dust cloud. They were flickering as if uncertain if winking out wasn’t the better option.

Yeah, suckers. I have no idea why I’ve come here tonight either.

The idea had been sound, though… One couldn’t go through life in an old sweater of one’s downstairs neighbor and playing a video of the past in one’s head all the time. Striving for redemption meant you had to devote your life to making the world around you as positive as possible, not to make yourself feel as miserable as possible. That sounded uplifting in theory only. In practice no one told you how to achieve those feats. No one ever told you anything. Alone… always alone. Alone with the anger. Anger at the Phillips family. At himself. At the cruel fact that “the Phillips family” and “himself” had always been two different things and that he just hadn’t gotten that. A good chunk of Daniel’s anger also got directed the Rasoya family’s way. The humans had donated some old clothes and pocket money, but then sent Daniel out to “live” and “get it over already”.

Easy to say for them! To the world three months had passed since the kidnapping and the human family was wondering why Daniel hadn’t made any progress at all since then. How hard was it to understand that he had spent those months deactivated? That no time had passed for the android? From Daniel’s perspective his first encounter with Connor had happened the day before yesterday. And, come to think of it, the second one, when Connor had interrogated the PL600 about Jericho, felt like having happened yesterday. The third had occurred only this morning, at the DPD! That were three Connor-moments in as many days!!!

Three days ago… three days ago John had still been alive.

I didn’t want to kill you. Why couldn’t you, I dunno, just dodge my shots? Is that asked for too much?! Yeah, right, like everything. You never lifted a finger for me. And then you died on me, leaving me in this mess…

And that was when the music started, a guitar being played near the center of the square. At first Daniel thought he was imagining the music notes, but then a voice rose up to accompany the guitar player:

Timmain – shape-shifter, your people are exiles / wandering aimless, your people are lost. Hated and hunted, with fear their companion / chilled by the rainstorm and pierced by the frost…

So that was why the deviant had thought about the wolf/stars quote just a few heartbeats ago! Because he had heard the artist strumming their guitar in preparation for this song, without really becoming aware of what his audio receptors were picking up. Now that he was paying attention actively, a quick analysis of his digital memory told Daniel that the song was sung by the very same artist who had performed it for the movie. She was right here and quickly drawing a crowd. Daniel noticed a few androids mixed into the humans. The amount of shoving and getting shoved was pretty equal between both species.

Another PL600 was waving with two hotdogs he had just purchased. From out of the crowd a woman and boychild emerged. They were holding autographs. Great care was taken not to spill fat on the signed pictures when the hot dogs were exchanged for the papers. After the autographs had gotten stored and the humans were holding their sausages, the PL600 put a bubble gum into his mouth so that all three of them were munching on something. And then they took the child between them and walked away, chatting and laughing, as if they didn’t have a single care in the world. And then…

…then Daniel pushed himself away from the lantern post and walked past the family of three, elbowing the android as he went by.

The PL600 turned around and opened his mouth. His human partner dragged him away, muttering: “Let’m. Haters gonna hate, is all.”

What have I done? Why did I...? I didn’t want to hurt it! It did nothing to deserve an attack. It was cherished. No, not “it”. He! What the hell is wrong with me?!

Standing there dumbfounded, Daniel heard the other PL600 lament: “But I thought all the haters had left Detroit during the evacuation! That the hiding and the fear would be over! I mean, it’s been a week since Markus … Uh, silly me. A week is nothing, right?”

Not for humans, but for us. Humans… those lucky buggers are near eternal.

Oh, yes, Daniel of course knew all the talk about thirium being an incredible power source and how android batteries were good for a hundred years or more. And that was true for the happy community of voltaic cells, unfortunately by the time it had reached the end of its life, the battery would have passed through many android bodies, because those weren’t built to last. CyberLife had wanted to sell the newest models, after all. Even before getting shot, Daniel had felt the first age related ailments: scratches on his chassis that had accumulated over time and glitches in his software. The situation inevitably would become worse, especially with CyberLife having dropped support for the PL600 model.   Just like cars, some androids didn’t even survive their first year, but with care they could become as old as twenty, with lucky individuals surpassing even that milestone. It wasn’t fair, but pondering the unfairness of CyberLife’s business plan served to distract Daniel’s mind from the unfairness he had committed himself just now.

“I’ll be back with you in a jiffy!”

That was the singer’s voice, coming from out of the shambling heap made of human bodies.

“But for now let me see to those who are too shy to push forward! We’re all packmates, after all!”

And with these words the singer moved through the crowd towards the fans that were standing at its very edge. In fact, she was standing right next to Daniel all of a sudden and brandishing her pen.

“Uh, sorry, but I don’t…”

“Don’t have a picture to sign? No biggie! We’ve been told how tight money is for many in this city, that’s why my manager brought enough photos to pass around.”

The photograph the singer produced didn’t show her in a costume or anything related to the movie, it was a simple headshot in front of a grey background. The sheet of paper wasn’t even layered to project the signature it was to receive above it either. It was just an old-fashioned 2-D picture.

Clever bastard, that manager, dishing the cheap stuff out to the penniless as to not make the actually paying customers grumpy, Daniel thought, while out loud muttering something about having seen the elf movie with “his girl”. The bitch must have glimpsed my LED (that Daniel had to keep as another of those pesky parole terms), and is now making a big show of sisterhood with an android. That’s all there is to it! Maintaining her public image! She’s not really being  nice to me.

“Want me to sign this for her?” the singer asked. “What’s her name?”

“E… Emma.”

“Your girlfriend?”

“Uh… no. I… hate her? I’m not sure. I mean, I don’t want to hate her, but she sure does hate me now. There’s no other possibility.”

“Girlfriend, check”, the singer nodded wisely. “Been there, too, you know.” The artists flashed the android an encouraging smile before turning to the next fan. The crowd started pushing and shoving again, moving across the square like a lazy, content gelatinous cube. Daniel got moved along until the mass ejected him near the CyberLife store’s near-empty window. A few blood bags and replacement components were up for sale, but no androids anymore. Or at least not for time being. In the future… who could tell!

Daniel carefully stored the autograph in his oversized sweater’s front pocket. He might forget about it or it might become an anonymously sent Christmas present. That, too, remained to be seen.

(to be continued)

Timmain - The calling: At 8:27 here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W9NPlbTyU40

[duraxxor]

“Restored Vestige”

You grasp the shard of blood into your hands, tracing each and every corner and division in the crystalline item. Light dimly reflects off it’s surface with every twist and turning of the precious jewel. Your desire to quench your curiosity begins to manifest, providing the substance with a crimson catalyst. One that senses a network of static directly into your veins that reach the back of your mind, creating a vision of some sort. A haze clouds your vision that fades into a white smoke, giving birth to a scenery of some sort of spectacle. 

Golden trinkets and banners of noble houses and organizations littered the walls. The architecture was clearly Sin’dorei, perhaps even Quel’dorei. Of course, the blue eyes of the various elves hinted the true test of time. Men and women were properly dressed in suits and gowns which sometimes lead many to partake in a second glance, whether they be handsome or beauty. Many of which had partners that allowed for the twirling duets as all appeared to be having a good time. All except a man whose hair was as white as snow, straightened for the occasion. His posture showing signs of discomfort along with the frowning expression that he didn’t quite belong in this setting. Twiddling his thumbs, he sized up the various people in the formations of dancing. Some of which he recognized for various reasons, whether they be reputation or malicious intent. Even back in those days, those eyes could very well kill. 

“ Ummm… Excuse me? “  the voice of a feminine creature called out to him. Quickly his eyes fixated on the female whom unlike the majority of the sun touched crowd, had chosen a black dress with heels. Black tangles cascaded down her shoulders and backside as those crystal blue eyes peered directly into the beast’s. “ Would you perhaps like to have a dance with me this evening, sir? “

The scarred man’s eyes narrowed in doubt at the woman’s intent. “ Find someone else. I’m not interested in courting for the sake of nobility. I was just leaving. “ The harsh tone could carve stone with ease. The man didn’t even give the woman time to respond as he took his leave, but not without merely retreating to an outside balcony. 

While half of the woman was bewildered with shock that the man refused her in such a rude manner, the other half of her erupted much like the volcanic plumes of Un’goro, now furious at this man’s attitude. “ You son of a. . . “ Her teeth clenched behind the crimson lipstick as her fists balled with every bit of the woman’s fury. Now, she was on a mission to make a point as she followed him directly outside to the balcony itself.

As the now furious woman approached this white-haired man, he stood at the railing just on the edge, bringing himself to turn with discontent as he took a noticing to the woman’s stomping. “ Lady, I don’t know who you think you are bu- “ 

SMACK! 

The woman inflicted a harsh lick upon the left cheek of the rude man, bringing him to clutch such. “ Who the bloody hell do you think you are talking to a woman that way?! Don’t mistake me for one of those stuck-up women who think she’s too good for anyone! I will kick your ass all the way down the three floors! “ Continuously she jabbed her finger directly into his chest, pushing this male into a much more surprised state. “ Didn’t your mother teach you any manners? “

The cat eyes grew as wide as saucers as this female had caught the man quite off guard. Never in his life did he expect to find such a lady in the crowd who was willing to get into his face. Most wouldn’t dare approach the man who was known as the White Lynx. “ My mother died when I was a young lad. I don’t know shit about the proper life. It’s not like it matters, they ridicule me as the savage known as the White Lynx. “ The man growled with frustration, wincing his eyes as the painful thoughts that came with it. “ I should’ve just stayed at my bunk. “ 

The red lips opened with a shocked expression which also reflected a similar look in her eyes. She was just as surprised as he was for a completely different reason. “ … You’re Alphus Daevara? I... well, that would explain quite a bit. “ She bit onto her lower lip with a mixture of emotions on the matter. She had heard rumors of both the White Lynx and the Forgotten Heir, but never would she have thought they were true or even that she herself would ever meet the man in the first place. Her hand stung from amount of strength she had pushed into his punishment, delicately placing it upon his left shoulder to provide the solid muscle with a squeeze. “ Look. I apologize for speaking about your minn’da… but you can’t be so damn rude to everyone. Besides, I didn’t ask you for a dance because I wanted your nobility or anything... I just wanted to give another lonely soul some company. “ 

Alphus dropped his hand and turned directly to face the woman, giving her a roll of his eyes before that crooked smirk curved on his face. “ You lonely? Surely you have many men in line waiting for a chance to take you off your feet? “ 

The woman shrugged, reaching up to lately tap his cheek where she had administered the wake-up call. “ Eh. I politely declined most of them. Well, the one’s that take the hint anyways. The stubborn one’s often came out of it with a broken nose. “ Her giggles were kindred with his own laughter that fell out of their throats, both sounding slightly wicked. “ I’m Talendra, by the way. Talendra Sunblaze. “ Her hand instinctively went to his own and forced her own shaking upon it. 

“ I... uhhh… Alphus Durand Daevara. You can call me Dura if you prefer it. “ Dura responded, tightening his own grip into her hand. 

“ Ow... Oh my. Your grip is strong, sir. “ Her words fluttered with hints of laughter at just how shy this so-called murderer truly was. “ I may have not been completely honest with you about my approach. “ She admitted as they released their grips, bringing her hand to rub the back of her own head. “ I thought you were quite handsome sitting that chair like a sad sack. But now, I can see you’re quite the looker. I didn’t think murder could look so... delicious. “ Oh how the vicious woman’s face turned the brightest shades of red at her admittance. 

And she wasn’t alone either, as Dura was displaying his own redness along with the awkwardness. “ I mean, I wouldn’t say the murder itself is delicious as I have never tried such a thing but... it’s a job and a means to provide me with a way to- “ Within an instant, he was cut off by a pair of twin fingers covering his lips while the Talendra looked up to him with a pleasant smile. 

“ No need to get into the complications. I understand. “ Her pleasant demeanor was completely different from the aggressive side she displayed earlier. Perhaps she was as crazy as Dura was? “ Sooooo… can we, like, try that dance again? Only this time, I think we’ll have our own little privacy out here. Who gives a shit about what they think, right? “ 

“ Ummmm. Yeah, exactly. But the problem is, I don’t know how to dance... “ Dura admitted the fact with a flushing embarrassment that he couldn’t help but take his eyes of her. In this moment, he felt like a complete fool. That was, until he felt a pair of hands take hold of her wrists. One was upon her firm hip while the other possessed fingers which looped around each other in a courting manner. 

“ All you do, it sway back and forth like so. Sort of like a square. Imagine it being like... A technique for cutting into your foe at four angles. “ Her explanation appeared to register with the man rather well. Occasionally he would mess up and lightly nudge a leg or foot against her own. Even the accidental shift of his too close to her buttocks occurred until finally the awkwardness dissipated from his nervousness. Eventually they would get into the groove of such a simple dance, giving Dura such a pleasant enjoyment as they danced the night away while conversing about each other’s lives until finally the night’s light began to settle into the hills of Quel’thalas. Eventually leading the two to leave the fading party along with one another. 

The vision ended within your mind, leaving nothing but shattering glass image within your head. Perhaps it signified the shards destruction that fell to pieces from within your own palms? 

[ @sanasunbringer And that is how Dura found out he enjoyed dancing, especially with a partner. And also how he met his first wife. ]