#also she's not trying to hide her being a half-elf anymore

[the-journey-was-the-point]

Gonna start off with an art explanation!

I tend to associate Linnéa with a dark reddish brown-- I think it just suits her in that brown is a neutral down-to-earth color, but the reddish hue hints at a stronger nature. I think it really matches how lowkey she is as a person to the point that it's too easy to underestimate how cunning she can really be.

But my latest art has her in straight-up red. This is her as a prominent underworld figure, her at her peak. She's gone all-out, no more holding back.

Backstory below the cut!

The Gist

Still gonna have to flesh out details but the gist is that Calarphain dies and Linnéa finds out that she can't in fact sail to Valinor (it was always a longshot) and she's stuck in Middle Earth and then the group splits.

Separated from her friends, she ends up getting recruited (captured??) by some servants of Sauron (Angmarim?), likely to fill in Laerlas's spot (she helped take him down). There she gets a dark mentor, does some terrible things while working for them, and really earns her stripes.

And then she escapes, I think. In my mind is a scene where she runs through the wraith-infested Fields of Fornost and manages to enter Evendim where the threats are more.... alive (namely, thieves). And while there, she decides that all this time she's been a helpless pawn at the mercy of others, whose life is dependent on their word, and getting looked down on and demeaned. But no more. If she's gonna be stuck here, she's gonna be stuck safe and on top where no one can reach her, even if she has to carve out a place for herself with a butter knife. So she establishes her dominion...

So, why Evendim?

I think it's really cool how in LOTRO, Evendim is portrayed as a formerly great fallen kingdom that is now inhabited by graverobbers trying to make a buck, Angmarim serving Sauron, and Rangers trying to preserve their history and keep everything together.

Arnor fell long ago, and now much of Eriador is a deserted wilderness with orcs and bandits roaming the land. No one is actually in charge and the Rangers are stretched thin and I like to think there's ordinary folk who think Bree is getting a little too crowded so let's branch out... oops this place is infested with orcs and wights!

In other words, for Linnéa, it's free real estate!

So she gets involved in the criminal underworld then climbs up the ranks and goes on the aggressive and deals with anyone who tries to undermine her (I imagine it gets bloody). She also garners the genuine support of some ordinary folk by giving them protection from orcs and the like when they branch out to other lands. (I imagine her base/starting point is in Evendim, but her influence stretches out).

Once she's on top, the situation stabilizes and she becomes a Big Neutral figure with her own territories and henchmen. She has dealings of both a shady (spies, assassins, hired swords) and legitimate (shops, agriculture, town patron) nature, and everything in-between. She owns at least one tavern that's considered a "neutral zone" where brigand groups, Angmarim, and Rangers can parlay if so desired (no fighting allowed or else).

Both the Rangers and Angmarim are a little miffed that she took over but can't really move to take her down, mostly because she's way too useful (for both sides), and cus she's powerful enough that taking her down will leave a power vacuum. It goes for the other big underworld players too, there's a very delicate balance that needs to be maintained.

She's not ideal for the Rangers but she's also the most reasonable option. Better than an outright servant of Sauron or a power-hungry warlord. She's not actively trying to hurt people, and she sometimes even helps them out.

The War of the Ring

During the War of the Ring, her conscience is once again put to the test. She gets pressured to either side with the Dúnedain, or side with Sauron, or stay neutral as a third option. She takes a gamble and sides with the Dúnedain, feeling it's the right thing to do. She convinces some other underworld players to do the same, on account of "if Sauron wins, we all lose", which shifts the balance.

Problem is, the good guys won, and now that Aragorn is on the throne, her empire is on thin ice since now that Gondor and Arnor are reunited, he'll certainly wanna clean up. Some of her people suggest they... take care of Aragorn , but then Linnéa wonders if that's a good idea or if she still wants to do this. It's a new Age, after all.

And I guess it's all about how she tried so hard to make a place for herself where she'd be protected and respected only to willingly risk it because it was the right thing to do!

That's all I have for now but yeah that's the gist, sorry for the long post ^^"

[mintytealfox]

If the Da Capo cast were a dnd adventuring party?

👀👀

AWWWW HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECK YEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

MKAY MKAY HERE WE GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Norton: (closet)Sorcerer/Rogue //Half-Elf (the elf half being Drow)

Was born with an affinity for magic but was constantly told to suppress it and hide it. Being taught that magic is BAD, EVIL even, and was treated like this cursed child (His parents tried to protect him but his parents were killed cause of people trying to remove 'the devil child' from their village) ((There was already some stigma against them with Norton's father and family friend Benny being escaped Drow from the Under-Dark)) Benny was able to escape the village with a young Norton ((around 8 years old by this point, (he had magic that reacted to danger as an explosion to protect Norton but this of course sending the village into a riot)). He ends up hiding away his magic deep within himself and took to the shadows for survival as an apprentice to Benny.

Benny puts together a thieves guild, that Norton grows up in and preferring to work alone and do his own thing, much to Benny's frustration.

He ends up jumping at the opportunity when he gets a letter to join an adventuring party. Finally able to escape his current life and wanting to travel.

Norton never uses magic, even when lives are on the line, UNTIL he allows himself to bond with the members of this Da Capo Adventuring Group and ends up caring so much that he cannot hold his magic back from protecting them.

I went the Half-Elf//Drow route cause that further shows how Norton doesn't particularly belong to one place or another, he just exists as this rarity alone. ;; Doesn't belong underground, doesn't belong above ground, doesn't really have a place to call home with his parents gone, the one tether he had.

--------

Frederick: Bard/Fighter //Elf (High Elf to be specific)

So Frederick is a bard in name, but in practice? He has zero magic, absolutely ZERO ability to use magic, which peeves him off. So he is literally just a musician and composer and has to rely on physical weapons to protect himself. Like using his mandolin as a literal club in melee situations PFFF He can usually be found with his guns though. Like every pocket and bag that he has, there is a gun of some sort in there PFF

He came from a family of magic users so his complete and utter lack of magic ability was like a stain on the family name and he had to be hidden away from sight all his life. So he turned to music in hopes that he could become a bard and have access to magic through music but even that didn't work. He ended up keeping up with the music as it provided peace and comfort and extra cash when he would sneak out into town.

Along with learning music he also spent all those left over hours constantly working on his aim and and enjoying the loud BANGs that his gun provided. So he is significantly skilled marksman. So he could technically be a ranger, but I thought a fighter fit best cause its just him and whatever he can turn in to a weapon.

Always Wanting to find a way to access magic, so he won't have to be hidden away by his family anymore, he accepts the invitation to join this party.

High-Elf because of his family's vibe. Well to do, cream of society. All that jazz.

---------

Melly: Druid //Drow

I feel like this one is a given lol But she escaped the Under-Dark after being banished for her 'crimes' she was simply protecting herself. It was hell down there anyway so it was a win-win for her.

The first people who are kind to her end up being particular druids from a special grove that was more open to teach and share their beliefs and practices unconditionally. She ends up appreciated the wild life and insects of the surface world, like she did in the under dark. The creatures of the under dark were her only true allies when she lived down there, so she was glad to find she could have that companionship up here as well. Then with the training she received, she could now become these creatures.

She isn't particularly fond of spiders due to the connection to Lolth, but she will gladly turn into one if that means she can freak out Norton LOL

When she gets the letter to join an Adventuring party she is extremely confused lol cause who even knows her?? But when she reads the fine print her eyes widen, because by this point she is being hunted by those who had banished her, after hearing she is thriving they decide that banishment wasn't a punishment for her and now seek to kill her (she finds this out after finding the grove that took her in destroyed). So, agreeing to go with this party, she was promised that the hunt for her will end and she can finally live in peace.

I am not sure why I went with Drow but I felt like it fit her for some reason, and why she would always be wearing a veil due to the sun being so darn bright and seeking to hide that she is in fact a Drow.

--------

Orpheus: Cleric/Warlock //Human

I think its interesting my brain went this direction, but the idea that he is OBSESSED with his deity 'the Nightingale' (that no one has ever heard of 👀) It isn't until much later that he will realize that he isn't serving his goddess (which is what he believes happened to Alice, that she didn't die after the raid, but actually became divine! and he has vowed to always serve her), but he is actually serving a Great Old One pretending to be 'His Nightingale'. Playing with Orpheus's fantasies and stories, making them 'real' for him.

Orpheus constantly following the whisperings of his believed deity, puts together this group of individuals that the Old One prompts him to reach out to, that these are the people needed to go about this 'great' task so they all can achieve their greatest wishes.

Human? just because, honestly lol He is just some dude that causes way too many problems for being 'just some dude' PFF

--------

Alice: Ranger //Human Werewolf

When Alice narrowly escaped the raids that destroyed her home city and family. she was taken by a wizard that knew no one would miss her since they are all gone. He did experiments on her for years. She ended up being his favorite subject due to her high vitality levels. So he was cautious to keep her alive for as long as possible. Leaving the potentially deadly experiments on others.

One day the wizard brings a werewolf to the lab and Alice finds a fast friend in him. They begin quietly plotting how to get him out which led to a plan to 'accidently' leave the chains loose on a full moon night. He breaks out and in his rabid craze he takes out the wizard and every other living thing in the place except for Alice. He just stares at her, for an uncomfortable amount of time as Alice is pressed up into a corner unsure of what is about to happen. He sniffs at her, then meticulously gives her a wound, across her chest just under her collarbones, just big enough for her to contract lycanthropy. Then he runs off to find his freedom, leaving Alice stun locked and mortified what he just did to her. Was this his idea of a gift??

Alice ends up living in the wilderness and exploring the world, leading her to be a Ranger. Able to live off the land, hunt, track, and comradery with animals that assist her. And of course, to stay out of the way of most humanoids as to not put them in harms way when the full moon comes. ;;

Alice ends up joining the Adventure Party because of her curiosity, and the promise of having her 'Curse' lifted (the Old One didn't specify to Orpheus what the curse was pff) But Alice would do just about anything to get this lycanthropy lifted so she can explore civilization and live in towns and cities without worry.

Human because of where her and Orpheus were from.

[lordgrimwing]

Marsupial au

[from this ask!]

The basics: everything is the same but the elves are marsupial and have pouches to carry around their babies!

Why would @nighttimepatrons and I make this au? Because it’s cute. Imagine little elflets trying to climb into their parents’ belly pouches to hide. Imagine the process of pouch-weaning an elflet who is really too big to be climbing in anymore. It’s just cute, ok?

Now, let’s talk about some elves and their pouches!

Nerdanel: Very roomy, very comfy. She’s had a lot of kids in there. Solid 8/10 (points deducted because occupants might get banged against rock she’s chiseling for her latest sculpture)

Feanor: Comfy place to curl up for a snooze but it gets a bit hot, and he will kick you out when he goes to the forge. 7/10

Maedhros: Excellent, so roomy, can easily hold two or more elflets at once, he’ll never bump against pointy table corners. 9/10 (some argue it’s too roomy)

Maglor/Celegorm/Caranthir: it’s fine, I guess, but why would you go in there when Maedhros is an option? 5/10 (at least Celegorm has good stories)

Curufin: “Leaving was the right thing to do, but I miss him sometimes. I miss all of them—who they were.” 3/10 (sample size of 1)

Ambarussar: The only things in those pouches are arrows. Unrated.

Glorfindel: A good place to hide for a few minutes or to peek out of during hikes to enjoy the view but he will evict you when he’s busy. 6/10

Erestor: Due to unfortunate childhood experiences, the only thing getting into this half-elf’s pouch is lent and yeast infections. 1/10 (Glorfindel’s trying to help)

Celeborn: He looks like the weak link during pouch-weaning, but it’s a trick. Grandpa will Not let you inside when mom says no more pouch. 7/10

Galadriel: No one’s dared to get in lately, but Celebrian reports that she was quite comfortable. 5/10 (points deducted for intimidation factor)

Celebrian: Cozy, a little tight with twins, very easy to fall asleep. 8/10

Gil-galad: Little Arwen’s claimed it as hers and only hers, so it mut be good. 7/10 (unfortunately she had to be pulled out after he fell at Sauron’s hands, which is very traumatic for an elflet)

Elrond: Much to his children’s confusion, he doesn’t have a pouch. No one in Melian’s line has one.

Marsupial clothing would be designed so that elflets have pouch access, so it isn’t an uncommon sight for little heads to suddenly poke out from between the folds of a robe, or for an elflet to start pulling at their parent’s clothes, trying to find the opening. Pants are a no-go when an elflet’s involved, there’s just no room to stretch.

Pouch hygiene is very important. A healthy pouch is a little moist and it should be regularly cleaned to prevent itchy yeast infections. Lent and dust can also cause irritation. Elrond gives Glorfindel salves to try to get Erestor to use in his crusty pouch so he doesn’t itch himself raw in his sleep.

There are some less fun parts, too, of course. Like the fact that itty bitty elflets might not be noticed if they fall out of the pouch, leaving them abandoned on the ground and too small to be alone for long. Or the way kidnappers can hold out a sack and some elflets will climb right in because it looks like a pouch. But most of this is happy! (outside of Erestor being relentlessly teased by his human playmates and Arwen being traumatized by Gil-galad’s death)

Oh, did I mention that Gil-galad, Elrond, and Celebrian are a threesome yet, because they are.

And kidnap fam totally happens. E+E like Maedhros’ pouch more than Maglor’s.

Ask me about fics that live rent-free in my head!

[baldursgay3]

It's time for me to ramble about my tav and his relationship with the group but also what will probably be a Lot about astarion

i will put this under a read only for most of it past act 1 to avoice spoilers dfor people but 

TL:DR:  Yandarai wants to see his friends and new family free of their gods and masters and seeing astarion so desperately want to be free makes him want to rip cazador's throat out himself so they can go cuddle on the fanciest bed possible with scratch and owlcub in their own fancy beds at the bottom of their own

(I also use the party limit begone mod so everyone comes with me all the time (this does not make the game any easier because i am incredibly bad at the game))

so preface Yandarai Irian is a "Half-Elf" archfey warlock who's patron Milkenan is his papa, and his other father Gyenodi also had a pact with Milkenan before they fell in love and he spirited him away from his noble family to the feywild to get married

Both of Yan's fathers are technically Elves (in appearance) but they're different types so he is often referred to as a Half-Elf, although he's closer to Eladrin (and with the fantastical multiverse mod in EA he was Eladrin )

Milkenan is Archfey/Noble Eladrin so powerful he could be considered Archfey, Gyenodi is High Elf

(Yan says he's a Half-elf but when asked what the other half is he'll only reply "elf" because he's a shit)

Before coming to faerun the only frame of reference he had for mortal beings was Gyenodi who has been in the feywild so long that he isn't as mortal as he once was anymore, and was a bit of a bastard before he left anyway, so Yan has no morals over things others would consider obvious, but he does know the Rules of the Court as thats all Gyenodi really remembers

He'll protect children and animals, but if neither of those are involved it'll be whatever he finds funniest

Until he catches friendship, and then also catches Feelings

platonic affection first comes for Shadowheart, she's standoffish and snarky and her secretive nature is something he loves because she's Interesting!! This funny girl is trying to hide that she's a sharran while wearing shar's emblem in 200 different places and she also has a toy that's stopping us from dying!!

Laezel comes next solely because she's so ready to just throw hands with everyone and the drama that causes is so good!! and then she opens up and he learns that she's just as isolated and alone and unsure of how this world works as he is

Gale is a funny little wizard guy who made so many bad decisions in the name of  love that Yan can't help but enjoy his dumbassery

Wyll is mostly in the same boat as Gale and he's even more interesting with the cool horns than he was without them. He knows what it's like to be a noble with some expectations to be more refined than he truly is

Karlach's enthusiasm is infectious even if they don't always see eye to eye on some matters, and he loves seeing her get so happy over simple things and finally being able to touch other people again. he gives her her first hug in a decade, and never shies away from any of her 

warm, friendly touches.

Halsin is Big and interesting and cares for animals and children as much as he does

Jaheira is Funny and that's the best thing you can be for Yan. She's been through a hell not that different to their current situation and she's still bantering and quipping with him. Her parenting is also funny to him as she's annoyed her own children who she raised clap back at her just as well as she does.

(I haven't got the minsc yet)

And then we have Astarion.

He's snippy, he's overly dramatic, he's the only companion who seems to actually use the tadpoles, he's even Bi

Yan knew something was Up with Astarion before the biting scene, but when you meet a guy with sharp teeth but literally nothing else that ticks the vampire list you don't really think too much on it you know. And then of course the Bite, and he lets him keep feeding while he sleeps because they have to stick together! If he's weak they're all weak and the situation they're in right now means any interpersonal issues will have to be put on hold, he's not the only person there that has tried to kill him already

The first night they spend together is fun, and the rare moment he's vulnerable in the sunlight about his scars is insightful and intimate in a way that he can tell is hard for Astarion. The second night once the grove has been saved is just as fun, even though it's mostly just groping each other in the forest while trying to eat each others faces because they're still battered from the fights in the goblin camp and it'd nice to just feel eachother up sometimes you know?

He calls him pretty when he offers to tell him what he looks like, although he would have much rather have been able to talk about all the little things like how the hair curls around his ears and how sometimes when he smiles his eyes crinkle up or the way his eyes get big and serious and shiny when Yan does something he genuinely appreciates and how long and gentle his fingers were when they were trailing down his neck and —

It's not love, or at least not yet. They're still in so much danger and there's no way this will last past them reaching the moonrise towers, let alone Baldur's Gate itself.

And then he asks Raphael to help him with his scars and also shows Yan just how much he wants to be Free of doing what other people want him to, even if it means taking over a whole cult to do so, sharing traumatic parts of his life under Cazador and how he does care for the other spawn in his own way.

He's still haunted by this man who is miles away, and for some reason Yan feels he Needs to help him get free far more intensely than he feels for the others in the group. They all have their own gods or masters who still Own them in some way, but only Astarion's spectre of the past fills him with Rage.

It seems it all comes to a head after meeting the drow woman in Moonrise towers. He'd already made up his mind that if Astarion wanted nothing to do with her, then he would do nothing to persuade him otherwise. But asking the woman about the potion she would offer them seemed to have given the other man the wrong idea.

Yan wouldn't deny it stung him a little, for Astarion to think that he would force him to, but the look on his face when he makes that clear is more than enough to soothe the hurt.

And then that night? The man admitting that while their nights of passion were just for his own protection at first? that hurt just as much somehow.

But it being followed up with Astarion Confessing his own feelings felt like heaven, as did the hands on his back and his head on his shoulder when Yan closed the distance to hold him.

It still wasn't love, but gods did it feel good having the other man smile against his lips.

It's only once they reach Rivington, having fought an avatar of death to get here, that he's able to think about everything that's happened. The others are asleep or meditating, the young child they've taken in curled up in a corner close to him. He can hear the owlcub hooting quietly at the other end of their camp, and he finally works up the courage to ask his papa through their bond

and Milkenan Laughs at him

You love your friends, but you're In Love with the sickly looking twig. Take care not to snap him by being too rough.

And if he were to hurt you, your father will come to make him regret ever living.

He takes that as their blessing, but keeps the words of his true feelings to himself for what might as well be a million years.

(he so desperately wants to curl up in a bed with him for a full tenday, just be safe and warm and pressed up against the other man at all times. Maybe when this is all over Astarion will let him drink his essence for a change)

The meeting with the Nymph only intensifies this, the True answers to the woman's questions being far too intimate for admitting in front of her, but knowing deep in his soul that he can Never be happy while Cazador lives, that he'll never be free if he goes through with the ritual himself. No longer a slave to a master, but to his own fears of becoming one once again.

The mansion and the echoes of the horrors that took place in it make it worse, the burning hot anger feeling like bile in the back of his throat. The screaming for Cazador's spine reach fever pitch as Astarion is ripped from them in the ritual room, and doesn't let up the entire battle.

It's only as he sees they have gotten through to Astarion when it comes to the state of the ritual that the screaming and the bile and the Hatred fizzle out into pure Relief, watching the man that he loves plunge the knife into Cazador again and again until there's no more movement and the man is Finally Free.

They free the thousands of souls from the crypt, far too drained to think of the consequences past they're innocent in all this. The Gur outside are (rightfully, Yan agrees when he can breathe again) upset at this but let them past, having fulfilled the promise to end Cazador. The walk through the mansion with the knowledge of the vile torture (that happened to your love) that went on inside those walls weighing so heavily on Yandarai's heart.

Karlach insists they have a drink in the Elfsong proper before going back to their rooms, all so proud of Astarion even if they'd never say it.

And then Astarion asks Yandarai if they can take a walk together. So he can show him something Important.

How could he say no to him? Even if it is just a cover to go kiss in the moonlight, Yandarai would gladly go along with any excuse.

Until they come to the Grave.

Astarion Ancunin. 

Only thirty-nine years.

Yandarai isnt sure how old he is, since the Feywild moves at whatever pace it feels like. He could have been born 1000 of Faerun’s years ago, or the day before he stepped through the portal out of his home realm and right into the mind flayer attack. But he Knows that thirty nine years is Nothing compared to 200 of pain and suffering and knowing you’ll never escape.

The gentle look on Astarion’s face as he carves his new death date in the stone makes Yan’s heart skip.

They kiss and hold eachother close right there, Yan whispering reassurances and praises into skin. He’d rather not be making love in the middle of a graveyard - his coat was expensive and gravedirt is so hard to wash out -  but it seems they just weren’t meant to have each other in a bed (or even inside) just yet. Frankly they could have just shared a chaste kiss and then headed back and Yan would have been ecstatic, but the trust and care and Love Astarion is showing in this moment with him, baring himself on his own grave to Yandarai is something he’ll never forget or be able to reciprocate. 

They head back and brush off what they can, trying to act casual around the others and less like they’d almost been caught by a mortarch fucking on a recently vandalised grave. As funny as it would be to see how they would talk themselves out of being shamed and kicked out, he was in far too much of a sappy mood for it to be ruined like that.  

He might be slightly possessive over the vampire spawn at times, but only in the sense that he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to him (or for anyone else to touch him or even look at him slightly funny) a little more intensely than he feels about the rest of the group.

But Astarion can look after himself just fine, and is his own man for the first time in two hundred years. He’s allowed to do what he wants! As long as he can watch and keep kissing him in the middle of exploring horrible deadly places as shadowheart makes a gagging noise and jaihera rolls her eyes at the sickening display of affection

(In another timeline where Astarion went through with the ritual, Yandarai can no longer look him in the eye after the man gives him the ultimatum, become his spawn forever and always be seen as degrading himself for the Vampire Lord or break it off and part ways once the Elder Brain is dead. The Astarion of that time is not the man he could tell he loved. Not the man who could have truly loved him back.)

The long slog of battles to gain access to the upper city is dark, the amount of bodies piling up by the minute. It’s only made bearable by the times they eat dinner together in the little pit of the room, Astarion’s thighs pressed against his own as they sit in a mound of pillows and he complains his cup is empty. 

[fantastic-mr-corvid]

Georgie's backstory NPC's

the various people and communities that are referenced as part of his backstory<3

His Father: Georgie's adoptive father is a Shepherd. Somewhat self isolated from the community, preferring to stay with his sheep than spend time socializing with everyone else. his few close friends are the Hamlet's Headwoman and Blacksmith, both of whom help him in raising and caring for Georgie. He does his best to raise Georgie, and is the start of Georgie's love of music and story's. he used to be a woodcutter and hunter, but was injured and became a Shepherd.

Hamlet Headwoman: the community leader, who made the decision to accept Georgie in to the community when she first learned of him. Her husband was the previous leader, but died from illness due to trying to appeal in person to the local nobles during a series of harsh winter, when they refused to lower the taxes and tithes despite the failing harvests. She is an excellent leader, and one who has lead the community to focus on the threats from the nobles, not whatever inner or outside enemy the nobles would rather they would focus on hating. She loves Georgie, and helped him learn his letters.

Blacksmith: A female half orc who settled in the hamlet as a retirement from combat. A fellow outsider to Georgie, she encouraged his woodcarving skills, and was a shoulder to cry on as they both struggled to be accepted by the community. She has a close relationship with the Headwoman.

The Hamlet: in general, while Georgie was seen as a baby as 'cursed' and 'a bringer of bad luck', over time almost everyone came to love him, his hard work and joy for life winning them over eventually, but the doesn't mean their rejection and hate never left scars.

Birth Parents: Presumably the people who abandoned him were traveling through the Hamlet, abandoning him in the woods, wood which contained chaotic and evil fey creatures the villagers sacrificed sheep to in exchange for protection: creatures that all travelers are warned about the dangers of. Georgie has no desire to learn more about them, viewing them as people who couldn't handle the shame of birthing a demon-spawn, and depending on his mood, cowards who believed the superstitions, nobles who wanted to hide their sins, or a mother who wanted her child to live and a father, family or environment that would kill him. if they did appear, they would have to get through the entire community to reach him, as even when he was feared, many of the parents had thoughts about abandoning a child.

Local Fey Creatures: the nearby wood houses a group of fey mites, who previously took an un-negotiated tithe of sheep and other livestock instead of attacking the hamlet, however Georgies affinity for chaos and natural magic meant he was able to formalize the deal, meaning the community could pick what animals to send in exchange for the Mites to protect them from raiders and monsters.

The Traveling Performers: a musical group that regularly performed in the hamlet as part of their tour, and the group that encouraged Georgies love of music and want to travel.

His [ex] Boyfriend: a half elf traveling performer who got Georgie his first fiddle, one that was going to be thrown out for not being show-worthy anymore, after seeing his longing stars at the instrument. A devout follower of Desna, and someone who loves Georgie dearly, he saw him regularly as they were both growing up, with him traveling with and being raised by the above group of performers. after he conspired with the village to encourage Georgie to pursue his dreams of traveling, their friendship evolved into a romantic relationship, and he also converted a Georgie who was struggling with his worship of Erastil and his lawful aspects. Eventually Georgie wanted to travel further a field and they fondly parted ways, both still treasuring the love they have for each other, romantic or not.

[onyxbird]

@faorism, I am playing a custom The Dark Urge (half-elf rogue). I think rogue suits my play style well (i.e., sneak around and strike from hiding as much as possible), but also probably resulted in my traumatizing myself during early gameplay when I immediately picked a lock into an area that I likely was expected to have a little more combat experience/backup before getting into and then innocently clicked a button that released enemies I was completely unprepared to handle. (Poor game design, really--obviously the entire reason locks exist is to give my rogue something to pick. 😝)

I am not currently romancing anyone, although I am cautiously optimistic about seeing where things go with Karlach (especially after someone mentioned that you can romance her without sex). Wyll is also appealing. I am starting to think I may be underusing long rests and thus moving slow on some of the relationship-building and story-advancing stuff, since it seems like I'm constantly finding enough supplies to camp way more often, but the story also claims urgency, so I keep trying to get as much done as I can before letting a night pass.

Unfortunately, I made the mistake of picking a dialog option with Lae'zel that I thought was a "Oh, hey, I noticed you don't seem to totally loathe me anymore. Glad to see that" (you know, commenting on advancing towards being friends) and actually ended up causing her to be uncomfortably specific about what she wanted to do with me, coming right before the evening (party with the tieflings) where it seemed like half my companions were suddenly trying to put the moves on me. ...I panicked. Did end up having a magic lesson with Gale (which I again didn't realize was heading towards romance until I had already gotten too deep into that line of conversation), but I'm pretty sure I ended up indicating to him that I was interested only in friendship rather than romance.

I do hope there are good friendship developments that aren't romance-locked, because I would love to hang out and listen to Gale nerding out about magic or Astarion's snarky commentary, etc.--I'd just rather do it platonically. (I'm also thinking trying the romance options may be more appealing if I replay with an Origin character, so that it's a character with a distinct personality not determined by me--Val isn't designed to resemble myself, but he is a completely custom character built entirely around my preferences, so it feels just a little too personal when, e.g., Lae'zel announces her desire to jump "my" bones.)

So I've been playing Baldur's Gate 3 for the first time, and it's my first experience actually playing any version of D&D. I played a different TTRPG with fairly similar mechanics for a while (years ago), but my knowledge of D&D itself comes primarily from pop-culture osmosis, Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves, and the portion of Critical Role C1 I've watched to date.

Today in BG3, I was delighted to run across 1) references to the Harpers, which I'd only ever heard of in Honor Among Thieves, and 2) mimics, which I've heard of in more places and were... less fun to encounter, although still cool to see in the game. That got me wondering what the next encounter that makes me go "Hey! It's that thing!!!" will be, and...

Y'all, if this game includes a displacer beast, and they're anywhere near as pretty as they are in the movie, my party is going to die. Hopefully I'll have a recent save before I am compelled to try to pet any murder kitties.

[redbootsindoriath]

begging you to elaborate on autistic beleg and autistic túrin!!

Bro thanks so much for asking because I’ve been sitting on these thoughts for years.  And now I have to dig up the list.  I’m just glad I wrote it down, and thankfully @frodo-with-glasses is also visiting and could help me remember what I forgot to include.  Brace yourself because this post is going to get long.  Seriously.  I even left out any headcanons and just stuck with what evidence I have from the source material.

We’re going to start out with the obvious: Túrin.  And I say obvious because I have seen one other post talking about how he comes across as autistic, and his traits are more obvious (especially in the more well-known Silmarillion as opposed to other versions of the story).

Clearly he’s quite bright, especially as a strategist (it’s mainly the CurseTM that turns his plans into a bad thing whenever it’s least convenient), but a significant number of fans describe him, sometimes affectionately and sometimes not, as stupid.  This is probably because he’s completely blind to many social cues.  One of our first examples is him never noticing how interested Nellas was in him (whether romantically or platonically I’ve never been able to figure out).

Coming suddenly out of thought [Túrin] looked at Beleg, and said: 'The elf-maiden that you named, though I forget how: I owe her well for her timely witness; yet I cannot recall her. Why did she watch my ways?' Then Beleg looked strangely at him. 'Why indeed?' he said. 'Túrin, have you lived always with your heart and half your mind far away? As a boy you used to walk with Nellas in the woods.' The Children of Húrin, chapter VI

Another example is how he completely missed the fact that Finduilas loved him and he continued shipping Gwinduilas.  (Also note the uncomfortable miscommunication between an autistic character and allistic character in this section.  Both of them assume the other is just being difficult for some reason.)

Afterwards Túrin sought out Gwindor, and said to him: 'Gwindor, dear friend, you are falling back into sadness; do not so! For your healing will come in the houses of your kin, and in the light of Finduilas.' Then Gwindor stared at Túrin, but he said nothing, and his face was clouded. 'Why do you look upon me so?' said Túrin. 'Often your eyes have gazed at me strangely of late. How have I grieved you? I have opposed your counsels; but a man must speak as he sees, nor hide the truth that he believes, for any private cause. I would that we were one in mind; for to you I owe a great debt, and I shall not forget it.' 'Will you not?' said Gwindor. 'Nonetheless your deeds and your counsels have changed my home and my kin. Your shadow lies upon them. Why should I be glad, who have lost all to you?' Túrin did not understand these words, and did but guess that Gwindor begrudged him his place in the heart and counsels of the King. The Children of Húrin, chapter X

There’s more of this in larger amounts in how he dealt with Mîm and Saeros.  He was friends with Mîm until Beleg came back and then he practically ignored Mîm, albeit unintentionally, and somehow didn’t see how betrayed the dwarf felt as a result of that.  Túrin ignored Saeros’s bullying until he couldn’t take it anymore and then he lashed out in a spectacularly disastrous and emotional manner that somehow nobody (except Mablung) saw coming.  I should point out that time that he missed the fact that he’d accidentally taken Saeros’s seat at that one banquet, and immediately afterward completely missed the fact that Saeros was trying to make a snide remark about it:

'Seldom does the march-warden favour us with his company,' [Saeros] said; 'and I gladly yield my accustomed seat for the chance of speech with him.' But Túrin, who was in converse with Mablung the Hunter, did not rise, and said only a curt 'I thank you'. The Children of Húrin, chapter V

On a somewhat similar note to his social awkwardness, he forms very few deep friendships.  When they are deep they're very deep, but most of the rest of the people in his life seem to be just casual acquaintances.  He likes them, but he doesn’t have a deep bond of trust and love with them.  He has his categories of “people I like”,  “people I don’t like”, and “heckin frickin friends that I love with all my heart and soul and I will tell my secrets to”.

His moral system is very black and white.  He may draw the line in weird places, but he has a definite line that cannot be crossed.  We actually get an example of him moving this very clear line:

'At least my hands shall not again be raised against Elves or Men,' said Túrin. 'Angband has servants enough. If others will not take this vow with me, I will walk alone.' Children of Húrin, chapter VI

Notice there’s no “I’ll kill bad humans and bad elves” here.  It’s “nope, no more humans or elves”.  Black and white.

He’s not much good with understanding figurative or flowery language.  Again, quite early on in Children of Húrin there are multiple examples of him going to his friend Labadal and asking him to explain something that Húrin or Morwen had said.  He’s a very intelligent child, but figures of speech are not his strong suit.  Of course, as he grows up he tries to overcorrect this by employing some probably-artificially-learned circumlocution, with varying degrees of success.

He has extremely obvious hyperfixations, and he excels in those skills he does have.  If he doesn’t like doing something, he doesn’t bother with it.  But if he does like doing it, he completely dominates at it.

One only was mightier in arms among the march-wardens of Thingol at that time than Túrin... Children of Húrin, chapter V Led by signs that [Beleg] could read, or by the rumour of the passing of Men among the wild things with whom he could speak, he came often near, but always their lair was deserted when he came to it; for they kept a watch about them by day and night, and at any rumour of approach they were swiftly up and away. 'Alas!' he cried. 'Too well did I teach this child of Men craft in wood and field! An Elvish band almost one might think this to be.' Children of Húrin, chapter VI

A human--and a young one at that--doing better than elves at the things elves are supposed to be best at?  It smacks of the savant stereotype, except with tragedy to balance it.

Some other things--his lax habits about hygiene, his stubbornness, his obsession over single tasks or ideas--don’t really need explaining, I think.  They’re in the Silmarillion so most people are familiar with them.  There are, however, three more specific things that I’m rather undecided on but I’m going to mention them anyway.  First, he’s clumsy when it comes to very fine motor control.  You could attribute some of this to the curse, but it could also just be him being, well, clumsy.

...in crafts of making he had less skill, for he was slow to learn his own strength, and often marred what he made with some sudden stroke. Children of Húrin, chapter V

He has some minor selective mutism.  There are a few times it’s mentioned, but it’s right off the bat in Children of Húrin, literally in the first chapter.

...he was not merry, and spoke little, though he learned to speak early and ever seemed older than his years. Children of Húrin, chapter I

You’ll excuse my pointing out that this hints at Asperger’s specifically: no speech delay.  I know it’s not a commonly accepted subcategory anymore, but it’s a very specific detail and I like those.  Also I feel obligated to include this bit as well:

But courage and strength were renewed in the Elf of Nargothrond, and departing from Taur-nu-Fuin he led Túrin far away. Never once as they wandered together on long and grievous paths did Túrin speak... Children of Húrin, chapter IX

That’s months of silence.  I know it’s because of trauma, but still.  I had to include it.

And finally, he’s extremely sensitive.  I almost didn’t include this one in my list because it isn’t in itself a guaranteed sign of autism, but it’s pretty common as a comorbid symptom.  There are many examples of his emotional sensitivity and quick temper throughout all the versions of the story, so I’m just picking one:

...but [the outlaws] feared him, because of his sudden angers, which they seldom understood. Children of Húrin, chapter VI

Note again the difficulty in communication.  All in all, I think Tolkien wrote Túrin this way on purpose.  He may not have had a word to describe it, but he made a character with too many autistic traits for me to ignore.

Now!  On to Beleg.

The traits that make me suspect Beleg as autistic are much more subtle, but if you’re looking for them you start seeing them everywhere.  Also many of them are in the Lay of the Children of Húrin, which probably explains why not many people noticed them because that thing can be difficult to unravel compared to the other versions of the story.

Right off the bat, we know that Beleg does whatever the heck he wants and nobody can stop him.  I’ve seen a quote floating around on almost every Wiki article about Beleg that says that he followed no man and could not be restrained.  (If anyone can tell me the source for that, I will draw Beleg for you, because it certainly matches what we know about him but I like the precision of knowing the source material in case anyone challenges it.)  While this isn’t exclusively an autistic trait, it is common enough that I thought it deserved to be included.  Beleg also lives in the woods and only comes around Menegroth when he’s good and ready.  Again, not exclusively autistic, but this casually asocial attitude was one of the first things that roused my suspicions about him.  Heck, according to the Lay he’s especially unsocial.

It was Beleg the hunter, who farthest fared     of his folk abroad ahunting by hill     and hollow valley, who cared not for concourse     and commerce of men. The Lay of the Children of Húrin, I: Túrin’s Fostering

In the Lay, “Men” is capitalized if it’s meant to be translated as “humans”.  Note that it’s not capitalized in that passage.  I’m also going to address this next line before moving on because I know someone is going to point it out if I don’t:

Then Beleg departed from Menegroth and went back to the north-marches, where he had his lodges, and many friends... Children of Húrin, chapter VI

He may have “many friends” among the march-wardens, but he doesn’t spend all of his time with them.  In fact, most of the times we meet him he’s alone.  You can have a decently sized friend group without being around them all the time, especially if you’re immortal.

Now, on to his skill set: elves are supposed to be either healers or hunters/warriors.  Beleg really went “watch me do it anyway” because:

And the Eldar deemed that the dealing of death, even when lawful or under necessity, diminished the power of healing.... On the other hand many elven-men were great healers and skilled in the lore of living bodies, though such men abstained from hunting, and went not to war until the last need. Of the Laws and Customs Among the Eldar

Only one was there     in war greater, higher in honour     in the hearts of Elves, than Túrin son of Húrin     untamed in war -- even the huntsman Beleg     of the Hidden People, the son of the wilderness     who wist no sire (to bend whose bow     of the black yew-tree had none of the might),     unmatched in knowledge of the wood's secrets     and the weary hills. The Lay of the Children of Húrin, I: Túrin’s Fostering

Now was it that it came into the heart of Beleg the hunter of the Elves to seek after Túrin so soon as his own hurts were healed. This being done in no great number of days, for he had a skill of healing... Book of Lost Tales part II, Turambar and the Foaloke

Now Beleg was sorely wounded, but he was mighty among the Elves of Middle-earth, and he was moreover a master of healing. Therefore he did not die, and slowly his strength returned. The Silmarillion, Of Túrin Turambar

Talk all you want about older notes being cancelled out by newer notes, I’m still taking this as another subtle hint at Beleg being autistic.

Hyperfixation.  Extreme hyperfixation.  When he’s bent on something, there’s nothing anyone can do to distract him.  This is a focus that’s been honed by all the practice an older-than-the-sun-and-the-moon lifespan can afford.

Many messengers had been sent out by Thingol to seek Túrin within Doriath and in the lands near its borders; but in the year of his flight they searched for him in vain, for none knew or could guess that he was with the outlaws and enemies of Men. When winter came on they returned to the King, save Beleg only. After all others had departed still he went on alone. Children of Húrin, chapter VI

Beleg also thinks in black and white, even more so than Túrin at times.

'Fare free,' said Túrin. 'That wish Mablung gave me at our parting. The grace of Thingol will not stretch to receive these companions of my fall, I think; but I will not part with them now, if they do not wish to part with me. I love them in my way, even the worst a little. They are of my own kind, and there is some good in each that might grow. I think that they will stand by me.' 'You see with other eyes than mine,' said Beleg. 'If you try to wean them from evil, they will fail you. I doubt them, and one most of all.' 'How shall an Elf judge of Men?' said Túrin. 'As he judges of all deeds, by whomsoever done,' answered Beleg... Children of Húrin, chapter VI

His conversational skills are a bit lacking, although less obviously so than Túrin’s.  He swings back and forth between being overly blunt and being overly cryptic.  As with Túrin, he might be trying to adjust for a natural lack of subtlety and accidentally overshooting it.  He also seems to have a habit of dominating--or at least trying to dominate--any conversation he’s in.  The most obvious example I can think of was when he showed up late to Túrin’s trial and literally pressures Elu Thingol himself into accepting Nellas as a witness.

Then there was silence in the hall, and Thingol lifted up his hand to pronounce his doom. But at that moment Beleg entered in haste, and cried: 'Lord, may I yet speak?' 'You come late,' said Thingol. 'Were you not bidden with the others?' 'Truly, lord,' answered Beleg, 'but I was delayed; I sought for one whom I knew. Now I bring at last a witness who should be heard, ere your doom falls.' 'All were summoned who had aught to tell,' said the King. 'What can he tell now of more weight than those to whom I have listened?' 'You shall judge when you have heard,' said Beleg. 'Grant this to me, if I have ever deserved your grace.' 'To you I grant it,' said Thingol. Children of Húrin, chapter V

Bear with me because we’re getting close to the end of the list, but I saved the clues that I found most interesting for last.  Beleg is at any given moment either the most calm and collected character you can imagine, or wildly excitable, and there is no in-between.  Anyone who’s read the Silmarillion knows how stable Beleg can be sometimes, but here:

Then up sprang Beleg: 'That our vaunt and our vows     be not vain for ever, evern such as they swore,     those seven chieftains, an oath let us swear     that is unchanging as Tain-Gwethil's     towering mountain!' Their blades were bared,    as blood shining in the flame of the fires     while they flashed and touched. As with one man's voice     the words were spoken, and the oath uttered     that must unrecalled abide for ever,     a bond of truth and friendship in arms,     and faith in peril. The Lay of the Children of Húrin, II: Beleg

He really suggested the Gaurwaith swear an oath of loyalty like the Fëanorians.  That’s a special breed of chaos.  Not to mention the whole manic monologue he went off with to Flinding (Gwindor) later on in that chapter of the Lay.  All it takes is a single suggestion to send him from 0 to 100000, as long as it’s something he’s interested in.

Now this leads me to my favorite piece of evidence for an autistic Beleg: a surprising inability, especially for an elf, to gauge the volume of his own voice in a moment of excitement.

In eager anger     then up sprang Beleg, crying and calling,     careless of Flinding: 'O Túrin, Túrin,    my troth-brother, to the brazen bonds     shall I abandon thee, and the darkling doors     of the Deeps of Hell?' 'Thou wilt join his journey     to the jaws of sorrow, O bowman crazéd,     if thy bellowing cry to the Orcs should come...' The Lay of the Children of Húrin, II: Beleg

(This is only a small side note, and really doesn’t hold up on its own, but Beleg has dogs.  Animals are a common enough autistic special interest that I thought I might as well mention it, especially when we remember that he can communicate with some animals.)

Now enough of the individual traits. When we look at the two characters together, we can of course contrast the old-autistic and young-autistic differences.  Beleg literally does whatever he wants and people have just learned not to bother trying to change his mind.  He doesn’t bother trying to fit into everyone else’s world but rather runs along perfectly content in his own parallel reality.  Túrin, on the other hand, is stressed, frustrated, and confused both by himself and by everyone else, and he spends most of his life trying to figure out where and how he’s meant to fit in.  But I’d also like to mention that of Túrin’s friends in the whole story, Beleg is the one who has the least miscommunication (although when there is miscommunication it’s spectacularly bad, insert obligatory dark humor here, yada yada).  They may talk in rather dated syntax, but they are able to communicate what is needed when it’s needed.  They’re both blunt and they trust each other enough to take a verbal blow without grudging it afterwards.

'I would lead my own men, and make war in my own way,' Túrin answered. 'But in this at least my heart is changed: I repent every stroke save those dealt against the Enemy of Men and Elves. And above all else I would have you beside me. Stay with me!' 'If I stayed beside you, love would lead me, not wisdom,' said Beleg. 'My heart warns me that we should return to Doriath. Elsewhere a shadow lies before us.' 'Nonetheless, I will not go there,' said Túrin. 'Alas!' said Beleg. 'But as a fond father who grants his son's desire against his own foresight, I yield to your will. At your asking, I will stay.' 'That is well indeed!' said Túrin. Children of Húrin, chapter VI

For being in a book packed with flowery dialogue, their conversations tend to be rather to-the-point.  There’s no small talk, everything that they discuss is pertinent to the current situation.  And Túrin, who is not particularly well-known for listening to anyone’s advice at any time for any reason, seems to respect and appreciate Beleg’s bluntness even to the point of saying this immediately after Beleg called him out on a particularly stupid comment:

Túrin's eyes glinted, but as he looked in Beleg's face the fire in them died, and they went grey, and he said in a voice hardly to be heard: 'I wonder, friend, that you deign to come back to such a churl. From you I will take whatever you give, even rebuke. Henceforward you shall counsel me in all ways, save the road to Doriath only.' Children of Húrin, chapter VII

They’re both stubborn and they’ve found a way to work around it because they know that there are no subtle background messages to what the other is saying.

And, of course, to close, I’d like to point out that autistics tend to find each other because they feel understood in a world that is as foreign as a different world.  Perhaps Túrin, coming to a kingdom of people who aren’t even of the same race as his own, found solace in someone who understood the way his mind worked without having to explain anything, and that someone was Beleg.  Never before had he known anyone who so instinctively understood the way his mind worked; and Beleg, thousands of years old, alone even in a realm filled with his own people, found in a human child a sense of purpose and validation that he’d not even known he was missing his whole life, and chose a mortal as his closest friend.

TLDR, there is no TLDR.  I’ve way overthought this and as a result I’m not sure how to summarize it.

If I think of anything I missed in my essay here, I’ll add it later in the comments or a reblog or something.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 125.4: Accidental Bonding (Part Four)

(You can start at Part One, if you’d like.)

"Come on," Harry begged, the following Friday. "Please come to dinner." The bond had only seemed to strengthen in the past eighteen days and Harry found his mind turning to thoughts of Draco almost constantly whether they were together or apart.

And touching the other man was almost second nature at this point. They spent all day every day touching the other without thinking; they sat with their ankles pressed together under their desks, hands brushed against shoulders and backs as they walked past each other, they frequently held hands without even talking about it first, and Harry couldn't remember the last time that he'd woken up without being wrapped around Draco's body or vice versa. Yes, the bond wasn't showing any signs of weakening.

"Your friends hate me, Potter," Draco reminded him as he pulled a wine glass down out of the cupboard.

Harry sighed, "But they wouldn't if they got to know you."

Draco leveled him with a glare, the kind that Harry had learned to recognize as a shield of sorts that the other man used when he was feeling insecure. "They have good reason to hate me," he said as he filled the glass.

"Not anymore," he protested.

The other man rolled his eyes and took a large swallow of his wine.

"Come on," he said again. "If you're there no one will flirt with me."

Draco face twisted in disgust, it was unpleasant for both of them if someone touched one of them with certain intentions.

"If they're rude, you can leave right away," he added.

"What's in it for me?" Draco asked.

He thought for a moment, "A foot rub," he offered, remembering the night that Draco had drunkenly been complaining that his feet hurt and Harry had drunkenly offered a foot rub. There'd been something immensely satisfying about it, he assumed it was something to do with the bond and not with the look of rapturous delight on Draco's face.

(Read more below the cut)

Draco's eyes narrowed, "And I can leave immediately if they're unkind."

"Yes."

"And you'll give me a long foot massage?"

He laughed, "Yes."

"Fine."

Harry grinned at him. "Excellent. Let's go then, they're meeting us at The Night Owl."

"How did you know I'd say yes?" he asked, looking affronted.

"I didn't," Harry lied, even he'd had a strong suspicion he could convince the other man. "They could eat there without us if you didn't want to go."

He didn't seem entirely convinced but he allowed Harry to take his elbow and he apparated them to the apparition point closest to The Night Owl.

Ron and Hermione were already sitting at a booth when they arrived, and Harry slid his fingers through Draco's as he headed over. "Hey," he greeted brightly.

His best friends both looked up, smiling at Harry before doing a double take when they saw Draco standing there beside him.

"Malfoy," Hermione said, eyebrows lifting. "What a surprise!" she said, glancing at Harry.

He could feel Draco's nervousness like it was a tangible thing. "Yeah," Harry said, widening his eyes meaningfully at her, "I told you he might be coming."

"Yeah," Ron said, "But we didn't think he actually would."

"Well," Draco said, detaching his hand from Harry's, "This has been fun but I'm going to-"

"No," Harry said, turning toward him and grabbing his hand again, "It's fine," he said, glaring at his friends, who he had told to be on their best behavior and to just give the other man a chance.

"Yes," Hermione piped up. "Stay, please. We were just surprised."

Draco looked at Harry for a long moment, obviously arguing with himself before nodding once and sliding into the booth.

Harry slid in next to him, the first (and hopefully largest) hurdle out of the way.

------------------

Dinner went surprisingly well. Hermione and Ron obviously struggled a bit but Harry had asked them to give him a chance and they seemed to be trying.

Everyone seemed to relax a bit once they'd had a few drinks and when Draco got up to use the loo, Harry turned to his friends, "So?" he said eagerly, "He's different, right?"

Ron and Hermione looked at each other before Hermione said carefully, "I think it's too soon for me to tell."

"Yeah, mate," Ron agreed, "I know you've always had that thing for Malfoy but," he shrugged, "it's hard to know what's real and what's an act."

"You do know that he like cut ties from his parents, right?" Harry asked incredulously, "he believes that all of that pureblood nonsense is garbage."

"Does he though?" Hermione asked, "Or is that just what it behooves him to have you believe?"

"He lives in a tiny flat!" he protested. "He said that he was so compelled by your arguments about house elves that he couldn't bring himself to have one for his flat."

"Are you sure?" Ron asked, "Or does he just hide it from you? House elves are wicked good at magic."

"He knows how to cook," Harry said, "From scratch. And he knows cleaning spells," he added. "Why would he have to know cleaning spells?"

Hermione looked at him thoughtfully, "Maybe you're right-"

"Just give him a chance," he said. "You won't-"

"Better talk about something else," Ron interrupted, "He's headed this way."

"Well, I tried to get Lugnok to speak with me about the discrimination that Goblins have been facing for ages in the wizarding community, but he wasn't very forthcoming," Hermione started as Draco slid into the booth once again.

"Oh," Draco said as he pressed his shoulder against Harry's and they both relaxed into the pleasant hum thrumming through the bodies, beginning at their shoulders and radiating outward. "I read the last article that you published in The Daily Dilemma," he said excitedly. "It was fascinating," he added.

"Really?" Hermione asked, sounding surprised.

He nodded, "I always wanted to learn more about Goblin magic but good information is so hard to find. When I was young, I'd hoped that it was something they'd teach at Hogwarts-"

"Yes!" Hermione agreed emphatically. "I have been trying to convince Minerva of that for years."

"We don't know nearly enough about magic that other beings possess and honestly," he said, lowering his voice slightly, "I don't know why any other magical being puts up with us. I can't understand it." He shook his head, "I mean for all intents and purposes, their magic is stronger than ours and they've got better control of it. A house elf, for example," he said, "when they want to apparate somewhere it's just a snap of the fingers. And their blind apparation is loads better than ours," he shook his head, "And that's just one spell."

Hermione nodded, "It's never made sense to me."

Draco swallowed, "I'm sorry about that, by the way," he said, not quite meeting her eye, "for making fun of your organization." Then his mouth twisted, "For a lot of things, really," he continued. "Many that were worse than that."

"Thank you," Hermione said after a moment. "I appreciate your apology."

He nodded once. "You probably know this already, but Henri Laurence is a real advocate for changing the way we treat other magical beings. He could probably help your causes."

"Who?" she asked, brows furrowing as she tried to place the name.

"Henri Laurence," he repeated.

She shook her head, "I'm not familiar with that name."

"He works in transportation," Draco replied.

"Why would I talk to someone in transportation?"

He gave her a wry smile, "Henri works closely with a lot of department heads to schedule their trips. He's very amiable and everyone loves him," he added. "More than one political career has risen and fallen by his words. He also works with the Minister quite a bit, the Minister is quite fond of him."

"I never would have thought to start there. Thanks for the tip," she said, giving him a cautious half smile.

"Of course," Draco said automatically. "I'd be glad to give you names if you're ever wondering the best way to get things into people's ears. I'm afraid I can't do introductions, though," he said with a self depreciating laugh.

"Thank you," Hermione said, sounding genuinely grateful. "That would be so helpful."

Draco gave her a little smile and Harry felt hope bubbling merrily in his chest.

----------

As the evening drew to a natural close, Harry couldn't help but think that everything went exceptionally well.

Draco was still talking about Hermione's current project with the Goblins at Gringotts as Harry headed back toward the bedroom, Draco trailing along behind him. "It's invaluable," he said as he started to strip so he could put on his pajamas. "This research could change the way that we think about other beings. We could really have the opportunity to understand them better and then maybe we'd understand our own magic and our own limitations better."

Harry nodded, "You sound just like her. I thought you two might hit it off."

"Did you?" Draco asked curiously as he crawled into bed.

He nodded, sitting at the bottom and pulling Draco's left foot into his lap, pressing his thumbs up the curve of Draco's arch. "You're the only other person I know who likes to talk about Magic Theory."

He let out a low moan as Harry's thumbs rubbed the ball of his foot, "Potter, you are really good at that," he said, thoroughly distracted from the conversation they'd been having.

Harry laughed.

"I'm serious!" the other man protested. "If the whole saving the world, one idiot at a time thing fails, you can go into foot massages."

Chuckling, he shook his head, "Can you imagine?"

"Yes," Draco replied, closing his eyes and settling further into the mattress, "I'd come see you every day."

"Ah, in that case," Harry teased, "maybe I should think about it."

"You do that," he said, in that distant voice that meant he wasn't listening to him anymore.

"Read something," Harry said.

The other man opened one eye to look down at Harry, "What?"

"Read me something," he said. "Grab a book off your nightstand," he said, nodding to the pile, "And read. But don't pick something boring."

Draco reached over and plucked a slender book off the nigh stand, "I think you'll like this one. He gets everything wrong but it's delightful." He cleared his throat, "In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit..."

Harry listened as he read, a smile tugging at his lips, his chest filling with warmth.

This was nice, Harry couldn't help but think. Living with someone, sharing meals with someone, having someone in your bed when you went to sleep and when you woke up. It was nice to have the sound of someone else's voice and the feeling of someone else's hand in yours.

He wondered if he'd miss it when the bond ended in twelve days.

More importantly, he wondered if Draco would miss it.

--------------

Part 3 | Part 5

[onbeinganangel]

warmup ficlet for @the-starryknight! she picked 'i know we’re not together but i might die today so i’m going to kiss you just in case there is no later' from this wee list of kisses and asked me to drarry it up and I rubbed my hands together in glee knowing fully well i was about to put together a hell of an angst sandwich

not beta'd, not edited, just angst with a happy ending directly from my heart to yours! (cw: some canon-style mentions of blood, violence, injury and also kind of patient/healer relationship)

damned if you do it and damned if you don’t

(draco/harry, 1.8k)

Draco had pictured it so often throughout his life he sometimes couldn’t honestly believe he had made it all the way to twenty-seven.

He remembers saying it after being thrown on his arse by the family Abraxan. He’d been very little, then. Five or six, maybe. He’d cried, big fat tears running down his face, and when his Mother finally managed to pull his tiny fists down and stop him from hiding his crying behind them, he’d announced, “Maman, I am dying.” She had assured him he very much wasn’t. They’d had scones with big heaped spoonfuls of clotted cream and raspberry jam in the garden and he’d soon forgotten about his fall.

A few years later, he fell off his broom and straight into the lake. Dobby had spelled him dry to avoid him getting in trouble and he was still heaving, coughing up water and panicking when he told the Elf, “Dobby, I am dying.”

Then there was the incident at Hogwarts. He still felt the sharp talons on his skin way after the hippogriff was far, far away, as he bled, holding onto the gashes on his arm and announced to the whole class, “I am dying, it’s killed me!”

Between the ages of sixteen and eighteen, it was more constant. It was the heavy burn of the Mark settling on his arm, it was the feeling of all his organs lighting up in pain and his bones breaking under Crucio after Crucio, it was the sounds of Nagini slithering outside his bedroom door at night, the sickening thud of death, the unsettling screaming, his aunt’s shrill nails-on-chalkboard voice, Greyback’s growls. A neverending chant of “I am dying, I am dying, I am dying, I am dying” inside his head.

It was confiding in a ghost, it was crying because the fear of failure was so intense he reckons he would have preferred to be dead then, it was the only person he believed was actually kind and pure and incapable of willingly inflicting pain on anyone slashing him open and leaving him for dead on a bathroom floor. Draco had looked at Snape, murmuring spell after spell over him, and he’d whispered, “I am dying.”

It was learning how to be numb, how to not feel, how to keep everyone out of his mind and away from his thoughts, it was the paralysing terror of crawling around in the shadows, the bone-deep dread of dropping leftover bread rolls on the floor by the bars on the dungeon and kicking them swiftly into the other side, where they kept his classmates. It was sneaking a blanket or two down and saying to himself, “If they find out…”

It was the persistent horror of knowing you don’t believe in what you’re doing and knowing you’re damned if you do it and damned if you don’t. Between the ages of sixteen and eighteen, Draco would lie in his bed at night — his own at home, his own in the dorms, Pansy’s in the girls’ dorms when it got bad, and he would say it to himself, hoping it would become true, “I am dying.”

But he hadn’t. Despite all odds, Draco is happy. Twenty-seven. He’s got friends, a flat, a job he loves and he’s good at. He’s no longer spat at on the streets. He survived, he made amends, he managed it all. Most of all, he had managed not to die.

Until now, that is. This time he’s pretty certain he won’t be afforded such luck. He feels the curse hit him square on the chest. It’s his own fault, really, for not realising there was someone already in the room he entered. He’d been too busy throwing a rather flourished Incarcerous across the room at the two potions dealers he’d been running after for the past five minutes to notice the third man.

Draco is falling backwards before he has time to even think about anything, his wand clanking noisily seconds before he joins it on the floor.

Then: “Incarcerous.” He hears it — muffled but there. And after, “Fuck, Draco.”

He’s way too familiar with the way his Auror partner works not to know it’s him when the strong arms wrap around him and pull him up. “Oh, Merlin,” he hears. His eyes flutter back open for a couple of seconds and he can tell he was right, even if it’s all blurry: red robes, orange hair, worried blue eyes.

Fear. “I am dying,” he thinks. “Harry,” he says.

“You’re gonna see Harry alright,” Ron says. “He’s gonna have words about having to heal you again,” it’s almost like a joke. Like a Ronald-typical joke. But there’s an edge of worry there. There’s panic. Ronald doesn’t panic.

And it dawns on him. Draco tries to look down but it’s all red. The burgundy of his robes, the sticky dark red of drying blood on his hands and the fresh and vivid blood still pouring out of his chest. He’s not gonna make it to St. Mungo’s, he’s never going to make it to Harry.

“I am dying,” he says, and Ron makes a noise that can only be described as half agony, half agreement.

It smells like St. Mungo’s when he wakes up thinking “I am dying.” Very faintly, he hears the same voice he always hears in his dreams. Maybe he is dead. The voice never sounds like this in his dreams, though: disembodied, frantic, quick. Draco catches half words, half sentences, half conversations that don’t make sense. A different voice is saying “just do it” and “you’re powerful enough” and “sod protocol” and “I am his partner, I brought him here.” The voice from his dreams responds with things like “unstable” and “I don’t know” and “can you please try” and a “I can’t get in touch with her” and “not without consent forms” and a louder, angry “he’s not going to d—“

Draco tries to move towards the voice.

“Draco!” Says the first voice and three pairs of feet come towards him.

“Don’t try to open your eyes, don’t try to talk, don’t try to move, okay? We have stopped the bleeding for now, but we’re still trying to reverse the curse.”

“Harry.” His Harry.

“Yes, hello. We have got to stop meeting like this.”

“I am dying,” Draco croaks out.

“I won’t let you.”

Draco wants to speak. He wants to say “I am dying, I don’t want to die without telling you,” but he has no strength. His thoughts are going faster than the newest Firebolt as he hears Harry tell whoever else is in the room (Ron?) to leave. He wonders if this is it. This what they show you in the films: your life flashing before your eyes right before you die. He thinks of Harry shaking his hand after his Auror graduation ceremony. “Well done, Malfoy,” he’d said. He thinks of that first time he’d been invited over to Ron and Hermione’s, a few weeks after he became Ron’s partner, and Harry had laughed at his stories, lips wine-red and plump, eyes kind like he’d never expected. He thinks of every moment of almost in between them, every moment where Draco considered blurting it out, saying what was on his mind. The Christmas Gala as he towered over Harry and fixed the little chain on his robes for him, and that night at that dingy club for Hermione’s birthday where they’d stared at each other for forty minutes and when Draco had decided he couldn’t take it anymore, he found out that Harry had left. Or just last month when they’d gone out to buy a housewarming present for Luna and ended up eating leftovers on Harry’s sofa, exhausted from people and walking. There are too many. Too many instances of hesitation, too many “nearly-but-not-quites.”

And he’ll die and won’t ever get the chance to tell him, to kiss his handsome, stupid, precious face, and it aches — it hurts almost as much as that spot just to the left of his breastbone where the Curse had hit, where he was profusely bleeding not long ago.

“Closer,” he manages, very quietly.

Harry approaches, but not close enough, not even close enough for Draco to grab at him.

“Cl— clos—uh—closer,” he tries again.

And Harry’s right there, by his bed and he looks beautiful in his Healer robes (unheard of, really) and Draco is blinking his view into a sharper focus and listing all the things he knows he loves, the things he doesn’t want to forget: the white-ish storm of a scar that slashes through Harry’s eyebrow, the shiny (shinier than usual?) green eyes, the touch of stubble, the slightly crooked nose, the lips — oh, the lips, plump and sweet looking and Draco will never get to find out just how sweet. And then, he has to do it. Because if he’s going to die anyway, he may as well use his last breath on this.

He pushes himself off the pillow slightly and his hand pulls Harry’s green robes closer until their lips meet, clumsily and hard — Harry not expecting it, Draco waning from the efforts of pulling Harry closer, but Draco will die knowing he’s kissed Harry. And if there’s no later, at least he’s done it. At least Harry knows.

“Stop. You’ll hurt yourself,” Harry says, and pushes him back down. Gently, like everything he does.

“But—“

“I know, darling. Me too.”

Darling? Harry… too?

“I’m going to heal you, okay? I’m going to heal you and we’ll do that again. I’ll take you to dinner, or brunch, I know you like brunch. Or just coffee. We’ll go to the pictures. I’ll hold your hand. We’ll go flying. We’ll go clubbing and I’ll dance with you, I promise I will, and I’ll let you tell me how bad I am. I’ll find you a copy of that book you were talking about with Hermione, no matter how much it costs. I’ll throw my name around if I have to, okay? And we’re going to do that again, properly. When I’m not your healer and you’re not hurting. I’m going to heal you now, you just—“ he stops, then, breathing wild and panicked.

Then, a small sob. A kiss to his forehead. Draco doesn’t remember closing his eyes.

“You just hold on, yeah? Don’t go anywhere.”

And Draco would cry if he had the strength, he would say yes to all those plans and more, but he focuses on the feeling of Harry’s magic sinking into his body like and he holds on, just like he was told to. He holds on, even if he doesn’t know exactly to what. And he thinks maybe he’ll get lucky again, and he’ll stop picturing himself dead like he’s been doing his whole life. Harry’s magic feels like love, like poetry, like cascading words of affection whispered into the space between his ribs, it feels like hope. And Draco holds on and thinks to himself, as loud as a thought can go, “I am not dying.”

[peach-the-owl]

Tainted Innocence

Percy & Younger Sibling!Reader

You let out a fit of coughs, being sick sucked, you couldn’t move without getting dizzy, you couldn’t join the family for dinner or else you might get someone else sick, and worst of all you couldn’t leave your room to play. So here you lay on your bed wishing to get better soon so you could play outside under the sun. A sudden commotion could be heard outside your door, shouts and screams ringing down the halls, you ever curious would’ve loved to investigate if it wasn’t for the fact that your dizzy head would make you nauseous the second you got up. The sounds only got louder until they were right outside your room, you throw the covers over your head in an attempt to hide from whatever the scary noise was. You hear your door open and try to stay as still and quiet as possible, unfortunately your hit with another fit of coughs making your presence known to whoever had entered.

"My my, what have we here?" The woman’s voice was vaguely familiar, making you peek out from under the covers to see only the darkened outline of a feminine figure. "Poor, sweet little (y/n), caught a fever have we?" The more they spoke the more you could recognize the voice as Delilah Briarwood's, you’d met her a once before and she seemed nice but now her tone sounded almost sinister for some reason.

"Yeah, I’m not feeling very well. You probably shouldn’t be here, I don’t want you to get sick too." You say innocently, before going into yet another fit of coughs. She lets out a chuckle, by now it seemed the sounds from outside your room had faded into nothing.

"How considerate of you to think of my well being. What if I were to tell you I knew a way that could… cure you of your ailments." The ominous undertones she had went right over your head.

"Really?! You can do that!?" You bounce excitedly in place, quickly stopping from the dizziness in your head.

"Not only that, but you'll never have to worry about getting sick ever again." The offer almost sounded too good to be true.

"That sounds awesome! Let’s do it!" You were brimming with excitement at the thought of never having to worry about sickness again.

"Calm down now, all will be well in due time. For now you should rest, my husband and I shall handle everything and I guarantee you’ll wake up like a brand new person." You give her a nod and are hit by a sudden wave of exhaustion. "Sleep now… my child." You don’t have time think about why she referred to you like that before your vision goes dark and your mind goes blank…

Lady Delilah was right, when you awoke again you no longer had your fever and felt completely different, but even though you did feel all better now you still weren’t allowed to leave the castle. You were only allowed to wander the wing where your room was or explore the catacombs, even then there wasn’t much you could do but that's what you were told you were allowed so you had to follow the rules. It was strange though to be told all this by the Briarwoods, wondering why it was them instead of your parents to tell you all these new rules and why one of the rules was you couldn’t see anyone else in your family. You had asked about this once but Delilah only told you that once you were ready they’d tell you everything, so time went by and you stayed alone, forced to play inside away from any sunlight, almost completely isolated from social contact. You don’t know how long it’s been, no longer having a way to tell day from night made it really hard to know how many hours or days had passed, everything just blurring together. There was one other thing that really bothered you and that was this strange sensation you’d get from time to time, it was almost like you were hungry but also not because you’d eat like normal and the feeling wouldn’t go away. You told the Briarwood's about this but Lord Sylas just told you that if you’d ignore it then it would go away by itself, what he didn’t tell you is that you’d pass out and wake up with a strange metallic-y taste in your mouth, at least the feeling went away though, right?

Another day, or what you thought might be a day, goes by as you wander the tunnels having mapped them out to memory by now. You brought some toys with you to play around with for some entertainment and hoping deep down that one day something new or different might finally happen, then you heard something faint hit your ears. It was different but at the same time it could’ve just been another rat scurrying around with how faint it was so you ignore it. There's another sound like quick footsteps approaching getting louder until it comes to a halt close to where you were playing making you glance over your shoulder at the man staring at you. He looked very familiar you just couldn’t place why right away, you turn to fully face them and have a better look.

"Hi there mister. You look familiar, do I know you?" You ask them with a slight tilt to your head. They just stare at you in silence their eyes wide in horror, you look behind you to see if they were looking at something behind you but find nothing and look back at them in confusion. "Is something wrong?" You step towards them and they step away in retaliation furthering your confusion.

"No no nononono. This isn’t real, you can’t be real." He presses his hands to his head, his voice also sounded familiar, who was he?

"You’re really weird." You then poke your arm to as a way to show you were really there, then let out a giggle. "See, I’m real, if I was fake I couldn’t poke my arm." You place your hands triumphantly on your waist but the man didn’t look impressed, instead he looked like he was going to vomit. "Are you okay? You don’t look well." You take another step towards him out of concern.

"Don’t come any closer!" He holds up a strange item you’ve never seen before, there’s a slight shake to his hand. You stop and stare interested in the strange item, it had fancy engravings on it, six hollow slots and some odd mechanism the man warily held a finger over.

"What’s that? It’s so cool and fancy, what does it do?" You lean in closer to it curiously.

"This isn’t real, you’re just an illusion to mess with my head." He sounded hesitant, like he was trying to convince himself of something. Having been able to look at the man this long it finally clicked in your head why he was so familiar.

"Wait a second… Percy?" This fully draws his attention back onto you. "It is you! What happened? How did you get so big and why's your hair all white?" He looked so different, no wonder you didn’t recognize your own brother right away. He doesn’t answer you, just stares with a look of conflict in his eyes and continues to hold the strange object in his hand towards you, you paying no mind to it. "This is great! Lord and Lady Briarwood said I wasn't allowed talk to anyone, I don’t know why though, but you’re here now so who cares! I miss talking to people, the guards are no fun and there’s hardly anything to do anymore…" You start to ramble on about how boring things have gotten and how you made due, still wondering why or how Percy got so tall and looked so much older. "Where is everyone else? I want to ask mother and father why the Briarwoods seem to be in charge." This statement really got to Percy, making his eyes go wide in realization.

"You… you don’t know?" You tilt your head in confusion, what where you supposed to know. There’s a strange wispy or smoky substance that trails up Percy's arm, then the sound of a loud bang followed by ringing fills your ears, something grazed past your cheek, cutting into it a little and leaving a lingering stinging sensation behind. You quickly place a hand on your cheek where it hurt, recoiling away only hearing a clattering and soft thud after a moment of silence. You slowly turn back and see your brother had dropped the item from his hand and was on his knees, holding his face in both his free hands now, his entire body physically shaking and he lets out a series of coughs.

"P-Percy? Are you okay?" You approach with much more caution this time, trying to ignore the throbbing pain still in your cheek. More footsteps can be heard hurrying towards your location.

"We heard gunfire and came as fast as we could." A half-elven man was the first to reach your location, he looks over seeing you and takes a step back in surprise.

"Hi there, are you a friend of Percy's?" You ask, rocking back and forth on your feet.

"I am. Did you do this to him?" There was a threatening tone to his voice that made you feel scared and uncomfortable.

"I don’t know, I was just playing because I was bored, then he showed up and I didn’t recognize him at first, then I did and got really excited because I haven’t seen anyone in what feels like forever, then there was a loud bang and now my cheek hurts and he was just like this." You try to explain as best as you could. By now others who were most likely with the half-elf showed up, having heard at least some of your explanation, they looked at you with wide eyes. "And why does everyone look at me like that, is there something wrong with my face or something?"

"That’s one way to put it." A half-elven woman who looked very similar to the male one talks slowly. "Do you mind telling us your name little one?"

"Of course! I’m (y/n) de Rolo." You reply proudly.

"You’re a de Rolo?" The glowing gnome sounded sad for some reason, why was everyone sad? Shouldn’t this be a good thing?

"Yeah… why are you all acting so weird? What’s going on? Who are you?" You cross your arms, getting a little frustrated from your lack of answers, just wanting to be in the know. They whisper among themselves, you barely catchy anything coherent before they turn back to face you.

"Do you mind giving us a minute alone, please." Percy having finally gotten a better hold of himself asks, you give a small nod and step away, picking up your discarded toys to mindlessly play with. You discovered if your really focused you could hear what they were whispering about, though it was hard to decipher who’s voice belonged to who.

"Is it true? Are they really your…"

"I-I’m not sure anymore." You were able to at least tell your brothers voice apart from the others.

"How could you not know!?"

"They seem pretty clueless themselves, it’s like they not only still have the body of a child but also the mentality of one too."

"Perhaps that’s from the lack of social contact, they did say they’ve been alone for a long time."

"Percy… this changes everything we know."

"No, this changes nothing, it only makes it more complicated."

"How can you say something like that, they’re your family!"

"They’ve been turned into a monster, whether they’re aware of it or not!" You frown when you hear this tuning out the rest of their conversation, that couldn’t be right you’re not a monster, sure things were weird and you’ve felt different since your illness was cured but that didn’t make you a monster… did it? You sit aback and look yourself over, holding out your arms in the dim lighting which you now realized you could see rather well in, you always thought that was just because you were so used to coming down here that your eyes adjusted quickly, but now you didn’t know anymore. Focusing back on your arms you also notice that your skin was extremely pale then what it normally was. When was the last time you’d seen yourself in a mirror? You’ve passed some in the halls of the castle but never payed much mind to them, and now that you thought about it when was the last time you’d seen the sunshine? You really missed playing outside but always just followed the rules the Briarwood's gave you because they were the grownups and they knew what was best, right? The sound of footsteps coming back your way slightly pull you from your thoughts, but you don’t bother looking up and just stare at the ground in front of you. You hear a shaky sigh but before they can speak you beat them to it.

"There’s something wrong with me, isn’t there." Your blissful joy was gone, replaced with doubt and sadness.

"I-how much did you hear?" Percy's voice wasn’t as angry sounding as it was earlier but there was still tension in it.

"I don’t know, you said something about me being a monster. I thought you were just saying that because you were angry for some reason, but I don’t know anymore. Am-am I really a monster?" You turn and look up at him seeing him flinch slightly, but not quite intentionally. Your lip quivers as you shrink more into yourself. "When we used to play pretend the monsters were always the bad guys… I don’t want to be a bad guy." You whimper and tears start trailing down your face as you try to hide in your arms.

"I didn’t… you’re not… it’s just…" He lets out a long breath followed by a cough and a longer pause. "(Y/n) look at me…" another pause, you don’t move. "Hey, look at me." You feel warm hands pry your face up to make you look at your brother, now you were the one to slightly flinch from the slight sting that was still on your cheek. The two of you have a small staring contest before he speaks up again. "Listen carefully, things are no longer the way you remember them to be, a lot has changed for the worst and for some reason or another you’ve been left to be blissfully unaware of all of it. I don’t know why they decided to do this to you, but I swear we'll figure this out together one step at a time."

"We will?" You give him a hopeful look, he nods slowly

"I hope so… I don’t know who I can all trust here anymore. Things are stressful right now, but if you don’t want to be a part of the bad guys, as you put it, my friends and I are going to need your help. Can you do that, can I really trust you?"

"Yes! I want to help my brother stop the bad guys." You put on your most serious look, Percy then releases his hold on you and you stand up. "Hey Percy?" He lets out a slight hum of acknowledgement. "When we're all done, does that mean I’ll be able to play outside in the sun again?"

"One step at time…" He trails off with a somber sigh. The two of you now heading over to rejoin Percy's group so you could be properly introduced.

Should I continue something with this for a part 2?… or just leave it as is…? Idk, you tell me

[creative-type]

a still, small voice

AN: Wrote this in December when I was hit with some dark and angsties and never got around to posting here. Probably because I was annoyed that I’d forgotten pre-canon Thistle’s name would not be Thistle until after I’d finished and had to go back and edit the whole thing. Can also be found on ao3 if you prefer reading there 

.

Violet didn’t know where she was going, but she ran anyway.

Bare feet pounded against the hard, frozen ground—there hadn’t been time to find her boots. Her shirt, half pulled over her head in a vain effort to hide her face. Tears streamed from the corners of her eyes and her heart thudded in panicked rhythm.

Wrong, wrong, wrong. She was all wrong.

The only good thing was that it was dark, and her pursuers were human. With a new moon and an overcast sky, Violet was able to sprint across an open field into a thin strip of timber that acted as the boundary between one farm and the next before the mob could light its torches.

Of course, only monsters and beasts could see in the pitch black night. Even if one could look past the claws and teeth, her eyes were proof enough to show that she belonged in the shadows like some dark, creeping thing.

Violet tried to push the thought away as she gasped for breath, her back pressed against the trunk of a tree. She didn’t have to look to know it was elm, the life she felt under her clawed fingers muted in the winter cold. Even the trees had their chance to sleep. So why couldn’t she find rest?

And what have you done to earn such a luxury, you ungrateful brat?

Violet clutched her head with her hands, shrinking down as her knees threatened to buckle beneath her. She needed to think, needed to move. She was not safe here. She wasn’t safe anywhere, but it was especially true now. The farmer who owned the barn she’d spent the last week calling home would soon raise his neighbors. Depending on how much he hated her, he might even send a message to town. As she wiped the tears from her cheeks, Violet remembered that he’d had dogs.

Frigid air made the teartracks sting. There was no snow on the ground, but it was cold, and she’d left her shoes behind like an idiot. Without a good disguise or money she’d be forced to steal, proving once again her duplicitous, criminal nature.

But she could only do that if she lived through the night. Violet was terrified to leave the cover of the wood, but the sound of baying dogs made that choice for her.

Bending low, Violet whispered the spell that would hide her tracks and scent. Assuming the farmer and his friends didn’t have any spells of their own, it would confuse the dogs long enough for her to escape, provided that she didn’t leave behind any damning evidence. As Violet moved, branches and shrub brush instinctively pulled away, letting her pass without scratching her face or pulling at her clothes.

Too soon she was in the open again, the wind cutting through her layers. Violet didn’t dare call on her magic to warm herself—heat too often brought light, and she wasn’t practiced enough to call one without the other.

For a moment, helplessness almost swallowed her whole. Violet knew she needed shelter, but there was no safe place for her to go. Even the environment was hostile and unwelcoming, the magic of spring and growth unsuited for the barren fields and cold, unfeeling winter.

There was something almost ironic at the thought of dying of exposure to the elements after the exposure of her true nature, but Violet didn’t have time for morbid self-deprecation. She took the only path available—forward—crossing a plot of uncut pasture until she reached a small creek bed. It wasn’t quite cold enough for the water to freeze, and she followed its winding path until it ended in a small pond meant for cattle and horses.

The pond marked the end of Violet’s knowledge of the local countryside. Everything that lay behind was unknown, and therefore frightening. She paused a moment to listen, extending her magical senses.

Relief washed over Violet when she realized she was alone. That relief quickly turned into dread that settled like lead in the pit of her stomach.

There was no one she could count on but herself. And the voice whispering in the back of her mind made it very clear that she was not up to that task.

Swallowing hard, Violet ripped two pieces of cloth from her shirt to wrap around her feet and took her first step into the unknown. The nauseating buzz of apprehension and anxiety pushed her forward another step, and then another and another, until she was almost running. Violet’s lungs burned with the cold even as her face flushed hot, sweat rapidly cooling at her neck and temples.

She alternated walking with running to preserve energy. Every once in a while she would stop at a strip of timber, try to orient herself without the guidance of the moon or stars. A cave elf’s night vision wasn’t anything like how she saw during the day, and it didn’t take long for Violet to become disorientated. All she knew, all she could hope, was that she was getting away.

The fields blended with one another, some large harvested crop ground, others overgrown pasture for free range cattle. Packed dirt roads and humble homesteads were avoided like the plague, Violet moving as best she could away from any signs of civilization. Wind whispered through the grass and the trees, but beyond that was the silence of desolate emptiness. Exposed and in the open, Violet only became more aware of her own smallness.

But as the miles past and the first promise of sunrise pierced through the oppressive blackness of night, Violet knew she needed to stop. Thin cotton strips were poor protection for her aching, bleeding feet, and the cold that she’d once been able to force away was starting to seep into her bones. Everything felt heavy, from her eyelids, to her legs, to the effort it took to expand her lungs.

The acute jolt of energy that came with being discovered had long-been expelled, leaving a deeper, more primal fear that left her slow and jumpy. Hazy fog clouded the edges of her vision and thoughts dripped sluggishly from her mind like frozen syrup. Violet  forced her aching knees up one, final hill, promising herself that once she reached the other side she would stop for the night.

Only that promise made her go forward, and she wasn’t sure she’d have the strength to set up adequate shelter after she made it that far, or lay the spells that would protect her before falling asleep. At that moment she didn’t particularly care. Anything for a blessed moment of rest.  

Lazy, stupid, do you want to be found…

Violet huddled against herself as she crested the hill, unsure if she was trying to protect herself from the wind or the Echo whose voice was becoming increasingly difficult to discern from her own.

On the other side, the slope dipped gradually down to a narrow road that didn’t look like it had been used since Hym had been made a Wizard. The road, or lane, or path, or whatever it was, ended at a small, one-story building that had been white before the elements stripped it of the majority of its paint. The roof sagged inward, a young tree sprouting through the hole that might have once been a chimney.

The windows were thick with dust. From the road, no one could see in or out, and clearly no one had been inside in a long, long time.

It was the perfect hiding spot.

Violet took a moment to stare, unable to believe her own good fortune. She staggered forward, tired and hurting, not bothering to make sure that no one was coming from father up the road. Soft, predawn light edged at the horizon as Violet circled around looking for the entrance. A simple wooden door sat above two stone steps, settled under a faded sign that proclaimed the decrepit building to be Elk Chapel.

Tentatively Violet  extended her magic, but there were no protections guarding the property. When she jiggled the handle it snapped in her hands, and after years of disuse the wood had swollen in the door jamb, making it stick shut.

Growling with frustration, Violet  tried to shoulder it open, but it was no use. Angry tears pricked at the corner of her eyes as she slammed against the door with an almost childlike, impotent helplessness. It wasn’t fair! After all she’d gone through, all that stood between her and safety was a stupid door that wouldn’t open. It wasn’t fault she was a monster. She couldn’t help that no one would let her in. She tried and tried and tried so hard to be a good person, to help people, and it was never enough.

She would never be good enough.

Violet didn’t have the strength to keep trying. Overtired and overwrought, she pressed her forehead against the door and cried. There was nothing left for anything other than the outpouring of emotion, the surrender to all the grief and pain she often ignored in the name of survival. There at that abandoned chapel deep in a forgotten wood, Violet bore her soul, not caring who might see or hear.

“Please,” she sobbed. “I can’t do this anymore.”

A force stirred deep within her. Violet was familiar enough with her magic to know that whatever she felt, it didn’t come from her. Warmth spread through her body, embracing her with the comfort of an old, familiar blanket, or a pair of loving arms. Frightened and confused, she whipped her head around, but there was no one but the wind.

Violet was still alone when the echo of a memory whispered in the depths of her heart, mind, and soul,

Be not afraid.

Taking a half-step back, Violet pressed herself against the chapel door, willing herself to disappear. There was the groaning of wood, then a sharp crack that punctured through the peace of the morning like a rocket, and the door snapped from its hinges.

Violet stumbled backward and was unable to keep her balance before falling hard on her behind. Heart pounding she scurried as far backward as she could, but the feeling was gone, leaving only a deep, pulsing ache.

“I’m actually going insane,” Violet whispered. Without bothering to stand up, she craned her neck backward to see where the young sapling had managed to break free to the open sky. The musty smell of earth and forgotten things filled the single room of the chapel, both the walls and floor covered with hoarfrost.

As far as shelter went, Violet had had better. She’d also had much, much worse. She crawled the corner that seemed warmest and removed the wrappings from her feet, wincing as the dried blood pulled the scabs open anew.

How much had she left behind? Enough for the dogs to track her? Violet squeezed her eyes closed and tried to remember the spell that would seal the broken skin, letting her breath out in a low hiss as her magic knitted the tissue back together imperfectly. She’d need to study more, or at least not be stupid enough to leave her shoes behind when she ran.

With her feet taken care of, Violet  finally turned to the matter of getting warm. Reluctantly, she left her sanctuary just long enough to find a good-sized rock and lug it back inside, before settling herself at the base of the tree. Oak, her mind uselessly supplied. As if the leaves and acorns at her feet hadn’t told her that much.

Violet laid her hands on the stone, trying to ignore the barbaric claws that extended past the edges of her fingers. Her hands shook with exhaustion as she tapped the last dregs of her endurance to call heat to the heart of the rock, enough that would last her the hours it would take her to recover from the night’s escapades.

Blue light flashed. Violet  screeched in alarm and pulled her hands away, having succeeded a little too well at her spell. The stone glowed cherry red, instantly melting the frost at her feet and heating the room as well as any stove.

She let out a breath shaky with relief and buried her face in her arms. She wouldn’t cry again. Not for something as stupid as a little warmth.

As exhausted as she was, it took Violet  longer than expected to drift asleep. The immediate need of shelter taken care of, she realized just how hungry and thirsty she was, and not knowing where she could find either food or water wound her tighter than a two copper watch. She was too tired to think of a plan for getting shoes and clothes and too confused by how she’d opened the door of the chapel to try to fight through her fatigue.

Probably a coincidence, Violet thought, the excuse unconvincing even in her own mind. Instinctively she reached for her bag and pulled out her journal—which she had managed to take with her—finding a stubby bit of pencil amongst the detritus of the bottom of her pack. She flipped to a familiar page, reading and rereading her entry about that night, eyes skimming the words she’d long-since memorized.

Be not afraid.  

With everything that had happened, knowing the monster that she was, how could she not?

Sighing softly, Violet turned the page and scratched out another name. Maybe next time would be different. She tucked the journal away again and tried to get comfortable at the base of the tree. A cluster of acorns poked against her hip and side. Violet brushed most of them away, saving one to add to her growing seed collection.

Nearly sick with dread and exhaustion, Violet finally allowed herself to drift to sleep as the first rays of dawn crossed the horizon, the memory of a promise she still didn’t understand leading her to a deep and dreamless slumber.  

[just-someone-who-likes-to-write]

Nuada’s Date

(Requested by @thepjofanqueen​:  Hi I’d like to request a Prince Nuada x reader where he has trouble admitting his feelings so he just kisses the reader and maybe takes her on a little date )

(A/N): Again I am sorry for being late and if this story is too fluffy. other than that I hope you enjoy

Warning: Grammatical Error, mostly Fluff, Angst if you squinted your eyes.

Word Count: 5,355

Nuada moved swiftly around the training room with his staff held tightly in his hands as he struck the dummy around points that would have been fatal to an actual living being. He stopped on his tracks having enough training for today, as he turned around to leave to his room his eyes scanned the room and he could see the glances he got from the other agents. All were impressed by his skills, however, there was a specific pair of eyes that he wanted to be trailed on him but unfortunately, when he found her she was focused on her own training with a colleague of hers. His brows furrowed in annoyance as he took his belongings and marched out of the training area to his room. She never looks his way when he does something that is worth attention. Nuada's eyes widened slightly as he realized what he had just thought. He groaned at himself.

 "Why do I still keep thinking of her?" He asked himself as he reached his room.

 It all started when he first started going on missions with the Red Demon and the walking fish. He thought her to be only an extra agent that was sent to make sure they get the job done. However, she turned out to be one of the few essential workers whose importance could reach the Demon's. He was impressed by with her not only when they were on missions but when she voiced her opinion confidently or presented alternatives on how they should deal with a creature, which saved not only the humans but also other creatures lives, or when she defended the other creature's actions to Manning through meetings that he couldn't come up with a reply except "We protect humans, it's our job.". Those thoughts of her made a small smile spread unconsciously that he had to force away when he realized it.

 Even if she is a human she's still a selfless, strong, and smart one. He respected (Y/n). That's what he thought at least. he was sure that the only emotion he had for the human was "Respect", which he gave it only to a few but then other feelings started to erupt within him that confused him greatly. He wanted to hear her voice more, wanting to smile whenever he saw her happy and wishing pain upon whoever dared to anger her or make her frown. He doesn't remember when did he start feeling like this towards her, but what he knew is that it is driving him crazy. 

 A knock pulled him out of his thoughts and when he snapped his head to look at the door he could already tell who was it.

 "You may enter." He called. The door opened and it was as he suspected his dear sister Nuala.

 "Good evening, brother." She greeted with a smile.

 "Good evening." He greeted back with a nod before turning back to resume changing his clothes.

 Nuala's smile vanished from her face and was replaced with a small frown when she heard the tone of his voice.

 "Brother..." She called again as she took a step forward, Nuada hummed as a respond not facing her yet, Nuala dismissed the act. "Tell me what is bothering you."

 "Nothing is bothering me." He answered, which made Nuala chuckle. Nuada turned to look at his sister with a raised brow. "What is so funny?"

 "That despite having both mental and physical connection that allows us to experience whatever the other is feeling you still try to hide from me." She said with a smile.

 Nuada's brows furrowed in annoyance at her words, he knew that the only person he can't hide his true feelings from is his dear sister. Nuala sat on his bed and patted the area to her left, seeing no use in hiding he submitted and went to sit beside her.

 "Now tell me what is troubling you, dear brother." she started gently. "What makes you feel so many things at once?"

 "It is more of "Who is"." He answered with a sigh.

 "A person?" Nuala perked up at his answer. he nodded. "Who is it?"

 He didn't answer. Nuala looked at her brother with a look of bewilderment, he has hint foreign look on his face that she saw him wear a very...very long time ago when they were just kids. He used to have that look whenever he gets caught after causing mischief... Her dear brother was feeling embarrassed. Nuala had to bite her lip to she won't smile, fearing that Nuada would misunderstand her delight for a mockery.

 "Who is it, brother?" She asked again after a long silent pause.

 "It's... a.. a human." He struggled as he forced out half the answer as he titled his head down, to hide his face with his hair. Nuala's eyes widened.

 "A human?" She asked again unsure if she heard right and he nodded confirming it.

 Nuala couldn't hide the smile anymore as it spread across her face. She was feeling so happy at the moment because of two reasons, the first being that she identified the feeling that he was struggling with as love and the second was that his love interest was a human which was very intriguing.

 "I am so happy that you found someone to love brother." The moment those words left her mouth Nuada turned sharply to her with a look of displeasure.

 "I do NOT love a human!" He spat his words with disgust. 

 Sensing his sister's jolt of fear at his outburst Nuada forced himself to take deep breaths to calm himself but he doesn't seem to be able to. He turned around to the door wanting to leave, Nuala opened her mouth to call for him but she didn't get the chance.

 "I need to meditate in the fresh air and clear my mind, excuse me." He said before leaving the room with Nuala who was concerned by her brother's behavior.

 --- 

 Nuada walked down the halls after returning from his meditation feeling a bit better of everything that happened today. all he wanted now was to return to his room and enjoy a good night's sleep.

 "Nuada!... There you are!"

 ...Or maybe not.

 The Elf didn't need to turn around to know that the caller was none other than Hellboy. When he got close enough Hellboy wrapped his arm around Nuada's neck surprising him as they continued walking.

 "I have been looking for you everywhere man, where were you?" Asked the demon.

 "I was meditating outside." Answered Nuada as he tried to pray the red demon's arm away but to no avail.

 "Say how about you come over for a while I want to talk to you about something." Said Hellboy ignoring Nuada's previous answer.

 "What do you want?" Asked Nuada as he tried to stop but he was forced to continue moving.

 "You will find out soon."

 That's the only answer he got as he was forced to take different routes that lead to where Hellboy took him. Nuada just gave in and went along wishing for everything to be over already. It didn't take long for them to reach the library and when the double doors opened Nuada was surprised to see that they weren't alone. His sister, the demon's spouse, and the fish were here as well. When Hellboy finally let go of him Nuada looked around the room at everyone before turning back to the demon.

 "What is the meaning of this?" He asked not liking whatever they were planning.

 "Relax princy, we are here to help." Said Hellboy as he made his way to where his spouse sat.

 "Help me?" Nuada asked raising a brow in confusion. His eyes scanned the room again and he could see that everyone was looking at him with excitement that worried him.

 "Yeah, Nuala told us you have an interest in someone." Said Liz with a smile.

 Nuada's eyes widened before looking to his sister with dangerously narrowed eyes, that didn't phase Nuala, who kept a smile.

 "I thought it would be a good idea to get the help of the others since they as well experienced love." She explained to him. Nuada almost growled in anger at the word "Love".

 "I do not love her!" He exclaimed at his sister, but no one was phased by his outburst.

 "Oh, it's a girl." Said Hellboy with a grin.

 "Yes, a human girl." Said Nuala with a nod.

 "Nuada loves a human girl." Said Liz who was surprised.

 "Does she work here?" Asked Hellboy. 

 "That is none of your business." Snapped Nuada at him, getting more irritated by them.

 "How interesting." Mused Abraham and when everyone turned to him they saw he already placed his hands on the glass towards Nuada. "She does work here, a close colleague in fact."

 That was the last straw for Nuada, he pulled out his blade and marched towards Abraham's tank. 

 "Get out of my mind you damned creature-"

 "Whoa Whoa Whoa!!" called Hellboy blocking Nuada's way, to protect Abe. "Calm down there, blue didn't mean it."

 "If he dared to go into my mind again I will not hesitate to slice him into-"

 "He has feelings for (Y/n)." Said Abraham interrupting Nuada's threat.

 Everyone was surprised by the discovery they turned to look at Nuada only to see him frozen in place staring at the ground with wide eyes. He has been found out.

 "You like (Y/n)?" Asked Hellboy with a grin.

 "I'm leaving this place." Said Nuada as turned on his heels to leave the library. 

 "Brother wait!" Called Nuala but she was ignored.

 The prince was so angry and dare he say also embarrassed at being found out. he just wanted to be alone, not even want to be near his sister for a while, this should have been a secret between them, but she went and told... Them. Nuada's thoughts were cut off when he felt arms wrapped around him and left him up, he knew by the brute action it was the demon but what shocked him is the fact that he was caught off guard.

 "Let go of me you brainless-"

 "Yeah yeah just set down and shut up for a sec would ya." said Hellboy before forcing Nuada to sit beside his sister.

 "Brother I am sorry for planning all this from behind you back." Said Nuala sincerely as she placed her hand above her brother's. "I just want to help reach the one you love and be happy."

 "I don't love her." Said Nuada his voice a few more irritated.

 "What do you feel towards her then?" Asked Liz.

 "Respect, that is all I feel for her." He answered.

 "Liar." Said Nuala and when Nuada turned to face her he realized that his hand is still linked with his sister's.

 He quickly pulled his hand away making Nuala flinch.

 "I'm sorry it was by accident." She said honestly.

 He knew it was a habit his sister could never control but it still annoyed him at times. Nuada looked up to them seeing that they all were eager to know more, there was no chance of escaping, he knew that, and so with a sigh of defeat, he decided to just give in and get over with it.

 "Yes, but I still don't understand what I feel towards her." He confessed. "I didn't lie when I said I respected her, but respect isn't the only thing I feel, there are more but I don't know what they are, these feelings are so foreign to me."

 Silence filled the room as they all were surprised that he confessed the truth, Hellboy broke the silence.

 "She accompanies almost your every thought, you will complain about her but you know that they are empty complaints, you try to impress her without even realizing it, and lastly the mere mention of her name makes you feel... weird in here." He finished point to his chest. Nuada's golden eyes widened at his words.

 "How did you know?" Nuada asked Hellboy chuckled at his reaction.

 "Because that's how I felt towards Liz at first before understanding what it was." He answered.

 "I felt the same thing for Nuala." Said Abe from behind the glass. "I always tried to find what she liked to I can try to like them to and hope that the common interest would bring us closer."

  "You didn't that, I liked you from the first time." Confessed Nuala with a smile. 

 Abe stammered in embarrassment at her words making everyone laugh in the room except for Nuada who was deep in thought.

 "What if the feeling I have for her not "Love" but something else?" He said making them stop laughing and look at him confused. "How can I confirm it?"

 A grin blasted across Hellboy's face.

 "I know just the thing!"

 --- 

 You walked down the hallway your head bounding from the lack of sleep. you wanted nothing more than to take a day off and spend the day sleeping but you couldn't last time you took a day off an Elven prince broke in and almost killed Red. You shock your head of the thought of the handsome prince and tried to concentrate on what you have to do today but your thought kept drifting to him. images of him training invaded your mind, his body was built yet he moved so gracefully. Another image of him with Nuala and being a good brother, or him being good with animals. You couldn't help the blush at the thought of him or know how to deal with the butterfly in your stomach whenever he was near. You can't ignore it.

 You have a crush on Prince Nuada the rightful king of the Bethmoora clan, a strong warrior with a good brain on his shoulders and that damn charming smile.

 But you have to get over such a silly crush. because not only was he out of your league but also because he loathes humans. He does work alongside you and even protected you a few times from death or fatal injuries but that's only because he is forced to. there was no way in hell you can be with Nuada. 

 You were pulled out of your thoughts when the opposite side of you Nuada was walking towards you. Speaking of the devil. You suppressed your blush and forced yourself to look professional, you prepared yourself to give a greeting of some sort, a simple "Good morning" would do, he never was a talker and you are a human so he will probably ignore you, maybe just a polite smile with a nod would do. However, with all the thinking you did, you didn't prepare yourself for him walking straight towards you. Did he want something? did you do something?... How do you look do you look? do you look tired? you hoped not. You stopped in your place, and he slowed down as he came closer to you confirming that he did want something from you.

 "Good morning Nuada." You greeted with a smile, thankful that your voice didn't give away the nervousness you felt.

 Nuada just stood there staring down at you as if he was thinking something over. Despite the smile that you still kept your anxiety was growing. what did he want?. He took a few steps closer to you, too close for your liking, and before you could question him he placed his hand on your right cheek which made you freeze at the contact, but what really caught you off guard is when he leaned forward and connected his lips to your own.

 Your eyes widened with shock as you let out a small muffled sound of surprise. Your (E/c) stared back to his golden once, he looked so calm. The kiss wasn't a deep one, just a simple one. when he pulled away he closed his eyes as if in deep thought before finally speaking.

 "Tomorrow evening I will take you somewhere so we can spend some time together so we can get to know each other more, don't worry about "where" just wear something nice and wait for more to get you." He then turned to walk away. "Have a good day."

 You just stood there your mouth hung open trying to process what the hell just happened.

 "...D .. Did he just...order me out?"

 --- 

 you looked at yourself in the mirror one last time, your (H/c) was done the way you like it and wore a halter (F/c) dress which was below your knees. you took a deep breath to try and calm yourself for your "Date". You had no clue what to expect today all you knew was that you had to look nice, because of that you decided to look casual for whatever he had for you in store. Just then there was a knock on the door making your heart jump.

 He is here.

 You another took a deep breath to calm your self before walking to the door and opening it. You opened your mouth to greet him but your voice didn't come out. Nuada was wearing black and red royal clothes with the golden seal of his clan on his abdomen. He was well dressed and looked elegant, a true prince charming standing before you. 

 "You... look beautiful." 

 His words broke you our of your train of thought. you looked up meeting his golden eyes that stared down at you with a soft look. You blushed slightly at his comment. 

 "Th... Thanks!" You burst out but clear your throat trying to look calm. "You don't look bad yourself."

 You said with a grin, causing him to show a grin on his own at your words. Your heart skipped a beat.

 "So..." He offered his forearm like a gentleman. "Shall we?"

 You were surprised by the action but smiled none the less to him before hocking your arm to his. As you walked silently your mind kept wondering about your choice of clothes. Nuada looked as if he was dressed for a ball while you looked like you were going to a hangout. Maybe you should have changed? is it too late to ask to go back and change? what would you change to?

 ...Wait a moment.

 "Nuada..." He called he turned his head to you. "Where are we going?"

 Your question made a troubled look to cross his face for a just a moment before he looked back forward with his nonchalant stare. He stayed quiet for a moment before he finally answered.

 "I don't know as well." He confessed.

 You raised your brow in confusion at his words. how can he not know? you wanted to ask him further but you stopped when you were met with the double doors of the library. How did we get here so fast? You heard a sigh and looked back to Nuada and saw that the troubled look was back on his face. He stared at the door, contemplating if he should go in or not. In the end, he placed his pale hand on the handle and twisted the nub opening the door. Your eyes widened slightly at what you saw.

 The usually messy library with scattered books and the dusty statue was now clean and organized, the desk and chairs there were in the small circle of books were replaced with a dinner table for two with a patch of red roses in the middle. the light from Abe's now clean blues waters gave the sight a more beautiful touch. 

 "N...Nuada this looks... so beautiful." You turned to look up to him with a smile. "Did you do all this?"

 "Hmm... I.. had some help." He said with a hint of hesitation as is he was unsure which was unusual on him but you didn't care as you walked into the room with Nuada behind you.

 If you had glanced back you would have seen the shocked look on Nuada's face. 

 After he confessed his feelings towards you, each one of them started babbling pieces of advice on what he should do. His sister and her lover had said to try and befriend her first and built our relationship from there. I rejected that because I didn't want and wait until I am too late. Elizabeth said to ask her on an outing... "A date" for us to set together and get to know each other more. I liked the idea because it will show my intentions with her from the start and will make things easier. Hellboy advised me to just kiss her and my feelings for her will be clear. Of course, the others and I rejected the idea, because it was wrong to just go and kiss someone without consent. so the plan was set, they well prepare a dating environment for us and all I had to do is "Ask her out". That was the plan. However, when he stood so close to her he couldn't help his feelings as it pressured him to act on the red Demon's advice give in to the temptation of the kiss and as a gentleman, he was ashamed of such action...

 Well... almost ashamed.

 You were so amazed by everything around you, it must have taken Nuada a lot of work to make this place look so nice. you reached for one of the chairs but Nuada beat you to it as he pulled it for you. you blushed at his action remembering why you were here in the first place.

 "Thank you." you said as you sat down.

 "My pleasure." He said with a nodded and a smile before sitting in front of you.

 a weighty silence filled the room as none of said anything, but the silence was short-lived as soft music started to play. Did he time the music player?

 "Thank you for accepting my invitation..." He said earning your attention. "Even though it was in such short notice."

 "Oh.. that's alright, But I would be lying if I said I wasn't surprised by it." 

 "I'm deeply sorry for that." He immediately replied.

 "Again it's alright." You said as a bashful smile crossed your face. "Because... it made me happy."

 You could see how your answer made Nuada's eyes widen slightly at your answer as he was not expecting it. a soft smile broke on his face.

 "I'm glad-"

 "W...Would you like some drinks!" 

 Both you and Nuada jumped at the sudden interruption. you turned your head to the side to see none other than Abe standing there, wearing a tuxedo that was wide open around his neck so it won't press against his gills, and you didn't need glasses to see that he looked so anxious and how clear it was that he didn't want to be here. you glanced at Nuada and saw how shocked he also was by Abe's presence which meant that he didn't force the poor thing to act as a waiter for them.

 "What... are you doing here?" Nuada asked between his greeted teeth. you can see how hard he was trying not to blow up in front of you.

 "uh...Hmm.." Abe struggled to talk, then he lifted a bottle of red wine with a weary smile. "Uh..D..Drinks?"

 Nuada snatched the bottle from abe's arms, making the blue creature flinch.

 "Leave." The prince ordered as he stared daggers into Abe.

 Abe wanted to say something more but quickly left because he was afraid of what to come. Nuada placed the bottle down on the table, before looking back at you. his anger was replaced with a troubled face.

 "I'm deeply sorry." He muttered looking down at his plate.

 "Did you..." You didn't say any more just gestured to where abe left indicating what you were asking.

 "Oh no!" Nuada quickly answered, almost looked offended. "I am barely able to stand seeing him around my dear sister let alone force him to serve through our..."

 "Date?" You finished seeing how he trailed off.

 You almost swear that you saw a golden blush on his pale cheeks.

 "That's what you humans call it, Yes." He answered with confidence. You smiled making him almost lost his demeanor.

 "So tell me, your majesty, what do you call it." You asked jokingly but he didn't seem to get it.

 "Please, call me by my name." He requested politely. "And there are two words that I think are proper for what we are in now."

 "Oh really?... and what are they?" You asked curios.

 "The first word is "Wooing"...."

 He reached for the bottle of wine and opened it with ease, not struggling with the crock, he poured for you first before himself, filling the glasses to half. and he did it all while keeping a charming smile your way. You were definitely wooed.

 "A... And the other word?" You cursed at your self for letting your voice break, But Nuada seemed unbothered.

 He put the bottle aside and held his wine glass up to you. his golden eyes were staring through you, one of them was clear to you the other hidden behind the liquid causing the redness of the wine to mix with the gold of his eye.

 "The other word, my dear... is "Courting"." he continued, as he brought the class to his pale lips. "Which if things went well tonight we might reach it."

 If you were doubting his intentions towards you before you didn't anymore.

 "Oh..." That's all that you could say as your face burned red at his words. he just chuckled at your reaction.

 But again your special time was interrupted.

 "Hold her hand." Someone whispered from above you.

 You and Nuada kept eye contact, you were holding back laughter because you knew who's that voice belonged to and Nuada was clinching his glass as his eyes narrowed in annoyance. You both looked up and kneeling in front of the second-floor railing is none other than the red demon himself who was grinning down at you both. 

 "Hey Red." you called waving your hand to him.

 "Hey (Y/n)." he waved back to you.

 "What are you doing here?" Asked Nuada as he massaged the bridge of his nose, trying to calm the headache.

 "Being your wingman." He answered simply. making you giggle.

 "I don't need your help." retorted Nuada as he glared up at Hellboy.

 "You sure did when you took my advice to kiss her." 

 Your giggle died as you looked up to Nuada whose eyes were widened at being found out. His golden blush was clear now as he looked down avoiding your eyes, your own blush returned. Did he come to Red for relationship advice?... And acted by it!?

 "Please leave..." Nuada muttered but he was ignored.

 "did you like the food?" Red continued. "I thought stake was the best choice for a romantic dinner."

 "You prepared all this?" You asked with a raised brow.

 "Hell yeah, I did..." he paused as he thought it over. "Well, I got some help."

 "Some help?" Called Liz from a place behind you. "Me, Abe and Nuala did all the work!"

 Just on cue Nuala and Abe who was still wearing the tuxedo came out following after. Liz and Red were bickering again and you just stayed silent staring forward at Nuada who was burring his face in his hands, giving up on what is happening around him. You felt a hand on your shoulder and you turned to see Nuala smiling down at you.

 "Hello (Y/n)." she greeted you. "It is a pleasure to finally meet my future sister in law."

 Your eyes widened at her words before she enveloped you in a hug and when you glanced at Nuada from the corner of your eyes you can see him bury himself further in his hands at his sister's words.

 "Everyone please calm down-"

 Abe piped in trying to calm Hellboy and Liz but his voice added more to the noise, and Nuala also was telling you of how excited she is for the time you will spend together. Everything around you was too much to handle. you thought that you will have a nice night with your crush, but now you just wanted to go back to your room and forget this night. 

 "ENOUGH!"

 Nuada's voice boomed around the room as he slammed his fists on the table, causing the objects on it to fall off and everyone to stay in silence the only sound going around is the sound of the background music. Nuala pulled herself away from you as she stared worriedly at her brother. Nuada was huffing while clenching his fists tightly. Without another word he marched around the table, gripping your arm forcing you to exit the room along with him, leaving the rest standing there stunned. You struggled to keep up with Nuada as he took you with him to god knows where.

 "Nuada..." You called but he didn't answer, you called again this time louder. "Nuada you are hurting my arm."

 At those words, Nuada froze in his place as he let go pf you as if you were fire. You rubbed the sport he held, hoping that a bruise won't form.

 "I'm deeply sorry..." He breathed out. 

 You looked up to him and in his golden eyes, you could see that he was... ashamed.

 "It's ok." you said. "It didn't really hurt I just said that to make you stop-"

 "No I didn't mean-... well I am sorry for that-..but I am sorry for...for this night-" He stopped himself, closed his eyes, and took a few deep breaths to collect his thoughts.

 "What I want to say is, I am sorry for everything that accrued tonight." He started as he opened his eyes to look at you. "Tonight was supposed to be special between us. I didn't lie when I said that I wished to court you someday because... I have these feelings for you that I had for a long while now and still don't understand fully... But what I do know is that I want to know you more and grow closer to you."

 "Then... why didn't you say that from the start?" You asked.

 "Because I didn't know what to do." He admitted. "I never felt this way towards anyone through all these ages I lived..."

 "So you went to Red for advice?" You retorted making him chuckle.

 "A truly horrible idea I must confess."

 You both shared a small laugh when you laughter died down you looked down at your watch then back to Nuada.

 "You know, there is still some time." you informed. "Do you wanna spend it together?"

 "Actually, I do." He grinned as he offered his hand, wishing to lead you again.

 You smiled before taking his hand and walked together. Once again Nuada started leading you through the hallways and this time you didn't need to ask as you knew exactly where he was taking you. After convincing the guards that you were only going to take a few hours, you and Nuada exited the building and were welcomed by the stary dark sky and the soft sound of crickets.

 With your arms hocked together, you and Nuada walked around the premises while talking about interest, what you like and dislikes, and your lives before the B.P.R.D. There were a few times where you stopped because a guard dog ran up to you both, the first time gave you a mini heart attack because you thought that it will attack Nuada but was surprised when you saw how it greeted Nuada like a long lost owner. It was a cute sight to see the known dangerous warrior be adored by the dog and him spoiling the animal with praise and scratches. You of course had to swear to never tell a soul of what you saw.

 You swore in exchange for him to take you on another date without acting on another of Hellboy's "Advice", which he agreed to wholeheartedly with a wide smile.

--- 

I hope you all enjoyed this story and if you have requests, please wait until the next “Open requests” and thank you!

[narukoibito]

St. Mungos, since feeling is first who pays attention and Muggle FWB for the WIP Game?

Thank you for the interest, Anon! This took a while because things in my personal life are in chaos, but thank you for the request.

St. Mungos

This is my Healer!Ginny story that has been lurking in the back of my brain since last year. I’ve written a good amount of words, but then an entirely different plot appeared and now I may have to rewrite most of it, hence it’s lack of progress. But I still really want to finish this one day.

Ginny is a Healer on the 4th floor of St. Mungos. Her first patient is someone named Harry Evans. (This is a Harry never to Hogwarts story.)

The first thing Ginny notices is his eyes. They’re the most vivid, bright green that she’s ever seen. It’s unnerving how unseeing they are. A pressure builds up in her chest, an aching pain and nostalgia she can’t place.

The morning light from the window washes over his face, dancing off these round wire-rimmed glasses. His dark hair (black like a blackboard) appears to be on some ineffable scale of entropy — tousled and pointed in every which way, yet somehow it’s charming and works well with his sharp, unconventional features. Some of that hair spills over a bandage wrapped around his forehead. 

But it’s also the pleasant, vacancy in those eyes that strikes her, like she’s looking at the embers of a once bright flame. He looks like an innocent, half-lost child, his lips curled in a ghost of a smile.

Her clipboard and supervisor tell her his name is Harry Evans. The name creates an itch at the back of her head, something she wants to scratch at, but the odd sense of nostalgia must be misplaced significance. He’s her first real patient. 

He must matter to someone important to have his own room on the fourth floor of St. Mungo’s Ward 49. Usually they lumped all the long-term spell damaged patients in one place, let them wander under the supervision of one Healer. But this room is spacious and private, protected by complicated wards and concealing charms. Someone really cares about Harry Evans, and for some reason it causes a subtle burning behind her eyes. Maybe it’s because he looks like a newborn fawn. 

Who wouldn’t want to protect him?

“You’re new, but he’s not difficult. It’s mostly maintenance,” her supervisor says. “He makes it easy, don’t you, Harry?”

Harry’s gaze drifts toward the window.

Ginny scans his file. It’s actually surprisingly thick, but a lot of it has been redacted. The summary page sums it up though: he’s twenty-one; he has been here for three years; the diagnosis is vague (severe curse damage); there’s a long slew of attempted cures, none of which were successful obviously; now it’s about making sure he’s comfortable whatever that means.

“All right, let me know if run into any trouble.” Her supervisor is already starting for the door.

“Um — what about — I know his treatment is maintenance, but can I…?” Ginny’s not sure what she’s trying to say exactly. Harry Evans has seen a lot of Healers if the list of attempted cures is any indication, but she gave up Quidditch to become a Healer in the long-term spell damage ward specifically because she wanted to do something.

Her supervisor gives her a rueful smile. 

“Stick to maintenance. Harry Evans is a special case.”

Ginny turns back to Harry, who is facing her again, looking painfully innocent.

Somehow she doesn’t need convincing that he’s special.

since feeling is first who pays attention

This was a gift for the Harry/Ginny Discord Incognito Elf exchange. I managed to finish in time to gift it, but I want to take some additional time to rework it before posting. It is missed moments over the years as Ginny and her feelings for Harry evolve.

Ginny presses her face against the wall, peeking between the stair spindles. Her bright brown eye lands on the two boys hunched over a chessboard. Her brother Ron and Harry Potter, who, despite appearing to be losing, doesn’t look the least upset.

Harry Potter. 

The Harry Potter is in her house. Looking comfortable on their couch despite the faded, mended cushions. His face crinkles in laughter at something Ron says, his green eyes bright with contentment. Ginny doesn’t miss the occasional look of awe at the things she’s always taken for granted. It’s almost as if he can’t believe he is really here.

He isn’t what she expected – isn’t what she imagined he would look like after all those years listening to Mum recite her favorite bedside story, about the heroic Savior of the Wizarding World. She had pictured neat hair, a dashing smile, someone who would recognize a comrade in her and take her on all sorts of adventures. He would be different, he wouldn’t discount her dreams of flying and doing everything her brothers could and more.

Instead, Harry Potter has the messiest hair ever, a sheepish smile, and clothes that he nearly swims in. Oh, and he has somehow missed the memo and found the comrade in her brother Ron instead. 

Her fingers curl around the spindle. Not for the first time, a spike of envy shoots through her. If only she were a little older or a boy. Then maybe she would be the one playing chess with Harry. Maybe she would be the one to hide under his invisibility cloak and battle trolls and face You-Know-Who with him.

Ginny presses her face a little closer and lets out a sigh.

But Harry Potter is kind. He ignores all the times she has made a fool of herself. And he has the greenest eyes she’s ever seen. They are as green as those glowing jars of pickled toads at the Potion ingredients store Mum had taken her to. Pretty and kind and not dismissive of her patched clothes or her glowing red face.

Harry Potter. If he likes Ron, if he looks like he actually likes the Burrow, if his face grimaces at the attention at Flourish and Blotts, could it be possible that one day he could like her too?

Muggle FWB

Hah, so this was the first idea that I rambled off to my beta, which ended up with long, long emails back and forth on this idea that I never wrote! Here’s a snippet of that exchange:

Harry thinks he only see Ginny as a little sister, so when she suddenly proposes that they become friends with benefits in uni, he’s floored and says they’re practically family. Blinded by her anger over the rejection, she kisses him so that he knows what he’ll be missing. Of course, he then realizes his attraction to her. As their physical relationship progresses, they develop feeeeeeelings (gasp!). But Ginny thinks she only wants a physical relationship and once they have sex, it'll get out of her system. Harry has to work to convince her that she actually wants more.

But the backdrop is that Ginny doesn't think she wants more than sex is that when she was 11, she was kidnapped by Tom Riddle for as a kid (they met at the park a lot, and none of her brothers/Harry/anyone realized he'd been "befriending" her). Kid Harry figures out where Riddle took her and saves her.

Ginny wasn’t molested but she/Harry/everyone else is deeply affected by this event even though they don't realize it. Ginny thinks she's overcome it, and she's still a BAMF some the books but she's not fully over it as shown by her fear of being emotionally involved with Harry. It's why Harry refuses for a long time to think of her anything else outside of a brotherly way. 

Ginny has a really bad sexual experience (though it doesn't go all the way), and as a result she's disgusted by men (not scared), but doesn't feel any revulsion with Harry. After not being able to get close to any boy for a long time, she decides to proposition Harry. Harry, being noble, absolutely refuses at first, but she kisses him, he's very attracted to her, and is convinced by her that he's helping her get over this tick. So it's FWB but it fits their personalities, and still stays true to the Ginny is subconsciously afraid of a real relationship/intimacy with Harry, who realizes he wants more but doesn't know if just getting to be physical is more than he'll ever deserve and he wants what he can get if not real love from her - until, of course, he realizes he can't do it anymore and she has to decide if she's brave enough to actually let herself feel.

HAHA omg I’m reading over my emails and I talk about getting into The Changeling and only sleeping 4/5 hrs a night and then the exchange ends with my coming up with my alternate dimension idea of Harry getting thrown into the BWL!Neville universe. So you guys can see why this story never went anywhere despite several thousands words between me and my beta.

–

Whew, long post. Hope that satisfied your curiosity! 

I’m honestly not sure there are any left, but let me know if you have any other wip asks! Though note that I will be rather absent in the near-future because of life.

[thelucyverse]

Why I don't write Harry Potter fanfiction (much)

I had this or parts of this conversation a lot lately, so I thought I would try to note down my thoughts to refer to in the future.

First of all - jkr's a bitch. She's racist, sexist, homo- and especially transphobic, and sadly the canon text also shows these positions and more.

-> Because of her views, I don't want to support her in any ways that would encourage her making money or pull more people into her influence, which is why when I do post about HP content, I try to do so in ways where only people who are already familiar with the canon material will find it, so it won't be advertising HP to people who would then go and buy her books etc - so while I might post a fic tagged HP, I won't share many rec posts for it on tumblr main where ppl not already in the fandom may see it. I also try to put disclaimers about Please not supporting jkr - by buying her merch or following her online - under any HP works.

However - I don't think that it is, like, evil to still be in HP fandom. It's important to be able to critically engage with a text, and I believe that in the case of HP, I'm able to discern which parts of it are problematic, I listen when someone points out a problematic detail I hadn't noticed so far, and I don't think jkr's views can, at this point, affect my own....

-> I think I can safely engage with her content, while I can't really enjoy the books any longer, I do read HP fic (though I don't tend to advertise that anywhere but the comment sections there because, again, advertisement for the overterf) and I still sometimes watch the films when they're on TV, but I absolutely understand if other people can't or don't want to be in the fandom at all anymore, either because they're afraid of being influenced by her problematic believes, or because they feel too hurt/are triggered by it, for example when someone is trans themselves and HP only reminds them of jkr's transphobia. I get it, I really do. Thinking about her leaves a bitter taste in me as well, and at this point I can really only enjoy fic that obviously fixes those issues or if they aren't mentioned has a nice author's note about it.

Canon is so very fucked up, and if I were to write a longfic in HP 'verse instead of just an AU or a quick character study, I'd want to fix all these mistakes.

-> I already mentioned that both the author and her works are deeply problematic, including but not limited to:

- Happy slaves (house-elves) that are never properly explored apart from basically saying 'ok really physically mistreating that one friendly elf that wants to be free is bad actually, but all other elves are okay with their situation so shut up about it'

- Boys can't get into the girls dorm, but the reverse is okay (sexist, and also dangerous when considering her transphobic views, she'd definitely not want a trans girl anywhere)

- Harry being abused by the Dursleys, something that is never acknowledged as abuse in canon

- Snape abusing students, same as ^

- arguably anti-semitically Jewish-coded money hungry big nosed Gringotts goblins, an entire race just worried about riches and money

- 'Creature' rights within the story - goblins, centaurs and other completely sentient beings are seen as lesser and for example aren't allowed to carry wands, in general the treatment of different fantasy races is incredibly negative and while canon sometimes offhandedly mentions that this is negative, it's never properly explored, also Hogwarts seems to only accept purely wizarding children, the one werewolf is hidden, the half-goblin teacher and squib caretaker are hiding their identities, and the one half giant was expelled at the first opportunity, there are no vampires, mer-people, veela, goblins, elves, centaurs etc etc, although all those and more are mentioned in canon and seem to generally have a level of intelligence and magic comparable to 'normal' magicians that would allow them to sit in the same classes as the canon students

- The heck kind of a prison system is Azkaban? I don't just mean sending sirius in without a trial during war time, I also mean... In general, that prison sounds like a box to put people in you want to execute but just give a slow death to instead, not like any sort of program making people ready for society after their sentence - and while, at least in canon, a bunch of insane death eaters probably deserve their life sentences because they'd never change anyway, not only is it arguable whether the government should torture them for it (dementors), it's not just death eaters that do criminal things and end up imprisoned - Hagrid also gets sent to Azkaban instead of any other holding cells - so like... Don't they have some other way of ensuring wizards don't get away? The way magic works in HP makes it seem like it would be very easy to put up wards that just take all access to magic away from the prisoners, you don't need to use dementors to make them insane.

- Also, the auror force, what they're allowed to do and how from book 5 and up it all goes downhill is a prime example of how nothing is safe from being turned into a fascist government, and how having cops with kill orders in place is Never a good idea. ACAB, yeah some of the characters that are written as being likeable are aurors, but they all actually do things - give information to the groups they happen to agree with, arrest people only when they feel like it but then with force, lie to their superiors - that would make them the typical bad cops that hate the internal affairs.

- Do I need to tell you that the government being able to execute people (dementor's kiss) is bad? That that's something that can't be reversed even when sb later turns out to be innocent, something that happens with human error (like Sirius being imprisoned for life, and only getting lucky not being executed)? Also Barty Crouch junior, while evil, just got executed on the spot, in a school, on the order of one single person, the minister, if I remember correctly. Canon good guy characters are only mad because they needed his testimony. I can't even

- Basically... All animal welfare arguments? Owls in tiny cages? Intrusive outdoor pet cats allowed to hunt freely in masses? Transfigurations? And that's just off the top of my head

- While the points about house elves, sexism, creature rights, prison system, dementors, aurors, animal welfare and all feel very in-character for the traditional wizarding world under people like Malfoy who are old money and people like Dumbledore who only care about a specific own agenda, what really bothers me about these points is that they are not pointed out as negative in canon, that the next generation, especially muggle-raised Harry and Hermione who should know better, don't realize how many things are wrong, and that at the end of the books/movies, the status quo hasn't changed - even in the epilogue scene from what we can tell, there definitely aren't non-humans mentioned to us attending Hogwarts.

- While always arguing in text that blood lines and wealth doesn't matter, in the end it's still a story about a little rich boy only winning because of his parents

- evil people being called ugly and fat and (in women's like Rita Skeeter and Aunt Marge's case) manly - not just using fat and manly in a negative way (fat- and transphobia), but also heavily implying that those people are 'ugly' because they are evil or vice-versa

-> on top of this, there are also non-morally questionable things I'd still like to fix, just plot holes like...

- parseltongue - snakes can't bloody hear. And the 'they're magical snakes' argument doesn't rly work because Harry also talks to several snakes in purely muggle environments

- when and how the fuck did the Marauders have time to become animagi and create the marauder's map next to pranks and school? I'm sorry but the three Marauders we do later see on-screen don't rly seem overly gifted enough to explain that

- What gigantic and unused pipes is the Basilisk travelling through, that also conveniently open to the castle - or is it just the one exit? If yes, how far can it even get away from there unnoticed? Also why didn't the thing starve over hundreds of years? And didn't jkr say that Hogwarts plumbing didn't exist in the founders' times?

- what exactly does the knight bus... Do. Like. Why is it a bus and not an apparating box given that that's all it really does. Someone really wanted to have a car chase in a book without reason for it huh

- the three most forbidden curses are not really the most dangerous ones

- So many weird names that seem like someone named the character after half their life. Moon moon mcwerewolf, author's choice I get it, I just don't bloody enjoy that style of writing as it doesn't make sense within the context of the story

- so many loose ends: the veil in the department of mysteries, how Voldy learned about Horcruxes, how underage magic is regulated and why, why does tech not work in Hogwarts and what tech exactly doesn't work? I get a ban on smartphones in modern times because, like, hard to regulate outgoing info, but um... Why does tech not work? How?

- I have deep dislike for the happy family 19 years later same status quo epilogue

So basically - if I want to write a story fixing jkrs errors, there are A Lot of errors to fix, and I need a bloody manual not to forget any at this point, and most are not things that I can just decide not to write about, no, if I want to stick to canon at all things like house elves need to be addressed either by an author's note saying They Don't Exist Imagine A Fictional Replacement or by... Actually fixing the issue.

And when it comes to fixing it - I do have thoughts and ideas. But I'm fairly certain almost none of them are my own, because I read A Bloody Lot of HP fic, plus in the olden days before jkr's idiotic personality made itself all to known, fandom had been happy to ignore her misgivings and not exactly fix but rather explain canon a la 'well Snape is a git but Only Because He's Already Acting As A Spy And That's Why Dumbledore Hasn't Fired Him' etcetcetc, so... I have a lot of ideas in my head that I don't want to use without credit but often don't even know who to credit for. As an example, here, Just the topic of snakes, basilisks and slytherin house, how I would want to 'fix' canon if I were to attempt to write a properly thought out HP longfic:

- only magical snakes speak parsel and only they have a thought structure similar enough to translate to a language humans can understand

- Parsel is a magical language that the brain directly translates as meanings instead of converting to English or the person's primary language, because of which Harry doesn't notice that he's speaking a foreign language, but he would notice the hissing sound if he really tried

- basilisks are protectors actually and mean humans no harm, Voldy just made this one angry or cursed it, it was supposed to protect the school (fairly certain this one's originally by Of A Linear Circle)

- Basilisks can swim and are so able to access the pipes which are in use/ the basilisk has access to the black lake to hunt

- The giant 'pipes' the basilisk uses aren't actually part of the plumbing but specifically a basilisk network put in by Slytherin, the bathroom just happened to be put over the entrance later, and Slytherin's magic converted whatever the entrance was into the snake password thing now on a sink (might be from Accidental Animagus by White Squirrel?)

- Either the Basilisk only kills near the entry to the chamber, not like in canon Or there's another proper entry near the library and the hospital wing etc Or the Basilisk can shape-shifting or make itself invisible or whatever it needs to get around the castle

- Basilisks have 2 sets of eyelids, one to watch, one to kill (also Of A Linear circle?)

- Basilisks kill without petrification when looked at directly Or basilisks usually have their eyes closed/their second set of eyelids closed to hunt as otherwise they'd only catch inedible stone

- Slytherin was not evil, his message just got mistranslated/purposely mangled over time to fit to the current pureblood ideologies, in reality it was either all made up or he wanted no nonmagical people in Hogwarts, no people without knowledge of magic in Hogwarts, or compulsory separate education for magical- and nonmagical-born students to accommodate their different needs OR Slytherin was evil and there should really not still be a house named after him. Also, the house system is bogus anyway so why not disbandon it entirely

Concluding: I'd rather fucking ignore the existence of HP, come up with my own magic system based on a mix of HP magic and Age of the Five stuff, and re-name any HP-inspired characters or ocs (that had HP lastnames bc of their family relationships), than having to deal with all of those things for my fics, bloody hell

Lmk if I missed any other more obvious plotholes or moral failings of HP canon!

[moved-to-void-kissed]

Secrets in the Springs

Document link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1WDYCocrod_P7bcyH9DIaacjpIXv9I8r-UEkdmWANdxw/edit?usp=sharing

Sapphire, Pyra, Mythra, Nia and Poppi spend an evening relaxing together in Mor Ardain’s famous hot springs, where a couple of secrets begin to reveal themselves. In the process, Pyra makes an important decision. (1650 words) Replaces the XC2 cutscene “Secret in the Springs” from the start of Chapter 4. Content warning for some description of an old significant physical injury.

Tag list (use this to be added to it!): @softskiesahead | @dragonsmooch | @thatslikesometaldude | @lilacslovers | @insomniaships | @goldenworldsabound | @setzale | @candyforthebrain | @elf-and-a-heart

This is a piece I originally posted to my old blog, but I’ve updated it slightly to reflect some changes to the storyline and figured it would be good to post again! Don’t worry, it’s mostly much happier than the previous writing I posted here - especially once you get to the end, hehe~

Reblogs are appreciated, but by no means required! Comments should be on, and there’s also a transcript of the document under the readmore!

The sandstorms from earlier in the day had thankfully settled down - the evening was still very warm, but a soft wind drifting through Alba Cavanich made the heat much more pleasant. Behind the inn that rested on Smùide Mountain, the group had taken the opportunity to relax in the local hot springs - Rex and Tora had gone earlier in the evening and appeared much more refreshed for the experience, but now it was the ladies’ bathing slot, and all of them were eager to spend the evening enjoying a relaxing bath together.

Sapphire in particular was not used to the arid conditions on Mor Ardain’s Titan, given that her homeland within Uraya was a much more subdued and watery kingdom, so she also relished the opportunity to try out the hot springs. By the time she had gotten ready, Poppi was already happily playing about in the springs, while Nia had her back to the entrance and only her head was above the water. Finally, Sapphire tentatively poked her head around the corner of the changing room, so that it was all that could be seen from within the baths themselves.

“It’s just us here, right?”

“Yeah, don’t worry!” Nia turned her head to smile, though Sapphire did think she looked somewhat nervous. “The inn seemed pretty much empty when we first got here, so I don’t reckon anyone else’ll be coming in.”

Poppi nodded in agreement. “Probability of interruption from other people very small. Therefore, is perfect time for all to enjoy springs together. The water very nice temperature, even for Poppi!”

“Hang on.. Should you even be in the bath?” Nia had turned back to face the mechanical girl, and was now looking at her with a tilted head to show confusion. “Won’t you rust or something?”

In response, Poppi shook her head and kept smiling, eyes bright as ever. “There no problem. Poppi made from special alloy. No rust or need for oil!” The faint orange glow of her leg joints was visible even through the water, showing that she was kicking them back and forth in her usual manner.

Sapphire smiled at this, only to then jump when she realised Pyra was standing right behind her. Except it wasn’t Pyra - where she expected to see kind red eyes instead lay cold golden ones, and the familiar short bob of red hair was replaced by flowing blonde strands.

“Wh- Mythra?!”

“Yeah?” She looked unamused.

“Sorry, mate, you really startled me there!”

Wanting to give Mythra some space, Sapphire stepped out from behind the entrance to the changing room into the proper springs area, prompting Poppi to look surprised and Nia to turn around because of that. Although she still had a towel around her body, the other girls could now all see several swathes of what looked like very old grazes on Sapphire’s arms and the backs of her legs. They seemed to have healed, yet still appeared somewhat serious.

“Wait, what happened to you?!” Mythra was first to speak up, sounding more worried than she ever really had. Her usual short temper still shone through, however - she seemed almost annoyed for not noticing the injuries beforehand.

“Oh, these?” Sapphire raised her arms halfheartedly, looking somewhat embarrassed. “Don’t worry. These are just left over from.. how I got to Uraya. Don’t worry, most of it’s all healed up by now. So nothing’s going to mess up the water or anything, I promise.”

There was a silence.

“..I guess I never told you guys about that, huh.”

“No, you didn’t. Not that I was awake for, anyway.” said Mythra.

“You don’t ‘ave to tell us if you don’t want to, though.” Nia added. “Only share what you’re comfortable with.”

Sapphire nodded. “Thanks, Nia. Um.. this isn’t exactly the place to go all in-depth about that kind of thing, so, ah.. I’ll just say that, from what I know, my parents and I were on a ship crossing the Cloud Sea when it capsized and got washed into Uraya’s Titan. A bit like you guys did, I guess, though there was.. a lot more of an impact. Honestly, I don’t even know how I managed to stick around long enough for Dad and his mercs to find me on one of their checkups.”

“Oh.. Are you sure you’re okay? That must have been hard..” continued Mythra, still looking worried. There was a flash of glowing energy, and suddenly Pyra was stood in her place, looking even more concerned.

“I’m so sorry for what happened to you, Sapphire! Nobody should have to go through such a horrible thing..”

“Pyra, please, I’m fine! It’s okay!” Sapphire said, a little too suddenly - quickly realising her mistake, she hastily tried to recover: “I- I really appreciate that you care so much, but, I promise I’m fine. Come on, let’s just enjoy the springs together.”

As she turned around to put her towel on the rocks behind her before lowering herself into the blissfully warm water, the true extent of Sapphire’s injuries became clearer - the old grazes were nothing in comparison to the massive streak of half-healed scar tissue covering most of her back and shoulders. Parts of it seemed to somehow reflect the low light from the torches and the glow of Poppi and Pyra’s Core Crystals, as if there were tiny specks of something shiny in there.

Nia’s worried expression had returned. “Saph, that really doesn’t look good.. You sure you’re alright?”

“Yes!” She still seemed slightly on-edge, but being in the water was clearly very relaxing for her. “I already said, it doesn’t really hurt. I’ve had all this for as long as I can remember; it’s just how I am. Trust me, it was a lot worse when I was little.”

“Poppi worried about Sapphire..” said Poppi, sounding sad. The stillness of the water and the glowing lights visible under its surface showed that she wasn’t playing about anymore.

“Aww, it’s okay, Poppi!” Sapphire turned and smiled at her again. “I’m fine, honestly!”

Pyra still wasn’t convinced. “You’d tell us if you weren’t, though, right..?” She crouched down at the side of the water and reached over to take Sapphire’s hand in her own.

“Of course I would, silly. Come on in, the water is amazing..”

This made Pyra feel more at ease, and she happily took the chance to sit next to Sapphire, who in turn was all the more grateful to be able to enjoy Pyra’s natural warmth in close proximity. Another silence then settled, though this one was much more natural, and the girls were able to take the time to properly enjoy the heat of the water and relax in the hot springs.

Eventually, never the quiet one, Poppi had something to say.

“Poppi has question for Nia.”

“Huh?”

“Why does Nia have-?” The artificial Blade’s inquisitive tone was quickly interrupted by none other than Nia herself, who at this point was almost entirely submerged in the water.

“Oh, I know what you’re gonna say, I think. Don’t- don’t worry about it.”

At this point, Mythra returned, automatically shifting away from Sapphire as she turned to face Nia herself. “I had noticed, too. It’s true, then, that you’re..?” She trailed off, not knowing how to properly word her own question.

“Mmm.. yeah.”

Mythra nodded. “Do you want us to keep it a secret?”

“I was.. a little bit embarrassed about all this, but.. Yeah, if you could, that’d be grand. Not like I could hide it here when it’s this dark, anyway. As long as you guys are all okay with me being here, then-”

“Of course, mate!” “Poppi is fine!” “Why wouldn’t we?”

The chorus of reassuring voices brought her an incredible comfort.

“Thanks, guys.”

==========

Later that evening, once everyone had retired to their rooms for the night, Mythra noticed within herself that Pyra seemed nervous.

“Something wrong?”

“What? No! I mean.. We share memories, so you’d know if something was wrong, surely?”

“I guess that’s true. But, you seemed like you were coming to a decision of some kind. And I mean, I don’t really wanna pry if I don’t have to.”

“Haha, thank you for that.. And, you’re right about the decision. So, um, Mythra - what do you think about Sapphire?”

“Uh.. she seems pretty nice? But she isn’t someone you want to make angry, given how mad she was at Malos and Akhos. I wasn’t awake yet for all that time you two spent journeying through Uraya, so this was kind of the first time I’ve gotten to interact with her properly. I can’t say I was expecting you to get into a relationship, but.. You two make a good fit for each other, even if she is a little more energetic than you tend to be.”

“You really think so?”

“Wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.”

“Ah, I suppose you’re right.. Sorry!”

“Why’d you ask that, anyway?”

“Well, it’s just, um.. It was so great for me to know that she’d be able to come with us after we left Uraya. I know she’s probably still worried about Vandham, but.. if his injuries have really been patched up as well as they seemed to, then he should recover without too much of a problem, right?”

“Yeah, Nia said Dromarch was able to get him stable once I took Obrona out and the ether came back.”

“Right, that was it. And, um.. Since we’ve been here in Mor Ardain, I’ve been thinking about something, and.. after that time we all spent together tonight, and being around her like that, I think I’ve figured it out. Sapphire is the person I really want to be with, for the rest of my life. ..However much longer that even ends up being.

I have no idea how I’m going to go about it, but..

I think I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

[beautifulterriblequeen]

B2:S - Chapter 4

Much of this series will be about the differences and additions in the novel version, and how they contribute to my understanding of story canon. But there will be character appreciation, the odd theory and headcanon, and suchlike as well.

Here be Viren being villainous, Rayla, Claudia, Soren, and Callum, and tons of culture clash themey stuff

and a tw: animal death, Claudia why

Spoilers for Book Two: Sky below.

Viren's scenes in Book Two: Sky are all amazing because they're full of worldbuilding and character building details. I love to study the word choices used from his perspective. They're so tasty. Like how he forced a servant, and also Soren, to carry his messages to the rookery, so that he never had to go himself. I'm really curious why Viren is forcing a servant, whose job is literally to serve, here. He really only has to ask. Maybe he was mean about it on purpose, or maybe he picked a servant who was afraid of birds just to flex on them. Whatever the reason for the word choice, Viren doesn't seem to like servants' jobs, it seems, especially when they take him somewhere with poop on the floor. It makes it all the more ironic that he sweeps Runaan's cell clean himself, then, humbling himself before he finally figures out the mirror.

Viren's secretive, right down to his very carefully chosen words to those around him, but his true thoughts shine through even more clearly in the book than in the show. He knows he's been sneaking and hiding stuff, and he knows that some of those actions would be called treachery. Stealing the king's seal to forge royal documents is up there on the treacherous list, but it's apparently not there alone. Ah, Viren, such a villainous delight. What have you gotten up to?

The way he thinks of and treats Crow Master is ageist and classist, but certain lines also hint that Viren has spent a lot of time memorizing the finer points of proper courtesy, and he expects others to have done the same. There are many reasons someone might put forth such effort: a commoner trying to better himself to be noticed by a kind prince is a nice version. A sociopath learning to fake caring about rich people so he can blend in with them is less nice. Superconveniently, the skills a young, earnest Viren might use to feel worthy of Harrow's attention will serve him just as well when dark magic ravages his empathy and he has to lie to everyone about how dead he is inside in order to keep his position of power. Until he's not lying anymore and he straight up threatens poor Crow Master with death unless he sends illegal mail for him. There's the Viren we know and uhhhhhh

Rayla and the blue rose! It's so fun to see inside her head here. She acted swiftly in the last chapter to save herself from Claudia's sleep spell, but now that she has to lie there, that thorn really hurts! She wishes she maybe had a different plan instead of playing asleep.

I hope Rayla only calls Claudia's voice "awful" because of association. I love Claudia's raspy voice! It's so neat! Rayla immediately recognizes it as Claudia's, from the castle and identifies her as a dark mage, with a clanky-metal warrior beside her. She gets mad at Soren for apparently calling killing a sport, even though that's not what he said at all. Soren's using an unfamiliar, maybe old-fashioned term, and Rayla's taking it very literally. It's like Viren and Runaan are arguing through them. A fun little example of culture clash.

Also digging the fact that Rayla knows what sleeping breathing looks like, as opposed to awake breathing, for the purposes of faking someone out. Did she just. Perch in a tree over Runaan and Ethari as they napped after a picnic and watched them sleep, or did Runaan help her sneak around the Silvergrove to spy on sleeping elves for training purposes? Also, raise your hand if you've faked sleep breathing to fool someone. that's not just me right

Rayla's sass is a constant delight. Whenever she's up against an enemy, she is outwardly fearless and full of witty taunts and comments, and I love her so much. where could she have learned this from I also love that she can't help but flex on Soren about her technique. It seems that her attitude is part "never show fear" and part "humans are liars."

Claudia and Soren were trying to kill Rayla to save the princes from her. But Rayla was also intent on killing both of them right back. And she wasn't ever gonna tell Callum and Ez about that. Woah. First Harrow, now this. That whole "death and secrets" thing really sank in with her, didn't it? Crack voice in the back of my brain: Ethari does know Runaan stabs people, right, he does know that?

Interesting change of detail from show to book: in the show, Claudia overheats Rayla's swords with some green splattery goo from a little glass jar. In the book, uhhh. She grabs a live bird and squishes it to cast the spell. Eew. Really making a point of dark magic's inherent violence today, I see. Got it.

"Rayla, pipe down." Callum still has a ways to go on how to win friends and influence people here. Everyone's shouting, he's interrupted to save Rayla's life (or so he thinks), and when Rayla shouts that his friends tried to kill her, he tells her--and no one else--to pipe down. Followed soon by "but a 'good' elf." Ahgod. He doesn't think he's taking sides, but he's got two humans versus one elf, and he's a human himself, and his underlying biases are showing. He's 14, and he's willing to learn, though--and he really does learn and grow over time. But this version of this scene was just. So. Painfully. Awkward.

I feel like this version was part of a larger theme I'm seeing throughout the first half of the book, emphasizing that Callum comes from years of having a crush on Claudia, and it takes many scenes with Claudia and with Rayla to shift through several gears with each of them in order to facilitate the possibility of breaking with Claudia and then also of falling for Rayla, in a way that feels organic within the structure of the story being told.

Also Callum super has a type and it's Girls Who Will Commit Murder. I don't make the rules.

Rayla's defense just attacks Callum's word choice: "What do you mean, 'but a good elf'? Do you know any bad elves?" And I just. Rayla, honey. You're not in any better of a spot than Callum right now. Your mentor literally stabs people to death. You're both literally assassins. Some humans could accept most elves, but they might draw the line at assassins.

But this tiny clash in the midst of this war, this single exchange of words, is such a great microcosm, the war made personal. It's early enough in their adventure and their growth that they're still sounding a lot like their parents. And that includes Claudia! She demands to know how an elf can be good, and Callum allows that it's possible for good elves to exist, but he has to be the one to say it, not the actual elf behind him. And the actual elf behind him insists that her kind are all good, thank you very much, and implying otherwise skirts very close to "humans are liars."

It's quite a tangle, but having the main characters tangled up like this shows us that as they untangle themselves in their own personal situations, they're learning things about human and elven hearts, about relationships and family, and those things are universal truths which they can use to help them understand other people's troubles, as well as the larger issues involved in the war they're trying to stop.

Callum assessing--and then reassessing--his confidence level. It's adorable, and it serves to show that his first scrambling attempt to make peace, in which he messed up a little but at least no one died--won't be his last. He's not really sure how this is gonna go. Everything is new. But he's dedicated to peace, and he's not giving up. He did just run in between Soren and his target while Soren was holding a sword.

He keeps doing that. Standing in front of people who have their weapons raised in his direction. And he does it with a ridiculous amount of chill. Is this Sarai's influence on him? Considering that Harrow has kept his distance, maybe so! I'd love that.

This chapter ends with some fun relationship drama when Callum gets butterflies in his stomach at being around Claudia again. She tucks a strand of hair behind his ear, and he forgets all about telling her about smashing her primal stone. He instantly worries that Rayla saw her gesture, which of course she did. Callum's nervousness and Rayla's glare feel to me like they're supposed to fit into a tactical box instead of a romantic box, but I can see how it could be interpreted the other way. Callum just intervened in a fight that Rayla completely intended to end by secretly killing Claudia and Soren, so in Rayla's mind, she's probably convinced that Callum intervened to save his girlfriend's life, while he's sure that he just saved Rayla's. She's probably angry because Claudia's gesture is making her think that Callum only seemed to be trying to save Rayla when his true intention was to save Claudia all along.

Dun dun dunnnnnnn.