#for the record my peace lily is huge compared to that sorry thing

[episims]

Once upon a time, I built a replica of my own apartment, and then went 'oof this is too recognizable, I can't share this'.

Now found the pictures and wondered why I never posted them lol.

Looks more spacious than it is because of the lack of half-tile placement for walls.

Was also tricky to build a (fake) small sauna! These are common here, more so than bathtubs are.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

What if moonshadow elves lost knowledge about themselves?

Hello, hope you have a nice day ! :D

(wait, is it day, for you?) hem! Anyway.

I was analylzing Moonshadow elves again and now I’m asking myself something, wonder what you would think about it:

Remember my “epiphany about the moon arcanum”?, when I said there’s maybe another side of their arcanum Moonshadow elves don’t know about? Something more life-light related:hope.

At first I said “they don’t know about” without really thinking about it. But, what if it’s true? I mean, what if there truly is a part they don’t know about their arcanum, or maybe forgot along the years? What if the war made Moonshadow elves focus so much on death-kill and all they kinda…. lost some of their knowledge about themselves? 

(I think I remember one of your old analysis (I think it was you, I can’t find it anymore), where you compared “young ethari” in the endcredits to the actual one. Where we saw him first doing jewelry, full of hope about life, and the actual one who let that aside to focus on the war) 

Add to this their community is described as “really close-knit”, which means more or less isolationism and so a stagnant, unable to evolve society. A society where the same rules were applied for centuries and so inevitably lost their deep meaning with time. 

I thought it was maybe exaggerated to think this way, but then I remembered the creators said there is 5000years of history in TDP. Even with longer lifespan, there’s no way elves didn’t forget some things with time. (I compare this situation to another one: some discoveries were recently made in egypt, and we learned that a few thousands years ago egyptian themselves re-discovered things they had discovered several centuries prior and forgot)

So I tried to find proof in the show and the novelization, and guess what? We have some! (or, well, it’s more my HC, but as I said, it’ just a theory)

I think this way especially because of Runaan, who was so sure there was “only one way to release”. But then, Zym came and cut Rayla’s ribbon. My personal HC on this is that only the life who was supposed to be avenged can release the assassin from the binding. It would make sense when you know Moonshadow elves “take life but they do not take it lightly”. But even if I’m mistaking, the central fact is that there is more than one way and, clearly, Moonshadow elves don’t know it (if the leader of the assassins doesn’t, then who could?)

What I find interesting here, is that Runaan recites this ritual at the beginning, about how precious life is, like a litany but the way he insists (especially in the novel) about killing Ezran even after he saw the egg, could be the proof it’s just that, a ritual. A ritual whose words lost all their sense, their deep meaning for his people.

Ok, it’s not much, but I think the combination of isolationism, stucking to rules without understanding them deeply and time, is the perfect recipe to lose your way, no? 

Oh, and a crazy other point in between these two theories about “hope” and “lost knowledge” woud be: If there is another aspect of the moon, other elves more hope-related (like Ethari or Rayla), why not another form?

Like sunfire elves have heat and light-being mode, Moonshadow elves could have something else too?. It’s probably stupid, I’m only thinking this way because of how Rayla feels while in moonshadow form in the novelization. It’s not that she hates it or something, but it makes her feel dizzy, as if she wasn’t suited for this. And if not, maybe it’s because she’s suited for another form? 

(sorry, I hope I’m coherent on this one, I’m a little exhausted and my thoughts are a little messy ^^’)

______________

Okay, @lily-lilou​, just let me catch my breath, this whole thing is a ride and I loved it. We definitely vibing here, fam.

whew

Okay, from the top, because I’ve had a lot of these thoughts myself and I’m so stoked to see someone else independently coming up with them!

Yes 100% to Moonshadows losing a part of their own history. (And yeah, I do have a post somewhere on Ethari’s evolution. Probably called it that iirc) If we’re right about Moonshadows having lived in Katolis before the lands were divided, living right near their own Nexus as the Sunfires still do, then when they packed up and left, it’s very possible they literally couldn’t bring everything with them.

I have a quirky little hc that there are still, to this day, Moonshadow villages hiding behind ancient protection spells in Katolis, and that people wander past them every day and have no idea. But it’s one thing not to be able to pack up your actual village. It’s another to leave behind records of your people’s past, their accomplishments and dealings and discoveries.

*eyes Lujanne’s truly massive library, with its huge walls covered in runes and books* This is where the full history of the Moonshadow people probably is kept. And no one has access to it but her.

Those who headed east would only know what they carried with them, and what was handed down orally through the generations. But see, if my headcanon about the Moonshadow assassins being created at that time ends up being true, then that’s probably bad news for history and truth. When you create a whole new class within your culture, you need to bolster it with ideology. You use myth, cultural norms, and current events to make it seem important.

You tell everyone that being an assassin is the most honorable job there is. And then it’s suddenly cool to be an assassin. 

If there were no Moonshadow assassins before the humans were booted out west, then everything Runaan says to Rayla, everything he believes, is pretty young compared to his people’s full history, which he may not know, at least in its true and undistorted form. It’s an illusion. Rhetoric. Propaganda meant to hold soft elves who deeply value life to the hardest task they’ll ever undertake: taking that life from another, for a cause they cannot turn away from, a purpose they are culturally indebted to. Because their people, their princess (?), was the one who asked for the humans to be spared, and so every mistake the humans make from that point on is the Moonshadow elves’ duty to handle.

Runaan was wrong about how many ways there are to release. Has Zym truly been the only victim who wasn’t actually dead, in a whole thousand years? Honestly, probably not, knowing how politics works. But see, if you have an elite squad devoted to serving Xadia, and you tell them that their hands will literally fall off and they will die if they don’t do their jobs because there is only one way to release the ribbon they’re honor-bound to wear, they will take their target or die trying. And if you maybe exaggerated reports of the victim’s death for political purposes and actually have them in a dungeon, or they fled to the human lands as a refugee, or any number of other squirrelly options that Moonshadows aren’t naturally inclined to consider, then you can literally get away with murder-by-proxy. Or containment. Or intimidation. Or whatever your purpose is in taking out a human target who may or may not even be guilty of the crime you allege against them. It might not even be Zubeia and Avizandum’s fault. Unless they can detect truth and lies, they can be deceived by someone unscrupulous with an agenda of their own.

Long paragraph long, there are a lot of problems with the existence and practical duties of Moonshadow assassins. They’re kind of like the War Doctor: born form conflict, and thus only able to serve it, instead of peace. Yes, we all want Runaan to get his happy ending, retire, go home to his soft husband. But really, the whole institution of the assassins needs to go. It was born of war, and if Xadia and the human lands make peace, truly, then the assassins should be dissolved. As I said in one of my fics, Moonshadow assassins are Xadia’s dark magic, turning death into power. It’s gotta stop on both sides.

One of my oneshots for January’s Ruthari Week played with the idea of Ethari having a moonform instead of a shadowform, because yes to elves having two kinds of forms in each culture! I would love to see that for all the elves. And if we use Sunfire elves as a kind of roadmap, with “sun” and “fire” being the heat- and light-beings, then maybe the other elves get their two forms from their names as well. Or so my headcanon went for that fic: a moon form to balance the shadow form, where the elf’s body can glow like the full moon. I didn’t really touch on what that form’s ability would be, but I suppose, logically, it would serve as a portable full moon, powering other nearby Moonshadows even when the moon was down, or new, or a small crescent.

Okay, that’s just fun. I like that idea a lot. The only time “just stand there and look pretty” can be used as a battle tactic!

I can see Rayla getting to have the rare Moonshadow power. That would make her a good balance for Callum and his unusual arcanum as a human. Part misfit, part superpower. It would also probably be a power that puts her closer to Ethari’s soft and protective attitude, no matter what the power really is, since the assassins in Moonshadow culture have clearly adopted their natural shadowy form as a mission tactic, attacking specifically on full moon nights. Literally any other kind of power is probably going to be softer, lighter, more lively and bright, in concept if not literally so. Maybe the other power kicks in on new moons? or is available at any time? I really hope we get a second Moonshadow power of some kind. I am down for all the extra worldbuilding!

Thanks once again for your thoughts! *fist bump* Moonshadow elves. You get it.

[smolfangirl]

A little fresa story II

I am baaaack! It’s more from our favorite parents, and it makes me so so happy to see you love them as much as I do while writing them! This is especially for @xnivesgray who celebrates getting older today and although she likes to torture me with N*co and whatelse not (ken you not?), I enjoy talking to her a lot. So, happy Birthday, Jenni! :D

Also thanks to @huffletiika for helping out with Gastina’s kid, and @miris-xo luckily I had Gastón as the punny godfather already planned so I hope you’re happy too hehe

And to everyone else, I hope you like reading this part as much as the first *-*

Edit: Another thing, because it was brought up several times now: @ac-ars and @sky-girls used the name Rory first. I used my own brain to end up with this name (also because of my roommate who is obsessed with Gilmore Girls and keeps trying to talk me into watching it), which is why I didn’t give them any credit.

Word count: 3.2k

///

Meeting her

Over the years, Matteo went quite many times through an outburst of happiness. During his first kiss with Luna. When he found out he got a record deal, all on his own. When he worked on his debut album, finally, after the disappointment with Vidia. When he performed in front of a huge crowd for the first time, when people screamed his name and cheered just because he held a microphone.

Those are golden memories and he still finds a rush of emotion like this in his everyday life. When he skates, when he writes a new song, or when he fights with Luna and feels sorry even before they can take a breath to apologize. Emotions inevitably belong to his life now. They’re no longer a burden he pushes down or a weakness he tries to hide behind a mask of confidence. Long gone is the young insecure boy he was at 16, and Matteo likes that. He likes embracing these feelings now, good or bad. It’s great to look back at his past, to see the mistakes and lessons he learned, and to realize they led him to a present filled with happiness.

So, a rush of emotions isn’t new to him at all, yet, in this very moment, he’s drowning in his emotions. Drowns in their intensity, in their depth and in their power.

In this very moment, he knows nothing he ever felt before can compare to this experience, not in his whole life ever.

Luna lays next to him, with sweat glistening on her forehead. Her breath hasn’t returned back to its usual calm rhythm yet, but she’s smiling. She’s smiling so brightly she puts every light in the sky to shame as the midwife carefully places a small bundle in her arms.

It’s not any small bundle, though. No, this bundle is their daughter.

Tears drop on his cheek before Matteo even fully sees her. Luna’s tearing up too. Her eyes search for his, as if to assure herself that this is real, that she’s not dreaming, and that the same sense of wonder overwhelms him too. Smiling back at her, he hopes she sees he shares the same love for someone who is so new to their lives but already changes everything.

She’s barely ten minutes old, her tiny body tucked in a soft blanket to keep her warm. With her eyes closed, she begins to suck on Luna’s breast. She’s so, so small.

And she’s perfect.

Sitting down next to her, he slowly lets his finger caress his daughter’s cheek before he presses a kiss on Luna’s forehead. “You did it, little moon. She’s beautiful,” Matteo whispers before his voice cracks and he rubs another tear away.

His fiancé smiles, or smiles more, to be correct. “She is,” Luna agrees so fondly Matteo’s heart bursts in his chest. “I love you so much, little one,” she adds and slowly strokes their daughter.

Their daughter.

Nine months of preparations and excitement, and he still struggles to grasp he has his own little family now. It doesn’t help that those months flew by so quickly, that they passed him in the blink of an eye. At the mere thought a shiver runs over his spine. These months are his new past, another chapter is beginning, and it’s greater and more exciting than any other part of his life.

Matteo vows to himself to make it a good one, for Luna. For their family.

“Do you need anything, princesa?” he asks and gently lets his hand wander over her arm. “Another pillow? Water? Tamales? I’m sure your mom is just waiting to bring you a world of tamales if you want.”

Luna shakes her head. Holds their baby girl closer, glimpses up at him. “No… I just want to enjoy this with you.”

Matteo chuckles, at the same time he feels more tears rushing into his eyes. “Sounds perfect to me, little moon.” He lays down and robs closer, careful to not disturb their little girl. Luna shifts until her head rests against his shoulders.

In the corner of his vision, the midwife bustles around, cleans up, takes note after note. (And a few pictures for them to keep.) Luna’s messy bun tickles him. The sweat makes her skin stick to his. He forgot to get a pillow for himself, so he leans against the cold, hard headpiece of their bed.

But none of these things catch this attention. None of these things matter.

Instead, the whole world is far, far away.

He feels Luna, feels peace and love and happiness dancing through his whole body. He sees their girl soon sleeping in Luna’s arms. Sees her tiny hand with the tinier fingers wrapping around the one he reaches out to her. He sees the smile tugging on Luna’s lips, and the affection in her gaze.

The whole world is far, far away while they stay in their delicate bubble, trying to process this little miracle.

///

After the midwife asks if they settled on a name yet and they both signed the birth certificate, Luna tilts her head towards Matteo.

“Do you want to hold her?” she asks. Her voice carries this hint of encouragement showing him how easily she recognizes how nervous he is about holding her for the first time.

Slowly, he nods.

His breath hitches and his heart misses a beat as she settles little Aurora in his arms. With her 3.210 grams, she’s both heavy and light and so fragile. A fit of panic heats up his cheeks, he’s scared he’s holding her wrong, scared he might hurt her or make her cry. He throws Luna a helpless glance, but then she smiles and gives him a nod.

Matteo takes a deep breath. Glimpses at his daughter, lets him feel through the overwhelm, the anxiety, the happiness.

“Hello, my little chica fresa,” he utters, then pauses before he presses a kiss on her face. Two kisses, a million and one kisses. “Daddy is so happy to finally meet you, Lily Aurora, and you are so beautiful, do you know that? The most beautiful, and I love you so, so much.”

“Corny much, chico fresa?” Luna teases, but the affection paints a crack into her voice before Matteo can even mock her back. Holding his baby daughter closer, he sticks his tongue out at her and steals a kiss from Luna, and a second one.

“Yes, and I also love you very, very much, Luna.”

“I love you too, Matteo.”

“Even when I’m corny?” he grins and sits down again so she can snuggle up. She chuckles, resting her hand on his stomach, kissing Rory’s forehead. “Even then, forever and always,” Luna replies.

And corny or not, this is all Matteo ever wanted from life.

///

To Matteo’s surprise, the first person isn’t Monica, or Miguel, or even his own parents. Instead, he finds Gastón on the doorstep. He grins so wide it covers his whole face, and he holds both a bouquet and a bag full of gifts in his hands.

“Gastón! That’s a surprise!”

“I came as soon as I could,” he pants and shoves the bouquet into Matteo’s arms. “Nina is stuck at work, but the gifts are from her too. Are your parents here already?”

Drowned by the waterfall of words unleashed upon him, Matteo blinks. “Um. No, actually, you are the first.”

Stepping in, the grin on Gastón’s face makes room for a frown. “Nice. Hey, wait. What’s up with that face of yours? Did the birth freeze your brain?”

A second in silence. Matteo still struggles to catch up, while his best friend waits for an answer. “I’m just… I can’t believe you’re here. And the first one at that! Weren’t you out of town for this conference?”

Gastón pats his arm. “Aww, I’m glad to see you too. And yes, I was in fact out of town, although you don’t need to worry your cute little head about that.”

On second thought, Matteo’s surprise fades. He should’ve seen this coming, Gastón had been there so many times whenever he needed him, day and night. Of course he’ be there for Matteo’s daughter as soon as she was born, too. “Well, okay, then I’m just very glad that you are here.” He pulls his best friend into a hug, hoping to make up for his confusion.

“Amazing. Now, how is my godchild?”

Matteo leads Gastón into the kitchen, where he unloads gift after gift on the dining table. The paper is full of shiny suns and moons, and Matteo tries his hardest not to roll his eyes. “Sleeping. Luna is too,” he explains instead.

“Did everything go well?”

“Luckily, it did, yes.” Just thinking about the moment Luna turned to him, a little pale, and announced with a shaking voice that she had contractions, gives him goosebumps. Not even 24 hours ago he was calling the midwife, yet it feels like an eternity away.

“But?” Gastón asks.

“But I still feel like I died a thousand times. I never should’ve agreed to this whole home birth thing, I can’t believe she talked me into that. The midwife took ages to show up, apparently the traffic was super bad, and I was this close to just calling an ambulance for Luna, but you know her…”

Gastón raises one eyebrow and laughs. “She wasn’t very fond of that idea?”

Leaning against the counter, Matteo shakes his head. His hand ruffles through his hair when he recalls their discussion, fight perhaps even. “She yelled at me like I was Satan trying to take her soul or something. I felt like she wanted to divorce me before we’re even married.”

With both their nerves thinned out from waiting through the first contractions, they weren’t the gentlest with each other, and he figures they owe a lot to their midwife that the tension resolved way before their daughter saw the light of day.

“But she’s fine, right? So, it’s all good,” his best friend throws in, as if he didn’t completely freak out when Nina went into labor three years ago. (Not that Matteo will point that out. For now.)

He nods, smiling. It’s true, both Luna and his baby girl are fine, making him nothing less than the happiest man on earth - Will he feel like hugging the whole world every time he realizes his luck?

“Yes, you’re right, she is. Even the midwife was surprised how quickly it went, she said we were lucky it didn’t drag on for a day or more. But Luna is still very exhausted.”

Gastón musters him, how he stands against the counter, unable to stop smiling now that his brain catches up on reality again. “While you look like a young foal too excited to even think about sleeping,” he comments, then shakes his head slightly. “I can’t wait to pay you back for all the jokes you made about how tired I was after Felicia was born.”

“Hmm,” Matteo mutters much less excited. Mentally, he already began preparing for these jokes long before Gastón even knew about Luna’s pregnancy, and that includes the inevitable puns about his daughter’s name. “Hey, do you mind if I go check on them? But we have to be quiet, I don’t want to wake any of them up.”

“Is there a reason you’re not telling me her name? Are you doing that on purpose?”

There it is. Will Luna be mad at him if he spills it although she’s not there to witness his reaction? He’s not keen on finding out.

“Yup.”

///

Gastón is sneaky.

Matteo catches his best friend throwing around glances hoping to stumble over a hint at his godchild’s name, and it’s a miracle he fails to find any. Or maybe Matteo can thank his chica fresa for that, because the second Gastón sees her, his whole focus shifts to her.

“Awwww, look at you! Aren’t you adorable? So, so adorable!” he coos until Matteo reminds him to be quiet.

Luna still wakes up.

“Matteo?” a whisper slips over her lips and he’s by her side in a heartbeat. “Hey, little moon. Are you feeling better?”

She nods slowly, eyes blinking open. A smile hushes over her face when she spots Gastón leaning over little Aurora’s crib. “Gastón, hi, what a surprise.”

Gastón whirls around, excitement lighting up his expressions and the grin tugging on his lips hurts from simply looking at it. “Hello, Luna! I feel congratulations are in order! She’s almost as cute as Felicia.”

Matteo snorts, arms crossed as he sits down on the bed. “You didn’t congratulate me, and I was involved in this, too, you know.”

Before the last word leaves into the air, Gastón has him pinned down on the bed and squeezes him so tight he might actually break a rib or two.

Or maybe his whole ribcage.

“Matteo, congratulations, you are really good at getting laid, I knew you could do it! I am the proudest!” Gastón exclaims a bit too loud without letting go in the slightest.

“Easy, boy, easy, let me go, will ya? I’d like my daughter to grow up with her dad…”

“Okidoki.” He lets go. While Matteo gasps for air, Luna and Gastón snicker, the traitors.

“So, since both Luna and you are awake now… may I finally learn the name you chose for my godchild?”

Matteo freezes a bit.

If he’s honest, he’s been afraid of that moment. Not so afraid that his heart beats faster or his knees get weak, but enough to want to dread this moment for a little longer. Too many puns did he have to bear after he met Luna, too many at every single point of their relationship, and so far, Gastón hasn’t run out of them. Probably won’t anytime soon either.

Matteo looks at Luna, who’s tilting her head in a subtle nod. He sighs.

Gastón grins.

“Lily Aurora.”

The grin deepens. “Oh my god.” A pause in which Matteo sees a pun forming in his best friend’s brain. Or to be correct, the puns, everything else wouldn’t make sense for Gastón. “Thanks for enlightening me! What a beautiful name. I bet she will be a real sunshine!”

After that, Matteo just stops listening.

///

Unlike Gastón, their parents are too whipped by little Lily Aurora to speak. He wonders who fell head over heels first: Monica holding her in his arms with the softest smile and tears in her eyes, Miguel muttering too many things at once for Matteo to understand while pulling grimaces at Rory, or his own parents sniffing into a tissue.

Either way, they all seem to never want to let her go.

“Do you think they’ll give her back to us?” he whispers to Luna, who rests her head on his shoulder. As she chuckles, Matteo wraps his arm around her and presses a gentle kiss on her hair. “Probably not,” she replies, shaking her head. “I can’t believe she hasn’t started crying yet over so many new people. Is that normal?”

As if Rory waited for the cue, she releases a whine. Luna exchanges a quick look with Matteo, eyes wide open, then turns to their parents. “Give her to me,” she says seconds before their baby girl releases a high-pitched cry and their parents stop arguing over who gets to hold her next. Monica hands her over just as she grunts, and the expectant glares on his young family create a nervous tingle on Matteo’s skin. It’s the first time his chica fresa really screams, the first time Matteo’s heart wrenches at the sound of her crying and the first time both Luna and him try to calm her down.

“Shh, mommy is here, everything’s fine, darling,” Luna mumbles, rocking her back and forth in her arms, but it takes a few minutes for their little one to stop screaming. Even then, she’s moving around a lot, stretching and gawking at everyone around her.

“You missed your mommy, huh?” Matteo coos at Rory, not sure how he is supposed to handle this emotional rollercoaster, the worry and the happiness pounding in his chest when she stares back at him. “Too many people for such a little girl? Maybe you should wet your diaper, I’m sure you could scare everyone off with that.”

Luna rolls her eyes at him, however a grin tugs at the corner of her mouth. “Don’t give her ideas now, chico fresa. You can change nappies as much as you want soon enough.”

His comment gets cut off by his mom, who huffs and before one word leaves her lips Matteo already suspects her to reveal something particularly embarrassing about his childhood – it wouldn’t be the first time. Most likely not the last one either... “You might want to pray she won’t be half as bad as you, your digestion as a baby was…”

“Mom!”

Nudging his shoulder, Luna lets out a laugh. If it wasn’t directed at his mom, he’d think how beautiful it sounded, and how their daughter hopefully would have the same cute laugh. “Come on, Matteo, I want to hear how you shit your pants when you were little! It’s nice to hear you were a normal baby too.”

“Yeah, for you,” Matteo snorts, “Because your parents can’t tell any embarrassing stories about you as a baby.”

Miguel smirks, glancing at Monica who at least attempts to not grin along. He likes his future mother-in-law, right now even more than his giggling fiancé. “Well, we have enough from when she’s older,” Miguel says.

That’s where Luna pouts. “Dad!”

///

In the end, they both agree that Aurora had enough visitors for the day. (And definitely enough childhood stories. Matteo isn’t sure if his cheeks can get any redder, while Luna focuses a little too intendedly on Rory when her parents share old memories.)

Empty plates from their well-needed dinner pile up in the kitchen as they sink into bed again, but Matteo decides to deal with them tomorrow. For now, he only wants to enjoy the quietness in the house with his little family.

How many times is it considered okay to freak out over how cute their baby is? Because their baby girl rests in her crib, her tiny head turned towards them, and her slumber is so cute he wants to take five hundred pictures already.

“What a day,” Luna sighs and snuggles up to Matteo. He cradles her hair, while he wonders how it can be only a day ago that they laid like this, tracing Rory’s movements in Luna’s baby bump.

“And that’s just the first one,” he mumbles. “Imagine the first time she meets all of our friends. And the first time we go for a walk. And soon she’ll be smiling and babbling nonsense.” The thought amazes him. She’s so small, so precious, he has no idea how he could possibly ever get over this. His baby girl, his princesa.

Luna runs her finger slowly over his chest, tapping while she seems lost in her own thoughts. “So many first times.”

“Yeah,” Matteo smiles. “I can’t wait.”

“Me neither. I love you, chico fresa.” Her hands find his palm, embrace it before she places a tender kiss on each finger. For a moment, Matteo closes his eyes, baths in the endorphins flooding his body.

When he opens them again, Luna hovers over his lips, waiting. Smiling. He kisses her, shows her without a single word how much he loves her, but tells her again just to be sure. “I love you too.”