#love my self serving Elf so much

[star--nymph]

Hey! <3 1 for Artemis, 26 for Kass and Blaine, and 42 for Eury (or some combination of those if that's too many!)

Artemis

How does your character think of their father? What do they hate and love about him? What influence - literal or imagined - did the father have?

Ohohohoho. This can of worms you just opened up is hefty, Artemis hates his father. Loathes him. Would and will attempt to run him through if ever sees him again. Seth is a coward in his eyes; a weak shitstain of a man who puffed his medal decorated chest and then was too scared to stick around when his child turned out to be a freak of nature. He abandoned his family--his pregnant wife and child--and it wasn't for their sake, pretending like they were better off with out because of that fear. No, he left because he was just scared and wanted to protect himself. And then he disappeared while his family suffered. Was kidnapped, tortured, shredded, and murdered. Maybe he couldn't have saved them but fuck, if he had stuck around at least it meant he cared. That resentment in Artemis only grew when he become a father--a relatively young one, too. Dolly wasn't a choice, he didn't know about her, and she's an anomaly. She could absolutely end up killing Artemis one day but Artemis doesn't care. Dolly could turn out to be a full blown curse of nature and he still wouldn't leave her. The thought of abandoning her to the world like he was by his father boils Artemis' blood. So yeah, there is an influence there, in that Artemis is going to be everything his father isn't and at the same time everything he fears. He thought his baby boy was a monster? Okay, Dad, he'll give you a monster. In summary:

Kass and Blaine

26. What does your character’s home look like? Personal taste? Clothing? Hair? Appearance?

The Godkiller HQ is a former office building because that's all they could afford at the time. For the most part, it's not a bad place. They gutted one floor for training purposes, a second floor the medbay and the arsenal, a third floor for the interrogation/war room meetings, and then the upper levels are the living areas. The main living area is open concept with the kitchen and living room, loft above that leads to Blaine, Kass, Guest Room (later Asha's room), Amy's room, and Holly's room (which is combined with the surveillance). The living room has a door leading to Ryu's room and another leading to Utah's. There is also bathroom, another guest room, and a random scrap room that's also used for laundry. There is a stair case that leads directly to the roof as well. That's a lot but you asked for a home. As for Kass' personal taste/theme I guess? Kass is all sunset colors. Red, pink, yellows, oranges. Anything bright goes. I'm trying to figure out what in terms of fashion Kass is--cause she's kind of both very edgy rocker chick but also she likes very pretty clothing like dresses and mini skirts. Depending on her mood, she could be in damaged skinny jeans and boots or in a flowy summer dress. What she likes is comfortable above all else but most importantly, she always needs a leather jacket. Kass as a leather jacket for every color and if she doesn't, she'll go hunting for one. She just likes being cute, she likes being sexy, she likes her colors and glitter, she likes being able to move. She wants to feel good in her clothing and I think she's get a boost when she at least looks stylish even if she feels like shit. That said, her look for combat is all black, red, and grey--for good reason. She needs to blend in with her surroundings but her signature bright red jacket and power strips on her armor, braces, and boots key people in that she's not a civilian, but an active combatant. For Blaine, his colors are blues, useless leaning into muted hues or steel blues. He likes his pops of colors too, though. Yellows, greens, whites. I think his look is very casual and kind of loosey? Nice fitted jeans with baggy dress shirts, hoodies, sweaters. He has a lot of shirts that also have patterns too (yes he does have and happily wear Hawaiian shirts). He does that flannel over a graphic t-shirt look (the graphic is like 'local cryptic is my boyfriend', don't question it). Loves a good pair of high rise sneakers or boots. He likes wearing earrings and necklaces too. He also has a couple of bomber jackets and denim jackets. I think I'd call Blaine's entire look very...sleek? Homebody? Nerd? He does look a collar shirt under a sweater. Combat wise, Blaine is a greys and blues. Like Kass, his armor, boots and braces have subtle blue power strips running through to regulate strength and impact. Blaine's combat suit has external padding on the knees and elbows and over all has a close resemblance to a fencing uniform.

Eurydice

42. What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain?

Freedom. I don't think Eurydice is aware of how much but she hungers for freedom and choice in her life. It's the saddest part of Inquisition because nothing that brought or kept here there was her choice. Eurydice stays as First out of Duty, she leaves for the conclave out of loyalty, she is forced into the position of Herald and the Inquisitor under threat of imprisonment by human hands. She doesn't want any of those positions and for most of her life, she's be forced into a very tight place by the people controlling her. The second she has agency, she doesn't keep the Inquisition. She disbands--she leaves. She hates being Inquisitor. So much of Eury's story is about her chasing freedom and being able to choose things for herself. She chooses to be a witch without a clan, she chooses to marry Cullen, she chooses to be a mother, she choose leave. Someone once told me that Eurydice felt more at home in an AU where she was a Avvar Augur than she ever did as Inquisitor and yeah, that's by design. She chose to be an Augur. Happy Ending in every story with Eurydice? She leaves and travels the world. No one is ever able to find her unless she allows them to. I think of a worse fate for Eurydice than her being chained to the Inquisition and Chantry for the rest of her days--except the fate where she chained to her father. This is why in the Fade her tombstone would read 'Possession': Eurydice doesn't simple fear being possessed by a demon, she fears any form of agency or captivity. She fears being a Tranquil, she fears being trapped in the Circle, she fears that she is an empty, heartless shell of a person like her father says she is. She fears objectification and dehumanization. There is no way out of she doesn't have a choice. And what Eurydice is willing a lot to achieve it? Gnawing her own arm off for one, which kind of feels like what happened in Trespasser anyway? Allowing the chantry to burn? Being exiled and hated by her clan even if she loves them with all her heart? The world? Well yes in the situation where Eurydice becomes a creature of the forest with no connection to anything or anyone besides her animals and her things and her space? Then yeah, the world can burn if it means her freedom? What does she care? The world is loud anyway. Gotta love that sense of self preservation that never goes away.

[tcustodisart]

Connecticut Tav | Wood Half-Elf | Beast Master Ranger

So, this is my sheet for @bareee's @tav-dex. Went a little overboard and made a whole ass character sheet (man the last time I made one of those was so long ago). I want to write something about my cringe boy so. Buckle up because it's going to be long and poorly written (I suck at writing).

One edit because I'm a dummy, his alignment is neutral good not true neutral idk why I did that.

He was born and raised in his mom's and step-dad's tavern called Crow's Perch (not as fancy as Elf Song but in a different category as Blushing Mermaid)(the tavern thing is just for the sake of a joke that the most popular drink they serve is called 'Connecticut Water'). He has an older brother, who's a bard. Despite the description for Urchin background ("After surviving a poor and bleak childhood") he had a happy childhood, filled with love and support. The two brothers treated the whole Lower City as their playground: breaking into places just for fun, pick pocketing nobles, climbing Wyrm's Rock Fortress etc.

His love for beasts and creatures of any kind comes from the stories told by his step-dad (both him and Tav's mom are retired adventurers). Step dad was the one who told Tav about Darkmaw the Wicked *wink wink*.

At one point he got tired of the city life and decided he wanted to become a ranger. After successfully fulfilling some contracts he became so confident of his skills he tried to build a trap all by his own. The trap exploded right into his face (he himself has no idea how it didn't kill him or damaged his eyes). After that he was sulking in his hunting hut for a month. The experience humbled the boy. Most of his adventuring prior to the nautiloid could just be boiled down to hanging around one village and talking local boars out of destroying potato fields, and occasionally getting rid of poachers.

Before the abduction he was on his way to Baldur's Gate to see his family (which he hasn't seen in months).

Trivia (because it's easier to write stuff this way):

His hair started to go grey at the start of Act 3 from the weight of responsibility and stress.

In Act 1 he was corresponding with his family thanks to Faust. After entering The Underdark he stopped sending letters (In Underdark because it would be hard, in Act 2 because he didn't want the bird to be killed by Shadow Curse).

Despite being close to his family in Act 3, he didn't visit them or send any messages in fear that Gortash and/or Orin would hurt them.

He carries with him a razor and some fancy oils for his beard.

His brother wrote one ballad about him, soon after that Tav forbid him from writing more (it was very much not accurate).

His step-dad taught him how to fight with a sword, while his mom taught him archery and the art of stealth.

Tav's biological father died when he was very young so he has barely any memory of him.

Tav's a walking Merlin app, he can identify any bird by just listening to it.

He loves climbing trees. Either to rest on a branch or to scout the surroundings.

He loves picking up herbs and making potions.

Despite growing up in a tavern he's not much of a drinker.

He's very self-conscious about his height and chest-to-belly area. He tries his best not to show it.

At one point he was persona non grata at Sharess' Caress.

He enjoys fishing.

Sir Daisy Dewdrop Fluffington is a name of his childhood plush.

He knows how to play lanceboard (he often plays against Gale and tries to teach it to Wyll).

He draws in his journal. He drew all of his companions at least once.

He almost cried when Jaheira called him 'cub' and almost called her 'mom' in response.

He's scared of Lae'zel. But tries his best to understand and help her.

He had countless heart-to-hearts with Karlach.

In his journal he described Astarion as 'his equal on the battlefield'.

[braveclementine]

October 22- Mirror Sex (Legolas) 💙

Warnings: 18+ readers only, angst, mirror sex, prince kink, princess kink, oral sex 

Copyright: I do not own Legolas or any other LOTR characters. Annerose is a made up character, but she's barely mentioned and I don't own names either. I also do not condone any copying of this.

You gazed as the gorgeous man in front of you. Well, not so much of a man as he was an elf, one of the ancient race and you knew there was a difference- to them of course. Such a difference that the relationship between you and Legolas was kept a secret. It wasn't entirely forbidden, but Legolas was the son of an elf King. 

Your eyes trailed down his body. He had the perfect physique- as all of the elven men and women seemed to. Thin, but still fit and muscular. Long luscious blond hair and a pretty face, but still manly at the same time. 

You always felt rather. . . well ugly was a blunt word, but it still fit. Unflattering, perhaps. You knew among common mortals- as Legolas might put it- you were decently pretty, even in your own eyes, but amongst the elves. . .

Legolas was a man and beautiful. The women were something completely different. You still didn't know how Legolas could prefer you when he had so many female elves that would love to court with him. 

"You're staring." Legolas murmured softly, feeling your eyes burning into him. He opened them, his brown eyes meeting your E/C ones. Though you looked away, he could still read the emotions in them, sliding a hand across your hand. "Y/N, you are beautiful." 

You flushed, looking away completely. It was very easy for him to say it, of course. But it didn't mean anything. Not when you couldn't see it yourself. 

At that moment, there was a knock on the door. Always self-conscious of the maid that came in to serve the two of you, you quickly slumped back into the sheets, feigning sleep while Legolas chuckled softly. 

You knew which elf it was the minute he greeted her by name. The elf with the silvery blue hair and large purple eyes. She was so beautiful you couldn't even believe she was a maid and even more surprised that Legolas had not had any sort of relations with her before meeting you. It had been rumored that they had, after all. But Legolas always told you the truth about whatever you asked. If he said they hadn't, then they hadn't. 

"Good morning my Prince." Annerose murmured softly, the sounds of clinking dishes being set on a tray near the bed. 

"Good morning Annerose." Legolas murmured back quietly, his hand landing gently on your shoulder blades. 

 "Um, my Prince!" Annerose said quickly, as though wanting to speak before you woke up, "I. . . there have been. . . well pardon me if this sounds forward. But you are our future King and some of the other servants. . . we've been worried about you." 

"Oh?" Legolas questioned. You could heard the curiosity in his voice. "For what reason?" 

Annerose hesitated a long time before saying rather meekly. "I know this is rather forward of me, my Prince, and I'm sorry if this comes across as rude, but we have been worried if. . . if you are satisfied." 

Your cheeks burned and Legolas hand stopped rubbing circles on your back. You held back anything you wanted to say or do, keeping up the pretense of sleep. 

Legolas responded easily. "I can assure you that it is a needless worried. I am very satisfied, Annerose." 

"Ah." Annerose sounded unhappy with this, but of course would never say so. "I'm glad my Prince. Well, if there is ever anything else, you shall ring the bell." 

"Of course. Thank you." Legolas said, the edge of his tone clearly dismissive and then suddenly called out, "Annerose!" 

"Yes, my Prince?" Her tone had the slightest hint of hope in it. 

"Please, to clear all conscious and worries, let the others know that Y/N is to be my wife. They need not worry with my love, she is all I shall ever want." Legolas said. 

Annerose said nothing more, leaving the room, the door closing behind her quietly. 

Legolas said nothing, his hand leaving your back and you felt the bed dip as he got off of it, presumably to go and get the breakfast. You stayed laying where you were, hoping to fall back into an endless sleep and get away from the humiliation. 

The bed dipped again, long lithe arms pulling you back against his chest. A sob had gotten stuck in your throat and you didn't dare let it out, so you kept your lips shut firmly, trying to even out your breathing. 

"I know you're not asleep." Legolas murmured, stroking your hair back. "And I know her words hurt you. I'm sorry they were so thoughtless, my love." 

You swallowed the sob down and once the lump was gone, you murmured softly. "I'm alright. Just tired." 

"No you're not." Legolas saw right through you. "I know exactly what you need." 

He started to kiss down the back of your spine, his lips leaving a feather trail of burning spots. His hands caressed you and when you finally opened your eyes, he picked you up, swinging you over to sit you on the end of the bed. 

"Look." He murmured softly, looking straight at something, and then you realized that it was your reflection. The two of you were reflected in the tall, body-length mirror that sat in front of his bed. Gilded and wrought with silver and emeralds, your reflections were clear as day. 

You were painfully aware of how plain you looked next to him and averted your eyes down to the carpet in front of the bed, but Legolas wasn't having any of it. His fingers lifted your chin until you were looking directly at the two of you again. 

"What do you see?" Legolas asked softly, kissing the side of your neck, before meeting your eyes in the mirror. 

"I see myself. And I see you." You stated stubbornly. 

Legolas didn't back down. "How do you think of me?" 

"You're gloriously beautiful." You replied immediately. "You're so ageless and fair, there's a gay light in your eyes at all times. Your hair is so silky and smooth, it glows. But you're also as regal as your father." 

"And how do you think of yourself?" Legolas fingers were rubbing circles on the inside of your thigh now, slightly distracting you. 

"Well, I haven't prettied myself up, so I look rather plain." You admitted, figuring that this was the game you were playing and it was time to put everything out in the open. "But then again, next to you, I'm always plain. I don't have any of your light and I don't have any elvish beauty. I wish I did. Annerose is so beautiful Legolas, I don't know how you didn't fall for her instead." 

"Because she's not you." Legolas whispered, pulling the sheets away from your body so that you were exposed- the two of you having fallen asleep naked last night. You flushed a little as he ran his fingers through your H/C mons, before sliding two fingers into your cunt. 

Legolas got off the bed, sliding to the floor in front of you. "Y/N, you're going to look into the mirror the entire time. You will not look away, you will not close your eyes, you will only look at yourself and focus on my words. You don't have to ask for permission or say anything at all. Your safe word is still in use, understand?" 

"Yes." You murmured, letting your eyes stray down for a second, looking at the glorious Prince on his knees before you, before letting your eyes move back up to your own face. 

Legolas licked a stripe through your folds, your legs shaking a little, threatening to close around his head. 

"You know what I see?" Legolas asked, before diving back in for his feast. Though you knew that you didn't have to answer, you couldn't help the slightly snarky retort that rolled off your tongue. 

"A human?" 

Legolas lightly pinched the inside of your thigh, but otherwise didn't comment. He pulled away, replacing his tongue with his fingers and answered instead, "I see a beautiful young woman. Your hair shines in the sun, and when you have it down, it curls around your face, framing it, so that it softens your features." 

You wanted to look down at him, but kept your eyes focused on the mirror, looking at yourself. It was the one thing Legolas had commanded from you, so you wanted to make sure you followed through. 

"You have a different beauty." Legolas continued, placing light kisses on the inside of your thighs. "Something no elf has, even me. Mortal beauty Y/N. You are beautiful as a human and you don't even realize it." 

'Well of course not.' You thought inside your head, staring into your own eyes, which reflected a bitter sadness back at you. 'Have you seen yourself?' 

Legolas seemed to feel your emotions because he kissed the inside of your thigh and said, "Look. Look at yourself Princess." 

Your heart fluttered with the nickname and you watched your cheeks redden just a tad. A new light was in your eyes as pleasure started to coil in your abdomen. One of your small hands came into view as you placed it lightly on Legolas' fair hair. You watched your slender fingers slide into his locks as he latched back onto your cunt. 

You watched your own eyes widen, glistening lips parting a little as you let out a moan. 

"Look how beautiful you are." Legolas mumbled, muffled slightly as he didn't let up eating you out. You let out another moan, his words causing vibrations against your lower lips. Your legs shook and you could see your cheeks turning pinker. 

"My Prince. . ." You moaned, voice quavering as you started to read the apex of your orgasm. Legolas looked beautiful between your legs, your hand tightening in his hair, the golden-white locks bunching up. He looked almost disheveled now, if that was possible. . . and it was because of you. 

Your eyes were even brighter now, almost glazed as you reached your pleasure, which felt like fire across your veins. Your body shook and you watched yourself in the mirror once more, before collapsing against the bed so that you could relax. 

You stared up at Legolas as he knelt next to you, smiling a little like you were the most adorable thing he'd seen on Middle Earth. His hand stroked your cheek until you finally smiled back at him. 

"Did you see your beauty?" Legolas asked softly. 

You knew what he meant and you could see it. He was right, it was a different sort of beauty than perhaps he was thinking about, but it was beauty. 

"Yes." You whispered. 

"Do you know why you're mine?" Legolas whispered. 

You blushed at that. "You love me." 

"Exactly." Legolas said, picking you up into his arms now, cradling you as he brought you over to sit with the food so the two of you could eat. "I love you." 

You burrowed into his side, glancing up and seeing the two of you in the mirror again. You smiled at your reflection and then said to Legolas, "I love you too." 

[littlejuicebox]

Puppy love.

Idk how this has become an almost nightly update, but I swear I have so many ideas for this little family, it's ridiculous.

Sorry for all the Dadstarion spam to the peeps that aren't into it. I promise I'm going to pivot now. I have to edit MWC and I'm aiming to get it up this weekend or early next week.

Tags/Warnings: all fluff, Dadstarion, parenting, babies, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of animal death, idk what else but comment if you see anything

Summary: Three year old Gale finds a dog in the orchard, but there’s something curious about this interaction. Astarion is struggling with parenthood in the face of his child’s growing understanding of the world.

Word count: 1800

*

Astarion had, against his own wishes, been required to participate much more in this year’s orchard harvest than in years previous. Your swollen stomach certainly got in the way of performing too much manual labor and you’d enlisted your husband’s help for the more difficult parts. 

“Darling, this is really more your thing.” Astarion sighs, crossing his arms as he assesses your pout. You’d just asked him to climb the ladder and pick apples from the taller parts of the trees.

“My love, I know you are such a wonderful father and husband that you wouldn’t dare say no to the mother of your children when she asks for help while she is currently incubating two of your precious offspring.” You respond sweetly, batting your eyelashes at your husband, “Unless you’re suggesting I should climb onto the ladder in my heavily encumbered state, dear?” 

“I hate you.” He responds with a huff and a quick roll of his eyes while trudging toward the ladder.

“No, you don’t.” You call after him before nestling yourself into the picnic blanket with Gale. The silver-haired boy was playing with a set of wooden ducks that had been whittled for him by Halsin, simply ‘quack quack quacking’ as he took a break from his part of the harvest. His little fingers were stained red by the cranberries he’d helped you pick.

Astarion reluctantly picked apples from a handful of trees before he gave up and settled down beside the two of you, insisting he would simply hire people to complete the rest of the harvest.

“I’m far too hungry to continue, love,” He complained before delving into the picnic basket and pulling out lunch.

Your stomach growls in response to the smell of food carrying in the autumn breeze. Fine, he was right, it was far too much work for two adults and a three year old.

As you eat, you watch Gale attempt more than once to bite into an oversized apple his father had picked from the orchard. The child had the item cupped in both his hands, and he kept opening his mouth far too wide, sinking only his incisors into the fruit’s thin flesh.

You stifle a giggle as he bites down and sends the McIntosh flying from his tiny fingers onto the checkered picnic blanket.

“Gale, darling, perhaps you should ask daddy to cut that,” You suggest as you finish the last few bites of Astarion’s sandwich. You’d instantly devoured your meal; the twins kept you ravenous. Your husband offered half of his own to you with a peck to your temple and gentle brush of his fingers along your rapidly growing stomach.

The elf might be exceptionally self-serving when it came to his interactions with the rest of the world, but he’d always been particularly self-sacrificing for his little love.

Gale grunts dramatically as he bends to retrieve his food and then turns to look at his father. Astarion lifts his eyes from his book to acknowledge the boy with a quirked eyebrow.

“Daddy, I want the knife for I can cut this,” he says, eagerly holding out one of his hands, hoping his father will let him use the dagger.

“I think we have a few more years before you’re using blades, little prince,” Astarion responds while snapping his book shut. Then he reaches into the picnic basket to retrieve your old sussur dagger before wiggling his fingers, beckoning for the apple.

Gale groans, disappointed that he can’t hold the knife, but obliges and hands the McIntosh to his father. A few quick cuts later and Astarion is placing the sliced wedges of fruit down in front of the silver-haired boy.

“What do you say, Gale?” You prompt as the child begins eating the fruit.

“Thank you, daddy!” The three year old responds through a mouthful of apple.

Astarion ruffles the little boy’s curls, “You’re welcome, little prince.” 

A soft whine comes from a few trees away, and Gale’s head lifts from his lunch to search for the source of the sound. His curious green eyes scan the orchard.

“A doggy!” He exclaims, immediately dropping his apple slice and moving to run toward the floppy eared mutt.

But Astarion snatches his son’s hand, halting him, “Gale, you can’t just go running after—“

“Come here, puppy!” Gale calls, ignoring his father. The dog immediately obeys, running toward the child with a wagging tail and lolling tongue.

You chuckle as Astarion wrinkles his nose in displeasure, protectively pulling his son back onto the picnic blanket and eyeing the animal suspiciously. 

“It’s just a lost puppy, Astarion.” You murmur, watching the mutt closely as it slows its approach, cocking its head slightly in curiosity. It doesn’t appear to be past adolescence.

The dog whines again, its brown eyes focused on the little boy. 

“She say she is hungry!” Gale exclaims before he crouches down to grab an apple slice, “Here, puppy!”

He attempts to toss the fruit to the dog, but doesn’t manage to get it quite far enough. The floppy eared creature slowly steps forward and takes the offering, watching your family cautiously.

Another whine comes from the puppy after it finishes the apple slice, and Gale crinkles his white eyebrows while turning to look at his father. 

“Papa, she say her mommy is hurt!” He explains, lifting a small finger to point to the back of the orchard, “Over there!”

You and Astarion exchange shocked glances. A silent conversation ensues between two pairs of eyes that know one another better than anyone else. Is the little boy actually communicating with the dog?

Astarion stands, his eyebrows furrowed, intent on confirming your suspicions. He heads in the direction your child pointed, toward the edge of your property located just more than fifty paces away.

Without his father holding him back, Gale runs to the mutt and begins to chatter excitedly, cooing praises of adoration as he pets the creature. You watch your son curiously as the animal licks the remnants of Gale’s lunch off his hands, her tail wagging happily.

When your husband returns, he’s got that same furrowed brow. Gale is distracted by the dog as Astarion calls to you, “Gwann.”

Dead.

You crinkle your eyebrows, mirroring Astarion’s puzzled expression, and then turn your focus back to your son. He must be able to communicate with the dog, there’s no other explanation.

“It looks like coyotes must have gotten to her,” Astarion explains, his voice low as he also assesses his son,  “And before you even suggest anything, no, Tav. Absolutely not. The twins are almost here, we won’t have time to—“

“Daddy!” Gale calls, running back towards his father, his new dog friend in tow, “Where her mommy go? We can help!”

Shit.

Astarion brings his fingers to anxiously pull at his own ear. 

Nine hells.

They’re adopting the damn dog, aren’t they? 

“Well, Gale…” Astarion starts, and he flicks his eyes to you, flailing his hand open in an exasperated gesture as he struggles to come up with an explanation, “Her mommy is sick and had to go to the… animal doctor. So… I told her mommy we would watch her until she got better.” 

A lie, yes. And not a particularly good one. But Astarion isn’t about to explain death to his three-year-old.

The little boy’s eyes widen in excitement as a grin spreads across his face. He turns to look at the puppy, and somehow he’s able to figure out the dog has no idea what his father said, so he repeats the gist of it to the floppy eared mutt. The dog listens and cocks its head curiously, but then seems to give some indication of agreement.

Poor little thing.

The two of you exchange glances again. You’re going to have to discuss this once Gale goes to bed.

“Come on, darling, get your toys and let’s head back inside,” You tell the little boy, “I’m sure your new friend is very hungry; we can find something for her there. Daddy is going to pick a few more apples and then join us.” 

As the three year old is grabbing his toys, you exchange another pointed glance with your husband before thrusting your chin in the direction of the dead dog. 

“Haudh,” You murmur. Grave. You want Astarion to bury the animal before the puppy winds up finding her dead mother and tells Gale. He nods his understanding and bids the two of you goodbye, waiting until you are out of sight before heading toward the back of the orchard. 

And here he thought he was done burying corpses.

*

Later that night, you and your husband are in bed after just putting your son and his new companion, Apple, to sleep. Gale had chosen the name while he helped you bathe the puppy. 

Astarion had rolled his eyes and whispered to you, “I don’t know which is worse, Scratch or Apple.”

But he’d started referring to the dog by that name, regardless. 

The elf closes his eyes and presses his fingers into the sockets with a soft groan, “I didn’t know what else to say, Tav. We couldn’t very well tell our extremely sensitive son that the pup’s mother died. You know how he would’ve responded. All the saplings in the orchard would’ve been knocked down.” 

You can’t help but laugh at your husband as he works through the events of today.

He snaps his eyes open and glares at you, raking his hands through his curls and completely ruining them in the process, “It’s not funny, dear.” 

“It kind of is, my Star,” You shrug, moving forward to press a gentle, comforting kiss to your husband’s lips, “But I love watching you try and protect Gale’s soft heart.” 

Astarion shakes his head at you with a belabored sigh, “Parenting is impossible.” 

“Perhaps… but we’ve done other impossible things, haven’t we, my love?” You whisper, and the twins roll in your stomach, signaling their assent.

Astarion sighs again and nods, bringing his hand to rest upon the swell of your abdomen. He smiles as he feels the movement of the two little ones within. 

“Sometimes I think you just manage to convince me anything is possible, little love. And I’m so foolishly enamored with you that I’ll believe anything you say.” The elf says through a lopsided, exhausted grin.  

“And apparently I’ll do anything you say, like moonlighting as a farmer and digging a damn grave for a dog,” He continues, his nose wrinkling in displeasure, “You’re lucky you’re cute, darling.” 

You chuckle; the phrase reminds you of the times before Astarion so willingly told you he loved you, back when the two of you had no idea what you were doing.

In many ways, the two of you still don’t have a clue.

But you have each other. And just like every time before, you would figure it out. Together.

[eirual-32]

Before the Birds Sang - Legolas x Reader

A.N.: As of now, it is a one shot imagine, but it could turn into a short series if you desire. Also, there might be some mistakes and I’m sorry for that but English isn’t my first language. Hope you enjoy! I really like this one :)

Legolas x Human Reader

Summary: On a certain evening when loneliness creeps in, Legolas is there to silently comfort you. Between the two of you, so many feelings are uncovered but also left unsaid.  

fluff, slight angst, hair braiding, hidden feelings

Reader isn’t aware of the meaning behind hair braiding for elves (love, courting…)

Warnings: none

Words: 1,8k

So much time had already passed since you had left your dear home. Of course, you did miss it. In your dreams, you were reminded of what made it your own: the modest but charming garden your mother was constantly occupied embellishing, the cherry blossom trees you could observe from your room’s window gently swaying with the wind flying over the valley, the numerous birds that would wake you from a peaceful sleep when you had left your shutters open for the night…

These souvenirs, the little pieces of home still residing in your mind, brought you comfort and hope that, somehow, you would come back alive to your mother. It was a dangerous adventure and death was constantly near, but you had no regrets. Indeed, the quest you had embarked on served a crucial purpose in which the faith of Middle-earth was at stake. Consequently, being a part of the Fellowship was an honor and you had come to appreciate each one of the members accompanying you. They all were great company and having them by your side eased your growing homesickness. However, late at night, when the time had come to slip into slumber, the loneliness crawled back in with an enhanced heaviness.

This is the state you now found yourself in, lying on your back on a thin layer of ferns while staring at the stars as if they would help you find the rest your body so desperately craved, but couldn’t give in to. You clung onto the thin blanket barely protecting you from the coldness of the night as you once more forcefully shut your eyes, sighing in desperation.

Your sigh must have been louder than you had wished since a worried voice quickly followed, “Are you not able to sleep Y/N?” You swiftly turned your head to the side to find Legolas, the elf on the Fellowship who had quickly creeped its way into your heart, sitting a few feet away against a log surrounding the campfire that had been put out before nightfall. As always, he was up late, not needing to sleep much.

You were unsure whether it was merely your human nature’s reaction to the refined beauty of elves, but Legolas had fascinated you from the moment your eyes had met his gentle ones all these months ago. Since then, you had been able to slightly put aside the odd feelings that had invaded your being the first time you encountered him and a lovely friendship blossomed between the two of you. Legolas was never one to judge you and you truly felt like you could be your true self around him. He was an ellon of a few words, but an attentive listener. Therefore, you were allowed to share and relieve yourself of the fears you had regarding this journey thanks to him. Secretly, he held an extra special place in your heart.

It is the reason why, as he now searched your eyes questioning what was bothering you, you felt your chest flutter and you averted your gaze to instead look back at the dark sky saying, “It is nothing new Legolas. I merely am frightened of what’s to come. You know how much I worry I will never come home to my mother.” You paused as you fought back the tears lingering in your eyes.

You heard Legolas shuffle closer and sit close to your head still resting on the ground. His comforting presence calmed you and you continued, “I am all she has left. I can’t help feeling guilty to have left her.” You sniffed slightly and closed your eyes.

For a few minutes, you both fell in a comfortable silence during which all that could be heard was the slow breaths you both let out, the faint snores of your companions sleeping nearby and the wind whistling through the countless trees surrounding you.

Your shut eyes softly opened back when a delicate hand cautiously caressed your long hair dispersed around your head. His gentle motions started at the top of your head and ended where your neck began, just behind your right ear. His touch was so light you could have believed the breeze was the one stroking your skin and strands of your hair.

As you relished in the feeling of his rare touch on you, you tempted a look at Legolas. Still sitting, his eyes were now fixed right in front of him, mindlessly surveying the woods. From this angle, observing him from below, you could see how the moon reflected on the smooth skin covering his face making it glitter subtly. As usual, strands of his snow-colored hair were neatly braided back revealing his beautifully shaped ears and his perfectly sculpted jawline. While your eyes continued to trail over his face, you couldn’t help feeling as if you were staring at an otherworldly being which technically, he was. His mere existence felt magical. Indeed, Legolas was an elf, but deep down, you knew he felt like more than that to you.

Legolas must have sensed your gaze on him because, in their inspection, your eyes finally reached his again but now, they weren’t fixed on the trees before him anymore. You were now staring directly in his soft eyes looking down at you as they seemed to silently try to read you. Slowly, a kind smile illuminated his face. Color stained your cheeks as you detected a hint of mischievousness in his expression at having caught you admiring him.

His voice was then heard again, “I thought I was helping you falling asleep. Alas, I appear to rather be a distraction to you,” he stated as his playful smirk grew even more. You lowered your eyes briefly, embarrassment creeping in, but quickly lifted them again as you heard him giggle softly.

A newfound fondness towards him filled your body at the sound of his laugh and at the realization of the subtle closeness of the moment. This time, you maintained his gaze until your eyes fluttered close when his hand that had stilled itself on your temple began stroking your hair smoothly once more.

“You like it?” he nearly whispered. You smiled softly and nodded. You opened your eyes again to find Legolas gently reciprocating your grin.

“You haven’t slept much lately Y/N. You need to rest, mellon nin. A long journey still lies ahead of us,” he said. You hummed in response as an idea crossed your mind.

Without overanalyzing it, you asked, “Would you braid my hair like elves do?” Legolas’ hand halted in its movements and if you hadn’t been gazing intensely in his eyes, you would have missed an unknown expression that subtly flashed in them. However, he quickly regained his composure as his hand resumed its path in your hair.

Since he wasn’t responding, you grew unsure of your request. Thankfully, he relieved you of your uncertainty by muttering, “Would it help you fall asleep afterwards?”

“Yes, it would. Your touch is so soothing. It has already helped put to rest all that was haunting me earlier,” you replied quietly, a grateful glint in your eyes.

Legolas scanned your features as if hesitating, but then requested for you to sit up. He delicately covered your shoulders with your blanket and tugged your forearm lightly to guide you further back in front of his crossed legs. He began by brushing his elegant fingers through your hair, untangling the knots that had formed during the day. You closed your eyes once again enjoying how his gentle touch made you feel. Afterwards, he parted your hair and took two strands he pulled together and skillfully braided into a single braid in the back. Your closed eyelids became heavier at each second that passed.  

Then, he leaned a bit closer to be able to braid the hair right above your ears, starting on your right side. A shiver ran through your body as you sensed his warm exhale on your ear and neck. Shortly after, your heart rate accelerated when you felt a tremble in his breath as if he was nervous. That is when you discerned the intimacy of the moment you were sharing. You could not recall having shared such a tender act with anyone other than your mother and the idea of you making the ellon behind you anxious filled you with feelings you were not familiar with.  

Unexpectedly, now working on the last braid, near your left hear, Legolas softly said, “Regarding what you said to me earlier about your mother and you fearing to never come back to her, I of course can’t assure you that nothing will happen to you since the dangers ahead are unknown, but…” He paused completing your hairstyle and delicately turning you around so you could sit while facing him. For a few seconds, his gaze lovingly swept over your hair and your face halting at your eyes. Finally, he finished his sentence, intently diving his gaze into yours, “I promise that I will look after you and do everything in my power for you to return home unarmed.”

At his words, you felt a soothing warmth invading your stomach and you smiled at him, again admiring his majestic beauty. His right hand still resting on your shoulder now raised itself to lightly take a hold of your cheek. His index brushed your skin tenderly and you leaned into his hand as you grasped his wrist gently. As you stared at one another, a certain tension weighed on the both of you in which so much was left unsaid. Your breaths fanning on the other’s face, a sense of surprise seized you when you became aware of your proximity as you knew Legolas was never one for physical touch, but here you were.

“Bain,” he whispered. “You look beautiful,” he completed while releasing a breath. You stared startled, heart beating furiously. What shocked you even more is when Legolas leaned in to lay his lips on your cheek in a soft kiss and then did the same on your forehead. The skin his mouth had touched was tingling and your body craved for him to lean in again. However, you stayed put, even as the ellon’s eyes briefly drifted to your lips before looking back into yours, pink now tinting his cheeks.

That’s when he put his hands on both your shoulders and leaned back,“It is time for you to rest now, ok?” he said in a low voice which broke the spell you had both fell in while you shyly had explored the other with your sight and touch.

“Yes.” You nodded. “Thank you again Legolas. For everything.” You smiled and he lightly bowed his head, his gentle eyes never leaving yours.

He stood up, leaving you yearning for his touch again as the emplacements on your skin he had been in contact with grew cold. Nevertheless, your insides were burning as you stared at the elf regaining his earlier spot near the campfire. You lay back down on the ground, glancing once more at Legolas who was now observing you from afar, a sparkle in his eyes, before your eyelids who had grown heavy shut one final time and you were transported back home, in dreams, to the birds singing melodically outside your window.

A.N.: If you desire a second part, I will write one :).

[raayllum]

So following writing this short meta about Rayla and Callum's differing responses to their hostage exchanges (in 4x09 and here above in 5x08 respectively), I was also thinking about this scene with Viren because it shows, perhaps, the biggest difference I've always seen between Callum and Viren, even back in S1/S2.

I've talked about it before, but it always bears repeating: throughout the first three episodes of S1, we see Viren try everything he can to save Harrow's life, including offering up others' and his own through the soulfang spell... but giving up the egg never occurs to him as an option. The fact that we know it wouldn't have necessarily worked (hi Runaan's stubborn refusal) is a moot point; relinquishing a 'weapon' and letting it fall back into Xadia's hands is not something, point blank, that Viren is willing to do, even to save the life of someone he loves and is willing to die for.

And although the contexts are different - it seems Viren knew saving Soren might sour his relationship with Lissa (and led to him coining Kpp'Ar) but there were no global stakes attached to it as far as he knew or could conceptualize. However, it does show the way he's fallen, particularly with S5 in mind (as in the dream 'flashbacks' he tells Soren what Claudia did in 2x09: "You're okay now. That's all that matters"). But here, it doesn't Matter at all.

Arc 1 Viren is a villain and an antagonist precisely because of three things.

He's willing to sacrifice other people, even people who trusted and followed him (his best friend's children, the human armies)

He's willing to sacrifice, manipulate, and selectively choose amongst his children (Soren and Claudia)

He cares too much about what he considers to be the Greater Good ("a bright future for humanity" / "his destiny will be the destruction of all of humanity") that he loses sight of who he wants it for (his children: "I would've asked you to choose the egg over my own life, if it came to it")

While Viren says much of this is for the greater good, it's also very clearly self-serving in his own quest for power ("You made the same choice you've always made: the one that gives you power"). And while Callum has pride, he does not have ego.

Because you have Callum. The revenge spell creates a dangerous weapon. He knows this, and has seen and fought against the harm it caused first hand. Claudia was faced with a similar choice in 2x07 ("If you must choose between Soren and egg, pick the egg") and even she hesitated. But Callum doesn't. He doesn't hesitate for a second to give Finnegrin what he wouldn't under torture and under principle, because "the second you see that elf girl in pain" ("the second it looks like you're in danger, I'm jumping in after you"), he loses himself.

Because Viren says, "I would do anything for you," and doesn't mean it, but Callum says, "I would do anything for you," and means it in its entirety.

While Callum and Viren have a lot of similarities, they will never be truly like each other because Callum will never be willing to sacrifice his loved ones in the same way. That is their core and most crucial difference.

However, that doesn't mean that - like Viren - Callum's core and choices cannot be exploited, and that the ones he makes will always work out for him, going into S6 in particular.

Because he loves his family. And that's it - and that's everything.

[blackblooms]

Irredeamable developpement retrospective Part 3: The fountain So just as presented in the last part, this was my attempt at creating a single complex and interconnected setting for all of my games. I even had a bunch of games planned for this, including one some of you may have seen before.

This game was made on a whole other engine, so i won`t linger too much on it, but the planned story was about a small elf huntress, ascending the great titan (giant tree) to find increasingly imposing preys to hunt, such as troglodytes (giant frog people), drakes, wyrms, other sentient bugs and concluding on a battle with the nevermore, a black crow/dragon that served as the god of the tree.

Anyway, back to our actual game. The fountain took place in a nexus between several worlds, where several species from all over the multiverse lived, including humans, lizardfolk, goblins, elves, trolls, and several races of fae. At the heart of this world, was the coveted fountain, a well of pure magic that was the source of all reality and could remake it to the whims of any who were bold enough to find and use it.

From this premise, a main game was planned, an epic journey through the crossroads of lands, where a group from different races would meet and unite in their common quest to find the fountain and achieve their deepest wishes.

So the journey starts on human lands, a continent consisting of mostly deserts. The fountain is where i finally settled on an aesthetic for humans, making them mechanical, and fire-themed. They usually wield guns and use the metal, oil, and coal of their land to build fiery machines and factories. Other stories also give them the ability to nearly fully mechanize their bodies, turning themselves into metal demons. the second area would have been the lizardfolks/mermaid archipelago (don't ask why they are the second to last area in the plans, i dont know either) These would be themed around water and serve as an artificial/life amphibious force, working under the centaurians from the last few settings. The mermaids specifically were centaurians-humans hybrid, hence why they have features of both. Then the group arrives upon the mainland, where they are met with an overgrown swamp, infested with demi-fae, a group of several races mixed with fae blood, giving them the ability to use magic. This is followed by a series of urbanized forests controlled by the tiny, but industrious elves who are able to build dozens of man-sized war machines. The last obstacle on the journey is the shadowlands, a dark, cold, and desolated region, guarded by a race of ancient stone creatures. These old traditionalists and users of mystical shadow arts despise change and will do anything to prevent the fountain from being tampered with. ( i remember hearing the line "dwarves are incorruptible as stone" in shadow of mordor and it stuck in my head ever since, becoming a defining aspect of the trolls in my own stories.") And finally, the fountain, a place of infinite potential and home of the Fae, creatures that have been encountered during the whole journey, avatars of magic, nature and change. The fountain is a fantastical realm, a city of candy, floating over an ever-flowing lake of golden honey. The purest of faes reside in this realm, but they are far from the nature-loving beings met in the outside world. These Faes are cruel and ravenous, eager to consume the world and make a new one that will one day also be ruthlessly consumed.

Anyway, as you can tell from all the lore, i ended up putting a whole lot of effort into that setting. There was even supposed to be a whole second half of the game where the characters made their wish and the world would be twisted by the Fae magic into nightmares that would have to be fought and repelled before they replaced the region. We are slowly, but surely getting close to the end of this retrospective. Next we will go into the game that ended up giving irredeamable much of its mechanics. A small, self-contained story that ended up bridging the gap between the fountain and the current setting i have been building. See you in part 4: The city of dolls.

[kurizeria]

I love Ateris!! His design is so cool, maybe you can share with us some headcanon you have about him and queen feraada?? 🥰🥰

Thank you so much aaa <33 I do have plenty of those! I realize I actually don't talk about the details much despite the story being completely fleshed out, I just post art of them sometimes jfkldgj. To make up for it, I wrote down quite a few!! :D

Faris headcanons hooray!!

When they first met, Ateris absolutely STANK omg... like wandering around in Evenere did not do him any favours and his clothes were already old and tattered and who knows when bro had bathed last. He was just kind of vibing. One of the first things she did when she took him back was get him a bath and change of clothes LMAO. Once they were friends, she later ends up commissioning someone to tailor him a new set of clothing, which is his main outfit in his redesign! Besides decorating him with obvious Evenerean fabrics, she intentionally had the hair accessory referenced off of her own crown as an extension of her authority (essentially telling her militia to back off / he is not a threat).

Early on in their friendship, Ateris protected her from an assassination attempt since he happened to be with her at the time and their friendship was a secret among a select few, so the assassin never had intel for such an anomaly. He realizes that he actually would prefer that this human does not die, so he swore he'd accompany her for her lifetime (not a big deal for him, since he's essentially immortal, but in hindsight she found it quite romantic LOL). Fareeda is a beloved and kind queen, so who would do such a thing? This is an overarching plot in their relationship as they try to uncover the would-be usurper and discover the moles among her queensguard, and it gets covered a little bit in my OCs main story (so it will be included in my upcoming webcomic). She does end up getting tutored by someone else in improving her self-defense (personally I headcanon that she was at least somewhat trained with weapons already simply due to Evenere's environment seemingly almost requiring self-defense, but she wouldn't be as familiar with assassin's dirty tricks). At times Ateris would help by acting as a would-be assassin since he's skilled with blades, though he never uses his magic against her. Obviously that training was not in preparation for an unrelated smoky assassin though oops

She introduced him to a lot of Evenere's culture, from their foods to the arts and their way of life in their isolated kingdom. He especially liked the food part! There's a little twinkle in his eye anytime a meal is served.

Because of the above though, he ended up learning to enjoy the downtime of reading with a snack. He still finds some of the fiction novels strange though. Fareeda loaned him her favourite book to read while he was overseas in Xadia (after her death, he could never bring himself to read the final chapter).

Besides some of Fareeda's closest queensguard learning of him after the earlier assassination attempt, Ateris' existence is largely unknown in Evenere and he keeps to himself. There were rumours that Fareeda had a possibly elven friend, but most assume it's unfounded (I headcanon that Evenere is more lax with elves due to their isolation (low influence from other kingdoms), so they typically don't actually care beyond curiosity. Though it being a Startouch elf is a well-kept secret).

She fell first, he fell harder. They have a bit of a will they, won't they relationship that ends up being unfulfilled due to events in canon, but his time with her still influences him greatly once they're apart.

While she just came to love him over time, there is actually a specific moment that Fareeda realized that she had fallen in love with him, which I will eventually illustrate <3

Ateris is always very gentle with her and gives affectionate gestures, but he doesn't really understand that he does these because he has romantic interest in her, since he's never fallen in love before (and for reasons in the past, it used to be impossible for him). Much like Fareeda having a moment where she knew she really loved him, there is a moment Ateris realizes what his feelings for her were as well, though it was far too late.

Fareeda knows most of Ateris' personal backstory, even if she doesn't quite understand all of it, especially about his "former self".

Over a couple centuries, Ateris amassed quite a few antiques. Fareeda just so happens to love trinkets and baubles, so many of them finally found a home with her. Notably Mira's amulet was given to her, though whether or not it helped her the way it did in the animatic depends on the timeline (though personally if they never do anything in canon that makes the animatic's story impossible, I might make the animatic's story part of my canon timeline).

Fareeda loves the Evenerean wildlife in all its terrors and wonders, even if some are very unapproachable in which she will appreciate them from a respectable distance. Ateris happens to be able to connect with quite a few of them (especially if they are connected to the Earth arcanum). This is great for Fareeda because he soothes critters and she gets to hang out with them win/win

When Ateris had to leave her side to go to Xadia for unfinished business, she gives him an heirloom of hers, a dragonfly necklace that he may return to her once his journey ends. It ends up being his most treasured belonging.

Since I don't know how long Fareeda has been queen or her exact age, I keep the exact year they met a bit vague (I like to think they would've met in her earlier years as queen, but if she became queen as a child then uhhhh no LMAO). However, they've spent a long time together. Unfortunately, though they were close to finally saying "I love you", their time was ultimately cut short.

[spiral-man]

My self indulgent list of Entities and what I think my connection to them would be, let’s go:

The Eye-I believe I could be a good avatar of the Eye because I’m super nosy, and have always been told I ask to many questions and am to curious and also I’m a pretty open book myself.

The Spiral-If I had to Pick an Entity I think I’d be most likely to serve it would be the Spiral. I have a lot of mental health issues and I have a hard time figuring out what’s real and what’s fake within my perception, Also I’m Pansexual and Pangender and I have ADHD so….

The Flesh-Think I could definitely be at least marked by The Flesh due to a history of $elf Harm (getting better!) and my fondness for NBC Hannibal.

The Lonely-Depression and Anxiety make me prime real-estate for the lonely and I have a bad tendency of dwelling in my own misery at times and finding comfort in that which is what this entity feeds on.

The Slaughter-I’ve got some anger issues and have a bit of a violent tendency at times (working on it).

The Hunt-Used to (still do) love games like tag and hide and seek, I really loved the adrenaline rush those games give you, especially in the woods or something.

The Stranger-I have a bit of a hard time feeling human, I feel like I’m doing it wrong most of the time, like I’m just ever so slightly off compared to everyone else, like I’m just pretending.

The Web-Manipulative parents need I say more.

The Dark-Always loved the dark, find it very comforting.

The End-I’ve never been scared of death, I’ve had some past suicidal issues and now I’m currently studying to be a funeral director/embalmer.

The Desolation-My family has a history of Arson in the sense that one of my grandmas siblings almost burnt their house down because they liked to play with matches, my grandmas son did burn a playground down because he liked to play with matches and my grandmas granddaughter (me, hi) also has almost burnt her house down (multiple times) due to enjoying playing with matches.

The Corruption-Probably my worst fear, when I was younger I loved bugs but these day they make me so uncomfortable, thinking about them makes me itch, and similar idea with rot in general I just hate it, this fear would have a easy time feeding on me.

The Buried-Similar to the dark, I actually do not mind super confined spaces and in fact find them sort of comforting at times.

The Vast-I used to really love to climb trees but I could never get to high up because I was scared of how unsteady it felt, in general I like climbing shit to be up high but if it feels unstable I feel like I’m about to pass out.

the Exctinction-Lived through a pandemic and constantly being informed about different new events that could end the world.

If you read all this, hot damn I love you wow thank you so much haha, this was purely self indulgent as ive seen other people do it and I find the fears so interesting.

[eri-pl]

Silm reread 14: Men! (again)

Finrod goes hunting with M&M (C3 and AA are apparently too nasty for him to hang out?), gets bored (Finrod doesn't seem to have a great attantions span), travels far because why not, he likes new places, discovers Men.

The Men are like: Yay, we found the place we've been looking for, it's perfect, all our problems are over! Finrod decides that Men are his new hyperfixation lovely. He isn't the first Elf to meet them, they'd met the Avari and learned from them already!

Osanwe and stuff.

Finrod gets named Nóm, which totally isn't "gnome but make it nonless obvious". Finrod the gnome. I love him. And making fun of him [affectionate].

Also, the Men (Beorians) are totally fanboying over Finrod too, they claim him as their ruler and swear fealty to the Arafinweans. It seems like it is spontaneous, he doesn't ask for it or anything. No colonizer vibes. They just love each other a lot. It's all very cool and kind.

A canon cnfirmation that the Eldar (so: not Sindar) are the best at learning languages of all the peoples.

Of course, Finrod asks questions. Where do Men come from? They don't want to talk about it. Finrod will keep poking, of course. Very relateable.

Here we get the thing I already posted about: Morgoth also hyperfixated on Men, so he went to corrupt them and left Sauron as the manager. And Sauron immediately lost Maedhros, and didn't even know how. :D (It's not canon, it's my interpretation of the timeline).

Anyway, Morgoth returns and leaves "only a few of his servants and not very powerful or skilled ones" among Men. So no, tha guy we'll later see impersonating one of the Mannish chieftains very likely isn't Sauron, just some less savvy shapeshifter guy. Which shows that there are more uMaiar whose MO is shapeshifting+spreading lies. which, I think, is even mentioned somewhere.

The Green Elves of Ossiriand seem to be hardcore vegans: they can't be friends with Men, because the Men cut trees and hunt animals.

The Men relocate to A&A's lands and Beor asks Finrod to take him to Nargothrond. And here he gets the name Bëor, which means a vassal… yes, it sounds not great, but based on the vibe I would assume he was the one to pick the name and Finrod reluctantly agreed.

Other Men settle at Caranthir's land and are ignored. Finrod generally visits Men often, and many Elves of both tribes come to see them too, because Men are a cool novelty. Generally, cultural exchange.

"It is said that" (Pengolodh, you gossip!) only Finrod consulted the "giving lands to Men" thing with Thingol. (TBH, Thingol banned pretty much every other Noldo from Doriath so… well ok, they could have sent letters I guess.)

Also, Thingol does have mysterious nightmares about Men!!! Self-fulfilling prophecies ftw. Ha had those even before Men were a thing. So, this is important.

Some Men fear Eldar and the light in their eyes. Huh. Yea, they're sus and Morgoth-infused I suppose. And we have the "not Sauron because he would be more competent" shapeshifter scene.

Sidenote: It would make a good comedy fic (either a very dark comedy or not very canon but anyway): this guy returns to Sauron, tells him the [lack of] results, and Sauron (still upset after losing Mae) berates him and lectures him on how to do it properly. (If less comedic, probably some quotes or at least close paraphrases from a CSL's book I have not read would fit well in here). Hmm. It could even work without comedy.

Haleth, siege, all that stuff, Caranthir learns to respect Men, and Haleth doesn't want to be his subordinate anyway. Also, she's so brave (and/or insane) that she leads her people through the Spider-land. Also, she disses Thingol a bit (he deserved that one).

Men learn sindarin en masse. Also, many young guys serve in Elven army. Cultural exchange again.

Oh, Boromir is a FA name too! XD I forgot that. Plus a lot of other people having weird names plus we get the genealogies for Turin, Tuor and Beren. Men are cool and awesome and stuff + at the end of this chapter the three Edain tribes are described. TBH I see a pretty clear analogy of:

Hadorians - Vanyar (blond, blue-eyed, tall, author's fav), but the Men are more anger-prone. (Also, Hadorians are quite Tulkas-like to me.)

Beorians - Noldor (dark hair, grey-eyed, craftsy), but the Men have more pity

Halethians (sp?) - Teleri (not social, forest-y)

Beor dies, Elves are sad and confused that it is a thing. End of chapter.

[aha-chuu]

My thoughts on the Fontaine characters rn (pre 4.0)

I saw someone making a post about their thoughts and they were tragically wrong and I disagreed. So here I am, being opinionated.

I'm not gonna discuss leaks, I'm just talking about the character designs and what lore we know from the trailer and teaser :))

Lyney

So, Lyney is great. I love that he's kind of sussy, and his teaser that recently came out is almost... Sinister. And yet, he also checks the boxes of being really fun and extroverted! Venti vibes tbh.

Design wise? His animations are the best in the game, hands down. They suit the performance aspect of his character perfectly and are almost enough to make me pull for him.

Tragically, his character design isn't really for me. I think the simplicity works with the bombastic animations, and I'm glad to see he's wearing a reasonable outfit for the job he does (a rarity in Genshin). And yet, I'm a bit too much of a lesbian to be uber interested in the twinky direction his design leans.

Not pulling.

Lynette

So she's super cute. We have got a lot of cat girls already (I think Lyney should have also been a cat-person tbh) but I love that Lyney isn't actually doing cat things. Like, she's this subdued introvert, no meowing during her attacks or curling up in boxes like Kirara. She's just a person.... Who's also a cat.

I like her character design better than Lyney's; the blue just stands out a lot more than his red does, and the big bow is a better centerpiece to her design than Lyney's hat is to his. Plus, her animations are also nice.

We're getting her for free so I likely won't pull, but I am already preparing artifacts to build her on my account.

Freminet

Have I said how much I like sibling dynamics? These three actually seem pretty close and like they will gasp interact with each other! In comparison to the likes of the Kamisatos, this is miraculous.

I know several people who love this guy, and I do think he looks good. I saw some complaints about his hair cut (I think it's adorable), and the chunky boots & coat really serve to emphasise his awkwardness without sacrificing aesthetics.

Unfortunately, he's a physical claymore character, so it's a big skip from me.

Focalors/Furina

Well she's a brat huh. I worry after Raiden that they'll destroy Furina's character arc in order to make her more palatable, but I want her to go full Marie Antoinette. All the lore with the Oceanids disliking her and the general stuff about using the court for entertainment make me very interested in her.

As a design, I just dislike the twin tails. I love the blazer and the huge gem and the hat that's actually a crown!! Like, Furina is extravagant and over the top, obviously self obsessed - she looks perfect in that regard.

Since she's the archon and she's Hydro, she'll probably be broken meta wise. I'll likely pull, but mostly to make cool teams with her, not because she's a fave of mine specifically.

Neuvilette

... Father?

FR though, I understand why several people are crazy about this man. I do wish he looked a bit older since that's sort of where his characterisation is - he's done with Furina's shit and he's doing all the actual work of running Fontaine. With the elf ears, I expect him to be some sort of long-life species - he has no visible Vision and his hair kind of looks oceanid-like, so I figure he's not actually human. That along with the slits in his eyes. I hope he turns out to be older than Furina, and that he has a kind of reluctant dad & spoiled daughter relationship with her; we do see him tell her off in the teaser.

Neuvilette is the most feminine tall man character and the hair is a great aspect of the design. The colour palette is good and I do like the robes since he's a Judge, however I think it might get a bit boring to look at when you're playing as him - which is probably why the hair is so dramatic, in order to bring interest to the design.

He'll probably be Hydro and he'll probably be a catalyst based on that outfit (it's not exactly maneuverable enough for anything else ':))). I am interested in pulling almost a 100%.

Wriothesley

Another man???

I don't understand people talking about the lack of husbandoes in Fontaine, like look at these fine gentlemen.

We don't have much official info on Wriothesley so I'm gonna dip a little into leaks here, skip if you don't wanna know. He is some sort of prison warden which I bop with - it's an expected expansion on the justice landscape of Fontaine. He's on the rough side of the Fontaine infrastructure, in comparison to most of the other characters. That interests me since it feeds more into the duality themes of Fontaine, though currently we're unevenly biased rn to the more santized characters.

Design wise he's one of my favourites. White/black/red looks so good, as does his kind of punk esque chains. The tie puts me off somewhat, like he looks sort of smart and put together, but then the rest of the design undercuts that.

Leaks say Wriothesley is a physical standard banner five star. This fills me with fear. I also don't know what his actual personality will be, so let's say I'm undecided on pulling him.

Charlotte

I liked her personality and en VA in that one TCG event, unfortunately much like that event, Charlotte looks boring. She's cute, whatever, but she doesn't seem particularly story relevant and her design hasn't captured me.

I'm just not that interested.

Sigewinne(?)

Okay, she's cuter than Charlotte she's a sea slug person so immediately more interesting. She was also hanging out with Wriothesley, which is so adorable considering how different they seem.

We're dipping back into leaks here, but it seems like she might be another Hydro healer. I've seen people annoyed by this, but I'm perfectly fine with it - I don't have Kokomi and I like Nilou bloom as much as the next person.

If Sigewinne is a four star, I hope she's on a banner for a cool five star.

Navia

I know a lot of people like this woman. Taylor Swift etc (I am not overly into Taylor Swift), but I think Navia could be cool.

I find her design overcrowded. I do think this suits the fact that we're playing with French Revolution ideas and she's part of the bourgeoisie, so ofc she's overdecorated and elaborate in her fashion. Even though it makes sense, I still don't like the arsthetic of it.

On the other hand, I do like the yellow - it's not a colour we see in too many Genshin designs. I don't really like how it fits with the blue jewellery though.

Personality wise, I worry a bit that she's gonna be our waifu bait, but they did Dehya's characterisation really well without falling into that trap. Navia could be very fun and I think there's a lot of promise in the idea that she might be a class traitor, teaming up with us against the Fontaine government (wow Genshin loves a corrupt government huh).

Will I pull? She's a geo claymore user and my triple crowned Itto is already collecting dust. That's a no from me.

Clorinde

Everyone say hello to my wife:

(I'm waiting)

I've seen so many people mad at Clorinde when I think she looks great. Her outfit is simpler than is typical for Genshin, but that's cos she's a no-nonsense fighter type! Like how we saw with Lyney, more muted designs often mean more dramatic animations, and we already saw Clorinde doing some dynamic fight stuff in the trailer.

She really interests me in that she's a champion duellist, strong enough that even Childe wants to fight her. We see Clorinde works directly beside Neuvilette in the trailer, so she must be high up in position. A gun and a sword? She's trying to kill Navia, but the Devs describe their relationship as "complicated"??

Clorinde is an Electro woman and these are always queer fyi.

I hope she's pretty straight laced, but not quite in the Sara way. She's boring tbh, mostly because she is always answering to someone else, and she gets so little screen time. For Clorinde to work, I think she needs to have independence and apt presence in the story to be explored - not just a prop/obstacle.

Her personality makes me fearful, but rn I'm pulling 100%.

[useless-donut]

just thinking about astarion is SUCH a sweet partner? like this man was barely an adult elf when he was turned, and spent the next 200 years being abused by cazador, but like

- as the durge character, he'll be accepting and talk about your mental health and reassure you

- he'll insist on staying with your half illithid character, saying you shouldnt make his choices for him if you try to leave to protect him

- also just the dichotomy of him being explicitly vain and also explicitly not shallow is very sweet

- in that one lathanders light scene, he'll tell you he appreciates you trying to fix your mistake after you caused him IMMENSE pain

- he'll empathize with and support you if you swear your body to haarlep, noting how he's been through similar and is sorry you're going through it

- hes not jealous, his issues with sharing seem to largely come from if he thinks the other party would be okay with it (like he thinks lae'zel would spear him lol), and when someone like halsin comes along he'll happily consent

- on that note, he grows enough to be comfortable asking for support and reassurance instead of possessiveness/jealousy (not that these are the only options for that scenario, but astarions seen a lot of possessiveness in his life and its wonderful how much he avoids replicating it)

- he will always attack cazador in the final confrontation if cazador starts verbally abusing you instead of him

- he puts in the work to set boundaries that allow him to engage in an intimate (emotionally, physically, but not sexually) romantic relationship with tav and apologizes for "using" him before, when his behavior was SO understandable. and also he manipulated tav by having... consensual enjoyable sex lol. he might have ulterior motives but he never actually tries to use his sexual relationship with tav to manipulate him into doing anything

- you learn how astarion felt for Sebastian and how tender he was

- you learn about the first boy astarion couldnt bear to bring to cazador, the one he called soft and sweet (or something like that) and then was punished horribly for a straight year for it

- even when you turn to a half illithid, his main concern is you losing your agency

- if you are a full illithid, at the end of the game, some people complain about him not being ride or die, but i think he shows REMARKABLE willingness and support. what he cares about most is that you are still you, and how is he supposed to know for sure? i think asking him to stay with a type of being known for manipulation and mind control after everything he went through with cazador IS A HUGE FUCKING ASK. and he doesnt even write you off immediately? thats a lot of love right there

- if you arent illithid, he will double-check you want to plan a future with him still, and only once you affirm this will he express how badly he wants it. he's actively avoiding trying to manipulate you even

and probably more stuff im just not thinking of off the top of my head. obviously this is about the spawn route vs. ascended, but im just constantly amazed that despite EVERYTHING astarion has gone through, probably centuries without a healthy, loving relationship or even examples of that nearby, he still defaults to being kind, empathetic, and caring as soon as he gets the chance

like sure, he might be minorly evil and self-serving but personally i think thats the least he deserves

more importantly, the boys from astarions past give us a rare window into what he was like before turning into a vampire—he was gentle, empathetic lover. he was kind, he was protective. and as soon as he has the space to start looking for himself again, he goes RIGHT back to that behavior. he even self-checks for his "manipulation" and tries to correct for it

it just shatters my heart and then puts it back together hes such a wonderfully written character. astarion is allowed to be lovely AND furious and vengeful and maybe its just my raised-catholic ass, but its SO cathartic to see that a forgiveness arc is never pushed for his abuser

[annoyinglandmagazine]

The Definition of Kinslaying

Summary: In which Celegorm is Absolutely Fine And Not At All Traumatised.

He’s used to it at this point. The dirty looks, the spitting at his feet, the way parents grab their children when they see him coming, the way merchants and barmen refuse to serve him, it’s a blow to the pride of a once loved prince but he accepts it with no retort no matter how much it stings. He would have fought back once, he would have been furious but that flame seems to have finally been quenched, he had just been re embodied for reasons he didn’t fully understand and he didn’t want to jeopardise it so soon. These imbeciles didn’t understand, they couldn’t possibly but he must stay here for those that did. That’s what Amme kept telling him anyway. The imbeciles comment had been an addition of Curvo’s.

So that’s what he said to himself as he walked through the streets of Valinor with his head held up without a hood to cover his silver hair, refusing to hide even if deep down he wanted to. Oh but he wanted to. But he didn’t think he’d be able to look his Atya in the eyes when he got back if he’d finally succumbed to the desire to pretend he wasn’t a son of Feanor, what was meant to be their greatest source of pride. He got the usual murmurs and jeers of ‘kinslayer’ as he tried to get through the crowd that had gathered to reach the one shop that still sold them their essentials.

But as he pushed past one of the elves he met their eyes. A Sindar. He recognised him from Doriath. A rational person would have assumed he had more of a right to that insult than any but Celegorm wasn’t the rational sort. He also never forgot a face and certainly could never forget this one. So he spoke back with a low dangerous tone that hushed the crowd and a wild grin that hadn’t graced his face in many a year, ‘You fucking hypocrite. You go throwing that word around like you didn’t earn it as well. Like I wouldn’t fucking remember what you did.’

The elf laughed mockingly ‘What I did? You can’t actually be serious, you came there to slaughter the lot of us and you have the nerve to try and criticise us for fighting back? You monsters got what you deserved.’ Celegorm clenched and unclenched his fists before replying. ‘When you killed us we deserved it. We brought it onto ourselves and you were justified in killing us. But you still drove your swords spears and arrows into our chests, you still killed us and though we killed more than you and we initiated the conflict I want to hear you admit it was kinslaying.’

The elf spat at his feet and glared at him ‘You aren’t people. Not after all you did. Killing a group of murderous orcs isn’t kinslaying. It was in self defence anyways.’ And that’s it. That’s when the fire that had begun stirring in his veins the minute he’d seen that elf’s face, clean and no longer smeared with blood but the same face and it was all too much but he was not going to get away with that. ‘Self defence. Was it self defence when you drove your sword through my brother’s back? He wasn’t armed, what kind of self defence was that? It wasn’t even defending someone else, he wasn’t fighting. Do you remember what Caranthir was doing? DO YOU?! Or did you not bother remembering the details? After all why would a monster’s death be worth remembering, staying up at night over?’

‘He was cradling Curufin’s corpse! He was wounded but he crawled his way across the floor so he could sooth our little brother’s passage to Mandos! He was a person! He may not have been a good one but he still was one and his death counted! It counted to us! You still fucking killed him!’ It had been the last thing Celegorm had seen before his death other than his assailant. He’d been in the throes of blood lust like he’d never experienced before, his desire for vengeance stronger than it had been at any point in his life the moment he’d seen his Curufin fall back with a clatter that shouldn’t have been audible in the struggle but seemed to ring clear in his head. Because Curufin was his, he always had been, they connected in a way no one really understood since the days of youth when he was a solemn little child who’d only be lifted by Tyelko and Atya.

But while his grief had instantly transferred to rage even in that state he’d glimpsed an image that would be imprinted in his mind from that moment on. Moryo, drenched in blood, breath coming harshly, easing Curvo onto his lap and leaning down to stroke his raven hair back with little repetitive Quenya phrases murmured and gently rocking him in his arms. And it was almost a familiar scene, it could have been the Moryo who used to embroider little flowers onto his tunics as apologies, thank yous or just to say ‘I love you’. The Curvo who’d sit at the foot of his bed to read and offer the occasional sarcastic remark for whole days. Except.

Except, Caranthir’s fingers left streaks of blood smeared on Curufin’s face with every caress, the murmurs were broken off by fits of bloody coughing, Caranthir was sobbing and Curufin’s eyes were glazing over. And then he’d seen him, he’d heard Moryo’s breath stop and seen the expression of shock on his face as his head fell onto Curufin’s breastplate. But he hadn’t had time to get his vengeance because his vision had gone black and he was finally able to join them. He turned on his heel sharply and walked back to Formenos, angrily pushing tears off his cheeks. When did he start crying? They’d probably all seen it to, in a public space with every eye on him. Well never mind his dignity, he needed to go see his brothers. Maybe he wasn’t quite as healed as he’d thought.

[amandacanwrite]

Violet Thread of Fate || Part Seven: A Bite

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six || Part Seven || Part Eight || Join Taglist

POV || 3rd Person Elinna Inklynn (Tav)

Scenario|| Elinna Inklynn is an orphan with an uncanny ability to mess up even the simplest of spells. It’s not her fault; she hasn’t ever had access to a proper teacher. But she has had access to books, and she’s read about a certain gentleman wizard in Waterdeep that may just be willing to help her.

She books passage on a ship from the Moonshae Islands and sails to Waterdeep, only to be rejected by Gale Dekarios. He doesn’t take on apprentices.

But their paths become inextricably intertwined when an enormous Nautiloid targets the City of Splendors.

Word Count || Just under 1,400 words

Warnings || Graphic descriptions of blood and small, open wounds. Kidnapping. Coercion. Threats of violence. Ingesting of blood. Sensual/pseudo-sexual experiences, may not be appropriate/comfortable for all readers. Proceed with caution. As always, please let me know if I've missed something.

A/N || Admitedly, this installment is very self-serving. I love Astarion and I LOVE writing vampire bites from the perspective of the person being bitten. Hope you enjoy, and I can't wait for what comes next after this chapter. (Get ready for some hurt comfort baybeeeee.)

Taglist || @verba-writing @softvampirewhump @horizonstride @thoughts-of-bear 

@mymybirdie 

@tiedyedghoulette @drabblesandimagines @madwomansapologist @hijirikaww @tryingtowritestuff24

@laserlope @auroraesmeraldarose @puckprimrose @dont-try-pesticide @cherifrog 

@circusofthelastdays  @nourangul @crucibelle @fan-aaa-tic

She didn’t know how she’d gotten here. 

She tried to parse it out as the sharp blade of the stranger’s dagger pressed into the sensitive skin of her neck. 

She’d been walking as fast as she could, avoiding Gale as she had been overcome with embarrassing emotion from her little spat with him. She didn’t know why she had been so upset by what he’d said. After all, she’d heard similar things from dozens of people in her life. But for some reason, after the night she’d had talking with him and sharing some of the darker corners of her history, it felt especially painful to deal with his sour mood. 

She didn’t want him to see her cry; not over what he’d said. Not because she felt above expressing emotion, but because she didn’t want him to think she was fragile and silly. She’d been trying to prove herself and having a fit over a simple moment of abrasive communication wasn’t becoming of a young woman who wanted to try to meet him on his intellectual level. 

But she’d been going too fast; she hadn’t even realized Gale was having trouble keeping up. As soon as he’d told her as much, though, she stopped dead in her tracks and turned to walk back toward him. 

But before she could get a single step further, an unseen hand had grabbed her by her arm and pulled her back into a tiny crevice between two stones she hadn’t even seen. A man–an elf–pressed his lithely muscular arm against her chest and jammed her against the stone wall. She inhaled to scream, but before she could, a gloved hand pressed against her mouth. 

“Shh, shh, shh, darling. Not a peep out of that pretty mouth of yours, you know what they say. Three is a crowd,” A stranger’s voice cooed in Elinna’s pointed ear. “Stay very, very quiet so I don’t have to hurt your little friend…or slice open that delicate little throat of yours.”

Just a few feet away, Gale called out for her. He was so close…if she could just make some indication of where she was to him…if she could just get his attention. 

But the stranger’s crimson eyes pinned her in place, promising violence as he whispered even more quietly. “Not. A. Word.”

She closed her eyes, a single tear streaking down her cheek as she heard Gale’s steps recede and his voice get quieter and farther away. 

“That’s a very good girl,” he cooed. “Now, I’m going to take my hand away from your mouth and you’re going to continue being quiet, or I’m going to paint the ground with your innards. Is that clear?” 

Elinna didn’t move. 

“Nod,” he commanded. 

She did. 

He took his hand away from her mouth. 

And then…just…well. 

Then didn’t do anything at all. 

In fact, he looked a little uncertain as to what he should do with her now that he had her. He looked exhausted, his pale skin taking on an almost violet hue in the delicate skin beneath his crimson eyes. His tongue flicked out over dry lips in a futile effort to moisten them. 

When she could no longer hear Gale anymore she cleared her throat. 

“Wh-what did you…what do you want?” she asked. 

The stranger’s pale brows knit in the middle faintly as the knife blade bit into her skin. “I told you to be quiet,” he snapped.

She winced as the blade barely sliced into the skin of her neck. She felt a bead of warm blood bloom over it before dripping down her neck and into her leather armor. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered quietly. 

But he didn’t respond. 

His eyes were transfixed on her neck where the blood ran down her decolletage and between her breasts. 

Nine hells, was he some sort of pervert? 

She watched him wet his lips again, then saw the bob of his throat as he swallowed. His lips curled back as the knife slid out of his hand and he adjusted to grip the back of her neck.

“What are you–” she said before she let out a surprised gasp. 

He pulled her tight against him, curling his fingers into her hair and forcing her to reveal her throat to him. She felt the gash on her neck strain against the angle he forced upon her, and then just seconds later, the strangeness of a cool, wet tongue lapping at the line of blood on her collarbone. 

“W-wait,” she said. 

“Quiet,” he snarled.

And she obeyed. 

He closed his lips over the wound he’d given her, tongue tracing the cut. Her hands came up and balled uselessly in the fabric of his shirt as she pushed against him weakly. He let out a quiet moan–not the moan of someone in the throes of passion, but of someone who had tasted the finest meal they’d ever had. 

Her heart hammered so hard she could feel the pulse throbbing in her throat. She felt exposed and enticed all at once. Frightened and fascinated. Violated and validated. 

What was this? 

She heard a faint shaky inhale, like the stranger might say something to her. But instead of words there was only a sharp jolt of pain as he sunk his teeth into her neck with an unnerving sound.

She let out a shocked cry and pushed against him more insistently. His other arm only wrapped around the small of her back as he crushed her against his body and drank from the artery in her neck. Every point of contact between their bodies was equal parts tantalizing and abhorrent. She had never felt someone’s lips on the delicate flesh of her neck…and the stranger’s lips; the small traces of saliva left as he lapped at her skin…they were so cold.

She tried to hold onto her will; tried to continue fighting him off. But the initial pain and shock of the bite gave way to a pleasant numbness that flooded through her body starting at her neck and sluicing through her blood stream. 

She felt flush and warm in the same way she had when she’d located a particularly detailed tome called The Art of the Night. Her thighs squeezed together as memories of passages from the pages flooded her mind; the heated first nights of a newlywed king and queen and the ways they partook in eachother’s bodies. 

Her attacker’s hand in her hair loosened until he cradled her head as it fell back, accommodating him and granting more access. 

He broke away from her throat and huffed in private amusement. 

“That’s a good girl,” he cooed, lips still brushing the damp skin of her neck. She felt her hot blood leave the wound and drip once against down her decolletage and between her breasts. “It isn’t so bad, is it? To be my little morsel if just for a stolen, precious moment?”

Elinna sighed out a soft sound as her legs squeezed together. The strangers manicured fingers combed into the hair at her nape again, his other arm cradling her against his body as a lover might, rather than crushing her into him as he was doing moments before.

“So pliant, so willing, aren’t you?” he cooed.

But as he once again placed his lips around the open wound at her throat her mind drifted to other thoughts…other wants.

She thought sluggishly that she would prefer warmth and softness rather than this stranger’s cold, hard body. She thought of the rough texture of Gale’s tidy beard and the full swell of his lower lip. She recalled a distant, cloudy memory of her thighs braced in his hands as he carried her up the stairs to The Perch. 

She drifted into a daydream she’d never let herself venture into; a dream of what it would feel like to be wanted by him the way this stranger wanted her right now. To be devoured by him. To feel his rough hands stroke up the outer curve of her thigh–to feel that same hand grip needily into her thigh.

And then the darkness deepened. 

And there were no thoughts at all.

[anghraine]

I decided to watch Rings of Power and I still like it! General thoughts on the first episode:

This episode does a lot of heavy lifting to introduce everything in a somewhat rough and often disconnected, but engaging enough way.

The voice-over exposition at the beginning is obviously echoing the PJ FOTR one, but it's more awkward and sort of generically high fantasy. I still like it better because a) no Númenóreans were harmed in the making of this voice-over, b) retaining the Finrod-Galadriel age gap while simultaneously leaning into their sibling bond is really cute, c) Finrod using a heavy-handed metaphor in which the greatness of SHIPS figures largely seems entirely in character and also very Telerin (Eärwen's son!!!), and d) the overall story of how Valinorean Elves ended up in Middle-earth is so highly editorialized that it feels like the self-serving Noldor version of the story, which amuses me.

I enjoyed the introduction of present-day Galadriel. She's clearly the most impressive and competent person in the company she's leading while also being kind of unhinged, which I appreciate in a female protagonist. Good for her.

And I like that she's clearly this ancient being and her fixation on FIGHTING EVIL FOREVER is, in part, a product of being old and immortal and stuck in a singular mode of being. However, she's also right and the comparatively young people around her are being condescending assholes (like Gil-galad, but especially that one guy who semi-mutinied against her and is prodding her on the ship).

(Oh, and she has great hair. I actually don't care if the entire wig budget went to her specifically.)

The only one who seems to really feel bad about their dismissive treatment of her is Elrond, which tracks. The hints that he isn't seen as quite an equal ("Elf-lords only") feels silly, but it's not a huge deal for me. And I like that he and Galadriel are bros alongside the tension in her relationships with basically everyone. S2 Celebrían plssss

I still think the complaints about costuming/hair, and incessant comparisons to costuming in PJ!LOTR/WOT/whatever are largely pretty absurd. I particularly liked Arondir's armor and how dissimilar it is from the aesthetic of the Lindon Elves, everything Galadriel wears, and the weirdness of the ritualistic armor removal as they approach Valinor. The Elves spontaneously bursting into unsettling song was odd but extremely on-brand for Tolkien, so it was fun to see it actually done onscreen.

I also think the show is quite beautiful in general and a pleasure to simply look at (no, not only because of the budget).

I don't like how heavily and visibly made-up the main female characters are, however, especially Bronwyn (who also has my least favorite costuming of any of the mains tbh). It reminds me a bit of how Padmé Amidala's heavy and perfect make-up in her death scene in Revenge of the Sith always distracts me from the pathos of the scene. God forbid she wasn't hot as she died, you know? I don't care about middle-aged and older men being cast as Elves, but I'd like to see more older actresses, too!

The Harfoot stuff has an interesting mixture of cuteness and underlying menace. It doesn't interest me as much as what's going on with Galadriel, Elrond, and Arondir/Bronwyn, but I like Nori quite a bit and the whole aesthetic they have going, so I don't mind spending time with them, even though it's kind of detached from what's going on everywhere else.

Speaking of Arondir, the Southlands stuff is interesting because there's so little to work with in terms of canon (even if they had rights to everything) and the canon that does exist wrt them is super racist. So having the textual racism towards Southrons actually be brought up in-story, and rejected by an Elf protagonist who is being played by a Black man, is like ... there's a lot going on there and other people are probably better equipped to talk about it.

Personally, I would have liked to see Arondir fall in love with Bronwyn rather than being presented with it as an established thing, especially with the conversation about how this almost never happens etc. His actor does a great job with what he's given, though, and I laughed at the other Elf who is like "do you know how rarely romances between Men and Elves ever happen? do you know they always END TRAGICALLY?!"

Arondir: mmhmm

Other Elf: THEY DIED, ARONDIR

Arondir gives off big "distracted by drawing hearts around Bronwyn's name in his Trapper Keeper" vibes in that conversation and, idk, it was just really entertaining to me.

Bronwyn herself is all right thus far. I did really like the moment when she's talking about how she's from the allegedly creepy village and the people there are her relatives and friends. By and large she seems the most normal person in the cast, honestly.

I also enjoyed how deeply ominous the "approaching Valinor" music was, lmao. A bit overkill by the end, but I rather like the idea of Valinor being scary if you're not supposed to be there.

ETA: cutting between the different plots via the Middle-earth map is a bit silly as well, but functional enough. Interesting to see Calenardhon on the map before Gondor even exists!

[slaygentford]

the jdcu: a comparative analysis in fact and fiction

several months ago I watched the netflix program mindhunter. this was a normal experience until I found out it is based on a memoir -- the work of 77 year old ex FBI agent John Douglas (jd). indeed, he is the man behind every behavioral analyst character youve ever seen, most notably jack crawford of silence of the lambs/Thomas Harris's novels, which consulted him personally.

I could not believe that those jds -- jack crawford and far more, as it turns out -- were based on the same man that jd of the show mindhunter was based on. mindhunter tv's jd is like if m3gan was a gay keebler elf. his girlfriend tells him to use his womanly wiles on murderers to get them to talk! and he does so -- the harlot! I was stunned. 77 year old ex FBI agent John Douglas consented for this little freak to be his eidolon forever on netflix? who even IS John Douglas?

and so I am compelled by intellectual curiosity to ask: by watching all jds ever committed to screen, can we qualify the multitude that is jd? and, after hearing John Douglas speak on John Douglas in his own words, can we decide who among the many is the most accurate fictional depiction? to conduct this study which is a really good use of my time, we begin by sorting the fictional jds into two categories: slaygent and hard boiled detective. after this, we will compare them to jd in his own words -- that is, his memoir and his masterclass.

mindhunter tv: let us begin where the problem first surfaced. much has been said about patient zero holden ford. a youthful thirty, he begins a career of seducing real life serial killers to learn about their behavior and so forth. many times I asked: girl what kind of interview is this? in the interest of time I will simply say that this evil roomba created and defines the slaygent category.

silence of the lambs: the next logical move. here we encounter the original and most famous fictional jd: jack crawford. despite a strong effort to manufacture chemistry with jodie foster, he is sadly still a man. three words I would use to describe this jd are Svelte, Serves in a trenchcoat, and Succinct. he falls in the middle of the slaygent/hard boiled Venn diagram.

manhunter: this jack is adorned with a rare and compelling mustache. in one scene he shouts, AND I'D DO IT AGAIN! I was not paying attention at this point to what he would do again but I did not doubt he would do it. no dignity, all exhaustion. hard boiled.

Hannibal nbc: jack crawford receives a much needed reboot! Laurence fishburne gives a nuanced and honestly moving performance of a man for whom meaning is unraveling one day at a time. this jack is sartorially aware but practical, and remains empathetic despite his painful job. hard boiled

the alienist: dr laszlo is our first sherlock holmes* archetype -- somehow this has not cropped up before now. with his difficulty relating to people, his lovely coat with a fur collar, and his genuinely sharp observations, laszlo alienist emerges as a dark horse slaygent.

*due to its original publication date, Sherlock Holmes and successive properties are not relevant to a John Douglas study.

criminal minds (& related procedurals): cm's david rossi, along with his counterparts across other networks, are unilaterally hard boiled.

though hardboiled jds prevail in quantity, slaygents are not necessarily an anomaly. now the moment of truth: is the real jd a holden ford or a jack crawford?

Mindhunter (book):

while reading this book I began to feel...discomfited. and not just because it's 400 pages of self aggrandizing ghostwritten prose. something was wrong. it wasn't until, in the last five pages of the gauntlet, that it all cohered.

jd and his wife separated because work kept him away, because he barely knew his children, and because when his daughter skinned her knee he couldn't find much empathy for the scrape because of the shit he saw all day. this isnt the unmarried antisocial slaygent ford who began our odyssey. this isn't even the stylish and heterosexual Jack Crawford of silence of the lambs, nor our mustachioed manhunter. a man who lacked empathy for his child? whose marriage crumbled? who thinks shrinks are dumb as hell? whose main recourse in difficult moments is to remind himself that serial killers are nothing but "inadequate losers" -- of no inherent interest to him outside of their contributions to his noble mission to stop serial killing?

whatever answer remains, however unfuckable, is the truth: holden ford -- and indeed any slaygent -- has never been John Douglas at all. even jack crawford is barely a jd himself. we've been overlooking the real jd all along. and he was right under our noses. hiding like the adder, right in plain sight.

the bill tench paradigm shift

a chain-smoking vet whose wife leaves him because he thinks their kid sucks? an unapproachable asshole clinging to his slippery moral high ground?

target locked.

but make no mistake. this is not yet a victory. if bill tench was right before us all along, then how many jds did I overlook with my narrow definition of a jd??? has hubris bested me again? who will we find now that the truth is blown open before us? how will we wrangle this new data into a useful paradigm? what does paradigm actually mean and can I use it in a sentence like that? questions we must answer.

I propose an ontological compromise. if we set slaygent at one end of a spectrum and the true jd at the other, we may examine all jds and potential jds without compromising the integrity of the real/tench jd, AND without ignoring the fact that slaygent ford is BILLED AS jd. indeed, slaygent and jd CAN coexist -- it is only that their differences must be accounted for.

below are MANY, though not every, possible jd.

now to the final frontier: www.masterclass.com, where for the low low price of 100 dollars you can access celebrities just verbatim reading from their memoirs. literally just verbatim reading from them. like I'm not joking like you could just go to fucking barnes and noble.

mindhunter (masterclass by jd): the discovery of this masterclass was a windfall in my work (thank you cj). now, at last, to the knowledge gleaned. jd (real) is man with white hair and a very slight New York accent. he is well fit for his age with minimal male pattern baldness. he confirms everything we have discovered regarding the bill tench paradigm shift; gruff, to-the-point, sardonic. even his controlled mannerisms are tenchian.

and so I must ask: from whence did the slaygent archetype spring? and why did jd consent for the scary keebler elf to be his proxy? despite the depth of my work, I cannot access the mind of this man, nor the circumstances which gave rise to these anomalies in the continuum.

still. in the indefatigable spirit of jd himself, I feel a theory nipping, nibbling at my ear. I mentioned sherlock holmes before, and now some unwanted voice within me calls out that very name. is it Holmes who shapes the slaygents into his image, even from beyond the grave? has all of this been a prelude to the real work -- the work of examining and classifying every Holmes committed to screen?

like vercingetorix, exhausted by the struggle, here I toss down my arms. with or without me, though, the jd quest continues. what doors remain unopened? what slaygent homunculi lay in wait behind them? and what will become of us, if we knock?