#she's ready for PoF

[countessofravenclaw]

The 2023 writing Advent calendar: Day 24

24. Elf

This is direct continuation of the Day 11 of last year calendar

“Okay, what’s next?” Gastón flicked his hand and a picture appeared on the cover of the book Nina had put before him. 

“I… Think that was the last one for the day,” Nina read o fteh scrol that had been sent over from the Dreams and Wishes in the morning. 

“Really?” Gastón questioned, “Were done?”

“I think so,” Nina nodded, “The list was quite short today.”

“And to think we have been slammed most of the year and now were getting off early,” Gastón remarked as she grabbed and pile of the books they had created today and put them in the box that would take them to the Dreams and Wishes to be packaged and ready for the Christmas Eve. 

The elves working in the workshops only got the wishlists, but the gifts more often than not were not specifieds. Only few pof the department got child specifications with the lists. Literature department was one of those, since they were creating stories. It really depended on the specific wish. 

“We’ll probably get another long list tomorrow,” Nina remarked, “When Dreams and Wishes says you’re ahead schedule, it usually mean that they have forgotten like ten scrolls into some back cabinet.”

“And you would not think it was not our problem, you’d be so wrong,” GAstón shook his head laughing, “But hey, lets enjoy today.” He raised his hand to her. 

“Really?” Nina raised an eyebrow at him, “A highfive? That’s how were doing this now?”

“Well, you were worried about someone coming in,” Gastón smirked as he hopped onto the table Nina was sitting besides. He took one of her braid into his hand and started playing with it. “There are other ways too we can celebrate… It’s just a shame you have a roommate again…” He brough his hand to her nape and started leaning forward. 

“So, how are you doing here?” One of the Artworkshop elders walked in and Gastón jumped off the table as quickly as he could have.

“Were actually done for the day,” Nina responded. 

“Really?” The elder looked at them. 

“We have been efficient,” Gastón nodded, “Even when it has just been the two of us.”

The past year had been interesting. Most of Maisteris that they had worked with previously had been old—that’s why they had all retired—and quite set on their ways. When Gastón and Nina had been left on their own to do thing the way they though would be the best, they had found themselves to be really efficient. They did work together well after all…

“That has been unfortunate,” The elder nodded, “But I gotta say, you have managed miraculously well for two apprentices.” 

“We have made it work.”

That didn’t still mean that the work load they had managed to do was meant to be carried by just two apprentice elves alone. 

***

“Uuuuu, you have no idea how many of these I had to transport while I worked at the post,” Matteo docked the hockey stick Luna was twirling around. He had spent the whole day explaining to her how the working stations worked and everything else. Why couldn’t some Maisteri do this? Why was he settled with thai healt hazard, no matter how sunny she was. “I kept dropping them.” 

“Yeah, but here we make them,” Matteo sighed, and took the stick from Luna, “We need to get this done so we can leave. Hand me the wrapping tape.” 

“UUu, yeah, we shouldn’t spent our whole night here,” Luna grabbed a paintbrush and started painting the stick. Matteo had to admit that she had a good eye for color and creativity. SOme child would definitely enjoy the rainbow pattern she was painting on the stick. “My roommate Nina is showing me around today, as when I was at the post, I didn’t really see this area at all. DO you know her?”

“Yeah, she’s my roommate’s rak—” Matteo stopped him self. The fact that Gastón and Nina were rakastavaiset wasn’t common knowledge. Rakastavaiset was the term that elves used for unbonded pairs, basically the ones who were dating. Matteo had been that with Ambar, she had been his rakas. “She works with my roommate at the literature department.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” Luna flung the last stick in it box and off they went to the Dreams and Wishes. She had some movement in her. 

“Okay, well, see you tomorrow,” Matteo nodded to Luna and walked out of the door. It was snowing today. 

“Matteo! Hey!” He came across Gastón and Nina quite quickly. They were walking in a snow holding hands. 

“You won’t believe the day I have just had,” Matteo shook his head. “How’s the books?”

“We do what we can,” Nina responded, “I still can’t believe they just have left us alone.” 

“You don’y think anyone from the academy will join you next year?”

“We can never know,” GAstón shrugged, “Not just anyone can work in literature. It requires as specific gifts. I mean, anyone can make hockey sticks…”

“Hey! My sticks are works of art,” Matteo rolled his eyes. 

“Whatever you say.” Gastón rolled his eyes back. 

“Incoming…!” Suddenly a torpedo of some sort, or a fallen star, crashed in a snow pile next to them.

“Luna?” Nina exclaimed as a head of brown frizzyr hair popped out of the snow.   

“Sorry about that,” Luna puled her hat back on, “I miscalculated the jump.”

“How were you able to jump that far?”

“That’s my gift,” Luna explained, “I can do crazy acrobatics, but I can’t always control them… oh hi Matteo.”

“We worked together today,” Matteo explained.

“That’s right?” Nina asked before looking at Gastón, “This is Luna, my new roommate. Thihs is Gastón, we… work together, and Matteo you knew apparently.”

“Cool, nice to meet you.” Luna did a spin in the air. 

“Well, anyways I promised to show you around so We’ll see you guys later.”

“So, you work with thet guy?” Luna asked teasingly after she and Nina had left the.

“Yes,” Nina nodded and tried tpo sound nochalant. “It’s only us there now.”

She had taken the liking to Gastón immediately as she had gotten out of the academy last year., but she didn’t think he would have ever liked her back, until he did. She had to believe that North Star had intended this.

There were lots of stories of the North Star and the romantic bondage. Some of the elders said that everyone had their intended rakas, who they were meabt to be bonded with, but it was never quaranteed that the rakastavaiset would ever meet. 

North Star could only bind together the intended. There were stories of failed attempt that more often than not led to break up—nothing said more about not being meant to be together than the strongest force in the universe saying so. That was one of the reasons why many rakastavaiset often kept thng secret until they got bonded. 

Many of he younger left generation believe that not everyone had an intended at all. Some did, some didn’t. They were old elves who had never gotten bonded. It was more to personal preference nowadays.

Only hiccup was that you would’t able to become Santa if you were unbonded. The North pole needed Mrs. Claus. Once the boss died, the North Star picked the new one. No knew how that worked and most didn’t even want to know. Most elves had no ambition to become the next Santa Claus, but no one knew what was to come. 

“Imagine if he was your intended,” Luna continued with a reading tone, “right before you.”

“It would be crazy,” Nina smiled smally. “How about you? Did you have fun with Matteo?”

“Well, yeah,” Luna nodded, “I mean it was my first day and I have never worked at the workshops before so it was but crazy.” 

“Matteo is Gastón’s roommate,” Nina explained, “He’s harmless, but a bit full of himself.” 

Well, nothing really happened in this, because I need to make this into a full length story someday. Maybe next year's Christmas... Hopefully you enjoyed the lore and a side note: Matteo is much nicer here than in the canon because there is no assholery in the North Pole, because of magic

[sylvarilining]

Say hello to Mheop!

Quick summary on how she became a Revenant: She's from the Elona deserts, and all her life she was greatly inspired by Vlast. When Vlast was blasted, she was crushed, and felt that Vlast's mission was left unfinished. During her mourning, she heard a voice calling to her, leading her to a crystalline lair of memories. There she met Glint, who offered her, the meek and timid asura a chance to continue Vlast's mission. And Mheop agreed.

She basically has Glint as a constant presence in her head, giving advice on how to be braver and on the everyday choices. Glint has taken a guiding role, where she wants to help Mheop better herself, but knows she cannot give her the ready answers, but that Mheop has to arrive to them herself. Mheop is not a fan, and just wants to hear what she should do to become better, faster, stronger and cooler, but she still listens to Glint.

As their connection's grown stronger, with Glint's aid, Mheop has manifested crystalline wings, mirroring Glint's own. As someone who has grown up in a cave in hiding all her life, Mheop finds the prospect of flying terrifying, what if she gets stuck and won't be able to land back down?? Glint finds this fear adorable, but won't push Mheop to trying out the wings before she's ready.

Having this connection with Glint herself, and having sworn to continue Vlast's mission, Mheop becomes somewhat of a helper of Elona herself, participating in the Commander's mission (PoF and lws4 basically), though the Commander has trouble trusting this person who refuses to tell anything about herself, and who has these strange Mist powers. If asked, she will say she doesn't regret her chosen path, but she does wish she had thought more about the amount of public speaking and "sufficient amounts of showing off," as Glint puts it, that following Vlast's footsteps would bring.

ALRIGHT GW2BLR im not sure if ive made a post like this before but whatever

TELL ME ABOUT YOUR REVENANTS!

since the lore around them is so wonky, tell me your headcanons! how did they become a rev? what does it even mean for them (or you) to be a rev? what legends do they channel/communicate with, if any at all? if you have multiple revs, how do they and their powers differ? if theyre a rev in game but something different in your canon, why? what are they?

[zyera]

😍❤️

[birchbow]

*approaches like a starving victorian orphan* pls may we have have an excerpt 🥺

I've been working on original novel stuff and Winter Soldier inspired pale Gamkar stuff for a hot second, so there's not a ton of new PoF to excerpt at the moment, but u know I can never say no to interest in my fics haha :D

--

The door opens again, and it’s not a quadrant of yours this time.  A sister with a crest of hair bright mutant red between her horns and more scarves than clothes comes in like she’s got a suspicion she’s being followed, and closes the door sharp again behind her.  Looks real familiar—for a second, you can’t quite place her.

And then you recognize, and are taken immediate by both anger and delight.  Aggravation at the motherfucking presumption, to come to you after you closed court—simultaneous, the anticipating joy of a building joke well set up to add to.  You’ll play to the joke, but not at expense of your authority.  This little motherfucker better learn quicker than you suspect she will, or she’ll have quite the lesson coming.

Karkat turns back to look at her with an expression far from inviting, folds his arms in all his shiny imperial armor and glares at her.  She pays him attention enough to look and then nod, and then crosses the Big Top, bows at you and then bounces up a careless touch sooner than she should.

She says, “I got your message, my lord.”

You consider her, and whether you sent any kind of message, and are quickly and assuredly positive that no such motherfucking thing did you do.  Karkat looks from you to her and back and seems to determine that exact thing, from what tell of yours you don’t know—his eyebrows go up, and then down, and then crease in the middle.

“We’re in the middle of imperial business,” he says, strict and snapping like he must be with his recruits.  “And court’s closed.  Do your auditory sponges not fucking work?  Is your thinkpan damaged?!  Or do you just think you’re too good to listen to a direct order from the Grand Highblood?”

“I was invited,” says Ardeen, and looks, expectant, to you.

--

(And one or two brief snippets of things still dubiously canon and half-written:)

-

It’s pan-rot stupid of you, maybe—you know he won’t go easy on you, tough old hatchet of a motherfucker, with all he knows and feels and has done—but on All Colors Week, the rules lay out that you can get up in a holy champion’s personal business and challenge that motherfucker for a flag.  Not to grief them, you’ve got your ass whipped enough times by now to know you’re not ready for that yet—but if you manage to impress in their chosen challenge, that flag in royal purple is theirs to grant and give over, and you’ll be honored like a motherfucking champion yourself the rest of the holiday.

He won’t go easy on you, because he doesn’t go easy on any motherfucking one, but in scripture—in scripture if nothing else, you think you’ve found ground you can hold.

“Feeder Stædfast,” you say, and he lifts a brow at the manners you’re aiming at him, turning full to face you and snapping shut his book.  “I think you got something there you might hand me over.”

Both brows up this time, double surprised.  “Oh," he says, "Is that so?”

-

“Nitram,” snarls Kurloz, and then he moves like a lightning bolt and tries to take your friend’s head off his shoulders.

-

Karkat looks at Sollux, then at you, then opens his mouth, and then clamps it shut again and does what appears to be some kind of painful breathing routine, like he’s physically compressing his rage down into something manageable.  When he opens his eyes, his voice is very nearly calm.

“Okay,” he says.  “Fuck.  This is going to take some cleaning up.  Shit.  We can salvage this.”

[song-ofthesky]

While both The Starblazer and King Sarastro detest the idea pof physical battle- as much as they want to tear each other's throats out, they also know physical battle would be a serious liability- both have extensive battle armor ready for them at a moment's notice. Their armor sets are very different in terms of design and execution.

King Sarastro's armor is far, far older than he is. The bronze plates were sculpted and welded together many generations ago, and have only been kept in use with careful regular upkeep. His mother wore this armor, as did his grandmother, and his great-grandfather before her. However, it also features leather sleeves that were custom sewn to befit Sarastro himself. While his gloves are also custom-sewn, they feature reinforced brass claws that are nearly as old as the bronze plating. The lion's head design is meant to resemble the rays of the sun, and features an interlocking rim where the King can wear his crown on top of his armor. The armor is nigh indestructible, but it also does not quite fit Sarastro, having mostly been designed for somebody else. It is also very heavy and cumbersome to weild.

The Starblazer's, meanwhile, is the polar opposite. Made of a flexible metallic material, her armor is lightweight and made specifically to fit her, letting her whirl around in the midst of a fight at a moment's notice. There are segmented plates among the belly and straps over her arms to make sure she is comfortably protected. She also sports a crescent-shaped blade on her helmet in order to protect her head, and spikes down her back to protect her spine and to ensure she can't be pinned down as easily. She has rubber gloves with reinforced metal claws, long and pointed so she doesn't have to put as much physical force into combat. She thinks of her armor as the future of design. However, it is also very flimsy. Her armor has to have parts of it replaced after every battle, and it only takes a two to three fights for the armor to have to be completely rebuilt.

Both also have long, hooked swords that are used by cats as both long-range weapons and walking sticks to aid support (as cats were not really meant to be up on twos, despite what they say). Their curved design makes it easy to turn around in battle and to wield, as well as easy to hold support on them. Usually they have two, but one is nearly always discarded at some point in the fight.

They have only physically fought each other once- maybe twice?- before. So there is no clear consensus on which armor is 'better' over the other...

[i-mybrunettelady]

I’m not entirely sure I have enough material for a full on Headcanon time post, but I do have a snippet of human headcanons that occurred to me recently that I wanna share

So if you’re grieving, right, aside from wearing black (which isn’t really a requirement aside from wearing it to the funeral itself), one of the surefire ways to know someone’s in grief is hair. Krytans grow it out, regardless of whether the style suits you or now, and hair can go to surprising lengths with these. You cut most of it off as a sign that your mourning period is done. There are also mourning-specific hairstyles that people wear.

On the flipside, Ascalonians cut half of it off. That’s why Nyra cuts hers pre-season 3, leaving her with shoulder-length as opposed to her previous half-back one. She does this the morning before his funeral and places it where his body would’ve been. That’s also why she gets in some heat when she refuses to cut half of it off after Deborah goes missing; she doesn’t fully think Deborah is dead, but for the off chance that she is and that’s an idea she is too scared to accept (she’s 15 and her sister’s been declared dead without a body to confirm it) she cuts 1/4 of it. She also cuts 1/4 when Forgal dies, but that’s because, once again, she isn’t ready to let go yet.

She stops observing this custom after PoF. As we know, Balthazar burnt most of it off when he killed her, leaving her with extremely short hair that she can’t help but dislike to this day because of that, and for a while, any significant hair shortening brought her varying levels of distress depending on the point she’s gotten to in therapy, so she ditches it. Nice thing about being Krytan-Ascalonian is that she can always say she’s now doing it the Krytan way.

And it’s here that we stumble upon yet another inaccuracy in her in-game design - canon!Nyra actually has hair that’s at the very least reaching half her back, maybe even longer. But hey, I’ve long since accepted that in-game Nyra will never look 100% like her canon self, so I’m fine with that :)

[kerra-and-company]

Tell me about Kerra's development in the last few years. Are things going to plan? Or is the plan long gone?

❤️ @wall-legion

Hmm, interesting interesting... (and thanks a bunch for the ask! :) )

Kerra's plans consistently run into the roadblock of time. She is truly doing the best to live the best life she wants to, but the world won't stay out of danger long enough for her to truly let go of the sense of...readiness, I guess? She still doesn't feel like she can stop being prepared for something to go horribly wrong in some way, but she's still trying so hard to spend time with her partners and Rhi and Aurene and her friends. It's almost the paradox of "if you try not to think about something, you just think about it more." She's trying hard to be something closer to carefree than she is, and it's...just not working, not really, not well.

At the same time, though, she is legitimately happy, maybe happier than she's ever really been. She's taking steps to say that she knows what life she wants and she'll get there all the way someday, and she knows very well by now that she won't have to take those steps alone. She remains as in love with her partners as ever, and she loves her kids, and she has very good friends, and she visits her Mother every once in a while (though that's awkward, sometimes). I guess a good summary of the last couple years is Kerra putting her day-to-day personal things more and more front and center, if that makes sense.

Kerra's also had to deal with the fact that she can't prevent her kids from being thrust into world-altering events before they should be/before they're ready--Aurene with...well, pretty much all of PoF and LWS4, and Rhi with EoD (since they were part of the crash-landed-on-the-beach squad). And that's something that's really really hard for her, because she'd give almost anything to give them time--to be ready, to grow, to just exist somewhere safe. And she can't truly do that for them any more than she could do it for herself.

[dissidiacloudstrife]

I know you're doin a series of bluebell's timeline but if this doesn't interfere with that too much can I ask how she feels at the end of EoD?

rubs my gay lil hands together, she feels a lot better! eod spoilers o/

pretty much bluebell's life has been Stress for anywhere, even after PoF when her (almost dead) brother came back, and her Liliaceae family, when she lost her memories and was slowly getting them back. she just defaulted back to that stoic-ness. especially after getting balthazar's powers.

EoD was sad, and just a lot of realizations. how the narrative really pushed the gods abandoning the people in smaller dialog got to bluebell. and how soo-wan talks about being a family with the other elder dragons makes bluebell realize this is their home as much as it's theirs.

originally, bluebell wasnt going to have anything to do with becoming a new god. she was a sylvari for one, and she didnt think she should have been given this mantle, when she fucked up so much with her Wyld Hunt, and becoming vlast's champion.

but it happened regardless, and she was just, gonna use the powers for good with the commander, and aurene. but now, she sees, this is her home too. shes a god like being, and this is her home, and she will defend it.

and this is something i never really wrote about, but bluebell and vlast have a good relationship! but because of the stuff with becoming a god, and bluebell basically ignore vlast, there was always a rocky foundation. will bluebell and vlast actually accept this? together? who they are? (they do eventually)

and at the end of story, where the commander is saved by aurene, bluebell is saved by vlast! during this, she accepts herself as the new god of truth and justice. this sparks a combination of powers, from vlast giving his, and bluebell giving hers. instead of bluebell looking more like vlast, vlast looks more like bluebell!! and he finally becomes an elder dragon because of the powers given to him.

bluebell at the end, is full of hope. shes happy, shes ready to move on, completely, from her old teachings. vlast is bluebell's scion, and aurene isn't alone with him. she's laughing with everyone, she cant stop picking people up to celebrate.

she might be a new god, but this is her home too, with everyone. and she's going to do her best!

[piratestrash]

And i am sorry i skiped one part, i will send it again (ignore the previous one)

Teague: “Well, Jackie, I must say, you have got yourself a fine ship here.” (pejoratively) “Much better than that one you started out with. What was that leaky old bucket called?”

Jean: “The Barnacle!” (laughs)

Jack: (infuriated) “Yes, ha-ha-ha. I’ll have you know the Barnacle was a fantastic—well, great—well, seaworthy—for the most part—respectable boat, and it would have served me well for many more years if you hadn’t gotten it blown up by the Royal Navy”

Teague: “You should thank me. You’ve evidently moved up in the world. I wonder how long this one will last you.”

Jack: “None of your beeswax! Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have some bartering to do.”

(He tries to leave, but Teague stops him)

Teague: (disapprovingly) “Still wearing too much eyeliner, I see.”

Jack: “Listen, when you’re captain of the fastest ship in the world, perhaps we can have a conversation about my fashion choices. Until then, adieu.”

Teague: (smiles "innocently") “Jackie, the least you could do is stop by and say hello to the family.”

Jack: “Now why would I want to do that? Years ago, I ran away from home precisely to get away from that ‘family,’ remember? And you, I might add.”

Teague: “Now, Jackie, your grandmother would be so delighted to see you😏”

Jack:“No, she wouldn’t. She’ll probably try to kill me. Again.”

Teague: “Well, probably. But just think what she’ll do [to you] if she finds out you were here and didn’t say hello😈”

[Jack shivers and finally agrees]

[...]

Teague: “Very well. To the mansion, then…Grandmama awaits😈😈”

And what bothers me with those dialogues are:

Every time Teague wants to make Jack believe that he is clueless about something he calls him "Jackie"? Or that he follows a specific tactic? At first he makes his order. If he takes "no" for an answer, he belittles Jack, then he gaslights him ("I did it for you", "yu should thank me"), then he tries to make him feel guilty/scared ("you almost killed your grandmother", "if you dont do as i say, you are going to suffer") then he makes him doupt himself ("i never said that!", "you didnt understand me! I always thought you were great!") and at last he uses violence through others.

In the Sins of the Father, Teague makes Jack sound as a stupid teenager who can't understand his parents. BUT when he said “Here you are just thinking...” he was WAY to specific to be making all this up at the moment. And there Teague said clearly that Jack wasn't good not "wasnt ready". And Jack wasn't ready to follow Teague on his adventures when the boy was a teen (almost an adult) and WANTED to but he was ready when he was 10 years old (and younger) and had no choise? And "I NEEDED"? He didn't want to help his son? He NEEDED to rescue him? And Jack said "as if you'd LET me forget". What kind of father brugs about saving his son?

Also Teague never praises his son (on the other hand he LOVES belittling him) but NOW that he wants him back he remembered that his son is good and need praising? And when he returns (in the pof) he starts again calling Jack useless? Gaslighting much.

In the Wild Waters al this mocking is infront of his people, the whole Madagascar and infront of Jack's crew (including Barbossa). I dont think he respects Jack at all.

(I am pain in the ass, i am sorry and again thank you for answering🙏)

Hey, I thoroughly enjoy this. It gives me more direct quotes to work with and I love talking about this. You aren’t a pain in the ass. I am loving all this discussion.

He definitely does not have much respect for his son as a pirate or as a family member. He either doesn’t understand Jack is a kid or treats him as a young child instead of a teenager.

Jack is treated like he‘s a toddler who can’t think for himself and needs his hand held for everything, but then expected to handle things no teenager should.

Teague is definitely in the wrong for holding this stuff over his head. For one, Jack didn’t ask to be saved. That was his own choice. Second, that’s his son.

But the worst part is, he doesn’t realize he’s in the wrong here. He can’t even recognize that he was abused, let alone that he is abusing his son.

He loves Jack. I cannot stress this enough. But he’s a horrible paren to put it mildly.

I also have huge issues with the implications of Grandmama and what that meant for Teague in his childhood.

[sparrow-flies-south]

Soft Rains

Fandom: Sanders Sides Pairing: Thomas & Janus Warnings: Violence, aftermath of violence, aftermath of torture, blood and injuries Word Count: Summary: Thomas doesn’t seem to believe him, though, because he sighs. “Do you really think I’d be okay with this?” Janus shrugs. “You seem to think everything I do is bad.” “That doesn’t mean I want you hurt. I want you to be okay.”

Pre POF: In order to escape from another dark side, Janus hides in the one place they can't follow - Thomas's apartment.He doesn't expect Thomas to actually care about what happened to him.

Notes: I'm going to be honest, this is pretty much just an excuse to write Janus whump. All the violence happens right before the story begins, but it's talked about throughout the fic. Title comes from the poem "There Shall Come Soft Rains" by Sara Teasdale. It has absolutely nothing to do with this fic, I just think it's neat.

Also on AO3!

Janus presses himself against the wall of the coat closet as if he’ll be able to disappear into it. He can hear footsteps in the corridor, the sound of doors being thrown open as Wrath looks for him. He closes his one good eye and tries to focus on his breathing, but his ribs burn with every inhale. Everything hurts. He thinks his ribs might be broken, and the human side of his face is so swollen from the beating that he can’t see out of that eye. The snake side stings in the places where his scales were cut away. He presses a hand to his right shoulder, trying to stem the sluggish bleeding.

“Here, snakey snakey,” Wrath sing-songs and Janus curls further into himself. “Come out now and I won’t break your legs.”

He should do what Wrath says. There’s nowhere for him to hide, no chance of escape. But Remus will be back from the imagination soon. All he has to do is open the closet door, maybe Wrath will go easy on him. He just needs to hold out a little longer-

But he won’t. He’s not brave, or noble, or self-sacrificing, not like the light sides. If he goes back then Wrath will just keep hurting him and he will break and let the others out, let Thomas see all the parts of him that he’d tried to hide. And then it won’t matter what Wrath decides to do with him, not when they have a foothold on Thomas’s mind.

The footsteps move down the corridor. How long until Wrath throws the cupboard door open? He could try to run, try to get to the imagination. He might even make it. But even if he does, the imagination is large, and filled with deadly beast and pitfalls.

There’s the light side, but that would just prolong the inevitable. Virgil would probably be glad for the opportunity to throw Janus back to the wolves.

There’s only one other place he could go to, and that’s Thomas’s apartment in the real world, which-

Which might work.

Wrath won’t be able to follow him there, not while Thomas doesn’t know about him. Of course, Thomas wouldn’t want Deceit around either, but the light sides go there all the time. Thomas would let one of them stay.

There’s no way for him to hide his injuries, so he picks the side most likely to get hurt and shifts.

A wave of pain crashes through him as his body changes. He cries out before he can stop himself. He freezes, panting from the pain, as the footsteps grow closer. He has to go now.

He tries to sink out but his body fails him and he collapses, shaking.

“Knock, knock,” Wrath calls.

Janus grits his teeth and gathers all the strength he has left. He pushes away the pain, pushes away the fear. The only thing that matters now is appearing in the real world.

He collapses again, and he sobs because it doesn’t matter now, nothing matters. His fingers bunch up in the carpet.

Wait- carpet?

He forces his head up, and blinks away the stars in his vision. He lets out a sob of relief once his vision clears because he’s not in the cupboard anymore, not in the dark side. He’s on the floor of Thomas’s house, in front of the TV where Roman usually stands.

“Roman!”

Janus blinks. Thomas is hovering a few feet away, looking uncertain. Behind him, he can see his discarded laptop on the sofa.

“Ah, Thomas,” Janus says, trying to Roman’s voice. Stopping it from cracking is beyond him now. “I may be in need of assistance.”

“I think we’re way past may,” Thomas says. “What happened?”

He should have seen the question coming, should have prepared an answer, but there was no time and it’s too late now. He’ll just have to wing it.

“That Dragon Witch,” he says. “I, uh, got into a fight with her.” He gives Thomas a rueful smirk. “It did not go in my favour.”

Thomas takes another step forward, and then stops, eyes narrowing. Janus’s heart stutters.

“You and the Dragon Witch have a truce,” Thomas says.

Crap.

“Well, clearly she broke it,” Deceit says.

Please believe it. Please don’t ask any more questions.

“And that’s Roman’s old costume.”

Janus blinks and looks down at himself. Sure enough, he must not have been careful enough when he put on the disguise. “It’s laundry day?”

Thomas shakes his head and sits down on the couch. “What do you want, Deceit?”

He drops the disguise, and his muscles shake from the relief of it. He stays down, stares at Thomas’s carpet. He doesn’t want to see Thomas’s reaction to his current state.

“You can get up now,” Thomas adds, and Deceit flinches at the coldness in his tone.

He pushes himself up with his arms. Maybe if he goes along with it, Thomas will listen to him, and he’ll be allowed to stay. But as soon as he puts any weight on his legs, he collapses back to the floor.

“Deceit?” Thomas sounds strange now.

Janus doesn’t answer, just glares at the floor. His whole body is shaking, and he doesn’t understand why he can’t just do this. There’s nothing wrong with his legs.

“You- you’re actually hurt.”

Janus looks up, frowning, because of course he is, why does Thomas sound so surprised, but before he can say anything Thomas is right there, one hand gently touching his good shoulder.

Janus flinches back, tries to raise his arms to protect himself.

“Sorry! Sorry.” Thomas leans back, raising his hands so that Janus can see them. “What happened to you?”

“You- you don’t want to know,” Janus answers.

“I’m pretty sure I do, actually.” Thomas shakes his head. “Do you think you cans stand if I help you?”

He eyes Thomas warily (what is he thinking, why does he want him to stand?) before he nods. Thomas carefully loops one arm under around him.

He doesn’t stand so much as let Thomas pull him up. Once he’s on his feet, Thomas tries to let go and he staggers, grabs Thomas’s arm to steady himself before he can think better of it. The arm returns around his back, another touching his side, supporting him.

“Okay,” Thomas soothes. “You’re doing really good. We just need to make it to the couch. Come on.”

With Thomas’s help, he’s able to stagger the few feet over to the couch. Thomas lowers him onto it gently.

“Stay here,” he says, as if Janus would be able to stand even if he wants to. “I’ll be right back.”

And then he’s gone.

Janus misses him immediately. With Thomas around, Janus had felt safe, irrational as that feeling might be. But now he’s gone and there’s no one to stop Wrath. Nothing to stop him dragging Janus back to the dark side, and he won’t be able to escape a second time, they’ll break his legs so he can’t run and then cut off his scales one by one, just like they’d threatened.

Someone enters the room, and Janus shrinks back, curls in on himself like if he’s small enough and still enough no one can see him.

The person comes closer. He chokes out a sob, and now they know that he’s scared, that he’s weak.

“Deceit?” they ask.

He can’t look at them, can’t see if they’re amused or disgusted by his weakness. Can’t bear any clues that looking might give him.

“I’m sorry,” he says, though he knows useless. “I- I won’t try to run again, I promise. Please.”

It’s a lie. And even if it wasn’t, they wouldn’t believe him. They’ll just keep hurting him and they won’t stop. They’re never going to stop.

“Deceit,” the voice sounds strangled and Janus goes still, waiting for the blows to start. “That’s- I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe.”

Janus shakes his head. They’re lying, they have to be, but he can’t sense the lie, can’t smell it on the air. Something must be wrong with him, with his senses, and now he’s lost one of the few defences he had less.

“Deceit, look at me.”

He doesn’t want to, but it’s an order, and not obeying will just make things worse. Slowly, reluctantly, he lifts his head from his arms.

Brown eyes, looking back at him. Brown hair, messy from running his hands through it. A Steven Universe t-shirt, because it’s comfortable and he doesn’t plan on going out today.

“Thomas,” Janus gasps.

Thomas smiles, though his eyes are watery. “Hey. You’re safe, okay? Whatever happened- it’s not going to happen to you again.”

Janus shakes his head. “Making promises you don’t intend to keep?” he tsks. “Patton would be so disappointed.”

“I mean it,” Thomas says firmly. “They’re not going to touch you.”

It’s the truth, but that doesn’t make any sense.

“Why?” Janus breaks out. “Why would you?”

Thomas hates him, thinks he needs to be locked away. Why be so upset when someone has finally done what Thomas has always wanted.

“What do you mean why?” Thomas asks. “Look at you!”

Janus shrinks in on himself. “I’m aware of what I look like,” he hisses.

Thomas just shakes his head. “Who did this?”

Janus looks away and doesn’t answer.

“Deceit, please,” Thomas begs. “I- I want to help.”

Janus says nothing. Let Thomas get mad and yell or hit him or refuse to help until Janus answers. He’s doing this for Thomas, to keep hidden what needs to be shut away so it can’t ruin Thomas’ life. He just needs to keep Thomas safe, keep him protected. As long as he can do that, nothing else matters.

“Okay,” Thomas says, sounding tired. “If- if you’re not ready to tell me yet, that’s okay.”

Janus looks up suspiciously. The lie tastes over-sweet on the air – Thomas isn’t okay with him not saying anything. But he doesn’t look mad- instead he just presses something cold into Janus’ good hand. He looks down at it- an ice pack. He glances back at Thomas, confused, but Thomas is fiddling with something he has with him – a first aid kit. Janus hadn’t even noticed it was there.

Warily, Janus lifts the icepack to his eye. The cold soothes his bruises, quietens the fiery pain.

“I want to look at your injuries,” Thomas says. “Is that okay?”

Janus nods warily.

Thomas pulls out Band-Aids, a roll of gauze and a brown bottle. He hesitates. “I’m going to have to touch you.”

Of course he does. Still, Janus shudders at the thought of someone getting close, of touching where he’s already injured, and what if this is all a trick, what if Thomas wants Janus to let his guard down so he can hurt him even worse?

“Deceit?” Thomas prompts quietly.

“What- what will you do?” Janus asks.

“Honestly, I have no idea.” Thomas runs a hand through his hair. “This wasn’t exactly in that first aid course I took. I guess- those cuts on your face need cleaning. Uh, are you hurt anywhere else?”

Janus swallows, digs his nails into the palm of his hands and uses the sensation to keep himself here, to stop himself from slipping back to that room. “Shoulder’s bleeding. Broke my ribs, I think.”

Thomas nods, grimacing. “Okay. Thank you for telling me. I’ll need to clean and bandage your shoulder, then.” He holds up the bottle. “The antiseptic is going to hurt.”

“I’ve almost certainly had worse,” Janus says drily, and Thomas looks as if he’s just been slapped. Okay, so maybe his humour isn’t appreciated in this situation. “Just do it.”

Thomas nods. “I’m going to start with your scales.”

He waits, and when Janus doesn’t say anything he moves forward. Janus forces himself not to flinch back when Thomas’s hands move towards his face. It’s fine. Thomas won’t hurt him, even if he doesn’t like him much.

Thomas is right about the antiseptic, but it’s still better than when Wrath had slid the knife under each sale and twisted until they come loose.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Thomas says as he dabs at the cuts, a soothing mantra that Janus almost believes.

It doesn’t take long to clean them, Wrath had only cut off a couple- he’d gone slow, whispered threats in his ear between each one, giving Janus a chance to give in but all he’d done was shake his head and cry. Wrath had gone to get something else, something that word hurt even worse, and Janus had been able to crawl out of the room, had managed to push himself to his feet and stagger into the closet, even as Wrath had yelled because he’d noticed Janus was gone.

“Will they grow back?” Thomas asks, pulling Janus back to the present.

He touches the spots, even if it makes his shoulder scream in protest. Thomas had covered the wounds with Band-Aids while Janus had been lost in the past.

He nods in answer to the question. It’s a lie, Janus has no idea what will happen, but Thomas looks distressed enough. Let him believe that everything will turn out alright, like they do in Roman’s stories.

“Okay,” Thomas says. “That’s your face done. I should look at your shoulder now.”

Janus waits, but Thomas makes no move forward.

“You, uh, you need to—.” he gestures at his own chest.

Janus blinks, confused, until he figures out that Thomas is asking him to take off his shirt. His good hand is still holding the icepack so he summons two more to fumble with the clasps of his coat. It takes far too long – his hands won’t stop shaking – but he’s finally able to let it drop off his shoulders.

He reaches for his shirt next, and then hesitates. What will happen if he refuses? Will Thomas let the matter drop? Will he keep pressing? Or will he not care what Janus wants, will he hold him down and force his clothes off him with Janus too weak to stop him?

Thomas touches his right hand, curled uselessly in his lap. “It’s okay,” he says soothingly. “There’s no rush. You can take your time.”

Just like that, Janus can breathe again. He has to let his extra arms disappear to take the shirt off, leaving him one handed. Getting his left arm out if easy enough, but the fabric sticks to the blood coating his right shoulder, and he winces in pain as he peels it away. Thomas hovers nearby, arms just above Janus’ shoulder, but Janus doesn’t give him the opportunity to step in. He lets the shirt drop to the floor. It’s probably ruined now, anyway.

Thomas sucks in a choked, startled breath when Janus straightens. Whether it’s at the scales that run down his abdomen, or the mottled bruises that cover his ribs, Janus can’t tell.

“Fuck,” Thomas says wetly. “Deceit, what-?” he cuts himself off. “Okay. Okay. Uh, I’m going to clean and bandage your shoulder now. I don’t think I’m meant to do anything for your ribs except- fuck, pain killers. I can’t believe I didn’t offer them earlier.” He digs around the first aid kit. “Uh, I only have Tylenol. Is that okay?”

“It’s fine,” Janus says.

Thomas hands him a couple of pills and fetches a glass of water. Janus takes them without a word.

“Okay, shoulder now.”

He holds up the antiseptic and bandages, and Janus nods, once. He closes his eyes as Thomas wipes at the wound. The knife didn’t go all the way through, thank God, but it’s still deep. The sting of the antiseptic brings tears to his eyes.

“You don’t have to if you really don’t want to,” Thomas says carefully, setting of every one of Janus’ alarm bells. “But I’d really like to know what happened.”

Janus doesn’t bother to open his eyes. “Would you?”

“Of course! Deceit, I want to help.”

For a moment, Janus believes him, almost enough to say don’t call me Deceit. Call me Janus, my name is Janus, because he’s already bleeding, already stripped bare, so what’s one more defence?

But then the part of him that is self-preservation wakes up, and he sneers instead. “And if it was one of your precious Light sides? What then?”

He watches as Thomas reel back, looking horrified. “I don’t, I- Was it them?”

Janus hesitates, and then takes pity on Thomas. “No, it wasn’t. But my point still stands: you shouldn’t make promises so easily.”

“In this case, I think I should,” Thomas says. “You were tortured.”

Janus flinches. That’s not- it wasn’t- it wasn’t torture. It was just pain.

(Denial’s always been what he’s best at)

“And you know all the facts? What if I deserved it? I could be tricking you this entire time.”

“The facts are that you were tortured,” Thomas repeats, eyes wide. He’s crying, something he’s been doing off and on the whole time. “You- you know this was wrong, right? Whatever happened, doing this to you was wrong.”

He knows. It had been just one more reason to refuse Wrath, because if that was how he got what he wanted, Janus had no desire to let him influence Thomas.

Thomas doesn’t seem to believe him, though, because he sighs. “Do you really think I’d be okay with this?”

Janus shrugs. “You seem to think everything I do is bad.”

“That doesn’t mean I want you hurt. I want you to be okay.”

Anger flares up inside him. “Well maybe then you shouldn’t have ignored me!”

Thomas gapes, and Janus immediately regrets what he said.

“What do you mean?” Thomas asks.

Janus curls in on himself. He should be smarter than this, should me more controlled that to just blurt out the first thought that crosses his mind. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“What does me ignoring you have to do with- with what happened?”

Janus hesitates. If he answers, it might upset Thomas more. Might make Thomas think he’s lying, or that this whole thing is a setup to get Thomas’ attention. But if he doesn’t…

“Our strength is linked to our functions,” Janus says. “The sides that you acknowledge, that you use, are stronger. The ones that you repress are weaker.” He tilts his head back so he doesn’t have to look at Thomas. “My purview is lies and denial, the things you hide from others, and the things you hide from yourself. You’ve been a lot more honest lately.”

“So you weren’t strong enough to fight them off,” Thomas finishes, sounding horrified.

Janus nods, gritting his teeth tight together. He shouldn’t have spoken, hadn’t wanted to reveal this to Thomas.

Perhaps he can pretend that this is all part of a plan, that he’s showing his weakness for a reason. Look what you’ve done to me, wouldn’t it be so much better if you listened?

“Fuck,” Thomas says. “Deceit, I- I’m sorry.”

“It’s not… entirely your fault,” Janus says.

“Still, if I’d have known…” Thomas doesn’t finish the thought, which is good. That is one thing Janus would not be able to stand being lied to about.

Janus closes his eyes. Thomas has finished helping him, but he hasn’t told him to leave yet, and Janus intends to take full advantage of whatever guilt or pity Thomas is feeling. Perhaps he can get Thomas to let him stay. Or, if not, perhaps he can at least ask Thomas to summon Remus.

“What are you going to do?” Thomas asks.

He doesn’t know. “Remus is in the imagination. I’ll be safe once he gets back.”

“And until then?” Thomas asks.

Janus doesn’t answer.

Thomas moves, and Janus opens his eye, but all Thomas does is sit on the sofa, leaving as much space between him and Janus as he can. Janus watches him for a moment, but when Thomas doesn’t make any more movements, he closes his eye again.

Exhaustion is beginning to crash down on him. It seems his body has finally decided to stop pumping out adrenaline. Perhaps it’s responding to Thomas’ presence. Perhaps it has just stopped caring.

“The sky is green,” Thomas says out of nowhere, and Janus opens one eye to give Thomas an incredulous look.

“What-,” he begins to say.

“The sky is green, the grass is blue. Uh, my name isn’t Thomas Sanders.”

Lies. Small ones, the ones that taste like cough medicine, ones no one would believe. But then, there’s no one around to believe them.

“Are you seriously trying to-?”

“Is it working?” Thomas asks.

Janus hesitates. The fire that had consumed most of his body has lessened to smouldering pain. He reaches up and touches his face. It feels less swollen, now.

“It… is.” He hadn’t expected something as simple as that to work.

Thomas nods, and keeps going. “Okay, uh, today isn’t Wednesday, I hate Disney, uh, if you swallow an apple seed a tree will grow in your stomach.”

Janus closes his eyes. He still feels tired, still doesn’t know what he’ll do when he wakes up. But he’s safe, and his pain is fading, and the sound of Thomas’ voice is soothing.

“I don’t care about you,” Thomas says. It tastes sweet.

And, because Janus knows that he’s safe, he sleeps.

[purple-saladleaves]

for your consideration, a couple of ask prompts! :) feel free to pick one, the other, or both! “This isn’t open for discussion.” and “I can’t lose you.” -kerra-and-company

thanks for the prompt!! this one got,,,,,, a bit longer than I expected it to, everyone had Emotions and they didn't want to say what i planned them to. i hope it's alright? and that none of the canon characters are too ooc. i tried my best with them but i'm still super new to writing these guys. this takes place during the party at the end of PoF, so big spoilers for all of that, plus spoilers for the end of HoT.

-----

Not for the first time tonight, Efalynn cursed the fact that she was the "legendary Pact Commander". She wouldn't wish the job (and all that came with it) on another, not in a million years, but at the same time, she was sure anyone else would have been much better at the aftermath. Instead, here she was, having to step outside for the third time because some thoughtless comment knocked the wind out of her. The cool evening breeze helped choke down some of the nausea, but the memory of that child... that wasn't going anywhere fast. "I want to be just like you when I grow up." How could anyone look at her, with all her scars and burns and terrifyingly blank eyes, and want to follow her example?

"You're terrible at speeches."

Efalynn let out a mirthless laugh and continued staring at the gently lapping waves. "I'm well aware, Canach, but thank you for the feedback. Here to drag me back inside?"

Canach hesitated for a strangely long time before answering. "Actually... we wanted to talk to you."

"Oh? What about?" Efalynn replied, turning to face her friends.

Kas smiled gently. "We just wanted to make sure you're alright."

"I'm fine."

"So you're not planning to run off this time?" Rytlock growled.

Efalynn stiffened. "Can't this wait? I hardly think now is the best time."

"No, it can't. Who knows when you'll disappear again? Tomorrow morning? Tonight?"

Kasmeer placed a hand on Rytlock's arm. "Stop it, Rytlock. We're not going to get anywhere with accusations. But," she said, looking at Efalynn with an undecipherable expression. "He's not wrong, Commander. I'm sorry, but we have to talk about this."

"Not. Now. Please." Wisps of dark green energy began to coil around Efalynn's fingertips, and she clenched her fists to hide them. Control yourself!

"We wouldn't need to have this conversation if you'd listened to us three days ago," Rytlock said.

...They'd talked about this before? Efalynn's blood ran cold. She'd thought the lapses in memory had stopped.

"I-- I didn't... I don't..."

"You don't what? Care?"

Canach shifted uncomfortably where he stood. "That's too far, Kasmeer."

"No, Canach, we need to remind her. You just left, Efalynn. We hadn't heard from you for months. Months! We thought you might have died!"

Avoiding Kas' intense gaze, Efalynn mumbled a sheepish reply. "I didn't. It was fine."

Canach turned his glare on her now. "You know that's not the point."

"You don't get to do that to us again. Friends don't do that to each other," Kas snapped, crossing her arms.

"I--" Efalynn started to say, scrambling for some defense that didn't require her to explain the true reason for her disappearance.

"No excuses," Rytlock cut in.

"I... want to. But--"

This time, it was Canach who interrupted her, his voice sharp. "This isn't open for discussion. Talk to us. Let us help."

"Instead of throwing yourself into danger all the time."

"It isn't like that, Rytlock--"

"Really? Then explain that," said Canach, with a raised eyebrow and a gesture to her new greatsword. It was a simple blade of dark steel, longer than Efalynn was tall, and brutal in its efficiency. "You've never been one for close range."

"I learned how to use a new form of magic in the D-- before I killed Balthazar, and the greatsword helps channel it." Efalynn rolled her eyes, putting on a show of irritated confidence to hide her shaking hands and burning eyes. "Must I explain the principles of necromancy, or will you allow me to use my power as I see fit?"

"As long as you aren't taking stupid risks," Rytlock replied, pointing at her. "Like trying to take on a war god yourself and dying because you were too stubborn and proud to ask for backup!"

Efalynn flinched, stumbling back a few steps. That was... "I-I wasn't, I didn't--" She pressed her fingers to her eyelids, hoping it would calm her down like it usually did, but all she could feel was the burn, the charred mess of bark from the fire that killed her--

The breath caught in her throat, and Efalynn was thrown back into memories that felt all too recent.

Rhiannwen's body, stiff and mutilated and her fault.

The feeling of Caladbolg in her hand as she murdered her best friend, pain in his eyes, the knowledge that she could have helped Trahearne if she'd gotten there sooner, the knowledge that it was her fault.

Aurene, arriving in time just to watch her Champion die, Aurene terrified and wrapped in chains, and it was her fault.

What if Efalynn's mistakes got her friends killed too? What if they were also sent to the Domain of the Lost, and were trapped by Efalynn's refusal to accept her fate? Or what if they did come back, knowing the agony of dying in battle, and hated her for making them suffer?

Either way, she would be alone.

Alone, and with no one to blame but herself.

The thought was unbearable, and--

"I can't lose you!" Efalynn blurted.

There was a long silence, broken only by Efalynn's whisper. "I'm sorry."

"Commander..." Kas said, voice now gentle with sympathy.

Efalynn took a deep, shuddering breath, then made pointed eye contact with each of them. "Too many people have died on my watch. I refuse to let any of you become another victim. That is why I left." (Truthfully, it was only half of the reason. But Efalynn couldn't bear to see how they would look at her if she told them about what happened to her sister. About what Efalynn did.)

"Ignoring us isn't going to protect us, boss," Rytlock replied. He sounded gruff as always, but there was a note of understanding to it.

"I'll just lose you faster." Efalynn's voice was almost inaudible.

This wasn't working. She wasn't going to keep them safe like this.

Efalynn let out a long sigh. "Fine. You're right. I'll keep you updated." It wasn't technically a lie. She would just... omit the parts that weren't necessary. Who knows how they would react to Rhiannwen? How she would react to them? It was too much of a risk.

"Thank you," Kas said. "We'll hold you to that."

For a minute, it was quiet between them, the silence stiff and awkward, until a loud cheer sounded from the nearby party.

"I suppose we should get back inside, then," Canach huffed. "Unfortunately."

The conversation had sapped Efalynn of all her energy, and the thought of going back into that party was almost unbearable. But there were important people to talk to (and damage control to do after that disastrous speech) before she would be allowed to slip off. So, as she had done many times before, she took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and stepped back into the persona of the Pact Commander, ready to deal with whatever the world threw her way next.

Everything was going to be fine.

[commander-gloryforge]

ASTRIDS MOUNTS!!!

here are all of Astrids canon (named) mounts at the time of IBS!

Her first mount, Scratch the Raptor! He's a very goofy little guy and basically more of a dog? He was gifted to her when she first arrived in Elona and saved that village from the forged. He was one of the weaker Raptors, not as fast as the others, but he certainly is a very loving companion to Astrid! Scratch got injured a lot during the course of PoF, he's a VERY brave Raptor that tends to disobey Astrids orders at times. She may think a distance is too far to jump for him, but he'll just go "fuck it" and try anyways. And he does succeed most of the time, though he strains his body a lot.

Frostwing the Griffon! Astrid raised her from the egg. She started out as an Owl Giffron Hatchling Mini that I bought from a heart vendor in Bitterfrost... Frostwing was basically among the eggs that Astrid rescued during LWS3, and as soon as she hatched she'd start following Astrid around! She'd get herself into a few dangerous situations following Astrid into all those fights, even out of Bitterfrost. She even followed her onto the pact airship to Elona, where she'd eventually go missing/run off by herself. Only after The Departing, Frostwing would show up again, a LOT bigger, though still not fully grown. And at the very end of PoF, she had grown enough for Astrid to ride her! Turns out she also kind of consumed plenty of magic on Astrids adventures, which made her bigger and stronger as well!

PETEY! WE ALL KNOW AND LOVE HIM! After Gorrik and Astrid grew him together and he was ready for action, the two actually also decided to tune him a bit more while they were at it. Since both of them are (at that time) holosmiths, theyengineered around a little and found a way to utilize the Holoforge to make that bug even FASTER! Of course this is much more safe than the Holoforge Astrid uses to fight, and there is no need to worry about overheating and damaging himself!

The newest addition to her team! Stardrop the Skyscale was also raised from the egg! She's VERY attached to Astrid. And she's VERY strong. And she VERY much likes to jump at Astrid and push her around. Startdrop is Astrids "main" mount of sorts? Scratch can finally retire now! She also gets along quite well with Frostwing. They might aswell be girlfriends idk.

[heyitsmejona]

Jona’s Story

background reference 

Story under the break!

TABLE OF EVENTS:

Backstory

Zhaitan

Mordremoth [HoT]

Break [LW3]

Balthazar/Joko [PoF]

Kralkatorrik [LW4]

Jormag [IS] 

Warning: Some big spoilers for every single story part in GW2 ahead! 

1. Backstory

She was born and raised in Divinity’s Reach and had a more or less protected childhood. It was always her dream to become a member of the Seraphs. But her parents died really early into her teenage years because of a bandit attack on their bakery. Then it was only her older sister and her, who had to make due by themselves. Her dream was slowly moving away from her, they had to sell the bakery and she started to work as a barmaid in one of the taverns. As she reached adulthood her sister met her future spouse and moved to Queensdale a few years later. Jona remained in Divinity’s Reach, until she spit up a bar fight between a group of Seraphs and citizens. That is when she first met Logan, her life made a full turn afterwards and she soon carried the armor of the seraphs proudly. Her name grew after she saved the Village of Shaemoor, helped her Quaggan friends and became a member of the Vigil. Still unaware of future events, her life began to enter a downward spiral as her sister got captured by the Harathi. She managed to save her just in time but after she brought her to safety she had to depart, to save Lion’s Arch from an unknown threat.

2. Zhaitan

After joining the vigil, she fell in love for the first time. It was truly magnificent for her. She wasn't on to make friends easily, so this pretty much surprised her. After she saved Lion’s Arch from the first Undead attack. The massacre of Claw Island was a blink away. Her love died on that island, she would never return to. Her anger and rage was short, but her grieving began. She went to Orr, fought the Undead and their master Zhaitan. But her heart grew empty. So many good people died there, her groll was mostly aimed at Trahearne. She could not even look him into the eyes anymore. She always wondered how he could lead so many people into their wet graves with the look of excitement on his face. But she also gave herself a load of guild too, she didn’t stop it. She knew you weren’t able to save everyone but she could have at least tried a bit harder. That was when she entered another turning point in her life. She left her friends behind and disappeared. She wanted to help people but this was not the way.

3. Mordremoth

The expedition into the Heart of Maguuma and its failure happened. She couldn't just close her eyes about the whole event, so she went to help. But not as the commander, just as a mere soldier with a new face and name. Maguuma was hard and unforgiving, she did  not stay until the very end. She could not, the thought that her friends were captured and might die just because she didn't offer her help, broke her. During all this she only met Aurene only briefly one time. She made a beeline for the Shiverpeak Mountains. 

4. Break

One of her sister’s friends, an old norn woman owned an abandoned homestead not far from their own. She offered it to Jona in exchange for a little help with the Dolyaks and the Sons of Svanir. Almost no one from her former life knew where she was, or if she was still alive. Until she began to exchange letters with Zojja. Who wrote her about all the things that happened in Maguuma and Trahearne’s and Eir’s death, that Logan and her were still recovering and what all her other friends were up to. They build a strong friendship over the many letters exchanged. It helped them both, to tend to old wounds and give each other a helping hand as they built themselves anew again out of their broken parts. After a while Jona made the decision to travel again, see where she could help folks out. And maybe she slowly got her mind ready to finally stop running.

5. Balthazar/Joko

With the “discovery” of The Crystal Desert and Elona her travels were bound to end up there eventually. She met her friends in a fight against the Forged and helped them out. Both sides were not really ready for the sudden meeting, but when is one ever ready for something. The climate was tense and the remaining trust only a thin strand. But Jona stayed and the old nature of their friendship started to shine through. But she was a different person now, not entirely, her essence was still the same but some parts changed. She was wiser now and more collected and ready to die for everyone. Which eventually happened by the hand of Balthazar. She didn't really mind, it was peaceful? She had to return of course, there were still things to do but it brought to her a certain comfort. She didn't have to fear death anymore. Joko, the master of the Awakened was only a mere wood lump in her way, which she stepped over easily. He was a bit funny, I think they could have been friends in another world. But her next problem wasn’t far ahead.

6. Kralkatorrik

The third elder dragon she met ate Balthazar? And she was off to fight a new threat to the world. She didn’t go by commander anymore though. She was just Lady Jona to her colleagues and subordinates. Many still called her commander of course, and just blatantly ignored her request. The title was a form of respect to them. She wondered if her suffering would ever find an end. During all of this she got finally introduced to Aurene. Aurene knew that Jona was her champion, it was supposed to be this way. But Aurene also saw that Jona would not easily be swayed into this position. It took a lot of trust and many personal talks to accept that this was her destiny. She liked Aurene, and saw her more like her little sister over time. She planned to introduce her to her older sister, once this was over. Because let’s be real, Aurene’s original family totally sucks. They deliver Kralkatorrik from his pain together. But another war was as always about to start soon.

7. Jormag

After Kralkatorrik’s defeat, the relationship between the Charr legions began to boil slowly but surely, and soon the blood legion attacked and Bengar's betrayal would let the galaxy fall into disarray. (I’m sorry) Jormag whispers weren’t far away and grew louder and louder. They wanted Jona to become their champion. Jona was prone to listen, these times would expose themself to be another straining experience on her mental wellbeing. She almost gave in a few times, would not have others been there to help her find a way through the snowstorm. Almorra’s body was discovered, another friend and lost love gone.But she was stronger this time and Aurene and Taimi got her back. Braham and her still didn't talk about Eir much but Rox grew to be a new friend and ally in dangerous situations. Gorrik turned out to be funny and she almost adopted him, she loved that little guy and would always listen when he told her about Blish. She isn't really one to hold grudges, so when she found out that Rytlock released Balthazar and Ryland was his son or that Gorrik was a former member of the Inquest she almost toppled over from laughing so hard. She even forgave Braham for blaming her for Eir’s death, even though he didn’t talk to her about it. He wasn’t so wrong after all but not justified either. But damn, did she hate Ryland.

To be continued?

[pdaliceliveblogs]

Junna has some really impressive set ready for her here-- do they get to rehearse this? How does the weapon figure in; is she going to be fighting Hikari WHILE SINGING? Also, that glow on the end of it definitely looks Magic And Significant... on to pof which, what’s honestly messing me up the most right now is why didn’t Karen know about this? She’s been at the school as long as the others, she’s in the same class with them, she auditioned at the same time. Is it because she mirrored her choreography in the audition so they figured she was a liability? Is someone protecting her?

god I’m fascinated

[cousinslavellan-archive]

Pre 3, Love 11 aaaand Domestic Life 9 for Braham and Terra if ur still taking more of these! <3

Hiiiiiii ♥ ♥ ♥ I’ll ttly do more for these dorks!! :> Thank you so much for the ask!!! 

3. Did any of their friends or family want them to get together?

Short answer: yes lol.

Long answer: Rox could tell there was something between Braham & the Commander long before she ever knew about his Soul Mark, and wondered why he never tried to talk to Terra about anything. She and Taimi, who also found out about the same time, ‘shipped it’ for lack of a better term lol.

Rytlock has seen Terra has a sort of ‘niece’ for years as well, and could see them working well - so he was happy when it eventually came about. Kas very much also shipped them long before seeing Terra’s Soul Mark during PoF.

11. What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise?

So I am baaaad at connecting music/songs to ships or characters haha. But I have found that ‘Trails of Fire’ from the movie Promare sort of fits them, especially the lines going ‘Trails of fire // You always knew // They would carry me home // They’d lead me to you’ since, eventually, they do think of each other as home.

9. Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

Definitely Braham! Terra is a morning person... the Norn is very much not. So there’s plenty of mornings where she’s trying to get up to get ready for the day, and Braham will just... loop an arm around her, and nuzzle in against her, mumbling and warm and so very convincing without even really needing to try.

[cycleof-dusk]

an ask for you, if you'd like! :) “let me guess, you can explain? terrific. tell me how i’ve misunderstood this.” -kerra-and-company

oooh a good one!

a little context on this - from early LS3 to the end of Path of Fire, Sionedda had a tryst with Canach, and while I adore him as a character, they were very much not as compatible as they thought they were and his bets throughout PoF’s story were hell on her

takes place immediately after the Departing

edit to put it under a readmore because it’s kinda long on the dash oops

“Let me guess, Canach, you can explain?” Her voice is gruff, hissing out from between gritted teeth, “Terrific. Tell me how in the Pale-fucking-Mother’s ever-living glory could I have misunderstood what just came out of your mouth.”

“You didn’t misunderstand. As for an explanation...” the other sylvari looks out over the sand. “The more money we can rack up, the more funds we have to get the hell out of here faster.”

“That’s not how it works and you know it. Are we- am I- a game to you?!”

She’s finally pushed herself up for the most part, and normally, she’s happy to flounce around in her homegrown (and rather revealing) armor, but now she curls around herself, trying to obscure or make smaller the massive, gnarled scar across her torso. She gladly accepts the leafy cape Trahearne drapes across her shoulders, tugging it tight around herself.

“I died! We both died. And- and after we- after all that all you can think of to speak about is a BET?!”

“Sapling, you should re-”

“Shut up. Don’t talk to me. I’m going back to Amnoon, by myself. Pick me up when all of us are ready to talk about how to get Aurene back.”

There’s silence as she hops down, accented only by the occasional death wail of a creature that gets too close and is sufficiently put down by well-placed lightning bolts.

“I’ll follow her and make sure she’s okay,” Aym finally speaks, sighing.

“Will she be okay? Will both of you be okay?” Kasmeer’s voice is small, still processing that her god did this to them.

None of them needed her ability to discern lies as Aym half-assedly smiles and lies, “Of course.”