#thorne's writing challenge

[flowersforthemachines]

Rook Joins the Book Club - Mod

As one of the many people sad that Rook wasn't included in the Book Club, I set out to fix it by editing the codex entries in the game :)

There are 6 versions of the mod available, one for each faction. Here is a showcase of the Warden version:

The rest of the entries can be found under the cut.

Crow Rook:

Lord of Fortune Rook:

Shadow Dragon Rook:

Veil Jumper Rook:

Mourn Watcher Rook (typo in the word "possession" is fixed in the latest version of the mod):

[inexplicifics]

Today's tiny Wolfblood fluff-and-smutlet is Traptych:

Lambert, Aiden, and Milena are each trapped...and very happy about it.

[tessa-liam]

Snow Wars

Brothers-in-Arms Series- Prequel

🥰Thank you to @snoopdogcone for your ask - 

Prompt:  Snowball fight - Week 2 December 1st to 7th @choicesprompts 

Choices Book: The Royal Romance, pre-book #1

Series:  Brothers-in-Arms, prequel/one-shot 

Pairing: None  Warnings: none

Characters: Liam Rys, Drake Walker, Maxwell Beaumont, Leo Rys, Olivia Nevrakis, Eleanor Rys, Trystan Thorne 

Rating: Teen - All characters belong to Pixelberry

Category: angst/fluff, ask/prompt 

Words: 1.7k, not Beta’d, please excuse all errors 

A/N: A ”Brothers-in-Arms" series prequel

A/N2: Trystan Thorne - Choices, Crimes of Passion

A/N3: My submission for: choicesdecember2024; Day 10, snow; Day 30, snowball fight @lilyoffandoms

Brothers-in-Arms Series

Snow Wars, Prequel

Summary:  Liam, Drake, Maxwell, Olivia, Leo, and Trystan engage in a spirited snowball fight during their winter stay in Lythikos. What begins as a friendly challenge quickly turns into an epic battle, filled with strategy, laughter, and good-natured rivalry.  

On a crisp winter morning in Lythikos, eight-year-old Prince Liam gazed out of the frosted window of Lythikos keep. The fresh snowfall blanketed the landscape in a shimmering white, and an idea sparked in his young mind. 

 “Snow fort,” he whispered to himself, eyes lighting up with excitement. 

Rushing to his quarters, Liam rummaged through his suitcases until he found ‘The Young Adventurer’s Guide to Winter Fun’. A gift from his mother, Liam flipped through the pages, he stopped at a detailed diagram of a snow fort, complete with instructions on stacking snow bricks and carving tunnels. 

“This is perfect!” Liam exclaimed excitedly, clutching the book tightly and rushing back down the grand staircase. 

 He quickly found his best friends, nine- year-old Drake and eight-year-old Maxwell, in the keep's cozy sitting room. Drake, the practical and steady son of a palace guard, was warming his hands by the fire, while Maxwell, always brimming with energy, was busy fashioning a makeshift sled from a serving tray. 

“Who’s up for building the greatest snow fort in Cordonia?” Liam announced with a grin, holding up the book like a treasure map. 

Drake, ever the skeptic, raised an eyebrow. “A snow fort? Isn’t that for kids?” 

“Drake, we are kids,” Maxwell chimed in, already excited. “I’m in!” 

“Looks like we have a deal,” Liam said, clapping his hands. “Let’s divide into teams!"

Olivia, sitting quietly with her hot cocoa, perked up. “I’ll be on Liam’s team!” she declared, her cheeks turning pink. At seven years old, Olivia was already fiercely loyal to Liam, even if it was mostly because she had a budding infatuation with him. 

“First,” Liam said, flipping the book open to the diagram, “we need to make snow bricks. The book says to pack snow into molds to make them strong.” 

Drake, ever the realist, crossed his arms. “Molds? We don’t have molds.” 

“Not a problem,” Liam said confidently. “We’ll use whatever we can find—buckets, pans, anything.” 

 Armed with pots, pans, and boundless enthusiasm, the three boys and Olivia ventured into the snowy expanse and trekked to the edge of the icy lake near the keep, followed by several Royal guardsmen. The air was cold and crisp, their laughter echoing as they began packing snow into their makeshift molds. 

Maxwell, already covered in snow from head to toe, announced loudly, “I’m the official Chief. Brick. Maker!” 

 Drake rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “Fine but make them sturdy. No crumbling bricks.” 

Meanwhile, Olivia took charge of decorating the fort with pine branches and icicles, making it “look royal.” Adding a small Cordonian flag attached to a stick, she propped it into a turret top.

Hours passed as the boys stacked their snow bricks into walls. Liam, with the book propped open nearby, directed the construction like a young architect. Drake ensured the walls were straight and stable, while Maxwell worked on a tunnel inside the fortress walls.  

By the time the sun began to dip behind the snowy peaks of the surrounding mountains, the fort was complete. It stood tall and proud, with sturdy walls, a small entrance, and even a snowball arsenal inside. 

 “We did it!” Liam declared, his cheeks flushed with triumph. 

 Maxwell flopped onto the snow, exhausted but grinning. “This is the greatest thing we’ve ever built!” 

Drake leaned against the fort’s wall, nodding in agreement. “Not bad, Your Highness. Not bad at all.” 

 As the evening settled over Lythikos, the four friends sat inside their creation, sharing stories and sipping hot chocolate brought out by the keep’s kitchen attendants. For that moment, the snow fort wasn’t just a fort—it was their Kingdom, a place where adventure and friendship reigned supreme. 

><><>< 

 The winter sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the snow-covered grounds of the keep. Crown Prince Leo and Crown Prince Trystan of Drakovia stepped out of the black SUV, their boots crunching in the freshly fallen snow. It had been a grueling day of lessons—diplomatic protocols, strategic warfare, and a particularly tedious lecture on trade agreements—but now, finally, they were free. The sixteen-year-old young men were having military lessons at the army stronghold nearby. 

 As they walked towards the main entrance of the keep, Trystan nudged Leo with his elbow. "Looks like someone’s been busy," he said, pointing in the direction of the lake. 

Leo followed Trystan’s gaze and smirked. Beside the outline of the frozen lake stood a grand snow fort, its walls expertly packed and reinforced, with small openings that served as lookout points. Surrounding it were scattered piles of snowballs, clearly prepped for an impending battle. From behind the fort's walls, they spotted movement—Liam’s blond hair peeked out, followed by Drake’s unmistakable silhouette and they heard Maxwell’s exuberant laugh. 

“Oh, absolutely,” Leo replied with a grin. “Let’s show them why we’re the older brothers,” as they moved toward the lake. 

 Without another word, the two princes bent down, scooping up handfuls of snow to form their own ammunition. Trystan was already calculating strategy. “We’ll flank them—split up and take the high ground. They won’t know what hit them.” 

 Leo chuckled. “Or, we could just charge in and cause chaos. That’s more fun.” 

 “Chaos it is,” Trystan agreed, and with that, the battle was on. 

Behind the fort walls, Liam crouched low with Drake and Maxwell. “They’ve seen us,” Liam said, his voice tinged with excitement. “Stick to the plan.” 

 Drake, ever the strategist, nodded. “We’ve got the fort’s protection. Maxwell, you’re our wildcard. Keep them distracted.” 

 Maxwell saluted dramatically. “Distraction is my specialty.” 

As Leo and Trystan advanced, Maxwell popped up from behind the fort, holding a massive snowball. “Incoming!” he yelled, hurling it with all his might. The snowball arced through the air, landing harmlessly a few feet from Trystan, who retaliated with a well-aimed shot that splattered snow across Maxwell’s face. 

“Direct hit!” Trystan cheered. The battle began with a flurry of snowballs flying through the air. Laughter echoed across the courtyard as both teams ducked, dodged, and launched their icy ammunition. 

Leo, meanwhile, launched a barrage of snowballs at Drake, who blocked most of them with an improvised shield of snow. “That’s all you’ve got?” Drake taunted. 

 “Oh, not even close,” Leo replied, sprinting forward and scooping up more snow as he went. He hurled two snowballs at once—one hit Drake’s shoulder, the other narrowly missed Liam. 

 “Nice try!” Liam called out, popping up from his hiding spot to lob a snowball at Leo. It caught him square in the chest, leaving the older prince momentarily stunned. 

“Think we’re being challenged?” Trystan asked, raising an eyebrow. 

 “Little brother’s got a good arm!” Leo laughed, brushing snow off his coat. 

Drake proved to be an excellent snowball sniper, hitting his targets with impressive precision. Maxwell, on the other hand, turned every hit into a dramatic fall, faux-claiming to be “mortally wounded” before springing back to life. 

Olivia stuck close to Liam, her aim chillingly accurate, but her real focus on staying by his side. “Liam, watch out!” she cried, tackling him to avoid one of Leo’s well-aimed snowballs. 

“You saved me, Olivia!” Liam said with a grin. 

“Of course I did!” she replied, blushing. 

 The fight continued on with laughter echoing across the grounds. Maxwell, true to his word, caused chaos by running circles around Trystan, throwing snowballs in every direction. Drake held his ground valiantly, while Liam alternated between offense and defense, his precise throws keeping his older brother and Trystan on their toes. 

 Finally, as the sun dipped below the horizon, the princes called a truce. They stood together in the snow, breathless and rosy-cheeked, their earlier lessons and responsibilities momentarily forgotten. 

 “Not bad, little brother,” Leo said, clapping Liam on the shoulder. “But next time, Trystan and I will bring reinforcements.” 

“Bring whoever you want,” Liam replied with a smirk. “We’ll still win.” 

As they walked back to the keep, they exchanged playful jabs and stories of their victory and near-misses. For a brief moment, they weren’t princes with the weight of kingdoms on their shoulders, or children—they were just brothers, and friends enjoying the magic of a winter’s day.

The fun came to an abrupt halt when Queen Eleanor Rys, Liam’s mother, appeared on the scene, her presence regal yet warm. 

“Liam, Leo, and everyone,” she said with a smile. “It’s time to get ready for the ribbon-cutting ceremony in the city.” 

“But we’re in the middle of a war!” Leo protested, his snowball in hand. 

Eleanor raised an eyebrow. “A snowball war can wait. The people of Lythikos are expecting us, Leo.” 

“Olivia, I’d like you to join us,” Eleanor added. “I could use a young lady’s perspective.” 

Olivia’s face fell. She had been looking forward to spending the rest of the day with Liam, and the thought of being separated from him was disappointing. 

Olivia hesitated, glancing at Liam. “Do I have to?” 

Liam crouched down to her level, brushing snow off his gloves. “You’ll have fun, Liv. And I’ll see you later, okay?” 

“Okay,” she mumbled, still reluctant but unable to refuse Liam’s gentle encouragement. 

A Memorable Day ...

As Eleanor led Olivia away to a waiting SUV, the others exchanged knowing smiles. “Looks like we’ll have to finish this battle another day,” Liam said. 

“Next time, we’re building two forts,” Leo declared as he ran inside to change his clothes for the ceremony.

"Or three!" Maxwell added with a laugh.

Despite the interruption, the day had already become one of those cherished childhood memories that none of them would forget. The laughter, camaraderie, and hint of youthful rivalry in the snowy dukedom of Lythikos marked the start of many more adventures to come.

'There's so many different worlds

So many different suns

And we have just one world

But we live in different ones'

❄️Thank you @sazanes @lizzybeth1986 for creating and hosting King Liam Appreciation Week✨️💖✨️ Day 5, Healing

❄️Artwork Commission by /artbyainna

@kingliamappreciationweek

@choicesprompts

@choicescommunityevents

@choicesmonthlychallenge

@choicesficwriterscreations

❄️Tags in the comments

[imrowanartist]

Shameless Self Promotion Saturday!

I was tagged by @thedissonantverses two weeks ago, but since I was on holiday I didn’t have time to post anything or make new stuff. But now I do! So here we go!

Just posted the first chapter of my new 5+1 series on AO3! It’s DavRook and will explore some moments between Davrin and Tamryn throughout the game. You can find it [here]

I’m also still running an expression challenge, for which you can find the rules here. It was paused for a little bit while I was on holiday, but I’ve been working on the next few asks since I’m back. You can find the finished expressions with #ro’s expression challenge 2025 (tagged at the bottom of this post as well)

Last but not least, please give my friend @redhairedmuses’s Rook some love! (Full art here) Lennox is an absolute sweetheart and the fic Natalie is writing about him and Davrin is going to be so good. I love making art of them for her <3

Tagging @redhairedmuses @tkwritesdumbassassins @ezriell @davrinsleftpectoral @rookanisstuff @mythals-whore @raccoon-is-my-spirit-animal and whoever else wants to join, consider yourself tagged by me!

[airlockfailure]

Last Line Challenge!

I was tagged by @loverboy-havocboy and @brokenphoenix99 and this is my delayed reaction. This is from one of the perspective paths for Interitus:

Thorn clenches his fists, armor creaking as he fights to control his temper.  “That’s your man in that transport.  This is your sector.  How many troopers do you think you lost to this… meat house?” he asks. Behind his visor, Thire blinks away tears.  He shakes his head, unwilling to guess.

NPT: @seascribbling, @marbled-polecat, @gun-roswell, @thatonegreyghost

[clone-wars-winter-challenge]

So.... Apparently I forgot to do the last poll for a week and it was only a day long..... So with that being said ..... I shall give you one more since i clearly didn't look at my post hard enough 🤦🏽‍♀️🤣

[teamtakagi]

Words with Friends

Rules: Use the challenge word to write a sentence or scene and then tag a few friends. Happy writing!

Thank you for tagging me, @a-mumbling-nerd and @lunammoon!

I'm lightly tagging @glittering-darmallon , @duskflight , and @paragondreams if you'd like to participate!

This week's word: Egregious

1: Exceptional, conspicuous, outstanding, most usually in a negative fashion.

2: Outrageously bad; shocking.

______

Following the path of a missing magister’s son, Jerran and Neve venture undercover deep into Minrathous’ seedy underbelly and find themselves in the territory of Ulma, the leader of an infamous trafficking group. Jerran and Neve are discovered while poking around and brought to Ulma’s Pleasure Lounge.

_____

Jerran shifted as he felt the sharp point of a sword press ever so slightly into the worn cloak covering his shoulders. He’d left the Grey Warden armor at home; most clients of the underground tended to clam up when they saw any symbol of law and order. 

Brands and tattoos ruled here.

Beside him, Neve Gallus raised her chin, regarding the slight woman lounging on the couch in front of him. “Ulma. I’ve heard your name, but never seen you in person.”

“Neve Gallus. I don’t know whether to be honored or perplexed that the Protector of Minrathous is here.” Ulma brought an ornate smoking pipe to her lips and inhaled slowly. “I thought we had a deal.”

“Been chasing a lead. It led here.” Neve tilted her head. “Missing magister’s son. Scrawny, dark hair. You heard of him?”

“Sorry. I’m just the simple proprietor of a pleasure house.” Ulma spread her fingers, jewelry dripping from her hands and down the ample cleavage of her thin dress. “Your servant there … I know many who’d pay for a night with him. Could get you far in your search. Maybe even pay your rent for a year. What do you say?”

“Sorry. It sounds boring,” Jerran said. 

She sniffed. “Gallus, tell your little elf servant that his manners are egregious.”

“I have ears, thanks. Big ones too.” Jerran grinned.  “And I’m not her servant. She works for me.” That should get her going.

Ulma sat up, leaning forward as she dangled the smoking pipe from her hand. Her carefully plucked eyebrows arched. “Oh? An elf, hiring a human? How did you manage that?”

Slowly lifting his right hand, Jerran tilted his head, pausing as the sword pressed a little harder into his back. “Easy. Just want to show you something.” 

When Ulma nodded, the weapon eased up slightly.

Pushing aside the thick asymmetrically trimmed hair covering the back of his neck, Jerran waited. Neve’s breath slightly caught as she recognized the symbol – a crescent moon with stars lining its curve –  just behind his right ear, but she kept her mouth shut.

Ulma nodded toward the guard standing directly behind Jerran and he stepped closer, breathing heavily on Jerran for a few long moments. “He's got the Midnight Star mark, boss.” He held up four fingers.

Merchants often trembled at the name of the Midnight Stars, an infamous group that robbed caravans and unwary travelers throughout Thedas. Their jobs ranged from stealing to burning villages for the right amount of gold.

Members of the Midnight Stars earned stars through either defeating a member higher than them, or performing well in an extremely dangerous heist. The leader earned a second moon facing the first. The highest rank a member could earn was four stars.

Four stars dangled from the moon on Jerran’s neck.

The guard stepped back and slid his sword back into its scabbard. The others lining the room relaxed almost imperceptibly. 

Jerran straightened, letting the hair strands fall back into place. Ulma regarded him with a bit more interest.  “What’s a Midnight Star member doing with Neve Gallus? Must be unusual circumstances,” she said, taking a hit off of her pipe.

He smiled, but said nothing, letting her draw her own conclusions. 

Ulma watched the smoke curl in the air for a few moments. “Next shipment of slaves is tomorrow. Your little magister’s brat should be in it. Heard that he’ll fetch a good price. Lithe body and all. Tell your boss he owes me extra.”

Jerran nodded. “I’ll pass the message.” He jerked his head to Neve, who took the hint. 

Once back in the upper streets of Docktown, Neve turned to Jerran. “A Midnight Star member?”

“Former. Not proud of it.” Jerran took a deep breath, inhaling the salty tang. “Let’s go. We don’t have much time once word gets out.”

[jerzwriter]

It always starts somewhere...

This is my entry for Day one of @choicesjanuary2024 January Challenge. I hope you enjoy it!

Book: Crimes of Passion (post book 2) Pairing: Trystan Thorne x Carolina Rose Category: Fluff with a dash of angst Rating: Teen Words: 1,200 Summary: It's a tradition. A day Carolina always looks forward to, even if it's filled with bittersweet memories. But tonight, the tradition starts anew, with Trystan by her side.

Darkness had already enveloped the city as Carolina drew the curtains. Her face bright with anticipation, she gazed out her bedroom window onto the street below. There was only one thing on her mind as she mindlessly twirled the crystal flute of Chardonnay in her hand, nearly forgetting it was there. But the moment she remembered, she eagerly brought the glass to her lips, savoring the rich, oaky flavor as it swirled over her tongue, warming her more than the roaring fire ever could.

Despite the dipping temperature, she slipped off her cardigan and tossed it on a nearby chair. Eyes still focused on the freezing pavement, and she couldn't help but smile. This wasn’t the first time she had practiced this ritual; it was practically as old as she was, even its practices had been amended over the years. The ceramic mug her father bought for her when they saw Annie was no longer in her hand. The delicious aroma of the hot cocoa that had filled it was also gone, just like her father, who once sat at her side.  

The unwelcome visitor was drawing near. Sadness, reaching in and gripping her as it often did made her eyes flicker away, but she turned back with determination. No! Sadness and despair would not win today; not on a night as special as this. Her fingers traced the rim of the crystal chalice that her father had used years before. The only one she’d consider using today.

“Ves eso, Papi?” she whispered into the deafening silence. “Any moment now.”

He must have entered quietly, or perhaps she was too distracted to hear him because his breath was warm on her neck and his arms gently encircled her waist before she heard a sound. Then, she had to laugh. Was she even a detective after all?

“What will be any moment now?” Trystan whispered, brushing her hair to the side and placing gentle kisses on her freshly exposed skin. She leaned into him, a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding escaping her as she melted into his arms. Just like that, all was right with the world.

“Mi Vida,” she smiled. “This is a very important night.”

His eyes widened for a quick moment... concerned he had forgotten an important date. Then, his expression softened as he recalled the stormy forecast.

“That’s right,” he grinned. “The first snowfall of the year.”

“Mmm hmm,” she nodded. “More importantly, our first snowfall together.”

“I see you have your father’s wine glass,” he smiled. “And the curtains are drawn, so you have everything you need.”

She gently placed the glass on the table beside her and turned to face him; her eyes lingering on his moonlit features. “At least I do now." Her lips moved toward his, claiming them as her own in warm, comforting kiss.

“Mmm-mmmh,” he simpered before playfully pulling away. “Oh, no, Lina. No way. I’ve been waiting to participate in this ritual for some time, and I will not allow you seduce me away from it.”

She strolled toward the old mahogany sideboard with a chuckle. "Oh really," she said, pouring another glass for her love. A playful smirk tugged at her lips when she placed it in his hands. “Then you’ll need this... if you plan to do it right."

He nodded with approval upon taking a sip. “This is quite good; I suppose the seduction could wait.”

“How noble of you!” Carolina teased.

“But, of course! I am a prince, after all.”

Shaking her head with delight, she fell into his arms and and Trystan tried to determine if that sound of her laughter had become his favorite melody of all. It was undoubtedly in his top three, each spot now claimed solely by his Carolina. But his body tensed as he realized her laughter had turned to tears that dampened the crook of his neck. He clasped the sides of her face, worry weighing on his features.

“Hey, hey,” he whispered, gazing into her tear-filled eyes. “Are you all right? I thought this was a happy tradition?”

“It is,” she sniffled, wiping away her tears. “But it’s different now, and it’s my first time sharing it with you.”

“Is that OK?” he asked. “If you’d rather be alone...”

“No, no!” She grabbed his hand and held it against her heart. “I’ve done this alone for years now, ever since my father died. Honestly, I never thought I'd share this with anyone else again, but now... I can't wait to experience this with you by my side.”

He pulled a chair closer to the window so they could sit without missing a thing, then motioned for her to sit on his lap. “I’m glad to hear that,” he assured. “Because there is no place I’d rather be.”

“So, how does this work?” He asked, getting down to business. “Do we do anything special while we wait?”

“Nope, we just keep watch. Whoever spots the first snowflake has to yell, ‘Look, it’s a blizzard!’ and then we share a toast.”

“A blizzard?” Trystan chuckled. “Carolina, a flake of snow does not a blizzard make.”

“Of course not, but it is how each one begins. Everything has to start somewhere, and that’s what makes it so remarkable. We watch one single snowflake fall to the earth, so innocent, so insignificant on its own, but when we wake up tomorrow the city will be blanketed in snow, and you and I will know, that it all started with that one little flake we watched together.”

She could feel him swallow as he gently turning her chin his way. “Everything starts somewhere,” he whispered. “And we never know what beautiful places it might lead.”

The world fell into slow-motion as their lips came together. The familiar, sweet taste filling their sense as everything else fell into the shadows. He pulled her closer, as her fingers ran through his hair, and the rest of the world was lost.  Neither knew how long they stayed like that, but they couldn't forget Trystan's childlike gasp when he briefly opened his eyes.

“Look," he pointed with exasperation. "It’s a blizzard!” A solitary silver flake glistened in the streetlights as it slowly twirled down to the street below. They jumped to their feet, foreheads pressed against the cold glass, unwilling to miss a moment as it descended to the earth.

“It is! It’s a blizzard!” Carolina squealed, grabbing their wine glasses to propose a toast. “It’s our first snowflake, Trystan! The first snowflake has fallen, and with it, a new chapter begins.”

“To new beginnings,” he smiled, reaching out to caress her cheek one more time before they emptied their glasses. Side by side, they watched as more flakes fell, one by one, until a whispy, barely there sheet coated the sidewalks.

“You see, it’s happening!”

“It is," he smiled. "I dare say that we will wake to that blanket of snow tomorrow."

“We will,” she beamed. "But until then, I was thinking I'd like to get under the blankets with you. Are you in?"

Trystan took Carolina in one arm, as the other hastily pulled the drapes closed, a devilish glint in his eyes.

"I am so in," he smiled. "Look at us, sharing new things every day."

"Yep," she agreed. "One day this will all be old hat... we'll be some old couple boring those around us with stories of all the blizzards we've watched begin together. Hopefully, you won't grow tired of it by then."

"Are you kidding? Each snowflake is different, no snowstorm the same... and every day is a new discovery because I fall in love with every little thing you do."

A/N: Incorporated all 3 parts of @choicesjanuary2024 Day 1, though, I cheated and didn't use the sentence as the first line! Also participating in @choicesflashfics, prompt "I fall in love with every little thing you do."

@choicesficwriterscreations Tagging others separately.

[seaglassmelody]

Writing Challenge Weekend Weekday

So I like. Totally pulled this from an even older set of @thedissonantverses’ writing challenge prompts (I didn’t check the timestamp on the post OOPS oh well!) so this is actually from one of the April prompts but I like it so have it anyway!

Prompt is: Characters A and B are running through a forest/cave/castle/battlefield and get separated.

Aka Rook, Neve and Harding get separated in the Minrathous catacombs by some demons. It doesn’t go well.

(Used this as a way to get a handle on Tela’s voice and how it differs from Sabi’s. May continue it later depending on how I feel about resolving the tension at the end :) )

——

"Have I ever mentioned I hate it down here?"

The Minrathous catacombs were vast, cold, musty, and worst of all: wet.

Neve choked on a laugh. "Only about five times in the last ten minutes."

Tela rolled her eyes. "Well here's the sixth time: I hate it down here."

They were scouting for signs of demonic activity after realizing how much suffering Desperation was causing in Dock Town. Harding was walking ahead, navigating for them and purely focused on the task at hand.

"At least there's no Blight this time around." Neve replied tiredly. Her leg was beginning to ache from carrying the prosthetic all day and she was considering whether or not it was time to call it quits.

"If there were Blight we wouldn't be going in circles down here," Tela grumbled, "I'd pinpoint it like that." She snapped her fingers for emphasis, a little spark of lightning crackling around them.

"Awfully confident in your abilities, aren't you Trouble?" Neve smiled wryly.

Tela shrugged. "I think being a mage helps amplify the darkspawn sense, in a way. Still not as good at picking things out as Antoine though."

Neve was about to reply when she suddenly stopped short. "Where did Harding go?"

"She was just ahead of us wasn't she?" Tela also stopped moving, looking around sharply. "Harding?"

They stood still, listening to the moisture dripping from the ceiling of the caves. There was no response from the scout.

Tela called Harding's name a few more times, to no avail. Neve's eyes narrowed. "Does it feel colder in here to you?"

"It's probably just the stress reaction," Tela said dismissively, starting to move forward again, "We need to figure out where we saw her last."

Neve's breath was becoming a visible cloud in the air in front of her. "Rook, I think there might be-"

A sudden screech interrupted Neve mid-sentence as the despair demon descended upon them.

"That's what I was afraid of-!"

"Shit!" Tela cursed, whipping her staff off of her back. "Do you think it got a hold of Harding?"

"There could be more than one!" Neve replied, leaping away from the burst of ice the demon threw at her. She used her magic to ward off the projectiles that followed it, trying to maintain her balance on the suddenly icy floors.

"More than-" Tela started, then got cut off as she slipped, catching herself in a spin and jamming the butt of her staff into the cobblestones to slow her momentum. "Dammit, I hate these things!"

"Focus, Rook! We can't let it-"

Neve was cut off as she was thrown to the ground with a burst of cold air, her leg buckling. Her breath stuttered as she lay there getting her bearings, the ache in her leg now spreading from how she landed on it.

At least her prosthetic was undamaged. Dwarven crafting really was worth its weight in gold.

As she caught her breath, she realized she was surrounded by darkness.

"Rook…?"

You brought them here. They just wanted to help you. Help your city.

Oh great.

—

"Neve!" Tela shouted into the darkness, throwing down a wall of flames to block the orbs of ice floating her way.

You'll lose her to this. You'll lose them all. They're better off witho-

"Oh shut up already!" She shot a bolt of flame directly from her hand at the despair demon, as if to emphasize her annoyance with the situation.

Neve had been right. There was more than one.

That didn't make Tela feel any better. But it sure did make her angrier, and that anger was enough to stave off any sense of despair the demon was trying to cultivate.

"You and your whispers and your guilt-tripping, you guys have always been the worst of the lot!"

Tela breathed in deeply as she channeled her mana, reaching deep into her core and pulling a crackling line of lightning to strike directly into the demon's physical form.

Flames and lightning did not mix well with the icy source of Despair, and its form was beginning to waver. It briefly vanished from sight with a ear-piercing scream, taking the darkness with it.

Tela barely even processed her return to the catacombs, her entire being focused on destroying the demons that had attacked them- or at least the one that attacked her.

Shit, she still didn't know what happened to Harding. And who knows if the other one dragged Neve into its own pocket of Fade darkness.

She felt Despair's presence before it even reappeared, the sudden drop in temperature highly perceptible to her battle-trained senses. Before the creature even had a chance to react, she blasted it with five simultaneous jets of fire, aiming to scorch its very existence from this plane.

The demon screamed its last as its form was decimated, fading into a cloud of cold mist that sank into the floor.

"Go back to the hell you crawled out of." Tela spat on the spot where it disappeared.

She shouldered her staff and tried to get her bearings, scowling as she looked around. She recognized the area of the catacombs, but not from where they had traveled that day.

Of course it left her in a random part of the caves. Just her luck.

With a frustrated sigh, she took off down a nearby pathway- the one she was reasonably sure looped back around to where she had started. She tried hard not to worry about Harding and Neve being stuck somewhere alone with demons.

"Harding! Neve!"

Her voice echoed through the caves, bouncing off stone walls and reaching back around, distorting in her ears.

She pressed on, calling out a few more times and hoping there weren't any Venatori lurking about. She didn't sense any darkspawn at least, which was more of a relief than she could verbalize.

After what felt like an eternity, a voice called back to her from the distance.

"…ook? Rook!"

It was Harding.

Tela picked up her pace, pulse quickening. "Harding!”

A few shuffling footsteps and falling rocks later and Tela found herself face-to-face with the dwarven scout, dusty but no worse for wear.

"There you are! I turned around and you guys had just totally disappeared!" Harding gave her a once-over, breathing a small sigh of relief when she saw Tela was unharmed. "What happened? Where's Neve?"

"Got separated. Despair demons." Tela's voice was terse. The fact that Neve wasn't with Harding put her right back on edge.

"Oh no…" Harding chewed her lower lip. "That explains how I got cut off." As if able to sense Tela's tension, she reached out and gently took hold of Tela's arm. "Neve's a strong mage. She's fine, I'm sure."

Tela looked down at Harding for a moment, then nodded decisively. Neve was capable. Neve was resourceful. Neve wouldn't fall for a demon's tricks.

They just had to find out where it took her.

Luckily Harding's tracking skills were much stronger than Tela's own- if it wasn't darkspawn, Tela couldn't track a bear in fresh snow- so they made their way through the catacombs with much more certainty.

As they neared Tela and Neve's original position when the demons attacked, the air was perceptibly chillier.

Harding slowed to a stop. "Another demon?"

Tela shook her head, pushing Harding to keep moving. "Residual magic. Lot of ice. Neve put up a fight."

She took over the lead, cautiously navigating the walkway as it became more and more slick. Ahead, she could see the ground littered with icicles- and crouched in the center of the room was Neve.

"Oh Maker- Neve!"

At her exclamation, the detective's head shot up. "Trouble…?"

"Neve!"

Abandoning caution, Tela shot forward, using her fade step spells to cover ground faster before sliding to a halt next to Neve.

"Are you all right? Did you get hurt?"

Neve's quiet laugh should have been reassuring, but something about it sat wrong in Tela's mind.

"Ice is my specialty, Rook. I can handle a few icicles."

Tela reached out a hand to help Neve stand. "We both know those aren't the only weapons demons use."

"I can handle a few taunting whispers as well." Neve's voice was dry, trying for her usual wry delivery, but not quite succeeding. Something was definitely wrong.

Now wasn't the time to press the issue though.

"We need to get out of here before we all get spent."

Harding and Neve simply nodded in agreement, a testament to how harrowing the experience had been. Tela had half-expected Neve to want to keep pressing on, but clearly even she realized hunting down a creature they were too exhausted to kill was a fool's errand.

Harding thankfully had a strong memory for pathways and guided them to the closest door back to the streets of Dock Town.

The journey back to the Lighthouse was quiet, the atmosphere heavy. Harding tried to strike up a conversation but Neve was clearly lost in thought and Tela honestly didn't process a word of what the scout said, her attention entirely consumed with making sure Neve didn't get left behind.

No one was in the library when they entered from the eluvian room's staircase.

Neve wordlessly walked to the door, the unspoken understanding that she was going to rest in her study apparently assumed.

"I'm going to go see if I can find Taash. Maybe they'll get started on dinner a little early today." Harding bounded off towards the stairs, leaving Tela standing near the study table, her mind full of fuzz.

She wasn't sure what to do. Neve didn't seem to want to talk. She was still simmering with indignant anger at the tempting whispers of the despair demon. She knew her skills were needed and that her team was better off with her present. Sometimes she wondered, but she knew better than to allow those thoughts to fester.

It just irritated her even more that the damn thing had found them lurking in the shadows of her mind anyway.

She resolved to go find Davrin, maybe see if he'd be up for a spar or at least let her take Assan out for a jaunt in the Crossroads. Maybe after some exercise she could focus. Maybe after some time alone, Neve would be willing to talk. She just had to be patient.

[nerrels]

🍂 What was it like the first time Rook killed someone? How did they react afterwards?

Thanks again @queenmuzz for ask! Sorry it took me forever to answer!

If sentences will sound weird, I’m not native speaker. So, that's it!

Virida Aldwir:

When Virida was 16, she was hunting with her adoptive elf father, Varalan. They were chasing some ill and/or aggressive animal. Varalan was also teaching his daughter the importance of being quick and confident with her decisions while hunting. If she has any hesitation, it could lead to more pain or worse and put someone in danger.

They separated to find this animal. While Virida was searching, she noticed an unknown thin and pale elven girl running away from someone. That “someone” was human man. Young qunari followed them. When man cornered elf girl on break, screaming at her, Virida focused and make a shot. Few seconds, man fell into river. She grabbed girl’s hand and run away, looking for her father. Together they make sure no one searching for them and got home.

Meanwhile, in safety in her home, Virida was shaken, but not upset about the kill. After all, when her parents were killed by slave traders, she could be in same position as this girl.

Nailynn Thorne:

Nailynn was 22, living her peaceful life with her clan. She never thought of harming others, even with her magic. Elf will be soon become new Keeper of her clan, after all, who will protect them from any danger. One day, when she, her girlfriend and another friend were searching for lost animals deep in the forest, trio found them blighted and next to them darkspawns. Leader of darkspawns seems like more intelligent than others. In a fight, injured Nailynn and Leader were last standing. Eventually, elf burned darkspawn, but was weak by blighted blood in her.

Hour later, Nailynn was found by two grey wardens. One of them was human and another elf from their clan. They were investigated strange darkspawns but lost their track. Wardens decide to take her and others to Warden’s post nearby and gave them a chance, at least.

After Joining ritual and finding out none of her friends survived, young mage was crushed and devastated. She wished they just run away.

Teighan Ingellvar:

Tei was 18 with their first living kill as fresh Mourn Watcher. They was patrolling, when suddenly dwarf heard screams in on of Necropolis’s halls. Coming there, Teighan saw robbers threatening young MW students. Young Mourn Watcher ask them to leave this place and return everything they stole. She gave them 3 warnings but thieves ignore them. After few swings of their maul, none of the robbers were alive. Even the ones who asked for mercy.

Despite of saving their lives, students were a little disturbed by Tei’s quite demeanor like they don’t just killed bunch of people few minutes later.

original post Woe! Rook ask game be upon ye! - link

[nursal1060writes]

Summary:

Tamlin has been tortured and imprisoned while Feyre is performing her trials.

Rhysand sneaks off to see the High Lord who has fallen so low - and reminisce about who they used to be.

[tessa-liam]

Boys Will Be Boys

Brothers-in-Arms Series - Chapter 2

Choices Books: The Royal Romance, pre-book 1 (cross-over with Choices, Crimes of Passion, pre-book 1)  

Pairing: None  

Characters: Liam Rys, Drake Walker, Maxwell Beaumont, Leo Rys, Olivia Nevrakis, Eleanor Rys, Trystan Thorne  

Rating: Teen  

Warning: swearing, alcohol/drug use

Category: angst/fluff, alternate universe  

Words: 1200, not Beta’d, please excuse all errors  

Brothers-in-Arms Masterlist

A/N: My submission for #choices bejeweled, June monthly challenge 2025

Summary: Liam, Drake, Maxwell, Leo, and Trystan are at the Royal Mountain Retreat in the Blackspine Mountains of Cordonia. The firepit is crackling, s'mores are toasting , and ... the discussion turns to ???

Trystan snorted like he’d just heard the dumbest thing in royal history. “Wait, you didn’t even kiss her?” 

“No, Sherlock.” 

Trystan looked at him like he’d just confessed to a crime. “Are you broken?” 

Leo sighed dramatically, running his fingers through hair. “It just didn’t feel right.” 

“What does that even mean? Did she have spinach in her teeth? Were you under surveillance by your dead relative?” 

Leo groaned. “I mean emotionally, you emotionally stunted goat. I actually want to get to know her first.” 

Trystan blinked. “Since when do you feel things?” 

Leo glanced at Liam and the middle-school brigade (aka Liam, Drake, and Maxwell), who were busy arguing over whether dragons or space pirates would win in a fight. 

“Let’s move this convo. I can’t have my twelve-year-old brother psychoanalyzing me again.” 

They walked quickly to the lake, not forgetting their beers, and flopped onto a bench. 

Trystan: “So, spill. You like her, but you didn’t kiss her because... you have morals now?” 

Leo: “I just want it to mean something. She’s not like the girls who throw themselves at every bloody event.” 

Trystan smirked. “Let me guess. It’s because of Madeleine.” 

Leo punched him—not hard - but with enough force to make a statement. 

“Ow! Dude! I need that arm for fencing and styling my hair!” 

Leo grinned. “Would you prefer a push into the lake? It’s about six degrees Celsius in there.” 

Trystan massaged his arm, still offended. “You Cordonians are violent.” 

Leo wiggled his eyebrows. “Okay, enough about me. Spill it—who’s your secret admirer?” 

Trystan sighed dramatically. “Her name’s Julianna. We’ve been friends for years, but lately… she’s gotten… interesting.” 

Leo looked amused. “Like, ‘I suddenly noticed she’s 'hot’ interesting, or ‘she no longer chews with her mouth open’ interesting?” 

Trystan laughed. “Both. She’s shy, which is weirdly adorable. Like a kitten that punches you in the heart.” 

Leo smirked. “That doesn’t sound like your type. You usually like the loud, terrifying ones.” 

“I know! But I want to take care of her, you know? Like... be the guy who shows her how to have fun.” 

Leo gave a smug grin. “Oh, I bet you want to show her lots of fun.” 

Trystan punched him back. “Don’t make me drown you, Romeo.” 

Leo: “So? Is it happening? Are you two gonna ride off into the hormonal sunset?” 

Trystan: “Maybe. Depends on what she wants. I’ve waited this long. I can wait a little longer.” 

Leo: “Patience. How royal of you.” 

They headed back to the firepit, where Liam, Drake, and Maxwell were still deep in their existential debate. 

Leo: “You guys ready to head to the cottage? It’s past your royal bedtimes.” 

Liam, brushing dirt off his pants and stood up, “Yeah. I gotta prep for tomorrow.” 

As Liam walked off, Maxwell leaned in to Drake. “Hey, Li never answered your question.” 

“Yeah, and now he’s gone, and I still don’t know what happened to the crown!” Drake looked agitated. 

Maxwell grinned wickedly. “Dude. You seriously don’t remember?” 

Drake looked like he was already regretting his life choices. “No. Should I?” 

Maxwell burst into laughter, trying to suppress it and failing spectacularly. He collapsed onto the ground in a heap of giggles. 

Drake groaned. “Why do you always do this? Can’t you just tell me what happened?” 

Maxwell tried to look innocent. “What? You mean now?” 

“Yes, now!” 

Maxwell shrugged. “Nah. It’s more fun this way.” 

Drake stomped off. “I hate you.” 

“Love you too, buddy!” Maxwell called after him, still giggling.

Inside the Cottage – Later That Night

The royal mountain cottage was rustic-chic mixed with royal finery —stone fireplace crackling, oversized velvet couches, and expensive portraits and accessories.

Leo flopped dramatically onto a couch, nearly knocking over a tray of imported herbal teas. Trystan settled into the armchair with a grunt and a handful of shortbread cookies, which he had clearly stolen from a diplomatic gift basket. 

“I’m serious,” Leo said suddenly, turning to him with a look that was one part scheming and two parts big-brother mischief. “Next time we’re in Paris… I’m going to make a man out of Liam.” 

Trystan choked on his cookie. “What?!” he coughed. “What does that even mean? You’re not sending him to the Foreign Legion!” 

Leo grinned. “No! I mean, like… take him out. Show him the world. Teach him the arts of charm, confidence, maybe get him a nice haircut that doesn’t look like it was done with a medieval sword.” 

Trystan raised an eyebrow. “So… your plan is to drag a twelve-year-old around Paris and sprinkle him with cologne until women swoon?” 

Leo shrugged. “Exactly.” 

“Leo, you do realize Paris is full of croissants and chaos. Liam’s idea of a good time is still building Lego castles and quoting Star Wars.” 

“Which is exactly why he needs me. Paris will change him.” 

“Into what? A pretentious art critic with a beret and a heartbreak playlist?” 

Leo leaned back smugly. “Into a gentleman. A Casanova. A future king who knows how to hold a wine glass and a conversation.” 

Trystan shook his head, laughing. “You’re unbelievable.” 

Leo wagged a finger. “Unbelievably effective.” 

"Wait ... wait ... a future king? Trystan looks at Leo.

Just then, a loud thud echoed from upstairs, followed by Maxwell’s voice yelling, “Drake! I swear if you farted in my room again, I will smother you with a decorative pillow!” 

Trystan looked toward the ceiling. “Yeah. Definitely ready for Paris.” 

Leo grinned. “Not those two, just my Prince Mini-Me.” 

☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆

☆ @choicesficwriterscreations

☆ @choicesmonthlychallenge

☆ @choicescommunityevents

● my perma-tags: @beau1811 @bascmve01 @twinkleallnight @dutifullynuttywitch @lovingchoices14 @alj4890 @busywoman @bardic-tales @kingliam2019 @malblk21 @delmissesryanandcassi @selina012 @differenttyphoonwerewolf

●Brothers-in-Arms @walkerdrakewalker

[im-sleepingbeauty]

controversial opinion but an argument can be made for elain archeron is the muse for taylor swift’s “the bolter”

[theblackphoenixwritings]

-𝙒𝙝𝙮?- -𝙈𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙪𝙨 & 𝙏𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙣𝙚

The crackling of the fire in the fireplace had been the only company Marius had longed for during that long and busy week.A curious contrast that of the noise of the fire, almost cheerful, with the silence of the snow falling outside, enveloping everything for several days now. That isolation was born out of his loyalty to his duty. He could not regret setting it aside for, he had to admit to himself, quite some time. That time had been filled by love and tenderness, by being close again to those he loved. It had been an intense and happy few weeks, Armand remaining always by his side, proud and devoted, his eyes full of love, Daniel who like Armand, never left Marius and was always there ready to offer his support and love. Thorne who despite being at least as busy as Marius, always found time to go to Marius to spend time together. And Lestat and Avicus, dear Zenobia, and Teskhamen.Marius had finally felt at peace and though he feared even to utter, within himself that word, happy.

Now the clutter in that room was a testament to his stubbornness, there were too many matters that had been left unfinished, too many things unfinished or to be corrected, and it was his specific duty to remedy and set things right. The desk was buried with pages and pages, written in elegant handwriting, open and closed books arranged one on top of the other, there were also ancient scrolls, photos and reports, documents about the activities of the immortals, law requests and drafts to be checked and finished, even complaints and stories and testimonies collected in order to give more attention to problems that might arise among the immortals. On the majestic ruby-red carpet that reached from the foot of the desk to the large bed, were scattered sketch pads, and sheets with barely drawn drafts, others finished, pencils and brushes, oil pastels and canvas boards. There was also the design of the large mural to be finished and checked, and it had to be harmonious throughout, it had to remember their history and their protagonists and pass it on.

All those studies were important and needed to be created with care and attention and then be supportive of the final project. Marius observed that confusion and sighed, resting his face in his hands. As his thoughts followed that chaos unable to make sense of how he had managed to create such a mess, gentle but firm knocks made themselves heard at his door. After a moment Thorne's gentle face peeped out, Marius smiled happily, leaning against the back of the large carved fine wooden stool, and with a wave of his hand invited his best friend in. He was always happy to see and talk with Thorne, was glad to see that he was well after recent events, glad in a way Marius could not give words to.

He knew, however, that Thorne, more than anyone else had made Marius' words his own, and between them it was often no longer necessary to use them. They understood each other with their look at each other, their friendship had become a deep and unbreakable bond. "Are you well? Do you need anything?" asked Marius as Thorne sat down in front of him. " It's strange I had come here, just to ask you these very questions. You are greatly missed." replied Thorne, settling into the red velvet armchair.

"I know I've beennot much present lately, but all this mess, it must lead me to put things in perspective and be able to support this court in every way. I have been putting this off and now I have to put it in order. You are always in my thoughts, even if I am not there with you." Marius knew that might sound like a weak excuse, but Thorne was as devoted to that family as Marius was and knew well that some things took time and detachment. " I just wish you would remember that you are no longer alone. We're here if you need a hand. And certainly we are not senators from ancient Rome, but we are here for you, and you know how precious you are to us. What I mean is that you can lean on me as well as Daniel and Armand and all the others who love you. Remember that you can share any burden or thought with us." Thorne, wanted Marius to be ready to accept that those who loved him were ready to be his support; he was no longer alone.

" Well it seems that even these gods, in whom I do not believe, somehow blessed me. Who knows maybe it was just your Thor." said Marius, with bright eyes and a gentle smile. " Why?" asked Thorne puzzled. He did not see what the gods could have to do with his words. " Because he has given me a friend who has the heart to listen to me when I speak, to see me when I am dejected, to walk by my side when I go astray, to show me the way with his presence, for the gift of his presence and his love. For I have found a friend and a brother, for I have never had one in my immortality, not so close to my heart, not so pure and strong in his friendship toward me." It was Thorne's turn to smile and have his eyes glaze over. " Whether this is because of the gods or a higher will, it matters little, but my will to stand by your side is unchanged and ever faithful."

[clone-wars-winter-challenge]

Another week, another "what clone am I thinking of?" Here is your hints:

This clone loves a good time and is always down to try something new. He is known to get into trouble from time to time because he almost never says no to a new adventure. So when you tell him about ice skating, at night, in the park under Christmas lights while snowing... It sounds like a disaster waiting to happen but it's also the best time of your lives doing something new together. (Even if he does break his leg while trying to do a triple axle spin 🤦🏽‍♀️)

[dravidious]

You're more amazing than difficult philosophical questions

I heard somewhere that X-1 is one of the hardest X missions in UtK1, and having just beaten X-2 on my second try with no particular strategy, I think that's probably accurate.

Also, using healing touch in UtK1 is supposed to give you an automatic C-rank, but I got a B-rank in X-2 even tho I used healing touch. Turns out that fandom wikis are indeed full of lies.