#thrall of the hill

[herosneednotapply]

Continued from here

The scream sounded truly agonizing. Addie could feel its vibration in her teeth as a dull ache settled in her bones. The taste of iron and flesh set heavy on her tongue. The all too familiar smell of smoke on the wind. This was so far removed from the little town's normal night of dreaming minds and restless bodies. That otherworldy sense of awareness that never let her have a moment notified her she was not alone. Dark eyes shifted back into focus and settled on a man smoking on the front porch of the house. Too immersed in deciphering his nightmares to notice her.

Addie could be gone without a sound. Halfway up the road before he lifted his head. But...his dreams spoke of suffering she never thought possible outside of battlefields and torture chambers. And for the first time in a long time, she needed to know why. She shifted her feet making noise as she turned to look as if she had been walking. Plastering a friendly look on her face as she approached.

"Scuse me, sugar. I don't mean to be nosey but are you ok? I heard screamin and got worried. Should I get some help?"

[herosneednotapply]

The sleepy little town was one of the few places that was actually silent like its name. Other than the occasional rumbling of the earth as if it was actually alive. But the sound of fitful slumber tore through her mind like a knife through flesh. Causing Addie to sit up in bed confused as she checked her surroundings. It was like a siren song of pain that had her exiting the hotel and wandering the streets until she reached a home just outside the city limits. There was so much pain here...like grasping fingers luring her in. Addie wondered if she could soothe the fretful mind from her or if she would have to trespass.

open to all - lucas - any connections welcome [pre-silent hill verse]

“No-no,” little whimpered past the judge’s lips. The nightmares had been getting worse; more violent and dark. What the spirits were asking of him was impossible at best. Fire and plague would eat away at his peaceful town; his role was little more than a loyal pet. His heart raced as he tried to force himself into a conscious state, unaware how much his voice was echoing in his humble apartment.

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[brooklynislandgirl]

@thrall-of-the-hill​

Beth had thought when she’d first moved to Maine that a change of scenery would do her good. She couldn’t stand the idea of going home, not when the last half of her life had been spent on the mainland, but she couldn’t stay in Brooklyn, either. Too much of the apartment held memories. The ghost of her brother was everywhere and if she had any hope of recovering from his death, she needed something new. Haven was the town she’d chosen. Partly because of the name. Partly because it was a seaside place. Partly because they could use the skills of a nurse-practitioner. She’d settled in just fine. Bought a little office just off the thoroughfare, and then a modest house on a cliff overlooking the ocean. She hadn’t yet made many friends but she did have patients. She keeps to herself knowing that malakini were not always welcome and it takes time to stop being the ‘new guy’. She continued to show up at her office, even hiring a receptionist-front office girl. And maybe she should have suspected something when she’d gotten the mysterious phone call. A voice she didn’t recognise nor pick out many details about, though she is sure it was a man. The message requested her aid because the town didn’t have their own doctor and this late in the year sometimes the roads could be problematic. She should have known better. She shouldn’t be here. Walking down the road in the dark and the cold, with her rental car stalled two miles back on County Road 73.  But she is. A Duffle bag with some of her clothing and other things inside over one shoulder, her old-fashioned doctor’s case in one hand, and a flashlight that seemed to have funny ideas about ‘strong and steady’ light in the other. At least she’d dressed warmly in uncharacteristic jeans, sensible hiking boots, layers of t-shirt, turtleneck, and fleece lined jacket with a hood. She hates the dark, has a bone-deep fear of it, and now, after an hour, she has to admit, she has no idea if she’s even in Silent Hill, or just hopelessly lost on a wooded back road. Frustrated, she drops down into a crouch. Balances on the balls of her toes and closes her eyes. Her voice is far louder than it normally is.  “C’mon already!” she shouts to exactly no one. “Can ya gimmie a sign I’m supposed to be here?!”

[yuesya]

The chains dissolve.

But the bird has no time to dwell upon its sudden freedom from the water-chains that the Lord of the Vortex had bound it and its new master with. Above them, the Lord of the Vortex thrashes and roars. The deafening sound rings in the bird’s ears, rattling its bones and turning its blood into ice.

Even so, the bird does not allow itself to remain still. It does not require a verbalized directive to automatically dive towards its new master, reflexively shielding them from the torrential wave of Hydro that sweeps over them both. The young god’s Anemo energy flickers dangerously as it wanes, and the bird acts to shield its master.

In the next moment, both of them are drenched in the divine serpent’s blood, buried beneath the heavy outpouring of red-violet blood cascading down from the raw, glistening wound on the Lord of the Vortex’s open neck.

… Beheaded.

The new master had just beheaded Osial, the Lord of the Vortex. A feat that no other god had accomplished before her. The young god had cut off one of the divine serpent’s six heads with nothing more than a mundane mortal blade, even, and that was–

Unthinkable, in many ways, for many reasons. And yet it was undeniable; the bird has just witnessed this with its very own eyes, and there is no refuting the current reality.

Around them, Hydro energy rages relentlessly, spurred on by the pain and fury of the Lord of the Vortex.

… The Hydro god’s decapitated head had dissolved the moment it touched the ground. And in the very same instant the bird had felt a foreboding chill–

For the Lord of the Vortex’s head had brought forth upon the surface world the dreadful currents of the deep. 

The results of such a thing are… disastrous, catastrophic. Rolling hills and grassy earth disappear rapidly beneath churning waves that rise ever higher with each passing moment of the Lord of the Vortex’s unbridled wrath, landmarks sinking entirely under the growing flood. 

The bird does not know the fate of the humans who had escaped the catastrophe of battling gods earlier, but… looking at this now, there is no doubt that the living creatures of this land have been pulled down into a watery grave.

… And above them, there is still Hydro-infused rain thundering down from the heavens.

…

The unnatural flood and rain… all of it is being amplified by the Hydro god’s blood, exacerbated by the corrupted divine essence that continuously pours into their surroundings even now.

It is all the bird can do to maintain a pitiful Anemo barrier, desperately shielding its new master behind it. Because even though the master had beheaded one of the Lord of the Vortex’s six heads, they had not raised any barrier to protect themselves from the aftermath –and there is precious little Anemo energy that the bird, a creature of Anemo itself, can sense from the young god.

The master cannot fall here.

The bird does not know why this thought occurs to it, but nonetheless it realizes–

“Are you protecting me?”

It’s less a question and more of an observation that falls from the young god’s lips. But there’s nothing derisive in her words. Rather, if anything, it sounds as if she is almost… perplexed.

The bird doesn’t understand.

“Yes,” it responds to the god anyways.

“… Don’t do that.” A soft sigh. “You’re draining yourself of all your Anemo energy with this barrier, and it’s killing you. Stop it. It’s unnecessary.”

“But–”

“I’m not that easy to kill. And even if I die, then it simply means I wasn’t strong enough,” the god shakes her head. “So stop this already. I don’t need or want anyone to die for me.”

… What?

The bird blinks, uncomprehending and at a complete loss as to what its new master means. When it had been chained in service to the Mistress of Dreams, the god had been very clear that all its thralls only existed to serve and carry out her will. To bleed in her name and lay their corpses upon her altar in faithful reverence at her command, for she was their god–

“… I don’t understand,” the bird whispers. “Master–”

“I’m not your master,” the girl-god tells him.

The bird… doesn’t understand.

“You don’t understand, do you?” the young god tilts her head. “Well. I don’t understand you, either. Why are you even still here?”

The bird is a weapon and a tool that belongs to its master. Where else would it go?

I’m not your master.

But–

“You should run, before it’s too late.” The young god turns her gaze upwards, towards where the howling bestial form of a monstrous serpent can be seen. Above the watery depths that they have been buried under, there is a distorted dark mirage floating above the crushing waves. The Lord of the Vortex. “The fight isn’t over yet. Not until I’ve cut off all five of the sea snake’s remaining heads.”

The bird stares at its god, who speaks these startling words so serenely. As if she is still in any shape to continue fighting, when even the bird can already sense that there is only a fragment of Anemo energy remaining in her body–

But she is still holding her sword.

… A simple, undecorated sword. One of mortal steel, yet somehow has, through an unknown turn of fate, come to be wielded in the hands of a fierce god.

The white-haired god steps forward, head lifted upwards, slashing high–

And following the line of her sword, the churning waves pressing down on them part instantly, forming a path that points directly to the Lord of the Vortex.

“Foolhardy little god. You dare challenge Osial of the Deep, upon the very waters that I command?”

The rising flood and relentless rain threatens to drown out the entire world around them. The bird can feel the way that its heart beats a panicked rhythm inside its chest, but–

“Your little rain means nothing to me,” the girl-god says, leveling her blade and preparing to strike. “Even like this, I am still a God of Storms.”

[animatorweirdo]

From the Shadows

You were expecting your baby's arrival, but then your friends decided it would be good for you to get out of the house and hike in the mountains with them. One incident of a missing friend somehow magically sends you to another place and not a good one. You end up as a thrall in a place called Angband, so now you take it upon yourself to find a way to escape before something happens to your baby. Luckily, you are not completely alone and find companionship with another thrall, an elf named Maedhros. Will you succeed in escaping? Or will things turn out badly for you and your unborn child?

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, an ex-boyfriend who ran away, dealing with pregnancy alone, falling, violence, Angband, becoming a thrall, lying, suspicious food and water, paranoia, dead characters, escape, a complicated birth, some fluff moments, losing a hand, blood, explosions, cold, and angst.

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- Life has been a bit of a bitch to you. You had successfully finished high school, and college, and got the necessary degrees for the job you wanted. You had secured a job and were well off. It was just your unfortunate pregnancy. Ever since that cowardly ex-boyfriend of yours from college ditched you when you found out you were pregnant and left you to deal with it alone, you had not the easiest time. 

- Despite the circumstances and your emotional state, you decided to keep the baby and luckily your friends and family had been supportive of your decision. They helped you continue with your life and helped you get things good and ready for the baby. The boss who sent you the job offer when you were still in college was understanding and offered a job you could do online since it could cause some risks if you started your work as a graduated chemist while pregnant. 

- Things had become better during those months, but now that your belly was bulging and your due date was near, you had been feeling anxious and restless. It could be pregnancy hormones, but they did not help relieve all the heavy stuff on your mind. 

- You felt many things, mostly regret. You were happy that you decided to keep your baby, but you regretted some of your past mistakes, especially dating your baby’s father, who turned out to be a sorry excuse for a human being. 

- You had not even decided what to do with the baby when you told him. You wanted his input first, but then he just stood up and left without a word. Even though it had been months you still felt pissed off by his act. 

- When your moods didn't improve and your friends took notice, they decided it might be a good idea to go out and hike. Have a little adventure and fresh air, rather than being stuck in the house. 

- You were not excited by the idea but when your parents pushed you to do it, you agreed and they arranged most of the things for the trip. 

- You all went hiking in this well-known mountain place that held many stories. You were not excited about walking up to the hills and mountains, but you did not deny that it helped take your mind off the past and the view from there was lovely. 

- At the top where you could see the vast woods and the city in the distance, the air felt nice and you even imagined taking these kinds of trips with your little girl when she was born, learning to go out once in a while and appreciate nature was not a bad thing. 

- But then the trouble started when your friends wanted to check out one of the caves. They held a lot of stories and the guides warned you not to go in them because some people had known to go missing there and never come back. 

- You thought you would just check it out and continue with your hike, but then your friend decided it would be a good idea to go inside. 

- You rejected the idea and then watched as your friend went inside, yelling stuff from within the cave. You tried to tell her to come back, but then you and your other friend heard her scream and a sound that sounded like she had fallen. 

- When she didn't respond, your other friend called for help while you went to check what had happened. You went into the cave and called out to your friend but no response. You found a steep fall at the end and a pit that led to darkness. You feared the worst and called out to your other friend. But then, at that moment, you felt a powerful wind behind you, making you trip and slide down the steep while screaming to your other friend. 

- You tried to slow down your fall as you fell into the darkness. You used your hands, but unfortunately, the sharp stone and gravy cut through your gloves, cutting and bruising your hand. 

- Your fall came to an abrupt stop when you felt ground beneath your shoes and stumbled forward. Luckily, you were quick enough to stop yourself from falling on your stomach. 

- Your hands were in pain from the fall, and now you were alone in the darkened cave, far away from the cave entrance. You felt strange as you could not see the top but you were able to hear your other friend's voice. You called out to her and then tried to look for your friend who fell, who was nowhere in sight. 

- You tried to call out to her, your voice echoing through the cavern, but there was no response. It was like your friend was never there. 

- Anxious but worried, you tried to check one of the tunnels. It was dark, too dark for your human eye to see properly. 

- You continued calling out your friend’s name, but there was still no response. The darkness and the absence of another human being’s presence caused you to feel paranoid. How could a whole human fall and then disappear into thin air? 

- You were certain, you and your other friend heard her scream and fall. 

- The whole cavern system began to feel like one big labyrinth, but then you found something on the ground. It was your friend’s scarf. You felt some relief from finding her stuff, but now you worried that something had happened to her. 

- A bad feeling crept into your skin when your ears caught sounds that could only be described as whispers. You were not able to understand them, but they caused you to feel immense fear and paranoia. When you heard something move in the shadows, you quickly hid yourself in a small corner, and then waited for something to appear. 

- You did not expect a scaly hand to appear from behind your head, silence your frightened mouth, and then pull you into the darkness. 

- Your flight and fight instincts kicked in and you tried to struggle as much as you could, but then more hands appeared and forced you to move. You couldn't see anything, but then you felt a harsh strike on the back of your head and you lost consciousness. 

- The next time you woke up, you found yourself in a room with creatures straight out of horror stories. You quickly slapped your hand against your mouth to avoid alerting them and stared at them with fear as they seemed to be fighting for the possession of your outer clothes they had taken from you. Luckily, you were still dressed in your usual clothes so you were not concerned that they had done something to you while unconscious. 

- There was a sharp pain in the back of your head, but quietly, you stood up and avoided alerting the ugly creatures that you were awake. 

- You saw the door and decided to go for it. You stayed as quiet as possible as you walked toward the door, keeping your eyes on the creatures, you could only guess to be orcs. After reaching the door, you quietly sneaked out and dashed through the corridors. 

- You quietly stepped through the corridors and then hid when you heard more of them come running. You sneaked around and then took in the surroundings. You nearly couldn’t believe your eyes. It was some kind of underground fortress, straight out of some kind of dark fantasy book. 

- But before you could react, you were caught by a bigger and nastier-looking orc. He then dragged you back to the previous orcs and told them to throw you into the cell since they were unable to watch you. 

- They harshly grabbed you and began leading you to what seemed to be dungeons. They threw insults and for some reason called you 'a round-eared elf’. 

- You were then thrown into some kind of cell. It smelled awful and you were certain there was a rotting corpse in the corner. You quivered and hid in a corner, trying to control your tears and panic. 

- You cried for perhaps a minute or two but slowly managed to calm yourself and recollect your thoughts. You looked around the cell and tried to make sense of your situation. It was hard as none of it made any sense, and you knew you were not dreaming, even though you hoped this was just an awful nightmare.

- You came to the cell door and saw the corridor and many more cells. You then heard sounds coming from the cell beside yours. 

- There was a small hole in the wall and you saw another person through it. It was hard to see but it seemed to be a man with long red hair. He didn't look well. He seemed malnourished and there were some bruises on him, but he appeared conscious enough to talk with you and you hoped for some answers. 

- "Hey, carrot top.." you called out silently. He looked around before his eyes looked toward you. His eyes had an odd glow in them, but you brushed that thought away and concerned yourself with getting some answers. 

- You tried asking about the place and what was happening, but he only advised you to remain quiet since the orcs did not allow much talking among the thralls. 

- He seemed baffled when you shared you had no idea where you were. You then explained you were looking for your friend and got caught by the orcs. The man was then kind enough to answer your questions and you learned about Angband and elves. 

- You felt shocked and figured you somehow managed to travel to another world. There was no denying it since you were not dreaming.  Now the orc’s comment about you being a round-eared elf also made more sense. 

- The red-haired guy was an elf himself and he softly advised you not to get yourself in trouble, because it might end badly for you. You only felt dread at the thought. There was no doubt that these orcs were violent, and would do horrible things to you and your baby.

- There also seemed to be not a single human around. If they were to learn that you were not an elf, then that could cause unwanted attention on you.

- You questioned the elf if there was a possible way out. 

- He explained you two were deep in the earth and the main entrance was heavily guarded by orcs and creatures alike. Escape was nearly impossible. 

- You crossed the main entrance away from the list and questioned if there were other possible ways out since you did not come through the main entrance. 

- He shared he had heard about other tunnels but had no idea where they could be. He was too guarded to have allowed a chance to look for them. You nearly felt pity for the guy, he seemed pessimistic and lost of all hope. 

- You told him that you were pregnant and that there was no way you would allow your daughter to be born in a place like this. He seemed saddened by your reveal and told you that you should play nice and perhaps the orcs won’t be cruel to you and your child. 

- You had no idea how long you had been in that cell, but eventually, you were taken out by an orc and taken to a room with other people. You saw that they were women and that they were pregnant as well. You only felt more dread because they were singling you out for something. 

- You were then told to start working on stitching and clothing. You had some basic knowledge of fixing clothes, so you started working and tried to get more answers in the meantime. 

- You talked with an elven woman, named Siriel, who seemed six months due. She was a pleasant person and answered some of your questions. She said that if you agreed to give your child away to them, they would get better treatment and be safe from the cruelty of your masters.

- The idea did not appeal to you in any way. You did not wait for your daughter’s arrival just to give her away to some monsters. There was also a high chance your captors were lying about the whole thing. 

- You received some questions about your ears and why they were round. You quickly lied that you were born that way and played it off as a deformity. They seemed convinced and even the orcs guards lost their interest in you.

- You felt relieved since it would play in your favor. If you did not make yourself appear different from the other thralls, then your captors would likely pay less attention to you. 

- After working atrocious hours in clothing, you were given some food and returned to your cells. You did not really trust the food, picking out the bad parts away and carefully sipping the water.

- You had managed to memorize most of the corridors and paths to the work room, but you would need to see more to start planning. 

- You investigated the cell avoiding the dead carcass, bones, and sharp rocks that could prick your feet. There was almost nothing of use, but you found a rock you could sharpen on the edges and use as a weapon in your time of need. The orcs used swords and clubs, but they would definitely not expect someone to use a primitive weapon like a sharpened rock. 

- You were startled when you heard orcs bring the red-haired elf back to his cell. It was loud and when the orcs left, you looked through the hole and saw him in a rough shape. He had new bruises and cuts that were still bleeding. When you remembered him mentioning that he was heavily guarded, you figured he was an important prisoner and thus he was tortured for something. 

- You offered him a piece of clothing and water for his wounds. He tried to reject your offer, but you managed to convince him that if he cleaned his wounds with something, he might avoid suffering from an infection. 

- You two stayed near the hole, passing items through the hole. He was reluctant by the exchange, but you advised him to pass the items back when the guards came to do their rounds.

- He was the only one you could talk to and you preferred to have some sanity by having some companionship. 

- You asked very little of what they did to him and offered some words of comfort. You eventually managed to convince him to share his name with you, which used to be Nelyafinwe, now changed to Maedhros. 

- He tried to discourage you from talking to him because he was a hostage, and having some connection with him could cause you and your baby harm, and he did not wish that upon you. 

- You assured him that you would be careful. He shared a bit more info about the dark lord and his servants, telling you who to avoid. You put them on a note in your mind. 

- And for a long time, you were forced to work with other pregnant women. You gathered information while trying to avoid being too suspicious. You gave some things to Maedhros in your cell, who continued trying to convince you to take the food since you were expecting, but you did not trust the food. They could hold bacteria or other things that could cause harm to your child. You even went as far as to try to filter the water through a piece of clothing you managed to snatch. 

- One good thing you couldn't figure out was that no one had seen or heard about another round-eared elf in the fortress. It could mean your friend was either safe in your world or that she was somewhere out of your reach. You decided to believe the first deduction. 

- During your free time in your cell, you would talk with Maedhros and sharpen the stone. Talking to him about random things helped you retain some sanity and sometimes you offered words of comfort when he came back from another torture. 

- One day, when you had fully memorized the guard schedule and become familiar enough with the other pregnant women to stay quiet about your activities, you took the risk to leave the room and look for the rumored tunnels. 

- You dressed yourself like the servants you had seen passing by, hiding your belly and successfully passing the orcs without suspicion. You finally had the chance to memorize more paths and corridors, figuring out the locations of mines and other things. 

- You caught the scent of sulfur in the mines so you figured the fortress was under volcanoes. 

- The place was more horrid the more you learned about it. However, when you deemed it was time to return, you went back and waited for another chance. 

- You successfully investigated the fortress three times but made sure to wait to avoid suspicion. 

- You shared your findings with Maedhros, who seemed horrified and concerned for your safety, trying to convince you not to go too far or you might suffer punishments. 

- You assured him you were careful and that Siriel kept your secret. You just had to find one tunnel. 

- One day, you succeeded in finding an entrance to the secret tunnels. You took one of the candles and went exploring putting your mind on the time so that you would not be noticed. 

- You found a cave that was secluded and had a small pond with dripping pure water. You knew some underground places possessed pure water pockets, so you took the chance and drank to your heart’s content.

- The water had a salty and mineralistic taste, but it was better than the water served by the orcs. 

- And finally, came the day when you memorized most of the cavern paths and found a way out. You could have taken the chance to escape on your own but decided that since you were no longer in your world, you would need someone to help you navigate, so you started planning an escape with Maedhros and Siriel.

- Unfortunately, the plan to take Siriel with you was put on uphold when you noticed she was nowhere to be found and no longer came to work at your work place. You tried to question other women about it, and they shared that she was taken away and hadn’t returned since. It caused you to feel suspicion and worry. She was only six months pregnant, so it would have been too early for her to go into labor, so why was she taken away? 

- Well, you got your answer on her fate when you found her body lying in the pits where the orcs dumped the dead thralls. Her once bright eyes devoid of any life and her stomach was torn open. It was a sickening sight. 

- The orc guard who had the job to watch over you and the other pregnant women then said something that gave you a hint on why Siriel was dead. He faked sympathy and revealed that if one of you behaved well, she would not have been dead. It nearly made your blood freeze when you realized that someone was on to you and your secret activities. 

- The orc then said that he felt some pity for you and the other women and offered help to get you out of Angband. You knew he was faking pity, and Siriel’s fate wanted you to strike his head down to a pulp, but you saw the chance and took it, faking gratitude and agreeing to the plan. 

- The orc then secretly gave you a key to your cell and you took it to safekeeping. 

- You shared what had happened with Maedhros and he shared his sympathies. You wanted to cry for Siriel since she was a kind soul, but since the situation was dire, you needed to put your escape plan into action sooner than planned. You could mourn for her once you were out of that hell hole. 

- You had memorized the schedule of Maedhros’s guards and when he would be taken away for another torture. When the chance came, you sneaked out and struck the orc in the head with your sharp stone. You took the keys to your elven friend’s cell and opened it. 

- Maedhros was shocked to see you free and opening his shackles. You explained your plan to him and what had happened, and as a gratitude for keeping you sane, you were going to help him out. 

- Maedhros tried to urge you to escape by yourself, but you countered that you were only familiar with Angband, and would be lost in the outside world, so he was going to need to be your guide. 

- You then led him through the dungeon and then to the tunnels, which to your relief had remained a secret. 

- You checked on the orc on one of the entrance locations, and found him there with others, just like you thought.

- You secretly led Maedhros through one of the stairs. However, your time soon ran out when an alert was sent. You two quickly ran, but the anxiety and stress might have triggered your labor because, at the steps, your water broke. 

- Maedhros had panic in his eyes when he saw what was happening, but you quickly instructed him to the hidden cave. He helped you reach there and blocked the entrance while you kneeled down in pain.

- Since there was really no other way to go through your labor silently, you decided to strip yourself half-naked and dip yourself in the pond, blocking your mouth to avoid making too much sound while you started pushing. Maedhros allowed you to grip his hand as you then tried to push your daughter out. 

- You do not know how long your labor took, but it felt agonizingly long. Maedhros tried his best to give you assuring words while looking out for danger in dread. When you felt something pushing out between your legs, you pushed for the final time and then dipped into the water to grab your baby. 

- You soon resurfaced after grabbing your baby and removing the umbilical cord. Your daughter released a small feeble cry as you grabbed your dry clothes and wrapped her around her. 

- You were shaking and freezing, so you asked Maedhros to hold her, urging him to keep her warm with his body heat. 

- He didn’t question it and gently took your crying daughter, keeping her against his chest and soothing her. She stopped crying and you felt glad. Her cries could have echoed and attracted unwanted attention. It also seemed Maedhros was experienced with babies. 

- You cleaned yourself and removed the remaining cord from yourself. You pulled yourself out and laid against Maedhros’s leg--- cold and deadly exhausted. 

- It was like your hips and legs had been hammered a thousand times. It was a straight-up awful feeling. The withered dress barely gave you any warmth. 

- You then turned your attention toward your daughter and asked Maedhros if there was anything wrong with her. The elf quickly assured you that your daughter seemed healthy as a day.

- You nearly found it humorous how good he was at keeping her calm, and he shared that he has six younger brothers and had been part of their lives when they were young. 

- When he felt you shiver, he took off whatever remained of his shirt and laid it across you, trying to help you keep you warm. 

- It was quiet in the cave, but no one seemed to know you were there and you struggled to keep yourself awake. 

- You felt awful that you failed to escape before she was born, and Maedhros tried to assure you that it wasn’t your fault and that he would keep watch since you needed rest.

- You felt emotional as you would have liked to have your family and friends there when your daughter was born. Your longing for them finally resurfaced after realizing how long it had been since you had last seen them. 

- Maedhros tried to comfort you, assuring you would be able to see them and your husband once you got out. You were safe and near the entrance, so you two had better chances than before. 

- You nearly felt silly when he thought you had a husband, and confessed about your situation with your daughter’s father and that you were not an elf, but a human, from another world. 

- He listened attentively even though there was a surprise in his eyes, and pity when you revealed that you had gone through your pregnancy on your own because your ex-boyfriend was a coward and that you once considered getting rid of your daughter before she was born. 

- Maedhros did not judge you and his initial surprise about you being a human vanished. He comforted you and told you how strong you had been to make it on your own. 

- He then asked what kind of name you had considered for your daughter. You had not thought of many names but told him you considered Anastasia or Estelle. 

- He then humored, telling you how the word ‘Estel’ was a word in Sindarin for ‘Hope’. And for a moment, looking at your daughter, helped him feel hope after so many years in captivity. 

- The mood lifted for a moment, even though the name was slightly cheesy, and even you considered it was a proper name for your daughter for now. 

- You lost more strength than you thought but Maedhros assured you that he would keep watch and allow you to rest. You felt hesitant at the thought of falling asleep, but it was like an automatic response and your eyes closed by themself. 

- You might have slept an hour or two, but it felt like a long time. When you woke up, you were relieved to see that nothing had happened during your rest and you three were still safe in the hidden cave. Your legs and abdomen were still aching, but you were no longer in awful pain. 

- You urgently needed to get out, so you dressed up and Maedhros helped you make a small sling that would allow you to carry your daughter against your chest. 

- You two quietly sneaked toward the next hidden tunnel. However, Maedhros then suddenly pulled you back and covered you when an orc jumped out of the shadow with an axe in hand. The axe struck him in the hand and you watched as Maedhros lost his right hand and in its place now stood a bleeding stump. 

- Maedhros cried out in pain but prevented the orc from touching you and your daughter, pommeling the creature to the ground with the sharp stone he had most likely snatched from you and killing it. 

- The sight of Maedhros killing the orc nearly frightened you, but when you two heard a coming noise, the elf then urged you to hide. 

- You did what he said and hid, but then froze when you realized he did not hide with you and remained behind to fight the orcs. The fight was short-lived as he was overwhelmed and eventually pushed down by the mass of orcs. 

- You nearly cried when you heard him yell in pain and be taken away. You successfully remained hidden. 

- There was no doubt that they would punish him severely. You considered your options. The freedom was right there and you could escape with your daughter. However, you felt awful aching at the thought of leaving Maedhros behind. He was perhaps your cellmate, but during your time in this hell hole you had become attached to him in a way.

- Your nose was then invaded by the familiar scent of sulfur, and you paused to consider your next move, formulating a dangerous plan to save your elven friend.

- Maedhros was taken to a room where his most cruel master, Sauron, awaited. Sauron had grown accustomed to Maedhros’s escape attempts and always delivered the harshest punishments. However, this time, if Maedhros denied everything and refused to yield, he could buy enough time for you and your daughter to escape. The defiant fire that once burned brightly in his soul was rekindled.

- Sauron threatened punishment but complemented how near he was escaping. Maedhros felt dread when the Maiar revealed that they knew he got help, and would do awful things to his ally once they were found. He then felt determined to put up whatever shield he could offer to protect your identity since they didn't know who you were.

- However, Sauron was disrupted when the whole hall began to shake violently and a loud explosion could be heard in the distance. 

- Amid the confusion, an orc arrived in the room, full of panic. He yelled how the mines and the lower floors were on fire. 

- Sauron quickly acted, ordering everyone to go put out the fires, because damaging the lower floors could cause severe damage to the whole fortress. 

- Maedhros was left alone with a few guards, but when they did not pay any attention to him, Maedhros felt someone pull him into the shadows. 

- He felt shocked when he saw that it was you who had stolen him from the guards and were now leading him through the corridors. He wanted to scold you for not taking the chance to escape, but then another explosion shook the fortress. 

- You had gone to the mines where the sulfur deposits were. You had spoiled oil all over the floors and left a trail that could spread the fire to the other floors, then lit them with a torch since sulfur was highly flammable. 

- You were serious about needing a guide, and when all of the fortress was distracted you two ran like hell. 

- You managed to avoid the guards since most were busy trying to end the fire and the explosions that threatened to destroy the entirety of the fortress. 

- You two found the initial entrance. You saw horses that were left unattended and urged Maedhros to take them. 

- You two then rode out of the cave, into the outside world, and away from Angband. 

- After riding as far as possible and finding cover in a forest,  Maedhros helped you rest and make a fire. Your legs were aching after such a ride. It was evident that the labor was still taking a heavy toll on you. You felt glad letting Maedhros lead your horse while you held on to the creature. You had ridden a pony when you were small, but there was no way you would have managed to ride a full-grown horse on your own, especially with a newborn baby in your arms. 

- You helped Maedhros tend to his still bleeding stump with whatever cloth you had left and you two tried to enjoy the warmth you had from the fire. 

- Maedhros thanked you for helping him escape, but scolded your recklessness and risking your chances for freedom. 

- You rolled your eyes at him and told him you wouldn’t have survived long since this wasn’t your world. 

- You then offered some pace beneath a cloak you managed to steal during your escape since your withered clothes barely provided warmth. He declined, insisting he would be alright and that you and your daughter needed it more. You called him an idiot and threw the other side of the cloak over his shoulders, claiming it had enough space for both of you. 

- He looked flustered by the closeness, so you guessed he was either not used to being so close with someone, or that he tried to be more gentlemanly about it. 

- While you two tried to enjoy the warmth, you pondered about the future.

- Maedhros confessed about his deeds as a kin slayer and that his kin were at odds with each other. You could be safe with them, but since you two were thralls, he didn’t know if he should risk your safety. 

- You assured him that you did not care about his past. If he was willing to sacrifice his own freedom and well-being for you and your daughter, then you could trust him. Actions spoke louder to you than words. 

- You two then basked in the warmth of the bonfire and the comfort of each other’s presence, wondering about the days ahead. 

[jiubilant]

cw: blood

“Do you love your brothers?” asks the priestess of the god Ofaanruvaak.

The god, licking the gore from his great maw, grants her a burning look. He’d caught the god of the hillmen, his brother, winging over his land without tribute or tinvaak—and had named him anew for this insolence, that Ahrolmal who had been Ahrolmul would not again forget who was thur from pines to fens. Nor would the hillmen forget. The priestess, before sending her marshmen to make thralls and crowfood of Ahrolmal’s folk, had painted their faces herself.

Now she stands at the foot of the godsroost as Ofaanruvaak Raven-Gift clambers down. Stones skitter down the slope. The ground trembles like a supplicant. A tree trodden beneath the god’s foot groans, prostrates itself, and snaps like a twig.

“Tell me a riddle,” he croaks, his voice still hoarse with flame. He bends his head. Smoke vents from teeth longer than seaxes. In the gilded hall of Konahrik Jun, hung above the pelt-strewn throne, the priestess had once seen a god’s fang taller than herself.

“My beak is bent to the base of things,” she murmurs, her face as still and wooden as her mask. The answers of her god are often as circular as his paths in flight; she spends her days treading patiently after the shadow of his wisdom, which seldom eclipses her whole. “I go grave along the ground. My going-forth is green on one side, and my track is black—”

“Do they love one another, these words that you speak?” The vast neck coils around her. A breath, or perhaps the heat of the huge eye, scorches her back. “The parts of the lawspeaker’s speech—proposition, examination, refutation—do these love one another, sonaaki?”

“If the speech is wise,” the priestess suggests. Her hand drips with the blood of Ahrolmal, which she had daubed on her warriors’ brows. “If the riddle is glib.”

Her god snorts. A pillar of smoke swirls from his jaws and dissolves in the mist of the night.

“It is a plough,” he says. Like a child studying an ant, he rests his chin on the ground to look the priestess in the face. “Tell another.”

“I have one single eye,” says the priestess, her voice dry. The riddle is one of Konahrik’s. “And two ears, and two hands, and two feet. And twelve hundred heads.”

A pause.

“I do not know this riddle,” says the god.

“A half-blind onion-peddler.”

Ofaanruvaak’s huff of laughter ripples the priestess’s robes. He straightens. He’s not as large as the World-Eater, her god—but his scales, as slick with blood as her sticky hand, are almost as black.

“I love my brothers,” he says, lifting his head higher than the trees, “as you love yours.”

He nods to the western hills. A glow like sunrise crests them: the burning houses of the hillmen, abandoned by their god.

[dailyadventureprompts]

Adventure: On the Chopping Block

Haste makes waste, the slow and merciless trod of industry makes something else entirely

For centuries the people of the Towerpine woods kept to the old rites and offerings which allowed them to make their living from the forest while staying on the good side of the local fey. That was before the margrave came and built his damnable mill, which takes and takes without first asking and stains the sky with its fumes. Now not only has the ancient pact with the fey been transgressed but the people of the Towerpine have lost their living, unable to compete with the mill and its labouring constructs, which produce in a day what it took the whole region a week to cut and carve.

Things are reaching a breaking point, and if the heroes don't act quickly there be no telling just how far the devastation will reach.

Adventure Hooks:

A good way to get the party into the Towerpine woods (especially if you're using this as an intro adventure) is to have them as caravan guards escorting much needed supplies to the frontier region. After fending off some wildlife that's grown increasingly erratic thanks to the mill's disruption of their habitat, they sit down in a village's public house for an overdue rest only to be approached by a gang of malcontents intent on going up the hill and doing something about the mill. These people are absolutely correct in their grievance, but their righteous and somewhat drunken attempt at sabotage is going to end badly when the constructs that work supply the mill activate and look to deal with them as intruders. The party can witness this disater first hand, ending up captured or escaping into the woods, alternatively they might hear about it the next morning, when the villagers beseech them to intervene and rescue the surviving saboteurs from where they're being held at the mill.

Garvan Vimley is the sort of odious little man who gives progress a bad name. Placed in charge of the mill's operation, Mr. Vimley and his Towerpine Lumber Company ( ironically shortened to TLC on their branding ) care only about squeezing more profits from the region regardless of how much harm occurs in the process. He might just be willing to release the captured vandals, if the party agrees to find one of his oh-so-expensive logging constructs that's vanished in the past week after being sent with a team of surveyors (who are also missing, but not as valuable) into one of the forest's more wild regions. As it turns out, the construct has been hijacked by a group of the local fey, who are now bickering between destroying the thing for good, playing with their new toy, or winding it up and send it rampaging back towards the mill. Negotiating with the fey will be difficult, especially because they hold a few of the surviving surveyors in thrall and are more than willing to use them as bargining chips.

Future Adventures:

Regardless of what the party decides to do Vimley intends to use this latest attempt at sabotage as a means of convincing his noble patron to institute draconian measures, pettitioning the crown to enclose the commonly held Towerpine woods and thus making it illegal for anyone save the TLC to harvest wood in the region, which would not only force the locals out of business but force them to buy even their kindling from the profitmongering Vimley or else be branded thieves. This scheme is subtle, and if one of the now sympathetic surveyors doesn't tip them off it's going to require the party to do some independant snooping to even notice what's going on. Once things are in motion the report of the sabotage has to be intercepted before it reaches the Margrave, potentially in a daring chase through the forest. Even then it's only but even that's going to be only a temporary fix, they'll need to make a petition at the Margrave's court with evidence of Vimley's mismanagement, or perhaps even oust the Margrave himself before he gets the crown involved.

It's more than corruption and greed at work in the Towerpines, as the forest's ancient guardians are making their displeasure known in all manner of ways. Rampaging beasts, dangerous pranks, nightmares, and bad omens all beset the people at the edge of the forest. Even this is not enough for Illyurn, the youngest of a circle of dryads who have long held court in the shadow of the ancient pines. The elders of the circle are convinced that their mortal neighbours will heed their warnings, return to the old ways, but Illyurn has fewer memories of good will to hold her back, and her anger burns ever hotter. Fire sears away the rot and ushers in the new growth after all, and as the days pass and Illyurn more and more embodies this destructive aspect of nature the more her incendiary words will catch in the mind of her fellow fey and those most discontent of the villagers, transforming them into a blazing mob that will rage and rage and rage until the landscape is rendered into ash.

When the party intercede and end up having to put Illyurn down, she will choke out one final smoke-bitter curse: A doom for the party, for the mill, it's maker, and it's masters, may all they hold precious end in embers.

Art 1

Art 2

[witchhazelevesque]

I’ve talked about Hazel and Nico picking up stray cats in Rome and about Leo having a shop cat and I’m gonna squish all that together.  

These three are prob the most secretive ones on board and they would prob by default hide any pet. So there’s just three secret cats on board. The cats know about each other obviously and thankfully for everyone involved like each other. 

They hang out together in little hiding places which leads to some run ins with their people when they’re trying to find their cat. Sitcom level stilted conversation and side eye. 

Anyway Leo figures it out first since he’s always squeezing his way into obscure places on the ship to do repairs and work.

He’s rebuilding Festus inside the wall one day and looks up to see this pile of way more cats than he knew about and his first thought is- “Did you have babies and how fast did those babies grow up?”

The cats decide to be funny and lead Leo to Hazel’s cabin, but Nico’s the one that opens the door to find Leo and his cat and two other cats that Nico doesn’t recognize and his first thought is “Did you invite your friends without telling me, and now the ship captain has found all these unwanted guests?”

He considers playing dumb but his cat comes up and starts weaving around his ankles and purring and reaching up to be held and Nico- he can’t ignore her obviously.

So they’re just standing there holding their respective cats, this other third one sitting between them unconcerned and licking its paw and then Hazel comes around the corner to find this scene and her first thought is “What spies has Hecate sent now and put these boys under thrall?”

Three pointing spider man meme

The truth comes out and they’re like, oh cool.

Alternatively:

When Nico’s  leaving with the statue he passes by Leo and a pair of eyes peeks out from his partly unzipped backpack and Leo spots them and shouts  “I see you Frank!”

Because the thought that made the most sense to him is that Frank got swept up in the praetor duty thing and wanted to clear his camps name but didn’t want to disappoint the rest of them by leaving. 

This is of course not the case, and Nico jumps and the cat jumps and yowls and scratches her way out of the pack and takes off down the hill.

Where Hazel and Frank are standing looking at this scene. 

Leo tries to help Nico find the cat but gets distracted by Frank asking if Leo actually thought he’d leave the quest like that.

“I don’t know man! It was just the first thing that made sense! I see an unidentified animal hanging around, I assume it’s you!”

As Leo explains the very scientific (but not at all possible) theory that popped into his head in that split second that maybe Frank turned himself into one of those starfish that could regrow their entire bodies from one leg- “That’s not an actual thing, Leo.”- and then regrew himself and then turned back human and then one of him turned cat, he manages to get Nico’s attention and tosses him a bag of cat treats.

Maybe this doesn’t work and because of the timing of the shadows Nico has to leave without his cat, so Leo promises to find her before the Argo leaves. Which yeah in the long run staying on the ship is the safest option, but Nico’s still peeved about it by ToA and that’s why he’s mad- though it’d be more like annoyance at that point- at Leo.

Or maybe it works too well and all three cats appear, and this isn’t the most opportune time for that. They see how attached the cats are to each other and Nico’s like 🙄 fine whatever, she better make it out of this without a scratch, Leo.

Which she does, obviously.

Just imagine Hazel doing witchy business with the shadows of three cats hanging around her, she feels very badass and very adored. Arion is displeased at his person’s attention being divided from him but they’re cats so of course not even he is going to win anything against them. They sometimes just ride around on his back and he trots around slow enough to be comfortable for them. 

If you wanna be sad and yearning about it then Nico taking care of Leo’s cat after his death and all those Associated Feelings and then being peeved all over again when his letter arrives and muttering to the cat(s) at like every opportunity, “When your father gets home-“ just to have a reason to talk about Leo.

(Percy does confirm at some point that those regenerating starfish do in fact exist and Frank is Not Happy about losing that debate)

[lavender-romancer]

Winter

Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader CW: suicide mentions, conflict

You wanted to be his again, not owned by him but a part of him. But it had been so long since you'd felt close to Ivar that it felt out of reach as he descended into rage filled madness

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

You were drifting apart more and more with every hastily made decision fueled by anger that Ivar made. He would curse you, berate you and you could do anything because you didn't trust that he wouldn't kill you himself. You knew something was deathly wrong when you kept finding yourself high on a hill looking over a rock face, moving closer to the edge every time and not feeling afraid. It was impossible to not feel that you were lost in the dark of Ivar's tyranny. But you still craved his adoration, his love and the affirmation that he only wanted you. All of these things would never happen now, you weren't good enough for him.

You needed him running through your veins like a sickness that couldn't be cured- a toxicity that fuelled your love and in turn, your hatred for him. You didn't want to need anyone, when you were younger your mother had always taught you to never need anyone more than yourself. To stay self-reliant and not let anyone control you but, it was impossible. When you met Ivar he was the son of Ragnar, a grumpy boy with no battle experience and a soft spot for you. Now, after 6 years of marriage you couldn't decide if you needed to try harder or just throw yourself on to that cliff face.

"It feels like he's trying to erase me, fade me out of his life and forget I was ever there." You told Helga as you sat descaling some fish with her.

"Ivar is… complicated, I'm sure I had this conversation with you when you started seeing him. He's a different type of person from us. Not as emotional," she tried to smile but could tell that her words weren't necessarily comforting.

"I was so convinced that he loved me then, that he would do anything for me. But he just wants power and money and meaningless sex, I just can't believe he deceived me into this marriage." Helga suddenly gripped your hand.

"This is not your fault. As you said, you were deceived by someone who claimed to love you. The boy has some kind of power. It pulls some people in and I don't know what it is but it captured you," She paused. "I think you should tell him."

"He wouldn't even see me, I can guarantee there's a thrall rooted to his lap right now." You clenched your teeth together and tried to hold in your rage.

"You need to let it out, your rage. Go to the top of a mountain and scream, allow yourself to feel it." Helga suggested and you nodded.

"What I really want is to have him, it's pathetic but I'm so in love with him it's hard to overcome." You placed down the fish and groaned.

"It will pass, and if it doesn't, meet someone else who will be more emotionally attentive. Ivar seems like the kind of man who needs other people's feelings laid out in front of him." Helga smiled and her dark rimmed eyes made contact with you as the two of you carried on with the fish.

Ivar was drunk out of his mind, two naked thralls sitting on his lap as he'd occasionally take their breasts into his mouth. Some days he would forget you were even his wife, you hardly saw each other. He wouldn't say it was an excuse for his behavior but it was definitely a promoting factor of it. You used to smother him, cover him in a blanket of affection and make him feel like no one could hurt him. Ivar didn't remember when that stopped but he also didn't remember when he began sleeping with other women. The crossover between the two was so seamless it made him feel less remorseful, as if your absence made his actions warranted.

When Ivar saw you walk into the Great hall he felt less than he thought he would. In some ways he was happy to see how miserable you looked, hopeful you'd come crawling back to him in pure adoration. Ivar couldn't think of a better way to gain a woman's affection than by making her jealous. Unaware of his ridiculous thought process, Ivar continued looking you up and down through his eyebrows. You could only glare back at him as you headed towards your room, but you annoyingly had to go past Ivar.

"You despise me, wife?" Ivar asked and you stopped in your tracks, sighing deeply.

"Yes." You said simply, even though you loved him you needed him to wake up.

"But… that's not. What?" He said confused, pushing the thralls to the floor, with a resounding yelp from both the women.

"What do you want, Ivar?" You looked at him with such disdain it genuinely surprised him.

"You cannot speak to me like that!" He yelled and you sighed again.

"Then kill me." You sounded defeated, you didn't care anymore. It would be easier for it to all be over so you didn't have to deal with the emotional turmoil of him.

"I'm not going-" he paused. "You are my wife! Why won't you respect me?" He yelled again and you almost winced at the level of noise he was making.

For a few moments all you could hear was the scrape of his crutch and the crackle of the fire, for a moment it felt surprisingly peaceful. You just wanted to exist in that scene, a beautiful fire with furs on the floor in front of it where the local children would sit and be told stories. There was such a serenity to watching children's faces as they listened to a story, they hadn't experienced the hurt or the pain. All they knew was that this was their favourite day because they could sit inside the great hall and feel important. Even Ivar couldn't take that sense of pride away from them.

"Are you going to say anything, wife?" Ivar broke the blissful silence and you couldn't quite believe how aggravating it all was.

"I hate you, I hate what you've done to me." Was all you said and he looked astonished.

"I won't have this bullshit!" He yelled even louder before calling for his guards. "Tie her to a tree in the forest." He swatted you away like you were a pest but, at this point you saw no reason to resist. Ivar would do whatever he wanted with his power and most of the time that would mean fucking you around.

Even the guards were uncomfortable as they threw a rope over a strong tree branch and tied you by your wrists so that your arms always had to be extended. It wasn't the worst punishment you could have got, you were surprised Ivar hadn't got a lust for blood when you disrespected him. He would continue to degrade you and debase you no matter what you did, even though you loved him it didn't matter anymore. Ivar was so consumed by greed or power or hatred for you that he couldn't focus on anything else.

Your heart felt cold and tight. There wasn't any room for any more love because you had given it all away to someone who didn't want it or didn't realise how much he needed it. In one breath you would hope that he would just come and kill you and in the other, you still hoped he would wait for you. That he would allow your coupling to at least attempt to survive. Sometimes when you were around Ivar, you would feel a tiny part of your body decompose. One part of you died because you couldn't hold on to someone who only wanted to break away from you. But all you wanted was to be taken back to when you were younger, you needed him, you wanted him and he would never be what he was again.

[oliversrarebooks]

Hunting Dog Part One: Lowell's Mistake

Masterlist

This is a spinoff of The Rare Bookseller! It takes place in the same world, but you don't have to have read Bookseller to understand this story.

April 1922

TW: human auction, capture, drugging

Oh, he'd hit the absolute motherlode.

Lowell couldn't believe that the tip he'd received at the speakeasy had actually panned out. He'd spent all night in surveillance observing the vampires  -- and there was no question that they were vampires -- bustling in and out of the old but well-kept mansion. With a specially crafted scent to disguise the smell of his blood and the moon nearly full, it hadn't been difficult to conceal himself in an a gnarled oak tree and confirm that this was likely the infamous, elusive auction house.

He watched cars and carriages arrive and depart, well-dressed vampires chatting on the porch, struggling humans being dragged into a basement entrance, and clearly enthralled individuals carrying out trash and carrying in crates of supplies, their sleepwalking movements and glassy eyes apparent even from a distance. If this wasn't the auction house itself, it was certainly a major hotbed of vampire activity, more than worth his time.

Every vampire hunter worth his salt dreamed of finding and taking down the auction house. Between all the thralls the hunter's guild had rescued over the years, they had a very good idea of what the interior was like, how they processed humans, and what kind of clientele frequented the place. But no thrall knew where it was located -- about an hour away from the city by carriage, somewhere secluded in the countryside, memories far too vague to have any success locating it. The vampires were careful to make sure that the thralls were unconscious, drugged, or hypnotized while taking them to and from the cursed place.

Lowell hadn't thought much of the alcohol drenched, barely lucid man who had stumbled into the speakeasy that night, until he claimed that he had escaped from a fledgeling vampire. Purchased at the auction for a thousand dollars, a pitiful sum for a human life, the poor thrall had managed to get free in just two months' time. His memory of the auction house had proved shockingly clear, giving Lowell the final few clues he needed to track the place down.

And now, it was within his sights, that wretched house of misery where humans were bought and sold like meat at a butcher's. Even now, within those walls, innocent victims were having their minds spirited away, their wills bent towards serving monstrous masters, their very lives stolen from them.

All there was to do was wait until sunup, when he'd have all the advantages against sluggish vampires who could not flee outdoors. He briefly toyed with the idea of gathering more hunters and returning the next day, before discarding it. The security around the auction house, especially as the sun began to rise and the vampires retreated within, appeared to be minimal. It was obvious that they counted on secrecy and remoteness as their main way of keeping humans out -- the security was no doubt focused instead on keeping humans in.

And if the allure of being the vampire hunter to destroy the notorious auction house was clouding his judgement a tad... well, you didn't get to be a hunter with this many dustings under your belt without a lot of confidence and a lot of risks.

Once the sun had crested the hills and the vampires had all either left or gone back within, the only souls remaining outside the mansion were some unfortunate thralls enlisted as guards. While they had clearly been chosen for strength and size, their slow reactions were no match for a hunter in possession of his full faculties. Lowell quickly dispatched the guard near the basement door with a sedative dart, liberating the poor man of his keys and entering the building. He used a small block of wood to prop the door open, a trick he'd learned from well-seasoned hunters to always leave himself an escape route.

The vast majority of vampire manors Lowell had entered were ornate and packed wall-to-wall with furniture and collectibles suiting the vampire's particular desires, an expression of their innate possessiveness. Lowell knew for sure that he was in the auction house and no ordinary manor the second he laid eyes on the hallway -- painted white, free of obstruction, sterile, resembling a hospital or military base.

It was deathly quiet, so Lowell took extra care that his footsteps did not make noise against the polished wood floor, lest he alert any vampire that happened to be awake. He passed a few rooms, cautiously peering in with weapons drawn. One was an infirmary, one was a shower, one seemed to be an office, another couple were occupied primarily by padded chairs with leather restraints. 

The laundry room and kitchen each had a couple of dazed thralls doing chores. In each case, Lowell shut the door again before they noticed, if they were even capable of noticing. The guild would have a lot of work on their hands rehabilitating all of these thralls once he cleaned out the vampires, that was for certain.

Truthfully, Lowell didn't have a lot of patience for thralls himself. He felt compassion for innocent victims, and tried to rescue them when possible, but when it came to rehabilitating them... he couldn't stand their foggy, dazed expressions, their nervous flinching, the way they laced their speech with 'sirs' and empty courtesies. He especially hated to hear freed thralls begging for the touch of a cruel master, longing for fangs in their neck even months after rescue. So many of them who tried to live on their own ended up back in the sway of a vampire within a  year or less. Once easy prey, always easy prey.

Lowell was eternally thankful that he was a predator instead.

Rounding the corner, he encountered the first vampire, a drowsy, scrawny thing stationed in front of a double door. It was beyond obvious that he'd never encountered a threat before -- even with his vampiric reflexes, he was far too slow to react before Lowell was on top of him, hand pressing to his mouth to stifle his cry, a sure hand driving a wooden stake straight through his heart.

It was easy. This had all been easy so far. Too easy, for such a legendary place. He knew he shouldn't let his guard down as the dusted vampire had.

But maybe this would be easy. After all, it was clear that the vampires were only concerned about humans escaping, not humans infiltrating. And despite their enhanced strength and senses and their many supernatural powers, vampires weren't especially clever compared to humans. Undeath and immortality made them stagnate -- most vampires were eternally stuck in their ways, and that made them careless and unimaginative. Lowell couldn't help the rush of pleasure that came with beating the vampires right in their own territory.

He quietly pushed open the double door, crossbow at the ready, cracking it just slightly with a doorstop. It was a long, dark hallway, and the scattered noises Lowell could hear didn't sound like vampires. It sounded like soft breathing, quiet snoring, the occasional mutter or sob. It was pitch black, and Lowell had to risk lighting a match, its flickering light revealing iron-barred cells. 

Holding cells for the poor humans waiting to be processed into thralls, just as he'd expected. The motherlode, indeed. Most of the humans seemed to be either asleep or unresponsive as he passed their cells. It was just as well, because it meant they couldn't raise an alarm. 

"Ah --" 

Lowell could see his matchlight reflected in a pair of terrified eyes, hands gripping the bars of her cell. "Shhh, be quiet," he said.

"Sorry," she said in a voice so quiet that he could barely hear her. "Are you... you're not a vampire, are you? Are you here to rescue us?"

"Yes," he said, with a swell of pride. "That's the idea."

"Oh, thank you, thank you. They told me I was going to be taken and hypnotized tomorrow night -- and I've been so scared -- I want to go home, please -- "

"All right, all right, keep your voice down and let me do my work."

"Of course," she said, slinking back into the shadows. "Thank you, thank you."

As Lowell approached the other end of the hall, he could see another pair of double doors, and considered his options. The doors hadn't been locked against his entry, but if the vampires were concerned about potential thralls escaping, they might lock the doors to prevent exit. If he tried them, he'd be likely to alert the vampire guard that may be lurking on the other side, who could fetch backup.

Too risky. He'd have to go back the way he came. 

But when he turned around and reached the door he had entered, he found it shut tight.

No -- he had certainly left it propped open. There was no way it had closed without him hearing it, not unless --

Shit, they were onto him.

He dropped his match, snuffing it out with his foot while preparing his crossbow. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his nerves steady. There might not be many vampires in the auction house at this hour. This wasn't even the worst situation he'd ever been in. He'd fight his way through them and have an amazing story to tell the guild once they showed up here to help with the cleanup.

Several tense moments passed as the hunter readied his weapons and reassured himself of his impending victory.

The double doors at both ends of the hall slammed open, and the electric lights overhead flashed on and off in quick succession -- with his eyes acclimated to the darkness, he was blinded, shooting his bow half on instinct. He shot one in the shoulder -- saw another crumble to dust -- before cold hands wrapped around his arms, forcing his crossbow to drop and pinning him against a vampire.

Vampires weren't any more clever than humans, but they were strong. Even the weakest looking vampire was stronger than any ordinary human. That's why hunters relied on skill and surprise, because their odds were so poor when it came to hand-to-hand combat.

This was it, then. He'd fucked up, and this was how he died. It was happening so fast. He'd had this nightmare so many times, and he braced himself for a knife in his gut or a snap of his neck. At least he'd died bravely. The way he always wanted to go out, really, fighting the goddamn leeches.

But then a damp cloth was pressed against his face, a cloth with a thick chemical smell. His eyes widened as he realized that he was going to be subjected to a fate far worse than death.

Capture. They were going to capture him, and with vampires, that only meant one thing -- they were going to try and make him into a thrall. A nightmare worse than death, one that he'd never even let himself entertain. 

He saw the cruel grins of the vampires surrounding him as two of them held him tightly restrained and another pushed the cloth firm against his face. He held his breath, thrashing, hoping for an opening to escape, even as their grip held firm.

A vampire with the appearance of a young, innocent woman was standing nearby, watching the scene, yawning wide. "Nice work," she said. "Worth staying up late for."

"Are you sure you don't want to kill him? I mean, he just dusted Tim," said the vampire holding the cloth.

"He's too valuable to kill. A hunter turned thrall will make a fine prize. I know just the right buyer, too."

No! No, he couldn't let it happen. That would never happen. He couldn't be a mindlessly adoring pet to some prideful, cruel monster. He couldn't fawn and offer his blood and call a vampire 'sir'. That couldn't be him. He'd rather die, he'd so much rather die.

He wasn't fucking prey.

But his struggles were fruitless, especially as more vampires surrounded him and helped to immobilize him. He couldn't hold his breath forever, and he was forced to gulp down the noxious drug along with the air he needed. His head started to spin, his extremities going numb.

He had to get free, right now, before it was too late.

But as he began to sag in the vampires' arms, his limbs heavy and his eyelids beginning to droop against his will, he knew in his heart it already was too late. He was growing exhausted, the drugged cloth slowly but surely putting him under, and his fight to wrench himself from the vampires' grasp had now transitioned into a fight to keep himself awake. 

"That's a good hunter," cooed the young woman, petting his hair, and he was too drowsy to move his head away. "Just go right to sleep. I'll take such good care of you."

"You won't. Whatever you're planning... it won't work," he said with all of the fire he could muster, his voice muffled by the cloth. "You might have caught me, but you're not going to turn me into some pathetic, simpering thrall."

"Oh, I'll do that and more," she said, her sugary voice growing more sinister. "By the time I'm through with you, you'll be nothing more than an eager little puppy of a thrall, laying at a vampire's feet and begging to be fed on."

The thought sickened him. He thrashed weakly, one last vain attempt to get free, but it was beyond hopeless. The urge to just shut his eyes and go to sleep was so strong, and every blink made it harder for him to open his eyes again. But he couldn't sleep, couldn't let the bloodsuckers take his mind.

"Aww, is the mighty hunter getting sleepy?" She scratched lightly at his scalp, a gesture which might be affectionate under different circumstances. "Go to sleep," she sang in a mocking lullaby, "go to sleep, go to sleep, little hunter..."

"No... don't..." His head sagged forward into the cloth, his vision blurring, his eyelids fluttering.

"Off to dreamland with you now, little hunter-thrall. You'll feel so much better after a little nap. And once you wake up, we're going to have so much fun together."

Lowell could do nothing but groan, defeated, as his eyes closed and refused to open again. His mind began to drift far away as he sank helplessly into a drugged sleep.

Masterlist

I'm not sure how many parts this side story will have, but knowing me, too many.

[thebluestbluewords]

Family Day (Charming Family Edition)

There’s a headache building in Mal’s skull that feels like staring her mother in the eyes. She’s going to scream if she has to speak politely with one more adult who wants her dead, and while she knows, academically, that Evie’s still around the dessert table somewhere, she doesn’t have the capacity to totter up the hill in her heels and find her to beg for a purse aspirin.  “Horrible, actually. Audrey’s grandma has a stick up her ass, I can’t find Evie anywhere, and I think I’m getting used to being in the sun.”

“Sounds awful,” Jay drawls, voice warm and teasing. “I hit Chad in the shins with a croquet mallet.” 

Right. She’d seen that. Chad’s squawk was one of the best things she’s heard all day. “Great. So now his parents can be pissed at us too.”

Jay jabs his elbow into her ribs. “Hey, you said best behavior! I went for the shins, not the head.” 

“He’s still royalty, and hitting him with any kind of mallet is still legally classified as assault with a potentially deadly weapon, dumbass.” Mal reminds him. She’s being a beacon of patience and rationality today, her little moment with Audrey’s grandmother notwithstanding. “We’re gonna get Fairy Godmother ripping us a new one when she finds out you assaulted royalty.” 

They’re going to get Fairy Godmother criticizing the hell out of them no matter what they do today, but if they’re lucky, it won’t matter. Once they get a lead on where the wand is being stored pre-ceremony, they’ve got the thrall potion ready to go, and a resentful little fairy child all lined up to carry out their wicked designs. Fairy Godmother, Audaron���.none of it will matter once they’re the ones with the wand. 

Mal’s got a plan. She’s not abandoning it for a few second thoughts. Or one-point-five thoughts. They’re not even strong enough to be second thoughts. She’s still on her original wicked thoughts, she’s just evolving. Growing them stronger and more wicked than ever. 

Yeah. 

She’s not changing the plan just because a couple of Auradon kids have been a little less than horrible to them. They’ve got a goal in mind, and they’re wicked, and evil, and they don’t care who they hurt to get there. They can’t care. Mal’s tried caring before and all that’s ever gotten her is– 

(blood pooling on the floor, bones visible through shredded skin, marks so deep the barrier can’t erase them completely)

All caring gets you is more disappointment when the things you care about break anyway. 

(get it out get it out get it out) 

She can’t afford to care about any Auradon kids, no matter how nice they are. 

How kind. 

How good. 

Jay tips his head back against the rough stone of the wall they’re both leaning against.  “Whatever. He’s fine.” 

Mal snorts. She’s pretty fucking sure that Chad is fine, but the woman making a beeline towards them with a familiar blond head on her heels is a sure sign that Chad himself feels otherwise.  “Yeah? Tell that to his mom.” 

[herosneednotapply]

Vampire Au (Daybreakers)

Continued From Here

@thrall-of-the-hill

"Mr. Maze as you have said much of the population is ingesting or in a roundabout way using products with a little bit of me in it. I would be a fool if I didn't have a way to weaponize it and keep myself safe. So don't you worry your pretty little head about me. I do not fear death we are in fact very old friends." Addie said she didn't think for an instant that this complete stranger actually cared for her. He was bluffing in hopes that either she gave up out of fear or whatever witch that was charged with looking out for him would bring back up.

"I know I look rather spry but I'm from a world that predates the vampiric outbreak. And all I want is to make a world where what is left of humanity can live in peace. Return the vial and I'll leave you to the witches. If not...well, I won't hesitate to use force if need be."

Before Addie could move towards Lucas a familiar face appeared from the forest. Mint had decided she'd heard enough and had contacted their leader.

"I hate to interrupt this but I've been tasked with bringing you both to the Castle. They want to talk about Lucas, the serum, and potentially coming to an agreement." Mint explained looking from one to thr other.

[iomadachd]

: { Niklaus } :

"Hardly, they live north of here, we stay separate for a reason," he replied, sniffing in disdain at the man.

"You'll leave tonight. You can keep walking right out of the city limits, Judge."

The scent was off in a way he couldn't explain, only that it was violently wrong in comparison to any other in the Quarter. This man needed to be out of town immediately, or he'd be a danger to them all.

"Mikaelson is all you need to know, and if you've had any experience with the supernatural community, you'll do well to heed the name."

iomadachd​:

: { Niklaus } :

“Not always, I’m a special case,” he replied simply.

The casual disregard, even idiocy, in deferring to New Orleans rules was infuriating. The man was either a fool, or the type of arrogant that thought the rules didn’t apply to his situation. At least he’d faced consequences from killing the man, if the smell and look of him was any indication.

“Neutral territory. A delicate truce between the witches, werewolves and vampires of the city. Not announcing yourself to the covens at least is considered incredibly rude, even if you do ‘work alone’,” he replied, and you could hear the air quotes around the words.

“Dead blood does nothing for me, he’s wasted in every sense of the word. You’ll at least give your name, witch, unless you want to join him on the ground.”

“You bite a fairy or something?” he snorted at the man’s words, ready to walk away. It seemed the other was set on applying whatever false law the supernaturals of the area had agreed to. With luck, he’d be gone by morning, allow the heat to cool before returning for his hunt. 

“I follow no laws, human or otherwise,” he added over his shoulder when he turned his back to the other, he was not a sinner the spirits cared to take so he had no reason to stay. “You can call me Judge, that’s all I’ve gone by since I’ve come back,” Lucas Maze died in the fire with Silent Hill. 

“Yours?”

[teenwolf-meta]

If Scott could go back in time and not take the bite…would he?

Thank you for this ask! I'm sorry it took me so long to answer it, but I wanted to give it the attention it deserves. I love this question because it involves a bunch of questions and possibilities.

We know, for instance, that when Derek tells Scott there's a potential cure for the bite in season one, Scott's very interested, for pretty understandable reasons: there's a violent Alpha trying to make him murder his friends, a loose cannon of a werewolf stalking him, and his girlfriend's family is hunting him, and will kill him if they find out his secret. 

I have to think that Scott wonders what would have happened if Derek hadn't betrayed him and if the cure had worked. Jackson would never have become the kanima, Matt would never have gone on his killing spree. Erica and Boyd would be alive. With no Alpha in town, Gerard would have no reason to stick around. Victoria would never have tried to murder Scott. The Alpha pack would have had no reason to come. The Nemeton never would have been awakened, the nogitsune wouldn't have been freed, Allison wouldn't have been killed, the deadpool would never had been activated, and so on. 

Of course, things aren't always simple. Isaac might have remained in an abusive household, the Argent Code would have remained unchanged, the Alpha pack would still have been at large, Jennifer might still have come to town, and most immediately, Peter would have still been targeting Lydia to make his return. The escalation of the situation in Beacon Hills also resulted in meaningful victories; Gerard, Jennifer, Deucalion, various assassins, and the Dread Doctors were all stopped, just to name a few. Without Scott and the pack, Malia might have been killed by her father, or remained a coyote forever. Scott might never have met Kira, or Parrish, or become so close with Liam. 

I think Scott would be reluctant to mess with the timeline because he knows the consequences are difficult to anticipate, and usually big. You can see that attitude in things like his and Lydia's exhaustion in 6b, when they're trying to figure out what to do about the anuk-ite (6x11):

LYDIA: We opened a door to another world... and something came out with us. Now we need the Hellhound to stop it. MALIA: So we put it back. We've put things back before… Why are you two looking at each other like there's something you know that I don't know? SCOTT: [sighs] It might not be that simple. LYDIA: We saved Stiles. We brought everyone back, but that's not how it was supposed to happen. There's always a price to pay. SCOTT: We learned that from the Nemeton.

In the same vein, I definitely don't see Scott going back to the night of the pilot and choosing not to sneak out. If Peter hadn't bitten Scott, he would have bitten someone else; he was looking for a minion to help him kill and make himself more powerful. Scott wouldn't want to condemn anyone else to that. Scott is also extraordinarily talented at refusing to break; someone else probably wouldn't have been able to resist Peter's thrall. Things could have been so much worse if Peter had bitten someone else that night.

The last question I think your question gets at, anon, is whether Scott ever becomes comfortable with being a werewolf, since that discomfort would be part of why he'd want to undo the bite in the first place.

This anxiety is misrepresented by hateful or misinformed parts of fandom as Scott not understanding what it is to be a werewolf, or they claim that he's resentful of and dismissive of werewolves as a whole. So before I continue, I just want to stress that that's not what I'm saying, and that's just not true at all. Scott is, for instance, not against Isaac/Erica/Boyd being bit because he hates werewolves. He's worried about them being hurt, either by Derek or by hunters or other werewolves--which they all are. When he bites Liam, he's quick to assure him that's he's "not a monster" (4x04), even as he laments the pain and danger he's brought on Liam's head, and while he worries that he himself is becoming "more of a monster" (4x08).

Scott isn't negative about being a werewolf per se. From the beginning, there are moments of excitement and happiness that Scott experiences from being a werewolf, starting in season 1 and really picking up, I think, in the first episode of season 2, when Scott excitedly races through the woods and leaps over the ravine on his way to see Allison. Yeah, maybe he only has to sneak around because he's a werewolf in the first place, but I'd argue that we see Scott clearly enjoying being a werewolf for its own sake in that moment. Scott even seems cautiously optimistic about his future as he comforts a grieving Allison: "Everything's gonna be okay. We're gonna find Lydia, and it's all gonna be good. Just think about it: no Peter, no psycho werewolf killings... Your dad and me... Well, that's a work in progress" (2x01).

But, of course, the fragile peace doesn't last. Over and over, we see every aspect of Scott's life—his loved ones, his family, his future—threatened or damaged or destroyed because of the fact that he's a werewolf. Scott himself is stabbed, shot, poisoned, electrocuted and otherwise tortured, when he's not hurting himself. Scott is also hyper aware of his increased capacity to hurt people as a werewolf; it's literally his worst nightmare (4x08).

Unsurprisingly, Scott becomes suicidal. The show handles it most directly in 3x05 and 3x06, but it isn't really resolved, and by the time Scott is murdered, Posey has said Scott was "ready to die." After he's resurrected, Scott's self-esteem doesn't seem to have improved much: he throws himself into constant danger, and is ready to square off with even the Beast of Gévaudan, even knowing how hopeless it is. After his friends show up to help him, Braeden asks if he seriously thought he had a chance against the Beast.

"No," Scott replies glibly (5x18).

By 6a, it's treated as almost a background element. When Scott squares off with Douglas alone in the woods, Douglas sneers, "I don't know whether it's stupidity or suicide."

In response, Scott shrugs. "Maybe both" (6x10).

I confess this lack of resolution has always frustrated me. I appreciate that the finale emphasized Scott's thriving friendships and relationships, and there's been some excellent meta done about Scott and self-harm in the finale, but it also felt like a bit of a bleak choice to have the finale show Scott engaging in dramatic self-harm, and leave him embroiled in a seemingly endless war.

Which is why I really appreciated that the movie showed a Scott who seems to have found a balance between pursuing his dreams and helping those in need, in a way that makes the most of the fact that he's a werewolf. Most significantly, for the purpose of this ask, I loved that when the nogitsune mockingly asks, "Tell me, Scott McCall, what is the sound of a wolf who is ready to die?"

Scott can finally answer, "I'd tell you, but I'm not ready to die."

[outofangband]

two posts about Himring related folklore for @nelyoslegalteam

I’m making a post about folklore in Angband soon too!

my tag for posts related to the position of ex thralls in Beleriand is 'but ever the noldor feared' and post angband! there are more related posts there!

The folklore of Himring is complex and the line between rumor, truth, and campfire tale is blurred.

The people of Himring are a diverse population, mostly Noldor of Fëanor’s host but some of Nolofinwë’s too, who wanted to be closer to the front lines or who were actually stationed there, a small population of Northern Sindar, and of course a small population of Angband survivors making up mostly Sindar and Avarin elves who were captured before the Noldor returned to Beleriand (I’ve talked about this on many posts but I’m always glad to say more! It’s one of my favorite subjects!)

The stories come from within the March and throughout the rest of Beleriand.

Tales of the desolate landscape itself were sparse before Maedhros built his fortress though people had been known to disappear around those hill near the river wells but whether they were taken by the cold or elements or the enemy was unknown.

The residents of Himring have a wealth of stories.

There are those that are woven simply for amusement, or to pass the time or sharpen the mind on long nights of watch where all you see is an endless expanse of winter. It’s easy to become confused then.

They tell of strange lights in the snow, of fires that appear to burn through the storms but vanish when travelers veer too close, of monstrous shadows that only their frightened horses can see.

There are the inevitable tales and rumors of Angband and those who have seen it. Some are shared among survivors, to comfort, confirm and console. Stories and tales from the fortress inevitably make their way into communities with any survivors, then spread by those on the outside.

Some fall into the timeless game of comparing wounds, out of anger or a bitter sport. The nastier tales that win these little games sometimes leave their private circles.

Many are spread by others with varying intentions. Of course there is simple curiosity and misinformation but there are those who repeat the vicious accusations often leveled at escaped thralls and often, towards Maedhros himself. I went into that in the last ask you sent I think.

And then of course there is Tol Himling, the remnants of the fortress of Himring on a tiny island. Few visit it unless by great need in stormy seas. It does not appear on all maps of the ocean. It is said to be haunted for those who seek shelter in its ruins rarely find peace. They dream of a hell of iron far below the waves and of blinding lights and stark cliffs they have never seen.

Second, an idea I've mentioned here but have wanted to make a longer post about it too

Inspired by @welcomingdisaster ‘s fantastic world building prompt list here! Prompt: native bird

One of my favorite topics to write about is the societal place of ex thralls in Beleriand and the culture of belief around Angband.

Among some in Beleriand and later, throughout Middle Earth, barn owls are believed to be the spirits of other predatory animals. This is because they are pale, fallow colors and because, unlike other owls, they do not hoot. The sound of the barn owl is a breathy shrieking sound that has often been described as something unearthly. The most common name for barn owl in Sindarin roughly translates to ghost hunter. 

Although these birds are not believed to be ill omens nor pose any danger to elvenkind by most, they have developed an association with other beings who exist in the margins between life and death, who flee or were driven from their homes, and who have returned to a state of hunter or hunted. In First Age Beleriand, they were sometimes associated with former thralls of Angband, usually those nameless ones who never came home or who were exiled by their own kin and who survive as wild beasts. 

These elves, though not all believed them to be such anymore, existed somewhere between reality and legend in Beleriand and beyond. 

Nonetheless, stories of pale wraith like figures who stole from, attacked or even ate their own kind, who moved with an uncanny silence even beyond the ability of the Eldar…these stories melded perfectly with the vision of barn owls and their eerie calls.

These perhaps later morphed with the stories told by the men who followed Morgoth about the Eldar as a whole. (Obligatory Morwen mention here too).

In the frozen abodes of Himring, watchers on the ramparts pause as the shadow of a ghost hunter passes silently by the winter moon. Some turn away or mutter a prayer. Some watch still closer.

[death-munchkin]

I have come to the conclusion that there is a very very large overlap in the people who assume that Astarion is "secretly uncomfortable" with a polyam relationship with Halsin and people who a) have zero social awareness, or b) are polyphobic, or c) both. Astarion is not uncomfortable with polyamory, he is uncomfortable participating in sex. Those are two very different things. Astarion is insecure about his ability to be a 'fulfilling' partner to Tav due to his aversion to sex, and that is a perfectly natural fear almost everyone who's ever been repulsed by or reluctant to participate in sex can attest to. My fellow Ace and/or sex repulsed people you should know well how scary it can be to not feel sure that your partner is satisfied. Astarion at no point sounds sad about the proposal, with the exception when specifically asking if it's because he hasn't been putting out enough recently (Note, Astarion and Tav would not have had sex at this point for a wee while), and if Tav reassures him that he is special to them just the way he is, he is genuinely happy.

"But he doesn't enjoy having sex with the Drow twins." My dear sweet child, he explicitly says he's not ready for that yet. At no point does he pretend to be okay with it only to secretly not be. He clearly and firmly says he is not okay with it, and you only get the narration about him seeming empty if you pressure him into it. This does not happen with Halsin. I repeat. This does not happen with Halsin! Astarion never, I repeat NEVER says anything akin to "not being sure" or "I don't know", or "I'm not ready for this" in regards to Halsin's proposition, while he CLEARLY says that about the Drow twins.

Why, you may then ask, is he uncomfortable with the Drow twins but not Halsin? Well, for one, the Drow twins are sex workers. And while in this house we 100% respect love and support all sex workers, they were unfortunately likely targets during his thrall days, and they almost certainly open up some wounds he's not ready to explore yet. Secondly, with the Drow twins he is pressured to participate. Again, Astarion is uncomfortable participating in sex, not with polyamory as a whole. Astarion would be uncomfortable being pressured into basic vanilla christian one on one sex with Tav just as much as he would be uncomfortable being pressured into sex with the Drow twins. That has nothing to do with polyamory. He would not be and is not uncomfortable with Tav having sex with, kissing or flirting with Halsin, as long as he is at no point forced to or pressured to physically participate himself.

Consider why every other character who is against a relationship with Halsin explicitly says so (for those of you who compare Astarion to Karlach, Karlach does explicitly say she is against it.) Consider how every single time Astarion is against something, with the exception of some events in Act 1, he explicitly says so. Consider how Astarion literally does bring up something that concerns him in that very conversation, and clearly states his concerns regarding his own sexual availability, but at no point even hints at being uncomfortable with Tav's romantic/sexual interests. And perhaps consider why you are so intent on having characters be "secretly against polyamory".

Because I will die on the hill that Astarion is a sex repulsed polyam sexual (possibly mono-romantic) pan gremlin of a man. edit to clarify: This post is about people who are insistent on that assumption, as in, refuse to accept that they may be mistaken, or that their assumption is exactly that, an assumption with no direct proof to support it. I don't mind people who headcanon, you live your life I'll live mine, I mind people who assume he's secretly against it, and then state that as fact and canon when it simply isn't, it's a headcanon, an assumption, a plot you would like to believe, NOT something established by direct canon evidence. If you prefer to read him as uncomfortable, that's fine and none of my business. If you prefer to read him as secretly strictly monogamous and either too insecure to speak up or doesn't realize it himself, that's fine and none of my business. Hell, if you draw fanart about it and write a whole ass 100 million word fanfic creating a whole new alternate universe which becomes more popular than the game itself, it's still fine and none of my business. But the second you speak your opinion and assert that it's fact, I have just as much a right to speak my opinion and tell you you're wrong.