For A Good Cause

@steddiemas day 19: Steddie as parents | WC: 1562 | Rating: G Read full list of tags on ao3

It’s for a good cause. It’s for a good cause. Do it for Claudia, it’s for a good cause.

Eddie had been repeating that to himself for two weeks. It was the only thing that got him through not only wearing the stifling red suit and beard but through the parade of kids. Sure, some were well-behaved, but then some were throwing a tantrum and others were terrified– he blamed it on the beard and not on the ring through Santa’s nose.

He was starting to question whether this was worth making Claudia happy, though, as he took a break to untangle a candy cane from his beard– and not for the first time. “They’ll never end, man. One wave leaves, another comes through five minutes later.” Jeff adjusted his prosthetic elf ears and put his hands on his hips. “Why are we doing this again?” “‘Cause Claudia asked us to and we can’t tell her no.” Eddie adjusted the fake belly beneath his shirt. “Because she’s a fucking angel who cooks for us.” Gareth kicked his legs where he sat perched up on the counter. “You mean you can’t tell Claudia no, and you asked us and we can’t tell you no.” Eddie grabbed scissors to cut the piece of candy cane out– he would just have to style around it, there was no untangling the sticky mess from whatever material the beard was made from. “Because you know I’ll kill you,” he said, grinning. 

Gareth flipped him off. “C’mon, Santa. Your adoring crowd awaits.”

The day only got worse from there. A set of twins threw a fit as their parents made them both see Santa at the same time– Eddie still wasn’t sure if they were mad that they didn’t each get their own turn or if they didn’t want to be there at all. Another kid pulled his beard down to reveal the fact that he wasn’t really Santa, which sent the next several kids in line into meltdowns that Eddie had to try to fix. 

With how busy they were the day should have passed by in a blur, but each kid just seemed to make the seconds drag out longer and longer. When they finally got through the last kid in line, Eddie was sticky and tired and beyond ready to go home. “That’s a wrap, folks,” he said as he stood and flipped the sign around to read “Santa is out” in Christmas red glitter. “Thank god.” Jeff shook his head and moved to remove his ears. “This was the longest fucking day of my life.” “Of your life? Did you have any kids sneeze directly on you?” Eddie asked. “No, I don’t think so. You had it easy. But now we can kick back, relax, and–” “Wait!” Eddie looked towards the voice and groaned softly. A man with chestnut hair was practically sprinting across the mall with a puffy pink bundle in his arms. “Wait, don’t leave–” “Oh, shit.” Jeff snapped his ears back into place as the man got closer. “Listen, buddy, Santa’s already out for the night, you’ll have to come back.” “Please, we’ve been to three other stores and all of the Santas were gone for the night,” he begged. “I promised that we would get to see Santa today. You wouldn’t make me break my promise to a kid, right?” Eddie had to give it to the guy, he knew how to play on the heartstrings. He turned with a sigh and stopped– he hadn’t been able to tell from far away, but the man was fucking beautiful. He had beautiful golden skin dotted with moles that Eddie found himself very much wanting to map like goddamn constellations, the warmest brown eyes made even bigger by the round frame glasses. 

The guy was talking to him. Eddie could see those beautiful lips moving, the guy was looking at him, clearly he was addressing Eddie, who had been so busy staring that he hadn’t processed a single goddamn word in at least the last thirty seconds. “Huh?” he asked. The man smiled a little and gestured to the pink bundle– which had moved and pushed her hood down, revealing those same wide eyes, looking at him with all the hope in the world. “Think you can squeeze one more kid in? I would owe you big time…” God, that crooked smile was like a punch to Eddie’s stomach. He would burn the mall down if he could get another smile like that. Eddie adjusted his hat, turned on his heel, and walked back to the throne. “What kind of Santa would I be if I said no to a request like that? Let them through!” Gareth watched Eddie with confusion and then delight. “Right this way!” he said, and he moved the velvet rope so the little girl could be carried through. 

Her big eyes glowed with wonder as she took in the glittering piles of snow and the decorated trees that were set up behind the throne. “Daddy, so p’etty,” she said. Her gloved hands, which had been clinging to her dad’s shirt, loosened up, and she began squirming in his arms. “Down, Daddy, I wanna see Santa!” “Okay, okay!” He laughed and put her down, so she could do the toddler run the rest of the way to the chair. “Hello, little girl!” Eddie said with his big, booming Santa voice as he helped her up onto his lap. “I’m so glad you made it! I was waiting around just for you!” “You were?” she asked, awed – though her r made more of a w sound. “Yous not the weal Santa, how did you know?” “You bet I was!” Eddie smiled at her, then up at her dad. “Has your dad here explained how mall Santas work?” When she nodded her head, making her little pigtails bounce, he smiled all the wider. “Then you know I’m not the real Santa, but I work for the real Santa. And he told me that a pretty little girl and her handsome daddy were going to be a little late, but that I needed to stick around because that little girl is on the nice list.” She gasped. “I am?” “What’s your name?” Eddie asked her. “Ashwey Hawwington,” she said. “And hims my daddy, Steve.” It sounded more like Steef, the way she said it. “Then yes, I was waiting for you!” Eddie booped her nose with his finger, making her giggle. “The real Santa told me that you’ve been a very good girl this year. Is he right?” “Yes!” Ashley nodded enthusiastically. “I was vewy good.” “Is that right, dad?” Eddie turned to Steve, who looked like he was ready to melt as he watched them. “Yeah.” Steve rested his hands on his hips and gave a warm smile. “She’s been a really good girl this year.” 

“See? I towd you.” Ashley wiggled excitedly. “So Santa’s gonna bwing me a pwesent?” she asked. “It sounds like it!” Eddie smiled at her. “Why don’t you tell me what you want, and I’ll make sure Santa knows about it?”

Her face lit up and she clapped her hands. “I want a kitty!” “A kitty?” Eddie looked towards Steve again for a moment. “Have you been good enough to get a kitty?” “Yeah!” she said. “I only weaved my toys out a few times, an I didn’t cwy when Daddy taked me to school. I was good!” Eddie and Steve laughed together at her insistence. “We’ll make sure Santa knows, okay?” 

“Okay.” She hugged him tight, then made to wriggle out of his arms. “Wait– don’t you have something to say to Santa?” Steve asked. “And don’t you want a picture?” “Oh yeah!” Ashley grinned wide at where Jeff held the camera. Eddie wasn’t sure what was more precious, the gap on the bottom row of her teeth, the way her parka absolutely swallowed her up, or the way Steve watched her with clear adoration on his face. 

Picture taken and candy cane given, Ashley hugged Eddie and gave a rushed “thank you!” before running back to her daddy. Steve scooped her up and smiled at Eddie again. “Uh– thanks. You made her night,” he said. “I was happy to do it.” Eddie smiled at her as she tore into the candy cane wrapper. “It’s not often I get a direct request like that from the big guy up north.” 

Steve grinned and adjusted his grip on Ashley. “I guess me and the big guy both owe you one.” He reached out, offering Eddie his hand to shake. “Maybe I can make it up to you sometime.” Eddie gave his hand a quick shake, and when the handshake broke he was left with a scrap of paper in his palm. “See you around, Santa.” Steve winked, turned, and made his way towards the mall entrance. Eddie was so busy watching Steve leave (and, frankly, having thoughts that would get him put on the naughty list) that he nearly forgot about the paper. When he unfolded it, there was a phone number and Steve. It had clearly been written hastily– Eddie wasn’t even sure when he’d stopped watching Ashley long enough to write it at all. 

“What’s that?” Jeff asked. Eddie tucked the slip of paper away and headed for the backroom. “My Christmas bonus.” 

Dividers and banner by @cafekitsune ❤️

Kim'dael/Aaravos : 6

Ship + kiss writing challenge

6: A kiss on a falling tear

Thank you so much for this one 🤍

The night has fallen on the ruins of Elarion, slowly putting the burned city to sleep. Despite the comfort of the darkness, Kim'dael kept herself hidden under the dark cloak that protected her from sunlight during the day and the prying eyes of humans and elves who watched her with horror when they passed her on the road. 

She, who used to be the pride of Silvergrove and the entire Moonshadow race was now an outcast, an exile, a blemish. All she had wanted was to do the right thing, but no one understood her. They said her magic was no different from the cruel tricks used by powerless humans but Kim'dael knew it was more than that, for blood was the true essence of life.

For two years Kim'dael had been wandering Xadian lands, searching for a new purpose and cultivating her magic. She found herself at the headland by the Sea of the Castout, a place fitting for someone like her. 

Her steps carried her through the dead city covered in ashes and dust. She knew it used to be a great city once, immortalized in many books and poems that lived on when Elarion was no more. No one would write poems about someone like her. Despite her greatness, Kim'dael could only become a grim tale, not a heroine who'd saved Silvergrove from a mass attack by the human mages. Everyone would always remember her as a bloodthirsty mage, not a saviour. 

She was tired, so, so tired.

About an hour later, she'd reached the outskirts of the ancient city. She could hear the sound of the waves crashing against the nearby shore. She pulled off her hood and let the salty breeze wash over her. Only then did she hear another distant sound: trees rustling in the wind, idle voices laughing. 

Kim'dael sighed. It was all her imagination, her loneliness driving her to the edge of insanity where she imagined voices in this abandoned city. 

"Come closer," 

Kim'dael heard a voice in the back of her head. She turned around to see a small group of trees not too far away from her. There was a faint light glowing somewhere between them, calling her like a moth to the moonlight. 

"Come,"

It beckoned her again and she listened.

She stepped into a space filled with short trees. Even in the dark, she could see that they were heavy with fruit, but those fruits were unlike anything she'd seen before. They were small, round and red, like a heart torn out from a chest. She wondered what they tasted like.

"Come closer," The voice called, but this time it reached her ears directly. Kim'dael turned to the side and to her utmost surprise, she saw two figures in front of her, one of them sitting on a fallen trunk and watching the other sleep on the ground by a small fire. Sensing no danger, she approached them to realize that one of them was an elf, his skin glistening in the warm hue. The other one, shockingly, was a young human girl, sleeping so deeply that she didn't even stir when Kim'dael walked closer. She couldn't believe her own eyes.

"Here, join us," said the elf and gestured at the free space on the other side of the trunk. Kim'dael took it, still too shocked to fully believe in a genuine act of kindness coming from this stranger. 

"Who are you?" Kim'dael asked, her voice hoarse and strained after weeks of silence.

"We are outcasts," the elf sighed. Upon a closer look, Kim'dael could see stars of all shapes and sizes on his skin, mirroring the distant sky above them. Startouch elves are extinct, she thought. 

"I'm an outcast too. My people… they banished me because I saved them with magic unknown to elfkind before," Kim'dael explained, feeling her throat tightening when more painful memories flowed into her head. "I saved them…."

"And yet, they refused to understand you," the Startouch elf spoke softly. "You've done so much and all they did was condemn you. I know how you feel," He said, reaching the depths of Kim'dael's heart with his words. Before she knew it, hot tears were trailing down her cheeks.

"I-I just wanted to do the right thing…" Kim'dael sobbed, her body practically trembling with all the pain and misery that washed over her. Finally, someone understood her. Finally, she was no longer alone. "I found a way, a magic stronger than Moonshadow illusions, I-" Her voice broke and soon she was howling like a wounded animal, letting her emotions come out to the surface after two years of suppressing them. It felt like she was bleeding out.

The other elf moved closer, his warm body pressed against her side. "Shhhh…." He tried to soothe her and wrapped her in his arms where she continued sobbing like she'd never done before. The human girl mumbled something in her sleep and turned to the other side. 

"One day they will realize the mistake they've made," The elf whispered, placing his star-touched palm on Kim'dael's scarred cheek to make her look up and when she did, Moon and shadows knew that she was lost in the gold of his eyes. She felt him press his lips to hers, a chaste kiss that was gone too soon but instantly worked to calm her down and ground her right at this moment. 

Kim'dael closed her eyes and breathed, in the arms of a stranger who felt more familiar than anyone before and she knew her journey was over.

A quick portrait for Mavra to use as an Icon  -*minor edits

I have been working on this project for at least two months, and it’s finally done!

...

*done enough

A reference sheet for the majority of the outfits (admittedly some with only minor variation) that Novhen wears throughout his career as protagonist. What do any of the backs of these outfits looks like? Doesn’t matter. Frequent reuse of certain articles between outfits, but how much fabric can you expect reasonably a guy to own, especially since a third of these are while on the run from the law?

This is mostly for my own reference and subject to change at any time

Item descriptions, mostly following Inquisition’s armor system but with the descriptions and “Clothing” category of Origins 

Commoner’s Clothes: These are well-worn clothes in the popular fashion of the Denerim Alienage. They are a slightly higher quality fabric than most elves can afford but still rough to the touch.  Clothing

Wedding Attire: These finely embroidered wedding clothes were passed down to Novhen by his father as they were passed down by his father before him. They smell faintly of lavender. Clothing (Not taken to Ostagar)

Servant’s Tunic: In the name of haste, a tunic designating servants of the Arl of Denerim has been tossed over wedding attire. It should be enough to fool the majority of guardsmen, who pay little attention to the elves around them. Clothing

Conscript’s Armor: This is a makeshift set of armor assembled on the road to Ostagar.  Medium Armor (Replaced by Warden Scout Armor before Battle of Ostagar; Not able to be retrieved after battle)

Warden Scout Armor: Grey Warden armor is modular and designed to be easily donned and doffed by its wearer unassisted. This set sacrifices protection for stealth. Medium Armor

Fugitive’s Clothes: These are clothes salvaged from the chaos following the doomed Battle of Ostagar. The sleeves have been embroidered to add a touch of elven style. Clothing

Fugitive’s Armor: This is armor salvaged from the chaos following the doomed Battle of Ostagar. The chestpiece had to be laboriously tailored to adequately fit Novhen’s frame. Medium Armor

Dark Wolf Jerkin: This dark armor is believed to belong to the most notorious thief in Denerim. From the corner of the eye, it is appears more shadow than material. Medium Armor, Elf-trained Only

Fur-Lined Coat: These warm, practical clothes are perfectly fit to handle Ferelden's frigid winters.  Medium Armor

Other details

Adaia’s Boots: The last gift Adaia gave to her only son, saved for his wedding day.

Chest Scar: A large injury sustained during by Novhen from a slash by the archdemon that tore the leather straps of his breastplate. Through healing magic and the greatest medical knowledge Ferelden has to offer (and perhaps a something special to Grey Warden physiology), he was able to shoot his bow again within five months, a feat otherwise unimaginable.

Ear Nick: In his final confrontation with Vaughan, the shem got one hit on Novhen before his own death.

Eyes: To outsiders to the Order, the most obvious sign of the Grey Warden is their eerie silver eyes, more closely resembling those of a victim of the Blight than any natural gray. A visual manifestation of the consequences of the Joining.

Fen’Harelist Cord: There is a custom among worshipers of Fen’Harel to wear a chewed cord somewhere on the person in reference to the story of Fen’Harel and the Tree. After his hair grows out, Novhen usually uses his cord to tie it back.

Foot Wrappings: Traditional elven footwear. Worn when neither style nor utility is in high demand.

Kaddis: A pungent, white warpaint Novhen wears unless confident there will be no battle.

Warden Scout Hood: A standard-issue Grey Warden cowl.

Regulus Black is Skull De Mort (P1)

A time-travel fic where after the arcobaleno curse is broken and (the still growing into their adult bodies) 10-year-old arcobalenos are flung into the past, replacing their past selves.

Except, knowing Voldemort is defeated by Harry Potter, 10-year-old Regulus (but really decades old Skull) runs from home upon Sirius leaving for his first year at Hogwarts to track down the rest of the Acrobalenos. Cue Viper and Skull revealing that the former is a squib (because ?!) and the latter is forced to reveal that he is not really a cowardly civilian but Regulus Black, a wizard, because he is really stubborn on preventing Sirius' death and he doesn't care that he has to change the timeline if he has to.

Cue...

Regulus/Skull dragging the strongest seven into Hogwarts by falsifying their magical level in order to get acceptance

Viper having a heart attack by Skull using his flames to multiply wizarding currency for the group

Reborn tailoring his robes to be a suit and refusing the ugly pointed hat for his fedora instead, Verde doing the same for a lab coat version, Fon and Lal uncaring about it aside from its lack of efficiency in movement, Colonnello thinking it's cool and ripping it by accident on the first day, Viper customizing it with a hood, and Skull making sure it's purple in colour

Regulus/Skull giving both Sirius and the Marauders a shock by appearing on the platform 9 3/4 after a year of running away from home and being missing only to return dressed entirely in purple and 6 odd friends with none of them being pure blood or halfboods except for one squib

The Acrobalenos making bets on their houses and threatening the sorting hat to put a certain member into a certain house because they have their money riding on this

Skull/Regulus standing up and openly threatening everyone in Hogwarts on the very first day that if anyone tried to lay a hand on any one of the six acrobalenos associated with him, they'll be ending up in the hospital for the second time (the first time by the acrobaleno they had offended/fought)

Reborn and Skull redecorating the Slytherin dorm/common room (also kicking out their other roommates into the common room) because Reborn is unimpressed by the dungeons and refuses to live in anything that doesn't fit his eccentric extravagant tastes and Skull is the same even if they both have completely opposing eccentric interior aesthetics (reborn threatens to kick skull out and to keep the room for himself but never does because he is a softie but he refuses to admit it, so they decided on a silver and black theme with traces of golden yellow and purple) but where did they get the furniture and paint from ???

the strongest seven discarding their house colours because Fon might be a Hufflepuff but yellow is not his colour, neither is a huge amount of bright red on Lal and blue on Verde's clashing green hair is a horror that Reborn still laughs out loud about to Verde's ire

their animal companions chilling around the castle (Oodako usually chilling in the lake) and Leon nearly eating Professor McGonagall as a cat but Reborn assures her that it's because Leon mistaken her as a threat and it won't happen again soon

Colonello's falcon Falco becoming the unfortunate mail deliverer for the acrobaleno

Reborn relentlessly flirting with both professor McGonagall and Lily but still acting like a gentleman to James' annoyance

Skull and Colonnello keeping their traditional Mafia Land annual invasion with Skull blackmailing his Slytherin House (and threatening them if they do anything outside of his permission) into invading Gryffindor House to lay out traps that triggers pranks into their dorms and Colonnello trying to find a way to defend his house by bullying the rest of his housemates into military training as if they were soliders and not his fellow students

The seven of them all speaking in a mix of italian, english, and japanese (and the occasional mind telepathy link by Viper) to the rest of Hogwarts confusion (especially Sirius, because since when did Regulus speak Italian, American English, Japanese, and Russian?? How did he get such a perfect accent in less than a year)

Reborn regularly stepping on people's robes in front of him to see them yelp and fall backward on their butts between classes

Reborn regularly watching people (but really the first years) try to climb up the moving stairs and finding it hilarious

Reborn guiding first years to their classroom in the wrong directions to generally mess with them before telling them how to get to their class correctly

Skull and Reborn regularly creating a commotion during meal time because Skull shrieks really annoying into his ear and Reborn responds by threatening him with bodily harm

Skull/Regulus trying out for Seeker once again and deciding to pull off stunts in mid air that leaves EVERYONE on the field having a heart attack

Lal and Colonnello trying out for it too only for Colonnello to get whack off of his broom by a bludger thrown by Lal who yells he needs more training to work on his reflexes in mid-air on a flying broom against a flying projectile

Fon trying out too because he thinks it seem fun but ultimately being unable to play because Reborn made one taunt at him about his lack of flying broom talent and a pissed Fon whack a bludger outside of Hogwarts with his incredible arm strength, broke the bat with the sheer force of hitting the bludger which came flying back to smack Reborn right in the face that lead to Skull wheezing in laughter as he fell off his broom and landed on a broken nose Reborn

Lal mastering the ability to cast hexes from Skull first out of the group but still instinctively whipping out the gun from under her robe to people's faces as a reply which Reborn and Colonnello also does but Colonnello has yet to master the ability to effortlessly carry guns on his body without being caught and has to carry a new rifle on him each time it gets confiscated by a professor

Verde and Reborn refusing to call the professors "professor" because they don't have their PhD, and insisting that they should be "professor" because at least they know how to do science and math and takes to mockingly calling each other "professor Reborn" and "professor Verde" while calling teachers by their first names

Reborn criticizing their teaching style and forcefully making himself the home tutors of the younger students in his house with Skull making sure he doesn't drive them to an early death

Verde being stubborn about the existence of magic and trying to use science to explain everything, Reborn actually agreeing with him but also loves to antagonize him by pointing out the existence of Dying Will Flames, while Skull state that it's both science and magic because he uses physics in his stunt works and potion is essentially chemistry and the other not caring

Verde and Viper being scandalized at the lack of internet nd technologies in this ancient castle and being determine to set one up with Viper selling access to muggle born and half-blood students

Verde, Reborn, and Skull being the nerds to the jocks in their group (Colonnello, Lal, Fon, also Skull) and their one goth (Viper) as the three nerds aims for the top spot in their year (Verde selectively aiming for potions and arithmetic)

Viper setting up a complex network of informants from inside every House and somehow getting blackmail material on every authority member in Hogwarts and the Ministry

Reborn intimidating the house elves into giving him fresh coffee in the morning and Skull shrieking in his ear about his mean treatment and forcing the hitman to grudgingly apologize to them

Regulus/Skull deciding to start a riot for campaigning House Elf's rights and roping the rest of the Acrobalenos in it even though Colonnello is a little freak out about the house elves, Reborn is in it for the sake of chaos, Fon is the polite one about it, and the rest don't really care but someone made a comment about Lal and now she's in it to destroy some bitch

Skull making Reborn use his reptile/bug speaking ability to open the chamber of secrets and neglecting to tell them about the gigantic basilisk living there until Reborn is hissing at the gigantic reptile challenging it to try and kill him as he is the world's greatest hitman, Lal and Colonnello is shooting and yelling at the thing to die for already, Fon is wrestling the end of the basilisk into place with his superhuman strength, Verde is rapidly shouting out logical ways on how to kill it from the top of his lung, Viper is yelling at them not look at it in the eye unless they want to die, and an eye-closed Skull is completely ignoring Verde's suggestion and clinging to top of the basilisk's head trying to blind the basilisk by either poking it in the eye with his wand or casting a spell

Verde immediately determine to do some tests on the dead basilisk and the Acrobalenos carrying basilisk venom on Skull's insistent in order to destroy the horcuxes in the future and Viper's warning them not to use it on anyone that annoy them

Viper selling the basilisk remains (after Verde takes enough samples to satisfy his experiments) and hording the profit from it

All of them promptly ditching their dorms to live in the chamber ignoring Reborn's grumbles of downgrading from a dungeon to an underground chamber as Skull and Verde immediately set on creating a secret staircase from the Hogwarts to the Chamber

Skull enchanting a motorcycle that he had somehow gotten which the group uses to pile up on and visit Hogsmeade on weekends/whenever they skip class

Friendly Conversation

Rating: Gen, General Audiences

Hunter meets Vee's friends. Turns out you're NOT supposed to remember everything people say? Wild.

Part 4 of Camila is Hunter’s Mom Now

Ao3

Hunter let himself get tugged along by Vee, his palisman perched on his other shoulder. He dug his heels in as he started to recognize the path they were taking. “Aren’t we getting a little close to the museum? What about Jacob?”

“Oh, he won’t bother us. He’s terrified of you.” Vee seemed to stop and think for a moment. “Come to think about it, he might be scared of me, now, too.”

“Do I want to know?”

“Probably not. Besides, it’s the closest green space to the house, so that’s where we agreed we’d meet up! They’ve been dying to meet you ever since I showed them pictures—”

Wait. What. “You have pictures of me?!”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, sometimes I snap candid shots when you’re not looking. They think your ears are neat, by the way.”

Hunter reached up under his hood to cover his ears, disturbing his palisman from its perch. “They know about my ears?! Are you trying to get us discovered?!” Red warbled chidingly at Vee, then settled on Hunter’s raised arm, its claws digging into the fabric of his hoodie.

Vee rubbed her arms. “Look, I… I know secret is safe. And it’s not like I’m planning on transforming in front of them or anything. But you… you can’t just change your appearance to fit in like I can. Luckily, you’re pretty much human, except for the ears. And we can just call those a birth defect. You can’t go around wearing hoods for the rest of your life.”

“Why not?” He had up until now—in the coven and out.

“Because it makes you look… suspicious? You should probably start practicing explaining your ears if you’re planning to stay in the human realm. Besides, if you want to stay inconspicuous, you prooooobably shouldn’t walk around with a live bird on your shoulder.”

Hunter scooped up his palisman, cupping the cardinal in his hands protectively. “Red stays.” His palisman gave him an affectionate peck on the thumb, chirping an agreement.

“Okay. Just… have a good explanation for it.”

“I do. It’s a service animal.” Red chirped an agreement and fluttered up to land on his head.

Vee wrinkled her nose. “A service animal, huh? Alright.” She waved to a group of teens hanging around the statue that Hunter just could not get over how much it looked like Belos. “Hey, guys! This is my brother, Hunter!”

A shiver ran down Hunter’s spine. He still wasn’t used to being called Vee’s brother. Or getting called “Noceda,” it was all so weird. But a good weird.

Vee’s friends all bobbed their heads in acknowledgement.

“Hey, Hunter. I’m Janea,” the redhead grinned, “Nice bird.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, whoa, hey!” The one in all black peered at his face, and he shuffled back. She knew—he didn’t know how, but she knew. “You have a gap tooth like me!” she said finally, “Gap-tooth buddies! My name’s Anissa, by the way, and that’s Steven.”

The guy nodded. “Sup.”

“I’ve never seen you before,” Anissa commented, “You’re not from around here, right?”

Hunter nodded. Perfect chance to practice his backstory. “Traveled a lot, until Ms. Noceda took me in.”

“Ooooo, mysterious backstory, I like it! Love your ears, by the way, are those natural?”

Hunter reached up under his hood, putting his hands over his ears. “Yeah.”

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed,” Janea piped up, “They’re cool!”

Hunter slowly lowered his hands. They really didn’t seem suspicious at all. Humans were… a lot dumber than he’d thought they’d be. “You think so?”

“Definitely,” Anissa chimed in, “I wish my ears looked like that—I have to settle for fake ones, though.”

The conversation moved on to aimless chatter about where to get fake… elf… ears? Hunter felt himself get pulled along in without really registering what was being said. It was a sort of… friendly noise? He nodded along, then forgot what they’d been talking about a few minutes ago after the topic of conversation had moved on.

That was a bit concerning. He had a memory like a steel trap—so what was going on?

“I have to go,” he piped up suddenly, “I have… things to do.”

“What, more algebra?” Vee teased.

“Ew!” Anissa yelped.

Hunter wrinkled his nose at Vee. “Yes, in fact. More algebra. It was… nice. To meet all of you. But I should go now.”

“Don’t be a stranger,” Janea called, “See you in school?”

He waved, wandering back to the house. “Luz!”

Luz poked her head down the stairs. “What?”

“What do you know about interdimensional travel and its effects on the witch brain?!”

“…What?”

“I can’t—I’m not remembering everything!”

Luz traipsed down the stairs. “So? I don’t remember everything. I forget a lot of things, actually. What was your name, again?”

He grabbed her shoulders. “Quit messing around. This is serious. I don’t forget things!”

“I’m sure you’ve forgotten things before. I mean… what did you have for breakfast three months ago to the day?”

“Nothing, I didn’t eat breakfast regularly three months ago, but that’s beside the point, the point is, I forget maybe some stuff, but I couldn’t remember what we were talking about five minutes ago, what if it was important—”

Luz wriggled out of his grasp and put her hands on his shoulders, gently pushing him back and down. “Hunter. Breathe. I don’t remember every conversation I’ve had with Willow or Gus. I remember the important stuff, but I don’t remember every single thing we ever talked about.”

Was she crazy? How had she kept friends this long? “But you should, right? I mean, if they’re important to you, you should remember everything they say, right? What if you suddenly need to know something they mentioned in a conversation five weeks ago, and you can’t remember it? What if they said something, and it seemed trivial, but it had a deeper meaning, and they want you to figure it out, but you can’t because you can’t remember what they said?”

Luz gave him a look that was bordering on concern. “Then I ask them—uh-oh, we’re unlocking a new trauma today, aren’t we? Okay. Hunter. You don’t have to remember everything everyone says. Your head will literally explode. No one expects you to, and especially not in friendly conversation. You’re supposed to forget half of what everyone says. If it’s important, you’ll remember it. Promise.”

Hunter’s head was swimming just thinking about it, thinking in circles. “But how will I know if it’s important?!”

Luz shrugged. “If you remember it, it was important. If you don’t remember it, it probably wasn’t.” The color drained from her face. “Wait. Have you been remembering every single conversation we’ve had here?”

Hunter tilted his head. “A couple days ago, you said that Amity has most of the portal ingredients, and she can probably make a portal back in the isles. You also said there was a monster behind me.”

“You weren’t even paying attention to me! You were solving algebraic formulas! How did you—beside the point. I want you to forget about the monster part.”

“What?”

“Forget about the monster part. It wasn’t important. The info you needed from that conversation is that Amity might be able to build a portal. You don’t need to remember that I said there was a monster behind you.”

What was this supposed to do? Hunter eyed Luz. Why did she want him to forget about the monster part? So she could do it again?

Luz caught the look. “I’m trying to help you figure out how to tell what’s important to remember and what isn’t. Amity can probably build portal—important! Luz said there was a monster behind you to get your attention—not important. Got it?”

“Mmmmkay.”

“Don’t worry about not remembering everything said. Seriously. Don’t. You’ll drive yourself crazy—if you aren’t already.”

Hunter stuck his tongue out. “I’m going to remember you said that.”

“Good, you should remember not to remember everything people say.”

Hunter crossed his arms with a grin. “No, I meant that you called me crazy.”

Luz groaned. “Hunter! That wasn’t the important part!”

The World is Changing

for the request: more nsfw galadriel/reader content? 👀

Summary: Galadriel travels to your world with you. And you introduce her to sex toys.

Characters: Galadriel x you

Word Count: 1,586

Warnings: SMUT. vibrators :) modern AU I guess? welcome to the sin bin

“That’s a microwave.”

“Fascinating.”

You snorted. Galadriel roamed about your home, touching and prodding unusual gadgets and unfamiliar items. 

She had jumped at the chance to come to Earth with you. Being one of the oldest beings in Middle Earth, there were few things that surprised her there, but here, amidst technology and modern culture, there were plenty of new experiences waiting.

She was wearing loose-fitted jeans that hung a little low on her hips. And when she reached up to one of your higher shelves, the knit sweater she had on rode up, revealing more gorgeous pale skin.

You salivated a little at the sight, but forced yourself back to the task at hand; making a decent meal for the both of you.

Her hair shimmered in the light of the setting sun. You offered her something to drink; she wanted to try one of those fizzy cans she’d seen you drink before.

Despite the childlike curiosity in her eyes, her body and demeanour still commanded nobility and respect like the Queen that she was. That quickly disappeared when she belched louder than you ever had, because of her idea to chug the sugary soda.

Dinner was grilled cheese, because you didn't feel like being original today, and you sat on the couch, eating, drinking, chatting. 

“Don’t you wish you’d gone to Valinor instead?” you asked her. “I mean, the Undying Lands, any place with a name like that sounds better than a world named after dirt.”

She chuckled, “one day I will. All Elves are destined to travel there. Our time in the mortal world always comes to an eventual close.”

Shuffling closer, she pulled your plate away and brushed her nose against your jaw, 

“But I wanted to experience something different before the end of all things. And you, meleth-nin, proved to be the most breath-taking change I could have hoped for.”

You squeaked as her lips sucked on a spot beneath your ear. She had a thing for ears.. maybe all Elves did. You couldn’t really think about it much as her malicious tongue swiped over your damp skin, making you shiver.

She pushed some pillows off the couch to make more room for her long legs  as she swung one over yours to straddle your lap. Your hands immediately roved over her ass, tight under the denim of her jeans. She squirmed a little in your hard grip, and kissed you on the mouth.

Your hips were starting to buck up, frustrated by the limitation of the clothes you were wearing. She gasped as you pushed up under her sweater, cupping her breasts- you had not yet introduced her to bras, mostly for the convenience of easy access when needed. Like right now.

You pulled your mouth away and trailed your lips down her neck, worrying your teeth along the column. Her body started rocking familiarly and your fingers tugged at her nipples.

“Fuck!”

Your body burst into flames. Galadriel barely ever swore, usually it was just you, but when she did, it was like an instant aphrodisiac.

Pulling away and tugging her sweater down, you held her ass firmly, making your eyes lock and you breathed,

“Bed.”

She was off your lap in a flash, her body thrumming with lust. You were nearly pulled off of your feet when she grabbed your hands and led you to the bedroom. Despite her slender figure, you were reminded of how strong she was, of the battles she had fought, and how somehow in some strange stroke of luck, this immortal Queen now desired you.

You successfully made it to the bedroom. She immediately wanted you naked, wanted to devour you, but you stopped her. 

“Take off your pants, and lay on the bed.”

She seemed startled by your command, but did as you asked. She pulled her hair out from the high pony tail she had been wearing, letting the long locks tumble down her shoulders, on the pillows. 

You returned with one of your favourite things to use in bed; a small, but extremely powerful vibrator. Her eyebrows furrowed at the strange shape and smooth texture as you showed her.

“This is a vibrator,” you showed her. “Do you wanna try it out?”

“Does it hurt?”

“No, but it may be a little intense the first time. I can show you, if you’d like. I’ll be gentle.”

Her breath hitched as you turned on the toy, the room filling with the low hum of the vibration. 

“And- where do you...”

“Wherever you want,” you replied sweetly. You pressed it to the side of her knee, and her jaw dropped a bit. Her legs fell open, giving you a clear view of the white panties you’d gotten her to wear. 

“If you wanna wear the jeans, please for the love of God wear underwear,” you had begged her, “that material is far too rough. You don’t want to chafe, I swear.”

Now you were exceptionally glad with your persuasion for her choice of wardrobe today, because her pale legs, her underwear barely showing, and the lovely soft sweater over her torso made her too beautiful for words.

“There’s plenty of other toys we can try, later,” you kept talking, pushing the vibe higher, pressing against the sensitive inside of her thighs. Her muscles tensed and her breathing sped up. 

“Y-yes,” she agreed, trying to maintain some sense of dignity as her resolve crumbled, “I-I think this will be sufficient for now.”

You grinned, flashing a smile at her which she weakly returned, and you took the opportunity to run it along the edge of her underwear, close to her clit, but not close enough.

The whine you received was like music.

“Th-thousands of years I’ve lived- a-and I’ve never-,” she choked out, hands scrabbling for purchase at the sheets underneath her heaving body. You avoided direct contact with her skin or her clit, wondering if you’d make her black out with how sensitively she was reacting to the toy. 

“This isn’t even the highest setting, baby,” you grinned, running it in slow circles over the hood of her clit. The panties she was wearing were soaked.

“T-turn it up higher,” she demanded. 

You paused. The only sounds were Galadriel’s gasps and the sound of the toy. 

“Are you sure?”

She pulled you closer by the back of your neck, mouth wide as she kissed you and devoured you, tongue licking into you. 

“Yes.”

You did as she asked, your own mind swimming with arousal, and her body began to tense, her gasps and groans going higher and higher in pitch as she neared orgasm.

Knowing she was close, you reached down with your other hand, pushed aside the panties enough for your fingers to slip through. You pressed inside, curled up and rubbed in that rough, delicious spot inside of her that made her scream, which she did.

Her body convulsed under your touch, thighs shaking as you held her down. One arm thrown over her face, gasping into the crook of her elbow. 

The Lady was sweating, her figure glimmering with a delicious sheen. You smiled wickedly as you tugged her arm away, revealing flushed cheeks and blown eyes. 

She pulled at your grip, wanting to hide her disheveled state, but you didn’t let her go, instead leaning forward and kissing her over and over. 

“Don’t pass out, please?” you begged her, watching her hooded eyes, “there's loads of other things we could try.”

“I don’t think I can handle any more of your world’s advancements,” she groaned, making you smile. 

“Then let me treat you with something a little more.. old-fashioned.”

You tugged her underwear off before she could protest, and nestled your face into her dripping cunt, licking up all of her juices and revelling in how sweet she smelled.

“O-oh, oh my,” she cried out, hands grabbing your hair as you feasted. 

You knew her libido was relentless; she’d pounced on you one or two times in  a way that made it clear she could be very sex-driven. So you pushed her to a second and third orgasm with ease, feeling her go limp and boneless by the time you finally finished licking her clean.

She was still wearing that adorable sweater, her long hair fanned out over your pillows, one leg pushed out far enough to dangle off of the edge of the bed.

She said something Elvish under her breath, body arching and trembling in the aftershocks. You urged her to sit up, tugged off the sweater, and she attacked your face with kisses, muttering sweet nothings, half of which you couldn’t understand.

Your body melted at her words nonetheless, filled with love and desire, and she never seemed to stop kissing you, 

“I may be the luckiest Elf alive,” she sighed, “who else has ever experienced such pleasure?”

Her words made you grin, because to you it was a simple, effective toy, but to her it was another world, another life entirely, something new and exciting. And you got to be the one to give it to her. The thought made your head spin.

You were sitting on the bed and she had crawled into your lap again, dipping her head low to kiss you, and her body began rocking against your thigh, signalling her need for more.

“Again?” you asked, turning up the vibe once more, and her eyes shone with mischief. She nodded, and you knew sleep was still a long way off for you.

A/N: this is basically like, polar opposite of my Hela/reader style of writing, and I don’t mind one bit :D hope u liked it my loves! wasn’t there something where CB had said Elves don’t wear underwear? Yeah I agree taglist: @the-obscurity​

HiJack AU - Rise of the Guardians Plotbunnies

(Context: Before Hiccup returns to HQ when the Guardian signal came up, he was spending time with Jack, as per usual. When the signal came up, he had to go. Jack looked disappointed, because Hiccup had just arrived a bare ten minutes ago. It was the quickest the Aide of Hope had to leave. Hiccup was in a rush to leave, since it was the first time in a long time that the urgent signal was put up to assemble all guardians at the same time, the last time was to report about what had happened to Kozmotis. In his rush, he wasn't thinking, and accidentally kissed Jack on the cheek in a parting kiss.

They were both shock.

Before Jack could collect himself to make a respond, Hiccup dashed off, all the while thinking "Shit shit shit shit shit what did I just DO?!)

More details added to the Answer (an ask from @hamish-fanfic-fangirl )already mentioned here

The Guardians love children, as they are the Guardians of Childhood. They can't, however, have children. With the exception of Kozmotis and Anastasia's relationship, as they were created together at the same time by Manny.

Manny formed Pitch to safeguard chaos energy that would strike fears in children and leave them traumatize, impeding a healthy and happy development of growing up. Anastasia was formed at the same time, because children, and to an extent people, need to live in a harmonize environment, right?

The Guardians do consider themselves, as what humans coined nowadays, as 'Found family.' Addition to that, they think if they could have kids, they would be like and be treated like their aides.

They joke about it sometimes; North fits the role of a dad, as leader of the Guardians, Thiana being like the mother, with Aster, Sandy, and Kozmotis like uncles. Sandy's the "cool" uncle with a lot of stories to tell (or show). Kozmotis is the "chill" uncle who leaves you be but offers sage wisdom whether or not you ask for them. Aster is the one who nags a lot, sometimes more than the parents but is exciting to spend time with because of all his cool tricks.

Jamie and Astrid found it awkward, but Thiana was being playful and pretending to be like a parent and giving Jamie 'the shovel talk', when Astrid and Jamie got together, as she heard a story told to her by North, from Jim.

She was sweet about it though, going on about how they should be caring of each other and how lovely it all was so Jim made a remark later that he didn't think the guardian of memories got the point of a 'Shovel talk'

Even to the aides that aren't their own, the Guardians do feel rather paternal/maternal towards them.

Dialogue

North: Sandy, thank you for coming.

Sandy descends from the plane and floats to the ground. He joins North, Bunny and Tooth as they walk through the Globe Room. Sand glyphs appear above Sandy's head communicating

Jamie: He says that he is busy and has a lot of work to do.

North: I understand, you work ‘round the clock, da, But I obviously wouldn't have called you all here unless it was serious.

North, Bunny, Tooth and Sandy reach the center of the room. Tooth does her best to shush her mini-fairies.

North: Kozmotis as the Boogeyman was here at the Pole. *points to the globe. The everyone turns to look.*

Astrid: *shocked* Sir Kozmotis? Here? After all this time...

Jamie: Jim, did you really see...

Jim: Well, I didn't but sir North had. I think, I... Wait. *frowning as he looked around in concern* Where's Dimitri?

Tooth: But... Pitch Black? Was it really him?

North: Yes! There was black sand covering the globe.

Aster: What, what...what do you mean black sand?

North: And then a shadow!                                                

Aster: Hold on, hold on, I thought you said you saw Pitch.

North: Well, ah, not exactly...

Aster: Not exactly? Can you believe this guy?

Bunny turns to Sandy, who shrugs while forming a Dreamsand question mark above his head....

Aster: Yeah, you said it, Sandy.

Bunny goes back to painting one of his Easter eggs.

North: Look, he is up to something very bad. *gropes his gut* I feel it, in my belly.

Aster: *eyes narrow* Hang on, hang on, you mean to say, you summoned me here THREE DAYS BEFORE EASTER - because of your? Mate, if I did this to you three days before Christmas-

Tooth (to her fairies): Argentina. Priority alert! A batch of bicuspids in Buenos Aires.  Weather advisory, Astrid?

Astrid: *Pauses* Fair, all of them. Snowstorm warning in Moscow.

Jamie: Maybe that's where Jack is now.

Jim: And maybe Hic too; would explain why he's running late... Now Dimitri...           

North grabs Bunny's painted egg, casually juggling it in his          hand as he walks off. Meanwhile Sandy, who is being served          eggnog by a yeti, suddenly notices something high above.         

North: Please. Bunny. Easter is not Christmas.

Aster: *sarcastic laugh* Here we go... North, I, I don't have time for           this. I've still got two million eggs to finish up.

The moon rises into view, high up in the ceiling; its rays of light begin to shine brightly through as they cascade down the walls of the globe room.

North: No matter how much you paint, is still egg!

Sandy points to the moon unsuccessfully to get the others' attention. Even Jamie is distracted with Jim and Astrid, talking about whether one of them (Jim) should go and get Dimitri. Their guardians are distracted and they didn't want to interrupt them...

Aster: Look, mate, I'm dealing with perishables. Right. You've got all year to prepare.                                                

Tooth (to her fairies): Pittsburg, boy eight, two molars. Saltwater taffy.

Sandy puts his fingers in his mouth to whistle, a silent musical note forming above his head.                                                

North (to Aster): Why are rabbits always so nervous.

Aster: And why are you always such a blowhard!                                  

Tooth (to her fairies): Ontario, sector nine: five canines, two molars, and fourteen incisors. Is that all in one house?

Sandy waves a sand flag above his head, pointing and jumping and down as the moonlight continues to fill the room.

North: Tooth! Can't you see we're trying to argue.

Tooth: *Good naturedly* Sorry, not all of us get to work one night a year. Am I right, Sandy?

Sandy tries to signal with a golden arrow, pointing toward the ceiling, but to no avail as the others continue their bickering. Sandy thinks Tooth has noticed for a split second, but then-    

Tooth (to her fairies): San Diego, sector two! Five incisors, a bicuspid and a really loose molar on stand-by.

North: I know it was him. We have serious situation!

Aster: Well, I've got a serious situation with some eggs.

Tooth: Hey, I hate to interrupt the, "We work so hard once a year club" but could we concentrate on the matter-

A silhouette comes out from a black spot of a shadow in the middle of the room, and Dimitri comes up and stumbles out from it. The aide of the former Guardian of Chaos seemed recovering from injuries. Even with his quick healing, it's taking some time...

Jim: Dimitri!

Jim rushes to help support him...

Tooth: Oh dear!

Astrid: Is he okay?

Dimitri: Sorry... The darkness is more restless than ever for some reasons. I had to defeat about a dozen minions before securing and leaving the base.

Jim: Wha- so if Pitch is really back, why hadn't he showed up here yet?

North: He did lad!

Jim: All due respect sir, you said it was a shadow.

North: Shadows are his thing!

Dimitri: I don't think that was Pitch yet, but a harbinger, maybe? If he had awoken, I think I would be the first to know.

Aster: Hah!

Sandy can't take it anymore, grabs an elf by his hat, and vigorously shakes it's bell. The other Guardians are finally silenced and all turn to look at Sandy, who points up, a sand crescent moon forming above his head. The dizzy elf staggers away. Finally the others turn to see the shaft of moonlight as it concentrates on the circle between them as Manny starts beaming down into the room...

North: Aah! Man in Moon! Sandy, why didn't you say something?

Sandy gives him a deadpan stare, Dream sand smoke shoots out his ears.                                                

North (to Man in Moon as he finally appears, with Anastasia by his side) : It's been a long time old friend! Madam Mother Nature *bows curtly*

Manny: Likewise.

Anastasia: A pleasure as always, North.

North: So... What is big news?

Manny: Before I get that, there is one thing I need to address first...

Everyone looks to the center of the room where Manny manipulates moonlight to shine down intensely, the light ebbs away, leaving a dark spot ---- which resolves into the shadowed silhouette of Pitch. The Guardians look on, stunned.                                                

Aster: It is Pitch.                                  

North pats his belly and gives Bunny a look...

North: Manny... what must we do?

Manny: The matter I mentioned needing to be addressed...

The shadow of Pitch disappears and the circle of moonlight intensifies and shrinks, concentrating further luminating an ornate symbol on the floor, at the center of their circle. The symbol rises out of the ground revealing a large gem at the head of a pillar.                                                

Tooth: Ah, guys, you know what this means?

The moons light suddenly refracts through the gem casting          light all over the chamber.                                                

North: He's choosing an aide for himself.

Aster: What?! You never needed one before, why now?

North: Must be big deal! Manny thinks we all need help!

Aster: We have our help. *Gestures to all aides present* Now if my own would show up too...                                               

Tooth: I wonder who it's gonna be?

Then a bright flash, a rush of wind- and a FIGURE resolves over the central pillar: slight, hooded, bearing a familiar  hooked staff.                                                

North:

North: Jack Frost.

The Mini-Teeth all sigh and swoon as the Guardians stand there, stunned.                                                

Jim: Well then, at least Hiccup's going to be happy

Astrid: *Shrugs, and idly shifts her axe from one hand to another* Well, as long as he does his part in caring for the children…

Tooth: And Hiccup’s going to be motivated more than ever now too.

Aster: Jack Frost!? He doesn't care about children! All he does is freeze water pipes and mess with my egg hunts. Right? He's an irresponsible, selfish...                                                

Manny: Aide.                            

Aster: I can tell you that Jack Frost is a lot of things, but he's--

Hiccup finally flies in with Toothless

Hiccup: I'm sorry I'm late! *He jumps down from Toothless* Snow storm in Moscow delayed me... Er, among other things...

Everyone looks at him

North: Perfect timing Hiccup! We need you to find Jack and bring him here.

Hiccup, remembering his final moments with Jack before leaving, looked mortified...

Hiccup: Do you guys hate me or something?

Promises You Made to Me

Chapter 3 out 3

Aragorn falls for Boromir on their journey. When they realize they share their affection, they also know that the time is not now to act upon them. Both promise to share love once they see the quest done, a promise that long seems a broken oath. Still, the horn was heard in more lands and the Elves have not yet forsaken this world

A Boromir lives AU where they fall in love before Boromir falls at Amon Hen, but Aragorn only learns of his survival after the defeat of Sauron.

On AO3.

Ships: Aragorn x Boromir

Warnings: grief, guilt and mentions of bad coping

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 3: But I’ll Walk with You, my Love

The battle was won, Middle Earth was saved. It was a time for celebration, but for Aragorn there was little to celebrate.

He was to take the throne that had been empty for thousands of years and the one person who should have been there to see it was not. He still did not know whether he would have proved himself if Boromir had lived, but he was confident in the final judgment of the man.

No, it was a promise dual made that ghosted his steps. Had Boromir lived, today would be the day they could have seen what happened to the spark that never got the chance to burn.

Aragorn wondered in sleepless nights if the spark would have survived the many hardships of the road or if they would have arrived here as friends. His heart told him that he could have never loved anyone like he had loved the Son of Gondor, yet he knew not for sure if Boromir would have felt the same.

Grief colored the white halls with black and gray. With wars passed and therebuilding barely started, the mourning he had not the mind to fully feel before, caught up to him.

The steadily recovering Faramir trailed his every move as next Steward in line now that his family line hinged on him. At Aragorn’s request, he told him many a tale of his youth, so that every hall was filled with a young, happy Boromir for Aragorn’s heart to ache for.

He walked through the courtyard where Boromir had told him of many restless nights where he walked alone over stone and Faramir had enlightened him to the annoying two little boys with wooden swords.

The White City breathed the life Boromir just as Boromir had lived and breathed Minas Tirith.

If this were to be his home till the end of his days, then he would have to learn to live with memories passed and new memories that could never be. His own would override Boromir’s and he feared that his presence might scrub Boromir’s soul out of his City.

That would be an impossible feat, he knew. The people of Gondor had not forgotten their other Steward’s Son and if Aragorn listened closely, he could hear his name among the people. Yet there was no monument for Gondor’s finest. Not yet.

He wanted to return to Amon Hen, to look for the Evenstar and signs of what had happened to Boromir, but he was bound by a duty he had long evaded and could not now abandon.

On the day of his coronation, the White City was adorned with happy folk and it was hard not to get infected with the pleased crowd around him. It was a trait of the City that had been reflected in Boromir, for his energy was infectious also.

“Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien. Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-metta,” he sang his oath to his people, trying his own Elven roots to his new life as King, before walking down the path created for him.

Legolas met him with a procession of Elves, many he recognized from his days in Rivendell. Arwen was noticeably absent and Aragorn mourned that he had missed her departure, yet Elrond’s presence was a welcome one. He did an Elvish greeting: “My Lord Elrond,” then he smiled, “Ada.”

Elrond smiled back and handed him the banner of the King. “Arwen made this for you, before she left. She believed in your Kingship and so do I. I am proud of you, Estel.” He hugged Aragorn and Aragorn leaned into the contact grateful for the support of Elrond. As he hugged, however, the Elven Lord whispered: “Look for the other Elven company traveling from the North.”

He could not ask what the Elf had meant, for the procession moved past him so that he continue and there was no time.

Later Elrond would say no more, claiming that it was not his role to enlighten him and that Aragorn should not get needlessly distracted from his duties as King. Still Aragorn looked to the North each morning, gazing into the distance as if it would bring him answers to questions not asked aloud.

He kept up the habit after Elrond left.

The rebuilding of Minas Tirith was steadily happening and Aragorn was feeling more at ease with his Kingly obligations. Gondor was returning to life after survival. Her former glory was being restored, silently Aragorn grieved for Boromir, who would not get to see her beauty again.

It was shortly after the final stones of the wall had been laid again and her gates were replaced that the Elven company appeared on the horizon as Aragorn looked North in the morn. They were dressed in cloaks of grey that signaled their origin lay in Lothlórien.

Aragorn was curious what the Lady of Light could bring to him that Elrond wished not to reveal to him. He donned the still slightly foreign clothes and descended down the levels, awaiting the arrival of the Elves on the plaza behind the gates.

The people, who saw him there bowed respectfully, but he heard the whispers of curiosity about his presence and that of the Elves.

When they had arrived over the path, it was already nearing mid day and Aragorn had not strayed from his post,ordering the gates to be opened. Silently the Elves rode into the White City. He faintly recognized some faces from his time spend there, but one remained hooded.

Only when the hooded figure slipped of his horse and came before him, did he look up. Slowly, he removed cloth hiding his face to reveal the ghost that had haunted him for so long had returned to life, for it was Boromir that greeted him, unsure smile on his face.

No hardship in his long-life could have prepared him for the mirage of emotions that washed of Aragorn in that moment.

His disbelief, happiness and anger warred inside his chest and he choked on his own spit as he searched for words. Why had Boromir not contacted him before? How had he lived? What did this mean for them both?

“Boromir.”

In the end he decided there was nothing else he could say, for all words had left him and none seemed fit for the moment. He pulled himinto his arms, crushing him so tightly he would be worried for the health of the other had he not been so occupied with hugging him, with proving he was real and not another shadow in his mind.

Two hands clutched tightly to the clothes on his back tying him to the now and when he breathed he could smell the forest of Lórien and the familiar scent of home comprised of sweat, metal and leather.

He had not known that he knew Boromir’s smell, but when it hit him he knew it was him and no one could have replaced him.

It was Boromir. Actual Boromir, here in his arms alive and well. He was not dead, but he was alive and Aragorn could not yet emotionally comprehend that Boromir was there, only that his heart felt too small for all that it felt.

“Hey, Aragorn, my King, no need for tears,” the soothing voice he knew so well whispered in his ear and it was only when Boromir cupped his face between his hands and wiped away the tears that he realized he’d even been crying.

The words did not help, only cemented more all that he felt and could not name. His crying turned into heaving sobs as he hugged Boromir tighter, as impossible at that seemed.

“You’re alive,” he replied after he had cried himself hoarse in Boromir’s arms, an obvious statement, yet still one that held so many mysteries.

“Aye, I am,” Boromir agreed. “Yet, I knew that not when we parted. It was a surprise for me too when I awoke. You saved me.”

He saved him. The words struck a chord in Aragorn’s soul. Since it had happened, he had blamed himself for letting Boromir die, for not doing more, for leaving him. Yet here he was, still alive and warm, telling him that it was he, who had saved him.

His knees buckled under him. A corner of his mind told him that as a King, he should not act like this in public, but that thought was squashed under the barrage of emotions and feelings that caught up to him and overwhelmed him as the world slid out of focus.

Boromir steadied him, having his back and being the person he could lean on as if he had never left his side. “I can tell you more later, but why don’t we get you seated for now? Would that be okay… love?”

The pet name snapped him back to the present. All the musings and doubts he’d had about the spark that had never left him, had wrapped itself in grief and fantasies that would never come and were clouded with memories young and old. But now Boromir was alive and it was not just his heart that beat for the them that had not yet been.

There was no time forfear or doubt to bubble up, for Boromir looked at him with those eyes and the pet name was so hesitantly said, because Boromir was also unsure of where they stood, he also did not know what they would do, just that he loved him and wanted it.

But they could figure that out together now.

They had a future and they could try to see if the they, he and Boromir had dreamed off could flourish in times of peace. A new age had dawned and they could meet it together.

Without thinking Aragorn kissed him.

Boromir’s beard was slightly longer and he felt his moustache like he hadn’t done before, but hislips were still slightly chapped and firm. Boromirrelaxed into the kiss quickly and was again the first to swipe his tongue across Aragorn’s lips.

Aragorn lost himself into the sensations he had often dreamed about, but could never fully recall again. Yet here was that same calloused hand cupping his cheek so gently and he felt as if he could survive without breath if he could live like this forever.

It was only when Boromir broke to kiss to catch their breath that they realized a crowd had gathered around them. The King and foreign company had enticed enough commotion, but the return of a hero from the dead was certainly notable, not to mention the emotional reunion between him and their King.

There were jeers and cheers all around them. Aragorn wanted to hide his face, knowing his cheeks would be tinted red and did so in Boromir’s shoulder. Yet the Son of Gondor was at ease around his people, accepting Aragorn’s hiding spot as he smiled and waved.

Word had spread fast through the City and before Aragorn could even think of moving away from the prying eyes, Faramir came running down, no horse just his own two legs that had carried him downwards from the Citadel to see the miraculous return.

Aragorn knew when Boromir had spotted him, because the one hand on his back left, so that he could greet Faramir with both: “Brother!”

Knowing when it was time to step back, Aragorn did. Though he did not stray far from Boromir’s side as he hugged his brother tightly. There were many emotions running high, yet instead of the gentleness he had displayed for Aragorn, to his brother Boromir jested: “What has become of Minas Tirith that the King would await me, but not her Steward.”

“A Minas Tirith where her King disappears without notice to await an unknown company, I would say,” Faramir grinned back without heat as Aragorn ducked his head. “It is good to see you, Boromir. We thought you dead. How did you live?”

“It is a long story and not one for telling on the front porch,” Boromir said, conscious of the crowd around them. “The Elves were a great help and healed me. That is the basics. Let us now drink something and eat. We have a long road behind us.”

Faramir was much better at the ways of the court, having grown up around them. He sprung into action, getting the Elves up the levels to accommodations, while Aragorn walked beside Boromir and his horse.

As they walked, Aragorn followed Boromir blindly, trusting Boromir to lead them home while in the distance the trumpets rang. He did not let his gaze wander away from his face, afraid he would disappear the moment he did.

There were a thousand questions he wanted to ask, a million things he wanted to tell him. Yet the only thing he said to Boromir suddenly was: “I am sorry.”

Boromir’s step faltered for a moment, before he looked at Aragorn with concerned confusion. Then he asked: “What for?” as if it was the most simple thing in the world. As if Aragorn had not spend sleepless nights musing all the things he had done wrong.

It must have shown on his face, for Boromir smiled at him. It was not his boisterous grin or proud smile, but a gentle one, one Aragorn had only seen in Lothlórien. “You did nothing you have to apologize for. It is I, who has to atone for what I did, yet my heart can not stop being selfish and hope to proclaim itself to be yours.”

“You have not to atone either,” Aragorn spoke fiercely. He had heard those desolate tones from Boromir once before and he would not let him speak like that again. “I meant what I said and this war has taken enough from all. We won. You played your part diligently and I will not have you tarnish your return to me by self-doubt that is undeserved. And you are not selfish, for if you are then so am I.”

“Huh,” said Boromir, “you are not the Ranger I parted with. The King I saw shining through form time to time has fully inhabited his glory. There is a confidence in your speech that was not there before.”

Aragorn was taken by surprise by the observation. He had known that he had changed through his harrowing journey to Minas Tirith and the Black Gate, but he was connected still to his past in such a manner that he had not divorced himself from the person Boromir knew. To have it pointed out to him, was strange.

Yet, Boromir was not the man he had left on Amon Hen either. His manner was proud, yes, but he had not the burdens that had forced him to be so. He was calmer and had gained some of the Elven pace in life that was familiar to Aragorn in a way the lively City was not.

It seemed both had adapted to the new circumstance they had found themselves in and in turn had gained something of the other.

Still, the Boromir of old was still to be found. His handsome face had stayed unchanged and as they walked he pointed out historical buildings along with places tied to himselfwith an enthusiasm that rivaled Merry talking of Old Toby. And every time Aragorn seemed to fumble, a hand was lend to him in aid.

Another thing that was old, but new sinceAragorn had never gotten to witness it,was Boromir amongst his people. And it was a sight to behold.

The people greeted him as a long lost friend that they held in high regard. He was not just their Lord and protector, but their faithful, friendly guard also. As they called out to him, he returned most by name. The observation Aragorn had first made of him, stayed true here. It was hard not to like Boromir and that was felt through all the streets.

Journeying to the Citadel from the gates lasted eternally long, but the time passed in a flash, until they were seated in Aragorn’s office, ready to hear the tale of Boromir’s survival.

“I recall little of the events themselves,” Boromir began. “Flashes and pieces stay with me, but the Elves told me most after I had awoken. I suppose I should start when we parted ways, Aragorn.” He gave him a look and Aragorn nodded.

“I only remember us talking, yet some of the words escape me. In my mind the only clear thing is your face, there are tears in your eyes and pain I cannot soothe,” said Boromir. “I tried, but I could not move to change it. The clearest words are you promising that the White City would not fall if you could stop it and me naming you my King.”

Aragorn remembered the moment clearly, remembered the three names Boromir assigned him there and the desperation he felt as he tried to give Boromir enough hope to cling to life. A moment he remembered failing in. “I remember that moment, my medicine was not enough to save you. You were fading under my hands and nothing I could do was helping.”

Faramir followed the conversation closely. Aragorn had only briefly told him of what happened at Amon Hen and his brother’s demise. Pippin and Frodo had also filled in some blanks, but he knew no more of the final moments of Boromir than what Aragorn had told him.

He had heard of the attempts made to save Boromir’s life, yet not of Boromir’s proclamation, nor the affection shared between them that he had seen today. Still, he had guessed it in the manner his King surrounded himself with the memory of Boromir.

Both listened closely to Boromir’s answer. “The Elves spoke of a Kingly command and an oath meant to be kept. They told me of the power that laid in the voice of the Kings of old. Oaths to them not kept, could bring unrivaled curses, while-”

“Curses?” asked Faramir.

“Isildur cursed the Dead Men of the Mountains to an enteral damnation of restlessness,” Aragorn said. “More instances have been recorded, but I do not see how that relates to you, Boromir.”

“For you two did not let me finish,” Boromir told them fondly. “The two of you jumping to your loreand questions.” At that, they all chuckled.

“A Kingly oath holds power and if a King cannot keep their word, then that is equal in its weight.” Boromir explained. “We had the luck that you told me: ‘I promise that I will try to see this quest through alive and keep you alive through it also.’ And did not say ‘try’ before my part as well. Words are a fickle things, such the Elves told me and I have learned. Meanings can be changed with intent.”

Aragorn remembered his outburst and filled in the blank. “I commanded you to live. I said that I promised to protect you and begged you to not make me an oath breaker.”

“Aye, that could have been what changed the words in the balance of the earth,” Boromir nodded after a moment of contemplation. “The Elves also said the athelas on my wounds kept me breathing until they arrived. It seemed you were not the only one, who came to the aid of Gondor when the horn was blown.”

“They transported you by boat,” Aragorn suddenly clicked the pieces together. “The horn of Gondor came to the water by hands of the Elves.”

“It has been found?” asked Boromir excitedly. “I thought it had been lost to the Orcs.”

“The horn has been found, brother,” said Faramir, “but it is cloven in two. We read it as an omen of your demise.”

“Oh,” Boromir said and Aragorn heard in that sound the guilt how something beyond his reach impacted his loved ones so. “And what of my bracers? They too disappeared.”

At that Aragorn blushed and he saw in the corner of his eye Faramir grin like a young soldier that he had only been with his brother. He nodded to Aragorn stealthily and Aragorn decided that his Steward should be more loyal than this.

“I took them,” he explained.

Boromir smiled in understanding – Aragorn loved how he got to know all the smiles his love held, now that there was again reason to smile – and fumbled under his tunic to reveal the Evenstar. “The stars of the Elves are not easily given away and I would not have it lost while under my care.”

Aragorn had no words for the affection that rushed about his heart in that moment. All he could find within himself to do, was to rush forwards and hug Boromir tightly. “Keep it safe forevermore?” he asked.

“Of course, my love,” Boromir whispered back.

They held one another like this, until a small cough from Faramir made them untangle quickly. Faramir smiled: “It is good to see you both happy. There is much I need to catch up on between you two it seems, but for now I am merely glad for you both. Still, I wish to hear more of the Elves and how you returned to us.”

“Ah, aye, of course,” said Boromir, bouncing back like a man used to getting up again. “As I stated before, I recall little. I slept for weeks, recovered tied to my bed for many more. The forest is fading, the Elves are leaving, still they cared for me until I could travel once moreand while I will never fully heal, it is so much more than I could have hoped for.”

“Never fully heal?” asked Faramir with a frown.

“Aye, my condition is not what it used to be and I feel the scars when the weather changes,” Boromir answered. “But enough about me. Many strange rumors have reached my ears when coming here, yet I know not which ones to believe. Tell me about your journey.”

First Farmir talked, he told Boromir of Minas Tirith every since he had left so many days ago. He told of the fall of Osgiliath, their father being poisoned by Sauron, the battle in the City and the rebuilding of the walls.

Boromir was quiet when he heard of their father’s fall from grace. There was pain in his eyes, yet also pity and understanding.

If history had been a little different, it would have been him, being consumed.

Aragorn took his hand. He did not care for the what-if’s of history when he had Boromir right here, untouched. He did not fall to the Ring and his own body then and Aragorn would not let him fall to his mind now.

He got a smile for his efforts, a real smile that made his eyes crinkle, as Boromir squeezed his hand. Aragorn did not yet know where they would go, but if life could be like this, then it was worth every hardship he had undergone.

They kept their fingers interlocked until Faramir was done telling himall hehad missed. Then it was up to Aragorn to fill in Boromir on all he had not witnessed of the Fellowship.

Where would be start? Would he start with how they fell apart? How Gandalf came back? Would Boromir know of that? Should he start with Rohan and Helm’s deep? Or with the march on the Black Gate and Frodo’s success?

“We went after Merry and Pippin,” he finally began at Boromir’s last mission. “Frodo was not meant for our help beyond that point and went with Sam to Mordor. Yet we could not abandon our Fellowship entirely. We crossed through Rohan to Fangorn forest in four days, yet we did not meet them again for a long time after.”

And so Aragorn told Boromir of their encounter with Éomer, Gandalf’s return, the poisoning of Théoden King, the fight of Helm’s deep and the Ents in Isengard where they were reunited with Merry and Pippin once more.

“I am glad the little ones did not make it to Isengard with those Orcs,” Boromir said. “Have they made it through the war unscathed?”

“All of the Fellowship survived, love,” Aragorn assured him. “Gimli and Legolas are traveling together now and the Hobbits have been escorted home by Gandalf himself. They are safe.”

Boromir’s was relieved at this news. Aragorn knew that it was because the Son of Gondor thought himself to be responsible of their failing as Fellowship and found he had failed the Hobbits at Amon Hen. It were demons Aragorn could not take away in a day.

“You should write them once you have rested,” Aragorn said. “Pippin especially missed you dearly as did Merry. Frodo and Sam had parted before they heard of your death, but would also love to hear of your return.”

“I do not think Frodo would wish to hear of me, Aragorn,” Boromir smirked lopsidedly, but there was no mirth to be found.

“He would. You cannot rest before you have heard of him and not confronting him will hurt the both of you,” Aragorn told him, deciding to be stubborn about this until Boromir had listened to him.

Boromir looked at Aragorn and the smirk morphed in to exasperation and fondness. “I will think of it, you stubborn man.” Aragorn smiled at that. “I think it comes with the City.”

He got an eyeroll for his cheek, before Boromir requested he’d tell him more. So, Aragorn continued of the ride to Gondor with the Rohirrim, their departure to the Dwimorberg and their dealing with the King of the Dead.

At that part Boromir shivered, yet found it within himself to joke: “I am glad I fell, for I would have followed you there and hated every moment.” A joke that fell flat for Aragorn and Faramir, who had not the mind to joke about Boromir’s recent return just yet.

Aragorn told him of the Seafarers coming from the South, making Boromir curse for a strategic move in a war already won. Still, he smiled once Aragorn told him of Gimli and Legolas’ squabble at the waterside.

The fight for Minas Tirith he kept brief, not wanting to linger on the horror’s of that day when they were just getting erased from the City, while being deeply ingrained in the psyche of her people.

He also did not waste many words on the days after, for he did not wish to answer again for the choices made about his health. He had heard it from Legolas, Gandalf and Elrond already and he knew Boromir would otherwise be added to the list.

Naturally he could not bespared the lecture that came from the revelation about his march on the Black Gate and the deciding hand he had played in the choice.

“I know it was foolish, Boromir,” Aragorn said. “And it was because it was foolish, it had to happen. Sauron had to think us cocky. He had to believe we would only try this with the Ring in our possession, for we needed to give Frodo and Same safe passage.”

“It was a strategically sound move, Boromir, no matter what your soldier instincts will tell you,” Faramir backed Aragorn up.

“Sam told me how the Eye suddenly moved off them and the lands streamed empty.” Aragorn recalled. “The sacrifices made that day were not made in vain. It was the last fight we fought against the Dark Lord.”

A hush fell over the room as all three thought over the last sentence.

It was a truth all had known, but none had really faced. Yet there it was, as a defense to an outrage to something rational that put loved ones into danger, even if it had already passed. They would no longer have to fight the Dark Lord.

“Huh,” Boromir said after the moment of silence. “That was sentence I never dreamed of hearing.”

They all snorted at that. What started out a small sound of humor soon turned into a joyous waterfall of relief and disbelief, until they were out of breath as they tried to straighten themselves, but kept bursting into laughter again.

“What a world we live that we can see the light after the cloud has passed,” said Faramir. “A new sun shines on all of us.”

“Aye, today is good and I hope there will be many more like it to remember,” Boromir agreed, toasting his mug of ale to what Faramir had said.

As they drank they caught up Boromir to the rebuilding efforts. The help from the Elves and the Dwarfsas well as the people themselves, who remade the White City into something transcended of her former glory.

“When my heart told me I would not see Minas Tirith as it was, I could not have hoped that it would be because it was restored to her former glory of the days of old,” smiled Boromir as he looked over the City from the window.

Aragorn looked over the City as well. Back then he wished he could have seen Minas Tirith through Boromir’s eyes, but his own eyes had found the wonders described to him by Boromir in his own ways.

He had seen the endurance and strength of men, not in the market places or on the lands and in the barracks, but in the tents where the houses were no more, among the nurses in the Houses of Healing and the ones tasked with clearing out the bodies.

He heard the love for their home as Boromir held it as they talked to him of their neighborhoods and needs. He saw it when they bowed their heads, before they rolled up their sleeves to work alongside him.

While he had not Boromir’s eyes to look at the City, he had his words to guide him to her beauty and see it for his own.

“Her beauty is truly unrivaled now,” Faramir agreed with his brother as he snapped Aragorn out of his musings. “Yet there is much to do still. The Lords of the Guilds have shown much understanding at the delay for Boromir’s return, but they will wish to meet you again soon, my King. I cannot give you more than today.”

Before today, Aragorn relished in his busy schedule that left little room for his mind to think, but with Boromir returned, he could not help but wish for a bit more time.

“I understand, Faramir,” Aragorn sighed. “Try to see if you can fit them in soon?”

“Of course, my King,” Faramir bowed and excused himself, as he left he patted Boromir on the shoulder, before Boromir hugged him. Faramir said: “Once the King is busy again, we will catch up more. I’ll leave you two now.”

When he had left, they sat there. For all Aragorn had wanted Boromir’s time and attention, now that he had it, he did not know what to do with it. In his mind, he was wrapped up in Boromir’s arms, head upon his chest to hear his heart beat steady. Yet he knew not if it was welcome and he floundered.

“It seems the skills of a Ranger served you well,” Boromir’s ability to remember details in conversation came up once more, as he recalled what had been said to him in Moria.

“Aye,” grinned Aragorn, “though some nobles do not know what to make of stillness that I have left of when I was observing prey and reading the signs. They think me unsettling.”

“They probably think you part Elven magician,” laughed Boromir, finding hilarity in Aragorn upsetting the stuffy nobles of his youth. “I hope Faramir keeps you from scaring them away completely.”

“He has been a great guide in the worlds of politics,” Aragorn said. “I hope you do not mind that he has taken your place in your absence. We knew not of your return back then.”

“I do not blame you at all, in fact I am quite happy with the decision,” Boromir replied. “He has always been much better at this part then I was, but back then we needed a Captain and that was my forte. I would wish for him to keep the position, if all are in agreement. I am not cut out for that work and I leave it in capable hands.”

“And what of I?” Aragorn asked, not wanting to know the answer, but also desperate to hear it. “Are my hands capable or was your declaration only the one of a dying man? You have not seen me as leader in battle, nor with your people or in negotiation. Would you make the same judgment now?”

“Aragorn,” Boromir took his hands and looked into his eyes intently, “I have never left my City in better hands.”

It was a confirmation, he hadn’t know he needed so much until he had gotten it. There was no one in this City he trusted to tell him how he was doing. So, having the one person he was trying to prove himself to, validate his work was liberating.

“Come here,” Boromir gesturedfor him to sit down next to him. “You do not have to be the King here unless you want to, Aragorn. Let us be a Ranger and a Solider, just for a moment.”

He did so gratefully, letting Boromir wrap him up in his strong arms and hide him from the world and his responsibilities for a while.

They sat in silence for many minutes, staring out of the window over the City. Aragorn was completely tucked into Boromir’s side, one leg over his and arms around his middle as Boromir leaned his head upon his.

“What will we do now?” Aragorn asked finally.

“About what, love?” asked Boromir in return.

“About us,” Aragorn clarified. “My heart has been heavy since our departure and I have not been able to let go of all I felt for you. I cannot express how much your return has lightened my spirit, but I cannot forget how I mourned you as a dead man.”

“There were many nights in Lothlórien where I too, did not know of your fate, but I always had the hope and belief you would make it,” Boromir replied. “I cannot begin to think of anyone ever taking the place you hold in my heart. We started as strangers before, Aragorn-love. I will not let time passed come between us after everything. If I have power to do so, I will do anything to get to know you again.”

“Let us start there then,” Aragorn smiled. “As strangers with a history and much love in our hearts. I too, will do anything in my power to keep you in my heart.”

“For that I am glad, though I hope that this time our strangers can involve more kissing then it did before. I missed you during our time apart.”

“Boromir the Bold is a well deserved name,” teased Aragorn as he leaned in, “but I will allow your transgression for speaking out of term against the King.”

The other leaned in as well and breathed on his lips: “Oh, so it is like that now? You’ve grown into your role too well, Lord Aragorn.”

He just hummed and awaited Boromir’s reply to that.

“Very well, my King.”

Aragorn had not the time to name him as future consort, thinking it too forwards until the moment had passed and his lips were already seized, taking all coherency from his mind.

Yet that did not matter, for they were not running to their doom and out of time. He had many years ahead of him to tell Boromir all he thought of him and wished for their future, for there now was a future they could work towards.

Like their lands, there was still much to heal and rebuild. Much that was old that was no more and much that was new yetto be discovered. And that was part of the journey they willingly went on, since it was the way to arrive at where they wished to go.

Not that any of that mattered to Aragorn now, with Boromir’s lips pressed against his own. He was far away from this Kingdom, only present in the bubble of him and Boromir, existing alongside each other.

Tomorrow they would see where this new road would lead them. Tomorrow they would start to heal and relearn what it meant to be them in this new context.

For now they were Aragorn and Boromir, who had met each other and were begrudging traveling companions. Back then they had just watched one another mesmerized yet confused by what they saw and felt.

Here they had so much more questions and a thousand extra answers.

Aragorn could not have known where the road from Rivendell hadtaken him, but it was a road he would gladly walk again if it meant it would end like this. Back then it had merely been hard not to like Boromir and now Aragorn was forever grateful for the moment he had first laid his eyes upon the Son of Gondor.

~~

A/N:

Btw, I want y’all to know that this was my outline for this fic: confess lothlorien > fight anduin > thinks boro dead > in gondor see burdens for him that boro was carrying > more guilt > boro alive yay

I love Arwen, okay. I am a gay bitch and I watched her be badass on a horse at an impressionable age, okay. I love her. I could not find a way to integrate her into the story. I did not say that last time, but yeah. Sorry. She chilled in the undying land and had a great time. (maybe became a hot lesbian bc she deserved that, got a hot gf)

Also I am very emo for the idea that all the choices Aragorn made, in the end worked towards Boromir living. Boromir was such a symbol for how he failed Gondor and to have him succeed by making the right choices and getting Boromir back through them as well makes me very uwu

Btw, rip to Faramir for third wheeling their flirting lmao

Extra:

Ar: “I almost send you down the river in a boat as burial”

Bo: “I’m very glad u didn’t, bc that would have been awkward.”

But also the emotional impact of the guilt he felt for Boromir’s send off being taken from his shoulders because if he had done anything different, he would have been the one to kill Boromir, so he actually did the right thing where he thought he had made yet another mistake

heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey who wants a one shot fic that I wrote for daughter of the lilies by the awesome meg syv, aka bludragongal who I’m not gonna actually tag here bc I’ve tagged her in half a billion posts already ,, 

the fic is titled ‘saving face’ because I love me some puns

‘Eugh, snow… I hate it, I hate it I hate it I hate being cold…’ Lyra was sitting as close to the fire Thistle had started as she could without being burned. 

‘Hey, are snowstorms a thing? Like magic storms, but snow?’ Thistle asked. Everyone was quiet for a while. 

‘Don’t know. Probably, but hope not. Anyway, cave is goot place to trap heat. Glad ve found. Also glad Thistle can make voodless fire. But vhy only now bring up?’

‘Beceause most places we camp chalk won’t stay on the ground, so it wouldn’t work anyway. It’s complicated, too. I don’t remember half the runes. And you can’t write ‘em down without setting the paper on fire.’

‘Then… how did you get it to work?’ Brent asked.

‘Muscle memory. I couldn’t teach someone how to do it, but I could draw it out with my eyes closed if I needed to. When I was a kid, every fireplace in the house used these. The kitchen, too.’ 

‘You vere raised by mage? Is that vhy you not go to magic school?’ 

… Oops.

‘Er… yeah.’

‘Hrm. Explains vhy you so goot.’ 

‘Ooooooh, backstory!!!!’ Lyra teased. ‘You’ve said your dad didn’t like animals, and apparently he’s a mage. What else do we know? I need to start taking notes.’

‘Hey, cut it out.’ Brent ‘gently’ punched her in the shoulder. Didn’t seem like he meant it, though. 

There was a noise like the clattering of a rock. 

The fire went out. 

Something whistled in the air. Thistle leaped to her feet at the same time that everyone else dropped like flies. 

‘What the--’

Behind her were five cave elves.

Her teammates were unconscious, and there was some sort of antimagic that put out the fire… and rendered her defenseless. 

Claws cut through the air. The cave elves expressed confusion when she dodged the blow. Thistle went for Brent’s discarded sword. 

They clearly hadn’t been expecting for her to be able to see in the dark. 

They seemed to get over that surprise quickly. 

One of them said something, and the others backed away. Did he want a one-on-one fight? 

Apparently.

Despite not knowing how to use it, Thistle was at an advantage with a weapon. Even so, she was still on the defensive. She dodged more than a few attempts at disarming her. 

Did cave elves have some sort of honor-duel system? Was that a thing? Would they be left alone if she won this fight? Was it to the death? Not like she could ask, between the language barrier and being preoccupied with combat. 

Out of the corner of her eye she saw one of the other four standing over Lyra, a fist raised, ready to concuss her.

Oh, so this was a distraction. 

She flipped like a switch.

‘rrrrRRRRAAAAAAAGGHH!!!!!’ Thistle took a powerful, haphazard swing at the dueling elf. His surprise earned him a shallow slash on his leg. 

You don’t get killed by being careful, she heard Gwen scold her. You get killed by being reckless. 

Yeah, well, she had no magic and was outnumbered five to one. No amount of careful could save someone from that. Might as well do something. 

With another roar she rushed at the other one, who immediately jumped back so as to avoid being skewered. 

A phwt! through the air and something stung her in the neck. She picked it out. It was a dart. Paralytic poison, by the feel of it. Would put someone out of commission just long enough to knock them unconscious. Good thing it wouldn’t affect her. 

Thistle chased another elf away from Brent and turned toward two that had just now stopped arguing over how to handle Orrig. She stepped forward. Something swept her feet out from under her. 

‘GAH!’ 

In an effort not to land on the blade, she tossed it aside with both hands. Which meant she could not catch her fall. Thistle hit the ground face-first. She tasted blood.

It was hard to get any air without inhaling blood. But Thistle was saved from the effort of trying. She choked as one of the cave elves pulled her up from the ground by her hood. 

And then dropped her. She landed hard on her knees, and fell into a coughing fit trying to catch her breath. She barely heard the cave elves panicking amongst themselves and running away. 

~~POV switch~~

The fire went out.

He couldn’t move. 

‘What the--’ 

Foreign chatter, the swing of steel, the sounds of struggle. Something was here, and Thistle was fighting it, alone, not using magic. If he had to guess, the talking sounded almost like the two cave elves that took a bite out of his arm a few months ago. 

He heard Thistle let out a scream of pure fury. Damn. He’d seen her angry before, but he was very glad that this wasn’t directed at him. 

He was starting to regain movement when he heard a yelp, followed immediately by a sickening crunch. Brent managed to remove the poison dart from his shoulder. Gods, this was like the cave elf job. Thistle was hurt, and he couldn’t do shit to help her. He could barely reach out an arm in futile desperation. 

A gasp. Distressed conversation. Something had started wailing like a child. He heard footsteps running away. Just like the cave elf job… 

As the assailants grew more distant, the fire relit itself and began to grow from a flame barely the size of a candle. Thistle noticed the light and pulled her hood up. There was just enough for Brent to see the outline of long, pointed ears and short fluffy hair. Ears like Lyra’s. So she was an elf? Huh.

No, right now was not the time for wondering what she was hiding. He could see blood on the ground and all down the front of her vest.

‘Are you guys alright?’ 

‘You’re asking us if we’re alright?’ Lyra’s words were slightly slurred. ‘You look like… I can’t even think of something witty. You’re covered in blood, and you’re asking if we’re alright?’ 

‘Yeah, well, poison is usually more dangerous than a nosebleed. If it isn’t wearing off by now, then it’s a different type than I thought, and that could make for some serious problems. But you’re talking, so that’s a good sign. Brent? Orrig?’

‘Vill be fine.’ 

‘Yeah, I’m okay.’ 

‘Good.’ Stiffly, Thistle got up and went over to her bag and dug out some gauze to hold against her face. ‘Now that the antimagic is gone,’ Her voice was nasally, ‘I’m gonna set some wards. I should’ve done that first thing.’  she started grumbling. ‘It even crossed my mind, but I chose not to, I almost got us all kidnapped or killed…’ 

‘Did you know there vere things in cave?’ Orrig asked sternly.

‘Well… no, but I still--’

‘Then is not your fault.’ 

How the Son of Shadows was Cast Out--Chapter 2!! Next chapter’ll get fun. I had fun with scenes here. @bookdragon1811 and i’m not sure who else wanted to be tagged lol. 

Prologue | Chapter One | 

Chapter Two: Cade’s Caravansary

Inside was a cacophony of what could be defined as chaos--but Elliot wasn’t quite sure. He followed Reaper around inside like a lost puppy--but he felt like one. 

The shack was wooden with few windows, and a set of old stairs led upstairs. There were tables scattered with no apparent order at all throughout, and a random company occupied the chairs, snippets of conversation floating towards Elliot’s ears. 

He pulled his dripping hood over his head, wanting to melt away from all this, feeling terribly uncomfortable. Reaper, however, seemed completely comfortable here, which didn’t surprise Elliot. He seemed like the type of person who would just--fit in anywhere he wished.

Unlike Elliot.

His cloak dripped onto the rickety floor as he walked through the door with Reaper. When he carelessly let the door slam shut behind him, everyone immediately stopped what they were doing and looked up at them. After a second of pure silence but the rain beating against the side of the building in the background, of being scrutinized by everyone, they were left alone again, just two more travelers to spend the night away. 

“Welcome to Cade’s Caravansary,” Reaper said to Elliot. “All permitting we can stay here until weather permits us to continue on.” He swept a look across the room. “Hopefully by tomorrow.” 

Elliot took a second to try and figure out whether that was the actual name, or simply another one that Reaper mused up, until he saw the sign posted on the wall. Long-ago scratched words on wood: Cade’s Caravansary. He didn’t know what a caravansary was, but he guessed it was here. 

Reaper walked up to the small corner desk where a man sat, boredly flipping through a large, weathered book that looked like some sort of logbook. Reaper stood in front of the man a second, before clearing his throat and getting the man to look up. 

“Reaper!” the man said, closing the book. He didn’t see Elliot yet, which was understandable, seeing as Elliot still had his sopping hood over his face and was standing behind Reaper. 

“Cade,” Reaper said, not quite matching the man’s level of hype, which Elliot got, seeing as they were tired. That could be their excuse. 

“Here for the night?” Cade asked, digging out an ink pen. 

Reaper took a second. “If there’s space available, I suppose we might as well, seeing as this storm doesn’t appear to be letting up anytime soon.”

Cade paused. “We?”

Reaper stepped aside, letting the pale light of the lantern on Cade’s desk wash over Elliot. 

“Ah,” Cade said, sweeping his oily hair over his forehead and opening the same book, running his finger over the messy writings. “We have two rooms on the third floor--small ones, but rooms nonetheless.” 

“That’s fine,” Reaper said, digging into a pocket and placing (NOT A COIN WE CAN DO BETTER) on the table. Cade scooped it up, placing it in a box with others. He then dug two wooden keys out of a drawer with tags attached and handed them to Reaper. 

“Enjoy your stay,” he said as Reaper turned and handed Elliot one of the keys. It was roughly carved, and the little worn tag read 46. 

“The rooms are upstairs,” Reaper said. Oddly enough he seemed like in some sort of hurry that Elliot didn’t understand. He only nodded, having barely said a word since arriving. As they walked across the room to the stairs in the corner, he kept his head low, avoiding eye contact with the others in the room, but as he moved his head, he locked eyes with one for a second.

A dark figure in the darkest corner, with a hood low over their face, but oddly enough, it seemed they had glowing eyes. That or they had a lantern in there. In that split second, Elliot felt a cold wash over him, like the person was reading deep into his soul. He broke the contact and dashed towards the stairs. 

The room was dark when Elliot swung the creaky door open. Reaper had gone straight into his room across the hall with barely four words and leaving Elliot alone. He couldn’t shake that strange feeling he’d gotten from that stranger downstairs. He didn’t really know what had happened, but whatever it was it had felt really--weird. 

The room was on the third floor, the highest one. Elliot crossed the room and opened the moss-eaten curtains where the dark, desolate landscape spanned across. He could see barely nothing, the shadow from the caravansary’s light going much further than the light did. He turned from the window and to the small table where a lamp and a small pile of matches were. He struck one and lit the lamp, letting the flame flicker and cast a soft glow over the room. 

Cade hadn’t been wrong, the room was small. Barely room for the single bed, an even smaller nightstand, the lamptable and an empty wooden shelf. Exhausted, he locked the door and took his damp cloak off. He ran a hand through his hair, sitting on the edge of the bed. He wasn’t really sure what to think or do. 

He could start with sleeping, but he knew that if he tried to, his brain would still lie awake. But he didn’t exactly have energy to think now. It couldn’t be that late, either, though there was no clock in the room to confirm that. A small part of him wanted to go ask Reaper questions in hope he had the answers, but he had seemed pretty tired, and Elliot didn’t want to disturb him if he was sleeping. 

So he sat there in quiet a few moments, rubbing his hands and looking around the room. Then the flicker of the lantern in a mirror caught his gaze. But he hesitated. Did he really want to see how his father had scarred him? Did he want to see his weathered, beaten self? 

The answer was yes, he wanted to see what others saw. Wanted to see what Reaper had seen that made him want to make sure he was fine. Wanted to see what others saw if they judged him. 

Gingerly he slid off the tall bed, his boots making the floor creak underneath. Crossing the room to the mirror, he didn’t look directly at it just yet--readying himself. 

Then he looked. 

A jagged scar now ran down under his left eye to his jaw, rough and healing. His eyes bore a new sort of pain and readiness that wasn’t there before--and oh, that old nervousness and scaredness was still there. But he seemed a tad more burdened now. His hair hung in damp clumps over his forehead, the reddishness more muted in the light. The peaks of his Elf ears could be seen under them. 

It wasn’t as terrible as he had been expecting--but it was, at the same time. It was different, and changes are always hard to navigate at first glimpses. But he doubted that scar would heal completely--it would always be there, a reminder of what had happened and that fatal day. It could have been yesterday--or a week ago, depending on how long he had been out. He did look more frail, but that could just be from strain. Or from not eating for a week or two. 

He shook these thoughts off and staggered back to the bed, flopping back down with a defeated sigh. It wasn’t a very comfortable bed, but it was better than cold ground. Before he really realized that he was, he had slipped into a deep sleep.

The light of dawn woke him early, lying on top of the bed in his dry-er clothes. Sun streamed through the window--the kind of filtered sunlight that comes after a storm, but sun nonetheless. Elliot groaned and sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He felt rested, which was a good thing, he supposed. Sleep was supposed to do that. He slid off the bed and shook off the few last drops of water, the rest having dried overnight. 

Elliot walked over to the window and peered out, the lamp having burnt out through the night. The same landscape he and Reaper had come though in the wet last night was now sunlit and glistened with dew, a few low-lying clouds dotting the horizon. 

He heard a soft knock at the door and started, softly walking over to the door. “Wh-who is it?” he asked, not being able to see through the wood. 

“Reaper,” he heard through the door. It sounded like him, but Elliot grabbed a stray cane that had been left by the door and slowly opened it. 

Reaper pushed it open the rest of the way, walking through and closing it behind him. “You’ll need far more training before you can properly use something like that,” he said to Elliot, who was still holding the cane.

He set it down in confusion. “T-training?”

Reaper ignored the question, locking the door. “Well, today we go on to Holden,” he said instead. He wore the black eye mask again. 

“Right,” Elliot said, his tone not really excited or ready for that. 

“There are a few things you may need to know beforehand,” Reaper continued. “Do you recall what I mentioned before with people not quite sympathizing with elves?” 

Elliot nodded, perching on the bed close to the window. 

“Well, that is how it will be there. I would doubt we could find anyone to take us in if they knew. It is like that here, but luckily no one saw anything last night. You will need to conceal your Elvish features at all times.”

“Oh.” Elliot knew he needed to add more words to that sentence but he couldn’t quite find them. They couldn’t find some other place?

“And I would avoid anything to bring you--or me--to a place like that,” Reaper continued, “but you need somewhere proper to sleep and medicine in your condition, and we could only find that in Holden. So we’ll go there for now.”

“Will-will I stay with you there?” Elliot asked. 

“I do not have a house there,” Reaper answered, “but I would not leave you alone until you have figured out what you will do and how.”

Elliot doubted he would do that but he stayed silent.

“Now, we do need food, which they will have downstairs,” Reaper said, casting a glance around Elliot’s small room. “Do you have your cloak?” 

Elliot pointed to in front of the bed where it lay in a damp and messy pile. “Er, yeah.”

Reaper frowned, picking it up and shaking it out. “It’s dry enough and you’ll need to wear it,” he said, tossing it to Elliot who scrambled to catch it. He slid it on, and while it was dry, it had that strange smell cloth tends to pick up when it dries in a pile on the floor. 

“I think that was it,” Reaper said, placing a hand on the doorknob. “We will go downstairs to get food provisions and then we will leave.” He unlocked the door and opened it, pausing before stepping out and turning back to Elliot. “Are you ready?”

No, he wasn’t. That was the answer he should have gave, but instead he responded with a very unsteady “Yes”. 

Reaper nodded. “Alright then. Off we can go.”

Elliot followed Reaper out of the room, looking back at the room he spent one night in, his first night out of Orlem, free within limits. Then he closed the door and walked behind Reaper, down the hall. 

What he didn’t see, however, was a dark, hooded figure peering out of their own door. 

Elliot and Reaper walked down the stairs in silence, Elliot slipping his hood over himself before they entered the main downstairs, remembering Reaper’s words. He didn’t really want to experience firsthand the judgment and unfriendliness that he’d mentioned. That was one hand he could deal without. 

They walked out of the cramped staircase hall into the still-dim dining hall. It wasn’t as crowded as last night, but there were still a good bit there, considering it was half hour after sunrise. Reaper payed no one there any attention, briskly walking across the room and weaving around tables to the far side of the room, by Cade’s desk, where no one sat behind it at this early hour. 

“We get food--where?” Elliot asked, confused, clumsily following Reaper around. 

“At the back,” Reaper said, walking around the desk, Elliot following. There behind the desk was a small wooden shelf nailed to the wall with a few baskets of random assorted food. Apples, breads, and other messily packaged things. 

“Now, the reason we are up so early,” Reaper said as he threw things into a bag, “is yes, for the fact that we will arrive in Holden sooner, but also so that Cade does not witness us taking his food supply.”

“W-wait, we’re stealing it?” Elliot asked, looking around nervously.

“He’s lending it to us,” Reaper said, turning back to Elliot, drawing the bag closed. “And he doesn’t yet know it.”

Elliot wasn’t really sure how he felt about this, but he was hungry so he didn’t really argue. None of the few other peoples in the room payed them any attention as they stepped out from behind the desk and towards the main doors. Reaper tossed Elliot the bag of food, who fumbled to catch it as he opened the door and they stepped out.

There was that leftover smell of dampness that comes after a rainstorm, which Elliot didn’t mind at all. The ground was still wet and soggy, and squished under their feet as they walked, past the Caravansary in silence. 

Elliot opened the bag of food and dug out a slice of bread, nibbling at it. He’d half expected it to be stale or along the lines of that, but it was actually in edible condition. There wasn’t really any conversation between the two as they walked. 

About half an hour in, they stopped to rest on the crest of a hill, looking down into the valley, where through the mist that settled down there, could be seen buildings. 

“You see it?” Reaper asked, pointing down. “That is our destination. Holden.” 

Air Dragon x Elf King

Your soft white hair flowing against the winds rath, a warm smile embracing the joy and freedom you felt at that moment. Your wings sprung open feeling the cool hugs of the air. Rolling through the pink daisies you never felt the emerald eyes looking at you. You jolted up and turned towards the little boy, smiling you ran towards him. He started to run, and next thing y’know your chasing him down. Clueless, you thought it was a game of tag, “Hey! Wait, stop running!” He stopped 10 paces in front of you, you pinned him screaming “I got you! I got you! Your i-” You were interrupted by his sniffles, you saw tears running down his cheeks as you got off him. You stood him up and helped brush off the dirt. “I’m so sorry! I th-thought we were playing-” “I-It’s okay, I’m sorry for spying on you.”

You saw a golden crown sitting in the dirt, “is this yours?” You picked it up handing it to him, “Uhm thanks.” You swooped him into a hug, “Come follow me.” You grabbed his hand pulling him towards the pink daisies. You two sat in the middle of the meadows asking each other questions like, “What’s your family like? What’s your favourite color? Do you have a power? What’s it like being an elf/dragon?” You answered all the questions truthfully, you loved talking with him. Something interesting you knew was that he is Izuku Midoriya the prince of the elves tribe. You however, was just a homeless air dragon, your parents were killed. The moon was starting to rise as you and Izuku bid your farewells, you flew up and went back to the alley where you stayed. It was cold and wet, you woke up with a cold the other day.

You two meet up there a lot. “Deku!!! Come out come out where ever you are?” You both loved games, slowly but surely you had a crush on him, even though you knew he couldn’t just marry a low life dragon like you. It’s been 15 years when you guys last saw each other. Every night you hoped that he would remember you. 

Walking around town you searched for a job, the only job you could have was at the Big sip bar. It was an all tribe bar, any tribe member could enter and have a drink. You were forced to wear quite a revealing outfit, luckily there was a no touching policy. No one was allowed to touch the waitresses for naughty reasons, especially when their drunk. You were making some money, a small wage but it fit your time frame, you basically lived at that bar, you sleep in the backroom and have drinks in the morning to get ready for work. 

Deku sometimes sneaks out to go to this club, you knew this, it was your only chance to tell him how you feel, even if he might not feel the same way. 

One night you were working, making drinks, serving-lots of stuff. You walked around with booty shorts on and a sexy crop top on serving many sketchy customers. “2nd round of beers for table 6!” You placed the beers down and went on serving another and another table until you were stopped. A strong arm pulled you into a backroom. “Uhm sir-I’m not one of the strippers here-” You were interrupted by a sudden kiss, it felt so real-so familiar, it’s like you were yearning for this years. “Mmm! W-who are you?” You broke the kiss and tried to distance yourself away from the stranger. He whispered in your ears, words that you remember a long time ago. “I’m sorry for spying on you.” You slightly gasped and smashed your lips into his. His hands slowly crawled up your hips, tiny moans trailed from your mouth. He knows you’re enjoying this so he slowly leads you behind the curtains closing them behind you both. 

Everything happened so fast, you had no time to think about the consequences, neither did he. He slowly slipped your shorts down as you pulled down his hood revealing his vermont green hair, his bright eyes stared into yours. "Deku..." your words were soft and comforting. "I heard you worked here, and I just had to come see you. I'm so sorry for leaving you in the first place." All you did was smile, millions of thoughts popped into ur head. 'He loves me?! He went out of his way to find me? He-He kissed me?!' You couldn't stop smiling it was the best night of ur life. In a second you snapped back to reality and pecked him on the lips once again. "Are you just going to leave me like this?" A small moan escaped from your mouth and into his ears. 

He moved as if he was dying of thirst, ripping your shirt exposing your big soft boobs. He rest his chin in the grove of your boobs, he pulled down the strap of your booty shorts. "Awh, I really looked good in those." He kissed your soft boobs and tossed you shorts aside. "You won't miss then once I'm done with you!" 

The End

this is the s/i ask game by @s-e-l-f-s-h-i-p! im doing this with my owl house s/i!

What is your s/i's name & pronouns?

my s/i’s name is Carne Whispers and they use they/he/scream pronouns!

How similar is your s/i to you? Are they a carbon copy, completely different or a mix of the two?

Carne is sort of similar to me. scream’s hair ends up getting longer and dyed a different color than mine is currently. he and i are very much similar in basically every other aspect though! same pronouns (i don’t use scream regularly but it is an option), same love of music, same love for hunter, edric, and emira, same protectiveness of raine like a child caring for their parent

Does your s/i have a full backstory yet? Or is it still in the works? If it's done can we see it?

its more of like bits and pieces? like i know for sure that they came from the human world through some weird portal thing while running away from home, ended up wandering around the boiling isles for a bit before raine stumbles upon them and takes them home because where did this human child come from why are they out here what the hell?? and thats about as much as ive got

How did your s/i feel when they first met your f/o(s)? How do they feel about them now?

raine: absolutely freaked out. no idea who tf this person is or why they took them to this place. now? parental figure dearest i would kill a person for you

edric: dmgskgs what. who is this why is he pretty. wait no hes a blight. ew. okay but maybe he isnt so bad? all you know is his mom is bad thats all. but we still shouldn’t try it. oh no hes heading this way. now? edric please dont do that. oh okay well guess were doing this now. you absolute goof. i love you but. how and why.

emira: oh. oh intimidating woman. oh. please do not hurt me. now? EMIRA MY BELOVED GUESS WHAT!! nothing i just love you :) teasing me is your love language and im okay with that. i adore you.

hunter: okay thats a guard guard. stay out of the way. head down. hood up. do not look at him. at all. no. now? hunter please go to sleep. thats not a request im taking you to bed right tf now. i love you too now go to bed. yes i told ed and em how youre doin now go to bed. youre not useless please just go to bed. i love you so much.

Do you speak about your s/i in first or third person?

its very much a switch kinda thing? like sometimes ill talk about them like “oh yeah so this is my s/i, he likes to blah blah blah” but other times ill be like “okay so this is what we did next“ if you couldnt tell from the previous answers.

Has your s/i undergone any design/story changes since they were first made?

no not really! i dont really spend too much time on figuring out story and design, nor do i really focus a lot about my s/i in general beyond like how they fit into the story, so what sticks sticks. edit: as i was making this, the hair design was changed

Give us 3 random facts abt your s/I!

carne actually wears fake witch (elf) ears! the fake tips help him blend in and feel more comfortable in their own skin.

scream has attempted to start a beading club at school about 3 times, but was unsuccessful.

carne can and will and has fought someone for their friends, partners, and family. he doesnt like to do it, but they believe in facing certain issues head on.

Does your s/i have any kind of powers?

as a human, they dont have it in them in them, but they do try to pull magic from what's around them. most of his magic is from sound, as. yknow. hes kind of on the bard path, his parent is the leader of the bard coven. music is everywhere.

Does your s/i have any hobbies that you don't have?

mmm never thought too closely about scream’s hobbies actually! 

How many s/i's do you have? Do you use the same s/i for multiple f/os or make completely different ones?

in this universe, i only have one! in others, such as Pokemon and Haikyuu!!, i have a few

Does you s/i have one outfit they're always seen in or multiple?

well, you have the school uniform and then you have the casual clothes. neither of them change, you just have them being used accordingly.

Can we see a picture of your s/I?

i dont have the sketches i drew a couple months back so you get picrew images :) the top one is made by @lesbogyny​ and the bottom one is by baydews

Would you ever want to cosplay as your s/I?

honestly? yeah! i mean its mainly just casual cosplay, ‘cept for the uniform (and the fact that i need to re-dye my hair but shhhhhh)

Does your s/i get jealous easily?

mmmm not really. people have friends, and carne can respect that. its a lil hard being a jealous soul in a polyamorous relationship

Does your s/i interact with any other self shippers s/I'd?

well, seeing as ive never had anyone interact with me on this blog, nah

🧝 + 🦂 + 🛏 *drops emojis and runs away* byeee

Elf + Poisoned + Recovery

Fun fact: I love elf whump! When I posted the ask meme, I didn’t even realize “elf” was an option, so I was over the moon when I got this ask! This was a treat! Thank you so much! 💕

Apothecary hadn’t slept all night, but they got a second wind a little while before sunrise. Satisfied that their ministrations had brought Whumpee out of danger, they spared some time to clean the mess from the night before and freshen the water in the basin, all while keeping an eye on their sleeping friend. They made themself some tea, then waited and watched as they thought back on the previous night.  

---

“Help,” Whumpee said. It was a simple declaration of need that lacked any inflection of expectation.

Apothecary had just enough time to recognize the lean, hooded figure leaning against the doorframe before Whumpee’s knees gave out. Apothecary caught them by the chest then worked their way under Whumpee’s shoulder to support them. They hadn’t seen Whumpee in several years. The parting hadn’t been amicable, but that didn’t mean Apothecary wished Whumpee ill. In truth, they cared for Whumpee and would never have considered turning them away.

“C’mon,” Apothecary said as they made the journey to a back room. Whumpee leaned heavily against them as they went. This set Apothecary on edge; Whumpee had never been one, literally or metaphorically, to ask anyone to bear their weight.

Apothecary helped Whumpee into a seated position on the bed, then worked to unfasten their cloak. They folded the hood back and drew the garment away. Apothecary frowned when they got their first real look at Whumpee’s condition. Whumpee’s long hair was mussed and drenched with sweat. Their gaze was distant, but they blinked owlishly when Apothecary put a hand on either side of their face and looked in their eyes. Their pupils were too smalll; Apothecary compartmentalized that information. They pressed the back of their hand to Whumpee’s forehead, though they could already feel the heat rolling off of Whumpee.

“What happened, Whumpee?”

“Blade was poisoned,” they murmured.

Their chin dipped toward their torso and drew Apothecary’s attention to the blood staining the dark fabric over their belly. Rather than curse aloud, Apothecary nodded and went to work removing Whumpee’s shirt and laying them back on the mattress. They asked questions, trying to narrow down what kind of poison had been used; Whumpee would answer with quiet words when they had to, and nodded or shrugged when they didn’t. Apothecary cleaned blood away from the wound and examined the raised, red flesh around it.

It was bad, they decided. But it could have been much worse. Whatever poison had been used was slow-acting.

Apothecary began to stand, but Whumpee grasped their forearm.

“No one followed me,” Whumpee panted as their eyes searched Apothecary’s face as though they desperately needed for Apothecary to understand. “No one.”

“It’s okay, Whumpee,” Apothecary said as they gently took Whumpee’s hand in theirs and set it down at Whumpee’s side. Apothecary pushed away memories of the events that caused their group to disband. “I know.”

---

The rise and fall of Whumpee’s chest was smooth and even. That changed an hour or so later, though. Whumpee’s breathing quickened, and Apothecary crossed the small distance from chair to bed in a heartbeat. They hoped Whumpee was dreaming and not having another seizure.

“Hey, Whumpee,” they said as they put a hand on their shoulder. “Hey.”

Whumpee let out a tiny gasp and tried to push themself up on their elbows as their eyes shot around the room.

“You’re safe,” Apothecary said. They stepped back to allow Whumpee to collect themself. Sweat sprang up on Whumpee’s forehead when they strained to keep themself up. They breathed heavily with the exertion and whatever terror was dogging their mind. Whumpee’s eyes settled on Apothecary. The disorientation faded and they leaned back on the pillow, took a deep breath and let it out.

“You with me, Whumpee?”

---

“No, no, no,” Apothecary said as they turned Whumpee’s face toward them with one hand and held the potion they’d prepared in the other. “Stay awake for me, Whumpee. Just a little longer.”

Whumpee’s eyes slid open again, though Apothecary saw no awareness in them. The absence of the keen glint in Whumpee’s eyes made Apothecary steel their nerves and focus even more intently.

“I need you to drink this down,” they said as they shifted their position and put a hand under Whumpee’s head. They were careful not to snag their fingers in Whumpee’s long, unkempt hair. They lifted Whumpee’s head and put the cup to their lips. Whumpee’s eyes were half-lidded and their breaths were growing shallower.

“That’s it,” Apothecary encouraged as they tipped the cup and Whumpee began to drink. Whumpee sputtered and Apothecary hushed them and waited for the coughing fit to pass before trying again. Whumpee slowly drained the rest on their second attempt and Apothecary eased their head back onto the pillow. They dabbed the liquid away from Whumpee’s chin and neck.

“That’s okay,” Apothecary said. They brushed Whumpee’s hair behind the points of their ears as Whumpee’s eyes slipped shut. The planes of their face became smooth and untroubled, and Apothecary was relieved when Whumpee’s breathing became deep and even. All the kindness, warmth and certitude faded from Apothecary’s face; their jaw was set and their brow was furrowed. While Whumpee slept, they worked. They knew they were in for a long night. They did all they knew how to do and hoped it would be enough.

---

Whumpee made a small, involuntary noise when Apothecary made to look at the laceration on their stomach. They reached to cover the wound, but Apothecary took Whumpee’s arm in their gentle grip and pressed it back down by their side.

“I need to see,” they told Whumpee. Apothecary heard the way exhaustion had added an edge to their voice. They regretted it, but Whumpee frowned, and nodded, giving Apothecary permission to touch them.

Whumpee shifted and winced as Apothecary lifted away the poultices and bandages.

“Sorry,” Apothecary said. They paused and looked Whumpee.

“It’s fine,” they said as they huffed out a breath. They stilled themself and looked up at the ceiling.

“Looks a lot better,” Apothecary said. And it did. The swelling and redness had continued to diminish. Inwardly, Apothecary allowed themself a modicum of cheer, but Whumpee’s eyes were glassy and sweat still dappled their skin.

That didn’t stop them from trying to get up once Apothecary was done with their bandages. The effort drained Whumpee in barely any time at all and Apothecary had no difficulty pressing their shoulders back down on the bed. Whumpee looked up at Apothecary with frustrated, questioning eyes.

“You’re going to feel weak for a little while, and your fever seems to be stubborn,” Apothecary told them. “Don’t push yourself.”

Apothecary expected an argument, but there was none. Whumpee nodded and sighed. Apothecary gave them a sympathetic half smile, then straightened and turned toward the basin. They dampened a fresh cloth and wrung it out.

“Just going to clean you up, yeah?” Apothecary asked.

Whumpee made a noncommittal sound and chewed their lip. Apothecary was surprised when Whumpee didn’t balk at the contact. They tolerated the cloth on their face, throat and exposed middle. They looked away when Apothecary softly traced over the scars Whumpee had gained since their parting and Apothecary wondered how long it had been since Whumpee had had anything resembling proper care.

Silence that might once have been companionable settled between them. Apothecary let Whumpee drift with the tide of their own thoughts as they finished bathing them. A question stranded itself on their tongue, but instead of asking it, Apothecary wrung out the cloth, then turned their attention to mixing another draught for Whumpee.

“Here,” they said as they offered the cup to Whumpee.

Whumpee propped themself up against the headboard -they declined Caretaker’s help -and accepted the cup with both hands. They sniffed the concoction.

“That’s revolting,” Whumpee said as they closed their eyes and crinkled their nose.

Apothecary was glad to see the corners of Whumpee’s mouth tip upward despite their disgust.

“It’ll help,” Apothecary said as they returned Whumpee’s smile.

Whumpee drank the mixture with minimal complaint, then scrutinized the empty cup as they settled back down on the pillow.  

“Get some rest, Whumpee,” Apothecary said as they took the cup. They pulled the blankets back over Whumpee, who nodded. Their eyes were already growing heavy.

“Apothecary?” they heard as they walked toward the door.

They turned back to look at Whumpee, whose expression harbored the same earnestness it had the night before when they told them they hadn’t been followed.

“Thank you.”

Orbs Are Bad News Part 1/2 - (m/m) Gerrit/Llewellyn

I ran out of Eliseo/Padgett stories, so I’ll post the rest of what I’ve got. Thank you to everyone who has liked, reblogged, and/or left nice comments. This community is truly so kind!

Anyway, I love these characters, so much. :)

MESS, sorta NSFW probably, sneezing on person (who likes it) - Elven sorcerer Llewellyn gets his hands stuck to a magic orb while he has a cold and has to be taken care of by his FWB(?) half-elf fighter Gerrit Truestride who gets off on that sort of thing. 

I fricking forgot Gerrit’s last name. This might be it??

---

"Okay, we don't know what we're dealing with here, so let's be careful." Gerrit pushed open the heavy wooden door and lifted his torch to illuminate the room inside. The firelight played over several tables covered in intriguing objects and glinted teasingly off of more than one hint of gold. Gerrit himself spotted a stolid wooden chest in the corner and his heart rate quickened. "Jackpot," breathed Remembrance, the party's resident ne'er-do-well. She rubbed her hands together, sharp nails clicking. Gerrit was sure she was assigning price tags to the lot of it, except for whatever she hid in her bags for herself, of course. "I know a guy in the capitol who'll pay through the nose for that pervy little statue there." "That is a religious object," chastised Cordes with a haughty tsk. "It's used in rituals of worship for the goddess Fortuna." "Oh, I'm sure he'll be worshipping," cackled Remembrance, and she slipped past Gerrit into the vault. "Few hundred gold and he'll be rubbing out a grand ol' prayer." Her pointed tail waved with greedy delight. "Hey! The proper course of action would be to bring it back to a temple!" Cordes went after her, pushing Gerrit aside. The half-elf grumbled but wasn't surprised. "At least TRY not to touch anything cursed," he called. He'd been the one to organize this little band, but although he was the one who reported to their patron, he had precious little influence over what they did. They were happy to point to him when some upstart had a problem with the party, though. Ingrates. He turned to the last member of the group. "What about you, Llewellyn? I thought I saw some books on the far table."

"Lead the way," replied the sorcerer, and his usually mellifluous voice sounded strained. Purple shadowed the hollows under his faintly luminous silver eyes, and he had his nose tucked into his handkerchief again. Gerrit hadn't spent much time around full elves, but he'd always believed they couldn't get sick, at least not like a human or dwarf. Llewellyn had been dragging since Saints' Day, though, and seemed to have come down with a flu. His skin, where visible under his fitted robes, was wan. "Sure," said Gerrit, and he stepped into the room, holding the door out so that Llewellyn could join him. "You, uh, you don't look like you're feeling any better." "Oh," said the sorcerer, "I'm not. I ran out of tonics." He entered the vault and walked over to one of the tables, investigating a strangely shaped glass bowl. "But as we were already down here, I'm not sure what you want me to say. There's no inn at which I might rest my weary bones."  "Cordes could make you an herbal remedy," Gerrit grumped. He went over to the chest he'd seen earlier and smashed the lock off with the pommel of his dagger. He didn't need any fancy lockpicking tools like Remembrance's. And hitting something felt good when his companions were all intent to be annoying, acerbic, or both. "I suppose," Llewellyn replied, sounding uncertain as his voice wavered. Gerrit tried to ignore the way his ears heated at that. That was the tone that overtook the elf when he was preparing to sneeze. It wasn't any of Gerrit's concern. His occasional roll in the hay (literal and figurative) with Llewellyn did not make it easier or more appropriate to acknowledge his odd attractions, especially since they were currently ransacking a dungeon with a priest and a psychopath. He focused his attention on searching the chest, and he was rewarded with a heavy coin purse, a stack of calfskin-bound journals, and a ruby the size of a robin's egg. He whistled. Llewellyn gasped. "Hah- hahttsch-ow!" "'Ow'?" Cordes appeared from behind a bookshelf, one arm wrapped tightly around a thick rug, the other reaching for his pack of salves. "What is it? Cut? Burn?" When Gerrit looked, their sorcerer was rubbing his nose with his left hand. "Bruise," Llewellyn said. He lifted his right hand, in which he held a blue crystal orb that was knotted inside a thin lattice of gold chain. "I got my hand caught." He'd apparently run the thing into his nose when trying to cover his sneeze. Llewellyn's thin face was already dusted pink from the embarrassment. Gerrit couldn't help but laugh. "Very graceful," he chuckled. "I will thank you for keeping it to yourself," Llewellyn replied, and that was elvish dialect for "fuck you." Gerrit laughed again.  Cordes had leaned over to see the orb better in the firelight. He was the only one among them whose vision was hindered by the dim light. "What kind of artifact is this?" he asked. "It doesn't resemble anything I've studied." "I'm not sure." Llewellyn held it up to the torch. The orb lit up like a lamp, but otherwise nothing happened. "Whatever this chain is, though, it's very prone to tangling." He tried to shake it off his wrist and failed. This was a task for both hands, and he set to freeing himself. And kept trying. And trying. Gerrit frowned. "What are you doing? Cordes, would you get that off of him?" "Sure." The priest reached out to help, but Llewellyn suddenly backed away out of reach. "Uh... I'm not trying to steal it, elf." "Oh, I would let you take it," Llewellyn said, scowling. "But I have a feeling we would be in for some trouble if you touch it now." He held up both hands. His palms were wrapped around the crystal and bound with the ball in that thin gold chain. "I am... I'm stuck."

---

"STUCK," hooted Remembrance again. She was crouched at the entrance to the dungeon - a root-cellar-like set of doors they'd found in a small bandit settlement - and hauling out a heavy pack stuffed with loot. In the daylight, she looked menacing and out of place, her horns, dusky maroon skin tone, and black eyes setting her apart from this land's primarily human residents. "And you even said not to touch any curses!" "I recall you said so as well," said Cordes, who looked exactly like a run-of-the-mill human resident except for the star-like scar on his left temple. He reached down and grabbed Gerrit's hand, steadying the half-elf as he climbed out of the hole. Llewellyn was hanging uncomfortably on Gerrit's back, arms looped around the other man's neck. They'd tried to find a more dignified way to get him out of the dungeon, but he couldn't manage the ladder well enough without the use of his hands. "The artifact didn't react to my detection spell," sniffed Llewellyn disdainfully, and Gerrit was quick to set him down before that sniffing could become another sneeze. He didn't want to blush in front of the others. "There must be someone in Veigh who can help you," Gerrit said. "We'll just swing by on our way to the capitol." The city was three days out of their way, but they couldn't have Llewellyn stuck this way for the two week trip back to their patron. With his hands bound, he couldn't cast any spells that required him to gesture, and that was almost all of them. He'd effectively rendered himself completely useless in combat. Veigh had a chapter of the Mages Guild in residence, though, and if no one there could help, they might at least be able to send Llewellyn on ahead via a transportation spell.  "I will hope there is." Llewellyn looked pale and worn, though his fine features still exuded the otherworldly beauty of the high elves. His hair was a silky black, although mostly covered by his hood, and the contrast made his silver eyes look even more curious. He fumbled for a minute at his waist before scowling heavily. "I can't get into any of my bags, of course..." "What do you need?" asked Gerrit. Remembrance had started off through the trees, humming, her bulging pack swaying with her sinuous movements. Gerrit really didn't want to let her get too far ahead, not least because she was scary good at concealing herself in the foliage and might slip the party completely. However, Cordes was with her, and Llewellyn couldn't exactly fend for himself right now. "My handkerchief..." The elf's voice had gone wavery again, and Gerrit watched as his nostrils flared. Fuck. Gerrit hurriedly patted his pockets until he produced his own handkerchief, or what he bothered with when necessary. It was a large square of flannel, rough around the edges. It wasn't embroidered or monogrammed like Llewellyn's, but he figured by now the flannel was a hell of a lot cleaner, and it was soft for an irritated nose. "Here, take mine." Llewellyn held out his hands plus the orb for it, breath hitching, but no matter how Gerrit tried to drape the cloth, it kept slipping off of the artifact. He supposed he could try to tie it around the- Llewellyn made a desperate sound and tipped his head back, exposing the long line of his throat. His breath was coming in soft pants now. And he was raising the orb reflexively.  Gerrit couldn't let him whack himself in the face again, so he did the only other thing he could think of. With one hand he reached out and took Llewellyn by the shoulder. With the other, he lifted the handkerchief and pressed it over the elf's nose. His fingers settled firmly on either side of Llewellyn's nostrils, and none too soon. After another half-hitch, Llewellyn ducked forward again with a quiet but insistent sneeze. "Happtsch! Gerrit was sure he was beet red. “Bless you,” he mumbled. Through the cloth, Llewelyn’s nose felt hot, and any gentle pressure resulted in a bit of a squish. “Let me just…” "Whh- wait-" Llewellyn leaned into the handkerchief. "I'm nh- I'm not done hhH-" His eyes slipped shut and he gasped again. Gerrit swallowed and tried to ignore the tenting of his breeches. "R-roger that." He could feel Llewellyn's nostrils twitching against his fingers. "Hh...Haah- Hapttschuh! Snrk... Aptschiu!" His body rocked, and he took a half-step forward. Gerrit could hear the thick sound of congestion in the elf's nose as he tried to stave off another sneeze. "Blow your nose," he said. "It will help." Llewellyn hesitated, but in the end, he had to comply. There was nowhere for the mucus to go except out. He started to blow with a gurgle. Gerrit moved the hand from his shoulder to start rubbing Llewellyn's back. The handkerchief and his fingers were rapidly growing damp, but he really didn't mind. "There you go."  He held the handkerchief to Llewellyn's nose until the elf moved back on his own. His nose was red and tender looking, and his cheeks were flushed rosy. He didn't seem to want to meet Gerrit's eyes. Gerrit didn't mention it. He didn't really want to look at Llewellyn either right now. It had been a while since the elf had looked so very fuckable.  He put the handkerchief in an easily-accessible outside pocket of his vest.  "Ready to go?"  Llewellyn coughed lightly. "Yes." "Excellent." Gerrit gestured for Llewellyn to precede him, and the two of them headed out through the trees, following the sounds of Cordes negotiating the underbrush and swearing about it. --- Travel proved easy enough once they made it to the road. They were fortunate not to meet anyone else along the way. The party could handle a group of bandits without their sorcerer, but they had their treasure to worry about, and Remembrance always drew stares, and sometimes aggression, even from normal travelers. Gerrit thought her skills more than made up for the extra negative attention they drew. And anyway, Remembrance was crazy but she wasn't evil. She did better out on the road than in town, but that was probably true of all of them. Llewellyn kept up with her pace, but it was clearly a struggle. He was usually fairly quiet, but he didn't speak at all as they walked, focusing on breathing and not devolving into coughing or more sneezing. There were a few times when Gerrit hastily reached into his pocket, at the ready, but Llewellyn fought back the itch with admirable determination. He kept his nose from running by sniffling heavily, which sounded somewhere between awful and revolting. Cordes commented on it multiple times with disgust, but nothing could be done. Llewellyn held his tongue, and Gerrit was reluctant in this case to offer the handkerchief without being asked. They found a place to camp about half an hour outside the small village of Tewks. Remembrance cleared out some brush to make a flat area for the bedrolls and then promptly decided she'd rather sleep in a tree with everything she owned. She found a good, solid oak a few yards from the camp and ensconced herself in the crux of its branches. She had a good view of the road in either direction and volunteered to take the second watch in the middle of the night, which was her favorite time. Gerrit agreed to take the first watch as Cordes started to set up his tent. The priest refused to sleep on the ground and always took an extra fifteen minutes to erect a curious one-person canvas canopy. It wasn't even large enough to sit up inside, but whatever. The priest never asked anyone else to haul it along, so Gerrit wouldn't complain. These arrangements left him and Llewellyn alone together on one side of the fire, and he supposed that was preferable during the orb situation anyway. Llewellyn couldn't handle his own bedroll, help with the fire, or unpack any of their supplies. Gerrit realized he would probably have to help the elf eat, too. And... Well, when he noticed Llewellyn fidgeting uncomfortably, Gerrit took him out into a thicker copse to see to his other needs. They didn't talk about it... Llewellyn could hardly undo his own buttons, though, and it wasn't the first time Gerrit had taken over. By the time the fire was hot enough to cook over, Llewellyn had tucked himself up to sit on a tree stump, exuding an aura of furious self-reproach. Cordes took some jerky into his tiny tent with him - for some reason. Gerrit made up two bowls of pottage and sat himself on the ground at the roots of the stump. He put one bowl on the ground for himself and then held up the other. "Hungry?" "Not particularly," Llewellyn replied, voice blunted with congestion. He coughed. "But you're going to make me eat something, aren't you." "I'd prefer you do it willingly." Gerrit tapped the spoon on the side of the bowl. "Come on. It's hot. You'll feel better." Llewellyn growled in a manner more suited to orcs than elves. "I feel like an invalid." Gerrit sighed. "Well, if it makes you feel better, we can pretend you lost your arms in an owlbear attack very tragically." He could feel Llewellyn's fiery glare on him and smiled a little. "Look, we've all done stupid things while adventuring. I'm sure you remember when I tripped and knocked myself out on that knight's shield during the tournament." "I remember," replied the elf, begrudgingly. "Besides, you're sick on top of the whole orb thing. Maybe your detection spell wasn't sensitive enough. Maybe the thing's not even cursed! Maybe it's supposed to do this, and we just don't know why." "I have a hard time believing that. What possible purpose could this serve?"  Gerrit shrugged. "Don't ask me. Dad says my mother was a druid, but I haven't got a magical bone in my body." He tilted his head. "We could always try smashing it?" Llewellyn's rejection was forceful. "Do you want to explode?!" Gerrit chuckled. "Not really." Llewellyn sighed. Gerrit held out a spoonful of pottage. Feeding both Llewellyn and himself was a bit difficult, but Gerrit did well enough when he could alternate. It would be better if he could use both hands equally like Cordes, but he couldn't, and so he didn't. He just thought about it wistfully as he worked. Llewellyn ended up eating most of his bowl, then went back to sitting quietly and sniffling. Gerrit finished the rest and put the utensils aside to deal with later. And... Even though Llewellyn hadn't asked, he drew out his handkerchief again. "Hey," he began, trying not to sound awkward. "You wanna blow your nose?" No one else was paying attention and Llewellyn didn't need to inhale any more of that crap. The elf gave him a shitty side-eye. "Come on," said Gerrit. "Don't be like this." He patted the ground in front of him encouragingly as if Llewellyn was a recalcitrant cat. "I'm fine," said Llewellyn, and then betrayed himself with a quick breath. "Hah--" "Come on," Gerrit repeated, "before you make a mess." Llewellyn came down off the stump to sit in front of him, legs tucked underneath, and rested the orb on Gerrit's thigh to balance himself. His eyes were pinched with reluctance, but Gerrit could see that the elf's nostrils were already damp. "Hah- hh- hurry," Llewellyn gasped. Again, Gerrit reached out with the handkerchief, enfolding his companion's nose. He could feel Llewellyn's breath fluttering against his hand through the fabric and hear quite clearly how it kept catching on congestion.  "Hah-hngk- Hahgkttscht!" Llewellyn ducked forward with the force of it and Gerrit steadied him with a hand on his hip. "Ngkttsch! Hnggktxch!!" Gerrit bit his lip sharply to keep from saying anything, but his body was singing with arousal. Llewellyn hiccuped a short gasp and Gerrit pulled the handkerchief away to present a clean corner. The current spot had become soaked and silvery. "Bless," he managed after a moment, and he carefully readjusted the cloth. "Are you going to sneeze again?" Llewellyn nodded, eyes teary with the effort of the first bunch. Gerrit wasn't surprised; the elf had been holding back since they left the dungeon. He couldn't imagine it had been comfortable, but Llewellyn had his pride. He never would let Gerrit give him love bites either. Annnd Gerrit was going to have to stop thinking about that. "Haptsch!" Easier said than done. Really. But Llewellyn's comfort came first. "Hahkptsch!" The sorcerer groaned softly. "Hah- hh- Hgnaptscxhx!"  Gerrit did his best to assist Llewellyn through the fit. He kept the handkerchief secure, moving it when necessary to keep it dry enough. He steadied the elf when the sneezes bent his body or when he felt faint from lack of breath. He even massaged Llewellyn's nose for him when he was trying to blow it and the congestion was stubbornly refusing to move. By the time he felt finished enough to lean back, Llewellyn was flushed and light-headed, swaying where he sat. Gerrit was sweating and needed a towel. "........Thanks," murmured Lleyellyn, eventually. "Yeah," said Gerrit. "Sure." He swallowed. "Let's wash up." He helped Llewellyn to his feet and they went a little way to a creek (generously; it was little more than a ditch through the woods). Gerrit gently washed Llewellyn's face, careful of his tender eyes and nose, and sent him back to camp to lay down for the night. He lingered at the water's edge to wash the handkerchief and, well, to take other matters in hand. Llewellyn was completely out when he returned, and Gerrit was grateful. He smoothed the elf's bangs back and then settled beside the fire to take watch. The woods in the dark were full of the sounds of insects and small animals moving in the undergrowth. And Llewellyn snoring and sniffling in his sleep. Safe sounds. Gerrit rested his chin on his hand and looked toward the road. Damn orb. It was going to be a long way to Veigh.

what are some of your favorite and least favorite magical girl raising project designs? and your thoughts on magical daisy just because she's my fav

Heck yes opinion time! But first what you asked for:

Magical Daisy Good. The yellows-browns-beige works really well with both the purple accents and the minty green hair. She has pleats distributed evenly through her design, and they work in tandem with both the ribbons and with the daisies through her outfit without it getting too busy. I like her detached sleeves with gloves, and I am a sucker for practical footwear on a MG (both for them and for possible cosplayers) I’m not Crazy about the. Pouch? Asymmetrical bustle? The thing off her waist on her right. But it balances with her off-center headdress and has the same small design on it so it get’s a pass. Her hair is simple, but I like it and I think it works for her A good design for an anime (if the MGRP anime had done really well, do you think we would have gotten an in-universe magical daisy episode?)

Other opinions under the cut

Haha only giving opinions on 3 girls? I’m reading Peaceful Days now so enjoy my speed thoughts on MGRP-Aces outfits.

But first Maruino deserves so much recognition because her use of cream and dark brown in place of white and black whenever possible, combined with her chibi style and general color pallet choices, is so good. I know I’ve talked about the LN look vs the anime looks here before, but some designs would just look not nearly as good if she didn’t know how to use colors as well as she does

MGRP:

Snow White- School uniform with an armband indicating she is someone who can help, but with flowers. It’s cute, it’s fairly simple compared to other mgrp outfits, I like the big flowers on the sides of her outfit over the ones hanging from the ribbons off her back. A solid look, but not a winner in my book

Ripple- This is going to come up with quite a few of these designs but I like basically everything but the body. I like the sleeves, the geta are great, love the one ponytail with big shuriken, scarf brings great contrast to the rest of the color scheme, bikini top with ribbons attaching it to a wrapped skirt? The skirt feels like this could have been a keikogi but the top is almost wholly unadorned and overall I wish this was a better look than it is

La Pucelle- Great idea, meh execution. Knight And Dragon? Love it! The navy blue for military feels with armor and goes well with the gold&cream&brown. Her horns are cute! I like the tail- it fits the character and isn’t too large or distracting. Once again I like the arms-neck-legs but the body is. a bikini with a drapery bit off the top and the tabard. The tabard is good! But why is she in her underwear? Give pants??? 

-And yes I know swimsuits cover just as much as underwear but this isn’t a swimsuit and it’s a lazy way to cover what needs to be cover and not even try to make that area of a design more interesting. This doesn’t apply just to LP or even MGRP I have seen comments on this before and unless the character’s outfit is an actual bathing suit, try harder.

Top Speed- A wife. A halloween wife. God I lover her personality and her outfit is definitely on the simple end of mgrp outfits but very fitting. The colors are great, love the hat and the tall boots, the cape stripes might be my least favorite bit? But I feel if it was solid it would be too bland so. And the end of her braids looks like a broom. I love her. Good design.

Ruler- I hate this. But why..... Is it the navy blue is a singular piece? I liked Ripple’s scarf for contrast but maybe this piece isn’t large enough? Her head things look like two crowns on the sides of her head and their weird and. Not awful? But not great. The cape looks chunky at the end? In a weird way? Or is it the drop waist on the top. I know I don’t like the butt fluff. I do like the shoes&leggings? pants? And her crown and hair stars. bad/10 for reasons I can not place

Swim Swim- Techno demon in the accessories, pure schoolgirl in swim class in the torso. The white suit+black devil wings is good as character contrast , and her....hip...discs? have demony tails which is good, but the big headphones and floating disc things work great with the shoes but not with the rest of the outfit? This is two outfits in one but not in a good way. Pick a lane.

Minael&Yunael- They might not be super-murders but boy that’s their only redeeming trait. I do not like them as fictional people. And outfitwise? Meh. I like the chat balloon halos, and the one wing look for the two of them works, and again the use of Navy rather than pure black is good, but the old fashioned dress with a bib is. boring. and not in a simple way just not interesting? Like I think if the stiped bib thing was removed it might look better? This also might be a secret hatred of mine as I think I have figured out from a later outfit. For now- boo

Tama- Are you spotted or brown&white? Her fluff bits and legs say spotted and her ears and tail and paws say brown and white and I wish we’d pick a lane? Also not crazy about the butt-length cape. I do like the bone clasp and the hood, and you have to have big ol paws for a dog girl. She’s. Fine. Just fine.

Nemurin- Her hair clouds say magical girl, the rest says generic cute sleepy anime girl. I like the socks, and her hair, but she’s not that interesting? Don’t get me wrong she’s cute but the bulk of her design is Big PJs. The candy clasp is nice as a sweet dreams thing? Sorry Endo

Calamity Mary- Titty fur. Boots with spurs and arms with fringe and mini cowboy hat are all good, and her skirt is. A little boring but fine. But the best part of her top is the sheriff badge. If we’re committed to evil=slutty=evil, you can still make a more appealing lewd top than a bikini over some fluff. Let sluts be sexy? Stay dead bitch.

Magicaloid 44- Elementary schoolgirl but robot. Bulky but in that smooth modern look. I’m a sucker for hair horns, even when they’re metal or plastic, and she just has a good silhouette. But her colors could be better? I will say her mn art has her skirt look like a skirt, and the anime said This Is A Solid Hunk Of Plastic/Metal and I think that works better. Swap her dark brown bits for a navy to go with her skirt and i think i’d be out of complaints

Sister Nana- There are multiple MG nuns. What’s up with that. Good use of sexy belts for theme consistency, but I with there was more red up top or her shoes were a different color. 9/10 for dirty nun

Weiss Winterprison- Girl I love you why is your outfit not good as a MG look or even really as an outfit. Your practical looking boots have heels, your colors are boring and messy, you have like. belts but not enough for them to look interesting? Gurl I love you do something with this bland mess.\

Cranberry- ‘I love this’ I say threw clenched teeth. I love green and flower motifs, and I like boleros and big sleeves. But I’m not that into this? I think it’s that her top looks like a nice shirt that’s a little long and then she. Just has leggings on and a big belt. I guess the buckle is like. A big thorn? And i’m into tunics with leggings but this doesn’t? do that in a way I like? The red-blue roses are a nice contrast to the green and creme but i just. I have no idea I want to be in love with this and it’s Middling for me. More elf ear’d MGs pls

Hardgore Alice- I love alice, I am a fan of edgy spins on stuff(sorry), so I’m a bit disappointed? And I think it’s just the colors? I love the checkered pockets and the striped stockings and bows and the headband and apron and bloomers and dress shape and even her eye bags (mood). I guess I just wish there was more of the off white-maybe for the full apron? or even the bloomers? I love you please re-color.

Restart:

Keek- This bitch might win it for worst look. I like her hair color, and giant sleeves, and the cd and rubix cube are nice touches for an outfit, but what outfit. A bikini top and slightly-larger-than-usual underwear style bottom with a big plate of metal? Are those supposed to be shorts??? Points for normal shoes but take off the coat and this is nothing. And the coat isn’t much to begin with. 0/10 might take home the gold

Clantail- I wish the apron part was gone? But the colors are good tho I do have a question about the horns- they’re cute but if she can change her lower body to other animals they won’t always fit very well? And her necklaceuhhh tattoo? is odd. But she’s fine

Pechika- Good colors, like the feathers, I wish the chef’s coat had a different fit but it’s good. Could go without the tail. Also has some almost military feeling elements like the hair cross and the? epaulets? This is a spats stan account

Rionetta- Great use of colors, patterns, ribbons, has a specific look that works great for the doll dress. Hell year ball joints and weird eyes. Wonderful. I hate it. No fucking clue why. Like with the angels maybe? I hate strips? Except I don’t. Maybe just in specific situations? Or I hate multiple patterns? Rio looks good. I just see her and go into a rage. 

Nonako Miyokata- A very good look overall, just not super Magical Girl? Definitely magical miko but. The yin yang accessories feel a tad out of place- replace them with existing themes or add them in elsewhere

Magical Daisy- Still good

Nokko- This is just a maid. A cute maid with a weird choice of hair decor, but I think she got her outfit at the same shop as Milkit. *shrug*

@Meow-Meow- boy I hope I didn’t just at someone for real. I like her colors and tail, poofy detached sleeves are good, her top works with the open dress. I’m a fan of detailed edging on a piece, and it works with the pattern.  I’d’ve liked to see more of the bells that are on her wrists? I guess she had a racist accent originally though which yikes. 

Genopsyko Yumenoshima- A great sentai outfit, love the helmet ears and the tail. Not good as a magical girl outfit unless we fully dissolve the mg/sentai line. But the suit is great, slightly oversized gloves, and retro lasergun that doesn’t even work? Yesssss.

Detec Bell- Fwuffy. Great hat, love the dress, a good use of a cape, simple but very good. I feel a feel some of the ribbons could be changed up but a solid if simple design. 

Lapis Lazuline (2)- Cute starry tiger princess? I guess I’m a fan of navy and brown because i’m into it here too. Good use of the silvery details on the sleeves and dress bottom, and the links both at the cape clasp and on the boots. Really nice.

Melville- Bootleg Cranberry in every way. I like her over-pants and sleeve-cape, but the weird bib-top under the bikini top is a bad shape? Hair roses good and leg thorns do get a thumbs up. 

Cherna Mouse- If the turtle gets it’s own distinct look, why is Cherna just baby+ hamster? The hood is cute, and I dig the boots which work with the shoulder things, but said things don’t go with the toddler one piece+cape. She reminds me of Moetan and that is a bad thing.

Pfle- Ohhh this bitch. I may have been reading these books but I have no damn idea what she is up to and I hate it. Love her eyepatch tho. Super cute throne-wheelchair and it continues the bird motif. Her dress is nice but not that interesting? Seems more generic old timey fancy lady dress than Magical. Honestly I could go for some mixing up of the colors here? The dress and hair and throne all are a bit too similar. Maybe make the dress wine?

Shadow Gale- I like her look but I don’t feel it says nurse as much as it’s supposed to? Her aces profile honestly gives Rue vibes. It’s very monochromatic but I guess that works for her. Big fan of her skirt, kindof with it went all the way around. Solid design

Masked Wonder- Who? I refuse to play person5 because it’s been overhyped but isn’t this one of them? Not awful as a phantom thief outfit, but doesn’t say magical girl phantom thief at all. I do like the roses on the belt and. garters? Kindof wish we’d loose the color on the cape because it clashes more than anything with the rest of the look

Akane- I like her long hair flower. But her samurai-kimono look doesn’t feel blended well enough imo and the colors are too over the place while still being bland.

Lake of Fire Flame Flamey- Hell if I know how she looks I just love typing that name

Limited:

Weddin- Good colors, a bit too busy? The chains+roses+lace doesn’t feel well balanced. But the flame and ankle chain are balanced because Maruino is good at asymmetrical details 

Captain Grace- A pirate magical girl? Is she legit the only one from any main stream series? Well she set the bar high. The captain coat is great, multiple small anchors, the hat, and her skirt(?) is very cute. I guess the sole of the boots stands out a bit? But very solid (wait is that a tail? or a butt hook? :/)

Funny Trick- If Las vegas was a magical girl. Colors and silhouette are good, I’m just not vibing with this. sorry girl

Kuru-kuru Hime- Yiss more ballet themed outfits. Good colors, love the shape of the giant back bow. I could go without the big ribbon coming off the headpiece? It’s nice

Postarie- Buttwings! I love her hair shape, just. Not a fan of the orange and green colors? She’s a delivery girl but feels more marching band. It’s a good design, just doesn’t feel fitting? Great just not for her

Rain Pow- Now this is a sci-fiy look while still saying magical girl. The tail is yet another weird thing, and I could go without the permeant ring behind her, but the shape of her outfit is very good, and love the silly heart hair. Wish the gloves were a different color? But this is up there

Tepsekemei- Genie outfits being problematic isn’t something I can speak to, but this is a solid genie look with additions to feel different, specifically the lotuses. It’s good, and I haven’t seen flying turtles since love hina so. Good for her.

Mana- You’re not a magical girl. Maybe I just hate bibs? The hat is great and snake leg is fun, I wish her collar was actually smaller to stand out more? It’s a fine mage look i guess

Hana Gekokujou- Great use of hair color as contrast to a committed color scheme. A cute traditional bunny look. Not personally my favorite but it is Good.

7753- Big Coat! Giant heart braids! Consistent heart theme! It’s bland compared to a lot of the other outfits, and I don’t think her flat heart uhh hair? pieces? like rain pow? work as well with her. But I think she works well for a member of the resources department. Wait is her hat backwards? Amazing

Archfiend Pam- I’m mostly a fan of this. The top is great, it’s carried through at one hip, she has the weird arm guy to keep her asymmetry going on. I just wish she’d commit to either fur Or pleats as trim? Both is a weird texture choice

Pythie Frederica- This bitch took a while for her proper appearance. I love the horns on the hood, and the stars throughout work well. I really don’t care for her skirtdress though? It’s too long and in ribbons and feels almost jellyfish-y? I feel it’s supposed to feel like she’s standing in fire but that doesn’t work pass a glance for me

Tot Pop- Love hot topic. Her spiky ribbon is my favorite bit, and I’m a fan of oversized sleeves. A great mall goth look, not amazing as a magical girl look tho. The head decor feels most on brand for the genre.

Punkin- What if the three musketeers were murderous and royalty. I love the hair feather and dig the ruff, the cape honestly feels like overkill? The boots are great and I dig the pants. Once again, why tails. I know mahou-furbies has reviewed a lot of these girls with the same comment and she’s right. Pick red or blue for this look though.

Sonia Bean- Kindof busy, in a garbage way. Like her outfit is made of fancy garbage to make an old timey doll. Which is fitting. Love the dress shape. Less into the weird dangly poofs.

Jokers:

Princess Inferno- The whole princess line works well together. Quake has the least Team outfit but I feel all four work well together? Inferno’s bikini is a smidge above other tops with the fire shapes, and I like her hair, but I think she’s my least favorite princess.

Princess Deluge- Swirls and scales throughout? Armor? Gold jewelry? My biggest issue is the chain to the weapon because this is a really nice outfit.

Princess Quake- Why does your tail start in the middle of the back? I like her leotard and eye theme, and her head piece adds nice shape. Good asymmetry. shame she’s into children The hair gem is a fun touch

Princess Tempest- The apples are a weird touch? Good for color but weird as a theme? I love the leaves- honestly I’m a huge fan of the vaguely toga-y look. Are the apples supposed to be an atlanta thing? Her skirt could be a bit better but Nice

Prism Cherry- Princess of our hearts. What a color scheme. Her oversized dangly accents work well here I feel, and I love the skirt and the leaf looking ribbon behind the neck. I could do without the arm fluff, but the top garter for the skirt is a nice touch

Marika Fukuroi- My wife is a bitch and I like her so much. A much more vibrant outfit than most of the mgrp girls, the black is edgy but in a fun loud way. I love her skirt and every damn crazy flower. Her top is my least favorite with the smaller flowers connecting her top to her bottom and the frills that honestly are out of place. Great eyes

Styler Mimi- A fancy outfit that fits her theme, with a nice silhouette and simple color scheme. Ruined by the giant back powder puffs. Yes she would be fairly simple without those but they’re so garish and awkward. Good hair

Stanczyka- I thought her middrif was another hunk of plaster like the mask and now that I see it’s just skin with some stars :/ The whole head thing is good, and the fur is consistent throughout even if I’m not a fan of it. The giant sleeves are. weird. I want to like them but. Her swirly tiddys are a nice touch. The brown hair on the tail doesn’t fit

Lady Proud- For someone who lived for a lot of pages I do not remember her. Her leotard works with the sleeves to feel like an old timey dress and the way the cape is being held up to look like bat wings is nice. The green layer in her hair is an odd choice. I do dig the hair clips with the horns

Umbrain- Froggy slicker. ...Sakura did it better, the yellow and purple&red is a meh color combo sorry. I do love the candy additions for the ame(rain) ame(candy) play, and her umbrella is great. But once again I am confronted by a bib. Also her slicker is actually two pieces? Bad colors, bad body, good theme

Filru- I like the colors and the corset, and in theory the chunky knitting is very cute but I feel it’s at odds with the boots and corset. Make the whole thing chunky knitting- it’d be cute. The head doily also could be more on theme imo

Uttakatta- again, what did you do? giant overalls are good in theory, but the slits and the. bubbles? clear donuts. are just ugly. Honestly her whole look is not good, and a bubble theme has so much potential for cool shit :(

Kafuria- good use of colors, I’m not personally into the shape of her kimono as a mg dress, but the wings and the veil+such are nice

Grim Heart- this bitch. God her dress is a great shape. I think i’m not fully into her spade tail ribbons, but otherwise love? The flamingo is Silly but again as an alice fan, i do not care (ask me about kagihime for 10000 words of rage!)

Shufflin- the tiny bib haunts me but the big double sides apron card piece is a nice way to do the simple and versatile Card look. The hair is cute and i like the suit as a big piece behind the head

Aces:

Armor Arlie- chunky suit of armor. but Cute. as an armor fan in MG designs, even I think this is A Bit Much, but it has enough going for it that i think it’s a fun look

Bluebell Candy- once again Maruino kills it with using navy very nicely. A military vibe with the epilates and double breasted uhh skirt decor. honestly shocked the hat is center, and mm good hair happenings. A very nice design. still not into the weird fluff tail stuff

Dark Cutie- Great hair decorations, love the lunar details, seems to be a leotard over leggings? It’s nice. It’s not crazy grabbing or stands out that much in silhouette, but i do like it

Micchan the Dictionary- tying your coat around your neck is not valid, motarboards are not good magical girl accessesories, i personally have an owl vendetta, the red in her shoes appears no where else, and the shape of her dress is just weird. plus that hair is. not good. Oh wow. I might rank her lower than keek. oh Wow

Glassianne- this is just that alcreamie pokemon. i wish the exposed strawberry went all the way down instead of there being more icing along the bottom. she has a consistent theme and nice colors, i’m not not digging it

Uluru- said dog. 7753 and tama’s child. she looks warm but not super magical. why is she dog themed?

Sorami Nakano- gamer aesth. I could do without the hair paws, but the jumper is super cute, love the eyes and the hair tones, general color scheme, bandaid is a cute touch. A solid look.

Premium Sachiko- good colors, i like the cut of the sleeves/boots/dress, but her art has her legs blend together and that’d just the art but weird. nice use of four leaf clovers and horseshoes throughout for her luck theme. 

CG Angel Hammer- I like the flowers and the bones tail/wings. The halo thing is. odd, and it’s hard to get a great idea of her actual outfit. weird hair choice, tiny bottom but at least it has some frills. Needs more art

Patricia- acab. great colors tho and I like the shapes for the shoulders and wrist, and the light theme. The bright blue ribbons and earrings stand out well. This is actually a really solid design. 

Puk Puck- i hate this baby angel there’s too much to look at. Your bondage leg is weird! cute chest piece. you can’t have cloud swirls and drills for hair damn it. your halo also has a veil? fuck you. 6/10.

Best Outfits: Princess Tempest and Grim Heart Worst Outfits: Keek and Micchan the Dictionary and Uttakatta