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bonjour-rainycity · 3 years

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Double Heart | Chapter Ten ~ Cosima

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 4422

Warnings: Canon-level violence

**Read on Ao3 under the user “bonjour_rainycity” if you prefer!**

A/n Just so you know, I start playing a little fast and loose with ‘elf-lore’ right about here. Thanks so much for all your responses to the previous chapters! Happy reading <3

We retire early, each of us exhausted from our long journey. Elrond arranged rooms for us in his expansive home, which I found out is the heart of the city. I guess when you found a town, it makes sense that you get the largest estate. At Elrond’s instruction, a female attendant leads me up a flight of stairs and down a long hallway. She opens a door to my left to revel a large room with a four-poster bed, table, chaise lounge, couch, fireplace, and, through an archway to the side, a full bathroom. Pillows and blankets decorate every available surface and I notice a large selection of books and candles. After two weeks on the road, I want nothing more than to bury myself in this room’s amenities.

“Wow,” I breathe, unable to do much more in my state of awe and fatigue.

“Lord Elrond knows about your fear of heights and has placed you in one of the most innermost rooms of the estate. Your windows will offer you views of our waterfalls but you are nowhere near to the edge. I hope it is to your liking.”

I smile, my already present fondness for Elrond growing. Though, I do wonder which of my friends told him about my fear of heights. “It’s perfect, thank you.”

The attendant nods, leading me to a chest of drawers. “You will find clothing here and bathing provisions in the bathroom. Meals are three times a day and you may join the others in the common hall or request to dine in your chambers. If you require my assistance, I am in the room at the very end of the hall and to the right. I hope you sleep well.” She curtsies deeply and I wonder if I should do the same. Just to be on the safe side, I place one leg behind the other and squat, awkwardly attempting to mirror her movement. She puts great effort into suppressing a smile, but inclines her head in acknowledgment of my efforts before leaving the room, shutting the door behind her.

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

What am I going to do?

This place is dangerous. It’s terrifying. And yes, I feel relatively safe within Elrond’s walls, but he said it himself—just last month, orcs attempted to infiltrate the city. What if they try again, only this time, they succeed? And with some evil being on the rise? Nope, no way. I don’t think I can deal with that.

I throw myself facedown on the large bed, groaning in frustration. This world that I’ve only just accepted to be real is showing me just how real it is. The honeymoon phase is over. The rose-colored glasses have been lifted from my eyes, and what I see paints a dark, fearful scene.

Yet, even still…I cannot ignore the part of me that so badly wants to stay.

The people I’ve met here—humans, elves—does it really matter? Whatever they are, whatever I am at this point, honestly, does it actually, in the grand scheme of things, matter? Because I like them. I care about them. More than anything, I don’t want to leave them, to go back to a world of people I don’t know.

But danger and my friends are a package deal.

And I don’t know if I’m equipped to handle that.

I flip around into a seated position, letting my head flop into my hands.

I’m tired. I’m overwhelmed. I’m stressed. And I’m exhausted. Now, I need to sleep. Everything else can wait until morning.

I haul myself off the feathered mattress and drag my heavy feet to the chest of drawers. As far as sleep items go, I find only nightgowns, but they’ll have to do. It’s much better than sleeping in the muddied clothing I’ve traveled in for two weeks.

I change quickly and blow out the candles I rely on to light my room. I crawl into bed, pulling the thick duvet up to my ears. Before I know it, sleep calms my racing mind.

{***}

I wake in the mountains.

A roar, guttural and angry, comes from behind me and I throw myself into a sprint. I stumble over the uneven terrain, catching my foot on rocks and scraping my shins, but I keep going. Whatever I suffer running away is surely better than being at the mercy of the beast that pursues me.

Brown, gnashing teeth cut me off and I shriek, falling onto my back. An orc with its stinking, rotting breath descends on me, dagger cutting into my arm. I cry out not only in pain but in panic, for the blood that falls to the ground is not red — no, it is thick, dark sludge.

I’m underwater.

The sludge suffocates me. It fills my lungs and burns as it slides over my skin. I kick, desperate to get away.

Below me, a honeyed voice sings. It beckons to me, begs me to come deeper, to let myself sink. It promises safety, security.

It promises peace.

“Cosima.”

Haldir’s voice far above me sounds muffled as it travels through the murky waters. I snap my head up. I can’t see anything, only the darkness, but I know that if I can somehow get to him, if I can follow his voice, then I will reach the surface.

“Cosima!” Rumil shouts for me now.

My name, called in turn by each of my new friends, overlaps, drowning out the sweet sounds from below.

My vision darkens. I have gone too long without breath — I have to make a decision.

I kick my legs, propelling myself upwards.

{***}

I break through the surface, sputtering and gasping for air.

Light—harsh and bright orange—momentarily blinds me. As my eyes adjust, I recognize the puffy white duvet, the cool grey of the stone walls, the soft pink flowers cascading from the ceiling. I’m in my guest bed in Elrond’s house. I never left my room. I never lost to an attacker in the mountains. I never fell into the water.

It was just a dream.

Water—the roaring sound of the waterfalls—while muted, is still subtly audible in the background. And my dream—it was nearly exactly what I imagined before waking in Arda. The sound from the waterfalls must have triggered it.

Just a dream, I remind myself, trying to calm my racing heart.

A sharp knock disrupts the silence of the room and sends stabs of pain through my head — bad dreams and a headache, too, I guess. The knock sounds again and I groan, forcing myself to leave the coziness of my covers and pad on bare feet to the door.

It’s Haldir. He stands, hand still raised, in fresh clothes and even more armor than yesterday. His bow is slung over his back, a quiver and sword rest at his hips. I try not to let my thoughts get away from me with overreaction — surely this isn’t necessary for inside Elrond’s halls.

He lowers his hand, dipping his head briefly in greeting. “I—” he seems to notice my nightgown. “Did I wake you?”

I shrug and attempt to lean against the doorframe casually, still mildly disturbed from my nightmare. “I don’t think so.” Then, panic causes me to stiffen. “Have you been here long?” Did he hear anything? Oh, I hope not.

He shakes his head and I relax. “No, I only just arrived.” Whew. “I came to get you — Elrond wants to take a look at your arm. I also wanted to let you know, Glorfindel and I are going to visit a couple of the border stations and see if there are improvements to be made. I will be back late tonight.”

“Oh.” I blink. So he’s leaving. “But you only just got here.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Yes.”

“Well, don’t you want a few days to relax?”

He tilts his head to the side. “I have been relaxing — I’ve been on leave from my duties for three weeks now.”

I roll my eyes, recalling his constant state of watchfulness on our journey. “Yeah, I definitely wouldn’t call the trip we just had ‘on leave from your duties.’”

He huffs, but the beginnings of a smile tugs at the edges of his lips. “Would you please get dressed so I can escort you to Elrond? Glorfindel and I wish to leave within the hour.”

I fight the urge to make some snarky comment about his impatience and instead shut the door in his face, hurrying to get ready. My arm does sting — perhaps Elrond can do something about that.

The chest of drawers doesn’t offer much in variety, mostly just a combination of long dresses and a few tunic and legging sets here and there. I’ve been traveling in the same clothes for two weeks though, and a change in habit doesn’t sound too bad, so I opt for a sleeveless pale blue gown with a gossamer cape at the shoulders. I don’t look as ethereal as Lavandil would, but I suppose it will do. Using my fingers, I brush down the frizz in my hair as much as I can—a lost cause, really—and throw on a pair of cream slippers that no one will see anyway because of the gown. After splashing some water over my eyes and brushing my teeth, I throw open the door to find Haldir standing to the side, back to the wall, watching the coming and going of everyone who passes down the hallway. Always on duty. He acknowledges me with a stiff nod and gestures down the hall, falling into step beside me. When we reach the bottom of the staircase, he leads me to the right and through another open-air hallway.

He breaks the silence. “Is your room to your liking?”

I think back to my plush bed, trying to separate it from the dread and fear of my nightmare. “Oh, yes. As much as I liked sleeping under the stars, it’s nice to have a proper bed and all the blankets I could want. And a door.”

He huffs out a laugh, nodding in agreement. “That is the true indication of luxury.”

“And yours?”

His mouth twists into a grimace. “It is the height of visitor season here in Imladris, so I am sharing with Rumil. Aside from constantly putting up with my younger brother, it’s perfect.”

I freeze, turning to him. “Wait, you have to share? But you’re the one who’s supposed to be visiting, that’s not right. You or Rumil can have my room, I’ll stay with Alex—”

“No, that won’t be necessary,” he interjects quickly, jerking his head to indicate that I should continue walking. “I only meant to joke. I do not mind sharing a space with my brother.” Before I can respond, he changes the subject. “How is your arm?”

I raise it, feeling the skin stretch over the cut. “Stings, but it’s healing.”

“Elrond will be able to speed along the process.” He indicates that we should turn left down a new hallway. He leads me through a nondescript archway on our right and we enter a moderately sized semicircular room.

Elrond sits at a mahogany desk near one of the walls, writing furiously on a piece of graying parchment. Upon our entry, he looks up, and the lines of stress on his brow melt into an expression of warm welcome. “Good to see you again, Cosima, Haldir.” He nods to each of us in turn and motions for us to join him at his desk. When we approach, Haldir bows his head respectfully, so I do the same. It’s strange to be in Elrond’s presence. He carries such authority that I feel small in comparison, yet he also leads with such kindness that it is impossible to not want to be around him. Based on all the visitors Haldir mentioned, I surmise that I am not alone in this assessment.

Elrond vacates his chair and gestures for me to sit. He comes to stand at my left and gently takes my arm in his hands. “I am sorry for the injury you suffered during the attack. That must have been quite jarring.”

Haldir rests a hand absently on the hilt of his sword, watching us from the other side of the desk. Likely, he too is remembering the ferocity of the attack — the lives he had to take. It must be hard, even if they were the lives of those trying to kill us.

“It was,” I agree, wincing slightly when Elrond unwraps the bandage encasing my upper arm. “As far as I know, my home doesn’t have anything like that.”

He smiles almost indulgently, crouching to more closely examine the gash. “But you would not remember if it did, no?”

I swallow. I hadn’t considered that. “I guess you’re right.”

He looks into my eyes then, and I feel so very young. “Every world has its perils. And every world has its joys. You cannot have one without the other—such is the way of life.”

I exhale shakily, turning my eyes to the ceiling. That’s sobering.

Elrond lays his fingers over my torn skin and mutters something in that language I so often hear.

I try to concentrate on the sounds, but can’t make out any specific words. “What is that?”

Since Elrond is still chanting, Haldir answers for him. “An Elvish healing incantation. Combined with the power in Elrond’s spirit, it should close up the wound.”

Tingles race through my upper arm and converge on my cut. I crane my neck, trying to see around Elrond’s hands. A second later, he pulls away. I gasp. All that is left of the cut is a thin, raised scar.

“What,” I murmur, prodding at the skin. Not painful, not even tender. What was just a two-day old wound now seems as if it happened and healed ages ago. “That’s impossible.”

Elrond nearly smirks, straightening to full height. “Open your mind, young one, and you will see that what is impossible to you is commonplace here.”

“I—” but I have nothing to say to that. Though I cannot possibly wrap my head around what just happened, the fact remains that it did. I’m not sure if I’m ready to confront what that means. So I push it away for later. “Thank you.”

Elrond inclines his head. Everyone around here is so dang respectful. “You are welcome.” With a twinkle in his eye, he turns his focus to Haldir. “Do not give my guards too hard a time. I imagine they are wary of your arrival.”

Haldir gestures for me to follow him to the exit. “I only plan on pointing out strategies for improvement. Suggestions, really.”

With a noise that clearly communicates his disbelief in Haldir’s statement, Elrond returns to his desk, smiling softly and shaking his head. “Be safe, Marchwarden. And Cosima?” I stop and turn, one hand on the pillar leading into his study. He gives me a level look and I have the distinct impression that he is acutely aware of the conflict raging within my head. “My door is always open.”

Mutely, I nod, a little stunned by the gravity in his gaze. I must have been staring, because it takes Haldir gently tapping my elbow to remind me to follow him from the room. Once in the hallway, I feel a little more clear-headed. “So was that magic?”

Haldir shrugs, striding down the long corridor. “Humans would think of it that way I suppose. Magic implies something special and ‘more than,’ though, and it’s not like that for elves. It is to be respected, yes, but it is simply the power in our spirits doing the work that calls to them. For Elrond, his spirit urges him to heal, so when he acts on it, he is more powerful than others who aren’t called to healing. I should mention that we say ‘spirit’ for your benefit. Elves use the term ‘fæ’. Simplified, it serves the same purpose as a spirit, but for elves, it plays more of an active role in our lives.”

I mull that over. It sounds reasonable enough. “So then what’s yours? What does your spirit—fæ want you to do?”

“Keep people safe. And if that means fighting, so be it.”

That seems consistent with what I know about him. Every action he takes seems driven by the desire to protect those around him. “What would happen if you ignored it? Say you wanted to be a healer like Baranor or Elrond.”

Haldir chuckles, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword as he walks. “I have tried before and I was not near as successful. I can perform the basics of healing—anyone can—but there’s no power within me to speed up the process or heal especially severe injuries like Elrond can. If I tried to attend to your arm in the same way he did, maybe it would have healed slightly faster? But as you saw with Elrond, he is capable of doing it in minutes.”

I begin to catch on. “Okay, so you can all learn whatever skills you want but the power to perform above and beyond at those skills lies in your fæ.”

He nods once. “Exactly.”

We turn a corner. “But what if you wanted to be a healer but you were born with the fæ of a fighter? Could you change it?”

Haldir takes a deep breath, his steps slowing slightly. I realize we are nearing the staircase that will take me to my room. “Short answer—no. An elf’s fæ is incredibly personal and incredibly fragile. Really, only two things can change an elf’s fæ: marriage and death. Long answer—you can ignore the desires of your fæ and nothing bad will happen to you so, technically, if I wanted, I could shun the need to keep my people safe and heal them instead. But I wouldn’t be any better at it than anyone else and I would feel unfulfilled because I wouldn’t be giving my fæ what it needs. Does that make sense?”

I nod, but something he glossed over jumps out at me. He said marriage can change an elf’s fæ, but from what I know, marriage isn’t always forever. People can separate, people can die, people can cheat. What then? “Marriage and death change a fæ how?”

A faraway look comes into his eye. “The two are basically interconnected. When elves get married, their fæs bond together in a way that cannot be undone. When it is—through death—the half of the fæ belonging to the dead elf essentially wilts and leaves the remaining fæ damaged.”

That sounds awful. “But what about divorce? Is that kinder to a fæ?”

Haldir smiles ruefully. “Divorce is something unique to humans. Elves live forever and we love only once. When we do decide to love another, the two fæs are literally entwined forever. So divorce is a physical possibility — the two can be separated, yes. But it would cause their fæs so much grief that it almost never happens. Spiritually though, the two are entwined until death, some argue even beyond then.”

I’m almost afraid to ask. “So, if one dies and the fæ is damaged…”

“The other fades. It is not just a physical death, but a spiritual one. They lose the will to live and eventually pass into nothing.”

I look at the ground. Haldir carries a pain in his voice that makes me wonder if he’s seen this happen before. With over three thousand years behind him, it’s likely that he has.

I attempt to veer to a safer subject. He said elves only love once and, as far as I know, Haldir isn’t married. I try to tease him a little to lighten the mood. “So you’ve never been in love?”

He raises an eyebrow, jerking his chin in my direction. “Have you?”

I shrug, climbing the staircase. “I wouldn’t remember.”

“I think you would.” We’re at the top now and I turn to see him looking not at me, but out one of the gaping archways showcasing the falls.

I let out a slow breath, thinking on his words. Would I, though? I mean, what if I’m here gallivanting with my new friends and I have someone at home mourning my loss, missing me? Do I owe it to him to make it back?

Feeling a weight settle on my shoulders, I take small, hesitant steps towards the archway, bringing me closer and closer to the fortified stone railing. I don’t look down—that would be too much—but I do rest my hands lightly against the wood, staring straight ahead at the curtain of frothy white and blue. Guilt as well as fear from being so close to the edge churn in my stomach. Am I a bad person for not remembering my love? Do I even have one?

I let out a shuddering breath, knowing I need something — reassurance or condemnation, I don’t know. I choose to give voice to my fears and trust Haldir to decide.

When I speak, my voice is not as solid as I would like, sounding instead shaky and fragile. “But what if I didn’t?” I swallow against the lump rising in my throat. “What if there’s someone in my world waiting for me and I can’t remember him?”

The sounds of boots clicking against stone echoes. A few seconds later, Haldir appears next to me, resting his hands on the railing, mirroring my viewing of the waterfall.

“An elf’s fæ gives them a measure of awareness. If you are really attuned to someone—love them, have a strong bond with them—your fæs will have a consciousness of each other, almost like they’re in communication. For example, I can see Rumil’s light and I know that he is content. I can feel Orophin’s joy practically bursting and I know how happy it makes him to be here with his love. And, while a human’s fæ isn’t as strong as an elf’s, you do have one. If I concentrate, I can see it. It’s faint, but it is there. All this to say,” he shakes his head slowly, turning his gaze to me. “If you had a love back home, your fæ would know.”

I slump in relief, leaning against the railing and closing my eyes so I cannot further frighten myself. If I had someone that I was bonded to, I would remember him — more than that, I would feel it in my soul. So, staying here…if it weren’t so dangerous…maybe it wouldn’t be bad.

“Haldir, Lady Cosima.” A confident voice at the end of the hall catches our attention.

Glorfindel, golden and gorgeous as ever, strides up to us, bowing deeply. He reaches for my hand and presses a kiss to its back, then straightens and winks—at me or Haldir, I can’t tell. “A human custom I thought I’d try. Not my cup of tea, but I do say I’ll try anything once.”

I bark out a shocked laugh, having not expected Glorfindel’s bold entrance. “Am I one of your experiments, then?”

“If you’d like to be.” He pumps his eyebrows suggestively, though, if what Haldir just explained to me is true for all elves, Glorfindel is only playing around.

Haldir rolls his eyes. “Are you ready to go?”

With a flair, Glorfindel gestures to his armored form. “So it seems. Is the Lady going to accompany us?”

I huff, not liking being cut out of the conversation. “No, ‘the Lady’ hopes to stay here and find breakfast.”

“Ah, it is on the path to the stables! Allow us to show you the way.” With that, Glorfindel strides down the hallway as quickly as he arrived.

Haldir shakes his head—whether in amusement or annoyance, I don’t know—but follows.

The three of us wind up in a large outdoor pavilion sheltered only by a wooden lattice rooftop woven with blue and white flowers. This must be the common dining hall Elrond mentioned last night. It’s relatively late in the morning but too early for the midday meal, so the pavilion is empty. I’m grateful—I’m not sure I could handle meeting a whole city’s worth of elves before I’ve gotten some food in me.

The use of the word causes a brief spark of shock to jolt through my chest. I just referred to them as ‘elves’.

But I cannot deny it any longer—somehow, it clicked. I am in a different world, and the people of this world are not all human. My friends are elves.

This decision to believe—though it is only one of many I must make—releases a weight from my chest. I suddenly feel much lighter, nearly giddy with freedom. I push forward and turn around to face the two ellyn who led me here, nodding with a measure of finality.

“You are elves.”

Glorfindel looks perplexed, but Haldir, for the first time since I’ve met him, looks surprised. His eyebrows shoot towards his hairline, his lips part from each other. I grin, very much enjoying the feeling of catching him off guard. He narrows his eyes slightly, seeming to inspect me for signs of teasing or a joke. I smile up at him, confident in my decision.

Glorfindel looks back and forth between what probably looks like an impromptu staring contest. “Yes…it must be time for you to eat. How often do humans need to eat, anyways?” He chatters on, leading us through the pavilion and into an auxiliary room — the kitchens. “I’ve heard horror stories of new humans needing to eat upwards of six times per day. How do its caretakers get anything done?”

As Glorfindel darts through the kitchen collecting what I assume to be leftovers and provisions for the trip, Haldir comes up beside me, looking almost unsure.

“You have accepted it, then?”

I nod, exhaling quickly. “I have. This isn’t a dream, this is real. Somehow I lived in my world and now I live in yours. And, though there’s no way for me to wrap my head around it, my new friends are elves.”

He smiles softly, hesitantly, and dips his head in acknowledgment of my statement. “I am glad.”

But, despite my momentary feeling of freedom, unease settles in my gut. Many more decisions lie ahead.

A/n Ooo so what do you think??? Likes, comments, and reblogs make me happy! Let me know if you would like a tag :) Also, if you’re bored, pop into my ask box and tell me something that makes you happy -- I’d love to know!

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Tolkien tag list: @anangelwhodidntfall @eru-vande

Haldir tag list: @tolkien-apologist

Double Heart tag list: @lainphotography @themerriweathermage @thophil2941btw @kenobiguacamole @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @from-patroclus-with-love @boywivlove @ordinarymom1 @my-darling-haldir @sweet-bea-blossom @moony-artnstuff

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imagine-loki · 3 years

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Hiding In Plain Sight

TITLE: Hiding in Plain Sight CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 8 AUTHOR: wolfpawn ORIGINAL IMAGINE:Imagine coming from a line of nobility or royalty and being in an arranged marriage with Loki in an attempt to strengthen your kingdom / alliance with Asgard. You’re not entirely on board with the idea but figured that the best you could do was to get to know your fiancé.You form an agreement with Frigga for you to pose as Loki’s personal servant for a few months so you can get to know who Loki really is – beyond the veil of his responsibility to the Asgardian throne, behind all the masks he wears when facing the public, to really know who Loki is behind closed doors as you slowly fall for each other.How long will you keep up the ruse with the God of Lies? RATING: General Audience

NOTE - I finally got my ass in gear and finished something, thank Loki.

Raven thought over everything she and Frigga discussed. Her earlier worry that Frigga was blinded by motherly bias was very much confirmed. Loki was by no means a tyrant, he did not seem to have an aggressive bone in him. She knew he would never physically harm her. She also suspected that he would not be the kind to constantly say negative things to her and belittle her publicly but she knew too that behind everything, he would be thinking it, and that was an issue.

Frigga had ensured that until her family arrived, she would not be bothered too greatly. She instead spent time learning different aspects of Aesir court that could only be taught on her coming to Asgard, as it included court records that were kept in Asgard’s archives and could not be taken off the realm. It made for interesting reading, there were so many things she would never have even thought existed. Alfheim’s court was run so differently, it was a large learning curve for her, and she liked it. It gave her something to do while waiting that made her feel like she didn’t have to think of Loki all the time. On occasion, he came up in the court records, but they were in the grand scheme of things, where the royal family went and such so it was interesting but not overly informative. There was one situation that seemed to have arisen when Loki seemed to think it humorous to play tricks on his brother and a few of his friends and had been reprimanded in court for that but overall, he seemed to not be much of the situation. The only things of note from outside of the court that occurred but made it into the annals of it was an ambush in Vanaheim that noted his seidr was one of the reasons they made it to safety and when he was able to prove a young man innocent of a crime he would have faced a long sentence for. She read the articles pertaining to both with interest and noticed that Loki had a keen interest in justice and perceived imbalances of such. It was a trait to commend but again, she found herself wondering how to deal with her future with him. Clearly, he saw having to marry her as an injustice against him.

The knock on the door that stole her from her thoughts startled Raven. She walked over and opened it, not expecting anyone as Frigga had already told her that she was to deal with different matters through the day and would see her that evening and her family was not yet due to arrive. When she opened the door, the large burly figure on the other side caused her to frown slightly. “Your highness.” She bowed.

Thor nodded his head in acknowledgement. “Princess. I am sorry to bother you, but may I speak with you briefly?”

Raven moved to the side and closed the door again once he was inside. “Is everything alright?”

“I was going to ask you that. I noticed that Loki’s old maid had returned and that there was no sign of you anywhere. I was worried my morose brother scared you into hiding in some dark corner of Svartalfheim.” Thor meant it as a joke but the manner in which Raven looked awkwardly to the side caused him to worry. “He has not been overly rude, has he?”

“No more than usual, I suppose. He just…” She toyed with her hands.

“I can assure you, I will not run to Loki with whatever you say to me,” Thor promised.

“I could not stand his manner of speaking of me. He decided to actually attempt to learn something of me and Light Elf customs through my guise as an elven maid but that went about as well as a Jotun going to a sun for a holiday. He would not even use my name, he called me “Her” and “She” and “The Princess”. When I told him that it would be wise to use my name, he was uninterested, so I told him I could not stomach his disrespect any longer and left.” She explained.

Thor stood in silence for a short time thinking over what she had said. “Can I just say, that your official meeting as intended is going to be utter madness?” He chuckled.

“I have been hiding here reading, trying not to think about it.”

“How is that fairing?”

“Very badly. From what I am reading, Prince Loki does not take well to being lied to or deceit.”

“That is true, though the irony is utterly startling as he himself often lies and is deceitful, but I digress.”

“Two wrongs do not make a right.”

“No, that is true, but if you go left twice, you end up going right,” Thor argued.

“I am not entirely sure that has much logic to it but it’s not wrong, I suppose.” Raven laughed slightly. Thor smiled at her as a result. “Thank you, I think that is the first laugh I have had all week that is not at the expense of my current situation.”

“It does seem like it was by the look on your face.” Thor nodded. He sighed at the defeated features of the Elvish Princess. “Princess Raven, I know this is not ideal and I know my brother is immense work but I assure you, for as many faults as I can list him having, he is not a bad being and his recent adversity to the Light Elves is not a lifelong dislike, merely a reaction to the impending situation and I believe it is unfair to thrust this upon you, he is just trying to deal with it and I know he will cease his foolishness upon realising that this is not as bad as he seems to think it to be in his head.”

“How will he react when he realises who I am?” She asked. “I am trying to figure out myself how I think he will but I am not sure.”

“What have you thought would be his reaction?”

“Insulted and embarrassed that his mother and I schemed this. Perhaps angered at you too for not revealing the truth to him. Leading to an angry and scorned prince.”

“I would think that to be a fair assessment.” Thor nodded.

“Yet you seem to actually smile at the thought?”

Thor exhaled loudly. “My brother is very proud.” He explained. “Too proud, far too much so. And this will very much hurt his pride, I know that deeply but that is not a bad thing. Pride is not something one should have in great amounts as it is not a good trait. I too suffered this affliction but through Loki mostly, I have been cured of my pride and see now how harmful it actually is to one’s self. Loki has thought himself too much above others for too long, this will crash that delusion down and yes, if I am honest, I am interested to see how that goes. The worst you will endure is scathing comments, glares and such. I, on the other hand, will be subjected to abuse, both physical and verbal.”

“And you’re okay with that?” She asked, noticing the devious smile on his face.

“Yes, I am. It’s nice being the one not feeling fooled for once.”

“It was not about fooling him, it was about getting to know him before being married to him for the rest of my life,” Raven verified.

“Yes, but you fooled him by doing so,” Thor pointed out.

Raven became silent after that, uncertain of what to say. The closer the time came to reveal the situation, the more she regretted ever coming to Asgard before the wedding.

Loki eyed Thor with interest as he walked up the hallway of the royal wing. When Thor passed him, he noticed something about his brother that was off. “Where have you just come from?”

“What business is it of yours?”

“You smell of lavender and rosemary. Unless you have accidentally fallen into mother’s bathroom supplies, which, going by the fact you are dry, I sincerely doubt, then you were in the presence of someone who uses such perfuming plants and I am curious as to ascertain who that was.”

“That is entirely none of your concern.” Thor dismissed. “Why would you even care? So long as I am not encroaching on you and your business, what is it to you?”

“Now you have caused my curiosity to alter into intrigue.”

“I would have thought you would have been too busy readying for your impending nuptials to care what I am doing, seeing as you are to be wed so soon.” Loki scowled at the thought. “You know, if I were you, I would have some gratitude. Mother spoke to me about my perspective wives, and none come near the beauty of Princess Raven.”

“Ask Mother to give her to you then,” Loki growled before his brow furrowed. “How in the Norns would you know what she looks like?”

“We met her, years ago, in Vanaheim. Her and her brothers. I recall her being pretty then. According to Mother, she looks even more beautiful now. So, while I need to fret about the appearance of the woman I will have to have by my side, you are being gifted a pleasant one of good looks and mind and are complaining. Honestly, Loki, you state that you have it the least favourable of the two of us, yet on this front, you very much are at an advantage. Your wife will be appealing looking but even more importantly than that, she is well-versed in the role required of her as a princess herself and is genuinely a nice person and before you demand to know how I know this, the answer is simple, her brother Richard and I have spoken substantially of late. He is the second oldest of her brothers, he was at the same camp as us in Vanaheim.” Thor stated. He used the fact it was true that he was in correspondence with Richard because of the elf’s thirst for knowledge of the battles through time so that he could learn from them. In Vanaheim, he had spoken to Thor at length with regards to different battles and the Aesir prince promised that he would send books on different historical effects for the elf prince to better himself in his role as general of Alfheim. Never once had the elf asked for his sister, but Loki did not need to know that.

Loki gave a small disinterested sound. He had known of Thor corresponding with Richard, he was slightly startled that the two other princes were discussing Raven but it was not entirely implausible either. “Lucky me.” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “Sounds like she is perfect for you, you can have her.”

“She is not a fruit bowl, she’s a living being and you need to remember that,” Thor growled. “She comes from a culture where she is not as utilised as she should be but that will not equate to her being vapid and dim.”

“Norns, why is everyone so sure that this princess is so great? Between you and Mother, I am getting so sick of hearing about this. All I need now is Father bothering me about her too.”

“Father has said several times in my presence that this is the alliance we need to secure our ties to the Light Elves. Raven being married to you and the children that will result in such ensure that.”

“Unless one of her four brothers wed elsewhere, of course?”

“Three are marrying Light Elves and one is promised to a Vanir, General Everett’s daughter, Evie, is it? Their alliances are being set in stone via that.” Thor informed him. “He aligned his daughter after it was ensured you and Raven were to be wed. This alliance was integral to everything.”

“Whoopie.”

“Loki, please….just…” Thor sighed, he wanted to tell his brother to be nice to Raven, that she was a genuinely nice person but he knew that when it would be announced that she was actually the being that had been playing his maid and that his mother and the princess had concocted the plan and then, of course, when Loki realised that Thor knew who she was too, there would be a severe issue and he would not be easily calmed. “Try and be reasonable.”

“What were you going to say? Or was your brain not able to keep up with your train of thought?” Loki growled.

Thor sighed, no longer feeling the slight twinge of guilt for his brother at being deceived. “I was going to say, be nice to her when she arrives, but I gathered that was too much to ask.” he simply side-stepped his brother. “I hear they are arriving soon.”

Loki said nothing more to his brother as he left, too busy considering what was to come.

#Loki #others #submission #submitted fic #wolfpawn #hiding in plain sight #Chapter 8

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msommers · 3 years

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🍁 What are the Signature Colours your assigned to your characters, and why? Do those colours represent something specific for them as well?

took me forever to get to these but thank you!!! this was a fun one, made me realize that i actually Think about these things sometimes when before i would have said i don’t consider such things. // send 🍁 + any question you’ve been curious to know about my muse!

ELENA — yellows, golds, whites, reds and light blues. they’re the colors that came most naturally to mind while building a “child of pelor.” the yellows and reds make me think of her abilities in healing and fire magic, while the whites and blues give a nod to how she’s gentle more gentle and shy. she doesn’t want to stand out by wearing bold colors (though i’m sure she must at times), and that mix of soft blues with white in day-to-day outfits feels suiting. and then of course there’s the gold detailing in almost all of it because she’s the sunblessed, how could her clothes be made Without such additions.

EMMA — greens, purples, browns, and yellows. ima be real with you on the fact that the purple is there mostly because i love it myself but also!! it’s such a beautiful color combined with green, so that’s the main justification there. the greens and browns are the earthen tones that i felt suited emma for both her druidic powers and her personality. she’s that “down to earth”, grounded girl that makes you feel safe and comforted in her presence and i thought it’d be cute if her color scheme matched, add in the yellows that are so often linked to feelings of positivity, youth, healing and joy and it all works together so sweetly. plus, y’know...mush green, purple and yellow together and you wanna think about a garden of flowers :)

JORINA — browns, deep greens, and blues. tbh jorina’s aren’t that deep, i didn’t really think about them that hard. they just felt like the natural choices for an alienage elf & cartographer scout, she’d be constantly around such colors and that’s about as deep as those thoughts went.

LUCINDA — BROWNS, whites, various deep shades of others. lucinda’s not deep either, she’s just a character who wears a lot of vintage clothing and lives in an old family manor so there are browns and dark colors everywhere. the whites are there just because i like to imagine her in the classic white nightgowns walking around her house like a damn ghost at night ngl.

LYSANDRA — blues and whites. ice witch lady go brr (it’s cold so everything’s blue and white) :’) they also just,,,,i don’t know. you picture a grand room of ice and put yourself in the middle of it and to me that radiates feelings of isolation, which is exactly what she felt for a long time and that pokes through with the choices. she’s an ice queen both in powers and personality, what else could suit her as perfectly as cold whites and blues y’know.

MAEVE — PURPLES AND PINKS, blues, browns, and the occasional reds. idk man, maeve just has the purple energy. if you know maeve and you’re asked to describe how you picture her, the first things that come to mind are her big brown eyes and an outfit made of purples. there’s the whole purple being associated with royalty thing, she’s Not royalty but she sure is a queen in many people’s eyes and carries herself with that energy at times lmao. the pinks and reds for sure are influenced by a huge part of maeve’s character being Love and Romance, though the pinks also make me think of things such as softness and nurture at times. those two and purple are also feminine in energy (bc y’know programming by the world) and that speaks to her as well. the blues are a mix of me just feeling like she’d look good in blue and it’d match well with anything purple, but i sometimes associate blue with the feeling of inspiration and that’s a big part of her career as a bard/writer. then browns are thrown in there just because they match with the others and it’s the color of her beautiful eyes/hair 🥰 (as an in-character thing, it’s a small thing but i’ve always imagined that the first piece of clothing that maeve bought for herself was a purple dress and that’s a big part of why the color means so much to her/is her favorite.)

MEREDITH — blues, greens, blacks and golds. okay so the blacks and golds don’t have any meaning at all beside the fact that i think she’d look fantastic in them and i think they radiate a certain Energy when in an outfit, like you wouldn’t fuck with a queen meredith wearing an outfit that’s pure black and gold she looks like she’d obliterate you with one glare. but the blues and greens come directly from the association i have with the cousland heraldry, plus the grey warden’s blue.

#i'm sure i could find many resources telling me the meanings behind colors but i haven't bothered to look #maybe i should one day and i'll see if i'm right or find any new matches for folk #ch: elena granger #ch: emmalanthe merigold #ch: scout jorina #ch: lysandra #ch: maeve sommers #ch: meredith cousland #some characters missing bc they legit have. no reason to the colors lmfao #ch: old luce tag

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xiakha · 3 years

Text

FFXIVWrite2021 Prompt #13 - Oneirophrenia

The Scions did not return to the Crystarium alone. Well, the bally whole world also had to get back from the outing to Scree and Amity, and the residents of the Crystarium were no different, but there was another rumor.

Something else stalked those returning to the Crystarium. Whispers of something on the edges, a shape at the corner of the eye, an errant rustle in the stillness. The two day's travel was condensed into a day of forced marching. With the Light returned and so many of the Crystarium outside its protective walls, the chance that irreparable damage could be done to its personnel was too much of a risk.

But whatever it was followed them, somehow, across the sea despite each ferry being checked and triple checked for both stragglers and unwanted hitchhikers.

Was it paranoia because the grand scheme went awry? Was it simply exhaustion from sleepless days imbuing and doing hard labor?

It wasn't a sin eater. Even Lightwardens, as intelligent as they may have been, could not resist the lure of so much living aether to sup. They would have been attacked while organizing for the lift back down or while on the shore waiting for the ferry.

Ghost was the word passed around. An old concept from before the Flood when there was enough darkness to half see apparitions in. It enjoyed a new heyday with the return of the Night, but a ghost in the brightness, that strange contradiction, was in a way perhaps even more unnerving. Everyone needed to rest. In the confines of the Crystarium, so guarded for a full century without a breach in the walls, rest would come easier.

At least, for those not burdened with the truth. For those that didn't have a bellglass in their heads, the sands dropping one by one. If they tarried too long, never mind a breach in the walls, the Lightwarden, or worse, would be born within those walls. The Flood would complete its ruin, and the Calamity that the Exarch and so many others had worked centuries to prevent would happen anyway.

So rather than rest, they poured themselves into research.

Without the coming and going of the night, the constant brightness made days feel like bells. How long had it been since she had gotten any shuteye? She looked at Thancred, resting his head on his chin, hands crossed but still holding onto a mothbitten scroll. The man was hardly an academic, but the skills had come back to him after some practice. Alphinaud by her side, splayed across the table, a priceless ancient tome for a pillow. Urianger had left to peruse the archive in the Ocular, how long ago? Was it a bell? Three bells? A day? Her tea had long gone cold and the biscuits were all eaten. She looked at the pile of books in their reshelve pile. They had raided half the Cabinet of Curiosity and Moren would undoubtedly throw a fit whenever he would next check up on him. The next day? What day was it. Y'shtola was aware of the feeling of needing to remember a bellglass. They were working against time... for what?

She shook her head to clear her thoughts as the gate to the forbidden section that she and the Scions had inhabited for at least a day. Perhaps three.

"Alisaie, is that you? Have you brought us poor trapped souls more tea?"

Silence.

Alisaie didn't have the patience to sit and scour tomes. She and Ryne were running over all of Nordvandt to look for solutions. Y'shtola tried to focus. Perhaps they could be back from the Inn at Journey's Head by now.

But Alisaie was not very good at being silent, especially when addressed. Nor did she usually carry something heavy enough to drag behind her. The scrape and clang of metal on metal steps made Y'shtola glance at the two men at the same table with her aethersight, not turning her head from the stairs. No they didn't seem to rouse despite the sound. Was she dreaming? Was this a dream?

The thoughts of the ghost returned to her. Didn't they say it looked like a knight? Didn't it whisper something? "Run.." "Where..." and "Stolen..." were the repeated sentiments, reportedly.

Y'shtola prepared for the worst. She raised the tome she had been reading from defensively and wished she had brought her staff down here.

As the figure came into view, her mind's eye was overwhelmed with brilliant light.

Y'shtola turned and threw an arm up in an attempt to shield from the light instinctively before remembering that her sight didn't work that way. She willed herself to shut off her aethersight and was shocked to see even then some Light leaking into her head.

It was certainly in the shape of a knight, she recognized the armor to be of Ishgardian make, not in a remote way similar to the armored knights of the First. It dragged behind a large block of steel that could maybe pass for a greatsword. This was the ghost all right. And Y'shtola put a few things together quickly, even as sleep deprived as she was.

"Why, you must be Fray."

"Shtola..."

Despite her present circumstances, she clicked her tongue in irritation, "You know better than to call me that," Even if this was a dream, she had standards. She lowered the book and placed it back on the table. Shtola, stolen, ah.

"Where..."

It occurred to her that there was something wrong. Fray was dressed in black armor, Xiao had told her. Not the gleaming white, dripping with astral aether here in front of her.

"Shtola... run..."

Y'shtola pinched herself. Definitely not dreaming here.

"Absolutely not. Besides where shall we run? Shall we run to the ends of Nordvandt and have you destroy the First from there? Shall we run back to the Source and wreak all sorts of ruin there? Jumpstart the next Calamity there and now? I think not."

"Where..."

For that, she had no response. The Warrior of Light was a bomb now. No different from the firekin that traversed Vylbrand, mayhap with but a little more self control. Y'shtola questioned for a moment how much control the bombs had to contain their explosions. Or was it all down to one errant slip?

"...Where is Xiao? Well, let's go bring you back to her, shall we?"

* * *

Her hand went numb. As if with the cold, but Fray's gauntlet wasn't cold. Jolts of fuzzy pain went up her arm like she had fallen asleep in an awkward pose and had compressed it under her body. She tried not to think about what her hand must look like.

As luck would have it, it was past clock midnight, meaning the rest of the Crystarium was largely asleep. Few people would see her escorting the ghost trailing and dripping with light aether to the Pendants. And even then, the Sorceress from Rak'tika aiding a ghost? Better her than them. She kept her aethersight on and gripped her mostly unfeeling hand harder to avoid looking back at what was a small sun in her mind's eye. The amount of aether cast strange shadows in the Musica Universalis.

The Manager of the Pendants of course was awake, but if he was surprised by the ghost that Y'shtola led by the hand, the Elf did not show it.

"You'll be headed to Mistress Longbao's room, I presume?"

Y'shtola nodded, now aware that her arm was completely numb to the elbow and somehow the numbness radiated to the small of her back. The manager went ahead to unlock the door and ushered the two, and the sword, in. Discretion was perhaps his greatest strength.

Xiao was in bed, seemingly slumbering, her expression troubled. Y'shtola, Ryne, and Alisaie had stripped her from her armor to her smallclothes and wiped the raw light aether from her body before doing another sealing of the Light and covering her with a blanket. The rags were burnt afterwards but Y'shtola remembered how stiff and brittle the cloth became. She wondered what was happening within the Warrior of Light.

"Shtola... Where..." The voice came from both Fray and Xiao simultaneously.

Letting go of Fray's gauntlet, Y'shtola kneeled by the bed and grasped Xiao's hand, entwining her fingers delicately and kissing the coarse, battleworn knuckles. Xiao did not squeeze back, but the troubled expression lessened. Her hand was still warm, warmer than Y'shtola's as usual, And if anything, the numbing that holding on to Fray's (or the thing that resembled Fray, Y'shtola there was none of the snide eloquence that Xiao had previously described) hand caused lessened.

Y'shtola still couldn't look at her directly with her aethersight, however. She was still far too bright, brimming with Light.

"Urianger found poetry in the Oculuar. Did you know they wrote poems and songs about us? The Warrior of Light and her Sweet? Apparently I die in your arms and you follow not long after. Very tragic. Very touching."

She placed her head on Xiao's chest, listening to her breathing, still deep, not shallow or pained. She didn't let go of Xiao's hand.

"Unfortunately I do not aim to be immortalized in sappy poetry anytime soon, so no dying in my arms, you hear?" Y'shtola said to Xiao's slumbering form.

She must have stayed there for quite a while, fingers locked with the other Miqo'te, for when she awoke again the specter of Fray had disappeared, whether it wandered off or returned to whence it came, she could not tell. Despite the awkward position in which she slept, she was refreshed, at least in the mind. Her back and knees were killing her.

Xiao also looked much more at peace, her brow was light and her mouth seemed curled in a slight smile. Y'shtola extracted her hand, all feeling returned, and left quietly. She needed more tea and biscuits and another tome to devour.

The bellglass in her head was righted and the sands began to slip once more.

#ffxiv #FFxivWrite2021 #FFxivWrite #story #wordvomit #horny'shtola #misc fic

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pikapeppa · 4 years

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FenHawke &Varric friendship fluff: History

I was casually playing DA:I the other day and wandering around in the Hissing Wastes, and I got inspired to write some friendship fluff between Fenris, Rynne Hawke and their beloved BFF Varric. Set in my Fenris the Inquisitor universe.

~1700 words; read on AO3 instead.

************************

Fenris trudged over to the fire and sat next to Hawke with a groan. “I have finally succeeded in beating the sand out the creases in my clothes,” he announced. “For now, at least.”

Varric huffed. “At least you didn’t wear boots. I’m pretty sure I had enough sand in mine to build a castle.” He eyed his own bare feet in disgruntlement, and Fenris smirked; seeing Varric without boots on was a very rare occurrence.

“Told you to wear sandals,” Hawke said without looking up from the tattered book in her lap.

Varric gave her a long-suffering look. “When have you ever seen me in sandals?”

“There’s no better time to start,” Hawke said. “Bare chest, bare feet — it’s a natural pairing, like peas and carrots.”

Despite her jocular tone, she didn’t lift her eyes from her book. Fenris eyed her curiously. “What are you reading that has you so preoccupied?”

She finally looked up, and her amber eyes were wide and bright with interest. “It’s the journal we found on that poor dwarven fellow who got bitten by a spider. It’s pretty incredible, actually. I mean, sad because he died, poor sod,” she said quickly, “but incredible what he was figuring out.” She turned to Varric. “Did you know there was an entire dwarven house that purposely left the deep roads to set up here on the surface?”

He shot her a chiding look. “Have you ever seen me write anything much about the Orzammar dwarves?”

Her smile became sheepish. “Er, no.”

“Then that’s how much I know about a dwarven house leaving the deep roads to set up on the surface,” he said dryly.

“All right, fine, it was a stupid question,” she admitted. “But listen to this: this Paragon Fairel fellow took his house out of the deep roads before the First Blight to hide some incredible weapon he invented, so the rest of the dwarves would stop using it against each other. Before the First Blight! That’s how many years ago now?” She frowned. “Wait, when was the First Blight again?”

Amused, Fenris answered her question. “In -395 Ancient.”

She batted her eyelashes. “Maker’s balls, you’re so smart. No wonder I married you.”

Varric rolled his eyes. “All right, so some dwarves settled on the surface over a thousand years ago.”

“Yes, but that’s not all,” Hawke said. “It sounds like they were prepared to fight a dragon even before they left the deep roads. The fellow who wrote this journal found an inscription and translated it like this:

From the Stone, have no fear of anything,

But the stone-less sky betrays with wings of flame.

If the surface must be breached, if there is no other way,

Bring weapons against the urtok, and heed their screams.

She looked at Fenris and Varric with wide eyes. “Urtok means ‘dragon’, according to this. And ‘wings of flame’? That can only mean a dragon too, right? They knew before they breached the surface that there would be a dragon to contend with. How did they know that?”

“A good guess, maybe?” Varric said.

Hawke lifted an eyebrow. “But if they had never left the deep roads before, how could they even guess at what they’d find on the surface — and with enough accuracy to know they’d find a fire-breathing dragon?”

Fenris tapped her knee. “Perhaps they knew already of the archdemons, even if the First Blight had not yet happened.”

Her eyes grew even wider. “Shit. You’re right. Maker’s balls, I didn’t even — I never thought about the archdemons breathing fire underground. Do you think they breathe fire underground?”

“Probably,” Varric said.

She stared at him incredulously. “That’s insane.”

Fenris scoffed. “After everything we’ve seen, with the Titans and those ancient Sentinels at Mythal’s Temple and falling into the Fade, you think that a dragon breathing fire underground is insane?”

“I have to agree with the elf on this one,” Varric said.

Hawke burst out a laugh. “Listen to the two of you! Such grizzled and jaded men of the world! Maybe I’ve just retained my sense of childlike wonder.” Her smile widened. “Or maybe I’m just an idiot.”

Fenris tsked. “A very beautiful idiot,” he said, and he pinched her waist.

She squeaked in amusement and smacked his hand. “You certainly know how to flatter a girl. But really though, think about it: the entire history of this thaig, lost until now. And the Shaperate doesn’t know about it, or covered it up on purpose.”

Varric gave her a funny look. “Since when are you so preoccupied with dwarven history?”

“It’s not just dwarven history,” she said. “It’s… I don’t know.” She twisted her lips ruefully. “It’s rather fucked up how many people have lost such huge chunks of history, isn’t it? The dwarves, the elves… everyone who isn’t Chantry, really.”

“The Chantry is also unreliable with their history,” Fenris said. “They struck Shartan from the official Chant.”

She pulled a face. “Ugh, you’re right. That’s so fucked up, though. Everyone is so bloody casual with their histories. It’s so…” She trailed off with a frown, and Fenris eyed her with a pang of affection. Hawke was by no means the idiot she said herself to be, but it was unusual for her to get this pensive about history in particular. She tended to favour a happy-go-lucky focus on the present or the future, preferring to reserve her mental energy for discussions of magical theory instead of history.

She looked up at them with a little frown. “Even family histories or personal histories. There’s so much shit we can forget. I was named after a great-aunt or a grand-aunt or something, for example, but fuck knows who she even was anymore. Not that that’s any great loss of information, I don’t really care who I was named after. But at the same time, how can we say now what’s going to be important or not a hundred years from now?”

A rather melancholy silence ensued, which Fenris wasn’t sure how to break. He was starting to feel a bit melancholy and pensive himself. Hawke was right, after all; he, for instance, knew nothing more of his own family history than what Varania had told him at the Hanged Man several years ago. As he and Varania had never again contacted each other, it seemed that that was all Fenris would be fated to know.

“Oh balls,” Hawke said suddenly.

Fenris looked up to find her face crumpled in apology. She sidled closer to him and took his hand. “Oh, Fenris, I’m sorry. I’m being an ass, aren’t I, talking about this family history shit?”

“No, it’s…” He trailed off before he could say it was all right. His lost memories would never really be all right, but they were also no longer the gaping wound that they once were. “I’ve made my peace with my lack of history,” he said instead. “You know this.”

She winced. “I know, I just… ugh, I’m sorry.” She looped her hand through his elbow and hugged his arm. “I’m being so boring and mopey.”

Varric chuckled. “You really are. You and the elf here trading roles for a while?”

“I’m not sure that’s possible,” Fenris said dryly.

“It really isn’t,” Hawke chirped. “No one but Fenris can fill the role of ‘most gorgeous elf in Thedas’.”

Fenris eyed her chidingly. “It is impossible for you to fill that role. You’re not an elf.”

She widened her eyes playfully. “Nothing gets past you, does it?”

Fenris huffed in amusement, and Varric chuckled as well before speaking. “Well, I can cheer things up a little. At least we don’t have to worry about losing any of our history.”

“What do you mean?” Hawke asked.

“I mean that we have a perfectly accurate and compelling historian right here.” He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

Fenris chuckled, and Hawke barked out a bright little laugh. “You’re talking about yourself. Of course you are.”

Varric did a little bow from his seated position. “You can both thank me anytime.”

Fenris raised an eyebrow. “For what? Making Hawke a notorious Thedas-wide celebrity?”

“No!” Hawke retorted. “For painting me as a charming hero and not the complete fool that I am, of course!” She shifted over and hugged Varric around the neck.

He patted her back and smirked at Fenris. “Don’t worry, buddy, I’ll make you look good too in all of this Inquisition shit.”

Fenris sighed. “I appreciate the sentiment, I suppose.”

Hawke smiled sweetly at Varric. “When you write about the Inquisition, can you put in the story about how Fenris and Sera almost knocked Krem out with a stale cookie when they were on the roof that one time?”

“No,” Fenris said hastily. “Absolutely not. That was an accident!”

Varric ignored him. “It’s already written down, don’t worry,” he said to Hawke.

Fenris grunted. “Then you ought to include the time that Hawke asked Bull to teach her to throw a proper punch and nearly sprained her wrist on his unarmoured chest.”

She laughed and poked his thigh. “Hey, that’s unfair! Bull’s tits are so hard they might as well be armour. Dorian should have warned me!”

Varric snickered. “Don’t worry, I’ve got that one written down as well.”

Hawke clicked her tongue. “Well, in that case, you have to include that time that you tried to gamble against Solas and lost so badly that he took mercy on you by not taking your coat and your boots.”

Fenris snorted, and Varric pulled a face. “Aw, now that’s just mean to bring that up,” he complained.

Hawke giggled. They continued to tease each other with favourite stories of the past, both recent and remote, and Fenris smiled to himself as he listened to their laughter and their tales. In the grand scheme of things, the ties between a human mage, a Tevinter elf and a surface dwarf were too humble to survive the fickle nature of history and time. Not all histories were important enough to be written in the pages of a Chantry tome or carved in lyrium into the walls of Orzammar, after all.

But as Fenris listened to Hawke and Varric laughing and exchanging tales and playful jabs just as they used to do ten years ago, he realized that even the most humble of histories could be infinitely precious.

#fenris #fenris fic #fenhawke #fenris/hawke #fenris x hawke #fenris/femhawke #fenris x femhawke #fenris/f!hawke #fenris x f!hawke #fhawris #f!hawris #varric tethras #fenrynne #pikapeppa writes

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peacehopeandrats · 4 years

Text

For Your Consideration

Happy T.E.A. season everyone!

I’d like to start out by thanking the folks that nominated me last year, taking a chance on a fic writer that you barely knew. I hope that the fics I’ve shared since then have brought you some joy. I’m not one who thinks about these awards, but it does mean a lot that readers would put me up for consideration. For this reason, after many discussions with both my house elf and some readers who thought I should make the traditional list, I’ve decided to put mine under the cut below.

Please click to read more if you would like some ideas about nominating any of the following fics:

Stand Alone Fics

Awake

Lost And Found

Mountains, Streams, and Magical Things

From the Growing Up Series

Leaving Storybrooke

The City That Never Sleeps

Unconventional

Monster In The Storm

Pop Ins

Date Night

The Tent of Infinite Adventure

Last Night On Earth

Parts of other series

Snow Bunnies

Granted

One Word, Many Meanings

One Lover, Many Dreams

Detailed information (including suggested categories) on the above can be found under the cut. Thank you.

Awake - This story borrows the plot concept from the TV show Awake (staring Jason Isaacs) and adapts it to Once Upon a Time, but is NOT a crossover. It also is technically not an AU, however, I have been advised by multiple people (including the powers that be) that it DOES fall under the TV AU category, so I’ve added it this year where I didn’t allow it last year. Summary - Gold and Weaver are split into two lives. Gold lives without Gideon, Weaver lives without Belle. Can he find a way to unite his family again? Nomination Suggestions - Fluff: Family, Comfort | Angst: Death, Hurts So Good | General: Best Missing Years, Best Novel Length Fic, Best TV Show Au | Special: Best Drama

As always, if you believe Belle, Gold, Weaver, or Gideon deserve a nod in the Best Character category, I welcome you to add them there.

Lost And Found - This year’s Rumbelle Secret Santa Summary - Belle and Rumple have planned a date night, but things don't work out the way Belle expected them to. Instead of a nice dinner out, she ends up wandering through the snow in search of a mysterious stranger. When she finds him her life is changed forever. Nomination Suggestions - General: Best One Shot, Best Storybrooke | Romance: Best Date (Overall) | Special: Best Rumbelle Secret Santa

As always, if you believe Belle or Gold deserve a nod in the Best Character category, I welcome you to add them there.

Mountains, Streams, And Magical Things - This year’s Christmas In July, based off of the song Mountain Stream by the Cowboy Junkies, but is not an AU. Summary - Rumplestiltskin is a king of the magical world who collects magical things for a single purpose, but not all of them are as useful as he hopes they could be. When one of those useless items from the Enchanted Forest causes trouble in Storybrooke it changes the lives of everyone it touches, including the Dark One himself. Nomination Suggestions - General: Best Dark Castle, Best Novel Length | Special: Best Christmas In July

As always, if you believe Belle or Gold deserve a nod in the Best Character category, I welcome you to add them there.

Leaving Storybrooke - Part 1 of the Growing Up Series Summary - The Golds say goodbye to their friends and family and drive away to their future as a family. Nomination Suggestions - General: Best Missing Years, Best Storygrooke | Fluff: Family

As always, if you believe Belle or Gold deserve a nod in the Best Character category, I welcome you to add them there.

The City That Never Sleeps - Part 2 of the Growing Up Series Summary - Belle and Rumple are on their way to New York with Gideon, to spend some time settling in to their lives away from Storybrooke and prepare for their long adventure as a family. Rumple has another motive, however, which he tries to keep from Belle until a group of visitors reveal themselves, forcing him to tell the truth about everything. Nomination Suggestions - General: Best Missing Years, Best Travel, Best Crossover | Fluff: Family

As always, if you believe Belle or Gold deserve a nod in the Best Character category, I welcome you to add them there.

Unconventional - Part 3 of the Growing Up Series (Don’t let the image fool you, it’s Rumple, not Rush.) Summary - The Golds have left New York and begun their tour of the United States. Their next stop is Chicago, where Belle and Gideon have chosen to do something that might push Rumple's comfort zone. Nomination Suggestions - General: Best Missing Years, Best Travel | Fluff: Family | Event: Best Monthly Rumbelling

As always, if you believe Belle, Gold, or Gideon deserve a nod in the Best Character category, I welcome you to add them there.

Monster In The Storm - Currently part 4 of the Growing Up Series Summary - The Golds have moved into a new town home and Gideon meets a young girl who convinces him that their fathers are more alike than he could ever have imagined. The problem is, only one of them is the real "monster" and Gideon needs help to see the truth. Nomination Suggestions - General: Best Missing Years, Best Travel | Fluff: Family | Event: Best Monthly Rumbelling

As always, if you believe Belle, Gold, or Gideon deserve a nod in the Best Character category, I welcome you to add them there.

Pop Ins - Currently part 7 of the Growing Up Series Summary - The Golds visit a land where only light magic exists and nine year old Gideon has a rather unexpected adventure. Nomination Suggestions - General: Best Missing Years, Best Travel | Fluff: Family | Event: Best Monthly Rumbelling

As always, if you believe Belle, Gold, or Gideon deserve a nod in the Best Character category, I welcome you to add them there.

Date Night - Currently part 8 of the Growing Up Series Summary - Belle and Rumple have returned to New York for help with separating Rumple from the dagger. It also just so happens to be their anniversary and Rumple has something special planned. Nomination Suggestions - General: Best Missing Years, Best Travel, Best Crossover Fic | Fluff: Family | Romance: Best Date (Overall) | Event: Best Monthly Rumbelling

As always, if you believe Belle, Gold, or Gideon deserve a nod in the Best Character category, I welcome you to add them there.

Tent Of Infinite Adventure - Currently part 9 of the Growing Up Series Summary - The first time Gideon gets to use a magic bean he sends his family to a fair in an unknown realm. There they meet a magician who has a special tent that transports the Golds into their own great adventure. Nomination Suggestions - General: Best Missing Years, Best Travel | Fluff: Family | Event: Best Monthly Rumbelling

As always, if you believe Belle, Gold, or Gideon deserve a nod in the Best Character category, I welcome you to add them there.

Last Night On Earth - Currently part 10 of the Growing Up Series Summary - Now that the Golds know about Gideon's acceptance into Elphame Academy, it is time that they let him go. Always reluctant to say goodbye Rumple has schemed up a grand graduation-type celebration that he wants to be a complete surprise, but Gideon is so unaware of the plan that the oddity of it is bringing him down. Nomination Suggestions - General: Best Missing Years, Best Travel, Best Novel Length, Best Crossover | Romance: Best Date (Overall), Best Bathing Scene | Fluff: Family | Smut: Kink | Event: Best Monthly Rumbelling | Special: Best Side Pairing

As always, if you believe Belle, Gold, or Gideon deserve a nod in the Best Character category, I welcome you to add them there.

Growing Up (Series) Nomination Suggestions - Best Series

Snow Bunnies - This is the winter fic that started Granted. Summary - Originally a collection of 12 Rumbelle flash fics written for Eilinelithil, and extended to 16 by repeated request. There is a winter theme here that will be revealed fairly quickly, but I'm not giving it away in the summary or this would be longer than the fics themselves! Nomination Suggestions - General: Best Dark Castle, Best Storybrooke | Angst: Death, Hurts So Good

As always, if you believe Belle or Gold deserve a nod in the Best Character category, I welcome you to add them there.

Granted - This is the continuation of where Snow Bunnies left off. Summary - The last thing Wish Rumple knew, he was being turned to dust and whisked away, but an instant later he realizes he is in an empty realm and hears a very familiar voice. Nomination Suggestions - General: Best Post-Ep Fic | Special: Best Afterlife | Smut: Best Afterlife Smut

As always, if you believe Wish Rumple deserves a nod in the Best Character category, I welcome you to add him there.

One Word, Many Meanings - A Showdown fic that went nowhere ad was continued. Summary - Weaver wakes up late for work and must hurry through his morning, but can't ever seem to make it out the door. Is the fault his own or does someone else deserve the blame? Nomination Suggestions - Smut: PWP | Special: Best Woven Lace

As always, if you believe Lacey or Weaver deserve a nod in the Best Character category, I welcome you to add them there.

One Lover, Many Dreams - The continuation of my Showdown fic. Summary - Lacey sends Gold to the store, but not because she needs anything special. She has a plan, but is the night truly one of her own making? Nomination Suggestions - Smut: PWP, Kink | Special: Best Golden Lace

As always, if you believe Lacey or Gold deserve a nod in the Best Character category, I welcome you to add them there.

********************************

Again, a thank you for taking the time to go through my nonsense and send any nominations forward. If I have left any fic out that you would like to include when you send in your nominations, please do so.

#the espenson awards #teas 2021 #rumbelle #for your consideration

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floofiestboy · 4 years

Text

Senyuu AU Masterpost

I asked if I should do this on Twitter but Twitter is trash for big posts like this so I’m posting it on Tumblr.

I’m calling this an AU masterpost but I’m including canon alternate versions of characters too. I’m writing this assuming you don’t know anything past S4, but it will contain spoilers for F5 and the Haruhara Robinson Channel content.

Since the majority of these AUs are entirely fan-based with only the slightest bit of official content, I’ll also discuss common fanwork concepts, including things like special ship names for particular AUs.

Table of Contents

Common AUs

Web

High School

Magical Girl Alfo-chan

Visual kei

Less Common AUs

High School Detectives/Police

Himura + Yami

Rosicks + Hialba

Sheepba

Wild West

Obscure AUs/Outfit Changes

Feral Ros + Adventurer Alba

Formal Wear

Karaoke

Kindergarten

Saeki-san

Scientist Ros

University

Urashima Tarou

Vampire Ros

Wedding

Canon-Adjacent AUs/Canon Alternate Characters

Albatross

Boss + Sleepiez

Creasion + Maoruba

Elf’s Universe (”0verse”)

Meta Ros

This got super-long so I highly suggest using CTRL/CMD+F to jump to just the ones you’re interested in!

Common AUs

All the AUs in this category are universes you see everywhere in fan content, regardless of how much official content there is for it.

Web

Alright, this isn't an "AU", but including it for completion's sake. This is the main canon, the original Alba and Ros from the original webcomic. The anime and the Main Quest manga can be considered to be equivalent to the web-verse.

Official Japanese | English Scanlations

(Image from Jump SQ’s website.)

SQ is an “official” Senyuu AU - it’s basically Senyuu if Alba and Ros kept their Season 1 dynamic forever and nothing really bad ever happened. Haruhara has said a number of times that an important thing about SQ is that everything sad has gone poof, which is why he decides against giving a sad dramatic reason why Ros’ name went from Sion to Ros in SQ-verse. Other notable changes in SQ include Januar being human, Elf being a demon, and Foyfoy being cute and shy.

Senyuu SQ originally ran in the Jump SQ magazine for thirty chapters (Official Japanese | English Scanlations), named as such because of the magazine it ran in. More recently, Haruhara began releasing SQ Senyuu! on his channel, where the SQ stands for Super Quality and definitely not anything copyrighted (Official Japanese | English Scanlations.) The chapters released on his channel were sometimes in draft form, so he additionally inked some and released it in doujinshi form (Official Japanese | English Scanlations), along with a doujinshi-exclusive chapter.

Senyuu SQ Alba (seen above) looks identical to Web S1 Alba. SQ Senyuu! Alba (seen below) looks like Web S2 Alba but short and without the Red Fox scarf. SQ Ros doesn’t change appearances between Senyuu SQ and SQ Senyuu! He has the Web S1 Ros hairstyle, but lacks his armour and sword - his bat is his most defining feature.

High School

There’s actually two different high school AUs:

SQ Academy: There’s three omake chapters in SQ Senyuu where everyone is in high school - see here and here, in volumes 1 and 2 respectively. In the SQ High School AU, Ros, Alba, Hime-chan, Foyfoy, Januar, and Rudolf are students, while Rchi is a teacher. Alba is the president of an unnamed club with Ros as a club member.

(Image from Haruhara’s twitter.)

Soccer Club Drama CD: This drama CD was released with one of the MQ volumes. You can only buy the original Japanese on auction sites now, but you can listen to the audio and read a translated transcript here! This AU features only Ros, Alba, and Crea, who are all part of the same soccer club. Alba is the club president.

In both AUs, Ros calls Alba “Prez”. The canon content for both AUs is rather sparse, so the Prez thing is usually the only thing that’s retained in most fanworks. Reincarnation stories are pretty popular in fanworks, but there’s no hints or implications in either official High School AU that it’s connected to SQ or Web canons. Usually people use the Drama CD designs (probably because they don’t want to draw Ros with S1 hair.) Sometimes they use the SQ Academy designs at the start, then change to the Drama CD designs in second-year or something.

There’s also the Senyuu Light Music Club from one of the web omakes, which features Crea and Elf. I haven’t seen any works incorporate it though.

Japanese terminology glossary

High School AU: 学パロ - Gakuparo

Prez: 部長 - Buchou

---

Magical Girl Alfo-chan

This is the mahou shoujo parody of Senyuu, featuring Alba as a girl - Alfo-chan - and Ros as a cat - Roll.

(Image no longer available online.)

Roll is usually made into a cute catboy that can transform into a cat, because I mean, why wouldn’t you. And also presumably people want a Roll they can ship with Alfo-chan. For some reason there’s also a lot of works that ship Alfo-chan with Creasion, though I’m not sure where it came from.

The “official title” of this parody is actually Magical Princess Alfo-chan, not Magic Girl Alfo-chan, and most fanworks on pixiv are found under this name.

Japanese terminology glossary

Magical Princess Alfo-chan: マジカルプルンセスアルフォちゃん

Alfo: アルフォちゃん

Roll: ロール

Alfo/Creasion: アシルフォ - Ashirufo

Alfo/Roll: ロルアル - Roruaru

---

Visual kei

Visual kei is a music genre - you can read about it here. This AU started because Haruhara drew a pic of Alba and Ros in visual-kei-like outfits, and then it all spiraled from there. There’s three images that fuel this entire AU:

(Image from Haruhara’s twitter. Note that you can find a higher quality scan of this art if you download this artbook scan here.)

(Image from Haruhara’s twitter.)

(Image no longer available online.)

The Alba and Ros in the first image were dubbed Visual-ba and Visual-ros, the Ros in the second image “Roppongi” (because his t-shirt says “Roppongi Hills”, and the Alba in the last image “Kuroba” (because Kuro means black and he’s black-haired.) Why were the bottom two images lumped in with the first? That’s a mystery that may never be solved.

There’s two common variations of the AU in fanworks.

The first is where Kuroba + Visual-ba and Roppongi + Visual-ros are two pairs of brothers, and typically the pairings go Kuroba/Visual-ros and Roppongi/Visual-ba. In this variation, Visual-ba basically always gets to be Alba, while Roppongi and Visual-ros often take the names Ros and Sion respectively.

The second common variation is where Kuroba and Roppongi are just the civilian identities of Visual-ba and Visual-ros, which doesn’t have a pithy shipname in Japanese.

With regards to their visual kei identities, I’ve also usually seen two main variations - either Alba and Ros are currently in a singing group together, or Ros used to be a famous singer and Alba is currently trying to get famous under his tutelage.

Haruhara has also recently posted a glow-up pic of Visual-ba, bringing the grand total of official art in this AU to... four.

Japanese terminology glossary

Visual kei: ビジュアル系 - vijyuaru kei (Note that while technically ヴィジュアル is the correct term in Japanese, in the Senyuu fandom, ビジュアル is used for everything, probably because it’s easier to type and say.)

Visual-ba: ビジュアル - bijyuaru

Visual-ros: ビジュロス - bijyurosu

Roppongi: 六本木

Kuroba: 黒髪アルバ - Kurokami Alba (lit. Black-Haired Alba) --> クロバ

Kuroba/Visual-ros: ジュロ黒 - jyurokuro or 黒ジュロ - kurojyuro

Roppongi/Visual-ba: 六ビジュ - rokubijyu or ビジュ六 - bijyuroku

Visual-ros/Visual-ba: ビジュロスアル - bijyurosuaru, 派生ロスアル - haseirosuaru

---

“2P” is used in many fandoms to refer to alternate character designs that are often associated with different personalities as well. In Senyuu, the official 2P designs are all alternate colourings:

(Image from Haruhara’s pixiv.)

(Image from one of Haruhara’s artbooks which doesn’t seem to have an online scan, sorry for the bad quality.)

Likely because the bottom two are only available in an artbook, I haven’t seen many fanworks with them. 2P AUs tend to be only 2P Alba and Ros, with some occasional 2P Rchimedes or 2P Crea (who’s typically drawn as 2P Rchimedes with short hair.) 2P Ros is usually drawn with blue eyes, presumably to match with his red Mana Maker. 2P Rchi is also common enough - she tends to be drawn with a blue and black scheme, to contrast with her canon pink and white scheme (example).

2P Alba and Ros have varying personalities in fanworks, but the one consistency seems to be that their personalities are nothing like canon. 2P Ros tends to be the silent serious type or a yandere. 2P Alba tends to be an innocent happy boy or a yandere. You may be seeing a pattern here.

Note also that 2P Ros is usually referred to as 2P Creasion, for obvious reasons.

Japanese terminology glossary

2P Alba/2P Ros: 2Pアシアル - 2P ashiaru or 2Pアルアシ - 2P aruashi. Both are sometimes shortened by removing the “2P”.

Less Common AUs

These AUs aren’t seen quite as much as the juggernauts above, but you’ve probably still seen them around occasionally.

High School Detectives/Police

There’s a few different detective-related fanworks floating out there, based on one of the three official chapters: Detective Ros in Senyuu SQ, Senyuu Police from the webcomic, and High School Detective Teufel in Main Quest Vol. 6, which hasn’t been scanlated yet (runs):

I haven’t seen too much art of High School Detective Teufel, but I’ve seen a couple fics and art out there for both Senyuu Police and Detective Ros, mostly Senyuu Police.

Himura + Yami

(Image from Haruhara’s Skeb.)

This isn’t really a Senyuu AU, but it shows up enough to include it here. Himura and Yami are two characters that Haruhara drew - you can see this original picture of them on page 12 of the artbook here. Himura is the redhead - at first, he meant to draw Alba, but he decided in the end it wasn’t Alba anymore and renamed the file to “Himura,psd.” Yami is just a fan-name - he’s only referred to as “the boy that shouldn’t be seen” in the artbook. Himura and Yami eventually appear in Gakumon! with the names Rahimu and Damia respectively.

Senyuu fanworks that include them usually have Himura being an Alba that fell into despair after Ros’ disappearance, while Yami is a physical manifestation of his despair.

Japanese terminology glossary

Himura-kun: 火村くん

Himura-kun/Yami: やみひむ

---

Rosicks + Hialba

This is yet another AU that was born from a mere two pieces of official art:

(Image from Haruhara’s twitter.)

(Image from Haruhara Robinson channel.)

The first picture is entitled “Soldier Rosicks” - Haruhara posted it saying it was a Ros beta design. The second picture is an scrapped Alba design for web season 2. Hialba was originally revealed on the NicoNico channel Hiaruron that Haruhara shares with a couple other artists, and so he got the name “Hiaruba” --> Hialba from the channel name.

Fanworks typically have Hialba as dead inside and sad because of Ros’ disappearance, and Rosicks as a gruff irritable guy who isn’t Ros and doesn’t like being compared to him. Cue angst because Hialba sees Rosicks as just Ros, etc.

Japanese terminology glossary

Hialba: ひあるば

Rosicks/Hialba: ロシひあ - Roshihia

---

Sheepba

Sheepba originates from a New Year’s illustration Haruhara made for the year of the sheep:

(Image from Haruhara’s pixiv.)

While Haruhara has done this for multiple years - there’s illustrations of Alba as a dog, a rat, etc. - Sheepba in particular became particularly popular. Why? Is it the floofy body? The innocent expression? Nay. I say there’s but one reason for Sheepba’s popularity in comparison to other Chinese Zodiac/Alba hybrids-

Haruhara has produced a crapton of Sheepba merch over the years.

I believe he’s made coloured sheep versions of other characters too for merch, but I unfortunately wasn’t able to find any of them. I was, however, able to find outlined drawings of them:

(Image from Haruhara’s twitter.)

Enjoy this flock of Senyuu sheep. And be prepared to see some uh... questionable things if you choose to browse the ひつじるば - Hitsujiba tag.

Wild West

This AU comes from the Wild West parody in this chapter. The fanworks I’ve seen tend to have Ros be some dangerous outlaw with a huge bounty.

Obscure AUs/Outfit Changes

These AUs tend to be only used as outfit changes, or aren’t seen often at all.

Feral Ros + Adventurer Alba

Basically a Tarzan AU. Based on this Haruhara Channel comic: Official Japanese | English Scanlation.

Formal Wear

You may sometimes see Alba and Ros wearing suits. There’s two pieces of art this originates from:

(Image from Haruahara’s twitter.)

(Image from Haruhara’s twitter.)

There’s also a corresponding Ros-in-suit-with-striped-shirt photo that you can see in the artbook here.

Karaoke

You may have seen characters dressed up as what seemed like waiter outfits. That may have come from the Senyuu Karaoke collaboration that happened around when the anime aired:

(Image from collaboration website.)

Kindergarten

This comes from the recent Haruhara Robinson channel comics - Senyuu Kindergarten Story #1 and Story #2.

It features Alba and Rchi as kindergarten teachers to the rest of the Senyuu cast.

Saeki-san

Haruhara was the writer for a manga called Dignified Asleep Saeki-san (Official Japanese | English Scanlations), which was a romcom that featured a girl called Saeki determined to sleep in class, and a boy called Tokimiya who sits next to her.

When the manga began serialization, Haruhara drew a parody sketch of the manga where Ros is Tokimiya and Alba is Saeki.

(Image from Haruhara’s twitter.)

Scientist Ros

You may have seen art of Ros wearing the glasses + lab coat combo from when he made the Mana Maker in season 3:

Or from when Alba had his... questionable body measurement exam in Senyuu+:

Or when they both wore glasses in the Haruhara Robinson Channel doujinshi Crea-kun Has Cheerfully Fallen to the Dark Side:

University

A while back, Haruhara drew a picture of Alba and Ros in the winter wearing coats:

(Image from Haruhara’s pixiv.)

A little more recently, he was commission to redraw the image:

(Image from Haruhara’s pixiv.)

Fanworks that use Alba and Ros in these outfits often treat them as university AUs (and usually have them on a date.)

Urashima Tarou

Urashima Tarou is an old Japanese fairytale which Haruhara used as the setting for one of his omake segments. If you’ve seen turtle Alba:

Or Ros in old-timey fishing clothes:

That’s where it’s from.

Vampire Ros

The typical Vampire Ros design comes from an SQ chapter where Alba and Ros disguise themselves as demons after chasing Elf into the demon world.

Alba is usually either a werewolf (presumably because werewolves and vampires are a common pair) or some hapless human that Ros sucks blood from.

Wedding

(Image from Haruhara’s twitter.)

Haruhara drew this when he was getting married(?) because it apparently felt less embarrassing to draw his protagonist getting married than to draw him and his wife.

Fans promptly used the outfit to marry Alba off to Ros, likely galvanized by the Mana Maker + Hero Symbol combo on Alba’s head.

Canon Adjacent AUs/Canon Alternate Characters

Moved to an overflow post here because this one got big enough that Tumblr stopped saving my post.

#senyuu #senyuu content #senyuu spoilers #my commentary #no point in tagging much #there's an approximately 0% chance tumblr will let this show up in search #I added so many links and images

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gloamingdawn · 4 years

Note

I adore Lyn! But I am quite confused, is she a valkyr? Is she undead? I love the themes of her but I'm just curious.

Well! This has been ongoing story for about four years now. It’s a little complicated and very long, so I’m gonna put it behind a read-more!

tl;dr - She is technically still alive, but did die and kind of found a bug in the Titan framework due to how she died that was the catalyst to this whole thing. She did not officially advance through the proper trials to become a fully fledged Val’kyr when she died, but was given a gift that allows her to assume the legitimate form of one, and has other abilities as a result that fall in line with what the Val’kyr are meant to do in the grand scheme of death. This has kinda made it hard for her to justify ICly if she’s actually alive or dead or something in-between (she’s definitely alive though, which is important for Shadowlands plot).

So, a couple of years ago while fighting with a mercenary company on the Broken Shore she 100% died. Unquestionably. She remembers being dead -- and through a huge fluke in the Titanic watcher operating system, she hit a couple really major categories for filtering directly into Valkyra and the Halls of Valor to go through the official trials to become a Val’kyr: 1) Die in battle in a realm overseen by Odyn 2) Be the best female fighter of a generation Point 2 gets extra weird because the majority of her generation may have legitimately already died thanks to the scourge siege and all the wars in between, and elvish generations don’t necessarily overlay onto the traditional vrykul generations well. She still hasn’t figured out herself exactly where the bug happened in that one.

Previous, even, to dying on the Broken Shore she proved her worthiness in battle against a tribe in the Howling Fjord some years before, even with her magic forcibly rune-bound within her body so she was already kind of “on the radar” as it were.

She was brought before Eyir, and rather than send her through the traditional trials -- Eyir elected to send her back to Azeroth with no real explanation as to why. Just a command to do her bidding back among the living. Queen Ashildir kindly gave Lyn a few parting “gifts” as part of this before literally shoving her spirit out of the Halls.

When she woke up, centuries of past lingering injuries were gone and all the rune scars from that previous binding in the Fjord were changed into runes of power. Lyn’s spent about three years at this point in a body that she knows isn’t hers, and she’s still really not sure what happened there or how -- it’s been an ongoing crisis for her as to whether or not she’s actually alive or dead as a result. She’s leaning more toward alive these days, but she’s got a massive amount of dysmorphia around what she knew of her previous body and what she came back in.

The “gifts” she was given were a new, constant sense of the general state of life in everyone around her -- something she’s used to great effect in healing tents on the battlefield and in the emergency room. She has the ability to literally turn into a Val’kyr for a brief amount of time to protect herself from harm, and in that brief amount of time she has a kind of spectral sight that lets her physically see people’s souls.

She also was granted the ability to pass through the world of the living and into the Shadowlands in the spots where the veil thinned out which is ultimately how she’s been getting around the world for the last couple of years. Part of this gift translated into shepherding the spirits of the newly and not-so-newly dead along like a proper Val’kyr would actually do.

As part of trying to “find her way” in whatever this new life is, she did officially join the ranks of the living aspirants in Skold Ashil to mixed approval and prejudice. She takes part in the traditional rites and ceremonies, she trains with the other aspirants, and she fully expects that when she is inevitably killed with her spear in her hand that she will face the official trials. They call her Alvilda (”warrior elf”) because they do recognize the Elves has existing and falling into their own place in Midgard/Azeroth, it’s just a little odd that she’s there with them.

HOWEVER -- this has all gotten even more complicated now that Lyn 100% for a fact knows that she was sent back to do Eyir’s “bidding” to fix the problems that Sylvanas has caused with the Shadowlands as far back as the events in the Legion expansion, because the dead can’t. As kind of an “apology” Eyir did officially have the black joke armor that was made for Lyn by the women of Skold Ashil turned into true, golden Valkyra plate so everyone would know she’s legitimately an avatar of the Goddess’ will and acting in her favor.

Lyn’s started to suspect that the reason why the earlier Point 2 filter caught her is because she and Sylvanas are from the same culture/similar generations, but this hasn’t been confirmed to her and she really hasn’t had a chance to ask.

She also feels like Eyir is a weird aspect of the Light, which does fall into her original religious upbringing and she doesn’t feel like she’s really deviated from those prior teachings. It’s just gotten weird.

Thanks @lariadnedawnburn!

#lariadnedawnburn

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teatitty · 4 years

Text

Jailhouse Rock

A/N: Hey remember when I said I wanted to write a traditional fantasy AU with Patrochilles and DiarCu? This is based in that. I hate copy-pasting things to tumblr bc it never keeps my italics and I’m too lazy to edit this so here it is on AO3 as well

Days of peace were rare for Patroclus; even rarer still were the days without Achilles or Cu Chulainn around to stir up mischief. On his own, Patroclus liked to think he was a perfect example of good behaviour and that his own troublemaking was nothing more than a direct result of knowing two of the biggest arseholes this side of the continent, but whenever he voiced such a thing out loud, the response from his companions was always an intense roll of the eyes and a bark of laughter, so maybe he was just lying to himself.

Given his current predicament, that certainly seemed to be the case. In retrospect, he should’ve figured he’d end up getting arrested one of these days, but when you spend most of your time in the company of two people who somehow - consistently - manage to get themselves out of trouble, well, you sort of forget that consequences for your actions are a thing you need to worry about.

In his own defense, he hadn’t planned on getting arrested. It isn’t much of a defense, because he cannot recall a single person who has ever wanted to get thrown into a jail cell with shackles on their wrists (it didn’t matter that his own had been taken off earlier, it mattered that they’d bothered to put any on him in the first place), but he also hasn’t met every single person on the planet, so he supposes the defense counts for something.

He wonders who Achilles will be angrier at when he finds out about this; Patroclus, for punching the stupid fucking Guard in the face and breaking his pompous nose, or the Guard himself, for calling re-inforcements and manhandling Patroclus into this dingy, damp little cell. It’s not a matter of if Achilles will find out, so much as when he finds out, and Patroclus can only hope it’s soon, because he’s only been in here for a few hours and he’s already bored out of his god-damned mind.

The Guards posted outside of his cell won’t even talk to him. It’s extremely rude, in his opinion, not to entertain a guest when they’re groaning pitifully on the floor, even if said groaning was mostly due to the head pain. He really needs to learn the name of the Guard who clonked him. Bastard had a real mean arm and Patroclus itches to get some sort of revenge for the hit.

Alas, it doesn’t seem as though he’ll be getting that information anytime soon. He’ll just have to track the guy down once he gets sprung from this place and then clonk them from behind and see how they like it.

“You know,” he says conversationally, “if you ask me, I did you all a favour. I mean, he just has one of those voices, you know? The really annoying ones? The ones that just invite you to hit someone?” Nothing. Typical. Patroclus sighs up at the ceiling with exaggerated effort. “I love our little talks. Can’t get enough of them, truly.”

Maybe, if he talks long enough, one of them will actually tell him to shut up instead of just trying to glare holes into him through their helmets. Patroclus snorts at the thought. If that worked, then Achilles would’ve been dead a hundred times over by now. Or just covered in a lot more scars than he already has. Which is none. Obviously. Ugh, he really needs to get better company.

As if the Gods themselves heard his plea and were, for once in their lives, actually offering to help him, a commotion from the halls causes him to sit up with immense interest, and the Guards by his cell close their eyes and actually groan.

Whoever is being led - in chains? Sounds like it - down the hall, everyone clearly knows them, because even the other prisoners, who’ve been silent until now, start murmuring curses to themselves.

Finally, Patroclus thinks, some variety.

“ - I just think that in the grand scheme of things - and purely for everyone else’s interest, of course - that stealing a few rings from the locals isn’t that big of a deal when I’m just going to be selling them later. I’m helping the economy! Helping you pass money from one hand to another and get it circulating. How’s your wife, by the way, is she still getting the bad cramps? Of course she is. I can see it in your face. You really should take my advice and -”

“Diarmuid.” A Guard has never sounded so long-suffering before.

“Hm?”

“Shut up and get in the damn cell.”

Surprisingly enough, with a huge stroke of good fortune, the cell that this blessing in disguise - Diarmuid, his name is Diarmuid, Patroclus reminds himself. He’s never been very good at names - is dancing his way into, happens to be Patroclus’ very own, and he finds himself looking at a man who is decidedly, one hundred percent, not human at all.

Patroclus grins, absolutely delighted by this turn of events. Diarmuid, noticing that he is not alone in this cell, cocks his head to the side and just sort of. Stands there. Presumably blinking at him, but it’s hard to tell behind the tinted glasses perched on his nose. “Oh my gods,” Patroclus says before he can stop himself, “are you an elf?”

“No,” replies Diarmuid slowly. “But I can see why you’d think that.”

“He’s a menace,” one of the Guards mutters and Patroclus’ grin only widens.

“I knew you could talk,” he tells them and then to Diarmuid he says, “you have no idea how long I’ve been trying to get them to say something.”

“Oh,” Diarmuid says, “I’m not hallucinating then.”

“Not used to having company?”

“Not usually.”

He looks - well, if Patroclus had to hazard a guess, he’d say that Diarmuid looks completely out of his depth. “Don’t worry,” Patroclus tells him. “I don’t bite.” Which isn’t entirely a lie. He doesn’t bite usually but all bets are off when tavern brawls happen.

Diarmuid’s nose wrinkles. “Is that a hickey?”

It is, actually, though it’s a wonder he can see it at all amidst the other bruising. “I don’t bite,” Patroclus repeats, “but my boyfriend’s a bit of a dick.”

Something in Diarmuid’s posture relaxes at that admission, which is very interesting, and Patroclus pats the spot beside himself invitingly. He’s actually surprised when Diarmuid sits next to him. He’s less surprised that there’s an obvious gap being kept between them and that, unlike himself, Diarmuid’s posture remains straight and alert.

“Soooo…” Patroclus starts, “what are you in for?”

“That’s the best you could do, huh?”

Oh, a snarky one is he? Good thing Patroclus is used to that, or he might actually find this guy irritating. “What do you want me to start with, then? The fact that you’re apparently a regular visitor here? That you probably know everyone’s first names and family histories?”

“I wish he didn’t,” mutters the other Guard forlornly.

“Shut up,” hisses the first one, “don’t encourage them.”

“Too late for that,” they say in unison. The Guards curse.

There’s a long beat of silence as Patroclus waits to see if Diarmuid will reply to his earlier question. His patience pays off when, finally, Diarmuid sighs and says, “I got caught selling stolen goods for twice the profit.”

Patroclus whistles. “Impressive.” He means it. Sure, he got caught doing it, but the fact he had the balls to try at all - and, by the sounds of it, actually managed to make some of said profit - is worth applauding.

“And you?”

Patroclus shrugs. “Broke someone’s nose.”

“Holy shit,” Diarmuid breathes, “you’re the guy who finally shut Claudius’ trap up?”

“His name is Claudius?” A nod. “No wonder he’s such a dick, then. Hey! Tell your boss that I don’t regret what I did, alright? With a name like that, he had it coming to him!”

“You’re going to get a longer sentence if you do that.” Diarmuid sounds amused as anything. Patroclus grins back at him. He wonders how long Diarmuid’s sentence is and how many times he’s gotten his way out of it.

“Nah,” he says. “I’ll be out by tomorrow.”

“Because of your boyfriend?”

“Something like that.”

“Lucky,” Diarmuid whines. “I have to rely on my natural charm, and here you are getting Out Of Jail cards for free.”

They’re only ‘free’ if you don’t count the cost on Patroclus’ brain cell capacity, because for all that he loves Achilles with his entire soul, his boyfriend is, in fact, an idiot, and this has only seemed to get worse since they met Cu Chulainn a few years back. How does that saying go again? ‘Birds of a feather flock together?’

What does it say about him that he’s part of this flock? Nothing good, probably, so best not to think too much about it.

“Are you a vampire?”

“Okay, now you’re just naming every creature with pointy ears.”

Patroclus slumps down in his seat. “I don’t have much else to go on.” And it doesn’t look like Diarmuid is going to willingly give him any hints. “A dragonborn, maybe?”

Alright, maybe that one's a little bit of a deep cut, given how rare they are these days, but, hey, if he’s going for every race with pointed ears then…

“Also,” he continues, “you’re not a ‘creature’ you’re just a different race to a human.”

“Flattering,” Diarmuid says dryly. Patroclus doesn’t really get how any of that is ‘flattering’ in any way, shape or form but then what does he know? He’s human, after all, so maybe he really has just said something that - whatever. Doesn’t matter. He’s making friends! Cu will be so proud of him.

Does he have a concussion? Probably. None of his thoughts are making any sense today.

“I’m not a dragonborn.”

Okay, strike two off the list.

“Or a vampire.”

Strike three.

This would be so much easier if he wasn’t just relying on ‘ears pointy’ because that...really doesn’t narrow it down a whole lot. Are there really that many races with pointed ears? How has he never noticed this before? “You sure you’re not an elf? Or, like, elf adjacent?”

“If you were anyone else,” says Diarmuid, “I would’ve hit you for that. Luckily for you, I’m pretty sure you’re just a mouthy moron like I am, so congrats on saving your own skin, I guess.”

“It’s a gift,” he grins.

Diarmuid snorts. Progress is being made. Fuck yeah. “You’re not used to being in a cell, are you?”

Patroclus shrugs. “Not particularly.”

“First time?”

Oh now that’s just too easy a line to pass up. “Being in the company of a gorgeous man like yourself?” His lashes flutter and Diarmuid actually looks a little bit bewildered. “Hardly.”

“You...have a boyfriend.”

Astute of him.

“I do,” he agrees. “We have a comfortable and confident relationship.” By which he means that they’re allowed to flirt with whoever they want, whenever they want, it’s just dating and sex that are off limits until further discussion. Diarmuid - doesn’t really seem to get what he means. Which. Okay then. “Flirting is fine,” he clarifies with an easy tone.

“Oh.”

He still sounds a bit miffed by the whole thing so, in an effort to bring them back to their earlier comfort levels, Patroclus says, “lets play a game.”

Diarmuid stares at him. “A game,” he repeats.

“Just something to pass the time.”

“Am I going crazy or are you always like this?”

“It’s just me.” He feels no embarrassment in admitting it either. His mouth often moves faster than his brain can catch up, or his brain will move faster than his mouth, and rarely do they ever operate at the same capacity as each other. He forgets that not everyone can keep up with his rapid changes in conversation. Achilles’ mother is the only one who can understand him all of the time, but she’s back home in her river, so he has to - make an effort to slow down a little bit here.

How annoying.

“Ever heard of 21 Questions?”

The silence continues for long enough this time that Patroclus is almost completely certain he’s just gotten rejected. Diarmuid sighs. “Sure. I reserve the right to refuse answering anything personal, though.”

For all his earlier chatter, he’s surprisingly guarded and private. This, along with his keeping his own race a secret, intrigues Patroclus a lot more than it should. There’s a dull and distant warning bell ringing in his head; caution, it screeches, CAUTION.

“I reserve the same thing, then.”

Diarmuid blows some hair out of his face and, presumably, rolls his eyes behind his glasses. “I suppose,” he sighs dramatically. His lip twitches into a smile. Generously, Patroclus lets him go first. “What’s your name?”

He blinks, startled, and then laughs. “Oh I’m such an idiot,” he says and then holds out his hand. Diarmuid is wearing leather gloves under his shackles. Interesting. “It’s Patroclus. Pleasure to meet you.”

His grip is a little firmer than Patroclus expected but nowhere near the strength of Cu Chulainn’s. Which is a bit of an unfair comparison considering Cu’s specific bloodline but. Well. He doesn’t have a whole lot of non-human references to go on. Diarmuid holds himself as though he’s waiting to get shanked in the gut and Patroclus, ever so politely, asks, “what’s your favourite drink?”

Diarmuid blinks. “What?”

“Ah-ah-ah,” he chides, wagging his finger. “Not your turn to ask a question.”

“...tequila,” Diarmuid says at last.

“Oh that’s strong! I thought you might be an ale drinker, what with all the leathers and the -” he gestures to the window of the cell, hoping to encompass the city as a whole.

“Ah,” says Diarmuid. “Ale’s too bitter for me.”

“And tequila isn’t?”

His lip quirks. “Not your turn.”

“Right you are! Continue, then.”

“Who's your boyfriend?”

He doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Achilles.”

Diarmuid promptly chokes, as do the Guards outside. “You’re kidding. You don’t mean - you can’t mean -”

Patroclus inclines his head, delighted by the reaction. Achilles is famous here! Who knew!

“Holy shit.” Diarmuid’s voice raises a few octaves. “He’s going to kill me.”

“I doubt it,” says Patroclus dryly. “He’s more likely to whine about me getting better prison company than he did.”

“I’m not talking about Achilles,” hisses Diarmuid. “I’m talking about Cu Chulainn!”

Wait.

Wait a second.

Patroclus takes a step back to examine the man before him. Dark, curly hair? Check. A penchant for getting arrested? From what he can gather, check. Pointy ears? Absolutely. And -

He leans closer to try and get a whiff of whatever scent Diarmuid carries.

-- the distinct smell of a winter breeze.

A lot of different things fall into place at once.

“You’re the friend that Cu’s been looking for. The one that lost his favourite jacket.”

“I’m dead,” says Diarmuid. “I’ve been trying to get it back for him and now I’m going to die before I get the chance.”

“Is that why you were selling stolen goods?”

Reluctantly, Diarmuid nods. “I know where it is,” he admits mulishly. “I just don’t have the money to buy it back.”

Patroclus thinks this over. He doesn’t have any money either. Fuck it, he thinks, we’re already criminals anyway.

“Okay,” he says. “If you can get us out of here, I’ll help you get it back.”

“Don’t even try it,” warns Guard number one.

Diarmuid gives Patroclus a pathetically hopeful look. “You will?”

“Yes. On the condition,” he continues, “that you return it to him in person.”

“You know where he is.”

“I know where he is.”

Diarmuid considers this for all of two seconds. “Deal.”

And then he slips out of his shackles and shatters the fucking window with them.

#fate series #my writing #2.6K words of crack tbh #i dont know what this is please just take it

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for-fucks-sake-h · 5 years

Text

Smooth Operator: Part One

Word Count: 7.2k // Rated: M, mature // Story Page

*Y/N’s texts are in italics. Harry’s texts are in bold.*

The oc version of this story can be found on Wattpad.

***

She’s exhausted. Exhausted isn’t even the word anymore. What would be the word for being so overworked, lonely, and horny all at the same time? Excruciating? Sure, that works.

Her job was grueling but she loved it. She worked hard for it. After years of schooling and months applying to positions she dreamed of, she was offered the opportunity of a lifetime as a lead forensic anthropologist. All of the blood, sweat, and tears to get her masters so she would be able to work in the field of her dreams paid off. She packed her entire life up in a week’s time and moved across the world to make a home for herself in London.

It’s been eight months and while she has had the time of her life working at a job she put her entire soul into, she can’t help but admit that it’s lonely sometimes. It’s long days of meticulous work that makes her so happy but also completely drains her by the end of it. So, that doesn’t leave her with much energy for a social life. And if she’s being honest with herself, being outgoing doesn’t come naturally for her. She’s adjusting, slower than she would like, but she’s proud of the progress she’s made so far and the life she’s built.

She left a lot of things back home; her family, her friends, a man that she thought she loved but was not as torn up about the departure as she thought he would be. She said goodbye to the only life she knew for the last 26 years to start a completely fresh chapter. A chapter she hoped would be filled with warm memories, success, and happiness.

She’s grateful for the job she gets to do. Beyond happy that she gets to do something she loves and live a comfortable life in one of the best cities in the world. She has met some amazing people in the time she’s been here. She’s gotten to work with some of the top anthropologists in the world, has seen the most amazing research, and has gotten to be involved in the biggest case study her company has done thus far. And she’s been lucky enough to make some friends that she easily considers family now.

El and Bec, short for Elizabeth and Rebecca, have become the closest friends she’s ever had. For not knowing each other that long in the grand scheme of things, they have woven each other into each of their lives as if they were always meant to be there. They work together often on specific cases and to be able to work with people who are brilliant at what they do and also just brilliant people is rare and beautiful.

It was only about a month after she moved there that she would be spending her first Christmas alone. She definitely wasn’t established enough to be able to afford the time off or the travel expenses to go home for the holiday so she resided herself to the idea of a Skype call with her family on Christmas Day and Christmas movies on her couch in her pajamas. However, El and Bec had different plans and invited her to spend the holiday with them.

Bec comes from a big Italian family who graciously makes the trip to her every year and spends nearly a month with her from mid December until after the New Year. El and Bec have spent the last three Christmas’ together, with El having lived in London since she was little but without much close family nearby anymore, they started the tradition together.

When she mentioned her plans of Chinese food and pj's for Christmas, El and Bec shared a look before El sweetly asked - no, begged - her to join them instead. She tried to decline at first but they weren’t hearing it. So she kissed her dog on the head as he snoozed on the couch and trekked herself to the train to arrive at Bec’s flat with a bottle of wine in tow.

With two quiet knocks to the door she was immediately bombarded with the smell of what she could only imagine was homemade sauce and the sound of laughter when an older man, who she would come to know as Bec’s dad, opened the door for her. He welcomed her with a kiss to each cheek and ushered her into the flat, offering to take her coat and wine from her. And as she nervously made her way further into the space she was greeted with a multitude of warm, brown eyes - all matching Bec’s.

“Don’t just stand there bella, get in here! We’re playing Rummy!” A boisterous voice came from the corner of the kitchen. A woman, dressed to the nines with beautiful chocolate brown hair and big, dark eyes smiled at her and waved her over. She should have known it was Bec’s mom. They have the same inviting smile and nurturing persona.

And so she did. She played Rummy and laughed with everyone and even cracked a joke about a hula hoop that wasn’t really funny, but her delivery got everyone into a fit of giggles. She ate Eggplant Parmesan with them, passing full dishes around of all the other food so everyone could get a little bit of everything. She talked about her move and her family over coffee with Bec, her mom, and El as the rest of the family watched Elf in the living room. ��Later in the evening, when it was starting to get late and things were dying down, she was sat next to Bec’s dad while she played silent night on a keyboard that was situated against the far wall of the flat.

They bonded more that night than friends bond over the course of months. Instantly clicking as if they had known each other for years. And now here they are.

“Rocco, get down! God!” Y/N exaggerated as she pulled the dogs paws from Bec’s shoulders as he tried to sneak one more lick to her face.

“He’s fine babe!” Bec chuckles as she kneels down to hug the big dog.

“This is every time, just let her make out with him for a minute and he’ll be fine,” El chimes in as she tries to step over Bec and Rocco’s display of love currently taking place on the floor.

“I know, I don’t know why I bother,” Y/N says as she takes the bags from El’s arms and pointedly looks at Bec still on the floor with Rocco still licking her face.

“Not my fault your dog loves me more than you,” Bec mumbles followed by a squeak when the dog wet willies her. “You know what Rocco, you always have to take it too far, don’t you buddy? Men!”

The other two girls are giggling at Bec’s exasperated tone as she pushes herself up off the floor. This is nearly every Saturday. The girls come over to Y/N’s flat with some kind of food in hand. Bec immediately falls to the floor to cuddle Rocco while the other girls go straight to the kitchen to pour drinks.

“What are we having?!” Bec asks excitedly and a little breathless when she comes around the corner.

“Peach Bellinis!” Y/N says with a smile as she hands her friend a glass. “I have bagels for us too. Did you guys bring the stuff for the omelettes?”

“Sure did, even went as far to get the really expensive cheese just for you, Y/N.” El talks with her back to the other girls as she empties the bags on the counter.

“Um, I like that cheese too,” Bec chimes in with a pout before taking a sip of her drink. “Fuck! This is really good!”

“Alright, let’s not guzzle it, babe,” Y/N laughs as she pours some oil in the pan to saute the mushrooms El is handing to her.

They fall into easy chatter as Y/N makes their omelettes while El throws a couple bagels in the toaster. Before long she’s plating their omelettes and scooping fresh fruit onto the dish as well. El has the bagels and spreads on a plate in the center of the island as Bec refills their drinks. They get situated around the counter and start to dig in but Y/N doesn’t get further than two bites before there’s a knock on her door.

“Why is this everything fucking weekend?” she rolls her eyes as she chuckles, pushing her stool back from the island.

She basically stomps her way over to her door, pulling it open quickly with a bemused look on her face. “Hello Andrew,” she says flatly.

“Hey babe, you busy?” He smiles.

Andrew, her neighbor, appears at her door almost every weekend, usually perfectly timed while the girls are over.

“You already know I am.”

“I know you have bagels in there too, Y/N. Spare one for your favorite neighbor and I’ll be on my way.”

She huffs as she leaves him in the doorway to go back to the kitchen. Bec and El’s eyes are already on her when she turns the corner.

“Pain in the ass wants a bagel!” She exclaims loud enough for him to hear.

“You’re such a fucking leech, Drew!” Bec calls out to him.

The girls are giggling as Y/N fixes the damn bagel quickly, wrapping it up in a napkin to deliver it to him.

“You’re the best, Y/N.” His smile is huge as she walks over to him with her arm extending the food out to him. “You got plans tonight? I can repay you with dinner at mine.”

“Aw, I can’t Drew, I have a submission due Monday for my case and still have a lot to go over.”

“No biggie, next time.” He says casually with a smile, “Have a great day, ladies!” He calls to the girls in the kitchen as he gives Y/N a wink before turning to go back to his apartment next door.

“Think he’s in love with you,” Bec says as Y/N is coming back into the kitchen.

“I don’t know,” Y/N releases a puff of air before continuing, “He’s really nice but I don’t want to lead him on.”

“Just fuck him already, put him out of his misery.” El chuckles around a bite of food.

“I just said I don’t want to lead him on!” Y/N laughs as she climbs onto her stool again. “You guys know I don’t have time to start that right now.”

“You can just sleep with him Y/N,” Bec interjects, “You don’t have to date him.”

“He’s cute and all but I just don’t see him like that. He’s a friend. Which sucks because it would be convenient with him being next door and all.” Y/N laughs lightly.

“So convenient!” Bec chuckles sarcastically.

“Yeah, if the most enticing thing is the convenience it’s not worth it,” El says before taking an exceptionally large bite of her bagel.

“My thoughts exactly,” Y/N agrees, “It does suck though. I haven’t even been on a date since moving here, let alone had sex. Not that anyone is knocking down my door-”

“Andrew is,” Bec interrupts with a chuckle, “literally.”

“You don’t really put yourself out there either babe,” El says softly.

“I know. You know how I get. I’m nervous meeting new people and honestly I’m too tired most of the time to even go out and try.”

“Yeah, but what are you gonna do, never have sex again?” Bec questions with her eyes wide as saucers.

“Even if I did go out, I can’t do one night stands. I just can’t get into if I don’t know the person. Which blows because my vibrator is seriously lacking lately.”

“Sounds like nothing’s blowing,” Bec mumbles before getting a whack to her arm from El.

It’s quiet for a few minutes as the girls finish their food. El leans back in her chair with her drink in hand, “What about phone sex?”

Y/N chuckles, “What about it?”

“Would you be into it?”

It’s quiet for another moment, all three of the girls eyes flicking back and forth between the others.

“I dunno, sure. I mean, what am I gonna do, just try to find a random guy to call?” Y/N chuckles.

“Alright, don’t shoot me down before you really listen, okay?” El says, eyes intent on her friends. “I have a friend that has used this service that you can call. You pick someone based on their profile.”

“And have phone sex with them? I don’t think so.” Y/N shakes her head, immediately put off with the idea.

“I just said to hear me out!”

“That just doesn’t sound like something I would like.”

“Y/N,” Bec says quietly, both of her friends looking at her with raised eyebrows.

She opens her mouth to speak again, to knock the idea out of their heads, but instead decides to huff and close her mouth again. These girls care about her, she brought up something that’s bothering her and they’re trying to find a solution, like good friends. The least she could do was listen. So she grabs her drink again, takes a big gulp and leans back in her chair as a motion to continue.

El takes another swig of her drink before continuing, “You wouldn’t have to leave your flat. You wouldn’t even have to leave your bed. No getting ready, no going out to sketchy bars meeting sketchier guys.”

“In theory, yes, it sounds like a good idea. But I don’t like one night stands. You think I’ll be able to just call someone and have phone sex with them?” Y/N questions, speaking quickly as she tries to explain to her friends why this isn’t for her. “Where’s the intimacy?”

“That’s the thing though, you could have intimacy,” El argues. “They have very in depth profiles. Everything from physical features, what they’re into sexually, what books they like-”

“The books they like?” Y/N questions with a raised brow.

“Yes, the whole point is for you to build a connection with someone. The workers want to build a connection with you too. It’s not like a sleazy phone service you’re thinking it is. They get off with you.”

“Shit... can I get the number?” Bec chimes in with bright eyes and a raised brow.

They’re all quiet for a few seconds before breaking into laughter, giggling into their drinks as the tenseness in the room dies down. And as the laughter subsides Y/N thinks about how much she trusts her friends. They only want to help.

“Alright, I’ll look at it. No promises!” Y/N points her finger back and forth between her friends.

“Where’s your laptop? I’ll bookmark it for you,” El says as she pushes her chair back while grabbing her plate.

“On the coffee table.”

“I don’t know, Y/N. Sounds pretty good to me,” Bec says with an optimistic smile as El puts her dish in the sink and goes to plop down on the sofa. “You might like it.”

“Maybe. It would take the hassle of actually going out to the bar. I hate going to the bar, the men are always shit.” Y/N laughs as Bec raised her glass to clink it against hers and finishes off her drink.

“There!” El says excitedly as she closes the laptop. “Just take a look at it. You never know.”

Y/N agrees that she’ll look at it later, reiterating that if it doesn’t seem like something she can get into they’ll have to squash it. The girls stayed for another few hours, snuggled up on the couch to watch Pretty Woman as they sipped their Bellinis. They helped Y/N straighten up her kitchen before giving cheek kisses and “see you Monday” promises were called from the door.

Later that evening, after spending nearly four hours working on her case, she carried her laptop into her room to toss it on her bed as she went to take a quick shower. It was nearly 11pm when she was finished doing her normal nighttime routine of lathering herself with daisy scented body lotion and face moisturizer.

She climbed into bed with wet hair to scroll through some of her social media but paused as soon as she clicked on the browser, her eyes immediately going to the little bookmark below her search bar that El labeled give me a try. She hovered her mouse over it for a moment before clicking on it.

She was brought to a sign up prompt asking for basic info like her name, email, age, etc. She filled in the fields and accepted the terms, her heart rate picking up a tiny bit before clicking continue only to be prompted with another set of questions. She noticed the bottom of the page was number 2 of 6, making her huff with a shake of her head as she closed her laptop.

She sat there for a minute, fingers tapping on the top of the computer before slowly opening it again. She went through the rest of the questions slowly, asking her what her sexual preferences were, kinks, fantasies; questions that would help narrow down her choices of profiles and suggestions.

The last question was a simple “What are you looking for?” with a four prompt answer just like the others. She clicked the last choice, I don’t know.

She really didn’t know. She was still very skeptical about the whole thing. But she accepted the terms, entered her credit card information, and was met with a list of 50 initial matches.

She started clicking on random profiles, coming across detailed pages of men describing themselves, their nationality, physical features like eye color, hair color, build. There were lists of their favorite food, TV shows they like, books they love, just like El said. There was a section for their sexual interests, each profile listing what they were into both in real life and over the phone. And each profile had a voice memo.

She looked through a few of them, liking certain things from each page but no one really standing out. If she was honest with herself, she was probably taking the profile too seriously. Should she be basing her decision on the books they’re reading and the food they like as much as what they like sexually? Probably not. But she couldn’t help herself. If she was going to do this she wanted to actually be able to talk to him, build some type of connection, just a small one so that it didn’t feel so impersonal.

She scrolled down another page when the user name Smooth Operator caught her eye, making her chuckle lightly. She clicked on his profile and started scanning through his answers to the prompts; green eyes, brown hair, six foot. He was British, 25 years old, and enjoyed playing the guitar in his spare time.

He likes books like Rob Sheffield’s Love is a Mix Tape. Okay, that earned him a point. She went through the rest of his profile, laughing at the little quips he gave as answers. He seemed light and funny, if she could judge him based solely on his profile. She read what he liked during sex, her cheeks going warm at some of the things listed.

They seemed to be on the same page with interests. That was one of the things about Y/N though, she wasn’t into anything hardcore but she also didn’t want to just label herself vanilla either. She just couldn’t express the things she really wanted unless she knew the person, until she felt safe with them. That was one of the main reasons she didn’t like one night stands. She could never bring herself to get comfortable enough to enjoy it. The couple she had were quick, sloppy, missionary fucks that didn’t get her off and left her feeling unsatisfied physically and emotionally. She needed the emotions too.

Smooth Operator seemed like he wanted the same thing, mentioning one of the things he liked about this site was the unique connections he’s able to build with his clients. She read over his profile two times, biting her lip as she paused her cursor over his voice memo before clicking play.

“Hello, ‘m sure it’s probably weird to be on the receiving end of this but… If ya consider me, thank you, it would be an honor to talk with you. If not, I hope you find whatever it is that you’re looking fo’. Cheers.”

Her pulse picked up just at the few simple sentences. His voice was deep, so deep and he spoke so slowly. Something that would probably take her 10 seconds to say took him 15, but she liked it. He seemed unhurried, and sweet, and actually keen on conversation - not just having a wank at the sound of someone's voice and being done with it - so she clicked the accept button beside his username before she could talk herself out of it.

Her heart fluttered at the text field immediately popping up.

Thank you for choosing me! -H.

She realized quickly that it was just an automated message but it still made her heart flutter. She was definitely nervous. She sat there staring at her computer screen, not knowing what to do next. How does this work? Can she just message him? How quickly would they talk on the phone? How much time does he really give to talking before he’s moving the conversation to sex. It was the unknown that made her the most nervous.

Her eyes flick over to the glowing “Online” next to his username and just as quickly she notices the three tiny dots that appear in the text box. Shit.

Hi there. Thanks for choosing me. How are you? x

Alright, this is happening. She takes a deep breath before slowly typing her response with slightly shaky hands.

Hey! Of course. I really liked your profile. I’m good, can’t really complain. Nervous if anything. This is my first time on here.

Nothing to be nervous about. I’m a gentleman. Promise. My names Harry.

Of course it is, she thought. Of course he has a cute name.

Y/N. Nice to “meet” you Harry, haha.

A pleasure. What brings you on here?

She pauses for a second, shouldn’t that be pretty obvious? What with the nature of the website and its purpose? But in all honesty, she wasn’t sure what she was doing on there. She watched as the tiny dots appeared again before another message came through.

Share whatever you’re comfortable with.

He was sweet. She was also taking a really long time to answer.

Ha, thanks. I don’t really know. My friend told me about the site. I moved here a little less than a year ago and I work a lot. I’m not really into the bar scene but I guess I’m just looking for some companionship. And I haven’t had sex in a while, to be honest. Not really into one night stands but too busy to really start anything serious. So here I am.

She figured there was no reason to tiptoe around it. They both knew what the site was for, regardless of the connection either of them were looking to make.

Well I hope I can help. Whether you’re looking for someone to talk to or if you want to have an orgasm so you can fall asleep easily, I’m here. What do you do for work?

Her heart was pounding, guessing he didn’t see the point of tiptoeing around either. She liked how blunt he was, how he just laid it out there that he was down for either. And also how he kept the conversation going. She thought about if she should really tell him about her job. But the site was guaranteed 100% anonymous, if that was what you wanted.

That sounds great, Harry. I’m a forensic anthropologist.

What sounds great? The conversation or the orgasm?

She smirked at his reply. Okay, he’s cheeky.

Both? Both.

Good :) Forensic anthropologist? That’s fucking sick.

She smiled as his response, liking him already. He was easy to talk to, their conversation flowing without much effort. She told him a bit about her job and how she moved from the states. He told her how he works from home as an IT Tech and gives guitar lessons on the side, that he has a love for music and smart girls. They flirted, quick banter back and forth that had her smiling and blushing multiple times.

It was getting late and as much as she didn’t want to stop talking to him, she thought it was best to not get too carried away so quickly. As much as she’s enjoyed it, the whole thing still made her a bit leery. Talking to him made it easier, but she didn’t want to admit that yet.

It’s getting late, I should probably go to bed. It was really great talking to you, Harry. Talk to you soon xx

Looking forward to it x

***

He hasn’t been able to get her off his mind. It’s been a little over a week since they initially spoke and he couldn’t help but wonder if she had second thoughts about the whole thing. She seemed like she enjoyed talking to him. She gave him the lol’s at his lame jokes and came back at him with thick sarcasm and quick wit when she could.

He couldn’t remember the last time he really enjoyed a conversation like that, especially with it being their first. He has regular clients now that he’s built relationships with over time. But Y/N? It felt so easy with her. He wanted to know more about her. Things that interested her, what she was passionate about.

He also couldn’t help but wonder what a whimpered moan would sound like coming from her. He felt a little ashamed when the thought crossed his mind when she wrote “mmm” about a piece of chocolate cake that had her name on it for breakfast the next morning. His dick twitched at the thought, reacting without his permission before he even had the chance to think otherwise. That also hardly ever happened anymore. He’s been doing this for a while now and while sometimes he meets people that he clicks with relatively easy, he doesn’t get hard unless the conversation takes an obvious turn there.

He liked her.

He could have messaged her but he really didn’t like doing that, at least until they start to talk semi-regularly. He wants his clients to be comfortable and he definitely never wants them to feel any pressure. He thought about sending her a quick message anyway. Even going as far to type “Still here if you need me” into their text field before changing it to “Still here if you want me” but quickly deciding against it.

He never does this. He usually just follows his instincts and does whatever feels natural to him. She’s clouding his judgement though. He knew she was nervous the first night, understandably. He knows the circumstances are odd, having been doing this for a few years may have made him comfortable but definitely did not make him oblivious to reality. It was definitely odd. But he wanted her to reach out to him again and he wasn’t used to that.

More days passed as he found himself checking his messages to see if one came through from her yet. Once it had been two full weeks and he started to think he should just let it go. She was definitely not into this scenario. Or not into him, but choosing that she just didn’t like the circumstances to preserve his ego.

It was a little after 9pm as he was sprawled out on his couch watching The Notebook when he heard a faint ping come from his computer across the room. His heart dropped, his initial reaction to be hopeful that it was Y/N. He knew it was a message from his site from the sound but just as quickly as he thought maybe it was her he dismissed it, deciding to ignore it and focus his attention back on the film. Until he heard another ping, and another.

His curiosity got the best of him as he paused the movie and went over to open the laptop. He was leaning over the table, clicking to open his messages when his heart dropped into his stomach.

Hi Harry

I’m sorry I’ve been so MIA lately. I’ve been working on a huge case that I just finally wrapped up.

Anyway, didn’t want you to think I forgot about you.

Three messages one after another from Y/N. He smiled at the last one, she “didn’t want him to think she forgot about him”. So she’s been thinking about me, he thought. He pulled out the desk chair to get comfortable before replying.

It’s alright love. Everything turn out okay?

Yes, everything is good. It was just a lot. I’m so exhausted I feel like I could sleep for days haha.

There was nothing about her reply that should have made his heart flutter, but it did. He wanted her to get rest. He wanted her to get rest with him wrapped around her, holding her to his body. He furrowed his eyebrows as soon as he finished his thoughts. What was he doing? He barely knew this girl but the thought of holding her made him feel like a teenage boy the first time he talked to the opposite sex.

You should sleep while you have the time babe

He shook his head at himself as his cheeks burned once he realized he called her babe. He was typing out an apology, an explanation that wasn't really an explanation at all as to why he called her that when she replied before him.

Okay BABE lol I don’t want to sleep though…

His heart was pounding, both from her sarcastic babe in return and waiting for her to continue.

I would rather talk to you.

He took in a deep breath, reminding himself to chill. This was his job, this was what he was suppose to do and he needed to chill the fuck out.

Do you want to call me?

His pulse was racing, pumping blood into his cock at the thought of hearing her. She was all he’s thought about for the last couple weeks and now the thought of being able to hear her had him riled up already.

I was thinking we could text for now? Just not ready to talk on the phone yet. Hope that’s okay with you…

If he was being honest, texting was a lot harder for him. Of course he would do it but it took a lot more effort to try to gauge what she liked through text. On the phone, Harry could listen to her breathing pick up, he could hear a small moan escape her lips at something he says. Tell tale signs that she likes what he’s saying and fueling him to continue. All he has through texts are her words and all he could do is hope that she would be open with him.

Of course love. What are you doing now?

I just took the longest shower and now I’m in bed. I know, 9:30pm on a Saturday. Really living on the edge lol. What about you?

He chuckles at her response. She’s animated through texts. He feels like he can read her smirk and he likes it.

Lol my evening doesn’t look much different. Serious question though… are you a pajama wearer?

I’m more of a big t shirt kinda girl

Okay that’s good

Is it?

He bites his lip, debating what he should say. He wants to tell her that he likes it because then there wouldn’t be much in the way for him to get his hands on her skin. Warm from her shower and extra soft from the lotion she probably uses. But there is a part of him that wants to let her lead the conversation. He’s never been this torn trying to talk to someone.

I think it is.

He shakes his head at himself as he stares at the screen. He’s being weird, he knows he is. The minutes pass as he waits to see the three small dots indicating she’s typing, his pulse picking up the longer he doesn’t see them. Maybe she fell asleep. Maybe she isn’t impressed with his weak conversation. He twists the silver band he always has on his right middle finger as he waits, releasing a breath when he finally sees the dots.

Is it because that’s the only thing you would have to take off?

He blows air through his lips mouthing a thank you that she responded and said exactly what he was too afraid to say. She definitely wants this to happen. She wouldn’t have said that if he she didn’t.

That’s exactly why. Could get my hands on you the way I really want to.

Yeah? Are you in bed too?

He smiles at her reply. She wants them to be in bed at the same time. Hopefully so she can imagine them in bed together. He stands from his desk, unplugs his laptop and walks upstairs to his room to get into his bed.

I am now. And yeah, of course I do. Really want to feel you love

His heart was beating quickly as he typed his response, the beating increasing once he sent it. He didn’t want to come across too forward or make her uncomfortable but he wanted to be honest. He wanted her to know that he wanted her.

I want you to touch me too

Just those words had his lower stomach twisting deliciously and his dick twitching in his sweats. He was leaning back against his headboard with his laptop in his lap, his cock pressing against the bottom of the computer.

Tell me how you like to be touched

No one has ever really asked me that before. Um, my neck is really sensitive

So if I kissed down your neck to your chest, that would turn you on?

Mhm, so much Harry

He was trying to gauge how dirty she wanted to be talked to. Everyone was different, and that was usually something he could tell pretty easily over the phone. If her voice was breathy right now with a sort of whine of his name, she would want more. Something told him she did like it, so he went with instinct for the first time.

What about your clit? Is that sensitive too?

Fuck, yeah so sensitive

Bingo, he thought. All the blood in his body was pulsing to his dick now. He reached down to stroke himself over his sweats, wanting to relieve a little bit of pressure. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had gotten this hard this fast. She’s barely said anything yet he feels like his cock is screaming for attention.

Can you touch it for me? Circle it slow.

Just a little bit of pressure, Y/N. Barely tease yourself until you can’t take anymore.

He told her what to do, what he wanted to do so desperately. His mind was forming a picture of her spread open in front of him, her center dripping as he teased over her clit while she begged for more.

Oh my god Harry

It’s good right? Got you proper soaked?

Yeah I’m really wet. God.

He swallowed back a moan at her words, at the thought of her laying in her bed touching herself, doing exactly what he told her to do.

Fuck. Good, go a little faster yeah? Can you dip a finger into yourself? Bring some of that wetness up to your clit for me

He was squirming more and more as he told her how to touch herself. He wanted to hear her moan for him. To know what she sounded like when she couldn’t handle how much pleasure she was feeling. He was imagining what the noises of her fingers on her wet skin sounded like. God, he hoped she really was soaked right now. Soaked for him.

Shit Harry. I’m close already

His eyes rolled back and he pressed his head back into the headboard, whispering a quiet shit to himself as his hips pushed his cock against the computer more. He was dying to touch himself but not enough to stop typing.

I want you to cum. Please cum love

Fuck

He got that one word from her and then nothing for a couple moments. His breathing was heavy as he waited, his cock pulsing and his skin feeling like it was on fire he was so tingly. All he could think about is Y/N rolling her hips with the rhythm of her fingers until she came. He hoped she came hard.

His heart dropped to his stomach when he saw the three dots appear at the bottom of their thread again.

Wow

Not what I was expecting

His heart dropped again at her messages. Fuck, she didn’t like it? He was way too forward with her, he thought. He shouldn’t have gone right into it like that so quickly.

Shit, I’m sorry. I thought that was what you wanted..

It won’t happen again. Promise. Fuck

Harry omg I didn’t mean it as a bad thing! Relax. I loved it. I just meant I didn’t expect it to be that good.

I really thought it would be weird. Awkward, you know?

He let out a huge breath at her response. He really thought he fucked up with that one. That his instinct was just him convincing him that was what she wanted because that was what he actually wanted.

Don’t ever do that to me again lol I think we just click really well. I’m happy you enjoyed it.

And I really hope you orgasmed.

He wanted her to know that it wasn’t just talk. He wanted to make her feel good. That was the whole point of his job but for her, he had this extra need deep in his gut to make sure she was taken care of. Completely satisfied.

Oh I did. Don’t you worry about that.

Lol good. I never want you to go along with anything just to do it. The only way this works is if you’re honest with me and let me know what you’re thinking.

He was being honest with her in the hopes that it made her comfortable enough to be honest in return, to hopefully build more of a connection with him so that she could trust him. So that she would believe that he really was focused on making her feel good.

Deal.

That was good. Perfect even.

Are you sure you’re not just a narcissist?

Kidding.. kind of lol

He barked a laugh at her messages. She was playful just in the way she typed, her personality shining through the words like a ray of sunlight he wanted to burn into his skin.

Hahaha maybe a little ;)

What about you? There’s no way you were doing anything and typing at the same time.

Don’t worry about me love. This was about you. Plenty of time for me in the future.

His cock pulsed in annoyance as he typed. It was starting to get uncomfortable. He either needed to take a cold shower or come, leaning towards the first option because he wasn’t even sure he could touch himself without it hurting now.

Maybe next time we could focus on you? Or do it at the same time?

His heart fluttered at her response. That she wanted to make sure he felt good too.

Absolutely x

Just one more question then I’ll let you go

He was breathing deeply through his nose, his mouth dry as he watched the three dots come and go, waiting for her to continue. He didn’t want her to let him go.

Will you get yourself off once we’re done talking?

His lips quirked up in a smile.

Oh you like guys wanking do you?

Lol maybe

I might. It’s starting to… hurt. I’ve been hard for a while now.

I hope you get off Harry. And I hope you think of me when you do..

I would help but honestly I can barely keep my eyes open

His cock twitched again at her words. Fuck, who was this girl and what was she doing to him? He smiled as he typed the same response she gave him not too long ago.

Oh I will love. Don’t you worry about that.

You can help next time

Mm, good. Good night Harry x

Sleep tight Y/N xx

He watched her glowing online turn to grey before he threw his laptop to the side and pushed his sweats down to the middle of his thighs, not even bothering to take them off before he wrapped his hand around his cock.

His head fell back against the headboard with a thump as he stroked himself at a faster pace than he would normally start with. His cock was dripping precum and throbbing as he stroked his thumb over his tip.

He lifted his head up to watch his hand stroke his taut skin, his mouth hanging open in pleasure as he pushed himself closer to his orgasm. It only took four more pumps until he was coming. One, two, three squirts of cum flowing over his tip and down his fingers as he moaned deep from his chest.

His entire body relaxed, slumping against the headboard with his softening cock against his thigh and cum on his hand and pelvis. He sat there for a moment, catching his breath as he came down, feeling a bead of sweat roll down his temple.

There was a part of him that thought he should be embarrassed by how hard he just came but he couldn’t be bothered as he sat in this post orgasm bliss.

Fuck, he thought, this girl is going to kill me.

***

masterlist || ask

(Part Two)

#harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #smooth operator

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princesscatherinemiddleton · 4 years

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Top 15 (and a half) best gowns worn by the Duchess of Cambrige

This is the big one, all you cool cats and kittens! Sit back and enjoy @claireofluxembourg @lizisbackbackagain @anna8910 @queensonjas

15. Pale Blue Chiffon Jenny Packham Gown (2017) / Ice Blue Beaded Jenny Packham Gown (2017)

These are actually the same dress. Jk, they are clearly, like, 12% different. But they end up sharing a spot because my opinions towards them are the same. For the Spectre gown, I adore the back. I love it and it’s different for Kate. I love the jewelled belt and Kate should always wear chiffon skirts. Also, her hair choice is phenomenal. The bodice, however, is ugly af. As for the Paris dress, ths is what an Elsa moment should be, Kate, not that monstrosity you wore to the Royal Variety Performance. The more I look at it, the more it looks like an alien but I can accept that and so must you.

14. Black Velvet Alexander McQueen Dress (2019)

I do remember saying I hate velvet. It was a defining factor in many of my worst dressed looks. HOWEVER, this one... isn’t as bad. The black goes so well with the sash and the order (and makes such a good change from the white and off-white dresses the Queen and Camilla wear to fancy events). The neckline is unusual for Kate and help show off that necklace. The dress is interesting on it’s own and simple enough to let the jewels and orders shine through.

13. Patterned Alexander McQueen Gown (2017/2019)

I really love this dress. I know everyone hates it but I think it’s super cute and it suits Kate. It’s off the shoulder, which she doesn’t normally go for, and the tiered skirt is something only Kate could pull off. I definitely prefer it here to the adjusted version she wore to the 2019 Portrait Gala, where the sleeves lost some of the dress’s sparkle for me. With the big hair and big earrings, this is a winning look.

12. Beulah London Sarai Gown in Red (2011)

Kate has almost this exact gown and it’s on my worst dress list. Wild. This one is just better. Firetruck red is Kate’s colour and this was such a good look. The fact the dress is one block colour allows for the silhouette of the dress - which was lost on the version she wore in Bhutan - to shine through. Also, she doesn’t wear her hair down with gowns anywhere near enough any more.

11. Barbara Casasola Tribal Dress (2016/2019)

You know I said she doesn’t wear off the shoulder gowns? I take it back. This is a wild card choice for Kate but it’s a good one. It’s fancy enough to wear to a gala event and also simple enough for a more low key engagement. I love the fact it’s a knit dress - the design wouldn’t work if it was a thinner fabric - and fluted silhouette in the skirt. (I also preferred the shoes she wore in 2016 to these but this is best gowns, not best shoes).

10. Marchesa Blush Pink Gown (2017)

One day, we’ll see this dress and HD and I’ll decide I hate it. Until then, it makes my top 10. It has the plungiest neckline Catherine Elizabeth is ever likely to wear. It looks like a bridal gown but in pink. The sleeves are weird but also old timey regal so I like them. I love the low back. It’s such a princess dress. This is a princess’s renaissance dress. If this was a movie, she’d ride away from palace raiders on a horse in this dress. Alas, it’s not.

9. Red Jenny Packham Sequinned Gown (2015/2016)

Sometimes I remember the fact we have good photos of Kate in this dress with the Lotus Flower tiara and I want to die of happiness. It’s such a simple dress but perfect for those occasions when she actually has to look like a princess. It’s got a chiffon skirt, a belted waistline, those super cute mini-sleeves... what’s not to love? Again, Kate should wear bright red more often.

8. Lilac Jenny Packham Gown (2011)

IT’S SO LOW. I was obsessed with this dress for years. When I imagined myself going to the BAFTAs, it was in this dress (or this dress but in yellow?). After her wedding, she wore so many ugly outfits and then turned up in LA, surrounded by the A List of A Listers, in this. It’s pastel, it’s chiffon, it’s perfect. I also think it would look better without the slightly dodgy tan Kate picked up.

7. Erdem Floral Gown (2015)

I LOVE THIS DRESS SO MUCH WHY DOES EVERYONE HATE IT? It has everything that Erdem normally does wrong. Print, ruffles, a tiered skirt. It’s big, it’s colourful. And yet, for once, it works. The colours complement each other and the tiered skirt starts at a reasonable place on the leg. The bottom ruffle isn’t too big or too small, and the whole effect gives the dress such a nice shape. Please wear this again.

6. Jenny Packham Cinderella Dress (2018)

Kate is at her best in pure princess style and this is a pure princess dress. It’s simple, it’s icy pale, there are sequins. The translucent netting sleeves are a lovely touch and elevate this dress from good to great. The overlay stands out from the fabric, despite being a similar shade. Her order looks good on it and the silhouette of the dress makes her look 8 feet tall.

5. Self-Portrait Crochet Gown (2017)

This was my favourite dress for a long time. I adore it. I love the crochet-style bodice. It makes a nice change from lace but it still in the same area. The skirt is flowing (my favourite type) and that leg slit actually killed me. Catherine Elizabeth has legs that go on for days and she needs to show them off more. Also, fight me, but I love the deep red accessories. They go well with the pure whiteness of the dress. If I ever get invited to a semi-formal event, watch me wear this dress.

4. Alexander McQueen Caped Gown (2018)

The fact this is only number 4 breaks my heart a bit. This dress is faultless. The sheer cape, the chiffon skirt, the embellishments around the neck... flawless. The arm candy that is King Harald V... cannot be improved. The fact she’s getting on for 7 months pregnant here... iconic. This was the look a goddess would wear when she came down from the heavens to survey the brutality of man. She straight up floated throughout Oslo wearing this dress. I will forever be bitter she’s not wearing a tiara.

3. Alexander McQueen Off-the-shoulder Gown (2017)

Does this even count as a gown? I don’t know and I don’t care because it’s possibly the best thing Kate’s ever worn. It’s off-the-shoulder (I guess she does wear off-the-shoulder gowns occasionally), there are ruffles (which, apparently, I do like), it’s red. Kate’s hair looks phenomenal here. I love that the dress cinches in at the waist. I love that the fabric looks so soft. I love that it’s ankle length and showing off those cute af shoes. The fact she wore this dress to Carole’s 60th means she loves it too and that makes me happy. I dream of this dress.

2. Jenny Packham Sequinned Blush Gown (2011/2016)

This dress is a sparkly masterpiece. It’s so delicate, it looks like it might break at the simplest touch. It makes Kate look like some kind of woodland elf. I loved in 2011 but I adored it in 2016. Her hair is a work of art and against the greenery of the grounds, she looks like an angel sent from heaven. I love the waist and how it gives the dress (which is essentially straight) a gentle, architectural silhouette. This is a Disney princess dress.

1. Alexander McQueen One-Shoulder Gown (2019)

I still can’t believe a genuine Grecian goddess turned up at the BAFTAs in 2019. Kate was an absolute vision. The one-shoulder thing is not normally a Kate style but maybe it should be? The flowers are big and dramatic compared to the simplicity of the gown, but also simple and delicate in the grand scheme of things. This kdress moved so well when Kate walked. I love the shape of the dress, I love the flow of the skirt, I love the way it billows out behind her. The lack of necklace allows the strength of the shoulder to shine. It’s simple. It’s pure. It’s perfection.

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lokikingofasgardslover713 · 5 years

Text

Loki Laufeyson Masterlist

Masterlist

Series

The Ulfhednar {Finished}

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8

Description: This was my first fic I posted on Tumblr. Robbing from the Avengers was a walk in the park. Or until the god of mischief ruins any plans of escape. A fight ensues leading to the discovery of who and what the thief is and it isn't a discovery she ever wanted known. Especially by the very gods she was meant to obey.

Warnings: Blood, angst, stubbornness (M/F)

Forgotten Gods {Finished}***

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Description: What if the one in a million shots at stopping Thanos was Loki had to fall from the Bifrost into the titans hands? And, what if the reason had to be the kidnapping of said gods true love? Can Strange and the others pull this off, and keep the reader safe to return to Loki once it is all over or do they fail miserably and cause more damage?

Warnings: Smut, Inferred Non-con, Angst, Blood (M/F)

Sparkling Topaz & Mead {Finished}***

One Two Three Four Five Six Seven

Description: After learning her powers don't work on either god, the reader reluctantly surrenders and returns with the Avengers. Very reluctant to help, what she is intrigues the god of mischief who takes interest in her in more ways than one.

Warnings: Smut (M/F)

The Wolves Den {Epilogue}

Description: Werewolf AU. The god of mischief finds himself entering Midgardian bar searching for the wolf he has tracked after a nights run. Not to keen on how he finds her, he begrudgingly gets the Avengers involved.

Warnings: Blood, violence (M/F)

Loki’s Gilded Pet {Finished}***

Description: What happens when Loki is brought a prisoner to play with when he is in the dungeons? Reader is a mortal, some how she is brought through a passage between Midgard & Asgard to be apprehended & treated poorly before being taken to proper authorities. To cover there tracks the guards that found her throw her to Loki in hopes he will kill her.

Warnings: Mentions of rape, Smut (M/F)

Prickly Master List {Finished}***

Description: Stemmed from and Inktober oneshot in which the god of mischief wants his own familiar that is ALSO a promised lover who is reluctant to give into the god and makes his life a living hell.

Warnings: Angst, Smut (M/F)

Havoc’s Worship Dragon!Loki {Finished}***

Description: Loki is chaos, chaos is havoc & havoc has found a treasure, a jewel, a new being to worship other than himself!

Warnings: Non-con, dub-con, Dark Loki and Thor, Smut (M/F)

Drooling Masterlist {Finished}***

Description: A female frost giant hiding on Midgard just so happens has the god of mischief land in her living room after the events of Avengers Infinity War. Little does she know, this causes her to come into heat long before her time.

Warnings: Smut, dub-con? (M/F)

Shattered Peace {Finished}

Description: During Thanos attack on the Statesman, the titan, instead of taking Loki’s life takes something more valuable. Leaving the god and a distraught lover in his wake.

Warnings: Angst, Heartache (M/F)

Savage Spite {Finished}

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Description: Loki really makes a mess & it seems it will take longer for him to right the mistake than originally thought! Reader is a young celestial whose powers have yet to be known just how strong they really are. She and Tony Stark’s daughter, Morgan were raised together as sisters.

Warnings: Smut, Angst (M/F)

Shackled Babe {Finished}***

Description: After the events of infinity war and end game, both Loki and Thor seek a new realm to rebuild Asgard. The brothers remembering Odin telling them of a kingdom in the realm of Alfheim once ruled by a generous light elf. One who fell out of favor to have the throne handed to another, but it should be a safe place to rebuild.

Warnings: Smut, Implied Non-con, Angst, war (M/F)

Bitter Bonds {Finished}***

Description: After Loki is judged on Asgard he is immediately given/sold to the new king of Jotunheim, Helblendi, as a peace offering. 5 years later, two visitors journey to Jotunheim, a woman for trade talks and the other Thor,bargaining for Loki’s freedom. What happens when she bargains for the brother of her late husband?

Warnings: Torture, Panic Attacks, Angst, Smut (M/F)

Helot {Finished}***

Gore Cryptic Strange Advance Issues Evocation Relapse Desperation Home

Description: In efforts to gather more intel, the recon goes to hell the instant a dying slave is thrown into the mix, leaving both Thor and Loki not sure what to do with her. Nothing is known of who she is or where she comes from.

Warnings: Smut, Torture (M/F)

Wolf Season {FINISHED}***

Description: This is the first time the readers heat is brought to her attention by none other than the god of mischief. How does she take to the discovery, but more importantly, how does Loki take it? Will Loki keep patience with her stubbornness or will he allow nature to take over? (This IS NOT ABO)

Warnings: Smut, Angst (M/F)

Sexual Healing & Godly Appetites {WIP}***

Description: Loki catches the reader looking for bad dragon toys (google it, you won’t be disappointed) Secretly he has wanted the team healer for a while and seeing her looking for a toy ignites a fire only she can extinguish.

Warning: Smut, BDSM (M/F)

The Auction House {WIP}***

Description: The team takes on a fine art auction that deal in super soldiers as the main prize. The key to the vault each individual is kept is inside the antique sold while encrypted data is scent out detailing the kill count of each soldier before hand to know who you are buying. The one up for auction tonight is top priority and Loki’s true soulmate and last love.

Warning: Angst, Smut in later chapters, Hints to a rough past (M/F)

Oneshots

Mermaids & Gods ***

Description: After the events of Infinity war are sorted out, the team takes a long overdue vacation and drags a certain “reformed” trickster with them.

Warnings: Smut, blood (M/F)

Christmas Praxis***

Description: This is sickly sweet and haven’t a clue where it came from & then it all went to smut! Reader is explaining Santa Claus to Loki who is having trouble grasping the tradition compared to what it once was.

Warnings: Fluff, Smut (M/F)

Loki’s Sacrifice - Dark!Loki***

Description: Loki is brought a gift by the Jotunn to appease the new king of the realms. A sacrifice saved just for this purpose, or so it seems until he gets his first look at what she really is to the Jotunn people.

Warnings: Non-con (M/F)

I Will Not Kneel - Dark!Loki***

Description: Loki’s newest mortal toy isn't exactly as breakable as the ones before her. This intrigues the god who decides to keep her and not pass her off to another.

Warnings: Non-con (M/F)

Mischief's Teacher ***

Description: The general of the Valkyries leaves Asgard with Brunhilde, but not before training the princes to fight. Little did she realize the impact she had on one of the princes until he shows up in Sakaar.

Warnings: Smut (M/F)

Arcane

Description: Written with @starscreamloki - The newest addition to the team isn’t thrilled to be forced into joining the fight, especially when the God of Mischief himself shows up and threatens to reveal her secret she has kept hidden ever since her capture.

Warnings: Swearing (M/F)

Judas Kiss

Description: Loki stumbled across the reader when she was traversing between Jotunheim and Asgard, the god having taking to her after learning she was nothing but a Jotun slave. The intrigue of her had Loki deciding she was to be brought to Asgard to assure she was safe.

Warnings: Angst, War (M/F)

Sea Maiden- Jotunn Loki***

Description: The team, sent by Fury to recruit the reader, haven't a clue as to what she is, just that she is strong, fast, and unrelenting in a fight. Her secret is revealed by Thor and Sam who decide it would be fun to throw her into the water during their at the beach.

Warnings: Smut, Angst (M/F)

Faithlessness

Description: Reader has crashed to the barren lands of Jotunheim after she is tossed out of a space craft and left for dead. Though you can guess who is the one who finds her, taking her back to the palace it is discovered she is just not any mortal or alien race.

Warnings: Pain, Angst (M/F)

Sakaarian Heat***

Description: Jotun!Loki & Jotun!Reader - Upon attending a recent party at the urging of the Grandmaster, Loki finds a very rare creature and it turns out she belongs to him.

Warnings: Smut (M/F)

Six Steamy Sentences

Description: This was a writing challenge and a teaser!

Warnings: ANGST (M/F)

Keeper of Beasts***

Description: After Ragnarök, Loki, Thor, Brunnhilde and Hulk/Bruce escape the destruction of Asgard but not onto the Statesman. Instead they board the other craft that belonged to the Grandmaster and accidentally return to Sakaar. There, as luck would have it, they are bought by a frost giantess visiting the realm, but nothing is as it seems.

Warnings: LEMONS, Angst (M/F)

Warring Loyalties

Description: The conquest for many Romans was more than just land. Taking what and who they wanted, a troop learn of a race of creatures, the selkie whose women are loyal to the end. This was the grand scheme of things when the general waited on shore for the OFC to return. Having come to shore, she never realized they were watching her patterns.

Warnings: Angst, dark things, blood, War (M/F)

Best Laid Plans of Gods & Shield Maidens

Description: After years of chasing after the reader, Loki finally gets his chance to show her how he truly feels. Though it takes a masquerade for the reader to understand just how much he has longed after her and only her when he could have anyone in the 9 realms.

Warnings: Smut, Angst, Bullying, self-loathing (M/F)

#loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki odinson #loki god of mischief #loki fanfic #loki lemon #loki x oc #loki x reader #loki x ofc #lokikingofasgardslover713

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rmnamjoons · 5 years

Text

what do people think of all this? i very literally have the coronavirus right now and i’m really feeling all this cold medicine, but this situation here is quite something and i’d love to know people’s thoughts:

note: i’ve never posted anything like this before and don’t intend to ever again

i’m not saying any names or urls, and if you somehow know who this is about, please don’t do anything to them or send them any hate or anything. this isn’t an expose thread or a call to start drama - it’s like a diary entry and a way for me to talk out my feelings.

i have a friend on here who i used to talk to literally every single day, and i haven’t heard from her in a while. i went to message her to see if she was okay and found out she blocked me.

our last conversation was about how hurt my feelings were because of some things she did (described below) and she apologized a bunch and called herself an asshole, and i tried to comfort her and say no she’s not bad or anything like that. she stopped responding and then a week passed, and today i went to message her and saw that i was blocked.

so, i was upset because:

i’ve wrote her a 12k word fic in early january. i sent her the first half of it and asked if she would read it, not beta it, just tell me if she liked it. she was excited and said she was looking forward to reading it. she kept being like “i’ll read it tomorrow! i’ll read it this weekend!!! i’ll read it in a few days!!!” ........ for literally TWO (2) MONTHS. i know that she’s busy and i would’ve been fine if she told me she was too busy to read it. but she kept stringing me along and lying i guess? i didn’t say i thought she was lying, and i didn’t think she was lying, but last week i did say my feelings were hurt that it’s literally been this long and nothing’s happened. she could’ve said she didn’t want to read it or that she was too busy to read it, but she got my hopes up and then slowly let me down over and over

i made her some edits specific to her interests. she loves “elf namjoon” and so i made her edits of namjoon with elf ears. each one takes at least an hour to edit and get it just right. i posted a couple of them in one post and sent it to her. she didn’t like it or reblog it, just told me privately that she liked it and that’s it. she doesn’t have to do anything, but that hurt my feelings a lot, you know? if someone spent hours making something specifically for me, i personally would be very excited and appreciative, even if i hated it. i know it doesn’t actually matter and i feel stupid for caring about this, but idk

i was also going to write her an elf namjoon fanfiction. i wrote part of it as well as an outline, maybe 2k words at most. again, she didn’t read it even when she said she would and said she was excited to. i told her about all the things i tried to include, things specific to her interests and kinks and stuff, but again, nothing

i wasn’t angry or anything like that at all - i just wanted her to know how i felt because it had been building up for months at this point and i knew she didn’t mean anything bad or have any ill-intent. i was mostly just confused and hurt and wanted to talk it out. was she ignoring me because she was too nice to say she hates me? was something else going on? i just wanted her to be honest, and i wanted her to know my feelings were hurt.

this was her response when i said i was upset about all that:

and then i apologized and said i shouldn’t have said anything. my feelings were hurt, but she’s stressed and so busy, and i should’ve kept it to myself. it’s just fanfiction and some edits, it doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things.

and then she blocked me. that apology was the last thing she said to me.

now, she’s on her blog making posts about how she needs to remember that tumblr has “more amazing people than bad” and that a couple people on here are causing her to be more anxious, and that she feels like she “can’t do right” by anyone. saying all of this *publicly* on her blog.

she’s been under a lot of stress lately with work and i’ve tried for months talking to her about things, listening to her when she was anxious, being as patient and understanding as possible, etc. we’ve talked about her new job a lot and how anxious it makes her. and my whole life, when people around me are upset, i try to make them things to cheer them up, in addition to talking to them. i think that’s what i was trying to do with the fics, and i know that was actively what i was trying to do with the edits. i wanted to cheer her up and make something she’d like, and she ignored it. we went from talking almost every day to only talking on the weekends to barely talking at all, and that was fine - i was okay with that, because i knew she was very busy, she was barely online. but i’m just so confused by everything she does and how she acts.

a few months ago, back around october, i was having panic attacks almost daily, and this was when she and i were talking almost every day, before her new job. she never put in even a quarter the effort i later attempted to - she wasn’t there for me, she didn’t attempt to help, she didn’t really try to talk to me or anything when i told her how upset i was. i wasn’t sharing all that much because i didn’t want to be a burden, but i was trying to send “cries for help” to a lot of people. she did talk to me some, but it was more like “lol same” than actual help or talking - but when it was the opposite and she told me how upset and anxious she was constantly, i tried to do everything i could to help her.

i didn’t expect her to help me then. nobody has to help anyone if they don’t want to, but now looking back, with all of this combined, i feel like she never even cared about me as a human being and that i don’t matter to her and never did. i’m subhuman and evil for having feelings, even when i wanted to help her feel better and talk to her, because her feelings are all that matter. if someone else has emotions, she cuts them out of her life because only she matters i guess.

i would’ve loved to talk this out with her, even after everything she’s done, but i have no way of contacting her. so i decided to write out everything here and get some other people’s unbiased perspectives.

so, what do people think of this situation?

edit:

a few people have pointed out that they think she was being sarcastic in her apology. does anyone else think that?

#marnie text #emotions and hurt feelings

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mudaship39 · 4 years

Text

Warring Kingdoms

S rank Necromancer and S rank Demon Hunter Void Elf Empress Lynera Richshade:

Necromancers are coldblooded commanders of the undead. They are masters of life and death. These mysterious and sinester spellcasters reanimate the deceased as skeletal remains, curse and hex their enemies with fatal magics, & further torture them with the remains of their conquered comrades. Life and death are part of a larger cycle in the chapter of the grand scheme of things. Necromancers are not frightened to walk the line between both on the tightrope. They knowingly use their own life force and soul to invigorate powerful abilities and achieve the advantage in combat. Being at death’s door does not worry them if no opponents remain to deal the killing blow. Necromancers rather attack from a distance unleashing obliteration and damage from afar. The skeletal undead zombies and ghouls under their domination and power devastate enemies before they have an opportunity to strike. The ghastly curses and gruesome hexes the necromancers utilize can cripple even the toughest of demons and impervious of archdemons. A necromancer is a caster that is able to expel negative energies flowing through their veins. Necromancers are comparable to sorcerers but are more skilled with necromancy and somewhat charm spells. They use their talents to gain total power and control over their adversaries' bodies, minds, hearts, & souls. Often the best way to do this is by raising or summoning the undead from their fallen enemies. This is an ability at which they are matchless at. Necromancers are also efficient with diseases, poisons, & toxins. Necromancers are efficient at affecting opponents with fear, fatigue, agony, & life drain. Necromancers are efficient at even gaining mindless supporters through the use of enchantment magic to lure and control. A necromancer's power and forte are in strengthening the undead, summoning or raising undead subordinates which they can control up to an entire army, & being able to cast a vast collection of different necromancy spells. They are strong spell casters but are not resilient in physical combat. A necromancer should largely be used for crowd control. This is not the case for Lynera Richshade, a necromancer and demon hunter. Even if they are able to get through her undead minions. She is not defenseless as her power as a demon hunter is commanding. She has slain countless thousands of demons, archdemons, & devils with her arcane and esoteric long sword, dagger, pistol, & rifle. They are able to curse the enemy while animating different undead such as undead: humans, humanoids, animals, beasts, creatures, or monsters to engage the enemy while their teammates continue to maintain a collection of dead bodies for them. Necromancers are the people who create undead zombies and ghouls in the world. They will usually have hidden undead bases of ghouls or zombies so they have security and protection. They usually live in abandoned houses near a graveyard. They will work as grave keepers of mausoleums, catacombs, tombs, & crypts with no troubles. Sometimes certain nobles will employ the services of necromancers. These richer common folks could just need the service of an undertaker and mortician. More often than not to either take revenge for a deceased loved one or revive a dead loved one. Lynera Richshade is a Shadow Lady, a necromancer with power over death and life magic that can control and manipulate legions upon legions of undead humans, humanoids, animals, creatures, beasts, & monsters. Her shadow army or shadow legion under her command as a shadow lady is unparalleled. Reapers view the body as feeble and lacking to collect immense amounts of power and strength on its own which is why they prefer to explore into the necromantic arts. Reapers more often than not manipulate arcana strictly to kill those who challenge them and then use them as tools.  Her natural magic comes from a fragment of necromantic magic that was either inherited from her ancestors. It could also be infused into her by an accident or implanted into her by a scheme. Sorcerers who hail from a wizard family that specializes in necromancy magic is one of the most common case of this rare trait. But rarely enough a sorcerer may gain this weird behavior through a freak accident or a calculating plot that involves strong necromancy magic. She strives to keep balance and harmony. She embodies death and darkness itself as a dark lady and death lady. Her armor and weapons are all black depicting death and sometimes silver or gray. Lynera Richshade as a void elf is void warrior. She as a void warrior who uses a mysterious and esoteric power draws power and power from the Breach itself and the Void itself to furnish her mischievous and inquisitive character. She as a void warrior of the Breach and the Void acquires an innate link to the realm of the abyss and kingdoms of true nothingness as she is void elf sovereignty. She was born with this bond as a void elf so she is never alone in the darkness and shadows. She truly became one with the abyss and is one with the void of the Void and the Breach. It is said that Void Elves are elves spawned from the very Breach and the very Void itself. It is said they are made of what makes the Void and the Breach. Who or what the whispers are is subject for argument. But the otherworldly and wraithlike creatures and beings that she has befriended have educated and trained her in secrets from antiquity and distant places. This is why she is a necromancer who can summon, create, manipulate, & control the dead. She has power that comes from the Void given to her by a mysterious being giving her powerful supernatural abilities.

Demon hunters or Devil Hunters are people who are mercenaries who concentrate and focus on hunting and killing demons and devils. They as metahumans and superhumans are effectively stronger than regular humans due to physical training, mystical augmentation, or even supernatural heritage (as some are half angels, half demons, or half angel/half demons). Some have chosen to make a contract with a merciless angel or a ruthless fallen god in order to annihilate demons, archdemons, & devils. A demon or devil hunter's pact can take many forms. It may be a marker on their skin. It may allow the demon hunter to glow with white or black energy and power. It may even influence the very way a demon hunter thinks and speaks. Nonetheless, through this deal demon hunters gain the skill to harness magic as well as the power to feel the life essences of beasts, creatures, & monsters. Their resolve and tenacity in combat along with their successful use of skill and magic allows them to adjust to a diversity of situations both in and out of combat. Those who select this course tend to crave battle and strength, At times demon hunters like Lynera Richshade is frequently notorious to enter a reverie where she kills her targets with no guilt. By choosing to become a demon hunter this individual she has chosen to an existence of carnage and death. As she knows her job doesn't stop with the death of just one demon. It only ends with the annihilation of all demons, massacre of all devils, & the extermination of all archdemons or it ends with her death. Many demon hunters consequently choose to journey with others because alone demon hunters often fall into an eternal cycle of murder with no repentance. This is why Lynera Richshade journeys with her adventuring party and guild party of Lysander Norwood’s guild order. Lynera took up the cause of demon hunting because she wanted revenge. She decided to make a contract with her angelic and divine patron for power. The reason she decided to group with the others of the guild party and adventuring party of the guild order is they help her not lose herself in demon hunting. They remind her that she has other things to live for other than power and revenge. A demon hunter that hunts alone is lost without purpose so she relies on her allies. Her favorite weapon as a demon hunter is a long sword, a dagger, a flintlock pistol, & a lever action repeating rifle with scope. As a demon hunter she uses the magic of demons and devils to kill other demons, archdemons, & devils. She often uses her own void magic as a void elf to vanquish her enemies.

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