#dark elf writing

[unsanctitude]

tried to make a new elf to introduce to the abysmal ecosystem here. brought to you by Women who stare at thiings

[eldrtchmn]

🌑

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Arkanis

So finally finished this thing! Also known as "So how do I show the Ascended fuckery in Arkanis?"

With nebulae obviously! Anyways have this very upset Joshi slowly losing his mind in Kogoruhn!

And the fic that accompanies it! (note: Fic is a horror fic, my talents lie in horror and sad)

[yandereheathen]

The Cost of Protection [Yandere elf guard x Fem Reader] 18+ Chapter #1

Based in Barovia (Curse of strahd, some dusk elf lore spoilers) Warnings: Non-con touching/kissing/ some violence, obsessive treatment, death threats necromancy?

Living in Barovia was hard enough; trying to do business in it is quite the other. Besides all of the ghosts, Undead creatures, and living under the tyranny of a centuries-old whiny vampire, everything was complicated. Still, you had your own set of struggles. Your Tavern was not necessarily famous, but it did good business. You had your regulars, Travelers who would sometimes come and try their hand at defeating the vampire lord Who you never saw again unless it was their Undead body, and some other travelers who were peddling wears pies, toys, weapons, anything that you could imagine then there was the common folk and Crafts People. Everyone was welcome in your Tavern. You offered a warm smile, a glass to drink, and whatever you could scratch up to cook that day; however, you had one unwelcome guest who changed your path forever.

 Maverick

 It wasn't uncommon that Dusk elves would come into your Tavern. They followed Vistani and often went through the cities of Barovia on a standard route, and more and more did you feel like you saw them integrating with the town, so seeing one dressed in a guard uniform was unusual but not unheard of. His long dark hair was braided up in leather twine, and his eyes were the standard golden color, but you did see a tiredness in them. He was only an inch or two shorter than you. After all, you were pretty tall for a human, but he was well-built and had hands that showed both work and strength. His smile and his voice were the things that stood out most. It had a ruggedness that you admitted caused a little heat in your cheeks the first time you spoke with him.

  Speaking of the first time, You remember clearly the first time he stopped by your Tavern. You treated him sweetly, flashed a smile, and put your arms down in front of him, looking up at him with innocent eyes leaning at the bar.

"Anything to drink, sir?"

You Tend to be flirty with everybody. It was basically in a bar person's job description. Still, you noticed that some visitors would give you an extra coin or became regulars if you gave them special treatment. However, his smile made you a little uneasy, almost excited. It was a smile that said he appreciated your treatment and wanted more, how much more you didn't quite understand that time. Did you know that that smile would lead to many other things? He just put your hand just under your cheek and, tilted his head, and said

"I think a beer or mash number 8 would be okay before I have to eat. I could live off your voice and those beautiful eyes forever.

 You just left thinking he was making some flirtatious joke, pulled his draft, and handed it to him. From what you've gathered, asking him simple questions about his life gave you non-committal answers or general mods. He was pretty new around town and it was just getting to know all of the local businesses, and he heard that you could get a good cup for cheap and that a cute shop girl was serving the drinks. You laughed again at his flirtatious joke, but you noticed that his eyes never left you from your lips to your shoulders, down your neck to your chest. Even to your backside, when you were turned around and helping other customers with their drinks, you didn't think much of it then. Still, it definitely left you a little unnerved.

 After that, he became one of your regulars. You knew his drink by heart, you knew what he liked to sit in at what time, and you learned exactly how to speak with him. Not too much, but he did enjoy hearing a little bit about your day. He wasn't much of a talker, but you don't mind, or you did not have the time. 

One night, a set of particularly Rowdy young men was causing ruckuses in your Tavern. You tried to compile them with free drinks and sweet words, but you needed more. It all came to a head when one of them tried to get handsy on you, and he was greeted with a sword to his neck. The man went still as Maverick whispered in his ear, pressing the dagger a little bit closer enough to cut into his neck. He looked at the other two men and said in his low, deep voice. 

"Oh, did you both want to be next? As much as I would joy putting all your heads on a platter and making it for the next stew, this one would not appreciate making a mess of her Tavern. How about all of us be nice to you all? Get the hell out of here before I make an example."

 They tried to avoid messing with a guard, let alone a dusk elf. There were rumors of them knowing dark magic. Magic rants to them after the travesty of their women being wiped out, dark magic that was taught to them by Rahadin, the right-hand Master of the lord of the world. The ability to raise the dead and control minds are abilities right from hell."

 They all scurried off. You were thankful, bowing to Maverick and taking his hand, promising free drinks for the rest of the night. Still, he took your hand and looked at you, his golden eyes hidden behind something mischievous, something lustful that weighed heavy on your heart. In your chest, you felt the heat rise up from your stomach.

"Darling, we can make a better arrangement. How would you like me to offer my protection?"

 You looked at him, confused, but still held his hand, your head tilted. 

"I would always be thankful, but isn't that what you usually do? I wouldn't want you to give me special treatment."

 "Oh well,"

 He takes your face and his hand. Squeezing your cheeks ever so slightly, 

"If you give me special treatment, I'll give you and your customers special treatment. After all, you wouldn't want anything to happen to you, your Tavern, or your customers, would you, darling?"

 He forces your eyes up to his and brings your lips closer. The rest of the Tavern, already daunted by the commotion, looks away. You simply nod in agreement, and he lets you go, patting your shoulder and laughing good-heartedly. 

"well, perfect, I think I'll take my first payment tonight."

 You panicked, thinking about how much she could get into the day, and said, 

"How much are you asking for? I've already offered you free drinks. I don't know what more I can do.-"

 He cuts you off, putting his finger to your lips. 

"Don't worry. You have everything that I could want to need."

 And he walks off.

 After closing, when all of the lights in the streets were out and the spirits were already roaming the streets, you clutched to your apron, putting up the last of the chairs. The candle lights were just barely about to go out. You counted up all of your money from the day, and while you made enough of an earning, you were very worried that he would not have enough to pay for this new extortion. You had heard stories of guards and heroes extorting young men and women for protection. You did not think it would happen to you that living in a place of cold and darkness was curse enough, but it looked like the fates had a little more for you. 

You almost didn't hear him come in as he stuck his hands around your waist and up your throat. You tried to yell out, but his hand covered your mouth, and he kissed just the side of your ear as you immediately felt yourself wanting to flee. Then he whispered in your ear, 

"Oh, now that's a pleasing darling. As much as I would have so much fun chasing you, I don't have the time tonight to have my cute little rabbit." 

He put his hands down your hip, lifted your dress, and ran his hand up your thigh as he kissed your jawline and neck. You stammered, still trying to get free. 

"You said you wanted payment. I'm really to pay. The draw is open. Take what you want. I don't care. Please, just don't hurt me."

 You cry through your struggles, but he just laughs, nipping where your neck and your shoulder mean, 

"Oh no, my little rabbit. As much as it delights me to hear you after having to endure hearing you simper over every man who can give you coin, I'm finally able to take the prize that is Rightfullymine after all that will be our deal."

 He lifts you up and plenty down on the closest table, the wood scratching into your shoulder, your head banging painfully on it. You cry out in pain. It is silenced by his mouth crashing into yours in a kiss. A rough kiss. He pins your hands down, holding his fingers In times with yours as his tongue searches into your open mouth, wrestling to pin it down. You see his golden eyes boring into yours like a beast unleashed. You stand there stunned, unable to move with his weight pushed against you. Even with your slight height Advantage, his trained muscle and sheer force can do nothing. 

He breaks apart, your lips bruised and your tongue hanging out of your mouth, a stream of saliva connecting both of your mouths. 

"Please, why are you doing this?"

 You manage to choke out as you feel him grinding into your lower half just underneath your dress. 

"Well, it's pretty simple, my cute little rabbit. I only joined the guard because I was bored, and I thought I could find some fun beating up the locals or helping young maidens. Still, I saw you, a bright Lily, and a swamp of muck to see simpering and pampering to everybody who entered your Tavern was so endearing I knew I needed to have you. I knew that you were mine, don't you understand? When elves mate, they mate for life, so that means."

He cried to you rougher you feel his hard cock rubbing into your own sex with a need want to be inside you. 

"You will be mine for the rest of your life. I will ensure that. If you don't want to be mine, it's pretty simple- you don't have to."

 You blink this as he lets you sit up, but he still stands between your legs.

"You mean you'll just let me go. You won't do anything?"

 You look at him, hoping that this is some weird pass, and you would know he would just leave you alone. But your hopes are soon crushed.

"oh no, my darling, if you say no," 

he moves in closer, and his sword falls at the back of your neck. 

"I will kill you and make sure you are raised as a zombie who has no free will and who is forced to do my bidding for the rest of your Undead life. Do you understand me, my cute little rabbit?"

 At that, you feel a heat emanating from his sword, a Blackness clouding around the edges of your eyes, and you know that his promise holds truth. Your body goes rigid and shakes, and tears silently stream down your eyes as he takes you in his arms, rubbing your back oddly comfortingly or trying to be with his sword. His other hand grips your bottom, pulling you closer as he snuggles into your neck, inhaling your scent.

"so you decide to make, my darling. Either I can have you here of your own free will, where I will love and protect you in this Tavern, or I will have the pleasure of seeing your beautiful blood dripping down your chest. I can have you as my perfect little Undead doll."

 "The choice is yours. You pretty little rabbit."

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

Hizashi would HATE this.

It’s why Inko does it.

“How much for the truck?” She asks the old man. He frowns.

“It’s a heap of junk ma’am,” he says cautiously, adjusting his hat. “Not worth much cept as scrap.”

“My dearly departed,” Inko says with the utmost disdain in her voice, “husband would have hated me having this.”

“… four hundred dollars. It’s gonna break down in two years.”

“Deal.”

The truck is old. Inko isn’t knowledgeable about any type of vehicle other then ‘that vaguely looks like a sedan’ and even then it’s spotty. (What is the difference between a Jeep and a Wrangler? What makes a sports car different from the ‘four door’ car? Why does it matter?) Yet even she can tell this rust bucket is old. It’s got peeling paint, there’s a hole in the bed from age and it makes a horrific noise when she climbs in to turn it on.

She grins, imagining Hizashi’s face if he saw her drive this thing. It’s gross, it’s old and he’d hate the idea of his wife in anything that didn’t fit the mould he’d tried to shove her into since she was seventeen years old being wooed by a 28-year-old man.

She wonders if JD can point her at a piercer or a tattoo shop to. She imagines Hizashi again and chuckles as she drives off.

She needs to make sure she can make an appointment.

[alvivaarts]

Dragon Age is driving me coocoo bananas again, like absolutely insane coocoo bananas. Varran Lavellan and a friend's Warden, Seysil Tabris, just after the battle of Ostagar. They're about to have a two to three decades long awesome (terrible. absolutely fucked) adventure!! Can't wait to draw the rest of elf squad Here's a snippet of Varran's elder sister Levara after some. Tragic events. That kinda kickstart this whole thing.

[a-cabin-in-midgard]

When I decorated the streets with corpses and dreamed in red, we shared a single dance on one black night.

[grumpys-blank-worddocument]

Armor Design

[chaoticcomposition]

"If all goes according to plan, I’ll be home for supper.”

trying to explain to your daughter how what you're doing for lolth & the children of malice might be lethal but you can't specify what it is so you have to say goodbye in case you don't come home xoxo

[c0rvidbones]

Fem!Durge Paladin x Gale

When the Durge finds out what she once was, and an Oath that was unintentionally broken.

My Durge, Daekrana (Or Dana to those she cares for) did not handle the news of who she once was well. Not hours before, her Oath to the Raven Queen had been broken, and she was already unwell.

Contains: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, allusion/reference to animal death

Be gentle I have never posted anything on here for this before <3

------------------

Dana felt sick to her stomach when her eyes fell over the letter she found. It was her own handwriting. And what it said was truly horrifying. Gale, Karlach, and Astarion kept a loose watch as she poked through the littered texts of the desk, but it was Gale who saw his lover's hands trembling. Moreso than they already had been when she had been overtaken by the Urge earlier and broke her oath. That gutted feeling already had her a bit compromised, but otherwise unharmed - Dana had said she would fix it that evening as there were far more important matters to deal with.

Gale leans slightly to peek over Dana's head - it isn't hard, his paladin is awfully short for an elf - but she crumpled the letter and shoved it in her bag before he could see Anything other than the hue of the ink. Red like blood. He was curious, but Dana's now Severe expression and more-pallid-than-usual complexion told him not to pry yet.

She would turn and motion for the others, the scale of her armour making sufficient noise for them to hear and turn to see the sign. They follow, and onward they proceeded through the colony. Dana stayed silent the entire fight, her expression hard, cold, a thick wall of defensive mask thrown up to shield herself from this mental strain.

Defeating Ketheric and then the avatar of Myrkul was quick work for her and Karlach, both dealing significantly heavy damage with their respective weapons and combined strengths of Rages and Smites.

It was immediately after the battle and evacuation with Aylin to the main halls of Moonrise that the elf would toss her hammer aside in an unusual outburst of emotion, quickly walking away from her party and Outside of the halls, her hands coming up and pulling her braids and ponytail out in an anxious Fit. She stayed within the light of the moonlanterns, but just barely. Just at the edges. She stared off into the shadow-cursed lands, her hair let down for the first time in a long time, her eyes glazed with a mix of tormented agonies and dejected acceptance. She drops into a crouch, her feet staying firmly planted but hugging her knees to her chest, her forehead pressed to her forearms.

She could Feel Gale standing nearby. He didn't pry, didn't speak. He instead knelt beside his lover and slid an arm around her, cautious in the event she shied away but warmed when he felt her shoulder lightly lean into him.

No tears fell, but she was grateful for the company. He didn't quite know what was going on, but he would be here all the same. He does know when to be quiet, contrary to popular belief, and he stays with her as she mentally processed whatever she was thinking of.

It had been a two-for-one. Hours before she found that letter, she had come across Steelclaw, she had tried to grasp at memories and instead had grasped the feline's head in her hands and... well. She felt sick thinking about it. And little would let her forget the ripping sensation of her oath being broken and the vision of the first Oathbreaker knight. A piece of her still feels missing, and now she can't even find the words to get her oath repaired.

After a few drawn moments, she forcibly takes a deep breath, lightly shrugging Gale's hand from her shoulder and standing, her back turning as she starts putting her hair back up into its ponytail and braids, already walking back into the towers. Gale frowns, a little hurt but willing to look past it for sake of knowing this just isn't what Dana usually acts like. He tails her inside, watching her fetch her hammer and stow it on her back where she always carries it, her expression carefully blank as she listens to Dame Aylin and Isobel's reuniting.

After returning to camp, Dana would approach the black knight that uptook residence not far from Gale's camp, and before the knight could speak, she had gently taken the armoured undead by the wrist - another surprise, as she seemed to loathe touch from anyone other than Gale, with the lone exception being a hug from Karlach when she had finally fixed her engine - and wordlessly lead the knight to the most isolated part of the camp. She was still in sight of everyone, and the knight's posture seemed as formal as ever. Yet nobody could hear the first words she spoke when her lips parted save for the knight himself.

"I will accept the title of oathbreaker. I... deserve. The fall."

The knight paused, aware that she was perhaps making the agreement as a self inflicted punishment, but he would nod and lift a hand, his firelight eyes dimming as he speaks the words to induct her.

Hours later, she still won't speak, even as she sets up her part of Gale's tent, and though her paladin auras are still active... one feels new. Like her allies are stronger when close to her.

She lies beside Gale, not initially seeking contact, but after a few breaths, she hesitantly slips her hand into his. Not mad at him, and trying her hardest to not let her emotions rip her away from him. Gale squeezes her hand, his voice soft and concerned, "Did you want to talk about it?" Dana shook her head, her blue-black eyes closing, her brows knitting. Gale tries a different tactic, "I can wait. But holding on to what troubles you is never healthy. I... just want you to remember I'm here for you, alright?" She nods, and after another moment, turns to her side and pull's Gale's arm around her before draping her arm around his waist, pushing her head into his chest. He kisses her forehead and folds her into his arms without another word, lacing his fingers through her hair. She sinks into a trance quickly, and Gale is quick to follow in sleep.

The next day is a horrible and gutwrenching series of events for Dana - the Emperor, Wyrm's Crossing's state, the poor blacksmith replaced by the changeling woman as well as the dryad, and the Circus of Last Days' whole fiasco. That night she chose to rest alone, and was awoken by her wretched little butler of a beast. She spoke with very few syllables and a bounty of irate glares, yet what broke her in full was the mention of what she was at last. Her eyes were wide with horror, and even after sending the butler away, she couldn't fall back into a rest. Her first reaction was to go to the knight again, this time her voice weak and watery, tears threatening to claim her. "How. How did I become a paladin. When I am this. Have I broken my Oath before? How many times have we met, knight?"

He answered calmly. "Who you are does not bar you from chosen paths in life. You have broken it before, and resworn it before. We have met plenty of times. It will always be up to you if it is the last."

Shaking her head, her heart splintering, she called off everything for that day to linger in camp, feeling like a ghost. She would find her way to Gale by nightfall, waiting for him to come into his own tent, standing with her slight and trembling frame looking like a mess, her symbol to the Raven Queen clutched desperately in her hands. Gale looked surprised and wary at first, hesitating before closing the tent flap behind himself and casting a security spell. To keep people from hearing Dana and himself, but prepared to break it should she lose control as she had all those nights ago.

Instead, he's greeted with - at last, once again - her voice. Though it's strained and weak, and barely holding back tears. "Gale," She's already shaking like a leaf, and his wariness shifts into genuine alarm. She sounds desperate, on the verge of a dangerous despair that she can't escape without help. He's in front of her in a heartbeat, his arms slipping around her waist, and hers slide under his to cling to him. Her strength feels returned at least, though it's so unnerving to see the usually calm and level headed paladin shattering like she has been. Gut-wrenching sobs escape her small frame as she presses her face into his chest, and he slowly sinks into a kneeling position with her in his arms, keeping her close

Even as she weeps, her words are a jumbled, mottled mess that Gale can blessedly understand. "Gale, I'm a much worse person than I thought I was, how did I ever swear an oath, how did I ever serve the Raven Queen, how did I ever end up with kind people on all sides while I'm a revolting monster?" He soothed a hand up and down her back, his voice gentle and as reassuring as he can muster.

"Dana, my love, you're not a monst—"

"I AM! GALE —" Her voice is far louder than she intends, pulling herself out of his arms with a reluctant force, her arms wrapping around her as she bows her head. Refusing comfort. Her voice crumbles, "I. I'm — a Bhaalspawn, Gale, and not just any Bhaalspawn, but the one that started the Absolute Cult. If the former was not enough to condemn me, then the latter would. I'm sickened by myself, I - I was horrible. I was a monster — AM, a monster, gods," She groans, burying her face in her hands, pressing the small raven skull to her skin, "I did so many terrible things, why would y—"

She gasps, as if the next touch burned, but Gale had pushed her hands from her face to force her to look him in the eye. Tear-stained cheeks flush as he presses a kiss to her lips to silence her fears and spiralling, and when he breaks it, he presses his forehead to hers with a fire in those soft brown eyes of his, her own still wide in shock. "Daekrana. You are a vastly different person from who you were then. You have fought and resisted every violent thought and impulse until you thought you were safe. You slipped, and you have mourned your mistake. Admittedly, you being a Bhaalspawn is a surprise, but you can't chase me away that easily. Who you were was a monster, sure, but is that who you are now? The woman who fought the goblins, convinced Khaga she was wrong, saved the myconids, the gnomes, the Harpers, the tieflings?Would you call those the actions of a monster?" His smile is genuine and sweet, her expression glassy with awe and a new wave of tears. She shakes her head just a little, and his smile softens a touch, though no less loving. "You've been terribly strong and brave, my love. I assume this is what was eating you alive for the past few days - please. Allow yourself to be weak with me. I can be strong enough for the both of us, at least for a little while."

A weak bubbled laugh escapes her, as she allows Gale to bring her back into his arms. "Strong in the mental sense. I can still carry you around. You hardly weigh anything to me." The fact she was able to tease him meant she believed it, and he chuckled, though a flush still found his face as she slid close enough to settle in his lap.

"True, though if you didn't wear the world's heaviest armour and carry an oversized hammer everywhere, I could still probably carry you. Your height makes you less cumbersome in my arms than I assumedly am in yours, love." He still sounds fond and sweet, and Dana sinks into him, relieved by his comforting embrace.

[we-all-love-to-lie]

Dollar Tree Blades on Reddit by @we-all-love-to-lie

TW self harm, size and depth shaming, mention of sh tools

“do you have a sharpener?” i asked my mom

“no. get your own. i don’t need you ruining mine”

my sister says the same thing

so i walk to the dollar tree and buy a pack

“that should last”

but then they get dull so you go back

laced with rust and everything else i refuse to clean

telling the cashier i’m an artist and always lose things

and after a while of that i ask the internet

where they’re getting their sharpeners

because their art is better than mine

they’ve all matured past sharpeners

they’re all cool and advanced with their razors

but all mine do is tear up my fingers

so i ask again

because clearly i’m doing something wrong

“no use [redacted] they’re way more strong”

now my art is ‘cool’ and ‘deep’

it means something to people that aren’t me

but being cool doesn’t last forever

because there’s always someone better

whether in quantity or size

in years or in their therapists eyes

they’re better than everyone at destroying themselves

but they feel the same way about their health

no matter what someone will be “better” than you

no matter what you’re valid, i love you <3

[thenixkat]

Still fascinating to me that there's people who truly think their experiences are universal, that because something is popular in the circles they run in means that everyone should know it and will insult and treat people like stupid uncultured swine for even perceived differences in experiences. or if folks disagree with them when they make overly broad generalizations on what 'everyone' knows or thinks.

(b/c it's not like poor people, people from different cultures/subcultures, and people with fundamentally different interests exist.)

Like? That's complete asshat behavior.

[ichormanndrake]

The Aldereem.

Look upon them! The Alfs, as they're know to Man, are a psychically gifted race, sculpted during the Age of Creation, born from the same artisans as Man. Despite shared origins, it's hard to find commonality between the two races. The hyper-emotional minds and long-lived, sexless, bodies of the Aldereem are utterly foreign to Man's self-proclaimed nature. These people are aesthetically paper-skinned and lithe, but they're not to be underestimated, as even without the use of their magic, they transcend Mankind's lumbering and feeble nature. A single Aldereem is fully capable of being victorious in a fight against ten men. Fortunately, their blades rarely turn upon us, as we share the same purpose. As alien as these ancient people are, I feel privileged to serve alongside them.

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Snippet and link to Arkanis under the cut. Had some fun with an armour design then decided to throw it into that scene in chapter 3 with the trance. still have things to add like a broken helmet

 “ – and the dust is blown away.”

Stop! Stop! Stop! Teldryn beat his fist on the floor. He felt a crack, then a sharp pain shooting through his wrist and up his arm. His vision began to clear and the pounding in his head began to feel less intense. He felt himself gasping for air, not realising he had been holding his breath. His palm stung. Pain travelled up his arm like a slowly burning fire.

The room was dark, the light from the braziers casting harsh shadows across the chamber. The contrast and flickering made him feel nauseous. Before him lay a series of scrawled messages and symbols, all written in fresh, red ink or… It mixed with the ash, grey against red. The phrases were too familiar, the symbols all the same. The scribblings surrounded him in a circular pattern. Insectoid sigils reflected back at him. Words hastily written by a shaking hand. Letter forms familiar, the twists and thickness of each stroke identical to his own. The same phrases again and again. Each time, the same pattern. The same symbols the same –His palm stung and the pain shot up his arm. He shifted onto the balls of his feet, still in a daze and gazed at the palm of his right hand. A single deep gash ran across his palm. Blood was still pouring out of the wound. His dagger lay beside him, fresh blood staining the impossibly sharp blade. His.

He’d gone again! Gods, he hadn’t expected their calling to be so loud. It was overwhelming. Teldryn felt drained again. The sheer effort it took to keep himself present, keep himself grounded – here – was quickly outpacing the energising effects of the potions he’d taken earlier. Teldryn struggled to his feet. His legs were weak, wobbling like scrib jelly. He reached for the amulet on his belt and felt the warm surface of the enchanted glasswork vibrate beneath his blood-stained fingers.

[sesamenom]

Maglor Variations for the maglorath

normal outfit minus coat traditional Maglor Palette

pre-exile feanorian colors black & grey version

normal outfit minus coat plus glasses goth version plus glasses

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Moonlight

Whumpril Day 29 (Reluctant Caretaker)

Whumpril Prompts List

part 1

TW: exhaustion, fainting, paranoia, hunted, telepathy, magic whump

Summary: It's been many days since Jin fled the battle field. She attempts to pass through a grove in Moonshadow elf territory and stumbles across something inexplicable.

That's a wrap for Whumpril! I hope you enjoyed my contributions! :D

The moonshadow elf had been following Jin for some time now.

She wasn’t certain how she knew this. It was a full moon, she couldn’t see the elf unless they’d wanted her to. She hadn't heard them, either.

But she knew they were there. She didn’t know how. But she knew.

If Jin had to guess, the elf had started following her when she’d entered the small thicket, after the sun had set below the horizon. She might have trespassed into their territory, but she didn't care. She felt too exposed on the open plains.

Progress was slow, with the trees packed densely together. But the branches almost seemed to part before Jin, allowing themselves to be bent with unnatural flexibility so she could pass. She didn’t try to think about how the trees could be luring her into a trap.

If the elf was out to get her, they would have killed her by now.

But instead, they only watched and followed, nearly invisible from the power of the full moon. It would have been fitting if they did kill her. A moonshadow elf had taken her husband from her. Had taken her king under her watch.

That was in the past. Jin was a deserter now.

Her head snapped to the left, and she barely made out a shape in the darkness as it flitted past, unhindered by the wall of branches. No sound was made. How had she known to look?

Jin almost reached for her ax but decided against it. She had been traveling for days on foot, running on little sleep and the small amount of food she could forage. She was in no fit state for battle, no matter who her opponent would be.

Finally, through the branches, she spied open ground. A clearing? The other side of the forest? The spot where the trap had been laid out for her?

She pressed on. Anywhere was better than the pressing shadows of the trees.

The elf was waiting for her when she emerged from the thicket, spear in hand as they regarded her. Even in their nearly invisible moonshadow form, they appeared masculine, a guarded expression on his face. Behind him was a shrine constructed of white stone gleaming under the moonlight. Two symbols were carved above the gaping doorway. The first was the symbol of the moon arcanum. And the second….

Jin’s mouth went dry. Was that the… dark magic arcanum?!

“Who are you?” The elf asked softly.

Her fingers twitched, eager to hold her ax. Why was the symbol for dark magic on a shrine in Xadia? “I… I’m Jin.”

“Why have you come here?”

Was the ground moving? Why was the ground moving? “I… not… I don’t know.” Overcome by weakness, Jin fell to her knees. “What… what’s happening?”

The elf frowned and turned to face the shrine. “Neoma!”

Jin’s skin prickled as a faint reply echoed inside her head, the words incomprehensible. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to control her breathing as she struggled to stay conscious.

The elf sighed heavily. “Fine.”

A hand touched her shoulder. “Stop fighting,” he said softly. “You’re safe here.”

“N-no… I can’t… she’ll do horrible things…”

“Neoma won’t let her. It’ll be alright.”

Jin slowly nodded as she slumped. The ground was cool under her cheek. A small part of her, even as she slipped into the darkness, tried to protest. This isn’t right. Too tired too quickly. What if…

That, too, quickly faded away into oblivion.

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