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filopay · 7 months

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ELORA ESKILDOTTIR

thirty looking | she/her | 153 cm | Elf | Nord

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Many times you were spared, oh, I did my best Every night you would call for me with your steps I was trying to sleep I was trying to sleep for you Under perfection I woke As you protected your home Oh, I just kept getting stronger I did my best to control The growing unrest in my soul — Wolfie's Just Fine

Prompt from:@oc-tober2023 [ I am not following the same order ]

CW: Drug use

~ Flashback

In a dusty corner, the sparse light barely makes the woman visible, buried beneath scrolls and books.

She slams another book closed, frustration eating at her every bone, while dark circles beneath her eyes seem to grow by the hour.

"Another dead end." She lets herself fall back into the chair, eying the scattered information in front of her. Nothing of value was found.

If only she would find an answer to her many questions, find a good lead to know how to continue. When frustration makes its way through, she starts to doubt her own decision. She chose this very topic of research, but perhaps it was never meant to be brought into the light. An answer never to be found.

She lifts her hand, pushing her sleeve up to reveal blackened veins running down towards her hand. It had been there ever since she was a child, she had read in the many books, that it was supposed to grow until it covers the whole of her body, but it had never changed. Not for her.

If only she could remember that day she got the black veins - but it was so long gone and she had been but a child.

Then by chance, her eyes landed on a detailed illustration in a book to her right. A mushroom, dried, used to clear one's mind. If she couldn't remember, perhaps that could force her memories.

"I need something very specific." Elora interrupted the cook. Her red flaming hair as passionate as her request.

"Don't you always." The cook didn't even look up from her work,"Found something interesting in your books?"

"It's research. Everything has the potential to be interesting, but only worth the goddesses' time, until I tested and studied it."

"What you need?"

"Dried mushrooms."

The cook lifted a skeptical eyebrow. "Just any mushroom or a specific one?"

"The one that will give me answers about my own mind." The woman explains, dark circles beneath her eyes.

"By the gods, you better be careful with stuff like that. It can smoke your brains out, I tell you." Then the cook sighed, "There is no stopping you, however. I know what you need. Follow my instructions and you might be fine."

"I'll take the risk."

"You Heralds are crazy."

The smoke made her face heat up, cold sweat trickling down her neck as slowly her mind started to swim.

She didn't notice it kicking in, or so she thought, but as she started to stand up, everything was spinning and she was smiling.

"How could you do this to us!"

She knew that voice.

"You only ever think about yourself, so selfish and unruly. Is it my fault you turned out to be such an ungrateful daughter?!"

She remembers that memory. It was the fifth pursuer her mother had send after her and Elora had refused his advances bluntly so. Again.

"I will miss you, Élie'rel."

Her sister. She could never forget her voice.

"Don't ever change, no matter what anyone says. You will find your answers and surprise everyone. I am proud of you."

It was the last time she had seen her, had it already been too long to remember?

She shook her head. Focus. She was here for answers, not to feel guilty.

Back then Eyrier Lay, the white Valley, was prosperous and lively. The grand elven city En'ayn Mun stood proud and beautiful, the eye piece of the whole area. Lush forests and fields covered the valley. It were merry times.

She remembers the smell of the baked goods sold in the streets, the softness of her bedsheets, the warm sun on her skin when she drank her favourite tea atop the balconies.

She could feel it now. Her mother was smiling at her, her face younger, carefree. Elora can't remember a time her mother had ever smiled in her life. It was a foreign sight.

Everything around her was bright, she couldn't make out the details, but she felt her mother take her hand, they started walking down a copple stone street. Then suddenly, the light vanished, it was suddenly utter cold, the sky was black and she thought that black snowflakes were falling from the sky. Ash?

Then screams, her mother grabbed her small frame, hefted her up into her arms. Elora didn't see them coming, but she knew they were there.

Her mother only stopped when they reached their home. She locked the door, before asking Elora questions, she couldn't make out anymore. Perhaps even back then, she didn't understand them.

Then suddenly her mother was ripped from her view, she looked around, but her house was foggy, she couldn't clearly see. It was like a dream, no a nightmare.

"Mother!" She shouted, her small heart beating wildly in her chest. Then something gripped her wrist, tightly, she cried out by the pain, it was painfully cold, it was freezing her arm solid.

Then it let go and everything went dark, as she sunk to the ground of the library.

#oc-tober #oc-tober2023 #flashback #oc #elora #old image #black ice #i am behind!#not ready for this week yet haha still working on the 2 ocs from last week #october elora

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green-fifteen · 1 year

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Day 2: Soft

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairing: Gen (background Bagginshield, Kili/Tauriel)

Word count: 2,059

written for: @fluffyfebruary

Bilbo and Kili stomped over the doorway into Bard's house and were greeted by Tilda's cries of delight. She was always happy to see Kili because he put her on his shoulders whenever she asked him to. By the time her father emerged from an inner room, she was already perched there and grinning.

"Bilbo," Bard greeted him warmly. "I see you've brought trouble."

He smiled. "His mother deserves a break."

"Hey!" Kili said, and bounced a little to hear Tilda laugh.

They made tea and sat around the table in the parlor. Tilda ran off to play with her siblings.

"The wind is good for practice, today," Bard said to Kili mildly. "If you can wait until midday. I've a counselor coming shortly."

The Prince beamed at him and launched into talk about his latest archery innovation. Bilbo made impressed noises at what he thought were the correct moments while Bard threw him amused looks.

They would stay two nights in Dale, in an unofficial capacity. Bilbo had been aching to get out walking and wanted badly to see his friend. The King Under the Mountain, busy with plans for Durin's Day, had told his husband not to go alone. He'd proposed Dwalin escort him, but Fili had seemed restless for weeks since Tauriel had gone to visit the Greenwood, and asked to go instead. He always enjoyed visiting Bard's family. Bilbo suspected he just liked being around other young people who weren't Gimli.

After tea, Bilbo settled his things in his usual room and made his way out into Dale. It was still developing, barely two years since the dragon brought his devastation. It was doing well, however, and Bilbo could see the young metropolis it would turn out to be. Already traders from the other kingdoms of Men had set up in the markets and the ports of the Long Lake. There was much to see and even more to buy. He caught a good smell on a crisp breeze and let it draw him further from Bard's home, deep into the heart of Dale.

At midday, Bard and Kili took a pile of bows to the practice yard behind the house. Bard's children wandered out to watch them from under the eaves, wrapped haphazardly against the cold in socks and blankets. The young Dwarf showed off eagerly to entertain them. Bard only rolled his eyes and issued a new challenge.

The children went inside when the air turned colder. As the sun began to set, Kili and Bard followed them. They were not surprised to find Bilbo still gone, for he was always chasing down some fancy tasteful trinket or jammy tart.

When Bard's head of house called for supper and Bilbo still had not returned, they began to shoot each other worried looks. When Sigrid asked, "Didn't Bilbo come with you from the Mountain, Kili?" he assured her the Hobbit was probably out taking supper with a boat of bass fishermen or some baker's family. He had done similar things before, he said. But never without sending a note, he didn't say.

Finally, after the children went to bed, Bard informed his staff to keep a tight eye on the house and sallied forth with Kili to find the Prince Consort. He did not know which idea terrified him more: his friend being in trouble somehow, or telling the King he'd let his husband out of his sight long enough to get into trouble in the first place.

They were still out searching when Bilbo reappeared on the front steps of the house, dragging a pair of men in a cart behind him and wearing clothes that were noticeably grimier than they had been when he left. He pulled one Man and then the other from the wooden cart, heaving and panting and sweating. He cursed them irritably as they dropped to the ground. He left their weapons in the bottom of the cart, carefully covered them with his own overcoat, and moved the cart just out of view.

He glanced at the two Men lying at his feet on the ground. Soft-hearted old fool he thought, and then the door opened.

Bard's head of house, a man called Jorn, directed bowls of warm water to be brought to the sitting room and helped Bilbo carry the Men through the house to sit near the fireplace.

"I found these two near the Lake," he told Jorn, lying masterfully. "I was sure they'd had too much to drink, but then I noticed the lumps on their heads. Poor dears."

They patted the wounds on their heads with damp cloths and arranged them on pallets near each other. Bilbo dismissed Jorn with his sincere thanks and then settled in to wait.

It didn't take long for the young Men to wake. The first woke with a start and a cry, making Bilbo jump and spill half his tea in his lap.

"I say!" he demanded in a hushed voice, knowing the children had to be asleep upstairs. "Quiet, if you please!"

The Man looked around him, seeming confused and more than a little panicked. He saw the other man lying at his side and grew frantic, trying to wake him.

Bilbo stood from his chair to do his best version of looming. It wasn't normally that impressive, but this Man had already been on the wrong end of an angry Hobbit once tonight.

"I said be quiet," Bilbo intoned gravely. He tried to borrow the voice Thorin used whenever a ruckus erupted during council meetings.

It seemed to work and the Man went silent, looking at him fearfully.

The other Man suddenly woke up groaning and clutched his head.

Several minutes and a bit more delicate intimidation later, both Men were sitting in armchairs across from Bilbo, who had refilled his teacup.

"If you wouldn't mind telling me," Bilbo started, politely, "What were the pair of you thinking, attacking a gentlehobbit on the road at night?"

As Bilbo watched them, noting the nervous way they seemed to communicate with their eyes and the concave shells of their cheeks, he realized for the first time how young they were. He was never very good at knowing the ages of Men once they grew past his own height.

"We're sorry, Mister Hobbit," said the first boy, a blonde wisp of a Man. To Bilbo's satisfaction, tears gathered in his eyes. He did like being right about this sort of thing.

"I figured as much," he drawled, placing his cup on the saucer with a clink of china.

"We've never hurt anybody before," the blonde boy said again, his breath hitching. Bilbo thought he might be the older of the two. He hummed at him to go on and the boy took a few deep breaths, scratching at the arm of his chair.

"I'm Pater," he said eventually. "And that's my brother Liom. We saw you and well." He stopped, looking miserable.

"You don't know how to use that axe out there, do you, my boy?" Bilbo guessed.

He shook his head and the tears in his eyes slid down his face.

Bilbo looked at Liom, who was gazing at the coals in the fireplace with no expression. The Hobbit sighed.

"I'm sorry I knocked you boys about as I did. Only, you gave me quite a fright, you know."

Pater looked down. "I know."

And, because he was very hungry and his young ruffians looked half-starved, he bade them follow him to the hall where Jorn had set out Bilbo's supper. The Man was familiar with the Hobbit and his appetite, so the food he'd left him was more than enough to feed two scrawny boys. Their eyes went wide as they took in the table.

"Now," said Bilbo. "I'm willing to forget the circumstance of our meeting, so long as the both of you will do me a few small favors."

Liom looked very skeptical, but Pater nodded immediately.

"Of course, Mister Hobbit."

Bilbo counted off on his fingers. "First, I'd like you not to mention my roughness with you to anyone. It's a terrible thing to do, you know. Bashing people. Second, you'll need to help me with this supper here. I'm far too small a fellow to finish this off myself." He heard Jorn's affronted sniff from around the corner and supressed a smile. "Third, call me Bilbo."

They gaped at him, then fell on the food with ravenous hands. He watched them ignore the forks on the table, appalled. The Hobbit batted them about the shoulders and made them sit down and use the cutlery.

When Bard and Kili arrived, they were glum and exhausted. They were sure Bilbo was dead and dropped in the Lake or someplace. Bard was mentally drafting a letter in his head that conveyed both Your consort is missing and Please don't start a war. Kili was crying.

They heard voices in the hall and followed them to hear Bilbo saying, "Now, now! I won't have that fine flaky pastry treated like a mop, you villain!"

The two of them rushed in and saw the Hobbit seated across from a pair of adolescent Men, barely out of childhood. One was blonde and clearly terrified to see them. The dark-haired one looked over at them with a hard expression. Their faces were stuffed with Bilbo's supper.

Kili lifted Bilbo out of his chair and into the air with a shout that had Bilbo smacking at his head to be quiet. Bard watched the boys at his table carefully, but smiled with real joy and relief to see Bilbo safe in his home.

Pater and Liom were introduced to the King of Dale, who grasped their shaking hands and said he was glad to know them. They also came to know Kili, a Prince of Erebor. He grinned toothily at them and demanded to know how they came to meet Bilbo.

"Did our Burglar decide to kidnap you, then?" he said, guffawing with his arm around the Hobbit's shoulder.

Bilbo told them his story about finding the boys unconscious at the shore of the Long Lake and dragging them back to the house. Kili didn't hesitate to believe him, but amusement gradually entered the slant of Bard's eyebrows as he listened to Bilbo speak.

Eventually, he leveled the pair with a steady look.

"Is there someone in town waiting up for you tonight?"

They spoke to each other in furtive looks, as they had in the sitting room.

"No, Your Majesty," said Pater, lowly, eyes on his empty plate.

Bard slapped the table lightly. "You shall sleep here. See that you do not bother my children as you climb the stairs. Jorn will show you the room."

His tone was final and they did not argue with him, thought Pater's wide eyes found Bilbo's face. He lifted his eyesbrows at him and inclined his head toward the stairs. They went up to bed.

When they were gone, Bard watched his friend fidget with his napkin and waited for him to speak. Kili was finishing Bilbo's apple cake.

"I could not leave them lie there, Bard," the Hobbit finally said. "It is very good of you to let them sleep here. Thank you."

Bard snorted. "Oh yes, I let them. As thought you would not have snuck them in, regardless. I do know you, my friend."

Bilbo scowled at him, but did not argue. Kili still was not paying attention, so he said, "I'm afraid I may have been a little hard on them, at first."

"Knocked unconscious, you said?"

"Yes. Well. They were only trying to frighten me, but I didn't know that."

Bard slapped him on the back and laughed. Kili reached for a rasher of bacon.

"I can only imagine they thought you a soft target. I am sure they know their error, now." His voice was warm with fondness for his little friend.

Bilbo shrugged off his hand and flicked Kili's fingers from his pan-fried potatoes.

When they went to bed, Jorn and a kitchen maid cleaned the table, conversing a little about the events of the evening. When that was done, they doused the lights. The house was silent, but for the quiet sound of five children, two Princes, and the King of Dale resting peacefully.

FIN

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stil-lindigo · 11 months

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hobie motherfuckin' brown!!!!!!

#i am so normal about hobie brown (lie)#what the hell has this movie done to me #i have taken art drugs #cant. stop. drawing him. oh my god #its hard to tell but the webbing behind him spells out his name #my anticapitalist king. im sorry but i /will/ be purchasing a poster of you #hobie brown #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman #spiderman across the spiderverse #stillindigo art

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crayonurchin · 4 months

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First art of the new year is all about re-structuring your internal monologue.

In my early 20s I was working full time in London with many social commitments and a variety of hustles and side projects.

In my later mid 20s I cater to many sensory and social drain needs I have and indulge in special interests while respecting my lower energy reserves and celebrating my different way of processing the world.

Did I get more autistic? Nah. I got less fake.

[Art description: Three panels showing figures on a black background. Long descriptions follow.

1. A drawing of OP as a person with hip-length hair and a dress standing sadly with her hands clapsed together in front of her. She is coloured a muted rainbow gradient. Behind her, two pairs of nondescript figures chat while smiling. White text says, ‘I’m getting more and more autistic the older I get.’ 2. OP’s colours are brighter, and her expression looks happier. Crayon-like scribbles have crossed out the text from the previous panel. 3. OP’s colours are vibrant, and she balances on one leg and throws her arms out as she dances. The text above has changed to say, ‘I’m becoming more and more myself the older I get.’ \End descriptions]

#urchin art #autism #autistic #neurodivergent #neurodiversity #actually autistic #autistic things #autistic adult #autistic artist #autistic community #listen- the process of unmasking every fiber of your fabricated being is difficult #figuring out who you are behind the mask is scary #but continuing to act in a play where only you got no script is officially cringe #(this is me waxing poetic I am very aware of the safety needs of masking but that's not the point)#the point is ask yourself #are you getting MORE xyz?#Or are you becoming MORE of you?

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ohbother2 · 3 months

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do you know what?

I miss long seasons.

I miss seasons that had 20 episodes and half of them could be cut and nothing would be lost to the story.

I miss the episodes where nothing fucking happens but you get to see the main cast goofing around with one another. You get to see their interactions, their relationships develop, their day-to-day lives and how they all fit together in them.

You get the Christmas/halloween/valentine's special -is it needed? certainly not. but is it good? is it entertaining? does it give the show and characters life? do we, the viewers, enjoy it? YES!

give me long stories!! give me little quarrelling spats between characters that can be resolved in one episode with no need to have an impact on the greater story! make these stories real!

let me enjoy them before they end!!!

I absolutely love Hazbin Hotel and the little world that's been created, but I can't help but feel disappointed we're only getting two seasons of 8 episodes.

back in the early 2000's 16 episodes would have been ONE season, never mind the entire thing.

show my angel dust and husk and nifty and sir penthouse living their daily lives in the hotel! show me Charlie brainstorming ways to redeem sinners! give me Charlie forcing the hotel staff to do cringe-y exercises! give me an entire episode of Vox trying to follow alastor through security cameras! Give me husks typical day! Give me a special through the eyes of nifty on a mission to irradiate the hotel of bugs! Give me sir penthouse and the egg boys up to no good!

give me something other than the bare necessities to make the story flow

6 months have nearly gone by in the hotel, and it feels like 1 month.

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