#on a more technical note: I’m starting to play with the idea of elves getting their house colors from their parents

[silmaspens]

Feanorian Week Day Seven- the Courtship of Nerdanel and Feanor

#featuring grandpa mahtan #aw man these two #the mutual pining #not knowing if the other likes them back #realizing their both head over heals #???? #romance. #on a more technical note: I’m starting to play with the idea of elves getting their house colors from their parents #Feanor gets his gold from Finwe and his scarlet from Miriel #Nerdanel gets black from mahtan and turquoise from her mother #then their sons wear their combined colors #and so on #idk thought it could be a fun little cultural detail #first picture is Feanor and Nerdanel checking each other out at mahtan’s forge #they’re making a chandelier #next is fifi and nerd on their wedding day #all colorful n shit #last is nerd pregnant with Mae working on a statue of illmare #that’s about it #woohoo another fandom week down! #nerdanel #feanor #mahtan #feanorianweek #feanorian week #feanorianweek21 #my art #silmart #silmarillion #tolkien

[absynthe--minded]

So... Let's say that, on the wave of recent excitment for the upcoming book, somebody has decided to ignore both their official academic career AND the evergrowing pile of bought-but-not-read books on the bookshelf, and wants to finally dive into HoME... which volume(s) would you suggest starting with? Asking for a friend...

so my answer to this is Morgoth’s Ring, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.

the thing about HoME is that it’s not organized by category, it’s organized chronologically, so it starts with the very first stuff Tolkien wrote and builds out from there. If you’re interested in tracing the development of a particular character, it’s in your best interest to get the whole thing and use the index or a search function to track their progress, but if what you’re looking for is a specific story, that’s a different animal entirely. Morgoth’s Ring, in my opinion, has a lot of stuff that’s really worth reading if you want to start exploring more deeply and you’re already interested in the fandom as a whole, but there’s a lot more out there worth exploring, SO.

what I’m gonna do is go through the volumes and point out anything that’s there that I really like or think is relevant in terms of fanon. I’m excluding the middle volumes because they’re the rough drafts of The Lord of the Rings and don’t really come up a lot in conversation in the fandom, so this is gonna be the beginning and the end. I am of course giving my opinion as to highlights and must-reads, and if people feel like I’ve slighted their personal favorite thing, I hope they’ll say so in the notes! there’s so much and it’s scattered everywhere and I know I’ll forget something worth mentioning.

the way that HoME is structured is snippets of text in between long stretches of commentary by Christopher Tolkien, and the commentary is hit or miss. personally, I disagree with basically every point Chris makes, but it’s still worth reading in some situations because he will cite fragments or notes or asides that don’t get transcribed, or he’ll discuss things he did for the published Silmarillion that he judges to be errors. there are also footnotes written both by JRRT and by Chris, and those are always worth it in my opinion.

The Books of Lost Tales - technically this is one and two of twelve, but they have a very different structure than the rest of the History. here is where we’ll find the very earliest stuff Tolkien ever wrote about Arda, and here is where the beginnings of the ‘Mythology for England’ idea come into play. the basic idea for these books is that Eriol, or Ælfwine, a mariner presumably from the British Isles, goes on a solo voyage and gets horribly lost and lands on Tol Eressëa. from there, he becomes what I can only really call a weeb but for elves (elfaboo?) and starts asking a bunch of questions to the people who befriend him. they very obligingly start telling him everything, and as a result there’s a frame story for a significant part of these volumes that makes the whole thing feel very fairytale in a way that later works really don’t capture. the bones of the SIlm are here, though a lot of the political intricacies and character drama aren’t. it’s also a very incomplete telling, though all three of the Great Tales show themselves. highlights: the Tale of Tinúviel aka “the one where Beren is a Noldo and Sauron is a giant cat”, the most complete version of the Nauglamír story that we have (though I will argue that it’s noncanonical for various reasons), the only complete account of the Fall of Gondolin featuring horribly detailed Everybody Dies play-by-play

The Lays of Beleriand - this is a poetry volume so if you really don’t like poetry I understand skipping it, but if you do read it you’re in for a treat. the framing device is basically gone, but it’s worth pointing out that Ælfwine isn’t gone entirely - he pops up a few more times throughout the rest of HoME to serve as the in-universe writer of a bunch of fake sociological studies and articles. highlights: here’s where you’re going to find the full-length Lay of Leithian (incomplete, but the most detailed version of the story that we have so far) as well as the Lay of the Children of Húrin, which is also incomplete but has some really heartwrenching stuff as well as Beleg and Túrin kissing and Morgoth hitting on Húrin.

The Shaping of Middle-Earth - here’s where a lot of stuff that turns up in the Silm comes from, to the point that I can pick out direct quotes from Shaping that are in the published volume. still no framing device, we’re getting into the early Quenta properly. highlights: the Quenta, appropriately, which is useful not least as a compare/contrast between the source and the Silm, and the translations of the Fëanorians’ names into Old English. this is a great volume and I absolutely recommend it.

The Lost Road and Other Writings - this is kind of an oddball volume but there’s a lot of information here about Númenor, even if quite a lot of it is deviating from later and more definitive canon. We get a time travel story of sorts, with a distinctly more fantastical bent than your average time travel story, and information about what’s best described as a Sauron-driven industrial revolution meant to help challenge the gods. highlights: basically everything we know about Adûnaic is here

Morgoth’s Ring - skipping past The Return of the Shadow, The Treason of Isengard, The War of the Ring, and Sauron Defeated, we come to volume 10. if you are going to get only one HoME volume, get this one. Both during and after writing LotR, Tolkien returned to the Silmarillion, and began to introduce more character details in addition to worldbuilding and linguistics. With Laws and Customs Among the Eldar and The Statute of Finwë and Míriel we get information about marriage and birth and death and see the beginnings of the intricate interpersonal political drama in Valinor that so many fans have come to love and hate. the Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth is here, too. highlights: there’s too many to pick from so I’m just gonna say character descriptions! here is where we get the detail that Míriel Þerindë has silver hair. Nerdanel makes her first appearance, and this is the only source for much of the information about her character.

The War of the Jewels - this volume is my personal favorite, largely because of the Grey Annals, my preferred canonical source and my pick for best draft, riddled with Maedhros character details and Russingon subtext and raw dialogue. there’s other stuff here too but I think WotJ is worth it for that alone. this is a volume highlighted by timelines and outlines rather than full narratives, but there’s a surprising amount of detail and gut-wrenching pain and agony despite the lack of conventional storytelling. highlights: here’s where we get the famous “and their love was renewed” line for Maedhros and Fingon, same with the mention of the green Elessar stone being originally given to Fingon by Maedhros. Finrod tells Celegorm and Curufin “your oath will devour you” and that’s raw as hell.

The Peoples of Middle-Earth - some of the very last things Tolkien wrote about before his death, which places this in the same category as the upcoming The Nature of Middle-Earth in terms of timing/his greater career. the majority of this book is essays and examinations rather than narrative development, though a significant part of it is dedicated to Maeglin’s early life and particularly the travel times for Eöl’s journey that gave Aredhel and her son time to escape. there’s another version of the Statute of Finwë and Míriel here I think, but the full and more complete version is in MR. highlights: The Shibboleth of Fëanor, also known as “Dialectical Shifts Are A Conspiracy Theory”, which is notable for telling the story of a frankly comedic linguistic rivalry, featuring information about elvish naming customs, and giving a version of events at Losgar where Amrod gets burned alive with the ships.

I hope that helps! have fun!!

#replies #tortoisesoul #tolkien #absynthe's meta

[dorizardthewizard]

The Revival of Akillian: Chapter 11

Prologue / Chapter 10 / Chapter 12

11. SNOW KIDS VERSUS WAMBAS

Located on the edge of the marsh, the Jungle Stadium seems quite primitive from a distance: all in wood, poles and bamboo, covered with large hanging plants, crossed by a walkway formed from vines and flexible rods, accessible only by bridges of vines. Its technical tower, which supports the press and trainer pods, also made of wood, is adorned with a waterfall around which several plants flourish; curious decoration... but make no mistake: like all stadiums in the Galaxy, it is equipped by Technoid: synthetic memory turf filled with sensors, electromagnetic barriers, communication pods, referee terminals at high speeds, impact memory nets, exclusion pods, flying stretchers, giant holographic screens and so on…

In the dressing rooms, rustic but air-conditioned (a very attentive consideration from the Wambas for their guests, who have come from the cold), where a spherical screen suspended from a long bamboo pole shimmers, Aarch’s disconcerted team observe Thran, who is writhing in pain on the bench, hands on his stomach.

- Poor Thran, you really didn’t look at what was on your plate! - notes Micro-Ice.

- Please, don’t remind me… - Thran moans, pale and sweating.

- You have to be really stupid to eat that dirt! - criticizes Sinedd contemptuously.

- They invite us to eat, so we eat, it’s normal! - D’jok retorts. - It’s called politeness. Another thing you know nothing about!

- Tasting it was polite... oh... (Thran grimaces, doubled over) On the other hand, taking more was not a great idea!

- No way! How many times did you eat it?

He painfully raises three fingers.

- Well done, Thran! – scolds Rocket from the middle of the locker room. - You all heard Aarch: we absolutely have to win this match. And for that, we will need everyone!

- You think you can tell me what to do, new guy? - Sinedd barks. - Who do you think you are?

- Let it go, Sinedd! - warns D’jok.

- Thank you but it’s okay, I can defend myself. - assures Rocket.

He glares at Sinedd as if to say, “One more word and I’ll clobber you”, when Ahito wakes up with a start.

- I’ve got it! The Snow Kids!

They all stare at him, confused.

- What, weren’t you looking for a name for the team?

- Yeah, about two days ago! - Micro-Ice smirks. - You’re pretty quick on the uptake, Ahito!

- Yeah, the Snow Kids… I think it sounds good. You take Akillian… the snow, the sports… you put it together… you get the Snow Kids!

- Yeah… - muses D’jok. - It’s not bad at all. So who’s for?

All arms go up - even Thran, who manages to let go of his stomach. Only Sinedd does not participate in the vote.

- Me too, - says Aarch, who had just entered the locker room with Clamp.

- That’s fine with me, - approves the latter.

- You really like it? - Ahito is surprised, happy to have had a good idea.

- Yes, but a name alone is not enough. You also need...

-… beautiful brand-new football kits! - Clamp completes, his arms loaded with said jerseys.

- Oooh! Wow! Awesome!

He puts them on the table, and everyone rushes in to unfold their jerseys. They are blue and white, with two purple stripes on the arms, and the back is decorated with a large white number in a red circle. The same number is printed on the chest, but smaller, at the level of the heart.

- Awesome! – exclaims Ahito excitedly. - These are the same outfits that our players wore in Akillian’s heyday, can you imagine?

- It really does something to you… - sighs Micro-Ice, moved.

D’jok is quick to take off his T-shirt and put on the jersey.

- With this, we’re a real team now: the Snow Kids!

- That, we’ll judge on the pitch. - tempers Aarch.

While the Snow Kids rave about their outfits, Clamp, with a multi-function remote control, activates the spherical screen that displays a 3D football field.

- Alright! These will be your positions. - says Aarch. - Ahito in goal, Thran and Mei in defense, Tia and Rocket in midfield. Finally, the two strikers will be D’jok and Sinedd.

As he indicates each position, miniature figures of the mentioned players appear on the field.

- But what about me, sir? - asks Micro-Ice.

- You will be a substitute.

Sinedd laughs. Aarch turns to him.

- Something wrong, Sinedd?

- Ah! Uh, rhm… no no, nothing at all. Just something stuck in my throat… rh-rhm!

- But sir, I’m feeling on fire today, I swear! - Micro-Ice pleads. - Let me in and I’ll score three goals for you, minimum!

- Listen, Micro-Ice, being part of a team also means respecting the manager’s decisions. So, don’t argue!

- Yes, sir… - sighs Micro-Ice, lowering his head.

His disappointment is painful to see: for a moment, Mei could almost take pity on him.

***

On the pitch and under the burning sun, the waterfall which tumbles down from the top of the technical tower reveals all its usefulness: misted by a judicious ventilation system, it disperses a refreshing spray over the stadium, which prevents players - especially foreigners - from being overcome by the heat before the end of the first half. Another delicate consideration from the Wambas… with its large masts and canvas canopies, the entire stadium evokes a huge sailboat stranded in the middle of the jungle. A puzzling image, reinforced by the standard Technoid equipment: very incongruous in this natural setting, fixed among the wooden constructions using vines and ropes.

- Are you okay? - D’jok asks Thran, as the Snow Kids move to their respective positions.

- Yes, I feel better… hey! They are even more impressive in their outfits!

Team Wamba has just arrived on the pitch. With their large eyes, pointed ears, hands and feet with three clawed fingers, and slender body with fine and powerful musculature, they evoke the elves of ancient legends. Expressing fair play, they greet their young opponents with a small wave of the hand before taking their positions.

- Focus, kick off in a minute! – announces Aarch, leaning over his control screen in the pod reserved for him, where Clamp and Micro-Ice have also taken their places. The latter sulks, sitting on the floor in a corner. He doesn’t even want to see the game: he no longer cares. 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… 0, ticks the countdown on the monitors.

The ball bursts up from the centre, applauded by the crowd, composed mainly of Wambas. D’jok leaps up, but he is no match for Wouwambou, who starts out using the Roar. Haloed with golden sparks, he retrieves the ball in the air - his clawed foot grips it like a hand -, falls back smoothly on the field and whizzes past Tia and Rocket with a series of hyper-fast twirls.

Commenting on this game is Callie Mystic - she seems to have decided to follow the Snow Kids until the end of their journey:

- Let’s go! This is the first friendly game for Akillian’s new team, the Snow Kids. Immediate recovery of the ball by the Wambas, who lead their first offensive. Wouwambou directly evades Tia and Rocket thanks to his flux! He passes to Lun-Zaera who shoots - a shot blocked by a save from Ahito, the young Snow Kids goalkeeper, who immediately throws the ball to his brother Thran. Thran manages to dribble past two Wamba players and passes to Sinedd, Sinedd passes forward to Rocket, but it’s intercepted by the Wambas, who are on the attack!

Rocket, looking for Tia, does not see Lun-Zaera appear in front of him, shrouded in golden flames. He hesitates for a tenth of a second - enough for the fastest player in the Galaxy to steal the ball from him and storm the goal defended by Ahito, who this time has little time to sleep. Lun-Zaera comes across Mei on her way, who practically sticks to her and, with a skillful tackle, manages to deflect her shot: the ball ricochets against the upper bar of the goal. So much the better, because Ahito didn’t see it coming! His brother catches the ball on the fly, kicking it forward. The ball is picked up by a Wamba player perched on the technical bridge: an unconventional but authorized position, as long as his flux has allowed him to leap that far.

- What a game! - marvels Callie, who sees everything from multiple angles in the media pod. – This is far from a simple friendly match. The Wambas are not holding back, they’re imposing their rhythm in this game!

In a superb triple somersault, the Wamba sends the ball to the feet of a teammate marked by Rocket, who passes back to Lun-Zaera, who once again finds Mei in her way, managing to steal the ball from her this time. She passes to Sinedd, who takes advantage of a gap to attempt a forward breakaway, followed by an unmarked D’jok. Very quickly, Sinedd is stopped by two Wamba defenders, but instead of passing to D’jok, tries to dribble past them. He succeeds, only to be immediately tackled by a third who falls from the sky, taking the ball from him with a pirouette.

- What an idiot! – shouts D’jok, raising his arms to the sky.

- Oh dear, what’s going on? Sinedd seems to be refusing to collaborate with D’jok! – comments Callie. - Aarch will have to work on good cohesion in his team! Sinedd loses the ball, the Wambas quickly move up the field towards the opposing goal...

By a succession of highly acrobatic passes, the ball once again reaches the feet of Lun-Zaera, who whirls and shoots - once again, Ahito doesn’t see it coming: the ball is already in the net while he is still leaping.

- Goal!!! - Callie Mystic yells. - Taking advantage of a clumsy initiative from Sinedd, the Wambas have just scored the first goal!

Thunderous ovation from the crowd in the stands, who applaud as much this beautiful attack of their team as the heroic resistance of the young Akillians. In the pod, on the other hand, Aarch is not celebrating at all:

- What the hell are you waiting for? - he yells into his microphone. – Get the ball to Tia!

Each player, with an earpiece, receives the message loud and clear. Right off the throw, Rocket manages to snatch the ball away from an opponent and pass it to Tia on the other end of the field, in a beautiful, arced shot that draws a hum of admiration from the receiving player. Beset by Wouwambou, Tia has no other way out than to pass to Sinedd, who once again attempts a solo breakthrough. A Wamba tackles him, he dodges him with a jump and continues his charge, concentrated, ignoring his teammates - D’jok especially - who nevertheless signal to him. Good players, or wanting to give their goalkeeper a little work, the Wambas let him run...

- Sinedd is in possession of the ball again! - Callie comments. - He manages alone in front of the opposing goal, he shoots… what a masterful save by Bounzoff, the Wamba goalkeeper!

Despite his stoutness, he performs an acrobatic rear wheel kick in front of the net, magnified by a golden fire. The ball goes back to the middle of the field, miraculously intercepted by D’jok who immediately shoots - another save by Bounzoff, in an elegant somersault. Sinedd snatches the ball and shoots again - this time Bounzoff stops it with a hand. Spinning the ball on the tip of his big finger, he shakes a finger at the two breathless and crestfallen Snow Kids attackers.

- Bounzoff is certainly obstinate, - remarks Callie. - He has decided that today the ball will not go into his goal!

- What kind of play is that? - yells Aarch in front of his screen. – Are you playing football, or pinball?

The Wambas decide that this little interlude is over: from a very tight pass from Bounzoff to Wouwambou, they set out again. D’jok and Sinedd quickly retreat to the rescue of their defenders - overwhelmed by the dazzling attack of Wouwambou and Lun-Zaera, who exchange the ball at a remarkable speed, wiping out Tia and Rocket on the spot and confusing poor Thran, who does not know where to step. Sinedd then resorts to his treacherous blow which has done well on Micro-Ice: he dives forward and strikes the calf of Lun-Zaera, who flies into the air and falls on the lawn. Curiously, the terminal referees did not see the fault - perhaps they are rusty from the constant humidity... Wouwambou, who has already recovered the ball, performs a perilous leap over the Snow Kids defenders - the ball goes crashing into the net. Ahito didn’t have time to make the slightest movement to stop him.

- Gooooooal!!!  - yells Callie Mystic. - Despite that foul from Sinedd that I thought I saw, but which the Wambas ignored!

- Sinedd, playing like this won’t get you anywhere! - Aarch shouts, pounding his fist on the table. - This goes for the rest of you too. Push forward, damn it!

- We could make a substitution, - suggests Clamp.

- Oh yeah, great idea! - Micro-Ice stands up.

- No, - Aarch refuses. - I want them to find their feet with this setup.

- Still, it was a good idea… - grumbles Micro-Ice, who sits down in his corner.

The match resumes. Rocket takes advantage of having recovered the ball (he does not quite know how) to pass to Tia while shouting at her:

- Go ahead, Tia! Try your luck!

She takes to the ball at her feet... the more she runs, the more she feels this fabulous energy invade her, electrify her, overflow in blue waves. Suddenly, the Wambas seem slower to her: she avoids one, jumps over a second who has attempted a slow tackle, then passes back to Rocket who, immediately after receiving the ball, shoots it back in a beautiful, twisted angle.

- What’s happening? - cries Callie in awe. - Tia seems to be using the Breath of Akillian, it’s incredible! As you can see, dear holo-spectators, it is indeed the Breath that was believed to have disappeared!

Two Wambas try to retrieve the ball in mid-flight, but Tia takes off in a column of blue lightning, followed by Wouwambou all in golden flames, who gazes at her in admiration - the Breath! She has the Breath! - then falls back, letting her shoot... again, Tia, who is nothing but crackling energy, feels her foot swinging off like a powerful pendulum, hitting the ball which shoots towards the Wambas’ goal. This time it is Bounzoff who isn’t fast enough: despite his lightning reflexes, the ball sinks into the net in a splendid shot.

- It’s a gooooal!!! – exclaims Callie Mystic. - The first goal of the young Snow Kids against the skillful Wambas, thanks to a fantastic shot from Tia boosted by the Breath of Akillian! What a feeling, dear holo-spectators!

Delirium in the stands: the audience cheers this goal as if it were their favorite team that had scored it. So are the Wambas...

The Snow Kids jump around, clapping each other on the shoulder and hugging each other. Rocket would love to kiss Tia but he doesn’t dare, and just hugs her briefly - she pulls away immediately. Only Mei and Sinedd do not share the general enthusiasm: both are jealous - for different reasons.

- Woah!! - Micro-Ice also jumps to his feet, after seeing the nice slow-motion action on Clamp’s monitor.

- There! This is exactly how you should be playing! – Aarch finally rejoices.

- The Snow Kids are back in the match, revived at 2-1 after a spectacular goal from Tia, their young prodigy! - declares Callie Mystic.

To resume play, Rocket decides on his own to place Tia as the third attacker. Receiving no comment from Aarch in his earpiece, he assumes that decision is correct. Tia therefore finds herself facing Wouwambou, who looks at her strangely. He is in the grip of a painful internal conflict: on the one hand, a new respect for this player who masters her flux so well, on the other this “contract” with Artegor Nexus, which he must honor... he closes his eyes and clenches his fists. He would like to be a thousand miles from here, still sick on Akillian... and to never have met Artegor Nexus.

The ball shoots up from the center and the match resumes. Very fast, very physical, very acrobatic: this time the Wambas are no longer laughing, they know that they have at least one challenging opponent ahead of them.

- Tia has already recovered the ball and is moving up the field at high speed, she dodges all her Wamba opponents, it’s incredible! - Callie exclaims in wonder.

In fact, this battle comes down rather to a duel between Tia and Rocket on the one hand, Wouwambou and Lun-Zaera on the other, the rest of the players being reduced to the role of extras. Using the Breath sparingly but with unmatched precision, Tia intercepts balls from her adversaries and controls those sent to her by Rocket, who, even if he does not have the Breath, has precision in his shots down to the millimeter. Callie Mystic notices:

- Tia seems unstoppable! Thanks to a one-two with Rocket who returns the ball to her with pinpoint accuracy, she reaches the Wamba penalty area. She is caught by Wouwambou who rushes towards her, also boosted by the Roar…

As Tia takes off for her famous cannon shot, Wouwambou also tears himself off the ground… he hits Tia on the fly, at full power, at full speed. The shock of the two bodies “doped” by their respective fluxes is equivalent, on scale, to an airplane crash in the air. Both crash to the ground, devastated.

- Foul!!! - shouts Callie Mystic. – An unfathomable foul from Wouwambou, captain of the Wambas, renowned for his fair play! What happened to him?

Wouwambou, more solid and muscular than Tia, is just stunned and gets up quickly. Tia, she remains unconscious...

The two teams come running, alarmed. Rocket exchanges a look with Lun-Zaera, from which he reads a reflection of his own dismay. Angrily, D’jok approaches Wouwambou, but is blocked off by Bounzoff who snaps at his confused captain:

- What’s going on?! What’s the matter with you?

- I… I think I had trouble controlling my strength. I am sorry…

The Wambas do not know how to lie, and there is some truth to Wouwambou’s words: this is not how he intended to eliminate Tia; he just wanted to stop her relentless attack, so the Wambas wouldn’t be ridiculed by this newbie kid. He hadn’t thought Tia’s Breath was so powerful, hadn’t calculated that within him the Roar was at its peak, swollen with anguish over his dilemma. Indeed, he didn’t consider any of this... it was unquestionably a foul. A serious foul.

Resigned, he lets himself be taken by the exclusion pod, which will suspend him for five minutes ten meters above the ground. Through its glowing walls, he watches the flying stretcher carry Tia into the locker room... in any case, he feels he has accomplished his mission, to be even with Artegor Nexus. He wishes with all his heart that Tia, this little prodigy, will recover quickly from her injury...

The gong (a real gong, struck by a lavender-dressed servant) strikes half-time, which is timely. The entire Snow Kids team is in the locker room around Tia, still unconscious. Rocket leans over her and strokes her hair...

- Stand back! – orders Clamp. – Give her some space!

D’jok paces up and down, his anger still with him since Bounzoff had prevented him from telling Wouwambou exactly what he thought of him.

- Seriously, I can’t believe it! Such a serious foul in a friendly match, I find that disgraceful, right, sir?!

- Right now, D’jok, our main challenge is to find a way to heal Tia. Without her, the Snow Kids are no more, you understand?

- Don’t worry, I’ll get her back on her feet. - intervenes Dame Simbai, who appears at the locker room door. She walks over to Tia, carrying a bag of herbs and potions over her shoulder. - Dealing with a shock between fluxes is kind of my specialty, isn’t it, Aarch?

- Simbai, you are a blessing. - he smiles, reassured.

#galactik football #the revival of akillian #lets just keep pretending the white haired guy is wouwambou #hmm mei taking pity on micro-ice? i wonder if the author will do anything more with this sinedd-mei-mice thing

[sagasofazeria]

Since my story is a D&D campaign, if people want to know, I will happily share some of the more game-y stuff behind the characters! (@talesfromaurea & @hellishhin i know you guys were interested! Here you go :D)

As of right now in the story, they’re about level 4! By the end of the campaign though they get to level 15.

Faulkron:

- Dark Elf/Drow Fighter (Champion)

- In a little bit (story-wise), my friend hit a lucky streak and the power of the protagonist™ kicks in. Faulkron gets... terrifying. He’s technically still “just a fighter” but he’s really really good at fighting. Like, scary hyper competent. I mean, he started with almost maxed strength, and it only got better.

- He did a lot of damage, consistently rolled high. Sadly, he doesn’t get better armor than leather for a while, but once he does he really wrecks the enemies’ shit, goes full Stronk™ and really starts just soaking attacks.

- He was a fun character for me to see my friend play because he had no clue about any of the “fighters are boring” things that people say, and so he felt free to just play without worry. He just had fun with him and went for it. He wasn’t the most complicated mechanics-wise, but he still was interesting and had personality, so it worked fine.

- Also, although he is a dark elf, and his parents were from the caverns beneath the earth like usual, he was raised on a small farm on the surface by a human, and so he is very different than many other dark elves, especially if they were raised in the Underdark. His darkvision is a little different due to his eyes having to deal with more light than most dark elves, and though he could do the elvish trance instead of sleeping he usually chooses to sleep instead, because of being raised by a human. (In my world, elves can choose to sleep if they want.)

Fuego:

Halfling Sorcerer/Rogue

- Being from Zul’Zagan, he is equivalent to a Lightfoot halfling

- His subclasses are a bit wonky: Draconic origins for sorcerer (although he doesn’t know it yet), assassin for rogue (eventually. We’re also not quite there in the story yet.)

- Despite what you may expect, does not only have fire spells. It is a near thing, but not quite. The variety increases as he gets higher up.

- He also wanted to do some cool flavor things (which I’m always game for) so his abilities look a little different than standard.

- An example, his sneak attack damage is reflavored to be him heating his weapon. He also wanted his draconic bloodline to be more dormant, so he doesn’t have any of the bodily alterations or know draconic, he’s just very good at fire (as far as he knows). That’s also why he doesn’t know what type of dragon he related to.

- Fuego was big on DPS but low on defense (of course) so he was usually having to be protected by/hidden behind somebody else (Shakari or Jetra most often)

Jetra:

- Human Bard (Valor)

- I would’ve done Lore bard because of her love for finding secrets, save the fact that I wanted her to have learned from both her parents. Her mother was a singer/performer and taught her to sing, and then her father, the Paladin, taught her how to create magic and how to fight. So she mixed that all up and boom, Valor bard.

- Jetra was definitely the most “utility caster” of the group. She had healing, buffs, pretty much something for everything. And a sword, if it came to that. She was easily the most adaptable of the group in and out of combat.

- She also spoke a bunch of languages, including Leinai (the one spoken in Leinos, since she was born there), Common, Celestial, Draconic, and was learning Azerian at the beginning of the campaign.

Shakari:

- Blue Dragonborn Fighter (Eldritch Knight)

- She was yet another Fighter, but she was designed to be more of a mid-range fighter so as not to get steal Faulkron’s spotlight. Since the khopesh could be thrown and summoned back b/c of Eldritch Knight stuff, it worked fine.

- They were very high DPS, especially with their spells/lightning breath, and then they’d finish the enemies off with a good ol’ sword attack (or just to help teammates out).

- At the later levels she takes some more utility spells (since she couldn’t those first few levels because of Eldritch Knight rules), but she’s still mostly damage.

- Also a neat lore note, Eldritch Knight is not called the same thing among her people, but it is a traditional position in the deserts she came from, and some of the other Azerian tribes.

Alejandro:

- Human Fighter (Gladiator*)

- *Gladiator is just a slightly modified version of the Samurai

- Unfortunately, I never had planned on Alejandro being a key NPC, so I had to come up with him over the course of the campaign. Thankfully, he ended up complementing Faulkron’s fighting style well (DEX based as opposed to Faulkron’s STR based build), and they made a really good tag team playing off of each other (once they trusted each other more, of course.)

- He ended up being a pretty formidable fighter in his own right, so he and Faulkron together was truly an intimidating duo. While Faulkron was tanking massive hits and dealing some of his own, Alejandro would run around with his bazillion attacks and chip away at the enemy with his swords.

- I also gave him a high charisma, being the gladiator that he was. But also just. Hot.

•••

Anyways, having three fighters in the group was probably not a great idea in retrospect, but that’s how it ended up. Everyone in the current party has swords and that’s sexy of them, honestly. Another funny note is that they all have decent charisma too, everyone but the main character. Shakari had 13 CHA as a dragonborn, Alejandro had a CHA 14 just as a stat investment (again because Hot), Jetra had 16 because she was a bard obviously, Fuego had a 17 because he was a sorcerer. Faulkron had the lowest at 9. He does end up increasing it over the campaign, it ends up at 16 or something so he’s fine, but for the first part of the story he’s not so good with people.

All in all, they had a good dynamic with lots of potential for ass kicking which they definitely utilized, so who cares? Anyways, just neat stuff.

#not story #d&d things #character stuff #Faulkron Rhodes #Alejandro de la Espada #Jetra Avaki #Shakari #Fuego Tamir

[wolfpawn]

Threats and Collateral

Based on a request sent to me from an Anon - One shot ideas (if this is cool, please, thank you): how about Loki's reaction to his SO being brought in to the TVA as a way to control him?

Rating - General. 

Note - copious stills and gifs from the Loki Trailers and a lot of lifted dialogue from there too.  If anyone has other requests do not hesitate to ask :)

Loki scowled at the contraption around his neck, limiting his power. Looking around the containment area, there were many creatures and beings with similar around their own necks. Since being captured by the TVA, he had been stripped of his armoured clothes and placed in grotesque and frankly uncomfortable attire and given food that he assumed the palace hounds would turn their noses up at. 

He was yet to be spoken to by anyone of notable seniority as to what was the counts of which he was being held. They mentioned him altering the timeline but nothing more. He had to wait until he had a trial to know what was going to happen. Or so he thought. 

Loki never liked being manhandled, as most beings tended not to, but being grabbed and forcibly handcuffed made him eye those around him carefully. The guards that did so, did it quickly while another man stood back and watched studiously which brought Loki’s attention to him. There was no manner to age the man in front of him, not with where he was, so there was no telling if he could defeat him or not in hand-to-hand combat, though being handcuffed and collared also was to his disadvantage. 

“Follow me.” 

That was all the man said before turning to walk towards one of the elevators that dotted the walls of the room Loki was in. He had known better than to attempt to go near one before, the singed clothing and black burns on the floor and the unconscious what he assumed to be corpses of different beings telling him to do so without authorisation was not to be recommended. 

Though he did not trust the official of the TVA, Loki knew that whatever they wanted, they had no reason to burn him as they would not be so dim as to do so in such a fashion, ergo, he followed sceptically. Passing through the white line on the floor without being harmed and into the metal contraption to bring him to Norns’ knows where in the building. 

“I am Mobius M Mobius and you, are Loki.”

“You heard of me, I’m honoured?” Loki eyed him carefully. 

“Do you know where I am taking you?”

“You’re taking me somewhere to kill me.”

“No, I’m taking you some place to talk.”

“Well, I don’t like to talk.”

“But you do like to lie, which you just did. Because we both know you love to talk. Talkie talkie.”

Loki eyed the man with utter disgust at the juvenile and irritating manner in which he spoke. 

The elevator came to a halt and the doors opened, bringing the two men to a room bare of all objects bar a table, two chairs on opposite sides of it and some stationary equipment. 

Mobius indicated for Loki to sit at one side while he sat on the opposite side. “This is the TVA.”

“I know exactly what this place is.” Loki interrupted. “The Time Keepers have built quiet the circus and I see that the clowns are playing their parts to perfection.” “Big metaphor guy. I love it. It makes you sound smart.” “I am smart.” “I know.” “Okay.”

“Okay.” “What do you want from me?”

Mobius replayed the footage of Loki taking the Tesseract and explained how that was not the original timeline and then showed him what his actual timeline was, the events on Asgard with the Aether and the Dark Elves, him taking the throne under the guise of Odin, Odin’s death, the return of Hela, the destruction of Asgard and finally, the less than comfortable scene were Thanos choked him and snapped his neck in one fell swoop. With an unconscious rubbing of his throat, he looked at the agent across from him. “And you want me to help you because?”

“We need your unique Loki perspective.” 

“I don’t believe you.” Loki shook his head slightly. “I don’t think you believe anyone. This Loki variant needs to be fixed.”

“But why is it the Loki variant when those misfit Midgardians clearly are the ones that altered time. How was I supposed to know that what I did was altering time when they were the ones altering it?” Loki pointed out. “The breaking of reality was not my doing, but theirs, have them fix it.” “But you don’t want us to do that, not really. Because if we did that, you would have to be imprisoned indefinitely as you are not the true timeline Loki and you know that you will face a less than pleasant end soon. But if you help us, you get to use all these traits you love so dearly to actually do something and not be destroyed. “ “What happens if I help you and fix all of this, let me guess, you’ll imprison me then?” “No, then you will be offered to stay here and work for us and fix mess after mess for...well, who knows how long. Time works a little differently here.” 

“So, I help you, I‘m free to work for you, I don’t help you, I sit in uncomfortable clothes waiting to die of old age, which, if I am correct, may never actually happen here?” Loki checked. 

“Something to that effect.” Loki thought over his options. “I am not interested.” “I thought you might say that.” Mobius activated his computer screen and clicked on buttons. With how he was doing it, Loki was suspicious that he was not actually typing anything at all but pretending to do so to try and get Loki to change his mind. But after a few moments, the elevator door behind them rung out and opened. 

At first, Loki did not care enough to turn around. He suspected it was either someone to forcibly get him to comply, in which case, the ignoring served its purpose of not acknowledging such or it was guards to bring him to holding once more or to his new prison cell, which again, he did not care to acknowledge. But then, he felt the urge to look, especially when he sensed someone looking at him. When he turned, his eyes widened. “What?” He tried to rise from his seat but was pushed back down by a guard that seemed to just appear beside him. He glared angrily at Mobius. “How?” “We knew there was a high probability you would say no, we really needed you to say yes, so we brought a little incentive here for you,” Mobius explained. “I have studied practically every moment of your life. There is one single being in the universe you will willingly do anything for.” He pointed behind Loki. “Your adoptive parents, your adopted brother, sure, you’ll do stuff for them, when it suits. You used to be far more compliant, but then you grew up and realised your brother mattered more. You killed your biological father but her...you would do anything for her, wouldn’t you?” “No.” Both answered immediately. 

Mobius looked at them both as sat back slightly before pointing to Loki. “He’s the better liar.” “I told him not to do anything stupid and he thwarted that coronation and literally did the most stupid thing possible letting go at the Bifrost, so no, he would not do anything for me.” She glared over at Loki who looked at the table shamefully. 

“Yes, there’s enough time for domestic arguments at a later point, but we really need to get started on this.” Mobius focused on the matter at hand again. 

“Wait, isn’t bringing her here altering the timeline even more so?” Loki pointed out. “I feel as though there’s a significant case of double-standards going on here.” 

“It’s not really affecting the timeline because the timeline is already altered,” Mobius explained boredly. 

“How could it possibly not be affecting the timeline when having her being here instead of being where she would actually be is affecting the timeline?” “Because she is integral to getting you to fix the timeline,” Mobius argued. “But she was doing something when you took her, now that is not going to get done and that affects the timeline.” Loki countered. 

“We need her here to get you to say yes so you fix the timeline you broke, ergo, she fits this timeline.” 

“Wait, I am here because Loki broke a timeline so to fix the timeline he broke, we have to break the one I was in?” She clarified.

“I didn’t break it,” Loki explained. “Thor and his Midgardian friends went back in time because they wanted to change the future but I touched something I was not supposed to touch while they were doing that because their attempts to get it went awry because they are idiots, so technically, they broke the timeline and I am being forced to fix it because it apparently my touching the Tesseract goes against TVA rules but them going back in time and altering the whole future does not.”

“By breaking the timeline I was on, which in itself is a breach of these rules?” She asked in disbelief. 

“Exactly,” Loki confirmed. 

“No,” Mobius stated a mere nanosecond after. 

“It seems like it to me.” She looked at Loki for confirmation. “Me too.” Loki concurred.

“Well, it’s not.” Both looked at Mobius sceptically. “So, you help us and everyone is happy.” Mobius clapped his hands together. “So, let’s get you started as an agent.” Mobius pressed a button and Loki fell through a portal in the floor. Mobius rose to his feet and straightened his jacket boredly. “These men will bring you to the guest rooms.” “I think I rather do something while I wait.” “I don’t think so.” “I wasn’t asking.” She gave a smile that said she would not be dissuaded. “This is a big place, I am sure you can find somewhere for me and good luck trying to control him.” She laughed before walking out of the room. 

Mobius sighed. “I immediately regret this decision.” He rose to his feet and went into the elevator. After a few minutes, the doors opened to show Loki looking at him in a shirt, tie, jacket and pants. “That better?”

“It will suffice.” Loki walked in and stood next to him. 

Mobius remained looking forward as the elevator moved again. “I just need to grab a few things, and we will begin.” 

Loki said nothing in response. 

Mobius walked out of the elevator and the door remained open until his return a minute later, entirely in different attire and looking almost as though he had showered. He fiddled with his tie as he walked back in. 

“I have to say,” Loki stepped towards him and centred his tie as he spoke. “I think it’s adorable that you think you can manipulate me. I am ten steps ahead of you.” “Is that right?” Mobius barely had a hint of curiosity in his voice. “Oh, it is.” Loki sneered. “Nor can she. Though, I am curious, where is she?” “Gone to dictate to whoever is stuck dealing with her.” Mobius looked straight ahead. “She will be fine.” “She had better, or else,” Loki snarled. “Or else what?” Mobius glanced sideways, no emotion in his voice.

“Or else I am going to burn this place to the ground,” Loki swore with a smile. 

#Loki fic #Wolfpawn #Threats and Collateral #One shot Loki

[imagine-loki]

Pride and Prejudice

TITLE: Pride and Prejudice CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 50 AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths.     RATING: Mature   NOTES/WARNINGS: Forced Marriage, not all fun and games. My first real step back into the Loki scene in over a year.

I literally have this written with over a week and just as a tab on my computer but I suffer from ITS, Idiotic Thoughts Syndrome which makes me really mentally weird and my mind tells me no one likes my stuff, I just had a few people message me over the last day about this telling me they love it which forced me to feel like I am letting them down if I don’t post it which, by the way, is sometimes the best way to motivate my shitty ass, so yeah, it needs saying, if you like this, please let me know, it actually gets me to upload new chapters. I have some written, so…yeah.

Tags - @skulliebythesea @asimovethroughthisworld @blackcherry26-blog @we-shadowhunter2901

The roar of the Bifrost resounded across Jotunheim, declaring to the realm that the Allfather had arrived. Loki and Ella stood in the aforementioned agreed place of landing for the Aesir royal family with a few others with them. On seeing her parents, Ella smiled brightly, though her nervousness at revealing to them that she was carrying a child still played slightly on her. She had decided to inform them of their impending grandchild later in the palace, but for now, she hid it under a heavy cloak. When her parents and brother emerged from the startling light, some of their guards and even two of the Warrior’s Three with them, Loki and Ella stepped forward. 

Both Odin and Frigga seemed to immediately look at their daughter more than anything else, Frigga more so than her husband. Though the pair had been conversing through their seidr, it was the first time mother and daughter had been physically in one another’s company since the wedding and especially since she had been ill. Loki and Ella bowed as was expected to the Allfather and Allmother, who in turn both lowered their heads slightly in recognition of the gesture. Thor, who had stood back slightly came forward to deal with the formalities of the situation, though part of him thought it to be entirely unnecessary. Technically speaking, those arriving for the coronation were not doing so yet, so their being there was not on an official basis, more so on being there to assist their daughter and her husband, should they be required to assist so the bowing and such, the stoic interactions were something he wished did not occur. He had fought alongside the Jotnar, bled and lost brethren with them, that made the pageantry unnecessary in his eyes. He wanted to speak with the allies he had made again. 

“Allfather,” Loki bowed to Odin before turning to Frigga and doing the same. “Allmother, thank you for joining us for this momentous occasion.”  

“It is a great day for Jotunheim.” Odin declared though he looked warily at his daughter to see if she had been better treated since his last seeing her. Frigga had informed him that Ella looked healthy and happy when they spoke together but he did not fully believe it. She had put on a facade in the time up to her health scare, she could very easily do so again. But seeing her smile brightly, if not slightly apprehensively at them, there was no denying that she was indeed healthy again. If anything, he noted she seemed a little weightier than before, though he would never state such aloud, he always maintained she could do with a little more weight, especially after she got sick as a child. He wanted to be less formal, to speak with her but this was not the time. “It seems like life is developing well since the Casket’s return, a great success.”

Loki, Ella and many others gathered on the Jotnar side gritted their teeth with regards his comments on the Casket, all thinking the same with regards to him taking it in the first place.” “Jotunheim has never seen prosperity like it. The food is plenty, the many are healthy and the population is about to see an explosion like never before,” Ella beamed. “And with Loki’s rule, it will be even better.” The confident look she gave him and his smile in return startled the Aesir royals to the point of silence. In her talks with her mother, Ella rarely spoke on Loki in any manner, much less one to suggest to her mother that she thought so well of Loki. 

Odin was the first to find his voice again and cleared his throat which in turn, broke the peculiar feeling in the group gathered. “Good, the realm deserves a fresh start.” 

With the formalities completed, everyone headed to the palace. The Jotnar they met on route glanced at the Aesir party with intrigue yet not overly concerned. The Aesir mate to their soon-to-be king had caused many who had been wary before to trust the Aesir slightly more and with Loki’s coronation, they knew this was a necessary evil to host the Allfather once more. 

When they made it to the palace, Ella led them to their rooms with Loki by her side. As soon as all but her brother, his friends and her parents were gone, she walked over to her father and placed her hand beneath his own on Gungnir. “If I may be so bold, I need to borrow this for five minutes.” 

Odin frowned at his daughter. He had not even spoken directly to her since their arrival and she had not explained why she would require one of the most powerful weapons in all of the realms but the pleading yet confident look on her face told him that she felt whatever she planned required it greatly enough to ask. With a slight nod, he relinquished his grip on it and watched as she rushed off, Loki looking at her with confusion on his face as she left. When the young Jotnar noticed the Aesir royals looking at him in bewilderment, all he could do was try to express that he too was oblivious to what his mate was doing. 

Three minutes later, Býleistr walked past them looking terrified. A moment later Helbindi and Greta walked into the hall, both seeing the confused royals gathered in the hallway, both looking equal parts in awe and somewhat scared. 

“What did she do?” Loki half winced, not sure what they were going to say. 

Helbindi grinned. “Did you ask her about the space issue?” Loki nodded. “Well, it is dealt with.”

“What?” Loki cocked his head. 

“She’s after dealing with our space issue,” Helbindi repeated. 

“How?” “No idea. She used some golden stick and her seidr to do it.”

“That’s not a stick, that is Gungnir,” Odin growled, displeased that anyone would disrespect his powerful weapon in such a manner. 

“Gung...I thought only the Allfather could use that?” Helbindi looked to Loki in confusion. 

“Why do you seem surprised?” Loki chuckled. “Ella does as she sees fit, even powerful magical weapons know better than to argue with her.” He threw his eyes up playfully as he said so. 

Barely a moment later, Ella walked through the hall once more, looking proud of herself, Gungnir in her hand. When she got to her father, she smirked and handed him back the staff. “Thank you.” 

“That suits you far too well,” Odin commented to his daughter as he took back Gungnir. He used his seidr to read the magic that the staff had recently worked with to see what she had done. When he sensed it, he studied his daughter’s face, startled by the smirk on it. “How?” “You limit your abilities too much, Father, by your choice not to expand them.” She walked over to Loki who looked curiously at her. “The space issue is rectified.” “So ‘Bind said but how?” 

“I may have tripled the palace.” “I’m sorry, you what?” Loki could not comprehend what she was saying. 

“I used Gungnir to magnify my seidr and simply made the palace bigger. We needed more rooms, I made it that the living areas of the palace are now copied a few extra times so we can house all those who wish to be here. I also used it to make the areas habitable to those arriving. The last thing we need is frozen Light Elves.” 

Loki could not think of an answer worthy of the statement. When he mentioned his concerns to Ella, she smiled and promised to rectify it. When he asked her how she planned to do so, she merely smiled and repeated that she would do so and not worry about it any more. Seeing her do so in less than the time it took to get to the throne room, he found himself wondering how he could ever have thought her to be dim-witted when he first met her. “Always finding solutions.” He smiled kindly at her. 

“What would you do without me?” She smiled before looking over at her parents and brother who clearly were uncertain as to what to say with regards to their daughter’s clearly altered situation. Thor knew that Loki had developed from the arrogant being that he had seen for the wedding, even speaking to him when he came for their assistance but seeing now that it seemed to even have grown more intrigued him slightly, especially because Ella seemed different. She seemed a lot more open, something he had not been used to on Asgard. To him, she was always an annoying prankster at worst or disinterested in him and his friends at best. She never seemed to do anything but stand and listen to court or speak almost stoically with friends. Now, she seemed so much more outgoing and confident. 

“I think we best get settled.” Frigga turned to Odin, who clearly was weary, though no one would admit to such out loud, especially Odin himself. 

“Yes, when you do so, Loki and I must speak more with you,” Ella stated. Her parents stared at her worriedly. “Yes, we are nulling the marriage and I am taking the veil.” Each word dripped with adequate sarcasm befitting her deadpan tone and facial expression. “Surprise.” 

“I thought you had matured, I was getting worried.” Thor scoffed. 

“And be boring? Perish the thought.” Ella shuddered. “Go get settled. We will ensure everything is as it needs to be here and then we will speak more.” She bowed slightly. “Until then, I am getting something to eat.” With that, she walked off. 

Helbindi scoffed slightly before encouraging Greta to back to their rooms to rest. Her heat had settled and she was currently waiting to see if she had become pregnant anxiously while also assisting with the coronation with the other female mates. Helbindi was forced to deal with other matters meaning he only say her for small parts of the day but was adamant that she rest adequately. 

Loki looked after his mate for a moment before looking at her bemused parents. “I best alert my father than all are here.” “Where is Laufey?” Odin asked. 

“Resting, I fear. His health continues to waiver so he must rest more often, hence this unprecedented event.” He bowed slightly. “Until later, please, make yourselves comfortable.” With that, he left to follow do as he said and inform his father. 

“Do we even want to know?” Odin asked his wife. “What did she say to you?” “Nothing worthy of speaking with us like she is implying she needs to, perhaps it is to do with the coronation, she seems slightly concerned with regards to that,” Frigga shrugged. “Nonetheless, it would be wise for us to attempt to prepare the rooms, those ice-beds do nothing for your back.” 

“You hardly doubt it took Ella that long to merely duplicate a few rooms? She has readied ours to our liking also.” Odin informed her. “She said she did it in the other wings but she did it for us also.” 

“How could you possibly know that?” 

“Do you think you are the only one she can communicate silently with? Why do you think we both held Gungnir for a moment?” His chest puffed out proudly. “It was from us both that she became one of the most powerful seidr wielder in the realms, not simply one.” He looked at the staff in his grasp. “Had she have been a son, she would have been terrifying.” Thor was about to say something when he saw his father inhaled deeply in a manner that always meant he was about to say more. “A warrior for an heir and a seidr-wielding assassin as his highest general, it would have been terrifying.” “The Norns knew it would have been too much,” Frigga commented. “She seemed to have little issue with Gungnir.”

Odin looked at his staff, something he could never remember fighting without since the day his father Bor died and it was placed in his hands as his successor. “Yes, so it would seem.” His voice was distant as he did so, telling Frigga that he was thinking of something in his own head. 

#Loki #others #submission #submitted fic #Pride and Prejudice #Chapter 50 #wolfpawn

[scribblingfangirl]

WANDERLUST | The Witcher - Jaskier

not my gif!

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Author’s Note: My second attempt! I’m still not able to find a good ending, but I think I’m getting there. English is not my first language, so I hope there aren’t to many mistakes.

word count:  ~ 1.9k

prompt: //

warnings: //

.•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•.

You were standing behind the bar, chatting with yet another drunken guest, well, rather distracting him from the fact that you hadn’t, even after his fifth attempt, given him another ale, when the door to the tavern flew open.

The man you had been fretting about since he had left with the Witcher the prior day stood there, smiling at you with open arms. “Mind my words Posada! The next thing you’ll throw at me won’t be bread! It will be coin! I will enchant you with the tales of the White Wolf and how he defeated your devil!” 

His sudden appearance and outburst startled a few of the guests that were spread out throughout the tavern and not drunk enough to be able to ignore him, resulting in a few spilt drinks and angry mutterations. You just sighed, while Jaskier, stupidly unaware of his surroundings, walked as if nothing had happened up to the bar and took a seat, scaring away the drunkard.

It would be a lie if you said that you weren’t glad to see him this way, alive and happy. Having heard the dark stories and tales about the Butcher of Blaviken, you couldn’t but be afraid for Jaskier’s life, or rather, his mouth, as he had the extraordinary ability to talk him into very stupid and dangerous situations. Yet, you knew what the grin and the mischievous glittering in his blue eyes meant. He had found his muse, his inspiration and would soon be leaving to begin a new adventure. It was just like the day he left his old life behind to pursue his new calling as a bard.

So, all you could do was chuckle at his usual exaggerated behaviour and started to wipe the counter. It was dark outside, well into the night and almost, if not already, closing time for the tavern, but you were waiting for Jaskier, knowing he’d return to you if he saw the lights still lit. Not that you would tell him that, or anybody else for that matter. You both might have been young, but his reputation was already well established and you didn’t want to be just another girl in his bed. You’d already lost your appreciation for yourself the moment you started to follow Jaskier around like a puppy and you didn’t want to sink any lower in your own regard.  

“You heard that? I’m going to be Geralt of Rivia's barker!” Jaskier said while leaning across the counter and tapping his finger excitedly against it. For the other tavern guests, it might have seemed, as if he was afraid, that you wouldn’t be able to hear him. You knew, however, that this was just his way, unconsciously always searching for a little more closeness than before.

As did you. Even though you could have lost yourself in his blue eyes, you soon felt your own wandering down his face, following the lines of his neck, over his Adam’s apple and stopping at the visible line of chest hair. Thankfully, he had already leaned back and turned around, not seeing the way your eyes betrayed you, as he started waving happily at the Witcher, who had just appeared in the doorway. 

You blushed in the meantime, cleared your throat, and hopefully head as well, not used to such a closeness to the bard. “The usual?” you asked to distract yourself and went to grab a clean glass behind you, hoping to give your face enough time to cool down.

“No,” you heard him say behind you. “Give us the best and strongest ale you have. After all, he defeated the devil of Posada!”

“Was it really the devil? With horns and all?” you asked, turning around and seeing that the Witcher had now approached you both and taken a seat besides Jaskier.

“Yes! And I’ve got a song to tell the tale! You’ve got to hear it! Oh!” he suddenly stopped, then smiled and stood up, bringing is lute to the front of his chest. “Actually, I have to perform right now it in front of this ungrateful lot. Let’s see how close I can bring them together now. This is…”

“... a story for another time,” the Witcher finished the sentence for him, his deep voice thick with annoyance and tiredness. He waved you off as you went to grab another cup, telling you to put the alcohol back. “This lady seems to be cleaning up and probably wants to close the bar. I’ll retreat to my chambers now.” After he stood up, he pushed Jaskier forcefully back into his seat, as he passed him to go to the stairs leading to the bedrooms.

“He’s either incredibly stupid or extremely brave, if he agrees to be accompanied by you, Jaskier,” you say as you look after him, completely missing the faint hint of jealousy that washes over the bards face.

“Hm,” you heard the Witcher grumble, as he stopped at the beginning of the stairs, having heard you thanks to his reinforced hearing abilities. “I never agreed to anything. You might even make a better travel companion.” Then he definitively stomped up the stairs, leaving Jaskier squirming, gesturing indignantly with his arms at the edge of your field of vision and squeaking helplessly. 

“You’re already welcome!” the bard finally called after him, but you doubted that the Witcher heard it, reinforced hearing or not. Then he placed his lute carefully on the counter. “Isn’t she sexy? I got her from Filavandrel after one of his fellow elves broke my old one. That’s at least one reason to celebrate,” he added quickly, as he saw that you had started to clean up the bar for real and gestured to the last guests to pay up and leave. “Why does nobody ever care about Jaskier?”, he asked then, pouting and slouched against the bar, staring at the wall in front of him.

“I care about Jaskier, a lot, but some of us do have a job so that they’re able to go home with some coin.” Without a second thought, you pushed his hair out of his face, so that you could take a proper look at him, freezing for a short while the moment you touched his forehead and then retracting your hand and occupying it with any task you could think of.

Jaskier didn’t react immediately. He seemed frozen too, then moved his head and looked at you, still slouched against the counter, but a with a bright smile plastered on his face. You didn’t like that look. Suddenly he heaved himself up, clearing his throat and supported himself with his arms on the counter. “You could come with us! Be my muse! After all, Geralt did say that you might make a more favourable companion than I. You must give me the possibility to prove him wrong!” 

The silence that followed his request gave him the answer he needed but didn’t want to hear. “You… You don’t want to?”, he inquired stunned.

“Jaskier.” You breathed out his name and weren’t even sure if it was loud enough for him to hear. Gladly you took the coin the last tavern guest handed you as a distraction. This was his wish and dream, not yours. You weren’t a traveller, didn’t want a big adventure, just a cosy home and someone who loved you to come home to. Things Jaskier would never be able to give you, you knew that and yet, your heart just couldn’t let go of him.

“Why?” His voice nearly broke saying just this one word and he stared at you, his eyes wide open as he grabbed your hands, that were scrubbing the same spot over and over for the past minutes.

You clenched your eyes shut and blew air out of your nose. “We both know why. I mean, come on! The university staff was right to look at me weirdly as I quit my job at the same time as you. I should’ve just stayed in Oxenfurt as a librarian. Look at what you’ve been doing while I stayed behind, watching over drunkards and sweeping tavern floors. What would I be even bringing to the table?”

His hands clenched tighter around yours. “I think we have to go now.” 

That was an answer and reaction that you weren’t expecting. “What, where? Wait, Jaskier!” You almost didn’t have the time to finish up your work behind the bar, as he started to pull you towards the exit.

Opening the door for you, he let you get dressed quickly before he shoved you out into the cold air. “I have to show you something.” 

This is when you realized that he let go of your hand and instead intertwined his fingers with yours. Blushing again, you tried to hide your face somehow from his view and act as nonchalantly as possible, even if it was almost pitch black at this time of the night, save for the occasional torch that was nearly burned down, and almost impossible for you to see his face, to begin with.

He stopped suddenly in front of the stable and turned you around to face him, looking serious. “I want to introduce you to someone. But do not tell Geralt about it! See… well, technically,” he started to babble nervously and his fingers fidgeted against yours. “You know what? Never mind!” He pushed the stable doors open. “Meet Roach!” 

He had a plan, at least that much you had to give him. He knew how much you liked animals, especially horses, and wanted to convince you to join his travels by saying that you’d be able to watch over Roach and maybe even convince Geralt to let you ride her. Sadly, after walking around the stable for a few minutes, Jaskier had to admit, that he had no idea which horse it was, as he didn’t know what she looked like anymore.

You just punched him lightly in his shoulder and laughed, as you finally exited the stable. “All right, all right! You tried and you convinced me. I’m coming with you! Even if it’s only to help you out of tricky situations and keep track of your, apparently, rather leaky brain. But I won’t be playing matchmaker. If people are stupid enough to follow you into your room, that’ll be their fault.”

He turned around, after closing the doors behind you, looking bewildered. “Why would I need a matchmaker? As far as I’m concerned, there is a beautiful young barmaid right in front of me. My, as I’d like to call her, muse, whom I’ve been trying to impress since seeing her the first time in Oxenfurt, but, admittedly, failing miserably every time.”

This time your silence gave him the answer he needed and wanted. It would have been a lie if you’d said that you weren’t stupid enough to follow him to his room and that you were angry for throwing your own rules out of the window so fast. Being his muse for a little while and travelling with him and the soon to be White Wolf - and yes, deep within Geralt was thankful for the image change - was something you’d never come to regret. You were still young, after all, and had your whole life in front of you to find someone to come home to, and who knew? You’d helped Jaskier achieve his dreams, he might be able to help you achieve yours.

#jaskier x reader #jaskier imagine #jaskier one shot #jaskier fanfiction #jaskier x y/n #jaskier x you #the witcher imagine #the witcher x reader #jaskier #jaskier the witcher #my writing #viascribbles

[aion-rsa]

The Legend of Zelda: Are Zelda and Link Really Brother and Sister?

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In a recent look at the many unsolved mysteries and urban legends of the Legend of Zelda franchise, I briefly mentioned the idea that Zelda and Link are somehow related. At the time, I felt that the idea that those two characters could possibly be related was simply an urban legend. However, it’s since been pointed out that some interpretations of their relationship actually make that idea something closer to an unsolved mystery.

It sounds crazy, but what’s really crazy is that a deeper look into this subject reveals that the nature of Link and Zelda’s relationship throughout the years isn’t nearly as clear as it appears to be at a glance. Actually, if you spend enough time diving into this topic, you’ll not only start to see why people think that Link and Zelda are siblings; you may even start to convince yourself that it’s true. 

Is it true, though? Could two characters most commonly associated with an epic romance that spans hundreds of years of history really be related? Here’s what we know about the long-standing mystery that has sparked a seemingly endless debate. 

Princess Zelda Was Link’s Mom and Sister in a 1989 Manga (Kind Of)

Let’s start with one of the weirdest corners of the Zelda universe: the 1989 Legend of Zelda manga written and illustrated by Yuu Mishouzaki. 

In that manga, Princess Zelda XVI has a forbidden relationship with an elf warrior named Rune. The two have a child (who turns out to be Link), but because the King of Hyrule is apparently prejudiced against elves, they decide to have Impa raise their child in secret. Later, Princess Zelda XVI has another child named (appropriately enough) Zelda XVII. So, in a weird way, there’s one Princess Zelda in that universe who is Link’s mom and another who is Link’s half-sister.

So was any of that information used in the games? Well, those early manga stories were technically based on the original Zelda games, but you have to remember that they were loose adaptations of games that were fairly light on plot. Their writers had to fill in a lot of gaps and were clearly afforded a lot of creative freedom in their attempts to do so. Still, it’s easy to see why these mangas have been dismissed as non-canonical over the years. 

Interestingly, though, there are elements of these stories that did survive in later games. For instance, Zelda disguises herself as kind of a “tomboy” in one of the manga stories, which is an idea that we saw in Ocarina of Time years later. Another manga story suggests that Link is represented by a wolf in the Dark World, which is oddly similar to one of the core story/gameplay concepts of Twilight Princess.

Even if Nintendo has brushed aside those mangas as non-canonical over the years, that doesn’t mean they weren’t potentially inspired by some of their concepts when they were designing some of the future Zelda games. So was the idea that Link and Zelda are brother and sister one of those concepts? Well, that’s where things get even weirder and even more interesting…

A Link to The Past Created a Lot of Confusion About Link and Zelda’s Relationship

I mentioned this in my look at the various Legend of Zelda myths over the years, but it’s fascinating to see how many of the “Zelda and Link are brother and sister” rumors can be traced back to a Link to the Past. 

To reiterate, there’s a scene at the beginning of the U.S. version of A Link to the Past where we see Link’s uncle say “Zelda is your…” shortly before dying. The dialog of that same scene roughly translates into “Y-you are the princess’…” in the Japanese version of the game. Both of those statements certainly seem to leave the door open for the possibility that Link’s uncle was about to say the words “sister” and “brother.”

Years later, the Game Boy Advance version of A Link to the Past seemingly clarified this matter somewhat by turning the Uncle’s line into the much more informative “You must rescue Princess Zelda. Our people are fated to.” That new line appeared to make it clear that the original confusion was the result of a questionable translation and old-fashioned speculation.

Still, some fans insist that it’s possible the Link to the Past writers knew exactly what they were doing. While it’s a very, very loose theory, it’s not technically impossible that the writers were inspired by the manga interpretation of these characters and decided to at least leave the door open for the possibility that Link and Zelda are brother and sister. Still, we have no way of knowing if that was actually the case, and most of what happens next makes it seem highly unlikely that Nintendo seriously considered officially making Link and Zelda brother and sister in that, or any other, timeline.

Ocarina of Time Is Sometimes Cited as The Most Likely Instance of Zelda and Link Being Brother and Sister

While A Link to the Past is the most commonly cited piece of “evidence” in the Link/Zelda sibling relationship debate, it’s very much worth noting that Ocarina of Time comes the closest to embracing that idea (at least in the minds of many fans).

Simply put, there are several moments during Ocarina of Time’s ambiguous story that at least hint at the possibility that game’s version of Link and Zelda are separated siblings. For instance, we know that Link’s mother delivers him to the Deku tree when he was just a baby in order to save him from the horrors of an ongoing war. She died shortly thereafter. Because we also never see Zelda’s mother in that game (or hear much about her), it’s been suggested that Link’s mother could have been the queen of Hyrule.

Later in the game when Zelda and Link meet, Zelda has a line about how Link seems so familiar to her. On top of that, one of the Composer Brothers mentioned how Link reminds him of Zelda. That last line also touches on the fact that Zelda and Link were clearly designed to look very similar in that installment. Put it all together, and you certainly start to see how fans could jump to the conclusion that the two were separated at (or near) birth.

Those who support the theory that the version of Link and Zelda in Ocarina of Time could be related often clash with those who suggest that Ocarina of Time was the game that actually strongly suggested that the two ended up in a romantic relationship. Those two ideas aren’t necessarily independent of each other (as Game of Thrones proved), but they represent the two most popular interpretations of the characters’ relationships in the revolutionary N64 game. 

The fact of the matter is that the events of Ocarina of Time are open to a fair amount of speculation. Whether intentional or not, there are a lot of questions that this game doesn’t explicitly answer. You could play this game with the idea in your head that Link and Zelda are separated siblings, and the events of the game alone won’t necessarily shatter your perception of their relationship. 

Having said that, the evolution of the Zelda franchise’s storyline beyond this point strongly suggests that the idea that Zelda and Link are brother and sister in Ocarina of Time wasn’t intended to be as aggressively implied as some believe it was.

Read more

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Skyward Sword (the First Game in the Zelda Timeline) Established a Clear Romantic Relationship Between Zelda and Link

I’m willing to bet that the idea of Link and Zelda being related is most often immediately dismissed by those who assume that the two are eternally locked in a romantic relationship. Well, the truth of the matter is that kind of relationship is rarely forced into the Zelda games. Romance is sometimes implied, it’s sometimes denied, and it’s sometimes loosely stated, but few Zelda games are outright love stories. 

Interestingly, one glaring exception to that rule is the first game in the Zelda timeline: Skyward Sword. While it’s not the first game to suggests that Zelda and Link have a romantic relationship, it is the game that tells the clearest love story between the two in the history of the franchise.

With that information available, the question becomes “What does that tell us about Link and Zelda’s relationship in the rest of the series?” Well, considering that the Zelda timeline is one of the most confusing in all of gaming, the fact of the matter is that it’s difficult to say for sure. You also have to remember that the Zelda chronological timeline does not match the release order of the games themselves. That means that there could have been a time when Nintendo was open to the possibility of Link and Zelda being siblings or at least wanted to leave the idea open to interpretation. 

Having said that, the fact the two major Zelda games that precede Ocarina of Time (Skyward Sword and The Minish Cap) are also two of the games that emphasize the Zelda/Link love story the most would seem to imply that Nintendo eventually decided to really drive home the idea that the earliest versions of Link and Zelda were romantically connected on some level. The latter game implied more of a childhood romance but it was a romance nonetheless.

There are two ways you can interpret the Zelda/Link relationship we see in early games. The first suggests that future versions of Link and Zelda could be directly descended from the Skyward Sword couple. However, that interpretation requires a lot of leaps in logic in regards to what we actually do know about each character’s (largely separate) bloodlines and their roles in the grander lore of that universe. While the various Zeldas over the years are related by blood, only some versions of Link are directly related in such a traditional way.

It’s much more likely that Nintendo eventually decided to formally shut down the brother and sister talk by thematically introducing early examples of the Link and Zelda relationship which don’t necessarily lend themselves to that interpretation. 

Zelda Does Have A Brother, But He’s Rarely Mentioned

Link and Zelda’s families are rarely mentioned in any of the games (which is honestly a big part of the reason the “siblings” speculation exists), but there has been at least one notable reference to Zelda’s brother in the past. 

In Zelda II: The Adventure of Link a passing reference is made to Zelda’s brother: The Prince of Hyrule. It’s suggested in supplementary material that Zelda’s brother was either corrupted or possessed by a magician who eventually puts Zelda in the enchanted sleep we find her in at the start of the game. 

It’s not entirely clear what ultimately happens to the Prince of Hyrule, but that is really the only time that one of Zelda’s siblings is clearly featured (or at least referenced) in one of the Legend of Zelda games. Make of this information what you will, but Adventure of Link is one of the last games in the Zelda timeline. Then again, it may be more important to consider that Adventure of Link was always kind of an odd entry into the series. It influenced future games in the series in some ways, but it’s largely considered to be something of an anomaly across the board.

In the same way that many of Zelda 2’s gameplay ideas were abandoned by later games in the series, it’s entirely possible that Nintendo just never really liked the idea of Zelda having a brother or never felt the need to bring it up in any earlier games in the timeline. Then again, others argue that the implication that Zelda and Link are related in A Link to the Past and Ocarina of Time (the next two major Zelda games for Nintendo consoles) suggests that Nintendo was interested in preserving that idea or were at least still playing with it.

So are Zelda and Link Really Siblings? 

When you’re talking about The Legend of Zelda‘s various timelines, alternate timelines, and mythological mysteries, it’s hard to get a straight answer on anything. That being the case, there’s always at least a small possibility that Zelda and Link are related either directly or distantly in at least some of the games.

Having said that, so much of the evidence that sibling theory relies on is circumstantial and dependant on ideas introduced before Nintendo seemed especially concerned with the grander Zelda mythology. Granted, some would argue that Nintendo has never really cared about Zelda’s mythology and timeline, but it’s been made clear over the years that early Zelda games weren’t exactly designed to serve as the basis of some grand story Nintendo planned out years in advance. 

That being the case, the most likely answer to that question is that if Nintendo ever intended for Zelda and Link to be brother and sister, they probably changed their minds at some point. Another possible explanation suggests that they looked at the interpretations fans developed in response to Ocarina of Time’s ambiguous plot points and decided to more clearly define the Zelda and Link relationships in future games. 

Ultimately, though, Nintendo has never explicitly stated that Zelda and Link are brother and sister and the only instances where that idea has been explicitly stated in Zelda media are considered to be non-canonical.

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The more important point to keep in mind is that Zelda and Link are often destined to meet each other in every timeline regardless of the circumstances. The nature of their romantic or blood relationship has always been second to the idea that they’re tied together by destiny and powers that go beyond comparatively traditional relationships. 

The post The Legend of Zelda: Are Zelda and Link Really Brother and Sister? appeared first on Den of Geek.

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

[veinereastath]

hi there again (I'm the anon from the Eredin age ask, btw, thank you for the answer!! I like your theory). i wanted to ask one more thing - how did you play around with pairing aen elle with a human? not that I have something against it, hell naw, but I'm wondering whether making Rhan a human was somehow important for your plot, or did you just decide it for no bigger reason?

I like your questions, Nonny! I really do~

~ Also, sorry in advance - this is a long answer. I wanted to make it short, but.. I guess I usually go to far with asks, probably because I’m just too excited, duh.

Okay, first things first - pairing Aen Elle with a human is sick. :”) To some extent, I presume. I would never go for it if not for the canon Lara Dorren x Cregennan of Lod story, because that gives some mild suggestion that, technically, such a relationship is possible. Even more interesting, the romance between them was more bothering for humans than elves, so it’s also a little point for my evil little abomination that I created.

About how it started - I created Rhan (or, actually, loose concept of her) in late 2015 / early 2016 [I started my journey with this universe in September 2015 where I played Witcher 3, and after finishing it I swallowed the whole saga by Sapkowski in less than two weeks]. Fun fact - she was an elf at this point, Aen Elle, actually, with a totally different backstory than what we have now. But me, being me, always digging human x elf / demon / whatever the hell you can come out with relationships - it wouldn’t work, it was too boring for me, so I scrapped that early concept and started nibbling, slowly and lazily, at something new. I think that the first ideas that are actually what Rhan is today started appearing in my head during summer vacations in 2016 (gosh, why am I giving so many pointless details, sorry anon).

Let’s get back on the grid - the main problem I have with Eredin is that he’s one of that characters that doesn’t have much screenbooktime. The whole Tir na Lia plot takes about 40 pages I think, and Eredin has maybe 15 pages in total. It’s not much when we have 5 books + about a dozen or so smaller stories [and Season of Storms, but it came out much, much later]. But what I could pick up was that:

Aen Elle are a fucked up race, and that’s a fact, but, honestly  - 90% of the Witcher universe is either genocidal, racist, or both, or worse,

Eredin is genocidal and racist, and, even more... complicating, the whole "Ciri in Tir na Lia” plot puts Eredin, Avallac’h and Auberon in position of rapists, because putting a woman in someone else’s bed without her permission is rape,

he’s that lovely, dark and highly intelligent manipulative type. :”)

It’s quite a feat, because everyday I get around 3-4 new little ideas for their story, but only 1 at best makes it to the “next step”, because there are many things I have to consider - first is, 98% of soft and fluffly things just won’t work with Eredin. They just won’t, but somehow I’m fine with that, I was never a fluffly-tropes kind of person. Second is, Rhan x Eredin relationship is difficult on every level: the race difference is obvious, but there is also age, for example, and all the time I have this little devil in the back of my head reminding me of the “the old, kinda supernatural being falls in love with a young woman” trope: *cough* Twilight *cough*. The worst thing that could happen is making Eredin OOC somehow. But that’s always the biggest fear when shipping OC x canon, I presume.

So, in order to make myself feel better, in nearly every piece of story with them I write I put that huge doubt, mostly on Rhan’s side, how the hell this could work and her little panic when after some time she realizes where her feelings are going, because while Aen Elle x human might have indeed a chance of happening again, even after Lara Dorren x Cregennan, it’s still wrong on nearly every level. When that Aen Elle is Eredin, it’s even worse.

The very definition of “falling in love” itself also kinda feels weird when Eredin is taken into consideration, imo, so that’s another thing I have to live with every day (but hey, I love suffering, so it’s all good, right).

Moving on - I decided that if this is supposed to work, Rhan should probably be as most non-human human as I can, while still somehow keeping that “humanity” in her, because... If I wanted to de-human her entirely, why not just make her an elf and be done with it? That’s why I decided that while yes, she was born on Skellige and is 100% human, I will put her in Brokilon, make her live and learn from the dryads, and then put her right in the middle of Scoia’tael to give her the deep understanding of elven culture and way of life. The final effect is that while Rhan is human in terms of how she looks like (no diamond-cutting cheekbones in her, baby~) and tends to show a more fiery side of her temperament here and there, she behaves like an elf in about 85% of the case - to make it more “real” I added small headcanon things that could potentially fit elves, at least Aen Seidhe, the way the greet each other, thank eatch other for help, share their emotions etc., so after just a few days Eredin realizes “well, she’s human, but she does not behave like one, and does not move or fight like one”. It’s barely a deal for him at this point, but it’s the first, microscopic step towards moving their relationship onto some normal ground.

Another thing - this relationship could not happen fast. While Rhan is a sorceress and, indeed, has an increased lifespan thanks to magic, she is still a human and the biggest human thing in her is that she perceives time like humans do - every minute, hour, week is important to her, while Aen Elle can wait decades and not be too much bothered by it. So something long and lazy from Rhan’s perspective would be a blink of an eye for Eredin, especially since I stick to that headcanon that he must be at least 300 years old - at this age elves are pretty much done with everything, they’ve seen nearly everything, and they just don’t care that much about time, and they get quite bored with each other (sex-wise, as Avallac'h said to Geralt in Tower of The Swallow).

Though, on the side note, the books heavily suggest that Eredin is, indeed, impatient; something that kinda costed the Aen Elle losing the Elder Blood and Auberon at the same time, because he would probably live if not for Eredin’s hasty attempt to speed things up.

Huh, what else could I say... Ah, right, time. I wanted to mention that I made their relationship take a long time to just go from “you’re just a trophy” to “you’re tolerable” to “alright, I consider you to be a living being and slightly appreciate what you’re doing to Aen Seidhe elves in your world” to “I respect you” to “I would not die for you, but I would kill for you”. I’m still not entirely sure how much time I want it to take, but one decade is an absolute bare fricking minimum. Recently I’m kind of going more into putting it into a span of 20-25 years, actually. And it’s still not that much for Aen Elle elf.

What else... Ah, to figure out how the hell would Eredin even consider taking her alive, instead of killing her on the spot after she got trapped in Tir na Lia for the second time (in case you don’t know - I gave Rhan a highly unstable magic; she can’t create portals, because they always throw her to the place that is full of powerful magic, and doesn’t care for worlds barriers - and Tir na Lia is literally full of it), I went with the very long and tiring chase sequence; Rhan was able to run away for 5 days before she got captured, with barely any sleep available at that time, to kinda give this whole thing a vibe of an exciting (for Eredin, that is) chase, that is something new and interesting after the routine that is unicorn hunting / raiding human villages. The Raven Haired Bastard managed to be slightly, just sliiightly impressed by how long she was able to play this game, slipping from his riders by mere inches. Slightly. But that’s already some kind of a start to make it at least somehow believable. At least for my mind and my imagination.

And yes, I know he chased Ciri as well, but in her case it was a matter of life and death, because Eredin needed her blood, it was a matter of survival of the whole race, not chase for fun. In case of Rhan, it's more of a free-time challenge, a hunt for a difficult, but not that important prey. Aaand I don't like Cirilla, but that's another thing, yikes

... God, it was not supposed to be this long, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t make it shorter. And there are still probably things that I would like to mention, but just can’t think about them right now.

 

Moral of the story is - I dig complicated, dark and difficult relationships. I always go for them. Well, in 99% of the case.

#long post alert #sorry in advance #but THANK you for this ask #I live for answering questions about my OCs #Rhan an Undvik #Rhan x Eredin #Anonymous

[vohalika]

hello, this is random but.. could u please tell me some of your fav things about vex? i don't often see people who Really Like Vex and we need more of that

Well, well, well, anon.

I have literally no idea how long it has been since you asked this of me, but rest assured I have not forgotten! Well, okay, I had for a while, then I saw it again and was like “oh, right, huh… And would you look at that, I’m about 100 posts away from 100,000… Wouldn’t that be a good one…”

So. Here we are! An unstructured rambling of all the reasons I really, really love Vex, somewhere between superficial and embarrasingly personal, to celebrate this arbitrary number of things I have spread around on this hell site.

Okay, first of all, the only thing Laura had to say to Kit Buss for the official art was “make her hot”. That is a Statement. And boy did Kit and also everyone deliver on that.

Like seriously. I didn’t use to be a fan of feathers in hair or white armor, but good god does she make it work.

Hey, I said this was going to be extremely superficial

Another thing I really didn’t use to like, twins. Overdone and usually poorly executed. But our girl made a Point out of being as different from her twin as she could be while at the same time being completely believable siblings.

I swear to god I’ll do my absolute best to mention Vax as little as possible. This is not about him.

Third thing I really couldn’t stand! The one, usually female, team member with a pet! Closely related to the one with the nature powers! I don’t know, these just always rubbed me the wrong way in media before, probably because I also never really cared for shows or movies about animals. Fight me.

And yet here she is, and she is not the “won’t somebody think of the children animals!” type of gal and Trinket is amazing and it still ties into her personality on a larger scale without being preachy.

I have a fourth thing. I also really don’t care for elves, ever. Everybody hates them. And then she turns around and makes me cry about the elf thing. Good god.

Yes, watching the first episode way back when was an uphill battle. There’s a reason I started with episode 69 and then watched the rest.

Nice.

Vex has the best worst sense of humor. No, really. I’m not even talking about that time she made a comment about the boy with the shot off fingers not having much of a future as a musician. But I’m also talking about that. And that time Scanlan tried having a meaningful monologue about having a daughter now. “I’ve defined most of my life by the people I slept with, and now…” - “Well, technically, this is still kinda defined by that.”

(Shoutout to Percy “I was just thinking that”)

Also, “We don’t do anything with dignity”, “I only serve gods with big dicks”, “You might live forever, but you will still be fucking ugly”? Girl is iconic, even if her sense if humor is usually pretty inappropriate for the given situation, she just can’t help it. I relate.

On a related note, it is so easy to play a similar archetype and have her just be this always dignified and above the humor kind of stuck-up. It’s basically how most people would have written her (and a certain someone did). But not our girl, oh no.

Also, I recently made a post about this, but we really, really don’t talk enough about how she’s just the leader of the party. She is. No, really, lower your bitch sticks, y’all. She’s the one to talk to the most NPCs, she’s the one to usually say go, and everyone just naturally adheres to her. It’s never forced, it’s never an “I, as the leader” moment, and she doesn’t try to wrestle her way into the role. It’s just what happens naturally.

Which also means she’s good at stepping back and letting other people shine for a bit. But still, Vex is the reason they didn’t just flounder around like a chicken without its head after Scanlan left. Laura was late to two sessions in campaign one; the first one was already in an extended battle scene, and the other was literally spent in a bedroom in hell waitinig for Vex to tell them what to do.

This is why scholars are generally of the opinion that Vex is the only Top in VM. And also what intellectuals refer to as Big Dick Energy.

Let’s talk about what the assholes call Greed. Yes, Vex is, out of all of them, the most pre-occupied with gold and loot. But she NEVER hoards anything for herself, never spends any of her own gold on herself even until the timeskip, leave alone the party funds.

She looks out for the interests of the group, makes sure they get the best possible deals and are paid what they are owed. And she’s the only one to ever worry about money, too, whereas everyone else never bothers to think about it. Hence why her and Vax split the cost of paying their staff after the party spent all the funds early on.

Look, I find her worries very indicative of growing up in poverty with her mom, than surrounded by rich and important people but locked out of the loop, and then poor and on the road again with Vax. I find it very relatable, and everyone who claims that looking out for the financial well-being of the party is “greedy” is lucky enough to never have had to worry about eating next month while also making rent.

There’s Safety In A Fist Full Of Diamonds, okay?

No really I need y’all to read that and send it to the annoying bitches who complain.

Vex is literally never stingy when it comes to helping people with the money she made sure they have. Remember how she didn’t even flinch at spending a five digit number to free angel boy slaves?

WHICH LEADS ME TO ANOTHER POINT. Vex. Vex has a serious hoarding problem. But not when it comes to money of earthly possessions. No. When it comes to PICKING UP STRAYS.

It’s how she got Trinket.

It’s how she got the angel babies.

It’s what she tries to do with the grey render baby.

It’s what she suggested they do with the dragon eggs in the Raishan fight

(LET! VEX! HAVE! PET! DRAGONS!)

IT HOW SHE GOT HER OWN GODDAMN HUSBAND OKAY.

I have no idea how she hasn’t adopted her own zoo by the time VM forms. Though I can totally see her opening orphanages in Whitestone, both for people and animals and creatures of all kinds, really.

Remember when she was the only one to protest the punching of a spectral ghost cow?

The hardships of her youth made her, yes, very afraid of being out of money, but also made her compassionate as fuck. She’s always down with helping people even if there’s little to no coin in it, okay? Stop overlooking that, assholes.

SPEAKING OF COMPASSION. Remember what her original beef with the Vasselheim potion seller was? That he took advantage of Grog being intellectually challenged. Which is what he did! Blatantly so! And he wasn’t the least bit sorry about it!

I mean, I bet he is by now, but, you know. Karma.

When Laura says Vex just wanted justice and then everyone else escalated that scene she is goddamn right, rewatch your own footage Matthew.

Oh god do I have to talk about broomgate now. I don’t want to talk about broomgate.

OKAY

Broomgate is literally the only time in the entire series that Vex ever takes something for herself. Was it the morally right thing to do? Maybe not. Though to keep in mind that a) Hardwick is a piece of shit, b) they literally met Gern when he had the skeletons of Kiki’s dead civilization dancing for him; Vax shanked Nothics for less, c) and this was hot off the heels of fighting a necromancer in the last big arc, too, d) they were on a mission to kill dragons. That fly. With no method of flying for the majority of the party. Vex always intended to use the broom for that purpose, so you could make the legal argument of commandeering it instead of stealing, and, finally, e) SHE HAD JUST FUCKING DIED

Why do we never talk about that

Other characters get cut all the slack for what they do after just dying

Other characters get cut all the slack when they steal from other guests

Other characters get cut all the slack when they withhold loot for the party

Other characters DIDN’T GET AN ALIGNMENT DROP FOR DOING WORSE SHIT THAN THIS

WHY ARE WE STILL TALKING ABOUT BROOMGATE

WHY WAS BROOMGATE EVER EVEN A THING

okay

okay

MOVING ON

Hey, while we’re at dying. Remember how Vex spent the day after she, literally, died, trying to make sure the person who was to blame for her death was okay? She did that. And Percy was uncomfortable with it, visibly so, but also too guilty to call her out here.

And no one. NO ONE. EVER. Bothered to check in on how she felt after dying.

Vax made it all about the sacrifice he made, Percy felt too guilty, NO ONE ELSE CARED.

And what does she do? Soldier on. Try and cheer Vax up and support him in any way she can.

Honestly, learning the Raven Queen book by heart and then telling him that being the champion of a god is really fucking cool? Relatable. Relatable as fuck. You go girl.

And TO THIS DAY. ACROSS TWO CAMPAIGNS. Vex has been the only one. THE ONLY ONE. To EVER check up on someone after they died. Jester might eventually be the second one, but, you know. I am a big advocate for post-death and just post-big-battle-in-general aftercare cuddle piles or whatever. Someone tell the cast to implement that immediately.

And while we’re at death, let’s talk about THE DARKNESS

There are dark facets to her character. Vex never makes her own issues everyone else’s problem and they go largely unadressed, but they’re there.

Saundor brought up the story about how she got Trinket and had to kill for the first time while doing so.

(Sidenote: Saundor doing more research into her character than an actual writer is extremely telling.)

That was definitely traumatic for a young girl and I don’t mean to dismiss that, but that’s also the part I can understand Vax dismissing when they talk about it later on. They do kill a lot of people after that and this was self-defense, so hey, okay. Fine.

HOWEVER

That short story was indicative of many other things that torment Vex. Mostly her low sense of self-worth.

Like, her entire inner monologue is centered around how stupid she was for getting into this situation in the first place (= for being taken advantage of by criminals at the tender age of probably like 15), and how this would never have happened to Vax, who was away in the city to take care of them.

And we see that low sense of self-worth bleeding into Vex’s character throughout the campaign. That’s part of the reason why she spends the day after her first death making sure everyone else is okay. That’s also part of the reason she blames herself for Scanlan leaving and acts like she’s completely fine when he returns just so he’ll stay.

Honestly that short story is so insightful and explains so much about her, I don’t know how anyone could claim to have any grasp on her character without reading it.

(Also, Laura should write more, she’s talented)

Now a significant part of her self-worth issues obviously also ties back into her time at Syngorn. I can just hear people getting out their tiny violins, oh, waaah, she wasn’t one of the rich, cool kids in elf school, poor her.

But that’s not entirely it?

Like, just that is already plenty to fuck a person up. I’ve been there, too.

But let’s just say the fact that her dad was also cold towards them and acted like they were unworthy is a BIG part of what fucked her up. Call it daddy issues if you feel like being dismissive about a genuinely traumatizing upbringing, but that’s how it is.

And don’t get me wrong, if this were the traumatic childhood olympics, it’s not exactly up there and relatively tame for the background of a character in a fantasy story, but it is very true to life and extremely relatable, and Laura just executes it so well. So, so well.

That’s part of what makes the entire stretch of Feywild episodes so great. From what we see of Vax’s reaction later on, Percy is the only person she ever talked to about this - or at least the only one who ever listened - and he immediately got it. And instead of yelling at her about how amazing she is, he did something to make her feel better about herself. Without making it about himself, by the way.

I enjoy a fake married plotline as much as the next gal, but Percy giving her a title she’d have to earn by her own merits is soooo much more meaningful than just putting a fake ring on her, okay?

Yes, at the end of the day, this is basically a Cinderella fantasy. So what? No, really. One of the best things about Vex and her arc is that it validates feeling upset about not measuring up in superficial, material ways. And it validates getting your come-uppance. These are, as mentioned above, experiences that can really mess with a person, but we’re usually supposed to be above it all because money and titles don’t make you happy.

Also something only people who never struggled financially can say/believe unironically and without specifying.

Hell, that’s about 70% of the reason I’m considering getting a Ph.D. if I happen to get the grades.

I’m also not a big fan of the term daddy issues, but I can’t deny that this is a thing here

not the thing they went into the Feywild for, buuuut

ahem

So. Remember when Laura said during the campaign wrap up that Vex thought of Scanlan as a father figure and everyone was like whaaaaat? And I was like ahahahaha, I knew it.

This is so tragic, really. Because she tried so hard so many times to help Scanlan and be nice to him and he just brushed her off. And then she’s the one who volunteers to spend the night all by herself in some dirty pub far, far away after opening up to his daughter about her own issues to bring him back alive, and then gets yelled at, and never apologized to.

And then he comes back and tries to erase her memory and not only is that never even brought up, she also just doesn’t even think she might be owed an apology because a) she still blames herself for him leaving because, you know, they never really talked out what happened there and b) she’s just too happy for at least that father figure returning to them to make much of a fuss about it, and Percy, bless his heart, TRIES, but it’ll take a few more years of marriage to talk through all of her issues

And like. I am not wild about anything that happens after episode 99. If I’m known for anything in this fandom on this platform it’s probably for that time I was really into the Ioun discourse, which I still stand by, btw. And I personally would have preferred for Vex to maybe get someone like Sehanine as her patron, as fitting as giving her yet another unworthy and disapproving father figure in her life might be

But there is also something somewhat gratifying about everyone talking about how great she is. And she had been sort of working for Pelor before that. Also, the headcanons about her having sun spots or starting to glow when she gets emotional after this are amazing.

So I made my peace with that. She deserves better, but hey, she always does.

She is so smart. So extremely smart. People roll their eyes at her battle plans and say it’s all Travis feeding Laura information, but Travis fed her nothing that time she schmoozed up to the Briarwoods while also making herself appear extremely superficial and unthreatening. Honestly. That dinner scene? Prime Vex. Amazing Vex.

Her battle plans are also so good. Pokeball-ing Grog out of the kill box? Using the Goristro against Vorugal to save the party a trip into the abyss? The only plan of Vox Machina that ever worked out basically perfectly? Amazing. And even IF Travis told Laura these ideas, that means literally nothing in relation to how smart Vex is.

And btw I don’t believe that for a second. People just aren’t good with acknowledging that sometimes, D&D playing women might actually have good ideas.

And she just is so street smart. With her skills, her battle plans, and just her way of handling people. There’s a reason she is the natural leader when it’s not someone’s turn in the spotlight at the time.

Like, the two things holding her back were that her class was extremely underwhelming, so much so that it got completely revamped in the Unearthed Arcana to make up for how bad it was in the PHB, and the fact that she just. Has, what. 1.5 episodes of her own storyline? Even Pike got 2. It’s amazing that I can even say this much about her with how little narrative focus she got throughout the series. And most of what she did was literally due to Percy using his plot clout and putting a foot in the door to force her into the spotlight.

Speaking of which. Percy’s best quality, next to being self-aware of how fucked up he is and actively trying to do better and be kept in check, is how he realizes Vex is the coolest, smartest, most amazing person around and treats her accordingly. The way she deserves to be treated.

Oh hey I mentioned to get this far without even mentioning the romance arc. And oh my god THE ROMANCE ARC. The pining. The slow burn. And the fact that we actually saw them together and later married for like 35 episodes. They were so good for each other.

And yes, PERCY WAS GOOD FOR HER. And Vex was not his therapist and manic pixie dream girl. None of that bullshit here. Percy was already firmly on the path to being better before he even considered that crush he has had on her for forever to turn into something more.

And by he was good for her I mean that he actually UNDERSTOOD her and where she was coming from. Refer again to the titling issue, where Vax is just confused and kind of pissed, Percy got it. And that’s important.

Something I have not made a post about so far, by the way, is also something people have called problematic and co-dependant is how Percy shares his darker impulses with Vex in hopes she’ll talk him out of it. Which she does, and it’s never hard, but that also means so much to her? Because he involves her and tells her exactly what is going on with him and values her opinion? And that is just exactly what she needs? And they’re so good? THEY’RE SO GOOD.

WHEN DOES YOUR OTP EVER

HE COULDN’T HAVE ASKED FOR A BETTER DREAM

This is more on Laura, admittedly, but also, it was just so great to see her unapologetically pursuing this romance? There’s a place at the table for a 72 episode slow burn, and she’s gonna go for it, and there’s nothing any of the dudebros who are just here for the fighting can do about it.

And also Vex is just so unapologetically sexual at the same time. From episode 1 onwards, really, and in general and just limited to Percy. And no one ever treats that as weird or bad or anything. It’s just who she is and that’s great.

And she fought. So hard. For that happy ending of hers. Kicking and screaming, against the world and against Taliesin’s determination that Percy is irredeemable and not capable of getting a happy ending. Defy that auctorial intent, my girl. You deserve it.

Seriously. Seeing her get that happy ending against all odds was unfathomably gratifying and validating and I’ve never connected to any single character or narrative at large for that matter this much and this intimately, and considering how I came across this story at one of the darkest times in my life, I probably never will feel so strongly connected to anything ever again.

Which is probably for the best, but hey. 

Aaaand there you go. An almost unstructured, epically long list of reasons I love Vex. Dammit, I talked about other characters way more than I intended, buuuut hey. That’s how it goes when you’ve got an ensemble piece, they’re all kinda interwoven.

Thank you this wonderful ask, anon, and reason to celebrate my 100,000th post on this site in style.

#critical role #cr #cr1 #vex'ahlia #lady vex'ahlia de rolo #is better than you #deserved better from the narrative #will forever be my favorite character probably #will forever be part of my ultimate OTP #we do not deserve her #we are unworthy #long post #long post for ts

[bekahdoesnerdshit]

cog! indifference because I feel like that’s not a very cog thing she tends to feel. also: disgust! enthusiasm! raini: panic! mischief! ............ lust??? for auriga: frustration... excitement... boredom! ayen: anxiety, confusion!

Already answered disgust and enthusiasm for Cog, and mischief for Raini! Great minds, great minds, the group chat shares one braincell, etc. etc. 

Cog

Indifference: I think Cog struggles to process and express a lot of negative emotions, because she’s made such a conscious choice to repress put them out of her mind in pursuit of positivity. But she can get angry! She can get snippy because she’s stressed and hasn’t slept enough! But even then, even though the emotion is negative, at least she’s feeling and doing something. She’s taking a stand! She’s acting in defense of something she believes in! Indifference, though? It’s passive, it’s an inaction, it’s giving up. She has a bleeding heart, she isn’t capable of just turning that off and deciding she doesn’t care. If Cog gets to the point of indifference, it’s because she’s physically and emotionally exhausted. There’s too many morally gray choices she’s being forced to make, and there’s never a “right” answer, and everything she does hurts someone who doesn’t deserve it. Cog’s indifference is head down, shoulders hunched, tired eyes and still, folded hands. It’s pulling back from the conversation around her and letting the rest of the party decide the right course of action instead of weighing in and trying to steer them toward a more morally upstanding decision. She’s tired, and there’s no time to rest, and there’s no objective “good” to push toward. What does it matter what decision they make in the face of that? 

Raini

Panic: Flighty! If I had to pick one word- which I do not because as yesterday’s ask proved I have never in my life heard of “brevity”- panicked Raini is flighty. Whether that just means skittish in the moment, moving quickly from spot to spot as things Spook her, or if that means leaving the situation entirely with a Dimension Door or Teleport, she is not going to stay in one place very long at all. Her movements when she talks get a lot more jerky and abrupt, and she loses most of her intentionally cultivated air of aloofness evaporates. I don’t think it comes to this very often! I think it takes a lot to rattle Raini to the point of panic. But, you know, again. Sometimes you kill the goddess of magic, or whatever. Sometimes you’re staring down the barrel of an attack you know you won’t survive, and you have enough time to whip around to face your party with wide eyes before the blade of a sword that’s nearly as long as you are tall sinks home in your stomach, and you have just a second to panic because. What if this is the end? Are the others going to try to help you? Why would they? They don’t have to! I think, of just about every emotion, panic is the one Raini hates the most. You’re helpless, it means you’ve lost your head, and you’re just grossly out of control of the situation. Pass! Hard fucking pass!!! Lust: You just want to know how she acts when Ecstasy is visiting and that’s Fair but you have to own it.  Raini who’s trying to Get some is honestly like. Essentially unrecognizable. Y’all know that “oh, with the horns!! you’re so funny!” text post? But like, for real. And maybe 40% sarcastic? She’s SO more touchy than she usually is, especially on the bicep or upper thigh if they’re sitting down. Lots of lip biting, lots of stolen glances through eyelashes, and honestly? I think she’s very much the type of person to just circle while she flirts. We’re playing coy a little, but we’re also moving a little closer on each pass, so read into that what you will. Also! It’s definitely a competition to her, in a weird way? Like she’s super pale, so any amount of blushing shows up super clearly, but she will Not acknowledge it because that is losing. Somehow. Even though we all know how the night ends anyway. And while there are no losers when it comes to having sex with someone who is very hot very sensual very sexy, Raini does Not generally get to maintain her pride to the extent she would like to those nights. Is that too much information? Maybe so! But you asked, So! (Also again I Know this is non-verbal BUT such a big part of Raini flirting is banter. What’s the point of spending time on someone who already can’t keep up with you outside the bedroom?)

Auriga

Frustration: I think, in an incredibly ambitious and unprecedented move, I have finally created a character who is a wellspring of patience. He’s an elf, a cleric, a ruler, and a middle child. Technically. He has a fuse, because everybody does, but it’s probably literally about a mile long. But like, as a result? When it’s done, he’s done. He finally gets fed up trying to explain something to someone? Well, that’s it. His expression is still placid and pleasant, because he was Raised Well, but he’s written them off entirely. Too stupid to make understand, to slow to bother with. He’s had too much of a frustrating situation? It’s hopeless. There’s nothing to be done about it. Someone else is going to have to take care of it. He pulls back entirely behind manners and decorum, smiles politely but coldly, and excuses himself from the situation as soon as is respectable. Excitement: Aww this was so sweet to think about. Generally, Auriga is a pretty reserved person! The centuries of High Expectations (and a seven charisma) will do that to you! Can’t put your foot in your mouth if you don’t open it in the first place! But when he’s excited, he lights up. You get a real, not practiced smile, and soft touches on your forearm or shoulder. Still respectable!! But small, fleeting moments of intimacy, urging the other person to be as excited as he is about what is, in fairness, probably some pretty lame shit. I think he’s also very likely to default to drawing pictures to explain whatever he’s talking about so that the other person can see exactly what he means. Someone who engages and asks the right questions can absolutely get him to talk for hours about a given topic, when before that they may have heard barely a handful of words from him. Boredom: I’m making this character choice now and I may come to regret it when we start to actually play but I don’t care: Auriga’s default when he’s bored is to start to doze off. Like, has he had a lot of practice sitting in council meetings for long hours, debating circles around the same topic without making much, if any, progress? Sure! But that’s, bless him, something he finds interesting. Somehow. If it’s something he has absolutely zero interest in though (like, for example, a stuffy, boring play he’s obligated to attend out of professional courtesy? hypothetically) I think he’ll try to focus for a while? Because he was raised right, he has manners. But eventually his chin finds its way to his palm, and his eyes start to droop, and idk if mechanically elves can sleep and just don’t or if he’s just trancing in the middle of a public place (which I guess would be less conspicuous, technically?) but our boy is No Longer Paying Attention. 

Ayen

Anxiety: Anxious Ayen is fidgety. Bounce the leg! Continually summon and dismiss various small hexblade weapons! Open your hand, close it around the handle of a dagger. Open it agin and let the dagger disappear in a puff of smoke, close it again around a weird crooked sickle. Open your hand and let the sickle disappear, close it again around-- And so on, and so forth. I think she gets worked up really easily when she’s anxious, gets kinda jumpy, and is definitely ready to shoot off at a moment’s notice to go do whatever there is to do that will get rid of or distract from her anxiety.  (Also I know the original prompt was ‘non-verbal’ but it’s important to me that you know that she for sure talks to herself when she’s anxious, like. “Okay Ayen, you got this. We have no clue what the Fuck is going on, but we’re gonna pull it together and take it the fuck out. Alright? Alright.”) Confusion: Ayen is that classmate you sit next to in like some fuckoff high level math class, and the professor is talking and you realize you have No idea what they’re talking about? And you look over at Ayen to see if she can clarify anything, and she’s already writing “bro idfk” on the corner of her notes for you to read. If Ayen’s confused she’s gonna default to thinking it’s funny, because like. Can’t look stupid if you’ve decided the stuff you don’t understand is stupid first! So she’ll laugh, and shrug real big, and make a show of not caring what’s going on, because that saves face. That’s dumbshit nerd stuff, she is Way too cool for that.

#cog #wasteland campaign #rainivere #amnesia campaign #ayen morwraek #creepy campaign #the camplane #celebreultimaverba #His Royal Highness‚ Auriga the Silvertouched‚ Prince of the Feywild‚ Third Heir of the Stars‚ The Twice Reborn‚ Conservator of Stories‚ The #also tbh all my Auriga shit should come with an asterisk because. bro all this stuff is theoretical until i play him for a Hot minute #idk about you guys I Cannot fill out the personality part of character sheets until three or four good sessions in #so we'll see if any of this sticks!!!

[beautifulterriblequeen]

Dragon King v. Aaravos (year unknown)

@klashta-neali‘s post asking, Has Aaravos really been in the mirror for 1000 years? got me thinking and I went digging in the show to see what it actually tells us, because if there’s one thing this show does well, it’s mislead us. 

Let’s start with the prologue--and keep in mind, every word of the prologue is given to us by a smartass Star Touch who proudly proclaims that he never lies while absolutely messing around with the truth in every way possible. We are blithely handed this information, but we should not trust it entirely.

Dark magic was discovered 1000 years ago (per TechnicallyNotLying!Aaravos)

Aaravos paints himself with the good guys, working against “the madness.” Not specifically against dark magic, I note. This guy’s wording matters.

This line about driving out the humans may or may not be a restatement of what “put a stop to the madness” means. Was anything else done besides kicking out the humans? Like, say, throwing a certain sparkly boy through the Moon Portal? Dunno yet.

Aaravos kindly showing us a map. Possibly on the table in his library? Depends where and when he’s narrating this from. Clearly, from this angle and from his careful wording, he wants us to see this from his perspective.

(And this is a thing I love about this show. It draws us in by having the characters interact with us almost directly. I’m put in mind of how Runaan binds “our” wrists during the binding ritual, and how he looks right at us later and demands that we give him the egg. We are meant to feel like we are a part of this world.)

Aaravos conveniently doesn’t say who exactly did the dividing of the land, I note. Passive voice is a bitch. Was Aaravos still around? Did he do the split himself? Was he in the mirror already? 

It seems logical that dark magic, the booting of the humans, and the splitting of the land took place in relatively rapid succession, and then we get some passage of time. “Centuries” means anything from 200 years to the full 1000. It’s just Aaravos vaguebooking so we don’t know what happened when. But this is the dragon who had Aaravos’s mirror when Viren came a-knocking.

Aaravos could technically have been locked away at any point in here, or even before the humans were booted out. He gives us no clues. I mean, he doesn’t even tell us he’s locked up. He doesn’t want us to start off thinking he’s a terrible criminal. We might not like him as much if we knew that from the start.

These elves are shown apparently helping to defend the border, since Thunder’s shadow crosses them on its way to attack the humans. Aaravos is not here at this point. Is this the beginning of last winter’s turn? It’s unclear. This could be a timey-wimey shot that generally sums up those several hundred years, or it could be five seconds before winter turned. They’re pretty and all, but I’m missing a bunch of context here.

If this is last winter’s turn, why have they all come together like they’re armed for war? Did they know the humans were coming, and they had enough time to prepare to meet them? And yet, somehow, their combined magical strength was not enough to defeat one human high mage? squints

Either it’s not meant to be taken literally, or there’s way more to this story.

Here, we definitely seem to have an actual event. Thunder fighting off human soldiers.

We don’t get to see how they slew him, but it seems clear from later context that Viren was involved.

And here, we have either a lie or a lack of knowledge. Does Aaravos lie to us about the egg, or does he simply not know its fate? What did he see, if anything, through his mirror the day the Dragon King fell? 

Aaravos doesn’t seem like the type to not know something, what with his skill in divination and all. But unless there’s something else going on here--magical shenaniganry, etc.--he’e possibly straight-up fibbing. Shame, Aaravos.

Okay, there’s Aaravos’s version of events. I love the idea of the whole prologue narration being a story meant to sway us to a certain mindset: Aaravos’s mindset. What does he want us to think? 

I think that he is a friend to humans, in his way, and he wants us to think well of him. He thinks we won’t understand the whole story yet, so he only gives us the parts where he doesn’t make weird scary decisions and make us hate him. I think that, once we’ve seen him in action more, built up a love for him, too, he’ll show us, in careful context, what he did and why. 

This whole show could be a kind of love letter from Aaravos to us. D’aww. You shouldn’t have. But I’ll take it, give me that. swipes it, hugs it to my heart

So, skipping ahead to Viren’s POV, here. He’s talking about finding the mirror in the Dragon King’s lair. It honestly sounds like he pillaged the heck out of it, like some kind of Indiana Jones villain.

And this is where I think so many of us, myself included, cemented the idea that Aaravos had been in the mirror for a thousand years. 

I’m reminded at this point by a post I saw recently that theorized that the orcs of Middle-Earth had no idea that the elvish swords ever turned off their blue glow. They would think that the blades always glowed, because from their perspective, every time they saw one, it was already glowing.

To Viren, the mirror was already in the Dragon king’s lair. Therefore, it may have always been there.

Humans are really good at object permanence. It’s one of our first mental capabilities as infants.

And because Viren is a smart guy, canny, scheming, we believe his perspective. We trust his interpretation. When he muses that the mirror and Aaravos meant something to the Dragon King, that implies that Aaravos, the mirror, and the Dragon King had enough time to develop that meaning.

I gotta say, this one shot caught my attention. The view shifts to Aaravos here, while Viren is still speaking and looking the other way. And look at the way Aaravos smiles. He starts to smile the moment Viren, who can’t see him, says the word “You.” Emphasizes Aaravos above the value of the mirror itself.

Aaravos’s face is neutral until Viren tells him that he, Aaravos, meant something. And Aaravos smiles. Not a smirk. He almost looks fond. As if he and the Dragon King were indeed meaningful on some level, at some time, to each other.

Or perhaps he’s just pleased that Viren is seeing him as a person separate from the mirror as a magical object. Maybe the Dragon King treated him like a Magic 8-Ball.

As Viren turns, though, Aaravos hides his fondness and plays it off with a meaningless not-a-lie. Whatever he felt regarding his connection to the Dragon King, he keeps it to himself. It is not for Viren to know.

It is easy to assume Aaravos has been in the mirror since the humans were cast out of Xadia. The last time we see him out and about is right before that. But there is room for alternate interpretations in this vague and twisty version of events, and I think Aaravos wants it that way. 

There is plenty of circumstantial evidence that would warrant Aaravos getting locked away--the existence of a Moon Portal, the elven-made dark magic staff, the poem, the color of dark magic itself. But there is no proof. And the star (ahaha) witness isn’t talking.

Legally, we can’t convict him. Yet. But there sure does seem to be a preponderance of evidence. Aaravos, you’d better have one good story to tell, my dude. You’re about to get called to the stand.

#aaravos #aaravos theory #tdp #technically not lying aaravos #tdp meta

[magicmastered]

What Universe does Thor: Ragnarok Take Place In? Part Two

I repeat my disclaimer from the last post in this series. If you don’t want to see criticism of Thor: Ragnarok, then a) don’t read, b) filter your tags, c) block me, or d) any combination of the previous.

For Part Two I’ll explain the characterization discrepancies between Thor: Ragnarok’s characters and those it shares through the MCU. These characters are Thor, Loki, Odin, and Bruce Banner.

(No, I didn’t forget Heimdall and the Warriors Three. I don’t see any issues with Ragnarok’s portrayal of Heimdall—correct me if I’m wrong, I’d love to discuss it—and unfortunately we don’t have enough time with the Warriors Three to tell.)

I’ll start with pre-Ragnarok Thor.

Thor, as I pointed out in Part One, has a violent temper, and his recklessness endangers his brother and friends. He starts out Thor (2011) arrogant enough to try to pull rank on Odin. He cajoles his friends into joining him on dangerous missions. He tends to look down on Loki, but doesn’t visibly enjoy seeing him in pain, and cares what happens to his brother to some degree (he’s distraught when Loki seemingly dies in both Thor movies, and saves Loki from the implosion bomb). He eventually learns to cool his temper to some degree (come later in Thor (2011) and later movies), though he still has lapses (when he Mjolnirs Tony for getting between him and Loki, then Cap for telling him to drop Mjolnir in Avengers (2012); when he nearly punches Loki in the face in TDW, when he chokes Tony in AOU). He learns to talk things out before fighting (he talks to the Kronan in TDW before they...uh, fight, and he tries to talk down Ultron in AOU with “no one needs to break anything”). Thor starts to question Odin’s authority (when Odin basically says he’d let all of Asgard die if it meant killing the rest of the Dark Elves in TDW) and defy his decisions. He takes situations seriously when they warrant it (note his face when Ultron starts snarking). He cares about Jane quite a lot (he gets her notebook back in Thor (2011), comes to Earth when he thinks she’s in danger in TDW, and brags about her to Tony in AOU).

Now, Ragnarok Thor.

Thor has always patiently put up with Loki’s assaults (will get to these in Loki’s section) without fighting back, losing his temper, or doing anything to prevent them. He openly, shamelessly manipulates Bruce/Hulk (telling each that they’re the one he prefers), Valkyrie (shaming her when she doesn’t want to help him), and Loki (the elevator speech, and the one with the obedience disk). He grins when Loki’s twitching in pain on the ground from the obedience disk, and leaves him there for an unknown length of time where Loki could’ve easily been found and executed. Thor’s back to attacking other realms on suspicions without negotiating (he goes to Muspelheim and kills the king and anyone who tries to protect him). His violence is back—he effectively threatens to smash Loki/Odin’s head in if he doesn’t reveal himself, backs Loki into a couch with Mjolnir to his chest, and looks like he’s about to attack Loki when Odin dies. He’s back to worshiping the ground Odin walks on (after learning that Odin conquered and slaughtered his way through the Nine Realms, he still looks to him for guidance). He quips constantly, no matter the situation (see...the entirety of Ragnarok). He dismisses Jane with a line about a mutual dumping.

Huh?

Loki’s turn.

Loki, as I pointed out in Part One, prefers to negotiate rather than fight, and tends to think ahead. He’s highly intelligent and strategic (he realizes in advance that Thor will get them into trouble on Jotunheim and works out how to get out alive, he realizes that the relics in the vault are stolen, he doesn’t buy Odin’s initial story about taking him in out of compassion, he quickly figures out how to overpower Odin/where to put him/how to get him there/how to get Thor’s friends out of trouble). He has legitimate reasons for everything he does (see Part One). He’s generally loyal to Thor, outside of extreme circumstances like experiencing a mental breakdown or getting anything from coerced to tortured by a mad Titan (his betrayal in Thor (2011) comes as a shock to Thor, and Avengers (2012) didn’t really have anything to do with Thor). After Odin and Frigga lied to him, and Sif, Heimdall, and the Warriors Three betrayed him (as did Thor by agreeing to come with them, technically), Loki doesn’t trust easily, and is always on guard. He refuses to tolerate manipulation from his family (he denies that Frigga is his mother when she makes acknowledging Odin as his father a condition of that, and doesn’t accept for Odin’s hypocrisy). He’s quite skilled at psychological manipulation and lying (he knows exactly what will keep Thor down when he lies that Odin’s dead), and knows how to act (he plays Odin flawlessly enough that Thor doesn’t notice in TDW). He’s anything but lazy (he definitely works at his plans in his first two movies, and in TDW...Svartalfheim and after speaks for itself). He’d make a good ruler (“for all his grave imbalance, Loki understood rule as I know I never will”). After Odin and Thanos, he’s not great with authority figures (he’s...less than respectful of the Other—“if your force is as formidable as you claim”—and he sasses Odin relentlessly in TDW). He feels fear but doesn’t act on it (he’s scared on Jotunheim but fights anyway; he’s scared of the Other but doesn’t run; he’s cool and collected upon his defeat in Avengers (2012); he’s poised with Odin during the trial). He only acts egotistical in Avengers (2012) under the influence of the Mind Stone; otherwise he wants to be accepted as Thor’s equal. He’s genuinely mentally ill (he attempted suicide, and probably has serious PTSD after Thanos—if only the movies showed that kind of thing).

What’s Ragnarok’s Loki like?

Loki’s needlessly violent (the snake story), and has no planning ability whatsoever (he doesn’t have a better plan than ‘get help’). He’s pretty stupid (putting Skurge of all people on Bifrost duty, calling the Bifrost to get away from Hela when she was in Bifrost-range, not noticing the obedience disk, etc.). He doesn’t have a reason for doing anything other than “I’m a trickster, I can’t help myself”. He’s always betrayed Thor compulsively. He’s...not exactly on guard (he doesn’t think to carry a weapon as Odin, and he trusts that the Grandmaster will keep his word and not execute him if he brings in Thor). Loki does what Thor wants when Thor tries emotionally manipulating him. He doesn’t notice when Thor tried reverse psychology on him. He’s terrible at acting (he completely foils Odin’s speech and behavior). He’s remarkably lazy (he’s laying on a couch eating grapes when Thor shows up). He’s pretty bad at ruling (the Nine Realms are in chaos). He’s fairly obedient to authority figures (he ingratiates himself to the Grandmaster and doesn’t talk back once). He’s a bit of a coward (he was scared when Thor showed up, “bring us back”, he’s visibly afraid of the Grandmaster, “I have to get off this planet”). He’s an egomaniac and attention hog (the statue, the play). He “tries...to embody this idea of a tortured artist, this tortured, gothy orphan”—no real problems at all.

Are these supposed to be the same person?!

Okay. Odin.

Odin is massively hypocritical, manipulative liar with tons of blood on his hands (the first part needs no explaining besides “watch the movies”; for the second, Loki first implies, then states outright, that Odin’s responsible for a lot of death, and neither Odin nor Frigga correct him). He doesn’t let Thor make his own choices (he doesn’t even consider that Thor might not want to rule; he wants Thor to be with Sif instead of Jane; he won’t listen to Thor’s suggestions about the Dark Elves). He’s worn down Loki’s self-esteem his whole life by favoring Thor, and he’s outright cruel to Loki later (“No, Loki”; “your birthright was to die”; “Frigga is the only reason you’re still alive and you will never see her again”). He never admits his own faults (he never takes any responsibility for any of the death he’s caused, never admits to the part he played in Loki’s downfall) except to hurt people (“yes, I was a fool—to think that you were ready”). He doesn’t express affection to his sons, and any he has is hugely conditional—as soon as they step out of line, he gives the guards permission to kill them (“by any means necessary!”).

Time for Ragnarok Odin.

Admittedly, he’s still a massively hypocritical, manipulative liar with tons of blood on his hands (see: everything involving Hela). After death, Odin controls Thor’s choices even more than before. He praises Loki aloud (“Frigga would’ve been proud”). He admits a mistake (“I’ve failed you”) in a way that, well, doesn’t immediately hurt anyone. He shows open affection to both Thor and Loki (“I love you, my sons”). He’s generally considered wise and benevolent.

Wait, what?

And now, Bruce. I don’t know as much about him, so his will be short. I’d love to see more on him if anyone has suggestions.

Bruce is very intelligent (he’s a physicist who can keep up with Tony). He’s not panicky; he’s usually quite calm and mild-mannered (see Avengers (2012) and AOU). He hates killing people as Hulk (he’s unhappy after the Hydra bust at the beginning of AOU, and he’s miserable and guilty enough to leave after Johannesburg). After he de-Hulks, he knows he’s most likely killed someone or at least caused a lot of damage.

Then there’s Ragnarok Bruce.

Bruce has 7 PhDs, but his shown intelligence is...questionable: on an alien planet where no one knows who he is, he thinks he’s supposed to disguise himself as Tony Stark. Without Hulk he’s considered useless. He’s openly anxious (“I think I’m freaking out”; his reaction to Sakaar in general). He doesn’t mention the fact that two years straight of being Hulk is probably going to mean a lot of damage and a lot of people dead. He shows no grief or distress due to it.

Yeah...no issues at all....

Odin’s sudden appearance of warmth isn’t without explanation. It could easily be his attempt to make Loki guilty for his anger (since Odin’s last words would’ve seemed kind), thus encouraging him to help with Hela to make up for it. Other than that, they’re irreconcilable.

Thor cannot be both sadistic and non-sadistic.

Loki cannot be both completely stupid and smart.

Odin cannot be both “wise and benevolent” and cruel and controlling.

Bruce cannot be both ignorant of the damage Hulk causes and deeply distraught over it.

These sets of traits cannot exist in the same characters in the same universe without reasons for the change within that universe. Ragnarok provides no such reason, which creates a stark gap in continuity.

There is no cinematic universe without continuity.

Ragnarok clearly disregards the canon of the MCU. Therefore, it cannot be part of that universe.

As I’ve suggested to @lucianalight, I propose that we use the term “Ragnarok Cinematic Universe,” or RCU, for all movies that use Ragnarok’s personal canon.

#marvel #mcu loki #loki meta #mcu thor #anti ragnarok #bruce banner #mcu odin #what universe does ragnarok take place in? #rcu #my posts #my post

[wolfpawn]

Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 50

Story Summary - Based on an idea I had that I submitted to Imagine Loki. Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths.

Chapter Summary -  The Aesir royal family come to Jotunheim to assist in readying for the coronation. 

Previous Chapter

Tags - @peppermint-j @damalseer @perpetual-fangirl @tinchentitri @inspired-snowflace @raphaelaisabella @alexakeyloveloki @caffiend-queen @devilbat @nonsensicalobsessions @skulliebythesea @majoringinlife @salempoe @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @rookienumber98 @ivytoh @agarwaeneth @rosierossette  @arch-venus25 @nessamaurice @winterisakiller

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NOTES -  I literally have this written with over a week and just as a tab on my computer but I suffer from ITS, Idiotic Thoughts Syndrome which makes me really mentally weird and my mind tells me no one likes my stuff, I just had a few people message me over the last day about this telling me they love it which forced me to feel like I am letting them down if I don't post it which, by the way, is sometimes the best way to motivate my shitty ass, so yeah, it needs saying, if you like this, please let me know, it actually gets me to upload new chapters. I have some written, so...yeah.

The roar of the Bifrost resounded across Jotunheim, declaring to the realm that the Allfather had arrived. Loki and Ella stood in the aforementioned agreed place of landing for the Aesir royal family with a few others with them. On seeing her parents, Ella smiled brightly, though her nervousness at revealing to them that she was carrying a child still played slightly on her. She had decided to inform them of their impending grandchild later in the palace, but for now, she hid it under a heavy cloak. When her parents and brother emerged from the startling light, some of their guards and even two of the Warrior’s Three with them, Loki and Ella stepped forward. 

Both Odin and Frigga seemed to immediately look at their daughter more than anything else, Frigga more so than her husband. Though the pair had been conversing through their seidr, it was the first time mother and daughter had been physically in one another’s company since the wedding and especially since she had been ill. Loki and Ella bowed as was expected to the Allfather and Allmother, who in turn both lowered their heads slightly in recognition of the gesture. Thor, who had stood back slightly came forward to deal with the formalities of the situation, though part of him thought it to be entirely unnecessary. Technically speaking, those arriving for the coronation were not doing so yet, so their being there was not on an official basis, more so on being there to assist their daughter and her husband, should they be required to assist so the bowing and such, the stoic interactions were something he wished did not occur. He had fought alongside the Jotnar, bled and lost brethren with them, that made the pageantry unnecessary in his eyes. He wanted to speak with the allies he had made again. 

“Allfather,” Loki bowed to Odin before turning to Frigga and doing the same. “Allmother, thank you for joining us for this momentous occasion.”  

“It is a great day for Jotunheim.” Odin declared though he looked warily at his daughter to see if she had been better treated since his last seeing her. Frigga had informed him that Ella looked healthy and happy when they spoke together but he did not fully believe it. She had put on a facade in the time up to her health scare, she could very easily do so again. But seeing her smile brightly, if not slightly apprehensively at them, there was no denying that she was indeed healthy again. If anything, he noted she seemed a little weightier than before, though he would never state such aloud, he always maintained she could do with a little more weight, especially after she got sick as a child. He wanted to be less formal, to speak with her but this was not the time. “It seems like life is developing well since the Casket’s return, a great success.”

Loki, Ella and many others gathered on the Jotnar side gritted their teeth with regards his comments on the Casket, all thinking the same with regards to him taking it in the first place.” “Jotunheim has never seen prosperity like it. The food is plenty, the many are healthy and the population is about to see an explosion like never before,” Ella beamed. “And with Loki’s rule, it will be even better.” The confident look she gave him and his smile in return startled the Aesir royals to the point of silence. In her talks with her mother, Ella rarely spoke on Loki in any manner, much less one to suggest to her mother that she thought so well of Loki. 

Odin was the first to find his voice again and cleared his throat which in turn, broke the peculiar feeling in the group gathered. “Good, the realm deserves a fresh start.” 

With the formalities completed, everyone headed to the palace. The Jotnar they met on route glanced at the Aesir party with intrigue yet not overly concerned. The Aesir mate to their soon-to-be king had caused many who had been wary before to trust the Aesir slightly more and with Loki’s coronation, they knew this was a necessary evil to host the Allfather once more. 

When they made it to the palace, Ella led them to their rooms with Loki by her side. As soon as all but her brother, his friends and her parents were gone, she walked over to her father and placed her hand beneath his own on Gungnir. “If I may be so bold, I need to borrow this for five minutes.” 

Odin frowned at his daughter. He had not even spoken directly to her since their arrival and she had not explained why she would require one of the most powerful weapons in all of the realms but the pleading yet confident look on her face told him that she felt whatever she planned required it greatly enough to ask. With a slight nod, he relinquished his grip on it and watched as she rushed off, Loki looking at her with confusion on his face as she left. When the young Jotnar noticed the Aesir royals looking at him in bewilderment, all he could do was try to express that he too was oblivious to what his mate was doing. 

Three minutes later, Býleistr walked past them looking terrified. A moment later Helbindi and Greta walked into the hall, both seeing the confused royals gathered in the hallway, both looking equal parts in awe and somewhat scared. 

“What did she do?” Loki half winced, not sure what they were going to say. 

Helbindi grinned. “Did you ask her about the space issue?” Loki nodded. “Well, it is dealt with.”

“What?” Loki cocked his head. 

“She’s after dealing with our space issue,” Helbindi repeated. 

“How?” “No idea. She used some golden stick and her seidr to do it.”

“That’s not a stick, that is Gungnir,” Odin growled, displeased that anyone would disrespect his powerful weapon in such a manner. 

“Gung...I thought only the Allfather could use that?” Helbindi looked to Loki in confusion. 

“Why do you seem surprised?” Loki chuckled. “Ella does as she sees fit, even powerful magical weapons know better than to argue with her.” He threw his eyes up playfully as he said so. 

Barely a moment later, Ella walked through the hall once more, looking proud of herself, Gungnir in her hand. When she got to her father, she smirked and handed him back the staff. “Thank you.” 

“That suits you far too well,” Odin commented to his daughter as he took back Gungnir. He used his seidr to read the magic that the staff had recently worked with to see what she had done. When he sensed it, he studied his daughter’s face, startled by the smirk on it. “How?” “You limit your abilities too much, Father, by your choice not to expand them.” She walked over to Loki who looked curiously at her. “The space issue is rectified.” “So ‘Bind said but how?” 

“I may have tripled the palace.” “I’m sorry, you what?” Loki could not comprehend what she was saying. 

“I used Gungnir to magnify my seidr and simply made the palace bigger. We needed more rooms, I made it that the living areas of the palace are now copied a few extra times so we can house all those who wish to be here. I also used it to make the areas habitable to those arriving. The last thing we need is frozen Light Elves.” 

Loki could not think of an answer worthy of the statement. When he mentioned his concerns to Ella, she smiled and promised to rectify it. When he asked her how she planned to do so, she merely smiled and repeated that she would do so and not worry about it any more. Seeing her do so in less than the time it took to get to the throne room, he found himself wondering how he could ever have thought her to be dim-witted when he first met her. “Always finding solutions.” He smiled kindly at her. 

“What would you do without me?” She smiled before looking over at her parents and brother who clearly were uncertain as to what to say with regards to their daughter’s clearly altered situation. Thor knew that Loki had developed from the arrogant being that he had seen for the wedding, even speaking to him when he came for their assistance but seeing now that it seemed to even have grown more intrigued him slightly, especially because Ella seemed different. She seemed a lot more open, something he had not been used to on Asgard. To him, she was always an annoying prankster at worst or disinterested in him and his friends at best. She never seemed to do anything but stand and listen to court or speak almost stoically with friends. Now, she seemed so much more outgoing and confident. 

“I think we best get settled.” Frigga turned to Odin, who clearly was weary, though no one would admit to such out loud, especially Odin himself. 

“Yes, when you do so, Loki and I must speak more with you,” Ella stated. Her parents stared at her worriedly. “Yes, we are nulling the marriage and I am taking the veil.” Each word dripped with adequate sarcasm befitting her deadpan tone and facial expression. “Surprise.” 

“I thought you had matured, I was getting worried.” Thor scoffed. 

“And be boring? Perish the thought.” Ella shuddered. “Go get settled. We will ensure everything is as it needs to be here and then we will speak more.” She bowed slightly. “Until then, I am getting something to eat.” With that, she walked off. 

Helbindi scoffed slightly before encouraging Greta to back to their rooms to rest. Her heat had settled and she was currently waiting to see if she had become pregnant anxiously while also assisting with the coronation with the other female mates. Helbindi was forced to deal with other matters meaning he only say her for small parts of the day but was adamant that she rest adequately. 

Loki looked after his mate for a moment before looking at her bemused parents. “I best alert my father than all are here.” “Where is Laufey?” Odin asked. 

“Resting, I fear. His health continues to waiver so he must rest more often, hence this unprecedented event.” He bowed slightly. “Until later, please, make yourselves comfortable.” With that, he left to follow do as he said and inform his father. 

“Do we even want to know?” Odin asked his wife. “What did she say to you?” “Nothing worthy of speaking with us like she is implying she needs to, perhaps it is to do with the coronation, she seems slightly concerned with regards to that,” Frigga shrugged. “Nonetheless, it would be wise for us to attempt to prepare the rooms, those ice-beds do nothing for your back.” 

“You hardly doubt it took Ella that long to merely duplicate a few rooms? She has readied ours to our liking also.” Odin informed her. “She said she did it in the other wings but she did it for us also.” 

“How could you possibly know that?” 

“Do you think you are the only one she can communicate silently with? Why do you think we both held Gungnir for a moment?” His chest puffed out proudly. “It was from us both that she became one of the most powerful seidr wielder in the realms, not simply one.” He looked at the staff in his grasp. “Had she have been a son, she would have been terrifying.” Thor was about to say something when he saw his father inhaled deeply in a manner that always meant he was about to say more. “A warrior for an heir and a seidr-wielding assassin as his highest general, it would have been terrifying.” “The Norns knew it would have been too much,” Frigga commented. “She seemed to have little issue with Gungnir.”

Odin looked at his staff, something he could never remember fighting without since the day his father Bor died and it was placed in his hands as his successor. “Yes, so it would seem.” His voice was distant as he did so, telling Frigga that he was thinking of something in his own head. 

#Loki fic #wolfpawn #Pride and Prejudice #chapter 50

[aaravos-breaks-the-internet]

【Aaravos liveblogs The Dragon Prince】Season 1, Episode 1

(Note from the mun: Probably best experienced by reading it while watching the episode yourself? Unless you have great memory of the episode’s details, I assume. I didn’t flesh out the descriptions of the individual scenes because the following text alone took me more than three hours and is 12 pages in Word already. Sadly, I forgot to add time stamps. I might edit them in later if I have the time but I hope that it’ll be possible to follow the script without them for now.

With that said, have fun!)

 *The Intro plays. Magical birds are flying over the waves of an ocean.*

Oh, oh my stars… I’m getting a lump in my throat right off the bat…I can watch Xadia everyday thanks to my arcanum’s ability to see into the beyond. Yet, this feels…different. How long has it been since I’ve walked freely in its wonderful landscape, felt the soothing breeze of the Xadian s-

WHAT THE! HOLY SHOOTING STAR! THAT IS MY VOICE. I – what

*His brain enters a state of frantic confusion.*

????!!!???!! This…this is so surreal. Forgive me but I’m – as you people say – absolutely losing it.

….

 ……………

That is- I just can’t believe it.

That Is Me! I’m in the Netflix. My voice is actually, really, in the Netflix!!

*He burries his hands in his hair with excitement. His initial fear is forgotten.*

 [“…rich in magic and wonder.”]

No offense, but I sound GOOD. I mean, technically I know that. But hearing myself like this is so different from hearing my voice from my own perspective.

*He squeals in anticipation.* This is so awesome.

…

Oh, the music is so sweet…

…

That dragon is…well, I guess I can try to ignore him…

…

…Why is he in every shot? Do we really need him to explain the arcanums? He’s not that great. Believe me.

…

Ok, the flight effect is really spectacular. I have to admit that.

Still, stupid dragon.

…

[“…a human mage…”]

OHHHHH I remember that one *he growls*

…

[“…discovered new magic…”]

Yeah, I bet you “discovered” it. I wonder how you “discovered” it. I’d really like to know. You gotta enlighten me about that “discovery” of yours.

…

In loving memory of those poor birds.

…

OH! OH! OH MY STARS! There I am!! It’s me!!! Hey, I actually look decent for a change. Sigh, I miss my old wardrobe. That scarf was my favourite. So silky and soft.

Also, not to brag, but my hair? Nice.

…

Sigh, poor humans. It breaks my heart everytime I think of the split…

…

Still forever impressed that they managed to draw an actual lava line through all of Xadia.

That’s some true dedication to the cause of hating each other. But I guess if it fuels your ambitions…who am I to judge…you idiots…

…

Oh, Thunder…my cherished…friend…

…

[“But in the eve of last Winter’s Turn…”]

*He inhales sharply*

Oh…this is where the future begins…I have yet to experience what is about to be shown…

…

Unspeakable dark magic? *He rubs his temples, visibly annoyed.* Yeah, I already have an idea what that might have been.

You idiots. All of you. Dragons, elves, humans, all idiots!

…

I’m really carrying myself with a lot of grace in this narration. Good job, future me! I can assure you, that is probably not what I have felt on the inside.

…

Welps, guess there goes your family tree, Thunder. My condolences.

…

[“Now the world stands on the edge of all-out war.”]

I’m pretty sure I smashed my head on the table after that line. Again?! AGAIN?! HAVE YOU NOT LEARNED ANYTHING? You incredible fools?!! You like this, don’t you? This is fun for you, there’s no other explanation. Why else would you imbeciles continue to fight each other like little, immature, bratty kindergarden children.

It’s –ARGHASFADADSF

The worst part is – I knew all of this from the very beginning. Why did I – why do I even bother with helping you…

*He takes a deep breath.*

Calm down, calm doooown… *he hums*

Anger is not good for your soul. You’ll just get bitter and start to come up with horrible revenge fantasies. It’s not worth it. Remember that. Caaaaalm…..

……..

Ok. I’m feeling better.

Let’s continue.

…

Is-is that boy drooling on his glow toad? Poor thing…but that begs the question, why does he let it sleep in his bed in the first place. I would not recommend that…at all. *He shudders.*

…

Oh, that’s a very impressive drawing of a drag-………..marshmallow monster? Really?...well, I guess, that’s…human imagination…very…cute.

…

Yeah no, I don’t think the glow toad was scared…

…

Oh my, that poor guard is dead. So many moonshadow elves? Not a chance.

…

Aaaaand, of course he trips.

…

I’m about to eat my cloak. She let him go.

You might as well turn yourself in as voluntary dragon breakfast now.

…

HHHHeeey!! What’s that greasy dude doing in front of my mirror?

Don’t touch it! I hate it when there are grease spots on the glass.

Well, I guess those humans successfully raided Thunder’s lair. At least I’ll have more sunshine now.

Heyheyhey, I said don’t touch it!

It’s not like you could understand any of those runes anyways.

…

What? He is the High Mage? I have foreseen that the High Mage of Katolis will be important to me. But I expected something…else.

Can I never be lucky? Is that what I get for being so kind, so gracious, so willing to sacrifice myself to help you all? Couldn’t fate be nice to me for a change?

Sigh, guess that’s what I have to work with now.

This better not be too tiring…

I mean, he slew Thunder. That’s something. I guess…

…

Noooo, don’t cover the mirror. My sunshine, remember? At least let me have that. I’ve only seen cave walls for the last couple of centuries. I’d love to have a little change of scene.

Damn.

…

*Harrow rising*

“I woke up like this.”

With perfect hair and perfectly dressed. Ah yes, very realistic. Just like me, every morning. (I’ll never tell you if that’s sarcasm or not.)

…

Oh yes, execute him!

Ok, sorry, I guess that came out a little too excited…*cough*

…

That bird’s nice.

…

That bird’s name is…well, I guess it’s a name.

…

He’s surprisingly calm considering he and his whole crew are about to be violently murdered by moonshadow assassins.

That’s some startouch-level coolness.

Impressive.

…

[“…we must find them today…”]

Yeaaaah, good luck with that…

…

Moonshadow elves are always so dramatic when it comes to their acrobatics.

Yeees, you’re very cool. A real ninja. Here, have a pat on the back. Now go back and play with the others.

…

Please don’t tell me you think veteran moonshadow assassins can’t tell the difference between blood and moonberry juice…

…

Aaaand, you think they can’t. *He slaps his forehead.*

I’m foresing that a great assassin career lies ahead of you. Yes, really.

…

*Cough* Wh-who is this very good looking fella, holy shooting star…

I mean.

Who is this?

He looks important. Like an important elf. Probably their leader.

Yes, that must be it. I just deduced that. I’m very smart.

*The coughing intensifies.*

…

*He sees the necklace.*

Nooooooooo, he is betrothed.

Whyyyyyyy fate. Won’t you let me have anything?

…

Did…did he just fall for the moonberry trick?

You’re very beautiful but forgive me, that was very dumb.

…

This face…my stars…

……………………..

 ………………….

………..What on earth is going on with me? Focus you dumb, old startouch elf.

It’s not like you to be so easily impressed with others. There’s absolutely no reason for that.

He’s just a boring, average moonshadow elf.

Whatever those weird, inexplicable, mushy feelings in your stomach are, we are done with those.

No more silly touchy-feely emotions.

Ok, let’s get back on track.

Ha, see, you have no power over me, you ridiculously pretty moonshadow elf!

Glad we sorted that out.

…

Yeah, he can see that.

…

That human village looks pretty sweet actually.

I wonder if they sell bread.

I’d love to have some bread now.

Wait, what?

…

Ah, jelly tarts. I remember those. Never liked them. Not enough chocolate. How can they make pastry. Without chocolate. I will never understand.

…

Those are…some impressive lashes.

Apparently modern day humans in Katolis like to put make-up on their pets?

Isn’t that animal cruelty? Is nobody concerned?

…

That toad is definitely smarter when it comes to this whole jelly tart stealing business…

It’s a bit sad to watch.

Well, at least it helped the human kid out.

Enjoy your tarts. Your sad, little, chocolate-less tarts…

…

Ah, that knight looks like a very smart person.

  Not.

…

He seems as enthusiastic about teaching the artist boy as I am about working together with the greasy wizard.

I relate to you, not very smart but at least good-at-your-trade knight.

…

Geez, this sword fighting lesson is a tragedy.

I’ve read startouch law books that were more uplifting.

…

Love amongst the dragons? Sigh, really? Such an overrated book. Too many dragons.

Ok ok, the love story part is kind of cute.

I guess.

Not that I would know.

As I have never read it.

…

I want to take a moment to thank the universe for not having siblings.

…

I mean, 300 years is nothing. So she’s kinda right? It’s pretty new?

…

*Slaps his face*

No you can’t do it now. That was a bad idea.

You’re noticing that yourself, aren’t you?

…

Is this how you humans court each other?.............

That explains….a lot….

…

Oh? What? He didn’t really stab you? You don’t say. I thought you were dead for real. What a shocking twist of events.

…

Hehe, pushing around those little figures was always the best part of any political meeting.

…

This conversation is off to a rocky start. Don’t do your children dirty like that.

You are evidently muddying the mood of your kids.

…

We have visitors from Xadia…unwanted visitors…look at mee…I’m the human mage…I’m so important…with my condescending voice…I’m so powerfuuuuul…for I am the human mage…

I feel the sudden urge to throw myself from the highest bookshelf in my library.

…

Yes. Yes, I think you’re an idiot, Soren.

…

[“…You’re saying they’ll kill the king?”]

Yeah right. As if Callum could have heard that down there in the courtyard.

He has human ears, not elf ears. *wiggles them in annoyance without noticing*

…

[“…’unstoppable: is just another kind of ‘stoppable’.”]

That’s…not…what?

My head hurts.

Is this the future of dark magic in Katolis?

I’m very concerned now.

…

14 and three quarters?

……………………………

This kingdom doesn’t need any enemies. It’ll take itself down all on its own.

…

[“Think fast.”]

As fast as you, three-quarter-boy?

…

Ah yes, the moonshadow elves. Their leader is talking. He sounds very distressed.

I mean. They murdered the dragon. I understand. I would be very distressed, too.

…

Uh-oh, no, please don’t bind your lives to-

Sigh……………moonshadow elves are so, so very dramatic. It’s painful.

Really annoying a thousand years ago, still really annoying today.

…

Yes, life is precious. Very good, very well observed. So why do you idiots throw it away with stupid binding curses like that? Your assassin career would be just fine without your silly, theatrical honour codes, that you cling to in order to give your life a deeper meaning but that are ultimately very useless and very dumb.

…

You really had to flex your arm like that just to illustrate the binding of the ribbon, didn’t you, moonshadow leader? That was totally necessary. Sure.

…

Ah….Runaan…that is…a nice name.

Which I just assessed factually, neutrally, in a very matter-of-fact manner.

I just noticed. Nothing more.

…

[“What if they know we’re coming?”]

That’s the face of somebody who messed up big time.

…

[“No, I don’t want a stupid jelly tart!”]

Ah, yes. Finally somebody who gets it!

…

Ok, I have to admit…I feel for them though… Poor children.

…

[“…closet full of moon sweaters.”]

*Bursts into laughter*

Closet full of moon sweaters!! That’s-OHHHH Curses! *he growls*

You got me there. Shame on me. Won’t happen a second time. I promise you that!

…

Flopflopflopflopflop

You know…the sound of the moon moth’s wings…right?

…

Yesssss, dramatic horse chase. Follow the moon sweater moth!

…

Well, guess he just…broke off that engagement.

…

Ohhhh, pretty sparkles!!

See? We’re perfect for each other.

He likes sparkles. I sparkle.

A match made in heaven!

…

Soren, they-they’re right in front of you!!

Is this the amount of effort you put into protecting your kingdom? When it is at the brink of freaking war?! Forget the moonshadow elves, you’re the biggest threat to Katolis’ safety…

God, I’m getting a headache.

I hope your father is a bit...brighter or I might have to let the elves and dragons win this thing.

…

[“You lied to me!”]

Ohhhhh, he’s so fierce when he’s angry…

I would never lie to you! *hums*

 Well, because I can’t lie. Which is very annoying sometimes…

…

[“Runaan, I’m sorry!”]

Something tells me that this won’t convince him.

…

[“You let him live but you’ve killed us all!”]

Whoa, Runaan, calm down. She’s a kid. I’m sure that’s not very good for her mental well-being. Cut her some slack.

If this was so important then maybe you should have taken out that soldier yourself. Didn’t occur to you back then? Nope, I don’t think so. Don’t blame her now because you were so bad at planning ahead.

*Shakes his head*

Moonshadow assassin leaders…

…

 Oh, that was it? Already?

That was…surprisingly fun. Not the soul-crushing existential crisis I was anticipating.

What does it say here? Next episode in five seconds? Well, I won’t say no to that…

Maybe I should get myself something to eat…

*He gets up, humming cheerfully.*

#Aaravos #Aarablog #Aaravos roleplay #Aaravos rp #The Dragon Prince #The Dragon Prince roleplay #TDP #Runaavos #Runaaravos #Chaotic Good (AU) Aaravos

[welllpthisishappening]

The Gift Receipt (3/5)

It genuinely makes sense in her head.

After all, Mary Margaret is being Mary Margaret and Emma just needs five seconds to herself and for her friends to get off her back and saying she can’t talk to Killian Jones because she and Killian Jones once went on a very bad date is the perfect excuse. It’s also not true, but whatever. It works.

Until Emma needs to bring someone home for Christmas. To get the entire town off her back. So, she comes up with another plan and another lie and pretending to get back together with a guy she was never actually with will make their inevitable break-up incredibly easy. It makes sense. Seriously.

That is, of course, until Killian agrees and there’s far too much pie and radio hits of the 70s and opinions on animated Christmas classics. It gets a little more complicated after that.

Rating: Mature. There’s kissing. And more than kissing. Word Count: 9K and change.  AN: Hey there, internet. A great, big huge thank you for continuing to be genuinely wonderful about this fluff. Like. The fluffiest fluff to ever fluff. That being said most of today’s chapter is based on real life things. Come ask about that family member who one time questioned whether or not husband and I were doing ok in our marriage after we trash talked each other during Christmas UNO. That happened. 

Also on Ao3 and FF.net if that’s how you roll.

She’s the Grinch.

That’s the only explanation for whatever happens to Emma’s body as soon as she wakes up, flipping on her side to find the rest of the bed empty and the sheets under her outstretched hand decidedly cold.

And, really, she’s got no right whatsoever to be anything about any of it.

This is not that kind of thing. This is...a whatever kind of thing. A great, big giant lie some entirely unhelpful corner of her brain reminds her, but then some other part of her brain is quick to point out that those particular adjectives don’t make any sense in the context of the very real making out she and Killian participated in the night before.

Because that’s absolutely what it had been.

It had been making out and it had been something in a way it absolutely, positively was not supposed to be and Emma was fairly certain of...she had absolutely no idea.

Definitely the Grinch.

He probably didn’t get to make out very often anyway, what with the Who’s and the general pettiness and Emma could never understand how he fed Max if he lived on that mountain all by himself. Where did he even find Max? The logistics of it didn’t make any sense at all.

Were the Who's born that way or did they evolve to look like that?

Where was Whoville in relation to the rest of the world? How did they know about Santa Claus?

Maybe they were distant descendants of the elves.

None of it made any sense at all.

That may have just been Emma – whose current state of emotional upheaval was entirely her own doing and her own fault and she’d managed to play herself in less than twenty-four hours. That probably would have been impressive if she weren’t so decidedly Grinch-like.

It feels as if her heart is shrinking.

She can’t imagine what biology the Grinch is dealing with. His resting heart rate must be ridiculous.

Emma sighs, throwing a far too dramatic arm over her face and she knows she’s going to have to get out of bed eventually. There’s more schedule to contend with and more people and she’s really got to do something about the pie situation.

The pie situation has become some kind of code. To herself. She’s going insane. Maybe that’s why the Grinch was so angry. He was lonely on the mountain. Max never really talked back.

Maybe Emma should get a dog when she gets home.

God, she is home.

With Killian Jones. Technically. She has no idea where Killian is.

“Alright, alright, alright,” Emma mumbles, to herself. Because she is alone. In the room. In the bed and breakfast. Ruby is seriously going to kill her for getting to stay in the bed and breakfast. “We’ve got to get up.” Apparently Emma talks in the third person now.

That’s probably a sign of impending insanity and likelihood of stealing all the presents from the Who's.

Emma swings her legs over the side of the bed, not entirely familiar with the layout of the room, but she’s not sure that has anything to do with the way her vision swims in front of her face as soon as she stands up. That may have something to do with the eggnog she’d had the night before. And the making out.

The making out probably didn’t make her drunk – it just felt that way. So, really, she’s a complete and utter disaster with no pie and no actual boyfriend and neither one of those things should make it feel as if Christmas has been preemptively ruined on Christmas Eve, but Emma’s feeling decidedly dramatic and particularly Grinch-like and it had felt far too real.

It had felt far too easy. Like breathing. Or getting drunk on spiked eggnog.

She needs to ask Killian why he agreed to any of this.

She needs to brush her goddamn teeth.

Emma trudges into the small bathroom in the corner of the room, more nautical decor on the walls because the summer crowd in Storybrooke loves nothing more than all things nautical, trying to pull the tangles from the ends of her hair. She hopes her hair didn’t get into Killian’s face in the middle of the night.

She assumes he would have woken her up if it had been a problem. Maybe. Hopefully.

That word is starting to get on Emma’s nerves.

Merry Christmas, or whatever.

And she almost doesn’t see it at first – eyes downcast and shoulders decidedly slumped, grabbing her toothbrush from the edge of the sink and all but thrusting her hand under the water as soon as she turns it on. But it only takes a moment to glance up, mouth hanging open and wrist going slack because there’s a post-it note barely hanging onto the middle of the mirror.

Emma’s shoulders slump even more, a breath rushing out of her that almost leads to choking via toothbrush. She blinks. And blinks again. The post-it is still there

She can’t imagine where he found a post-it.

The handwriting is a little crooked – like it was scrawled quickly or possibly with a bit of holiday-based excitement and Emma’s fingers shake slightly when she reaches out a cautious hand towards it. There’s still a bit of residue on the mirror when she tugs the post-it off.

You’re the heaviest sleeper in the history of the world. I’ve commandeered the kitchen, so you should probably meet me downstairs.

Emma lets out a shaky laugh, tugging her lip between her teeth like she’s worried the moment isn’t real or is as fake as she’s convinced herself it has to be. Because the whole thing is based on a lie.

Her lie.

That she told.

She’s a disaster.

And she hasn’t actually finished brushing her teeth. There’s toothpaste on her tongue still.

She huffs, shaking her head and finally turning off the sink and it only takes her six minutes to get in the shower, out of the shower and into clothes. She puts the post-it note in her wallet.

Emma doesn’t race down the stairs in the back, but she’s certainly closer to running than walking and she nearly breaks both her ankles on three different occasions. It leaves her skidding to a stop in front of the swinging door of the kitchen, mumbling curses under her breath and threatening to chew a hole in her lip.

She doesn’t hear him move towards her.

It leaves her with an almost broken ankle again – jumping and flinching and Killian chuckles when he twists his arm around her. He’s wearing an apron.

Emma is decidedly screwed.

It’s like when Cindy Lou Who showed up and asked the Grinch why he was stealing their presents. But maybe with more kissing. Hopefully. And less small children. So, really, nothing like that at all.

“Why were you lurking out here?” Killian asks, as if it’s totally normal for him to be alone in Granny’s kitchen with what appears to be a container of something in his right hand if the pressure digging into Emma’s spine is any indication.

“I wasn’t lurking.” “Swan, you were just standing there.” “How did you know how to get to the kitchen?” HIs smile moves across his face slowly, which is honestly the most offensive thing a smile can do, particularly when it’s on Killian’s face. Emma is grateful he hasn’t moved his arm yet. She’s not entirely confident in the state of her joints at this point.

“I have eyes,” he mutters. “And like I said, you’re a very sound sleeper, love.” “I’m not sure I understand how those two go together at all. Are you baking something?” “We’re baking something.” “What?” Killian hums, tugging her further into the kitchen and Emma’s eyes widen at the same time her jaw drops because there’s far more happening here than whatever he’s still got pressed into the base of her spine. There are containers all over the counter, spices and flour and sugar and what, at first glance, appears to be a bowl full of actual whipped cream. Not cool whip. Not something in a pressurized cane. Actual whipped cream.

Like Killian made it.

Before ten o’clock in the morning on Christmas Eve.

“Are you an elf?” Emma asks, jerking her head towards him in just enough time to see his smile turn slightly incredulous.

“Excuse me?” “You know. Like...an elf.” “You can’t use the word in the definition, Swan.” She groans, but she’s also charmed and that’s been the theme for the last few hours and since the wedding and it’s all so easy, Emma is certain she will eventually scream about it. Or kiss Killian again. She’s not particular about either one.

“Elves are crazy productive,” she shrugs, and Killian’s expression is unfair. He’s doing a horrible job of not laughing at her. “You know they make all those...etch-a-sketches.” “Etch-a-sketches.” “Yeah.” Killian arches an eyebrow. “Are you quoting Elf to me right now? Is that honestly what’s happening?” “I’m not actually quoting anything. I’m...suggesting.” “That I’m an elf?” “Or at least raised by elves.” “I was not raised by elves,” Killian promises, but he can’t quite keep the laughter out of his voice and Emma clicks her tongue like she’s even remotely frustrated.

She takes a step forward instead, buoyed by a sense of misplaced confidence and sentimentality and probably just the generic feeling of Christmas because she hadn’t noticed the music playing in the background before.

And Killian doesn’t flinch when she brushes the tips of her fingers over the shell of his ear, but she can see a muscle in his jaw jump and he inhales sharply. “You kind of look it though,” Emma mumbles. “You could work a costume well. Maybe get some part-time gig at Macy’s.” It is, hands down, the most ludicrous thing she has ever said.

“Is that a compliment?” Killian asks, rocking towards her and he’s never put the container down, but his hand keeps moving back to Emma and she nods.

“Obviously. Was that not clear?” “Not entirely crystal.” “Ah, well…” Emma cuts herself off when the music shifts again and something in the very center of her stutters because--”Is this The Carpenters?”

Killian nods, his hand heavy on Emma’s hip. Again. Like those magnets have returned. “Festive.” “Super,” she mumbles, tongue darting out between her suddenly dry lips and the air feels far heavier and far more meaningful and the very first Christmas she’d been in Storybrooke and Granny told her she could stay in Storybrooke as long as she wanted, The Carpenters had been playing in the background, a quiet melody that seemed to have settled into Emma’s soul and every single corner of what she’d always wanted.

And there’s no way for Killian to have known that, but it doesn’t really matter to Emma’s heart or her aforementioned soul.

“Did you say we were going to bake?” Emma asks suddenly, and Killian blinks at her abrupt shift in tone.

“I did promise we’d figure out the pie situation, didn’t I?” “I just figured we’d kind of...I don’t know, hide out in the corner of the restaurant for most of the night. Maybe see if Ruth made an extra one we could cop.” “Ruth was one of my co-judges last night, right?”

“David’s mom, almost as good at baking as Granny, but please don’t tell either one of them I said that.” Killian mimes zipping his mouth shut. Something on the other side of the kitchen beeps. “Mum’s the word, love. Does Ruth usually bake more than one pie?” “Oh, yeah,” Emma nods, jumping onto the edge of the closest counter when Killian turns towards the nearest oven. “I think it’s because she and Granny have some kind of unspoken competition about it, but also because she’s trying to make sure David’s got as many options as humanly possible.” “Of pie?”

“Ah, of happiness-type things.” “Was that code?” Emma makes a contradictory noise, kicking her foot out only to let it slam into the cabinet underneath her. Killian is mixing something. It probably should not be attractive. She’s going to blame the apron. “Not in a way that makes any sense because nothing about this town makes any sense.”

“Ah, it’s nice.” “It’s overbearing, but that’s because we’ve all kind of got some vaguely depressing backstories and it’s almost like...the Island of Misfit Toys.” Killian smirks, leaning forward to grab something else and he doesn’t seem to be measuring anything. “You’re full of references this morning, aren’t you?” “It’s because I haven’t had enough coffee to become a normal person yet,” Emma reasons. Killian makes a triumphant noise – as if he’s only just remembering something and he’s a flash of limbs and bright, blue eyes and the exceptionally stupid smirk, rummaging through the cabinet closest to Emma’s head.

She rests her hands on his shoulders before she can rationalize any reason not to.

He doesn’t tell her to move.

He hands her a coffee mug. And a bag of Reese’s Christmas trees.

Emma’s going to cry. Listening to The Carpenters and baking pies, or probably just one pie, no one but Ruth makes more pie, and--

“How did you know that?” she breaths, and his smile is even more distracting when his tongue is doing whatever it’s doing in the corner of his mouth.

“Granny asked me to go get some from...what’s the name of the general store?” “Main Street Mercantile.” Killian hums, smile still there and the muscles in his face must ache. Emma doesn’t say that out loud. It doesn’t sound like the compliment it probably should be. “Ah, exactly,” he nods. “She said you probably wouldn’t come out of the room unless you were bribed with a trail of these leading down the stairs.” “Wow. That is...scathing. And patently untrue.” “Is it? It’s pretty late, Swan.” “It’s Christmas Eve! Also, were you just hanging out with Granny all morning? Did you eat? Why were you awake?” “In order of question. Not all morning, she apparently had something to do with the mayor?” Emma rolls her eyes. “But part of the morning. It was almost too obvious Granny would have been incredibly offended if I had not accepted her bacon, egg and cheese sandwich. Does she make those English muffins herself?”

“It’s a super top secret recipe. Ruby tried to duplicate it once on my birthday and it was an absolute disaster.” “Well, they’re delicious. What was your last question?” “Why were you awake,” Emma repeats. “And what exactly are you baking?” Killian grits his teeth, a hiss of breath and that’s not the response she’d expected. “Old habits,” he mumbles, and she can hear the deflection there. “Also, we’ve covered that already. It’s a pie. Or it will be once it goes in the oven and you decide to get off the counter and help.” “Did you ask me to help?” “I assumed it was implied.” “You know what happens when you assume.”

Killian’s laugh almost makes Emma forget whatever happened to his face as soon as he mumbled old habits and she takes his hand when he offers it, letting him pull her off the edge of the counter with a soft thump. “You really didn’t have to go get me chocolate Christmas trees,” she mutters, dragging her hands up his arms.

And it all happens so quickly, she briefly wonders if she just imagines it, but Emma’s eyes flit towards her fingers when she feels Killian tense underneath her and she must curse under her breath. He makes some kind of noise in the back of his throat, a grunt or a groan or a promise of it’s fine, love that seems particularly hollow when her fingers are resting on the top of his brace.

“And they’re not just chocolate,” Killian reasons. “The peanut butter made them totally worth the quest I went on.”

Emma tilts her head. And moves her hands back to her side. “Oh, it was a quest now?” “A very gallant one.” “For candy?” “Candy for you.”

There’s a hesitancy to his words, something that makes Emma’s pulse thud and her heart grow, at least two sizes, and she figures it’ll probably get to the Grinch-mandated three by the end of the night. She hopes so, at least.

“Thank you,” she whispers, hoping he realizes she’s not actually talking about prepackaged candy that rarely ever looks like Christmas trees.

“I wanted to.” That’s less hesitant. That’s honest. And straightforward. And, God, Emma hopes so much she’s positive she reeks with it.

That can’t possibly be the right verb.

She nods slowly, rocking back on her heels and doing her best not to blink. And breathe. She needs to breathe.

“Did Granny tell you about The Carpenters too?” Emma asks.

“Should she have?” “No, no, I...this place is seriously the Island of Misfit Toys, you know. That was a reference, but it was also kind of true.” “Did you want to be a dentist at one point, Swan? Also, I’d like the record to show that in this instance you’re calling yourself an elf.”

She scoffs, but she’s still being charmed and Killian flashes a grin when she swipes her finger through the bowl of whipped cream. “Incorrect. I never wanted to be a dentist. Anna considered it once, but then she realized there were actually teeth involved and--” “--She didn’t realize she would have to deal with teeth? That’s, like, the basis of being a dentist.” “Yeah, well, Anna is kind of...man, flighty sounds really offensive doesn’t it?” “I promise not to tell, Swan.” Emma feels kind of drunk again. She steals more whipped cream – if only to make sure Killian’s eyes do that wide, slightly scandalized thing. “My hero,” she teases, and he clicks his tongue, but she might actually be charming him at this point. “Should we be baking while I explain this?” “What is this, exactly?” “Storybrooke.” Killian doesn’t answer immediately, and for half a second it’s off-putting, but then he tilts his head again and Emma gets that feeling like he’s appraising her or trying to read her and is only a little frustrated that he can’t. Because it’s very obvious he wants to. And for the first time in as long as Emma can remember, she wants to too.

The structure of that sentence is confusing.

She’s going to eat all the whipped cream before they bake anything.

“I’d like that,” he says, and it feels like he’s just recited The Night Before Christmas or some other far-too-long poem. “And we’re making Millionaire’s Pie.” Emma blinks. “Did you just make that up?” “No.” “What is that?” “Chocolate, caramel, coconut and uh...pecans.” “None of those things sound like they should go together.” “You were willing to buy key lime pie, Swan,” Killian points out, nodding towards a container and mouthing that one at Emma. “I promise this is far more appropriate for the holiday.”

“Seriously, you need to stop glazing over the most interesting part of that story. You’re the one who insulted Aurora and her pies.” “No one wants key lime pie in December.” Emma hums, the certainty on his face making it impossible to argue. “Why is it called Millionaire’s Pie?” “Because eating it makes you feel like a million bucks.”

She laughs – loud and earnest, her head thrown back with the force of it and Killian stares at her like they both just won the lottery. “That’s the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard.” “There’s no cheese involved in this,” he promises. “You want to crimp the edges of the crust?” “Look at you with your technical terms.” “Swan, we’ve been over this, I know absolutely everything. You want to crimp or no?” “Obviously I want to crimp.”

“Then...”

Emma sticks her tongue out, but that only makes his smile grow and her heart continues to do whatever, hammering against the inside of her ribs. “Fine, fine, I am crimping. Should I use my fingers or…” “We’re not animals, love,” Killian mutters, leaning back to hand her a fork and Emma cannot fathom how he’s already learned the layout of the kitchen as well. Like belongs there.

With her.

She’s insane.

She wonders why she hasn’t dipped one of the Christmas trees in the whipped cream yet.

“You’ve got a lot of very high opinions for a guy wearing an apron,” Emma says. “Also did you want to hear this story?” “Of course I did. You’re the one who seems incapable of multitasking.”

Emma glares. It earns her a smirk. So, naturally, she reaches forward grabs the plastic container of flour, yanks the top off and flicks a handful at Killian – in the face. He gasps, blinking quickly and she probably should have given him some warning because-- “--You could blind a man like that, Swan!” “I think that’s a commentary on your reflexes, actually. And, would you look at that? I am crimping and distracting you. Maybe you’re just incapable of staying on task.”

He opens his mouth, only to close it. Four times in a row. And he’s still blinking at her, like he’s trying to make sure she hasn’t disappeared. Emma isn’t entirely certain she hasn’t.

She feels light and heavy and nervous and excited and whatever is happening in the pit of her stomach feels a bit like acid reflux, but it’s also kind of pleasant in a way that seems like there’s some kind of fire there as well, warming her from the inside out and he went to Mercantile.

He got her Christmas trees.

Karen Carpenter is still singing in the background.

“Oh that was a mistake, love,” he mutters, moving around the island in the middle of the kitchen far quicker than Emma is entirely prepared for.

Her breath catches when he wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her flush and firm against his chest. She squirms, but that only seems to egg him on, laughter ringing in her ears and Killian’s chin digging into the top of her shoulder.

He has to change his hold on her to grab his own container of baking product off the counter and neither one of them acknowledge it, but it feels like they’ve crossed a line. That may also have something to do with Emma’s ass pressed into him, but that’s neither here nor there.

It’s less festive.

It’s...something else altogether and Emma would love to consider it, but she’s too busy trying to work out of Killian’s hold and he nips at the side of her neck when she stomps on his right foot.

“Oh, that is not playing fair at all,” Killian grumbles, and Emma laughs like she’s won.

And for half a second she believes she has. She thinks that’s that and the flirting is flirting and she’s somewhere in the realm of confident about whatever the hell it is they’re doing until Killian yells aha in her ear and there’s a handprint on her stomach – made of confectioners sugar.

“Are you kidding me?” Emma balks.

Killian laughs again, and they’re moving, Emma’s feet sliding across the kitchen floor until she’s bumping against the island. He keeps her pinned there, grabbing another handful of sugar to drag across her forearm, circling the same spot on her wrist he’d been so focused on the night before and Emma is momentarily dumbfounded.

Probably because this shouldn’t be happening. And it certainly shouldn’t be this much fun.

She finally gets her bearings when Killian swipes his fingers across the collar of her shirt, landing on skin and sending a spark of what feels like actual electricity through her veins. Emma spins on the spot, It’s enough to take him by surprise, his quiet ooof a very particular victory when her hips cant up and there’s still some flour on the ends of Emma’s fingers.

Killian curses when she cards them through his hair.

“You are a menace,” he accuses. Emma shrugs. “You know how long that’s going to take to get out of my hair?” “I only brought so many clothes. Who uses confectioners sugar like that? It’s like glitter.”

He huffs, an exhale of air and feeling. And for half a moment Emma thinks he’s going to call a truce, because this is only sort of childish and they’re both going to get yelled at by Granny, but then Killian’s hands are moving and she’s not on her feet anymore. He drags his hands across the back of her shirt, eyes bright and a little devious and that might be her new favorite look – even when he’s getting confectioners sugar all over her rather limited clothing selection.

Emma grumbles when Killian drops her back on the edge of the counter, a position that’s starting to feel especially familiar, particularly when he works his way between her legs. She hooks her foot around his calf again.

If only to hear that sound again.

She isn’t disappointed.

It’s better the second time.

And she’s got every intention of kissing him. She does, really. She wants to and, possibly, needs to, but Killian tilts his head up and there’s something just on the edge of his gaze that feels much bigger than anything else and--

“I’m really glad you’re here,” Emma whispers.

Killian blinks. That same muscle in his jaw moves again. “Yeah?” he asks softly, Emma nodding quickly enough she’s worried she’s going to make her neck crack.

“Yeah. I, um...I know it’s, well, you’re doing me an enormous favor and I can’t thank you enough for that, but I’m...I wasn’t expecting to have fun.” “You’ve got a rather low opinion of me, love,” Killian laughs, fingers trailing up and down her side. She’s not sure he realizes he’s doing it. There’s flour and sugar everywhere.

“No, I don’t.” They don’t freeze. They’re definitely breathing. Emma can feel her shoulders moving, can see Killian’s chest shift on every inhale, but they don’t speak either and that feels decidedly important and possibly life-changing and she needs to learn the importance of silence.

“Because I wasn’t kidding about the Island of Misfit Toys,” Emma continues. “I...I told you how I got here at the wedding and there’s...David’s dad died and Mary Margaret’s mom died and it took forever for her and Regina to not hate each other and…” She exhales, head falling forward until Killian’s fingers shift, moving away from her side and curling around the back of her neck. Emma doesn’t mention that he’s getting sugar in her hair. “But they’ve all figured it out and they’re all happy and they always just accepted me. Wanted me to be here and I...I’m really glad you’re here too.” More silence.

That’s kind of disappointing.

Until it’s...not and the force of Killian’s answering smile is almost blinding if that weren’t the most cliché thing Emma had ever thought.

“I’m glad I’m here too, Swan,” he says. “What’s your most scathing Christmas opinion?” “What?” “Most scathing.” “Why do you want to know that?” “I’d like to know everything.” Emma has to swallow before she can even consider her response, emotions bubbling and festering and that’s a disgusting word but she realizes she hasn’t actually had any coffee yet and it’s probably a miracle she’s even cognizant.

Killian’s fingers are still in her hair.

“I hate that people thin, My Favorite Things from The Sound of Music is a Christmas song. It’s not. It’s not even from a Christmas scene, like Meet Me in St. Louis. It mentions snow, like, once. It’s the dumbest thing in the world.”

“Meet Me in St. Louis could probably be a Halloween movie if you want to get technical.” “Exactly! It’s dumb. It’s like ABC Family or whatever it’s called--” “--Showing Harry Potter all the time in December?”

This should not be attractive. This should not be even ground. Emma’s mind doesn’t care. The Carpenters are still playing.

“Is that your most scathing Christmas opinion?” Emma asks, and Killian hums in agreement.

“The hottest of hot takes. I blame society. And commercialism.” “Don’t you know? That’s what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown.” He chuckles, dropping his head back towards her shoulder and Emma can’t tell if he actually kisses where his mouth lands. She wants him to. Far more than she probably should. But this doesn’t really feel very fake and they’ve still got to bake a pie.

“I’m not sure that’s how the movie works, love.” “Ah, I don’t know about that. We’ll watch it later. You’ll see.” “It’s a date.” Emma nearly bites her tongue in half. “It’s a date,” she repeats. “I didn’t get to finish crimping.” “I told you, you weren’t very good at multitasking.” “Oh shut up, go mix something.” Killian nods, hair brushing over the side of Emma’s neck in the process and they don’t throw any more ingredients at each other, but Granny is decidedly scandalized by the state of her kitchen when she walks in an hour and a half later. They’re late for lunch at Regina and Robin’s.

Emma and Killian ate all the Christmas trees.

“This is the most intricately decorated house I have ever seen,” Killian mutters in Emma’s ear as soon as they walk inside. Without knocking.

“Take your shoes off.” “Are you kidding me?” “Do you want to get grounded?” Killian scoffs, but he does as instructed, the ends of his mouth ticking up when Emma uses him to keep her balance as she toes out of her own boots. And, really, it’s an empty threat because Regina loves order and control and she definitely thinks tinsel is the pinnacle of tackiness, but the tree in the corner is covered in Henry and Roland’s homemade ornaments.

It smells like apples everywhere.

“How old is this house?” Killian asks, voice still low and it might be the single most endearing thing she’s ever heard.

“Are you researching right now?” He shrugs, lower lip stuck out and, no, that’s definitely more endearing. “I’m curious. Ballpark it for me.” “I am not a history major.” “What did you major in?” “Criminal justice.” Killian’s expression shifts slightly – leaning far too close to impressed for Emma’s sugar-addled brain to be able to deal with. “Do you think this is a historical landmark?” “Oh my God, look at you. It’s like your salivating at the opportunity to document this.” “Incorrect. I am intrigued. Also this bannister has got to be, like, two-hundred years old. Look at the carving on it. Someone did that by hand.” “You can tell that just by looking at it.” “I’d really love some confirmation,” Killian grins, looking a bit like a kid on Christmas which is oddly appropriate all things considered. “The insurance on this place must be ridiculous.” Emma can’t help the sound that falls out of her – a mix of laughter and disbelief and being impossibly charmed by the whole thing and some other word that also means endearing and Killian’s voice keeps picking up speed. Like a kid on Christmas. “Please don’t ask Regina about the insurance premiums on her house.” “Does madam mayor also employee the Storybrooke decorating committee?” He waves a hand back towards the bannister, which honestly may be hand carved, Emma’s never really considered it too much, particularly when its covered in ivy.

She shakes her head. “Get ready to meet the Mills-Locksley decorating committee.”

The small body that slams into her side appears to have defied the rules of physics and possibly gravity, and Emma grunts when Roland’s forehead slams into her right hip. Henry groans. “We talked about that, Rol,” he sighs.

Emma tries to wave him off, but it’s a sudden and expected onslaught of Emma, Emma, Emma and did you bring candy and can we play yet. She closes her eyes, letting the enthusiasm wash over her and sink into her and there’s more shouting when the door opens again.

Roland leaps towards David, his laugh turning closer to a cackle when he’s flipped upside down. “What did we say about the limbs, Rol?” David asks, hissing as he tries to shift the kid’s weight without dislocating something.

“You are way too old to be doing this, Nolan,” Emma says, only because he can’t flip her off when Henry and Roland are standing there.

“Especially after he was complaining about his sore back all last night,” Mary Margaret adds.

David looks scandalized. That may also be because Killian’s moved his arm back around Emma’s waist. She probably doesn’t lean into it. Probably. “Aw, c’mon,” David mumbles. “I told you that in confidence.”

“You should know Mary Margaret is incapable of keeping a secret,” Regina says, leaning over the top of the bannister with a smile on her face. “Emma, is there flour in your hair?” “Confectioners sugar.” “Ah, of course.” “We made a pie,” Killian explains. Regina’s eyebrows leap into her hairline. “Hi, we only kind of met last night. I’m Killian Jones.” “Regina Mills. Robin is…” “Talking to Granny about the wine,” Henry finishes.

Regina hums, opening her mouth to, probably, remind them to take off their shoes, but Roland is quicker and still coherent even when upside down and Emma should have expected a six-year-old to be this curious. “Is that your boyfriend, Emma?” He more or less shouts the question – the words sounding particularly loud when it appears everyone else has frozen and Emma knows she doesn’t imagine the way Killian’s fingers tighten around her waist. “Uh..” Emma stammers, and she just needs to nod. Or lie. Or say something.

Anything.

Because she can feel Mary Margaret staring at her and Regina’s eyes are far too knowing and--

“What are you guys doing?” Robin asks, appearing in the foyer with Granny half a step behind and what appears to be a liquid thermometer in his hand. “Is this some kind of new, very strange intimidation tactic?” “Intimidation tactic,” Killian echoes, and it’s as if everyone’s been flicked back on or had their batteries recharged. Emma exhales. And totally leans into Killian’s arm.

“We play a very serious game of UNO with multiple decks. If you let Emma win again, I’ll probably kick you out of my house.” “It’s not that serious,” Mary Margaret promises, but that’s kind of a lie and they’ve been known to make alliances in the past.

“It’s totally that serious,” Henry argues. “We bought new cards this year, Emma, so you can’t keep finding the Draw Fours with the ones you dogeared.” Killian’s head snaps towards her, stunned and definitely impressed and Emma feels the flush rise in her cheeks. “He’s a kid. He’s exaggerating. I would never cheat at Christmas Eve UNO.”

“Pirate,” Killian mumbles. He ducks his head, and for one crazy, mixed-up second of festivities and feelings Emma is positive he’s going to kiss her right there in that foyer. He doesn’t. At least not really. His lips brush over her temple and the top of her hair and that’s, somehow, even worse, or possibly better and Emma’s lost complete control of the situation.

She probably should have planned on that too.

“Can we play?” Roland shouts, wiggling against David and in a misplaced effort to get back on the ground. He’s still upside down.

“Only if you get on your feet, kid,” Robin grins. He hooks an arm around his son’s waist and David, somehow, gets kicked in the process, but Mary Margaret is laughing and Killian’s fingers are toying with the hem of Emma’s shirt.

Her face feels like it’s on fire.

She feels like she’s on fire.

Regina hasn’t moved off the landing.

“Do you have house rules, then?” Killian asks, following Henry towards the living room and there’s goddamn eggnog on ice like it’s champagne. “If Emma’s been cheating for years--” “--I have not been cheating for years,” Emma argues, but she’s meet with a chorus of ehhh and Killian’s impossibly close to her on the couch.

“You can’t sit there,” Henry says.

“What?” “You’re not supposed to sit next to me,” Emma mumbles. “Because--” “--Things have a tendency to get a little heated between romantic partners,” David explains. “Sometimes, you know...you want your girlfriend to get Draw Fours every single time.” “To this day, that’s the worst thing David’s ever done to me,” Mary Margaret says.

Emma rolls her eyes – partially because that may, actually, be true and partially because the whole thing is so sugary sweet she has a hard time believing it’s real. And she’s been living it for years. Killian’s eyes dart towards hers, like he’s waiting for her to tell him he can keep sitting next to the on the couch, but she shakes her head. “Them’s the rules,” she shrugs. “Plus, I’ll totally make more pirate jokes if you try to break tradition.” “You can sit here, Killian,” Roland yells, cross-legged on the floor next to Robin. Emma briefly considers dying. It’d probably be easier than dealing with the increasingly adorable and entirely unfair sight of Killian Jones on the ground in his sock-covered feet and he takes two cookies when Regina appears with a tray.

And he absolutely, positively cheats at UNO, but, for the life of her, Emma cannot figure out how.

It’s as if he’s got his own deck tucked up his sleeve – Draw Fours and a Skip on back-to-back turns that leaves Mary Margaret practically growling and David nearly cackling and Emma is certain she’s going to set a record for points at the end of the round because she somehow ends up staring at a Wild Draw Four on her final turn, with Killian holding his last card.

“Red,” he says, smile teasing and eyes glinting. She feels dizzy. She’s going to drink so much mulled wine later.

“No!” “Excuse me?” “No,” Emma repeats, voice going shrill and she’s going to do something drastic if he doesn’t control his tongue. There are kids around. Her friends are around. They aren’t actually dating.

“I think that means you’ve got to take a card, love.” “Oh, shut up.” “You really don’t have any red in that entire stockpile of yours?” “Shut up!” Killian grins – and absolutely does not move his tongue while Emma grabs at cards, picking up five before she gets a red. He laughs when she slams it down. “I think this means you lost,” he mutters, flipping his wrist to show his last card. Emma sticks her tongue out. That only makes him laugh more. “You put up an admirable fight, Swan.” “You cheated!” “You wound me. I would never.” She huffs, narrowing her eyes and Mary Margaret is laughing again. “How did you do it?” Emma presses, dropping her pile of cards unceremoniously when Regina announces lunch is ready.

“I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about, Swan,” Killian says. He offers her his hand when she moves to stand up, fingers warm as soon as they wrap around hers. “Aren’t you going to count your cards?” “I am not going to count my cards and you are not nearly as funny as you think you are.” “I think that’s breaking the rules of UNO, Swan.” “I’m going to punch you right in the face, I swear.” He makes an absolutely ridiculous noise that manages to linger in the realm of charming anyway, another press of something to the top of Emma’s hair. “I’m sure that’s the start of some Hallmark movie.”

“You think people get punched a lot in Hallmark movies?” “I don’t know that I’ve ever seen a Hallmark movie, actually. Add that to the date.”

Emma’s stomach lurches a bit at the casualness of that, but she doesn’t say anything – isn’t entirely sure she can and there are too many people around anyway, food to eat and eggnog to taste test and she’s helping Regina dry dishes a few hours later when she’s, almost, entirely prepared for the look on the woman’s face.

“You want to tell me what’s really going on?” Regina asks, not taking her eyes off the plate she’s scrubbing.

Emma tenses. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “Mary Margaret can’t keep a secret.” “Yuh huh.” “And you’d never bring home a guy you already went on a date with if that date didn’t end well. You’re not very good at second chances.” “Wow, that’s kind of harsh,” Emma mumbles, but it’s also kind of right and when Regina’s mom first married Mary Margaret’s dad she’d been chock-full of opinions just like that. About everything and everyone, particularly within the town lines of Storybrooke because Regina had grown up in Portland and that made her metropolitan and Emma had kind of hated her.

But then things had gotten worse and Cora was ten-thousand times more horrible than Regina and possibly why Regina was so horrible to start and there’d been divorce papers and tears and Mary Margaret stayed in Emma’s room for awhile and, eventually, Regina just kind of...mellowed out.

She occasionally still has very strong opinions.

“And totally true,” Regina says. “So, let’s have at it. What’s the real reason the guy who’s clearly obsessed with you is here?” Emma nearly drops the glass in her hand. “What?” “Don’t play dumb with me right now.” “I’m not.” “Emma.”

“Regina.” She turns her head, an appraising look that’s made only slightly ridiculous with a sponge in her hand. “Are you an idiot?” “Merry Christmas.” “So you are an idiot.” “Regina, I’m going to drink all your mulled wine later and ruin the Christmas Eve toast.” “You going to let Killian be part of the Christmas Eve toast?” Emma makes a noise in the back of her throat, a low and, she hopes, threatening growl that she’s positive doesn’t work when Regina’s eyebrows lift into a perfect arch. “I’ll think about it,” Emma mumbles. “And...we’re not really dating.” Regina drops the sponge.

“Ok, ok,” Emma says quickly, flipping the towel over her shoulder. “You can’t tell Mary Margaret because she’ll--” “--Flip out? What do you mean you aren’t dating?” “We never went on that bad date to begin with.” Regina’s mouth hangs open the entire time Emma explains the whole, convoluted thing, blinking as if she’s waiting to hear surprise shouted in her face. Her blinks reach hyperactive when that doesn’t, actually, happen.

“So, uh, that’s it,” Emma mutters with a shrug. “I just...I wasn’t thinking and possibly drunk and--” “--And he’s ridiculously into you,” Regina interrupts. “Do you not have eyes? You know where he is right now? Talking to Robin about the insurance premiums for our house. Fake boyfriends don’t ask about that.” “Well, I told him not to ask you about that so…”

“Emma,” Regina sighs. “What have you gotten yourself into?”

“An absolute disaster.”

“Yeah, it seems that way. Also, you’re making eyes right back.” “I don’t make eyes,” Emma hisses, but there are footsteps moving towards them and Robin’s voice echoing in the hall, something about the state of Maine and the American Revolution and Regina stares at her like that’s that. It kind of is. And then some.

She’s totally making eyes.

“Swan,” Killian says, slinging an arm around her shoulder. “Did you know there’s rumors this area was used a camp for Benedict Arnold when he marched to Quebec?” “No one knows that.” “Ok, I know that,” Robin counters. “Also Regina definitely knows that.” “Wasn’t Benedict Arnold a bad guy?” Emma asks, Killian already shaking his head.

“Not at the start, but Quebec certainly didn’t help. The whole thing was a disaster.” “This house had nothing to do with that,” Regina says, drawing a quiet laugh from Robin where he’s leaning against the doorway. “Also, if you two are done discussing history, we should probably get ready to get back to Granny’s. Does David have the wine?” Robin nods. “An entire vat.” “And waiting for someone to help me carry it,” David calls from the foyer. “Also I want to see what kind of pie Emma bought.”

Emma’s objection is sitting on the tip of her tongue, shouts and curses and decidedly un-Christmas thoughts, but Killian’s hand wraps around her shoulder and tugs her closer to his side and she’s making eyes again. “Let it be a surprise, huh?” he grins.

“Yeah, ok.” And, in the grand scheme of whatever cockamamie idea Emma came up with to make Christmas less annoying or stressful or something, standing in Granny’s with Killian’s arm around her and his fingers toying with her hair while every single person she’d ever considered important promised her Millionaire’s pie was delicious was an unexpected delight.

The muscles in her face were starting to ache, a soft pain that Emma would have accepted every day for the rest of her life it meant she got to feel like this every day for the rest of her life.

Like Christmas.

And loved.

And...she needed some mulled wine.

“Can we toast now?” Anna asks, hours later and the pie is gone and Granny’s food is, mostly, gone, the jukebox playing a steady stream of Christmas hits from 1972. “It’s my first official one.” “Anna, you’ve been toasting with us for actual years,” Elsa argues.

“Yeah, but I’m twenty-one now, so it’s more..real.”

Emma scoffs, already feeling a little drunk, particularly when she leans back against Killian’s chest. He hasn’t moved farther than a few inches away all night, all hands and arms and quiet touches that feel as if they’ve branded themselves on every inch of her. “What’s this about a toast, Swan?” he asks. “Oh, uh, we started doing it years ago as some kind of--” “--Misplaced effort to be rebels,” David laughs. He’s already got a handful of glasses and they’re tucked into the corner of the diner, as if they’re all about to get caught for underage drinking.

“Basically that,” Emma nods. “Mary Margaret’s mom had this old mulled wine recipe and M’s found it our freshman year in college. So we came home and made it and it was this giant secret--” “--That everyone knew about,” Robin adds.

“Also true. And it was horrible the first time, but that was, oh God, more than a decade ago and we kept making it every year and now it’s like Robin and Regina’s third child and--” “--Hey, I resent that.” “Because it’s also almost true,” Regina admits, crooking a finger at David until he hands her a glass. “So, really, Jones, us telling you this, means you’re part of the coven or whatever.” “Oh my God, Regina, we are not witches,” Elsa groans. “But seriously, Killian, if you drink this wine, you’re not allowed to tell anyone else about it. They still let us pretend like they don’t know what we’re doing back here.” Killian salutes, a wry smile tugging at his mouth and he has to switch arms to take the glass from David and keep touching Emma. Left arm. Left hand. She feels very drunk.

The feeling only grows after her first sip of the wine – definitely the best batch they’ve made, which probably isn’t a sign, but might be a sign and she’s certain she’s being warmed from the inside out, like she’s swallowed the goddamn sun at ten o’clock on Christmas Eve. It may or may not just be a direct result of Killian’s hand on the small of her back.

And David mumbles a few words, promises about the best year and the best town and Robin is morally obligated to make some cliché pun about the best friends if only so Elsa and Anna will groan in tandem. Emma’s going to sprain the muscles in her face.

So, really, she can’t be blamed for her actions when, after her second cup of mulled wine, she twists against Killian’s chest, looks up and mumbles “you want to get some air?” He nods. “I’d love that.”

It’s chilly when they step outside, a nip in the air that doesn’t require them to stand as close as possible, but Emma’s not going to argue it, particularly when she starts directing them towards the harbor and the semi-permanent breeze coming off the water.

She inhales, letting the scent of salt fill her lungs and mix with the wine and the pie and the Reese’s Christmas trees and Killian's eyes don’t leave her once, staring at the side of her head with something that feels distinctly like want.

“What’s your favorite Christmas memory?” Emma asks suddenly, and Killian’s eyes widen at the question. “You asked for my most scathing Christmas opinion before. Let’s get positive.” She swaying slightly, less from the wine and more from the moment, Killian taking a step into her space until both his hands land on her hips. “Are you drunk?” “I had two glasses of wine.” “Not an answer.” The breeze gets stronger, more salt and a surplus of feeling and Emma knows they’re balancing on something – possibly each other. She shakes her head. “Not at all. What’s your favorite Christmas memory?” “I was...eight? Around there. And, uh...my mom was still there and my dad was still there and they were showing It’s a Wonderful Life on TV. I was not interested at all, because I was eight and the movie was in black and white and I just wanted presents. But my mom was baking. She was in the kitchen and you know at the start when George goes to the dance?”

Emma nods, Killian’s tongue flashing between his lips when he takes a deep breath. “Well, George goes to the dance and Mary’s there and--”

“--The pool opens up.” “Exactly. But they dance. And I remember my dad going into the kitchen and, you know, he was mostly an asshole, but that was only after my mom was gone and he...he started dancing with her. Right there to the music on the TV and they got me and Liam to come in and it was a whole thing. Liam hated it at first. He was fifteen, way too cool for that.” “And you weren’t too cool?” Emma asks, desperate to keep her voice light.

Killian smirks at her. “Nah, I was eight. Plus, I realized rather quickly that’s how George got Mary to fall in love with him, so you know…” “That’s not true!” “What?” “That’s not true,” Emma repeats. “Mary loved George from the very beginning. When they were kids. She…” She trails off when she notices the look on Killian’s face, awe and surprise and something Emma absolutely can’t name because she’s not sure her heart can cope with that now. “Mary loved George the whole time. No matter what.”

Killian nods slowly, and Emma isn’t a science major either, but she’s certain the space between them disappears and time slows for a moment and they’re both swaying now. “Are we dancing?” she whispers, another nod and flash of a smile that feels as genuine as the pie recipe she’s fairly certain was his mother’s.

“I think so,” Killian says. They don’t say anything else for a moment, the sound of the ocean a not-so-quiet metronome that almost matches up with their breathing and Emma’s not sure what to do next, but she doesn’t want to move and--”That was the last Christmas we were all together,” Killian mutters. “She, uh...she got sick a couple months later and then my dad was gone like it was a magic act at Caesar’s and...Liam did his best, but…” “But?” “Harry Bailey was the younger brother, right?” “Yeah.” “Ah, well, in the Jones version of this, the older brother was the war hero and…there wasn’t a victory tour of whatever town they lived in.” “Bedford Falls,” Emma says.

“Why do you know that?” “I know everything.” He laughs, and the sound rattles down her spine, like it’s trying to connect to every one of her nerve endings. She feels him kiss the top of her hair when her head drops. “I’m starting to think you might,” Killian admits. “But, well, Liam was very responsible and he needed the money, so Navy as soon as he was eighteen and then I joined as soon as I was eighteen and it was good for awhile. Until it wasn’t and I don’t remember much of that either, but there were explosions and noise and he was gone and my hand was gone. A week before Christmas.” Emma blinks, the tears in her eyes absurd because it isn’t her story – but it feels kind of close to her story and they’re still dancing. “I’m glad you’re here,” she says again, because she can’t come up with anything else to say or anything else to do except kiss him, so she does that too.

Killian’s hands fly to her back, pulling her closer until her toes skim across the pavement. Her fingers dive into his hair, trying to keep him there or with her and the second one is only a little clingy for a relationship that isn’t that, but Emma is starting to think it might be that or could be that and she hopes.

She hopes more than...anything.

It’s different than it was the night before, not quite as charged or determined to prove something and that makes it even better. It’s want and need and settling into something, common ground and disappointment and Emma can taste chocolate and mulled wine on his tongue when she opens her mouth against him.

That makes it less simple.

She feels as if she’s been sparked, a rush of electricity through her veins and Killian groans when she pushes up further on her toes, letting her nails move over the back of his neck. And Emma’s not sure how it can seem as if he’s everywhere, but every inch of her appears to be combusting or on fire and they need to move.

Her shoulders are heaving by the time she pulls away from him, the blue in his gaze barely there. “We, uh…” “Yeah, ok.” They don’t run and it’s not quite brisk, but it’s not a walk either and the few feet that encompass downtown Storybrooke have never felt longer. Emma exhales when she clicks the lock of the B&B room open, taking a steady step in that makes her feel far more confident than she actually is. That lasts as long as it takes for Killian to spin her around, shoulders colliding with the now closed door and hips canting up and it’s a whole lot of words that Emma is hopeful she’d be able to come up with if her brain weren’t preoccupied with directing her hands towards Killian’s pants.

She’s not entirely sure how they move without inadvertently elbowing each other, but there’s something to be said for enthusiasm and laughing in the middle of all of this makes all of this seem even more...more.

Emma nearly takes out one of the nautical themed lamps when she kicks off her boots, drawing a laugh out of Killian. It turns into a groan when she pushes him towards the bed, knocking off pillows and blankets and the mattress creaks again. “If I get in trouble for breaking anything in here, I’m blaming you,” she warns, the threat feeling a little disingenuous when she’s trying to get his shirt off.

And he’s trying to unbuckle her pants.

They’re a tangle of limbs and the ends of Emma’s hair gets caught under his left shoulder blade at some point, but there are kisses too and smiles and every single one seems to join the trove of memories she’s hoarding in the back corner of her brain.

He’s stupid good looking.

Killian freezes when she, finally, does get his shirt off, eyes flitting towards the brace at the end of his hand. “Swan, I…” he starts, but she shakes her head and she can hear his jaw clack when he snaps it closed.

“I’m really glad you’re here.”

He smiles at her. “I wanted to be here.” And that’s not what does it, not really – they’re already naked for God's sake and Emma’s trying to pull a condom out of her wallet without ruining the mood, but that may be part of it and, eventually, she will ask him why he wanted. Her. Or this. Eventually. Maybe tomorrow.

She’s a little preoccupied when Killian pulls her back up, grinning from a small pile of pillows and that one, particular noise he makes as soon as she rocks her hips forward is better than anything Emma could have ever dreamed up. She’s glad it’s not a dream.

It’s later, moonlight streaming through gauzy curtains and wooden blinds and Emma’s head rests on Killian’s chest, fingers toying across the planes of his stomach. “Merry Christmas, love,” he whispers, squeezing her hand.

He doesn’t let go even when she falls asleep.

#cs ff #captain swan #captain swan ff #cs #cs fic #festive fic #THE DANCING IS A METAPHOR YO