#aeruthien

It's going to be an ongoing process. Shit was bad for several years and so recovering from that is going to take a long time, and also, while the deterioration of various D&D signalling conventions in C3 is a contributing factor, I think some of this is also that Brennan is a relatively new DM to most of the cast with the exception of Aabria (in that he's DM-ed for them a few times and someone they are friends with and trust, but like, Matt DM-ed for the founding cast for over ten years), and that at least when it comes to combat, even if Brennan is extremely clear, some trepidation is expected because the world is not level-scaled. It's hard to tell right now however because it's not an issue of making bold choices in combat, really. I know I used combat as an example because the Otohan fight was so bad, but really, what that fight did was say "If you do an out of combat action that seems really clearly signaled (rescuing Treshi) this might be met with a violent fight that kills half the party" and also "you might get killed because someone else did or did not do something that was wildly unclear to everyone at the table." Combat is kind of a safe space in D&D, for the most part, in that it's much more bound by actual rules rather than convention.

What I'm watching for - and I think for a number of reasons the other tables will not be quite as susceptible (Seekers because Ashley was the only player in C3; Schemers because I think Luis's experience will be a stabilizing presence and Taliesin, Liam, and Marisha all have more D&D experience and specifically more DM-ing experience than Sam, Travis, and Laura) - is out of combat situation where the group is unable to make a decision for something that seems pretty clear cut from my outside obviously subjective but also, experienced in D&D and specifically D&D convention, perspective.

(Let's bring back some of those TO vibes 😁)

Oh girl the TO vibes are never far ❤️

Set in canonverse shortly after Henrik’s death

Funerals are not meant to be quiet affairs. There is a reason they burn the body on a roaring pyre. There is a reason they feast afterward—it is a celebration of a warrior’s life, a toast to what he goes on to after this world.

There is nothing to celebrate about a fourteen-year-old boy’s death.

He did not lose his life in battle. He did not sacrifice himself for the greater good.

It was a senseless slaughter.

And Niklaus is to blame.

At least, that is what their father says. That is what Niklaus believes.

Elijah watches Niklaus across the flickering flames of their little brother’s pyre. His face is empty.

Under his right eye a bruise flares, angry and swollen. Elijah can only guess that Father gave him this prize. A reminder.

As if the burning body is not enough.

Rebekah loops her arm through his. Leans her head on her shoulder, their blond hair weaving together as if one.

He does not turn, does not acknowledge her. His hands remain clasped in front of him.

…

The feast is not as raucous as it is meant to be. Father roves about, his hearty cries more angry than joyous.

Niklaus is nowhere to be found.

Elijah first goes to Rebekah. “Where is he?”

She need not ask who he means. “Not here.” Her cheeks are streaked with tears.

Elijah wipes them away as best he can before leaving her.

Mother kneels in front of a fire. Neither cooking nor eating. It almost looks like she is praying. To what god, to what end, Elijah cannot guess.

Elijah finds his brother by the stream. Away from the village. Away from everyone. His knees are drawn to his chest, body curled tight around them as if he hopes to disappear.

Sorry, brother. I will always find you.

He sits beside Niklaus, leaving a little space between them. Inviting Niklaus to close the gap.

Instead he scoots further away.

“Have you eaten anything?”

Niklaus is silent.

“You should eat.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t want to.”

“Penitence, brother?”

“I’m not hungry.” He stares straight ahead, not looking at Elijah.

Elijah lays his hand gently over Niklaus’s. “You cannot blame yourself. This is not your fault.”

“So they keep telling me. Mother, Rebekah. Even Tatia said so.”

“They’re right.”

“They’re liars, Elijah. None of them believe what they’re saying.”

“Niklaus—”

He jerks, throwing off Elijah’s hand. “Why are you here, brother? Will you lie to me as well?” His question is fierce, venomous with accusation, but the hurt in his eyes is like an ocean.

“I’m here,” Elijah falters. “Because I was worried.” Because I care for you. Because I can’t stand to see you in pain. Because you’re my brother.

Because I love you.

“Don’t be, if that’s all you’re here to do,” he spits.

“Then what do you want from me? Tell me, Niklaus.” Tell me so I can make it better.

“Tell me the truth,” he whispers. “Tell me it was my fault.”

Elijah is already shaking his head. Niklaus turns to face him, his expression full of pain. “Go on. Tell me I deserve to die, tell me it should have been me.”

“Brother—”

“It should have been!” His voice is half-scream by now. “You’re too blind or stupid or cowardly to say it, but you know.”

He sounds drunk, but Elijah can’t smell any ale on his breath.

He hasn’t been sleeping, Elijah knows. This could be exhaustion.

Or it’s just grief. Niklaus is drunk on grief.

Elijah grasps his brother’s jaw between his hands. “I will not. Niklaus.”

Niklaus stares at him blankly, eyes clouded with tears that will not fall. “Why not,” he whispers.

Elijah has no answer.

Their faces are so close Elijah can feel warm breath on his face.

There is no justifying what Elijah does next. Born out of a desperate desire to cull the screaming despair in Niklaus’s eyes—a need that goes underneath his skin, into the very blood they share.

He leans forward and presses his lips against his brother’s.

Niklaus’s lips are dry but somehow still soft. He does not move as Elijah kisses him, though his lips tremble.

Elijah inhales his brother’s scent, so familiar to him. Wild and sweet at the same time.

He allows himself three beats of silence before he pulls back, their lips parting with a soft pop.

Niklaus stares at him, a flicker of shock in that empty expression. His lips part, mouth soundlessly, as if searching for something to say—or searching for that comfort again.

Elijah offers him a little smile.

Niklaus seizes his jaw in one hand, his neck in the other, and pulls Elijah in for another kiss.

He’s rougher. Almost angry, and certainly desperate in the way his lips collide with Elijah’s. Devouring, searching. His tongue presses against Elijah’s teeth. Savoring.

Elijah freezes—but only for a second. His brother is alive under his hands, and that is worth any fear crawling in his heart. He cups Niklaus’s cheeks more firmly between his hands and kisses back.

Elijah kept their first kiss relatively chaste, but Niklaus does not do the same. He laps at Elijah like a parched, dying man drinks from a well. His breath is hot and frenzied against Elijah’s skin, the warmth of his hands building a film of sweat between them.

“Wh—” Elijah gasps. He doesn’t tear himself away, not completely. He won’t, not when Niklaus is showing more life than he has since he stumbled home with his brother’s body in his arms. “What are we doing?”

Niklaus hums, a noise that is half whimper and half moan. “I don’t know.” He pants into Elijah’s mouth, tongue lingering on his older brother’s lips.

His fingers lock in Elijah’s hair. Tethering them together.

“But please don’t stop.”

Thank you so much for sending this! ♥️♥️

8. Things you said when you were crying

Rebekah watches Hayley bury her head in her hands, listens to her wracked sobs and her expression crumbles.

It might have been a small time they got acquainted but Hayley is her family. She fit right in, Rebekah thought fondly through the twist in her chest. With her fierceness and anger that could destroy worlds and the way she looked beautiful and right with the blood on her lips. 

Rebekah wanted to make her feel better—rip off the grief right from her, and get back her Hayley, but didn’t know what to say. What could she?

There were no right words for a mother who lost her child. (Hope was alive but she was somewhere far away with Elijah and with no way to get back—She’s dead in all the ways that counts.)

Sliding closer Rebekah places her hand on Hayley’s back and pulls into a half hug. It’s awkward and Rebekah doesn’t know what she’s doing. Elijah was the one who kept their family glued together while Klaus and her broke everything. She doesn’t know the first thing about comforting someone. But—

It seems like it’s enough. Hayley shifts, presses her head on to her shoulder and grips her fingers on Rebekah’s arms. The wetness that drenches her shirt is uncomfortable, Rebekah grimaces, but—she can at least do that for Hayley. It’s nothing compared to the way Hayley looks small in her arms. So small, and trembling so much that Rebekah is trembling too. (Telling herself that’s the only reason.)

Rebekah doesn’t say anything, no promises, no empty lies. Those words would hurt more than what she’s feeling right now. She just holds her, lends a shoulder—leans perhaps more than she should, it’s hard not to with Hayley this close to—and hopes it’s enough. 

28 - What are their vacations like?

OH YES!! They definitely do have vacations; it’s an absolute. Especially with the family got, they need a breather. Sometimes Hope comes along, sometimes she doesn’t.

I see them going on quiet vacations that stretch out for 2 weeks or maybe a bit more. It’s gonna be soooo romantic, haha. They indulge a lot in stuff that they usually don’t have space to do in a whole compound with hundred-year vampires that act like kids, and taking care of Hope.

They sleep a lot—and by that I meant actual literally sleeping lol but they do a lot of the other one too ;)—are so lazy and relax in bed. Sharing stories, and just being together. Elijah tries to get Hayley to eat some dishes that he picked up from the years and maybe even try to teach Hayley to making it. Going about how particular and how it needs precision and such but really he’s spouting bullshit. After many failures, Hayley manages to make one...and it’s not the same but it’s similar. It’s about the memories for them, building them up, about the simplicity of watching Elijah roll his sleeves and get to working. And playing silly, and marking each other with the food.

They also definitely go on dates! They have this fun thing where one tries to plan a whole day to a specific theme that the other picks. And of course, we gotta that have that date that is an epic failure. <3

Despite how they are using this vacation time to be alone, the family always calls each day and it’s a disaster as always. But a nice chaos.

Can’t forget the super romantic dinner evenings like the one that Elijah planned in the start of s4. AND DANCING. Dancing is a must.

35 - Do they bring out the best in each other, or the worst? Do they have a fatal flaw?

This is a hard question haha

DGJDKFF I tried but couldn’t answer this question. My thoughts were all scattered over lol and didn’t make no sense

Oh boy, klebekah it is: (I was expecting you to send this aeru 😂♥️)

i’m gonna go with 19. “The paint’s supposed to go where?” and say it’s a missing scene from S03E08 

Lucifer is listening to the spawn babble on in muted horror. When he’d agreed to spend time with Chloe board games weren’t exactly what he’d had in mind. Chloe, the minx, is poorly concealing her humor at his distress.

“And Nana bought me a body paint kit we can try, too!” Trixie says excitedly.

Well, now, that catches his attention. Ideas of Chloe being his very own personal canvass does have its appeal.

“The paint’s supposed to go where?” he asks, raising his brows at his detective in pretend surprise.

“On your face, Lucifer,” Chloe says sternly, puncturing a hole in his fantasy. 

He scoffs. “Not on mine, certainly.” 

Trixie pouts. Chloe intervenes gracefully. “Let’s do you first, monkey. What do you want on your face?”

“A tiara!” Trixie shouts. Lucifer winces at the volume, but pulls a stool over. Chloe cracks open the kit and studies the myriad of colors while he peers over her shoulder. 

Chloe selects a few brushes, “What color?” she asks her daughter. 

“Pink!”

Chloe smiles and pulls out a pink and a slightly darker purple. Lucifer studies the proceedings with a unfolding sense of curiosity. There’s a moment were Chloe stares at Trixie, absently chewing on her bottom lip. It distracts him enough he’s startled when Chloe finally leans forward and begins painting. 

Trixie giggles and squirms.

“Be still, you little monstrosity,” he says and it sounds far fonder than he intends. “You’ll ruin your mother’s handy work.”

Trixie goes obediently still while Chloe paints a crown across her forehead and then outlines it in the darker color with careful strokes. She leans back.

“There.” Chloe grins at her efforts.

Lucifer frowns. “Not much of a crown, though, is it? Where is the shine? The precious stones?” 

He passes Chloe to look at the kit, seeing containers of glitter, skin safe glue and small little bits of pretend jewels. “Here,” he says, handing them to her. She looks at him with an expression he’s not sure he can place, something soft and amused, but she tucks it away before he can get a full read on it. 

“You do the jewels, I’ll do the glitter,” Chloe says, and that’s a fine enough compromise. Trixie looks at the end results and squeals happily. 

“Now, you, Mommy!” Trixie insists. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Chloe hedges, but Lucifer won’t let her escape that easily.

“Come now, Detective. You wouldn’t want to disappoint the spawn, now would you?” and they both turn the fill force of their big brown eyes against her. Chloe caves. 

“Oh, alright.” She clambers up on the stool and sits there with the air of a woman condemned. Trixie giggles. 

Lucifer looks down at Beatrice. “So, what deviant thing are you to paint on your mother’s skin?”

“A flower,” Trixie decides, and that’s completely boring, but he supposed he couldn’t expect the child to have much imagination. “And I think you should do it, Lucifer. You’re a better painter.” 

Lucifer blinks in surprise and glances over at Chloe uncertainly. “I’m not sure…”

Chloe takes his hand and squeezes it. “It’s fine, Lucifer.”

He shores himself up. “Very well, then.” He selects two brushes and a reddish pink color for the petals of the flower. Choosing which flower is the harder part, but he elects for something simple. He steps in closer, between her legs, and ignores the swoop of arousal in his belly. It is neither the time, nor the place.

He places a hand at her jaw and she goes still. Then he lifts a brush to the the paint and drags it carefully across the skin of her cheek. He takes his time, using delicate strokes to form the flower. Switching brushes and colors, he adds a bit of greenery, little leaves on the side. Then he dips the handle end of the brush in a soft yellow and adds the center with a careful press. 

“There you are, Detective. A flower.” She slides off the stool and it brings her entirely too close. He clears his throat and takes a step back. She walks over to the nearby mirror and stares at it. He feels oddly nervous. 

“It’s beautiful, Lucifer.”

“You should do a whole crown of them!” Trixie jumps and and down. 

“I don’t think that’s really necessary -” Lucifer begins.

“I’ll give you a sucker if you do,” Trixie promises slyly. 

Lucifer’s protests halt. “What kind of sucker?” he asks with narrowed eyes.

“The good kind,” she replies, and then, in truly devious fashion, pulls one out and shows him. A lollipop candy colored in swirls of pink. 

Lucifer hums thoughtfully. “Only if your mother gets one as well, since she will be sitting while I work.” 

“Deal,” Trixie confirms. 

Lucifer angles himself back towards Chloe and holds a hand out towards the stool. “If you would,” he directs. She seems more indulgent than upset as she once again takes a seat. 

He takes his time, constructing flower after flower so that they span over her brows. Every once in a while he can feel her eyes on him as he works, but for the most part they remain closed and relaxed. He adds little flourishes, lines of lighter color out from the center of the flower, leaves here and there, finishing with a trail of light dots that complete the crown.

He steps back and her eyes flutter open, a moment of stillness between them.

“Wow! That looks so cool!” Trixie praises and hands over his payment. He takes it and passes one of the sweets to Chloe.

Hmm…

No, I hate them.

Okay, let me qualify—I think that they could be a dumpster fire together that I’d love to see crash and burn (which is what happens in canon) but the fact remains that I’m not all that interested in Lucien as a character.

He immediately rubs me the wrong way in canon. I hate when stories do the thing where they introduce a new character as a Very Old Very Good Friend—that we’ve never heard of. (No, Marcel doesn’t count as that. Shut up. Marcel is perfect.)

His dynamic with Klaus isn’t unique in almost any way—it’s echoed by many other, better character dynamics across TO. And (SPOILERS) the fact that he turned out to be truly and completely evil by the end kind of retroactively kills any interest I had in him. His plan all along was to kill the Mikaelsons? Boo, boring. Go to tvd with such a pedestrian goal.

Actually, I think the best way to enjoy Klucien is that very, very brief moment where Lucien is human, hates Klaus, knows Klaus is a vampire, and tries to kill him—yet is still wounded and crying and must be comforted by Klaus. That is objectively their most interesting dynamic and it’s a shame it didn’t last longer than a scene. It’s about the POWER IMBALANCE, y’all! The hatred, the futility of that hatred! And yet there’s still something there, underneath the hate.

Hello my love 🥰

D - A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t.

EdLing. I see it a lot, and it is cute! I just can’t…there’s nothing there. It’s an empty ship that’s only popular because the only other gay pairings for Ed are his brother or his boss, and we can’t have that in our good Christian anime, can we? Never mind that Ed and Ling have a grand total of what, two adventures together? Before Ling is possessed and the two don’t meet again properly until the end of the story. Great basis for a “best friends to lovers” narrative. (Not to mention Ed sees him as a helpful nuisance at best)

No hate to the shippers, I really wish I could enjoy it beyond “aww,” but…I can’t. There’s a mental block.

H - What is your favorite source text for fandom stuff (e.g., TV shows, movies, books, anime, Western animation, etc.)?

Typically tv shows! But I have been slowly branching out into anime, and the CR campaigns have been calling my name for a while now…

J - Name a fandom you didn’t think about until you saw it all over Tumblr. (You don’t have to care about it or follow it; it just has to be something that Tumblr made you aware of.)

Answered here! But I’ll do another one—grishaverse. I had no idea what all these six of crows posts were about and why everyone seemed to know what they were except me. I’ve watched the Netflix show and I’ll probably watch the second season, but I can’t find the books in audio form anywhere so they probably won’t get read for a while, at least.

V - Which character do you relate to most?

Nobody! I do not look for myself in characters 😂

This is a bit of an exaggeration—I recognize bits of myself in fictional characters, but no one I point to and go “me.”

Like, I’ll relate to Aang and his anxiety, procrastination, and avoidant behaviors—but he likes adventuring and meeting new people, which I…don’t. I relate to Elijah’s sense of duty, his seriousness and self-blame, but I don’t have his attachment problems. I relate to Lydia’s intelligence and desire to fit in, but I could never mask myself so well, nor do I care to.

So yeah. Idk how to answer this one properly. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯