#fendae

Fake dating

It had been years since they had gone on a real date-- or at the very least, one that didn’t end with Fendae feeling paraded around like a trophy or prized possession. At times, it seemed like they weren’t even a couple anymore. Jannadis must’ve picked up on his discontent because on the day of their anniversary she surprised him with a kiss and a gift in bed.

“What is it?” Fendae asked, carefully picking up one of the folded masses of smooth black muslin, streaked with what had to be real silver. 

Jannadis practically purred, snaking an arm around his waist. “It’s to replace your old leathers, and its more presentable for you to wear when we’re at court or entertaining.”

The cloth in his hand slipped and suddenly took the form of a shirt-- with stitching he recognized as Jannadis’ own hand. “I like my leathers. I can’t work in these--”

“Love, you don’t need to.” She made it sound so casual, but his blood ran cold.

Bodyswap

His body was so much bigger than hers, than his should even naturally be. Fendae had always been short for a blood elf, edging on more human proportions than elven-- but what he had lacked in height he made up for in mass. The wings that draped from his back were so huge Jannadis couldn’t even figure out what to do with them, and with the dainty little hooves where feet should be-- she couldn’t even get her feet under her. The most she could accomplish was to sit sulkily with her shoulders drawn up, leaning forward on her hands while those god-awful wings splayed out awkwardly in the dirt It was humiliating, and Jannadis felt her slender, fur-tipped tail lash in response to that humiliation.

Behind her, she almost-- almost-- heard her own voice laugh. 

Dark!fic

Something was trying to press out of the scars on Fendae’s back; his muscles were attempting to turn inside out in protest of-- of whatever this was. He twisted in on himself and writhed, sending blankets and cushions sliding off the bed, sd if he could escape the sensation of a building pressure in his gut, his back, his mind, by physically escaping his own body.

Vaguely, at the edge of his periphery and the edge of his sanity, Jannadis knelt at his side and he saw seven dripping tentacles flow seemingly from her own back-- before his mind rejected the notion and he violently turned away, hands curling around his head.

A piercing cold hand touched his back and Fendae shuddered as the shadows rolling off her in waves edged on the inescapable pressure. “It’s okay, love,” she said, softer and kinder than he’d ever heard her before, the words seeming to echo in his mind. “It hurts now. But it won’t soon. Once you let It in, you won’t hurt ever again.”

Secret kinks

“That’s hardly polite to ask of a lady.”

Their first kiss

Breaking the kiss felt like surfacing for air, and almost immediately Jannadis wanted to dive down again. Even as she pulled back to breathe, she couldn’t help smiling as Fendae-- the cute, chubby, House-less elf before her-- automatically tipped towards her before blinking dazedly and stopping.

Meeting the parents

Fendae never spoke of his mother of father, and Jannadis wouldn’t even admit she’d had a childhood. As far as the other was concerned, they had both sprung into existence as fully formed adult elves-- and, sometimes, Fendae wondered if that wasn’t actually true of Jannadis.

Moving in together

He set his bags down gently, just inside the front door. “Are you sure about this?”

“Of course.” Jannadis replied without looking at him. “Silvermoon is far more secure than Orgrimmar. You’ll be safer here in the coming turmoil.”

It didn’t feel safer, with every guard watching their own citizens like vultures and every arcane construct crowing the good name of Lord Kael’thas Sunstrider at each archway, street corner, and public area. As they arrived, Fendae had seen a common citizen pulled aside and held at arrest just inside the gate-- the guards told them to step aside, while the man begged for help.

OC most likely to:

fall asleep literally anywhere

natia!! sometimes its almost a problem lmao because she’ll fall asleep anywhere she wants regardless of the safety of it “because its comfortable.” alistair has a heartattack at least once, while zev thinks its fucking hilarious and if it was the modern day he’d take selfies w/ natia whenever she was sleeping somewhere strange b/c she felt just slightly tired and wanted a nap

get a really crappy tattoo and immediately regret it

Mythandragos absoLUTELY. especially in the early days of Pyrolorn, when he gets tattoos to cope w/ shit. usually he could just get Lumi to do them so it’d be easy to get talked out of a bad one, but whenever it’d be too revealing during the process and Myth had to go to someone else?? he definitely has a couple shitty tattoos he really regrets.

steal free samples

definitely absolutely Portia lemme tell you WHAT. if people didn’t want their food taken, why are they leaving it out for anyone and-- this is the best part-- INVITING, even ASKING people to take it?? lmao check and mate u fucks its his food now

take selfies at inappropriate times

Sprik 300%, and i have nothing else

get into an argument with an animal

Lathrine in every single universe she has ever existed in.   

use any and all excuses to take off articles of clothing

Trig, surprisingly, but not her own because she doesnt take clothes off. thats not smthn she does. she will, however, use any excuse she can to take Ha’iel’s clothing off so? theres that!

prank call people

ALSO Sprik, but also Ozula? if phones existed during the golden age of piracy lmao so i guess she’d like, leave bags of burning poop in people’s doorways. very becoming of kobold nobility and demigodess. (sprik goes out of her way to prank call people over projections or mind-speak, so they can’t ignore her.)

have had an embarrassing middle-school emo phase

☯ : Do they believe for every darkness there is a lightness? If not, why?

“If there is no darkness in the world,” Fen said, so softly he couldn’t even hear himself, “then the Light and good things would lose their meaning. We need that reference to make sense of-- of everything. There has to be balance, on both sides. If there isn’t, then this... was all for nothing.” A hand gently touched his shoulder, then a moment later Acalithel pulled him into a tight embrace.

☛ : What is their typical response to being given orders?

When the butler straightened Fendae’s shirt and sent him to offer the guests drinks and finger foods, he went with a soft smile and a softer step, like a ghost given physical form. Always available and nearby, yet never obtrusive or an inconvenience.

When the cooked called Fendae to help in the kitchens, he sat on a stool peeling potatoes and stirring the giant soup pot until his arms ached and his butt went numb.

When the master leatherworker he was apprenticed to dropped a pile of leathers in front of him and told him to get to work, Fendae cut and sewed and dyed until the sun rose. 

Really, the Illidari were no different. The time Fendae spent making a plan that got everyone in and out safely could be totalled into months. Much of it was spent pulling more experienced fighters and soldiers aside, into a quiet room where he could ask for their opinions, their experiences, and expertise. 

✄ : Are there any reasons why they would ever think of self-harm? If so, what are they?

The shadows were the worst. Even with the strange half-sight some demon hunters bore, Fendae could still see the shadows moving in unnatural, eldritch ways. Never head on, only out of his periphery. Enough to make sure he never forgot-- the sort of flippant, casual neglect and abuse and manipulation that somehow hurt more than if it had been intentional, because then at least he would’ve mattered enough for her to make an effort. The scars torn into his back, his shattered self image, how he never felt competent, never felt like he was enough-- whether it was-- was his abilities, or his appearance, or his sexual prowess. He couldn’t even escape properly, or so that nasty little voice that sounded low and sweet told him. He didn’t even cut things off to her face, instead waiting until she’d left the continent to just-- what, up and vanish? Gouge his eyes out, get tattoos, join a cult?

Denying himself the energies his very soul craved was the easiest way to cope. She would’ve known if he did anything too apparent, she always did, and anyone found out... they couldn’t ever claim he was anything but an upstanding member of the post-Kael’Thas blood elf race. 

✓ : Name at least two people who can trust them with their life.

Even after their knock-down drag out fight, Fendae protectively circled the skies over Tyrnael. He perched on rocks and trees and ruins, wings resting at his side and tail swishing gently as he cast out with his spectral sight for-- for anything, really. Anything that might try to get the jump on her-- on them-- or anything that might turn into a problem. In combat, he kited and harried and dashed in the way of anything Tyrnael’s giant mountain of a demon couldn’t move quick enough to block.

If Fendae had been at the Temple during the siege, he would’ve laid down his life to protect Xandral and his clan from-- from the Illidari, from the felorcs, from the invading armies. From everyone. But Fendae hadn’t been at the Temple. So when another draenai shaman appeared, a hearthealer from a Draenor slightly shifted over from their own who offered his services and healing waters, Fendae's focus shifted before he even knew the man’s name.

✉ : Do they tend to rely on words or actions more?

All her velvety shadows and soft, seductive touches meant nothing to him. Not when her words made the truth so very, very clear-- the thoughtless remarks she made just infrequently enough for them to continually catch him off guard. How there was no point in continuing his apprenticeship because, after all, he had her. Yes the Plague was unfortunate, but Lordaeron wasn’t really a loss, not after how they had treated their elven “allies”. He should really wear that outfit she sewed for him more often, he looked so much better in it than in anything else he wore. Maybe he didn’t feel like it right now, but she wanted sex, so pretty please? Wouldn’t he just this once, it would be so quick...?