Elam - Tumblr Posts
Halloween fic - chapter 1
I don’t think anyone really cares about this but I’m dumping my dumb moden AU Halloween fic about my dnd character in here because I’m emotional and I want to bother people with talks about him.
No beta, not even a true review and I won’t pretend I have a fixed schedule in mind to post this. I have to chapters done, the others will come. Maybe. At some point.
Anyway have axiety wizard part 1/?
MxM modern AU, no magic but also kinda with magic, anxiety, 2553 words
Rating: currently G, but there will be fucking
Elam accidentally summons a devil in his room.
The soft, plush carpet isn’t doing much to shield from the cold and hard surface of the floor tiles below, and despite his best efforts, Elam is forced, once again, to shift his position in the desperate research of a comfortable arrangement.
With a defeated sigh, he opens his eyes and gets up, tiptoeing his way around the incense holder and the colored candles scattered in the room, trying to reach the window aided only by the flickering light of the small flames.
It takes a long time, longer than if he had just turned the light on, but he finally manages to reach his destination and crack the window open, shivering as the cold air crashes into him. For a couple of minutes, he just stands there, elbow propped on the windowsill to support his chin as he lets the stale air in the room flow out.
For all his fascination with the occult, he should have known that spirit work wasn’t the right practice for him. Already during his research, the amount of meditation suggested had him internally (and often externally) groaning. The idea of sitting still without doing anything was already daunting by itself, but emptying his mind? Not thinking about anything? He doesn’t even know how to start to do that.
He gets up from his position at the window only when he has to stifle what is probably the tenth yawn of the evening (note for the future: next time don’t try meditation late at night after a long day) and decides, eyelids heavy, that this is enough magic practice for the night.
He barely has time to undress and messily fold the clothes on the desk chair before he launches himself on the soft duvet and he’s falling asleep to the gentle patter of rain starting to fall.
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When he wakes up it’s to the deep rumbling of thunder and for a couple of seconds he can feel the panic rising, the sound of the storm outside the open window mixing in his head with the screams and the sound of the sirens, a memory and a leftover of his nightmare.
He forces himself to breathe deeply, hand clenching on the duvet cover trying to pull himself back in his room.
He has to keep his eyes closed and just breathe slowly for a couple of minutes before he feels the frantic beat of his heart subsiding and he dares to slowly open his eyes.
The difference is barely perceptible at first, it’s late at night (3.54 am, his phone helpfully informs him after he manages to find it where he tossed it on the bed just a couple of hours before) and the little he can see is only thanks to the distant light of the streetlamps outside and the intermittent flash of lightings.
He belatedly realizes he’s shivering, having fallen asleep on top of his sheets wearing only his boxers, and when he gets up to find something to cover up, he almost steps into one of the candles he forgets to put out and tidy before going to sleep. The idea of candles left unattended spikes his anxiety once again and, as he treads towards the corner in the room where he knows he dropped a hoodie at some point the night before, the sensation of discomfort lingers, and swell, skin prickling with the feeling and the thought that something in the small room is amiss.
He carefully looks around, trying to spot what exactly is wrong, and he can’t stop the scream when in the opposite side of the room, scarily close to the foot of his bed, a pair of glowing eyes alight with the next flash of lighting. The deep shadows engulfing the corner shift and move at the scream, gliding away from a huge humanoid shape like water.
The already towering figure slowly stands, movements careful, until the tip of the curved horns sprouting from raven black hair is scraping at the ceiling and Elam takes a step back, blood thundering in his ears as panic spikes up for the third time since he abruptly woke up.
There’s a puff of breath from the figure, a laugh maybe, before it moves toward the smaller men, crossing the room in just a couple of large and surprisingly careful steps to crouch in front of him, face just a handful of centimeters from Elam’s pale with fear one.
If the inhuman nature of the creature wasn’t already obvious before the next flash of lighting eliminates all doubts when it reveals the sharp features of the creature, and the big tusks sprouting from his lower lip; at the sight, the smaller man open his mouth, maybe to scream, maybe to plead for his life, but all he manages to produce is a small whine of fear as blood rushes to his head and the world starts to spin, plunging back into darkness.
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When Elam wakes up it’s to the chirping of birds and the soft rays of dawn; he arches his back in a lazy stretch, before curling up under the soft blankets draped over his almost naked form. Slowly, eyes still closed, memories of the weird dream he had the night before starting to trickle in. Something about storms and devils.
“Oh, you’re waking up, finally!” the voice is deep and rumbly, if somewhat cheerful, and completely unexpected. With a startled yelp Elam sits up, crawling in the further corner of the bed, blanket held up as if hoping to use it as a shield from the huge creature awkwardly sitting at the side of his bed.
Now, at the light of the sun, Elam can finally notice all the details he missed the night before, both because of the dark and the panic. To his dismay, he didn’t imagine the sharp tusks and curled horns, and now with the first rays of the sun, he can finally really appreciate how utterly inhuman the creature looks, all sharp claws and marked greenish-gray skin, more akin to a lichen-covered statue than a human. And there’s a pair of huge leathery wings sprouting from his back.
How the fuck did I miss the wings
Before he can say anything else the creature speaks, lifting his hands as to signal his good intentions.
“Calm down, I have no intentions to harm you” he pauses a second, to gauge the reaction of the smaller men, and not noticing any shift in the behavior he continues slowly, trying to keep his deep voice as calm and reassuring as possible
“You’re smart, right? - he matches the words with a small nod to the pile of textbooks on his desk - don’t you think that, if I had any intention to harm you, I would have done so in the two hours I’ve been sitting here?”
Elam, still curled up on the bed, doesn't exactly relax, but he can hear his heartbeat slowing down and the deepest, more convinced, intake of breath as he manages to somewhat stop his rising panic. When he finally speaks his voice is still shaky
“What are you? And why are you in my room?”
there’s an amused smile on the creature’s face now, as he points to the candles and incense still scattered around the room
“Weren’t you the one trying to contact a devil yesterday?” against all common sense for the situation, Elam blushes at the words and buries himself more in the blanket
“I...I was trying to contact a spirit! And...I didn’t...I wasn’t expecting one to appear in my fucking room!” the words are followed by a deep thoughtful hum from the creature
“Mh and what were you expecting then?”
“I don’t know! Uhm...visions? Earing some shit? Some furniture moving at best! Not...what are you doing still here” the creature, the devil, burst in a mirthful laugh at that, and suddenly amid all the panic Elam is also pissed
“What is your name, boy?” deciding against pointing out the missing answer to his question, or the weird nicknames, Elam squints at the request, suspicious
“I’m not…” the devil interrupt him with an almost pained groan
“Oh come on! What am I supposed to do with your name?”
“Why don’t you give me your name first, then?”
“Zolas” the answer comes quickly and sure and the sith eating grin accompanying the word for some reason makes Elam furious, still he hesitates, even in the face of the obvious challenge in the devil’s voice
“So? Listen I’m not a fae, I don’t know what you think but…”
“Elam” the devil smiles brightly, and it would almost be cute if not for the unnerving sight of the sharp tusks
“There you go! Elam. I like that.” he relaxes another bit at the words, letting the duvet fall and pool up in his lap, apparently convinced the devil isn’t going to murder him for now (or resigned to the fact that soft goose feathers aren’t going to stop him if he decides to), and exhales another slow, measured breath
“So...Zolas… - there’s a barely noticeable twitch in the pointed ears of the devil at the name, and Elam decides not to examine it further - once again. Why exactly are you still here? Don’t you have anything better to do?” it’s the devil time to huff now, clearly annoyed
“I’d love to, but I’m kinda stuck with you until you make some kind of deal with me”
“I...I’m sorry what?”
“Make a deal with me, pretty boy” he can feel himself flushing again at the nickname and as his brain stutters to a halt he has to stop for a second to push the embarrassment down and recollect his thought
“I’m not going to do that?! I don’t want to! And...and don’t call me that!” the devil just shrugs and nonchalantly sits more comfortably on the ground with an amused smile
“Oh, that’s bad...I have all the time of the world to wait and well...” he doesn’t continue, instead letting his eyes roam over the smaller man’s form and the exposed skin of his chest, lingering a second longer on the two blue tits tattoos on his chest. At the blatant gaze, Elam immediately picks up the covers again and go back to hiding behind them, cheeks and chest once again tinted red
“Stop doing that!”
“But the view is lovely, blåmes...would it be better if I undressed too?” he’s not done talking yet that he’s already lowering the light fabric partially covering his ample chest, exposing more geometric markings and the beginning of a tattoo. That’s all Elam manages to see before closing his eyes and covering them for good measure
“NO!” the scream is almost panicked and would be embarrassing, if not for the fact that he’s already blushing so much he doubts anyone would be able to notice the added redness to his cheeks anyway.
He keeps his eyes covered, even after he hears the rustling of fabric he prays means that the skimpy toga-like garment the devil is wearing is back in place
“Anyway. There isn’t really no way for you to leave me alone without having to make some sort of deal?” the answer comes after a pause, and the devil’s voice is serious enough that Elam deems safe to open his eyes again
“I’m afraid not...It’s not like we can jump on this plane and back as we please...we have a job to do here - another small pause, and when he speaks again the tone is almost sheepish - I...don’t exactly have the best track record, I can’t really afford to fuck up” the reaction of the devil has Elam slowly threading his fingers through his hairs, still disheveled by his agitated night, in an attempt to make something make sense
“Okay okay...maybe...maybe it might be a small thing? I can ask you to get me breakfast?” the devil snorts at that
“You would trade your soul for breakfast?” a defeated groan escape Elam at the remark
“Must it be my fucking soul? Can’t you get something...more inconsequential?” the devil just shrugs, and there’s no need to add more
“Fuck...fuck no. Listen. I’m...I’m sorry for your situation. But I’m not going to trade my soul. I’ve read enough shit and...that’s not...that...it never ends well. Not for me. Again I’m very sorry but...I’m sure you can go back and you’ll be fine, right. Right?” Zolas starts to stand up halfway through Elam’s rambling monologue and stretch lazily, almost knocking the ceiling light with a horn, before striding towards the door of the room.
He doesn’t even look back as he opens the door and steps out of the confines of the bedroom
“Well...I hope you’re not against a roommate, blåmes”
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For the time Elam’s tired brain finally catches up with Zolas’ words the devil is already out of the room, the door once again closed behind him, and the realization makes the blond men jump out of bed, already halfway to the door before he realizes he’s still wearing only a pair of boxers.
Quickly he throws on the first hoodie he can find and a pair of shorts, before following the devil out of the room, only to find his big form crouched behind the kitchen counter, focused on exploring its content. Before he can say anything he’s once again startled by the devil’s voice
“You need to buy groceries, this place is empty” again, for a second, Elam just stand there without saying anything, dumbfounded
“I...I had an exam to...why are you rummaging through my kitchen!” the annoyance finally unlocks him and he bound towards the kitchen corner of the big room, slamming the cabinet shut as soon as he’s in reach, eliciting a groan from the devil
“You can’t stay here! I don’t want a roommate. I don’t want a devil roommate” the devil stand once again only to tower over him and ruffle his hair with a grin
“Well, you can throw me out, if you can. I’d like to see you try” the gesture and the words for a second flare-up Elam’s rage, only for it to melt under the pressure of his dread, fear, and exhaustion.
Standing is suddenly a herculean feat, so he weakly bats away the devil’s hand from his head and drags himself to the old couch, plopping down on it only to hide his face behind his hands, breathing deeply.
He can feel Zolas move, crouch in front of him, but he doesn’t lift his head, not until the alarm on his phone rings, reminding him that outside his small apartment the world is still moving, and despite the devil in his living room, he still has lectures to attend.
He gets up like in a haze, ignoring Zolas still kneeling in front of him and the vaguely worried expression on his face; he starts to get ready, mechanically following his habitual morning routine, not really registering his movements, stopping only when opening the fridge makes his stomach turn with nausea. He shuts the door again, slips on his jacket, and is out of the door before he can allow the devil to say anything or stop him.
Final notes:
In the dnd game Zolas is half goliath and half orc, I’m using swedish for giant.
Next chapter might come quickly, I don’t know about the rest
What is this? A second Elam fic completely unrelated to the fist one? It absolutely is.
I’m sorry but Elam and his huge sweet boyfriend gives me so many fucking feels.
Again no beta because I’m the only one in this world obsessed with them and I don’t want to impose
AO3
MxM PTSD, anxiety, hurt/comfort i guess? Meaning that Elam is hurt and Zolas comfort him, not that I’m hurting and comforting you all
1376 words, it’s short but I still like it
Rating: G
There’s anxiety, there’s cuddles. Not much more than that
There’s an irony, he thinks, in the warm light and the gentle breeze of mid-spring, a mockery in the rolling of waves against the cliff outside their window, the chirping of cricket a laugh at his expenses as his breath gets shallow and he watches his body crumples into himself as if detached from it.
Elam is curled in a corner of the bedroom, arms around his head and head between his knees. The room is too small. The room is too big. The sun is too bright, and the weather has no business being this nice when he feels like his skin is trying to crawl away from him and there isn't enough hair to fill his lungs.
Somewhere on the other side of the house the door opens and the deck creaks under the weight of heavy steps, but the sound is drowned under the blood flowing in his ears and the waves outside the window, and the waves in his ears.
He distantly notices that there is rain on his cheeks and salt on his lips. Tears? Waves? He shuts his lids and buries his head more deeply in his arms as someone calls his name, but he's shaking (the ship is rolling?) and there's just so much he can do against the sun, the flashes of spells, the bolts of lightning.
When he feels a big hand on his back he screams and before he can realize what he's doing he's crawling away, pushing himself in the corner of the room, against the main mast of the ship, prays for the wood to swallow him whole as the ax descends towards him and red eyes burn on his skin.
But the sun is too bright, and the gaze on him is worried and green. The man slowly reaches a hand towards him and Elam is suddenly keenly aware of his own uncontrollable shaking.
The hand never gets to him though, it just hovers a couple of centimeters from his skin, just enough for the gentle warmth emanating from it to dull the throbbing pain in his right arm, even if just a bit.
When he manages to lift his head again he can finally really see the eyes in front of him, and it's the guilt etched deep in Zolas' expression that finally manages to rattle him enough to bring him back to their bedroom, to his body.
Slowly, movements still uncertain, he tips himself on the side, just enough for Zolas' hand to make contact with his shaking shoulder, and he can almost feel his own lungs filling with Zolas' hushed sigh.
He lets his boyfriend pick him up like he weighs nothing (and for the big man he probably does), and cling to his arms like a castaway to a raft, burying his head in the soft weathered linen on his shirt to inhale the familiar scent and let it drag him slowly back to his body.
When he feels the warmth around him lessening he's present enough to understand that he's being lowered on the big bed taking up most of the room, and he’s about to curl up on the fresh sheets, eyes still closed, when he realizes Zolas has let go of him completely and his heartbeat spikes up once again, a strangled sound leaving his mouth, still not able to articulate anything more.
He grasps around wildly, panic flaring up once again, and when Zolas' big hand finally gently grasps his he lets go on a relieved whimper, dragging it to his chest and almost curling around it.
He can feel a second hand (magical, his brain helpfully reminds him) gently burying in his hair and trying to slowly and delicately untangle the mess. He focuses on the rhythmical movement.
"Elam, love, is it okay if I leave you alone for a second? I'll bring you some water, and a clean shirt"
He hesitates for a second, the idea of letting go of Zolas arm making blood rush in his ears, but then he's suddenly aware of the linen shirt sticking to his skin, drenched in sweat; he lets go of Zolas to scratch at the fabric, the newfound sensation suddenly unbearable.
When the big form of Zolas moves the sun he was stopping rains on him, too bright and too warm for his tired form, so he curls in a corner of the bed to avoid it, eyes shut, until his boyfriend returns and close the shutters, mercifully immersing the room in darkness.
Again he lets Zolas handle him, not more reactive to the touch than a doll. But Zolas is used to it, and his touch stays gentle and patient as he helps him sit up straight and start unbuttoning his shirt. He lets his hands fall on Zolas wrists, not really grasping him, but relishing in the warmth of skin under his fingers and the gentle kisses being peppered on his hair as Zolas sheds the damp shirt from his shoulders.
When he’s free from the uncomfortable sensation he sighs slowly, leaning more in the warmth of his boyfriend’s big body, hoping for a hug that doesn’t take long to come
“I need you to put on a new shirt, mitt hjärta” the voice is soft, and Elam can hear the fond smile in it, so after another couple of seconds of enjoying the hug, he pulls away slowly and helps Zolas in slipping the fresh clean linen over him.
He wants to thank Zolas, he wants to apologize, but he finds that his voice still abandons him, leaving him gasping and curling against Zolas' chest in irritation and shame.
When he’s pulled away from the comforting warmth he just has the strength to whine again, fear making his heart race in his chest at least until a glass is pressed to his lips and water is soothing his parched throat.
“Good boy...” Zolas voice is soft and fond, hushing the ache in his chest like a balm and again dragging him a little bit more in his skin
“Come, lay with me” the glass is gently pulled from him and placed somewhere on the nightstand, and then he’s been gently dragged on the mattress, against Zolas’ strong body as he whispers praise and sweet compliments in giant against the shell of his ear, fingers dragging through sweaty, messy, blonde curls.
He tethers at the edges of reality and dreams, of his body and nothingness, for seconds, hours, centuries, until his breath is calm and regular and his skin under Zolas fingers feels like his skin once again, and it’s at that point only that he unfurls to loops his harm against his boyfriend to lightly squeeze him, just for a second.
The rhythmic movement of Zolas fingers stills, for a fraction of an instant only, before resuming as if nothing has changed, and there’s a familiarity in the small gesture, a recognition, that makes his chest ache with fondness
“Welcome back, blåmes, I missed you” a kiss, to the crown of his head, the familiar press of tusks swelling his chest with warmth and making him tighten his grasp around Zolas a second time. He has to focus another couple of seconds before he’s finally able to croak, incapable to hide the hint of shame in his voice
“I’m a mess, sorry” his voice feels like sandpaper against his throat, but Zolas’ soft chuckle is worth the uncomfortable sensation
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, älskling, I think you’re as handsome as ever” his voice is fond and Elam believes him, anxiety and fears slowly retreating to curl up in the small space under his sternum, finally silenced
“What did you do today?” Zolas wraps better around him, familiar enough with this situation to recognize his attempts at distraction, and launches himself in a recount of his morning
He lets him speak, deep voice cradling him back to comforting torpor. Just before letting himself be dragged back to rest he murmurs, voice thick with sleep
“Thank you, Zolas, I love you” he can hear Zolas smile in his murmurs, and sleepily smiles back, even with his face still hidden against his chest
“I love you too...rest now, you deserve it”
Final notes that maybe I should start to put at the beginning
Zolas was part of the pirate crew that attacked Elam ship, he was actually the one delivering the hit that then got infected and caused the surgeon to amputate his arm, so that’s fun.
He was mind controlled at the time (the red eyes are a sign of that), so I swear this relationship isn’t AS disfunctional as it could be.
One day maybe I’ll share my full Elam backstory document. Maybe.
The anime had you thinking Soroush might be dead so here, let Arakawa-sensei show you that he actually IS dead for all your character status needs. And look, there’s also Arslan.
a.k.a chapter 33.
gdi hermes
For the ask game: Elam for 1, 11, 12, 16 :)
Thanks! Anyone curious about the ask game, here's the post!
1. My first impression of them
“Oh that's one prickly lad,” I'm pretty sure. Okay well, I think past!me was kinda justified in that, he was prickly lol.
11. What’s the first thing you think about when thinking about the character?
Not quite a thought but somehow I attach him with a sense of longing that pops up when he's alone— when he doesn't have tasks and jobs occupying his mind. I don't know why, I don't know what he's yearning for, all I know is that it's a quiet, small thing, not the burning or consuming sort (comparatively, the sense of longing I associate with Arslan is more potent— like drowning, that one) but one that's... I don't know. A sense of loneliness. It's like a summer breeze. I want to hug him.
12. Sexuality hc!
A baby gay. Baby boy baby.
16. A childhood headcanon
Huh, surprisingly there's not much in terms of a solid headcanon I have for his childhood, except that he was... hm, how do I put it, catatonic? shut off and unresponsive? when he first arrived back to Narsus after his parents passed— struck with grief. He didn't know how to deal with that so he shut it off and buried himself in things to do. He didn't want to think about it, so he didn't. I don't know how things will get there but things end up cumulating in a very young Elam absolutely bawling his eyes out in Narsus' arms because damn let the kid act like a kid.
Guess who's finally getting back to the reread thing... and so close to my final exams, no less! 😭
Pyromaniac Alfarīd confirmed!
Fucking hell this really was a trap huh, even going as far as commanding it outright.
I love the soldiers 🥹 Arslan had really won their hearts!
I mean, who wouldn't love the little bird though, he's the best.
This sparks so much joy!!! Look at Alfarīd especially!! And Jaswant!
They were there with him at the start, and they'll be with him until the very end.
Excuse me while I go cry.
Elam is a big ol softie and it says a lot about the friendship between him and Arslan that Arslan is so... how do I put it, it's almost like Arslan respects Elam and looks to him for advice and everything? And Elam being so bossy towards Arslan (even if he is a big softie) despite their disparity in status is so... Gah, I don't have the words for it, I just like it!
“He speaks Parsian!”
Well, yes, he's Parsian, what else would he speak, lol.
The Zott treating Arslan like some bizarre alien creature was funny, ngl.
They're right and they should say it, and they should include priests in this equation.
I know a bunch of us have discussed about the corruption before, I just don't have enough energy to track down the post at the moment...
nothing to say here I just really like the friendship between Arslan and Elam and how it develops so much weh everything in Arslan Senki is so good!!!!! *sob*
I literally cannot…………..with Narsus’ song
the way he dances with Elam and then Elam is off to the side giving him little like…background effects?
the backup dancers that come out of nowhere and scare the shit out of Daryun??
the tiny little clap that Arslan does when Narsus is done singing
the fact that after the song is over Narsus gives the dancers like…business cards? signatures? some of his art? I can’t tell what it was supposed to be but it was hilarious
the fact that when the plot moves forward Elam comes out to sweep up the glitter and flower petals suggesting that all of that actually happened and I wouldn’t even be surprised because Narsus is just Like That
this musical is so good
Askljasldkjaslkj I love them sm
ID: a panel from the Arslan Senki Manga, with Alfreed carrying two bags of gold saying "Now I have a dowry for when I marry Narsus!" and laughing "Tee hee hee." In the foreground, Elam is frowning and saying, "More like an advance payment for leaving him alone." END ID
A certain someone deciced to use strength inherited from her Zot father to buy some Elam-free time with Narsus. Arslan might have seen her as she did it and maybe thought it would be interesting to see Elam’s reaction. Maybe.
Arslan Senki Reread
Some Elam appreciation! Narsus looks like a proud dad.
Arslan is so excited he's literally jumping at the chance to spoil Elam, lol. What a good bean.
Good panel!
Dorks.
Azrael looks so proud. I swear this bird understands it's being praised 😭
It's the reason Kishward couldn't/didn't choose to come with Arslan, after all. The conflict of loyalty/duty. Daryun does realize that.
Makes me wonder why Narsus chose to go with Arslan's wishes here. What did he seek to gain?
Zaravant: *all puffed up and excited for the honor*
Jimsa: ...weirdo.
Things I liked here:
Merlaine standing where everyone else is kneeling
The peeps leaning back to stare.
Arslan's lil “please?”
Merlaine folding immediately (so much for your tough act, boy)
Like,
Not even a “fine, I'll do it” or “sure” he says “As you wish.” politely? His speech bubble is shaky? Adorable.
Am I reading too much into it because it's my ship? Possibly, but I don't care. I like this ship, therefore I will overanalyze it.
Some…discord doodles? xD
Peace sign Elam- peace sign pointed out by @feshnie and screenshot courtesy of @chatmant
Baby Arslan because you can play baby Arslan in Warriors of Legend… loljk
And finally, grown-up Arslan!! uh actually I was drawing my OC but my twin pointed out he could be Arslan if I coloured him differently and so this happened LOL but shh don’t tell anyone