#I put the tarot card numbers instead of the titles because it was too small sorry

[makotoismyson]

poorly held together condolences,

drowning out the Northern Lights,

pay more for old advice,

open eyed entangled in promises,

buried under dying homes,

hands tied in golden thorn.

[kaaras-adaar]

Kaaras and the Valo-kas

//  Kaaras is NOT a member of the Valo-Kas. For long term RP partners, they most likely know this (or for those who have read over Kaaras’ profile). I did have him in contact with them prior, but it’s easier to have Kaaras as a stand alone character without the ties to the Valo-Kas. So I’d like to shed some light on his mercenary life.

When Kaaras was only five, he came into his magic. At the markets in Ferelden, a group of older kids began picking on him and chasing him–in an attempt to beat him up and most likely steal anything he had on his persons. While he was defending himself, Kaaras was backed into a corner and ended up using a force blast to knock them back.

Kaaras is a qunari, so he never would have been accepted into a Ferelden Circle–they’d rather have him hanged (or made Tranquil). However, Kaaras’ future trainer (Saarebas), saw the incident and made sure that the children didn’t taddle on him–how she did this was probably by scare tactics and threats to them before they could reach their parents, and the incident was never legally reported. Even if it was, most people were afraid to approach a family of qunari.

When this all happened, Kaaras was mortified and ran all the way home in tears. He had no idea what had happened, he’d just thought of pushing them back and it had happened, and he was freaking out. His mother and father had no idea how to deal with their child being a mage (considering they are Tal’Vashoth, only having fled the Qun when pregnant with Kaaras). Neither of them are mages, so they were out of their depth and element.

After a few days had passed, Saarebas knocked on their door and informed them that she had seen the incident, and let them know that Kaaras was safe from the law–for now–but he had to get his magic under control if they didn’t want a repeat of what had happened. Aban and Anaan were desperate for help, and she knew this. They were a poor family that was struggling to make any coin off their farm. Saarebas knew that they could not offer her anything in return for her help, but she was a spiritual woman, and she saw something special when she saw Kaaras, and she believed that if well trained, he could be destined for great things. I should note that Saarebas is an exceptionally spiritual woman, one who actually spoke to spirits–as well as reading tarot cards. What she saw in Kaaras was something, and she believed it. So she offered to help train him so he could gain control of his magic. In return, the Adaar family allowed her to stay in the barn if she was in the area–as she worked as a mercenary and often crossed Southron Hills (the house was small and could barely house them all as was).

Her form was strict and harsh. She wasn’t exactly a mean woman, but she wasn’t nurturing either. Not in a soft way. She was far more the “tough love” kind of woman. But her training is what made Kaaras so disciplined in his magic, and in his will.

After Kaaras’ father died when he was 12, he promised he’d find the remaining man who attacked their home and bring him to justice. He knew Saarebas was a mercenary, and he asked her every day when could he join. It was his soul purpose. Eventually, Saarebas knew that she couldn’t stop him, and said he was ready. If she could not take him under her wing, then he would go it alone, which she couldn’t allow.

Her mercenary group was not the Valo-Kas, it was her own, named the Ash Ataash (to seek glory). Mostly it was with humans and elves no thanks to being in Ferelden. When there wasn’t much coin going for them, they ended up moving to the Marches, in Kirkwall. Competition was fierce within the area, even though there was plenty of jobs going around. Kaaras (and any other qunari) was seen as an asset due to their strength and will to get things done. This meant the Ash Ataash stood out. After being approached by a very qunari orientated band (named the Ralshokra after the supposed death challenges), Saarebas accepted the offer for them to join. It gave them a chance to get work when it was already difficult for such a small band to get good jobs that paid well.

After a few years with them, the Ralshokra had gained a ruthless name for themselves, and Kaaras gained a lot of experience. He didn’t always agree with what was happening and the jobs, but he understood that he was in need of coin to send back to his mother back on the farm.

When he was 24, Kaaras grew fond of one of the other members, Stenn (the former love of his life before Inquisition). Kaaras was in a messy place, and for years after his father died, he’d taken to alcohol as a crutch. Kaaras often drank himself into a stupor to try and take away the pain of his father’s death, as well as sharing a bed with others who approached him and wanted sex. He didn’t have penetrative sex with anyone, in fact, his pride (and shame) stopped him from doing that, at least a part of what little pride he still had in himself. That and he’d always wanted to wait for that someone special. Kaaras has always been a romantic at heart.

Stenn stopped all of this. He was the absolute calm to Kaaras’ storm. He was kind, gentle, loving, and everything Kaaras really needed in a time of need. It was often just talking, staying up late with each other while on the road as everyone else slept. Eventually, it turned into a romance, but they took things very slow. Stenn wanted it to be slow for Kaaras, instead of all the quick paced running into things he was usually doing in trying to soothe his pains. It was also slow because of Kaaras’ lack of alcohol to give him confidence, not to mention the physical pain he could be in at times no thanks to his condition.

Gentle kisses soon became touches, and eventually they went further to being nude with one another, but never penetrative sex. When they were going to, they were interrupted, and the moment was pretty much stolen from them. It had taken all of Kaaras’ courage to get to that point, so it was smashed again, and it just never had time to grow once more as soon after, their band was under attack, and Saarebas ended up dying.

When Saarebas died, it put a huge strain on their romance, no thanks to Kaaras, determined to believe that the bad orders had gotten Saarebas killed. There were disagreements and bad tension, and in the end Kaaras made his decision: he left. Some of the Ralshokra went with him, in agreement that the leadership was too reckless. Stenn remained behind, in disagreement and rather set in his ways (he was a lot older than Kaaras). In a moment of angst, the both of them were far too stubborn and hurt to set aside their differences, and they parted. They never said that they had fallen in love with each other, and the bitterness from their parting kept them from saying it, however, Kaaras showed that he was thankful for everything his lover had ever done for him, and while hurt, they did not part on angry terms.

This was when Kaaras moved up to Starkhaven and that’s where he started recruiting more men. He became the captain of the company and they settled there doing mercenary work for the next few years under the title of the Beres-taar (meaning ‘shield’). Kaaras devoted his life to this, to making better decisions, to letting go of his hate and unhappiness. This was his new goal.

The Beres-taar were quick to make a name for themselves, having some of the advantage of former Ralshokra members. Kaaras was a natural born leader, and with the mistakes of the former band he’d been in, he was determined to give his company a good and loyal name for the work they did. This eventually got the attention of nobles in the area, and they earned a decent living.

Eventually, their name was known enough in Starkhaven that they were suggested to aid with protecting the Divine during the peace talks. This was the first time Kaaras had ever run into the Valo-Kas. The only time Kaaras has ever taken part in knowing the company is via the peace talks. Kaaras was asked specifically by reputation and having previously worked with the Prince of Starkhaven and nobles. Kaaras’ company themselves are not overly large, but they are hard workers who are dedicated to their jobs. Numbers was a must, however, so Kaaras was fine when he got the news that another band would be accompanying them.

Both the Beres-taar and Valo-Kas went to the Conclave alongside one another, however, because the Valo-Kas was more well known thanks to more years of being in service, everyone assumes Kaaras was under their title. He wasn’t, and he corrects EVERYONE who says he is and was, but this is why people assume he’s from the Valo-Kas in Inquisition. 

During his travel back through Kirkwall, Kaaras and Stenn reunited, however, things had changed between them, and Kaaras had changed too much as a person to continue a romance. The events at the Conclave happened, and they were separated, Kaaras became the Herald and Stenn remained in Kirkwall.

Everything else is pretty much known to his timeline. :)

So, Kaaras is NOT a member of the Valo-kas and he never has been. The only time he’s been in contact with them was during the peace talks. Everything you see in Inquisition for the Valo-Kas missions pretty much isn’t canon to Kaaras, however, he does keep in contact with them as there’s no bad blood between them and they were both at the Conclave together.

I will do a meta on Kaaras’ life in Starkhaven another time, but this is why Kaaras is not a member of the Valo-Kas, but why some people assume he is, and that I wanted to at least stay true to parts of the canon, but also pull away from it.

[itsnsfwalways]

Canyon Moon

FIC MASTERLIST

WARNINGS FOR CHP. 2: swearing, mild drug & alcohol use, brief mentions of death

CHAPTER TWO: wish i could get to know you

The two of you pull up to your buddy Mike’s place, a small, hole-in-the-wall studio.

Harry parks the car and gets out to open your door, although he waits for you outside to tie your boots.

“How’d you meet this guy?”

“Oh, Mike? We can’t really remember the first time, I’ll tell you the story with him when we’re inside.”

You hop out of the car and grab his hand, swinging it back and forth as you walk up to the front, hearing soft music playing already.

The two of you reach the door and Y/N swings it open, yelling out,

“I hope you’re ready because mama wants a tattoo.”

Harry shakes his head and tries to hide his grin as he turns around to shut the door all the way.

“You’re fucking stupid,” A male voice laughs out, looking up from his sketchbook. His feet are propped up on the counter, and of course, he is littered with tattoos.

“Mike, this is Mr. Ferrari, Ferrari, Mike,” you introduce, waving your hands between the two.

“I saw that fuckin car, I was like ‘who the fuck is coming to me in that?’” Mike exclaimed, snapping his fingers.

“Hey, mate, I’m Harry,” Harry says, leaning forward to shake Mike’s hand while giving you a look that makes your head drop to the floor and your heart skip a beat.

“Nice to meet you, dude. I’m Mike, Like your tats,” Mike says, getting up from the chair behind the counter.

He leads the two of you over to his station, getting all his supplies laid out as you hop into the leather chair.

“So what are you getting, Y/N?” Harry asks, sitting in a chair near you.

“This extremely intricate design that’s going to take lots of mental power, and, of course, only gives me a few hours notice,” Mike teases, kicking the bottom of your chair.

“It’s just this geometrical thing I saw on a Tarot card a little while ago, it really stuck out to me.” You explain, pulling the card from your purse.

“Oh, cool.” Harry nods, picking up the card, only after looking at you for permission, of course. He holds it lightly by the edges, being sure to be gentle with it.

“‘S not gonna bite you, baby,” you giggle, knocking your knee against his, biting back a smile at the way his head shoots up.

He grins at you, knocking his knee back while setting down the card carefully on the table.

“I know, but I know these cards are special to some people, want to be gentle with em,” he says softly, twirling his pointer finger ring.

“Some decks are, but these are very relaxed. You don’t have to treat em like glass.”

He nods and blushes slightly, looking away for a second to hide his smile.

“You done flirting so I can start?” Mike asks, removing the transfer paper from your inner right forearm.

“You’ve had sex on my living room floor, I’m allowed to do whatever the fuck I want after that,” you say, shuddering slightly at the memory.

“Fair point.” Mike nods, beginning the design.

“So, um, Y/N said that you guys can’t remember how you met? I’d love to hear the story.” Harry jumps in, eyebrows raised at your last statement.

“Oh, fuck,” Mike laughs, dipping the needle in more ink. “I think it needs to come with a warning that I spent pretty much the entire year of 2015 drunk. She says we met at a Tame Impala gig but I have no such memory of this happening.”

“It did happen! You gave me your number because I kept bugging you about your tattoos but it was to this random mom in Philadelphia, who did not appreciate me calling her at 3 am.”

“Anyways,” Mike cuts in, rolling his eyes, “We officially met at a New Year’s Eve party later that year that my wife, Maggie, hosted. Y/N and her ex came and proceeded to break up right before the ball dropped, and she made out with my sister instead just to piss him off.”

You let out a laugh and cover your quickly turning red face with your hand, peeking through your fingers to gauge Harry’s reaction.

“Wow.” He acknowledges, eyebrows raised and fingers pinching his bottom lip, glancing back at you. His lips quiver slightly as he tries to hold back his laughter.

“Alright, haha, very funny. The ending to this, BEAUTIFUL, story, I must say, is he gave me this tattoo the next week and the rest is history.” You gesture to the sunflower bundle inked on your thigh, before puckering up your lips at Mike, who, without even looking up, shoves your face with his other hand.

“Honestly, Harry, I’d run while you can. There’s never a dull moment with this one, that’s for fucking sure.” Mike advises, rolling his eyes when you smile widely.

“I’m starting to learn that,” Harry laughs, eyes trained on you.

The three of you go into a comfortable silence, the only sound being the tattoo gun whirring and your occasional whimper at a sensitive spot.

A thin line of sweat has slowly covered your body, and Mike notices, scoffing.

“We’re gonna take a quick break. I’m gonna go get a cig when you get calm, back in 20,” He says, stopping the machine and leaving the room quickly.

“So, uh, you guys have quite a fun dynamic,” Harry comments.

You take a deep breath and look to him, your mouth closing at how he’s positioned. It’s been about an hour at this point, and he’s shifted in his seat to a more comfortable position. Leaned back against the chair, legs spread open, arms resting behind his back, it wasn’t helping your situation.

“Yeah, he’s like my older brother. His sister is great too,” You mindlessly say.

“I’ll bet,” Harry smirks, nodding slowly.

“Hey, quit it. You get to have fun with pretty girls and so do I.”

Harry clears his throat at your boldness and adjusts his positioning, changing to lean forward on his knees.

You get up to grab two water bottles from the mini-fridge under the counter, offering one to Harry when you sit back down.

Drinking about half the bottle, you let out a sigh, trying to get your shaking legs under control.

“What’s your shirt say?” You ask, still having not figured out the small black text.

“Oh, it says ‘Treat People With Kindness’. It’s kind of my motto, or slogan, I guess. Most of my merch says either this or the abbreviation for it.” He tells you, hands going down to pull the shirt away from his chest.

“That’s really nice, Harry.” He glances up at you with a small smile on his face, nodding slightly.

“Bit egotistical wearing your own merch, but hey, who am I to judge?”

He rolls his eyes and bumps the bottom of your chair with his foot.

“Why’d he stop? You don’t seem to be freaking out to me. Maybe a little sweaty,” he teases, not realizing what he’s asking.

Groaning, you lean your head backwards towards the ceiling, hating yourself for what you’re about to say.

“Got a bit of a pain kink so I’m... overwhelmed, let’s say, and Mike hates that about me.”

Harry lets out a breath of air at this and you turn your head to look at him.

Your slight leg tremors are now starting to click, the blown out pupils, and swollen red lips from how much you were biting them.

“If it makes you feel better, I had to get a tattoo on live television and to this day, I still see zoomed in photos of my eyes from it online. At least they make the process fun.”

Your jaw drops and you lift your head up.

“Alright, Harry, shit,” you mutter, wiping the sweat off your brow. “Always got to one up me.”

He looks shocked at this and mockingly puts a hand to his chest.

“Says you! From the minute I met you, you’ve continued to surprise me with everything you say.”

“Okay, Mr. ‘I sang with Stevie Nicks and cruise around Malibu in a beautiful car’.” You say, blushing slightly from his words.

“You sang with Stevie Nicks?” Mike asks, walking through the door.

“Yes! He’s a musician, let’s play his album. What’s it called?” You jump up, slapping your hands on your thighs.

“Harry Styles, it’s a self-titled album. You can listen to it later if you want, I mean, we don’t have to-“

You shut off his rambling quickly.

“I wanna hear your voice! Also self-titled, we love a man with a big ego,” You tease, getting up to get the iPad that controls the music.

Typing in his name, you raise your eyes at the number of streams he has, clicking on the album and playing the first song, ‘Meet Me In The Hallway’.

“You’re quite pretty, Harry. That’s some gorgeous cover art.” You comment, pretending to examine it further.

“Oh god,” he laughs, tucking his chin down to hide his face a little bit.

“Okay, Y/N, shut up, sit your ass down, so I can finish this and you can listen to the song properly.” Mike points, making you put the iPad down and come over.

The song hypnotizes you for a second, trying to zone out and listen to it.

“Shit, Harry, you are fucking good.” You mutter, hand going to your mouth at his talent.

“Thank you,” he whispers, looking almost nervous at your reaction.

Your jaw stays open pretty much the entire song, each note making your eyes go wider or glance at Harry, trying to figure out how he is this perfect.

“Is it too soon to propose?” You ask, his voice slowly fading in the background as it changes to the next song.

He laughs and scrunches his nose slightly before telling you, “Just a tad.”

The next song starts playing, and you’d be lying if tears didn’t fall.

Trying to play it off, you look away and wipe your eyes. Mike glances up at you and stops for a minute, rubbing your arm slightly and giving you a squeeze. You tap back on the table and he nods, feeling better that you gave him an okay.

“Fuck, sorry, this is a lot. Crying on the second song, phew. Hope you’re doing good upstairs, Harry,” You laugh, sniffling a little.

“Don’t apologize, please. Music brings up a lot of emotions, I feel so honored that you’re reacting to it so strongly.” He says, rubbing your knee slightly,

“Should I cry a little more then?” You tease, smiling at him with damp eyes.

“Boost my ego a bit, maybe,” he smiles back.

All of a sudden, the song climaxes, and your jaw drops once more.

“Holy shit, Harry! Do you have anything wrong with you? My god.” You shake your head, in disbelief over him.

“I mean, I am always traveling, so there’s that. But other than that, I’m pretty much awesome,” he pretends to boast, fake popping his collar.

The song shifts to Carolina, which Harry tells you after you ask as soon as it starts playing.

“She’s such a good girl, she feels so good. Am I hearing that right? Just wanna check,” you recite the lyrics slowly back to him, moving your free arm around.

Harry looks away, pretending to check out the pictures on the wall behind him.

“Are you gonna be like this for every song?” Mike asks, and you nod happily, bumping your head to the beat.

Almost the entire album plays while Mike is tattooing you, all with varying reactions of either, ‘Harry!’, ‘Is this real?’, ‘I’m gonna start crying’, or ‘this is the sexiest shit I’ve ever heard’. Without fail, you ask him the song name when the first few notes start playing and he tells you it, sitting quietly and smiling at you getting so happy over his music.

Mike finishes wrapping you up and goes to the back to find some healing products for you as the final notes of Woman play, and you swivel in your chair to face Harry, knocking your knees against his.

“What’s the next one called?” You ask, so in awe of the man sitting in front of you.

“From the Dining Table. ‘S the last one. Quite an emotional one.” He says back, smiling sadly at you while playing with his rings.

You nod in understanding as it starts, coming to sit next to him and leaning your head on his shoulder, so drained from the last few hours. He wraps his arm around you, tucking his head over yours.

The song goes by without a noise from either of you, sans a few sniffles that made Harry squeeze you a little tighter.

After it ends and the two of you sit there in silence for a while, you say quietly,

“I like how at the end the music swelled when you wanted them to call you, and then it cut out. That was pretty powerful.”

He nods, the movement moving your head slightly.

“I like that part too.”

You pull away from him and look at his face close up for a second, trying to read him.

“Thank you for sharing this with me. I mean, obviously not with me, but that you let me freak out over you. You’re really special, Mr. Ferrari,” you whisper, brushing his hair out of his face.

“So are you, Y/N,” he mumbles, eyes flickering to your lips for a second.

“You paying cash or card?” Mike’s voice cuts through the air and the two of you jump apart, feeling like teenagers.

“Um, card,” You say, standing up with your purse and heading to the counter to pay.

Mike rings you up and you grab a hundred from your wallet to tip him with.

“Ah, I remembered why I like you,” Mike smirks, grabbing the bill from you.

“Stupid,” you mutter, giving him a hug goodbye.

“Oh, before you leave, I’m throwing a party this Saturday, Harry, you’re welcome to come as well,” Mike adds, gesturing him over.

He moves from his spot against the wall to stand next to you, a hand resting on your lower back for a second before dropping to his side.

“Thank you, I’ll have to check and see but I’d love to come. It was great meeting you mate, might have to set an appointment up in the future,” He smiles, shaking Mike’s hand once more.

“Hell yes, brother, I’d love to. Great album, by the way. Can see why Y/N brought you by.” Mike crosses his arms over his chest and looks at you while he says this.

“Alright, shut it down,” You snap your fingers at him, glaring slightly. “I’ll text you later, loser.”

“Get out!” He yells, making you laugh as you drag Harry away.

“Need help with your bag?” Harry asks as you exit the shop, the cold air biting your bare legs.

“I’m good, thank you though.” You swing the bag so it hits his butt just to see the way he jumps and runs away from you for a second.

“Hey! No hitting the driver!” He scolds, wagging a finger pointedly.

“We haven’t even gotten in the car yet!” You argue, coming to a stop in front of his car.

“Doesn’t matter.” He shakes his head and grins at you when he unlocks the door, immediately reaching for yours to open it for you.

“Thank you.” Your voice came out as a meek whisper and you cleared your throat after he shut the door, trying to shake out your butterflies.

He plops himself down next to you and pats his hands on the steering wheel for a second.

“Do you want me to drop you off at your van or your apartment?” He asks, turning to face you.

“Trying to kick me out?” You questioned, laughing at his expression.

“Van’s fine. I’m probably just going to write, I’ve got some stuff to do for a friend.”

“Is there a name for the beach? I’m not sure I remember how to get there,” Harry admits, opening up Google Maps on his phone.

“Not really but I can just find it on the map real quick, I’ve been in this position way too many times.”

He hands his phone over and you find the cove in less than twenty seconds, handing it back over.

“So where are you from? I’m realizing you tricked me into spilling my guts without telling me too much about yourself.” Harry questions, hand going up to scratch his chin.

“I grew up kind of all around California, my family was always traveling so I was homeschooled for all my life. Only child, because we were pretty broke and I was a ‘happy accident’,” You quote, laughing at your mom’s phrasing.

“Aren’t we all really?” Harry grins, shrugging slightly.

“I think so. Anyways, my parents died when I was 15 and that really made me get my shit together. I moved in with my best friend, Laura. Graduated high school early and just worked my ass off for a couple years. Bought Miss Sunflower and renovated her, traveled through America for about a year and a half before moving here with Laura. She and I got an apartment together and just have kind of figured life out since then. She works at a record label and I’ve been working as a part-time songwriter since I was 16, mostly just helping out whenever an extra person is needed or they need some extra little sad sprinkles in a song.” You explain, taking a breath after you finish your little rant.

“I’m so sorry for your loss. I know your parents would be very proud of you staying true to your roots.” Harry sadly smiles, rolling up to a red light at the perfect time. He leans over to give you a quick hug and you graciously accept, whispering a little ‘thank you’ in his ear.

“It’s been a rough grieving process but I’d like to think they are. Please don’t pity me though, it sucks, yes, but life could be so much worse. I’m lucky to have the people in my life that I do,” you explained, picking your nails nervously.

“I completely understand. I lost my stepdad last year and being there for my mum was the only thing that kind of kept me going,” Harry sympathizes, twisting one of his rings around his hands.

“I’m sorry as well,” you murmur, taking his hand and holding it.

“Yeah,” Harry exhales harshly. “Life’s a bitch.”

You giggle lightly, nodding. “That she is.”

The two of you sit in silence for the remainder of the drive back, listening to the ocean waves and the sounds of your breathing.

Harry parks his car next to your van and puts it in park, leaving the headlights on.

“Thank you for coming with me and sharing all of this, you really know how to make a girl feel special,” you blush, tucking a loose curl behind your ear.

“Thank you, Y/N. I feel like my whole view on the world has shifted so much in the last few hours,” Harry gushes, and you have to turn away to smile for a second.

“Come on,” you mumble, hiding your mouth with your hand.

“I’m serious! I know we just met but I really like you, I’d love to continue this. And I need to listen to you play still, not fair I only got to hear from far away for a few seconds.”

“I’d definitely like to see you again, but it’s a harsh maybe on the playing,” You nod, biting your lip to stop the smile from plastering itself on your face.

“I can give you my number if that works, but, like I said, I’m always here.” You offered, gesturing to your car.

“Number works great. And I’ll let you have your spot, I don’t want to take it away from you,” Harry pulls out his phone to give you his contacts.

“No, please come join me, with friends too! I need to share this little bundle of joy,” You hope to pursuade him into visiting this spot, but his expression is unreadable.

“How about this, I’ll text you before I come?” He suggests, taking his phone back from your hands.

“Perfect. Thank you again, Harry,” you emphasize, leaning over to give him another hug.

“Of course, love. Thank you for a wonderful night.”

You wave goodbye after getting out of his car and head into your van, taking note he doesn’t leave til you’ve gotten yourself inside and shut the door.

You plop yourself down on the bed and sigh, looking up at the ceiling.

“Holy shit,” you sigh, getting up to get into the driver’s seat.

You FaceTime Mike on your way back to the apartment, unable to wait to talk to Laura when you get home.

He answers a few seconds later, beer in hand.

“‘Sup loser,” he greets you with a head nod, “You get home okay?”

“Yes, oh my god. What the fuck was tonight? What do you think of Harry?”

He sighs and moves to lean his phone against something.

“If I’m being honest, the man is unreal. I don’t know how the fuck you found him but, wow. I can’t think of anyone who is down to not only drive someone they just met to get a tattoo, but to then sit through the entire thing while having them fangirl over their album.”

“I was not fangirling!” You try and defend, but one look from Mike shuts you up.

“Okay, maybe I was, but I’m just so in awe. I gave him my number because I thought he might feel weird giving me his. He had almost a billion streams on his first fucking album. That’s insane.” You explain, biting your thumb.

“Quit biting. And yeah, I’m not going to lie I looked him up after you left. Mans is a proper superstar, used to date Kendall Jenner allegedly.”

“Bleh,” you shake. “I don’t want to know about his life from the internet, that’s so weird. Also, when Alex and I were together he was dating some new model every other week, all those magazines are bullshit.”

“True. But Alex also was dating a model,” Mike retorts, trying to pick your buttons.

“Haha, very funny,” you deadpann, rolling your eyes.

“I’m just saying, as your brother, be careful. He really does seem like an amazing guy.”

“Yeah. He really is. Say hi to Maggie for me when you get home! I’m rolling up to my place right now so I gotta go.”

“I will. I know you already know how to take care of your tattoo so I’m not gonna waste my time. Later, loser.”

“Bye, dumbass.” You hang up, pulling into the driveway.

Practically dancing up the steps and through the front door, you’re met with the cozy atmosphere the two of you have created for yourself. You can tell your favorite vanilla candle is burning somewhere in the house and you slip off your shoes, practically running into Laura’s room and leaping onto her bed.

“Hello, my love,” she smiles, hugging you tightly. Her perfume envelopes you and you squeeze her back, lying your head in her lap.

“I thought you were staying at the beach today?” She wonders, playing with your hair.

You sit up at this, resting on your elbows.

“I met a boy,” you smile, putting your hands to your cheeks.

“Shut up!” Her voice raises a few octaves and she scrambles upright, hitting your thigh with her hand.

“Ow!”

“Who is he? Where? Oh my god!” Laura rattles off, bouncing up and down on the bed.

“His name’s Harry, we met at the spot. He came with me to get the Tarot card tattoo at Mike’s.” You gesture to the bandage around your forearm.

“Shit, man. What’s he look like?”

“Fucking hot. He’s British, for one. Tall, curly brown hair, green eyes, lots of tattoos. Also, he’s got the voice of a goddamn angel.”

“You’re not talking about Harry Styles, are you?” Laura asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you know him?” You wonder, surprised she knows his name.

Her jaw drops and she fully shoves ou off the bed, emitting a ‘hey!’ from you.

“Of course I know Harry fucking Styles. Are you serious?”

You blow your hair out of your face and lean up on your elbows, one leg still on the edge of the bed.

“No, I’m not joking, what the hell?” You laugh, pulling yourself back onto the comforter.

“How the- who- what?!” She stutters, looking at you expectantly for a story.

“He came up to me on the beach asking for a lighter, we smoked a j and just kind of started talking. I asked if he wanted to go to Mike’s with me and he drove me over, and I’m me, so I tried to pick apart his brain a little. We listened to his album, which, by the way, have you heard it? That shit’s incredible.”

“Of course I’ve heard it! The entire world has heard it! Keep going!”

“Jesus,” you laugh, shocked by her reaction. “He drove me back and we got a little deep, I gave him my number before I left. I think we kind of had a moment though, he looked like he wanted to kiss me for a second.”

You pull your knees to your chest and rest your chin on them, thinking back to that moment.

“Holy shit, Y/N,” Laura sighs, falling back dramatically on her pillow.

“I know. I feel kind of weird though, he seems very closed in. I mean, I get it, I saw that he has quite a bit of fame, but I don’t want to have to pry him open, y’know?”

“I mean, yeah, but he’s really fucking famous. His fans are some of the most die-hard people out there. And there’s a hell of a lot of people who would do unspeakable things to be in your position. Myself included,” she mumbles at the end, and you swat her with a pillow.

“Gah,” you moan, lying down next to her. “I don’t know how to navigate my way around that kind of fame. What if he sees that, or still thinks that I’m lying about not knowing who he is? That’d be a bit egotistical, though, so maybe I’d be dodging a bullet.”

“Nope! You are not missing out on an opportunity to fuck Harry Styles.”

You laugh, scrunching your nose.

“I don’t want to think of him like that. Just Harry, the dude who I’ve been relentlessly teasing all night.” You turn onto your stomach suddenly.

“Shit. What if I was being too much?”

You groan again, pushing your face in her pillow.

“Than he’s dumb for not realizing how funny you are.”

Your phone pings suddenly, and you grab it from your back pocket, not recognizing the number on your home screen.

“Shit, he just texted me.” You shout, standing up onto the ground while you read the message aloud.

Hey, Y/N, it’s Harry. Hope you’re enjoying the rest of your night, I just wanted to give you my number and thank you again. Tonight was probably the most fun I’ve had in a while, if I’m being honest, and I was wondering if you wanted to do lunch tomorrow?

“Oh, fuck ME, he just asked me out to lunch.” Your hand goes up to your mouth as you look wide-eyed at Laura, who’s expression matches yours.

“Bitch, say yes!”

“Okay!” you yell back, pacing back and forth.

hey harry ! i’m glad you had fun tonight, i was worried i might’ve scared you off haha. i’d love to do lunch, what time were you thinking ?

“Does that sound okay?” You hand your phone off to Laura, getting her stamp of approval before sending it.

“Ah! Okay, shit fuck, it’s sent.” You throw your phone onto her bed and lean against her door, waiting for his reply.

Your phone lights up not even two minutes later, a text from Harry reading,

Haha, definitely didn’t scare me off. If anything, the opposite. How does noon sound? I can pick you up if you’d like?

“A gentleman,” Laura sighs, fanning herself as you read it together.

“Shut up,” you mumble, blushing slightly as you type back,

well, good, i’m glad :). noon works great, here’s my address. sleep well, harry.

I’ll be counting down the minutes. Goodnight, love.

You scream as you read his last text, shoving your face in your hands.

“Oh my god, okay, Y/N, take a chill pill,” you tell yourself, taking a deep breath in. “Ugh, why am I getting so worked up over a guy?”

“Because he’s funny, cute, talented, and rich, bitch.”

You give Laura a look and she laughs,

“Okay, money, fame, and any prior knowledge I have aside, he seems like a great dude. And if he’s not, well, my dreams will be absolutely crushed.” She shrugs, going back to scrolling through Instagram.

“Oh, wow, thanks.” You roll your eyes, standing up. “I’m gonna make some tea, you want any?”

“I’m good, thanks though.”

You nod and shut her door behind you, going into the kitchen to turn the kettle on.

Hopping up on the counter while you wait, you decide to do a little bit of Instagram stalking, just to see what he posts.

You click on his most recent one, smiling at his caption.

“Kissy,” you mutter, shaking your head lightly.

Scrolling through a few more of his photos, you bite your lip at his outfits, incredibly jealous of his stylist. His feed is better than yours, if you’re being honest, and you smile at the thought of him making sure all the black bars line up.

Hearing the whistle of the kettle, you hop off the counter and pour yourself a cup of chamomile. Closing out the app, you take your mug into your room, turning on your lights that make your room look like you’re floating in the galaxy.

Placing it on your nightstand, you get yourself ready for bed, spending a little extra time washing your face and doing your skin care routine.

You slide into bed and open up your latest book find of the week, this one being Misery by Steven King.

You find your eyes drooping after a while and set your things on your nightstand, snuggling deeper into your blankets.

With a smile on your face, you drift off to sleep, excited for tomorrow.

[fallen029]

The Nuances of Seances.3

Previous Chapter

The shopfront looked downtrodden as fuck and the last place that Laxus wanted to go in was there. However, the first thing he wanted to be in again was Mirajane and, well, here they were.

"Ooh, spooky," Mira beamed as, upon opening the door tot he little shop, they were welcomed with a fitting decor. The walls were lined with shelves full of spell books that, after glancing at the titles, Laxus wasn't so sure he shouldn't be alerting the magic council about as well as multiple knickknack items that he wasn't so sure he should just be alerting everyone about.

Elfman, more worried about the crampedness of the locale, frowned as he looked around. He'd already hit his allowance for things broken that day (he was typically given three, but the table certainly counted as much) and did not want another scolding from Evergreen and Mirajane.

"What is this place?" he muttered to Ever who was looking around in disgust, Freed doing much the same. "Some sort of magic shop?"

"It is the shop of all dark magics big and small!"

The loud exclamation made Evergreen jump and Elfman tense up, as if ready to start breaking everything, scoldings be damned. Men don't worry about the punishment, after all. They take their licks without fear. Especially if it means protecting their woman!

The voice continued, however, before he could make a judgment call.

"Of course," the man that they then saw behind the counter at the front of the dark lit shop went on, "that is not to say that I, myself, partake in such dark matters. Rather, I see myself as a...collector. Yes, a collector. Who perhaps at times does sully himself with dirty deeds, but also can find himself doing the upmost of good. Who-"

"We," Freed sighed as Laxus almost let out a long groan, "are for sure in the right place."

"Good morning," Mirajane greeted in the cheerful tone only someone who'd been promised by their boyfriend a chance to buy any kitchen table the wanted could have. "We're here because our friend Bickslow-"

"Mira?"

Samael?"

"That," Freed complained as Laxus stared in shock while his girlfriend rushed through the tiny shop over to the man, "can't possibly be his name."

"He's friends with Bickslow," Ever reminded. "Anything's possible."

"Wait." Elfman frowned down at the two of them. "When you all say that you have friends outside of the rest of us?"

"Please," his girlfriend begged as Freed widened his eyes, "do not embarrass yourself."

"Mira." Laxus was heading through the shop as well, scowling at the sight of his girlfriend and the odd man embracing. "How do you know this guy?"

She grinned real big over at the approaching Laxus as the hug lasted a bit too long for the man's taste. "We," she began as they separated, "dated."

"Suddenly, I really like this little misadventure," Ever mused as she left Elfman and Freed behind to get closer to her one true love; unnecessary drama. Over her shoulder though, she did add a hissed, "Don't touch anything."

Which Elfman was all ready to follow...until he turned and saw Freed doing just that.

"She said not to touch stuff, you know," the muscular man carped as the slimmer one picked up some sort of jar filled with a blue liquid. "She's real serious about that sorta stuff."

"Have you not realized it yet, Elfman?" Freed hardly gave him a glance. "It's merely you who must follow her autocratic rule."

"Dated?" Laxus was repeating with a frown. "You dated this guy? He looks fucking fifty."

This seemed to offend the other man- Samael, as he claimed himself. Not that Laxus cared. He wanted to tell him he looked ridiculous to be the age he appeared, yet still sporting some sort of hooded robe, the shade a dark blue, nearly black, and have his face caked with some sort of white powdered makeup that Laxus wasn't sure if was to make his already pale skin paler or to hide the pretty obvious signs of aging. The worst offense was surely the dyed far too darkly hair that was poking out from beneath the hood that was thinning to the extreme.

He looked stupid.

He looked like what Bickslow would look like in a short number of years.

It was aggravating.

"Laxus," Mira complained as Evergreen had to hide her grin into the hand fan she'd produced for just such usages. "You're being rude."

"I'm being honest."

"Aren't you fifty? Yet?" Elfman called from where he was still standing in the doorway, still very fearful of that scolding he just knew was coming. "Laxus?"

"No," he growled, glaring over at the man. "I'm not."

Was he?

How long were they in that damn hyyper sleep spell thing on the island?

How old was he?

Oh gosh.

Was he forty?

"Would you two knock it off?" Mira glared over towards the door at her brother. "You're embarrassing me in front of Samael."

"That still," Freed sighed, "cannot be his real name."

"I'm embarrassing you in front of a man in a bathrobe, Mira?" Laxus asked. "Really?"

"A scared robe that I use during my most important sacred rituals, thank you." The other man, for some reason, was deluded enough to not understand why glaring at Laxus Dreyar wasn't such a grand idea. "The likes of which someone such as yourself could never wish to don."

"It has stains, literally, all over it," Evergreen observed, always one to take up for her (im)perfect idol. And, not to miss a chance to take a jab at her least favorite Strauss (though, honestly, that wasn't a hard category to lose), she made a face over at the man's girlfriend. "Oh, Mirajane, please tell me that he's just fallen on hard times."

"Samael is an...eccentric," Mira said with a glare. Then, glancing back at the man, she stammered a bit, realizing this could be seen as an insult. "I-I mean-"

"No, no, it's true." He turned from them then, of course taking the moment out to grasp part of his robe and allow it to flutter villainous behind him. "It is the tragic life story of every genius, good meaning or not. Misunderstood merely for existing. Cast aside-"

"Bickslow said you had a list?" Freed interrupted. He was still very concernedly scanning through the different potions, not so certain they worked, but still fearful of their legality. The last thing he needed for his reputation was to be busted by the government in a place that sold banned items. Not to mention they still had to spend the rest of the evening with said seith and, well, getting a double dosage of insanity was not something he was looking forward to. "One he had given you? Of things to put together for us to gather?"

His back was to the group and, for a moment, Samael just stood there, considering. Then he nodded.

"Yes. A list. From Bickslow."

As the man bent down behind the counter, Laxus moved to grab his girlfriend's arm and drag her back, just a bit, so he could bend down and whisper privately in her ear.

"Mira, what the fuck?"

"What, Laxus?" she complained as she jerked away from him. "Like you didn't know I have exes?"

"Ex- I don't care about exes!" He huffed a bit. "I care that you were dating losers like this before me. What will people think of me when they hear that your dating list consisted of the likes of a Bickslow knock off?"

"If anything, Bickslow's a knockoff Samael, considering he's been around longer."

"A lot," Ever called from where she stood as, apparently, they weren't whispering as lowly as they thought they were, "longer."

"How long do I have to stand over here all alone?" Elfman called out to the others then. "Because maybe I want to do some shopping too!"

"Forever," his girlfriend volleyed back, not wanting her chance at watching Mira and Laxus argue be dwindled away due to the man breaking something. "And ever."

"Laxus, I was young," Mira finally complained. "Young people make dumb mistakes. And obviously he wasn't fifty then."

"Great. So you were dating a forty year old creep."

"Late thirties."

"Mira-"

"Why don't we go through all of your girlfriends, Laxus? Huh?"

"This isn't about me."

"Neither was this before you made it that way."

"The list, the list, the list, the list," Samael was chanting loudly then as he dug around in a drawer behind the counter. "The l- Ah, here it is!"

"Do tell me," Freed asked as he finally glanced over, "that you have already collected the things? And were not just looking for the list?"

Instead of answering, or producing any sort of pile or box of already gathered things, the man only said, "I answer to no man! Much less a mere mortal."

"Freed's a lot more than a mere mortal, Samael," Mirajane assured him as Laxus tried hard not to just walk out, right then and there, and say fuck his stupid circle of friends. Stupid circle of idiots. Why did he even like any of these people? At all?

"If being the opposite of mortal, Mira, winds you up like him," the rune mage sighed, "then I am perfectly happy with my normal existence."

"The first thing on the list," Samael was calling loudly then as he moved to walk around the shop, "is a stone. A stone unlike any other. A stone meant to be wield by only the most competent of wizards. A stone-"

"Will that stone," Laxus grumbled out, "help us channel the dead?"

"What? No, of course not." Samael plucked a glassy blue rock from a shelf across the room from Freed. "It locates water, glowing when you are within up to five feet of it!"

"And you need it for a séance?" Ever asked, skeptical.

"No." Samael was already moving right along though. "He also has requested-"

"Why would you want a stone that only did that?" Freed was not one to be fooled. "Five feet? You should hear the rushing water!"

"Perhaps," Mira defended, "it finds puddles."

"It," Samael assured her, "does not."

"Can I move yet?" Elfman asked.

"No," came the chorus from all of the others, save the store owner, who were all equally tired of him asking.

"A deck of tarot cards," the shopkeeper was continuing. "Preferably the coolest looking ones."

"I thought those were for telling the future?" Ever asked. "Are we doing a reading? I thought we were having a séance."

"They are," Samael agreed. "And I have no idea what you people are doing. Convening with the dead, is it? Not many supplies one would need for that."

"Is anyone even sure that's what we're doing?" Freed looked to the others finally. "Did Bickslow ever explicitly state that? Because I thought all you needed were some candles for that. Surely Bickslow has candles."

"Are there candles on the list? Samael?" Mirajane asked.

"Mmmm," he hummed as he scanned over it. "Ah, yes."

'Seance candles?"

"I know no such name for an object."

"I'm convinced nothing in this damn shop has a name," Ever quipped.

"Fuck this list." The slayer was growing more and more peeved. Had he not found out that the creep in the robe had once fucked his girlfriend, he might have just stood outside and waited for the others to finish their misadventure. "We can figure out what we need. You said candles? Freed? Get the right candles and let's get out of here."

"I'm still thinking Ouija board," Evergreen told them. "Do you not summon spirits with that?"

"Yes, I was unsure of this as well," Freed added. "Bickslow acted as if those were not mutually exclusive with a séance. But are talking boards not typically what one would use?"

"Well," Mira began, "they are not mutually exclusive. Like a rectangle is always a square, but a square isn't always a rectangle. Using a Ouija board is always a séance, but a séance doesn't always require the use of an Ouija."

"I think you have that one backwards, Mirajane," her boyfriend sighed.

"Laxus, what do you know about this kind of stuff anyways?" she complained, tired of the slayer apparently. "What do you know about anything?"

"He was talking," Evergreen said with a roll of her eyes, "about the stupid squares and rectangles."

"If you people are having a séance," Samael interrupted, "then perhaps I can finally unload that stupid- I mean sell you the very high quality séance table that I have in the back-"

"There's a back to this place?" Elfman complained. "Why not make it the whole store? And make it bigger?"

"I usually don't have such...behemoths of customers," Samael explained with little tact.

"Usually when people pause, they're trying to find a nicer way to say something, you know," Freed remarked.

"This is all muscle!" Elfman insisted. "Manly muscles!"

"Ooh, a séance table, Laxus." Mirajane clapped her hands. "What are the odds?"

"What odds?" he asked. "This whole thing's fucking odd. And I'm staring to think that we actually had no reason to be here at all."

"Only starting?" Evergreen questioned.

"I have a great model that I can't unload," the store clerk was saying then. "That you would just love, Mirajane. Remember those late nights dabbling in the dark arts?"

"I'm gonna barf," Elfman informed then all. For once, Laxus agreed. "Seriously."

"He means learning spells," Mirajane complained as Freed too looked a bit sick. Ever, however, was beyond enjoying herself. "It's what we connected over."

"Oh, we believe you connected," the woman of stone remarked snidely.

"Why would Mira...love the table so much?" Freed asked slowly. "Exactly?"

"Perfect for seances," the man explained. "Circular, yes? And the top? A Ouija printed right on the surface! What a table it is."

"Soounds hideous," Ever remarked with a frown.

"No one who follows the path of such demented thoughts cares for any sort of thing," Samael complained. "We care about functionality. And it functions quite great."

"Because Ouija can be used in seances," Mira insisted. "See, Laxus? I told you."

"I never argued that. I was arguing about squares and rectangles."

"And now you're buying me a séance table."

"Mira, you're going to eat fucking breakfast on a table meant to summon the dead?" Laxus asked.

"I sure hope it's ectoplasm resistant," Freed remarked. "Else breakfast just got a lot grosser."

"What is that?" Ever asked, making a face just from the name.

"Something that only happens in possessions!" Samael made a face of his own, though it was in annoyance, fearful that Freed would hamper his sell. "Who would get possessed at a dinner table?"

"You don't know Bickslow that well, do you?" Ever asked with shake of her head.

"Well, we'll have one at the séance, I'm sure," Mirajane mused.

"Unless you use the table's Ouija board," Samael countered.

Looking up at her boyfriend, Mira said, "He makes great points."

"He makes no points. And this was all a farce." Laxus had had enough, apparently. "Bickslow sent us here for absolutely no fucking reason at all. So if we could all just hurry the fuck up and get out of this rundown shack-"

"Laxus, behave."

And that did it. Crossing his arms over his chest, the man let out a long, slow breath through his clasped lips.

All better.

"Now," Mirajane began after being sure her command had worked. "Samael, how much for the table?"

"60, 000 jewels."

"We'll take it."

That got the slayer speaking again.

"Mira-"

"Laxus I want it." Turning her eyes up to stare at the man, she gave him her best begging pose. "Please?"

Which is how they ended up finally getting out of there, the only thing bought being Mira's stupid table that Laxus and Elfman had to lug back in its box, all the way to the Strauss household.

"Oi! Boss! You're back! And with a table. Not too shabby, Mirajane."

"It's a séance table," she giggled as they found him in the house, sitting around in the living room. "I figured we could use it tonight."

"Ah, nah, we can't."

"Huh?"

Shaking his head as he didn't even move to help the others take it back into the kitchen, the seith stuck out his tongue as he said, "Our séance has to be outside."

"What?" Evergreen stomped into the house last. "So we do have to go outside?"

'Into the woods. Deep into the woods!"

"Deep," some of Bickslow's wooden babies called as the others added, "woods!"

"But Laxus spent a lot on the table." Mira kicked a bit at the ground before brightening. "Ooh, we can just start having a weekly get-together where we contact the dead! It'll be great for bonding."

"Where's my stuff?" The seith was starting to realize that no one had a sack of things for him. "Guys? Thought you went to the store for me?"

"Bickslow." Freed, who had gone into the kitchen with Laxus and Elfman to set up the table, was coming back to poke his head into the room. "None of the things on that list had anything to do with a...seance. Tarot cards? Stones? Not even candles!"

"There were candles," Bickslow defended.

"The man at the shop said they were for ritual sacrifice," Freed complained. "We went through each item on that list before we left. It was full of nonsensical things that have nothing to do with what you told us they would."

"I never told you guys that I wanted you to get me stuff for the séance." Bickslow held his head higher, still the only one seated. "I needed you to do this for me for personal reasons."

"What personal reasons?" Ever asked with a frown.

"It takes a lot out of a medium, okay?" The seith refused to look any of them in the eyes. "That's what I'mma be. Tonight. When I channel a spirit into me. For Lisanna."

"Then what the fuck," they heard a deep growl then from the kitchen, "was all that shit that you made us pick up for you meant for?"

"Boss," Bickslow started, "I'm a man of many interests. I write up lists of things, give them to my guy, he gets it all together, come back the next day with all sorts of new stuff for my house."

"Tarot cards though?" Freed was skeptical. "You can read tarots?"

"Of course not."

"Then why did you want them?"

"I'm dark soul, Freed."

"How have you never bought them before then?" Evergreen asked. "Hmmm?"

"I've bought all that stuff I put on the list before. The water stone, the cards, the candles, the gold pendant to ward off the undead-"

"Then why did you want us to go out and get it all again?" Elfman called out to him. "Huh?"

"Uh, because I'm not only a man of many dark interests." Bickslow tongue wagged a bit. "I'm also a man who misplaces things constantly!"

For a moment, the house was completely silent.

"I'm gonna kill him."

But only for a single moment.

"I'm gonna fucking kill him, Mirajane. I'm serious this time. This is it. This is the day that I strike down this whole damn town-"

"Laxus, take a breath." Mirajane was rushing in there. "And ooh, look at my new table!"

"You had better hope, Bickslow," Freed warned as Ever too rushed off to calm the slayer down, "that whatever it is that you're planning goes off without a hitch. Because you've more than pissed everyone off by this point."

"Just trust me some, huh? Everything's according to plan." Folding his hands behind his head with complete ease, he said, "All we have to do is wait till nightfall. Then you'll all see. Swear."

So the daily thing didn't happen. Had a lot going on the past few days. Still, I'm not abandoning this one. Swear.