#angery babey

[sea-sands]

The screen froze here and I was dying

[shift-shaping]

horror, disgust, rage

enaste encounters magister malchus on her way to the guest quarters.

rating: m

pairing: solavellan

warnings: body horror

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first fic in this series

previous fics | 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27

Enaste Lavellan had come here to help. And these people repaid her by gambling with the lives of those she cared about most. Her family had been harassed, she herself had been assaulted, and now the one person who made her feel like she wasn't completely alone was on the brink of death, all because of their failure to deal with their own problems. She was tired, and hungry, and thoroughly sapped of anything resembling patience.

In moments like this, when wrath sunk its fangs into her heart, Enaste wondered why rage demons were made of fire. The frustration in her wasn't hot, not when it reached its peak. It was like a switch being flipped, a trap going off --instead of red, she saw white. 

The halls around them were bathed in shimmering ice. The magister's guards groaned in agony from crumpled heaps and frozen prisons. Any resistance was met with immediate and excruciating cold. 

"Inquisitor." An unfamiliar voice called from behind her. Enaste turned, gripping her staff in one hand. What she saw made it shiver with wild magic. 

There was no doubt in her mind that the man at the other end of the hall was the magister they were looking for. He was dressed like Alexius, like the other Venatori mages she'd seen, and was surrounded by a number of guards. 

"So it is you. It is really you." He marveled at her through a heavy Tevinter accent. "The one who wields the Anchor."

She glanced at her hand. It shot green sparks of sympathetic magic. 

"I did not dare to hope you would come here yourself. But yes, you did. Here you are." He shook his head. "Inquisitor, we do not have to fight--"

"Yes, we do," Enaste spat. "I don't have time for this. Leave this city now, or I will kill you."

He raised his hands in front of him. "There is not a need for such threats. We can talk like civilized people, can we not?"

She loosed a blast of frost that he barely dodged. It shot through the air and slammed into the far wall so hard it made the building shake. 

The magister looked at where the spell struck, then back at her. He sighed. "It was too much to ask of a Dalish savage. What an ignoble way for the 'Herald of Andraste' to die." He drew a deceptively simple staff from his back. 

Enaste and her companions were outnumbered, but that had never mattered before. She sliced her staff through the air and drew up a wall of ice that cut the magister's forces in half. 

He ordered his remaining men to charge. Behind her, Jester hurled a grenade into their line that exploded in a shower of sticky pitch. Three arrows, so fast she didn't see them fly, hit their targets in rapid succession and sent as many guards to the floor. Cole, moving in sudden bursts, took care of the rest. 

Enaste's magic crackled, and in an instant she had fade-stepped past the chaos to put herself inches from the magister. She held the end of her staff to his neck. "Yield."

He stared at her, amber eyes wide with surprise. Then a smirk cracked across his face. "Fool." She felt the Veil shudder around them, and the magister grunted with sudden effort. She glanced behind her. The men they had just taken down --who she was fairly certain were not dead yet-- rose heavily to their feet. They cried out --gurgling screams as their bodies twisted and shook.

Horror shivered through her blood. "What are you doing to them?" 

The magister laughed weakly, panting. "You would not believe the power my master wields."

"Help me! Please!" One of the men screamed. He bent forward, then back, and a series of loud cracks echoed from his spine. Smoke bellowed from his mouth as his screams turned to choking gasps. Heat rose from his skin, searing through his leather armor. Any exposed flesh bubbled from the sudden inferno within. 

With one final, agonized shriek, his eyes melted in their sockets. The liquid turned to steam on his face. From the empty husks came first two bright flames, then a single blaze that split his skull and exploded from his back. 

The cold she'd covered the hall in met the sudden influx of heat from across the Veil, and the air turned thick with steam and the splintering of ice. She turned back to the magister. "You forced the demons into them. They were too weak to refuse." 

He stepped back, breathing heavily, and shook his head. "Or was I too strong to resist?"

She saw it then, the source of his power. The staff that had looked so nondescript from far away she now saw was shot through with thin, dark veins of red lyrium. It couldn't have been much, but it was plenty to bring the devastation he intended.

"Inquisitor!" She heard Jester's voice through the steam. 

"Too late to run, rat," the magister hissed. She swung at him, a burst of winter, but the lyrium staff deflected her spell with such force that it flung her across the icy floor and into a wall. He advanced on her, surrounded by the howling screams of his men.

Her pulse pounded. She forced herself to focus, to remember her training --to remember who taught it to her, and the antidotes in her bag. 

She sensed the wild magic along her staff, responding to her power, to her will. She held for a heartbeat, then another. The half-second the magister stepped within range, she released a burst of raw, crackling magic that whipped across the Veil and sent him stumbling back. He shook his head, briefly disoriented.

Through the fog she felt the demons gaining on her companions. They had left the Veil thin. It yielded to her, let her grasp its flimsy weight in her fist. 

She cried out, the sound raw and pained and loud. The Veil slammed into the demons, weakening and stunning them enough to give her party time to react. 

The magister, still reeling, stumbled towards her again. The Anchor blazed bright with each twist of the Veil, as though charged by her manipulation of it. He had made a grave error in sundering so thoroughly his only protection.

She brought down the full power of the Anchor. The rift that formed from her rage snarled like thunder. Leashes of magic gripped his demons, drawing yet more agonized screams from what were once his men. He looked at what she'd done, eyes wide, obviously not expecting the Fade to call his summons back so soon. 

Enaste shot a freezing bolt of magic at his staff. It flew from his hands and slid across the ice. He turned to her in shock. "You-- how did you--"

She immediately entombed the staff in ice, then looked towards her companions as they finished off what remained of his demons. 

He dropped to his knees in defeat. She drew towards him, and again held her staff at his throat. "I yield! I yield!" He cried pitifully.

She scoffed. "And your men died for nothing. You could have avoided this. All of that needless death." She shook her head. "You're pathetic."

He flinched away from her. He quivered, whimpered, squeezed his eyes shut. She didn't understand what he was doing at first, but when she realized, she let out a bitter laugh. He was cowering from her. "You think I'm going to kill you and this is how you spend your last moments?" She lowered her staff to the ground, but he didn't stop. "I'm not going to kill you." He finally quieted, and looked up at her in confusion. "I'm going to let them kill you."

She pointed to the wall of ice she'd drawn between the magister and the other half of his men. They had seen enough of what happened to know what he did to their comrades. From behind the ice she could see a mix of warped reactions: horror, disgust, rage, fear. 

She dispelled the wall. The men closed in on the magister, who immediately began pleading for mercy. Enaste turned her back to him, and crossed the hall to the lyrium staff she'd encased in ice. 

As the magister screamed, she focused her magic on seeping into the cold metal. It expanded, cracking the material apart, until it finally shattered. 

With the red lyrium staff in countless tiny pieces and the magister crying out for mercy from the men he betrayed, Enaste returned to her companions. They watched her in silence. She walked past them, leaving the frozen hallway in their wake as they continued towards the guest quarters.

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[babeyloser]

Uhhhh also health updates

Still waiting to see a specialist for my heart & lungs. I’m able to sleep through the night now without waking up for my inhaler :)

I got an ultrasound last week on my thyroid; They found a 6cm (diameter) growth on it. So now I gotta get a biopsy and ct scan done >:(

[zahra-hydris]

vanille de lora   

                   it’s v, just v

[the-cats-bananas]

I’m just

[sanktasolntse-a]

WHICH  RAGE  LANGUAGE  ARE  YOU  ?

                              STEP BACK.           usually, you're able to bottle up your emotions and ignore the frustrations. but, after weeks of shoving everything down, your body needs a release, and i pity the poor person who managed to piss you off. it's screaming crying, shouting, kicking lockers, whatever you can do to get it out of your system. it's a whole jean grey moment, fire and fury blasting out of you.

tagged  by. i forgot who tagged me oops tagging. steal it from me!

[obicoconobi]

>:v

[lemongrace]

>8(

[nogoodmox]

[sea-sands]

the Murphy/Ayanna conflict is so good, but all I can think about is what if *Elliot* lost his partner to some guy who’s now untouchable

[cool-guysyndrome]

Me? Redesigning an old au? It's more likely than you think.

I'm shit at lighting but at least I attempted a background for once.

[heartxofxthra]

[ wound ] // Rian! @songteller

Most times he’d manage to dodge whatever was coming at him, blades or claws. Sometimes he just got lucky not to get hit. Now was neither of those moments, his bleeding side an act of proof to that. One of the darkened forest animals decided to have a go at the settlements poised at the edge of Stone-in-the-Wood, and Rian had jumped in to ward it off away from the innocent villagers. Not that they hadn’t been warned to stay as close inside the village as possible. 

The scowl on his face was legendary, matched only by the angriest fizzgigs. Not because the wound pained him, no, but because of all the goddamn lecturing he’d had to listen to. Not one single word of gratitude, despite him being the one bleeding. All that yammering about “putting himself in danger” and “not being careful”. Well somebody had to do something about it, didn’t they??

He sat there, legs folded and chin propped sourly on his hand as Kylan tended to his wound. 

“If you lecture me too, I’m throwing myself off a cliff.”

[lcbotomy]

MAKE  YOUR  MUSE  AS  A  CAT - LOAF    !

tagged by:   stolen from @atlantisking and @strategiic​ tagging:  @kcstra (shohei) @illunaris (promto) @wrongwiththisright & anyone who’d like to!

[frutavel]

A group of endermen is called a haunting

[hannahtoadthetoad]

ANGRY BABY

[cosmoclovii]

Can you draw Byakuya Togami grrr woof woof bark grr bark money man with sweet cinnamon roll Makoto Neggi.

Happy 10 year anniversary of thh!!