#she's a purple mage which is Rare in this world and so hunted by the elite to be trained for service to them

[tracle0]

hi hi Trade, I am here because I simply Must know more about Elan immediately please and thank you (also do you have any tunes for him? just by the look of him n his vibe I feel like he'd have some bangers) mwah ok bye

:D HELLO

I'm tagging @khufiya-khaufnak-antariksh here as well cause you both asked about Elan and I figured I'd just babble a lil about them to both of you here, hello, thank you for your interest!!!

Okay okay okay Elan issssss yeah! A fucking mess, basically! They, they, they. Hmm. HMMM!

They're basically the result of a fun kidnapping and testing that was executed on a wide number of colour mages. Elan semi-volunteered for it, with zero intention of actually taking part, and then took part anyway. Sucks to be them.

I don't know an awful lot about the actual process, but the general aim of it was to see how much colour could be taken from a mage before they. Yknow. Fucking died. Which for most people was alarmingly far! Strip magic away and see how deep this colourlessness can go.

Alas, most of the people fucking died before anything truly interesting could happen. But but but! Elan did! Not! For various reasons I'm keeping disclosed, they were full of spite and rage and Vengence and decided actually, you know, I'm not gonna die, I'm gonna take this white you're pumping me full of and just. Harness that, thank you very much. Reject the magic you were born with and embrace this synthetic model instead.

Basically, edge 14-year-old brain went 'teehee evil science experiment character :)))?' and I went oh HELL yeah!

Elan is the kinda guy who likes gardening :)! Lil gardener fella! They've got a section of BigBad's base wardened off for Just Them, where they have a little living area and a big garden, where they spend most of their time, chilling out, feeling At Peace, crushing any sliver of green that starts to edge into any stalks or leaves. It is a petrified garden. It could not survive without them. They love it dearly. Sometimes, when they get overwhelmed or frustrated, they smash it and sob in its remains until it's replaced and they start the cycle over again.

They also stand as one of the first characters of mine where I looked at them and decided they wanted to be in a lil relationship, which is nice and good for them! Less good for them that it's, uh, with the. BigBad. The woman who funded and dictated the research that made them Like This.

The relationship is very much a. Toxic one. Power struggles between the two, knowing full well they've hurt each other badly and still coming back for more. By the end of the first book, they quite literally stab her in the back and ease her into her death, all romantic style.

Mmmm despite how things have been phrased, I think Elan does quite like being a White. They want more people to be White so they can understand how things are, how they should be. Very obsessed with perfection and cleanliness and purity. Bleached as many pigments out of themselves as they possibly could, and still finds the red of their blood to be grating.

I have exactly one (2) songs that vibes for them at the moment which I think you know both of, Monday? Tis 'The Quittin' Kind' by Eleisha Eagle and 'Pretty Little Head' by Eliza Rickman. Both vibe with the more toxic part of their relationship with the BigBad. Who has no name. Pretend she does.

Okay that's it! Bye! Thank you!

[gardenofdelight]

✨OC Questionnaire: Peaseblossom✨

a.k.a. Pixie Reader from Fairies May Cry

Full name

???????????????

Preferred name/nickname

Lil Pea, Lil Blossom, Sweet Pea

Generally referred to as

Peaseblossom

Appearance

FACECLAIM: Here’s a portrait I made using Artbreeder:

SEX: Female

HEIGHT: Just barely 5 inches in pixie form, 5 feet in human form.

WEIGHT: Light as a feather in pixie form, lightweight in human form.

BUILD: Lithe and slender.

HAIR: long, soft, and platinum blond. Usually braided with tiny flowers, but it comes down past her bottom when loose. 

SKIN: White. Smooth and sunkissed from daily naps under the sun. 

EYES: Purple like lilac flowers.They’re a bit wide and always seem to sparkle with mirth and mischief. Long eyelashes.

MOUTH: Small mouth with plump lips. Perfectly straight teeth and pure white. 

NOSE: Small and rounded with a cute point at the tip and small nostrils.

HANDS: Small with short fingernails.

FEET: Small and dainty with short nails. 

SCARS: None.

CLOTHES: Colorful dresses handmade from real flowers, but she prefers to be nude with a sprinkling of her fairy dust on her body most of the time

OTHER FEATURES: She has 2 pairs of iridescent wings much like a dragonfly.

OTHER NOTABLE FEATURES: She has a “fairy light” that changes color depending on her current mood.

Speech

VOICECLAIM: To be determined.

ACCENT: Fairly neutral.

VERBAL TICS: She has a tendency to repeat words when she’s overly excited about something. And she stumbles over her words when taken by surprise. 

LANGUAGE: She can speak all known languages so long as she can hear it verbally first thanks to a little fairy magic.

ARTICULATION: She can be a little clumsy with words while explaining things but she does so on purpose sometimes if she’s hoping to get the upper hand in a deal. 

EDUCATION: She prefers to use short and simple words but she’s learned a few big words that are hard for her to pronounce correctly.

LAUGHTER: Sounds like the tinkling of tiny bells in the wind, and she laughs and giggles a lot everyday.

GRUMP: She pouts, grumbles, and sneers whenever she’s annoyed or angry.

BREATHING: She gasps, humphs, and sighs a lot.

Mannerisms

FACE: She has a very expressive face and has a hard time hiding emotions on her face unless she’s working out a deal...then she has the best damn poker face in existence. 

HANDS: She makes a lot of hand gestures whenever she’s excited or mad. Lots of arm crossing, finger wagging, curious poking, and happy clapping.

LEGS/FEET: She kicks her feet sometimes while flying and stomps her foot down when she’s angry.

EMOTIONAL OUTBURSTS: Her capricious nature makes her very prone to emotional outbursts. Crying and yelling when she’s upset and laughing and bouncing around when she’s happy.

HABITS: She likes to hum sometimes while hunting for lost trinkets and sing lullabies while making flower dresses. 

POSTURE: She tends to slump a little while standing or sitting, but her posture straightens out whenever she’s very happy, angry, or taken by surprise.

WALKING POSTURE: She skips around gleefully when she’s in good, but she tends to stomp around when she’s in a bad mood. 

SITTING POSTURE: She likes to sit with her legs crossed beneath her with a slouched posture. 

PERSONAL SPACE: She doesn't have much of a personal bubble and tends to encroach on others’ personal space without realizing it.

SPACIAL AWARENESS: She’s really good at noticing what’s around her thanks to her constant hunt for the next best trinket.

OTHER: Her fairy light changes color depending on her mood. And her fairy wings tend to snap out when she’s surprised, droop when she’s feeling down, and flutter faster when they're buzzing with rage.

Health

DIET: Two words: liqueur and sweets! She loves fruity wines and sugary treats...it’s not really healthy and definitely not a well-balanced diet but pixies have an extremely high metabolism. She rarely eats vegetables and scoffs at anything boring and bitter.

SLEEP: She takes a lot of short naps throughout the day. Pixies don’t sleep for very long unless they’re completely exhausted. Many of her dreams consist of brave adventures with her trusty steed (a rat named Sir Hawthrone) and romantic dances with Pretty Boy (Vergil). 

EXERCISE: Not very much but flying around and searching through all the nooks and crannies for lost trinkets is a bit of an exercise! 

ACTIVITY: She works hard when she wants to, especially if she’s really excited about something...that’s usually when she pushes herself to exhaustion. But she can be pretty lazy some days...it all just depends on her mood at the moment.

CLEANLINESS: She bathes in the morning dew she creates every morning for her flowers. But sometimes she takes a shower with Pretty Boy when he’s not looking…!

ODOUR: Like a meadow of sweet flowers by a tranquil pond.

MEDICINAL DRUGS: No.

NARCOTICS: No.

ADDICTIONS: No...unless you count the obsessive need to make deals and having a sweet tooth as an addiction. 

ILLNESS: No.

INJURIES: No.

PARASITES: No.

OTHER: To be determined.

Personal

INTROVERT/EXTROVERT?: She’s an exuberant extrovert. Lil Pea doesn’t let her small size get in the way of being social and outgoing, especially when it comes to things that pique her curiosity.

OPTIMIST/PESSIMIST: Definitely an optimist. 

GENDER: Female.

SEXUALITY: She has no set preference in regards to sex and/or gender. So long as they’re a very nice person with a kind soul. Any display of intentional cruelty or just general “meanie-ness” will make her look the other way.

ROMANTIC: Absolutely loves all the romance! 

MEMORY: She has a very chaotic memory, usually wavering between highly accurate to absurdly silly.

PLANNING: She’s a terrible planner and just leaps right into things with a wide grin.

PENSIVE: She doesn’t spend a lot of time pondering about life...she’d much rather live in the now and not then or yet to come.

INTUITION: She has really good intuition so long as she isn’t figuring things out on an empty stomach.

PROBLEM SOLVING: She’s very good at solving puzzles and problems so long as it's very clever or in rhyming form.

GOALS: To find the greatest lost trinket in the world! 

INSECURITIES: She thinks her wings aren’t as pretty as some of the other fairies with their beautiful butterfly wings. But she hides her insecurities well behind her cute and bubbly personality.

ACHIEVEMENTS: She’s very proud of her trinket collection and her ability to make Pretty Boy blush!

ANXIETY: Being trapped like a bug in a jar and Pretty Boy being in danger makes her super anxious.

OVERWHELMED: She only feels like things are too much when she’s stressed out.

SELF-HELP: She simply ignores her problems and moves on with life.

COMFORTS: Liquor, sweet treats, naps among the flowers, and Pretty Boy kisses.

BAD HABITS: She tends to exaggerate a lot which sometimes leads to more problems.

PHILOSOPHY: Not religious but does follow the creed of all fairies: always seek to make clever deals through trickery and under no circumstances are you to break a deal.  

TRIGGERS: Glass jars and bird cages.

The Past

PARENTS/GUARDIANS: She doesn’t have parents per se...more like a mysterious guardian who brought her into existence with powerful magic. And they get along very well but haven’t seen each other in over a millennium.

SCHOOL: She never went to school...unless you count causing mischief a few times during some classes to make children laugh at the teacher’s expense.  

ADOLESCENCE: She was never an adolescent. 

LEAVING HOME: It was very exciting for her the first time since she’s always heard how much the mortal realm can be! But then she became a permanent resident when she escaped from the mages holding her captive. 

FURTHER EDUCATION: She never went to college but wouldn’t mind causing some mischief there too.

FIRST JOB: She helped her guardian with his garden by tending to the flowers. She enjoyed putting dew on the blooms every morning and healing to sickly buds with her bell-like singing. 

LIFE EVENTS: Making a deal with one of the Princes of the Seelie Court definitely brought more cheer into her life. But having that same Prince fail to protect her when she got captured by mages and enduring captivity brought pain and sorrow. And now finding a new protector has renewed her hope and continues to bring her joy every day.

WORST DAY OF THEIR LIFE: She was captured by mage and held prisoner for various vile experiments.

BEST DAY OF THEIR LIFE: Pretty Boy kissed her back.

LESSONS: Never trust someone solely on their looks...you must peer into their soul and judge them by their spirit. Never hide in the dark alone. Don’t eat too much strawberry ice cream or else you’ll suffer from the worst stomach EVER! And it only takes one fairy’s sugar to make Pretty Boy smile and sometimes blush!

LOOKING BACK: If Lil Pea could re-play her life and do something differently, she would’ve not joined the Prince’s revelry in the mortal world that fateful day.

Relationships

FAMILY: The crew at Devil May Cry are pretty much her family now.

FRIENDSHIPS: She has a lot of friends! Most of them are critters living in and around the shop...but they’re very loyal and love to go on adventures with her.

FRIENDS IN NEED: She will always be there for her friends with fairy dust to cheer them up...she’ll also offer to even the score if someone is the source of her friend’s troubles. This usually involves some elaborate pranks and tiny raspberries right in their face.

NEEDING A FRIEND: She usually seeks the comfort of her flowers and critter friends first...but sometimes she’ll go to her human friends when she needs help or advice. It just depends on her mood at the time. 

ANNOYANCES: She gets annoyed very easily but reciprocates with swift pranks and raspberries right in the face when really irked.

ROMANCE: She’s a bit overt with her advances and has no problem giving her romantic interest pretty gifts. She’s attracted to people with a good and just soul...and being tall and strong doesn’t hurt either.

MARITAL PROBLEMS: She’s not married but she’d probably ignore the problem until forced to deal with it...and then her capriciousness would take over and it’ll either turn out very good or very bad but confusing nonetheless.

ADVERSARIES: She doesn’t like big meanies who ruin all the fun! 

ENEMIES: Anyone who would hurt Pretty Boy or defenseless animals and children is an enemy to her. She also gets VERY angry when flowers are needlessly destroyed. 

STRANGERS: She tends to hide from strangers since you never know if they’re real nice or a big meanie!

FUN STUFF: She loves to sing, dance, pull pranks, hunt for lost trinkets, make pretty dresses, and feast on all the sweets and booze!

DATING: She loves to dance with her romantic partner and will always be ready for a feast with good booze. But she finds a stroll among the flowers and fireflies at night very romantic.

BEST FRIEND: Her trusty rat steed, Sir Hawthorne...but Scruffy Boy and Sweet Lady have become close friends too!

LOVE: Her devilish protector will always have her tiny heart.

WORST ENEMY: Anyone who has terrible manners and harms flowers or Pretty Boy.

Interactions

MINGLING: She gets along with others so long as they have good manners and aren’t big meanies!

COMFORT LEVELS: She’s comfortable talking to people but will steer the conversation by any means necessary if they stumble upon a touchy subject. The only time she’s uncomfortable is when people ask too many questions or focus too much on the past and future.

PHYSICAL: She’s very touchy-feely! Loves to give hugs and poke noses no matter her size at the moment.

GROUPS: She’s comfortable in a big group so long as she knows everybody, but even that doesn’t stop her since she’s very good at hanging around while not being noticed. But sometimes she wants to spend time alone with one or two people who’ll give her plenty of attention. 

OPENNESS: She opens up very easily up to a certain extent. It’ll take some patience and gentle prying to get her to talk openly up about her past.

GENEROSITY: She likes to give gifts to those who prove a friend to the Fae. She’d gladly lend money to a friend...so long as they make a deal with her in return. And it makes her very happy to receive gifts from others. 

JEALOUSY: Anyone that takes her Pretty Boy’s attention away from her makes her feel incredibly jealous! But pulling a few pranks on the offender always makes her feel better.

TEMPER: She’s easily worked up thanks to the capricious nature of pixies.

EMPATHY: She can empathize but sometimes she doesn’t understand the reasons behind some mortal’s feelings, which leads to a misunderstanding if no one explains.

AFFECTION: Lots of hugs and “fairy’s sugar” with the occasional gift or helping hand with her fairy dust.

DISTASTE: Her fairy light will flash red as she blows many raspberries right in their face...and a few pranks if she REALLY dislikes someone.

ETIQUETTE: She has very good manners just like any fairy worth their salt! But most mortals don’t know the proper etiquette of the Fae...which may look very rude and inappropriate to them.

RESPONSIBILITY: She doesn’t like to admit when she’s wrong but will face the music when it all falls apart. Then, she’ll try to make up for her mistakes by any means possible.

SELF ESTEEM: She’s always had to stick up for herself until meeting the Prince since many of the Fae treat fairies born through non-fairy magic like her very poorly.

CONFIDENCE: She’s very confident in herself and her abilities despite being treated differently from her own kind.

HONESTY: She always speaks her mind unless she’s up to some mischief or feels that it might upset someone.

LEADER OR FOLLOWER: She’s a little of both. She usually follows but can take the lead if needed.

PARTY TRICKS: She’s an expert trinket finder, flower dressmaker, and can put dew on all the flowers in a meadow before the first ray of sunrise! And she also knows how to make pretty half devils blush.

PRAISE: Compliments and praise make her fairy light turn pink with joy.

FAILURES: Her capricious attitude can be irritating to some but her constant need to pull pranks is highly annoying.

CRITICISM: She doesn’t take criticism very well...she’d either burst into tears or swear pretty pixie vengeance on the unfortunate critic!

INSULTS: It depends on who’s insulting her. She’ll fire back with one of her inventive insults at some, but then get teary eyed at others.

EMBARRASSMENT: She’s not easily embarrassed but it still happens whenever she’s taken by surprise. Her fairy light turns pink and red as she scurries away to hide whenever she’s embarrassed.

FLIRTING: She’s VERY flirty...absolutely adores the way people light up and blush at her cute compliments.

ATTENTION SPAN: She has a very short attention span and tends to get  easily distracted.

SITUATIONS: She’s very good at breaking up difficult situations but has a hard time dealing with them through patient conversation.

Life

CAREER: Expert trinket finder and very pretty pixie for Pretty Boy! It’s a very fulfilling career for a fairy.

PROMOTION: She’s eyeing the promotion known as “girlfriend” at the moment.

BOSS: She has a great relationship with her boss so long as she doesn’t tease him too much.

DUTY: She assists Pretty Boy with her unique talents and magical fairy dust.

TECH: She has no idea how to use modern technology but would find it very fascinating if she ever gave it a try!

POLITICS: Not political at all.

COMBAT SKILLS: She’s very good at blinding people with her fairy dust and is proficient in mounted combat on her ratty stead with her needle sword.

HOME: She keeps her personal space very tidy and filled with many different flowers.

DAILY LIFE: She goes through her day-to-day tasks with an eager wonder of unknown adventures that might happen along the way.

INDEPENDENCE: Very independent since escaping the mages to live in the human world.

COOKING: She can’t really cook but loves to help from time to time by sprinkling her fairy dust over food.

BUILDING: She can’t do basic DIY but she tries to help with her fairy magic!

CLEANING: She always tries to keep her personal space clean but her fairy dust remains always present all over her pile of flowers where she usually sleeps.

SHOPPING: She doesn’t really shop due to her small stature and shyness around a group of strangers, but she likes to accompany her friends on shopping trips. But if she ever got her hands on some funds while in her bigger form...Ooh she’d be the most impulsive buyer in the human world!

DRIVING: She doesn’t know how to drive but it always looked like so much fun whenever she rode in the van with Crazy Lady and Baby Boy!

FINANCES: She has the biggest trinket hoard in all the shop! But she doesn’t quite understand why mortals value pieces of paper with pictures of old people.

MARRIAGE: Not married. She doesn’t know why mortals need a huge ceremony to spend eternity together, but she loves all the pretty dresses and flowers at weddings!

KIDS: No kids. And she has no plans to have kids herself, but she loves to make children smile and laugh with her mischievous antics.

PETS: No pets. 

DEPENDANTS: No.

LAW: To human standards? Definitely. But to fairy standards? No.

COURT: She’s never been to court. 

PRISON: No.

TRAVELLING: She’s been to many places around various worlds and different realities.

MEDICAL: She doesn’t trust doctors and always makes sure to have an apple on hand whenever someone needs to keep them away.

ILLNESS: No.

WORRIES: She worries for Pretty Boy whenever nightmares plague his dreams at night.

PEACE: She doesn’t mind peace and quiet but there’s music in the air around her thanks to her own whimsical singing.

PARTYING: She LOVES to go out partying whenever possible! There’s nothing like a good revel with lively music and vast feasts!

HOBBIES: She collects lost trinkets, makes dresses out of flowers, and finds mischief in the unlikeliest places!

[mixspixs]

OC Interviews!

Tagged by the amazing @welcome-to-gaydas ! :D Thanks dude!!

I’m going to do the interview for two of my dragon age OCs, Kian and Myraan.

Since this tag meme isn’t fandom specific, I’m going to tag @tessa1972 @shyshy-arts @kacchansass @yitamisdraw and anyone else who would like to let their OCs do some talking!

Interviews under the cut

Kian Lavellan

1) What’s your name?

Kian of Clan Lavellan

2) Do you know why you were named that?

I chose my name

3) Are you single?

No

4) Have you any abilities or powers?

I can touch my nose with my tongue

5) Stop being a Mary Sue.

A what now?

6) What’s your eye color?

Purple

7) How about your hair color?

Red

8) Have any family members?

Just my cousin and her husband, now.

9) Oh? How about pets?

I’ve never stayed in one place long enough to have pets. I like animals though, and used to help my cousin tend to our halla herd.

10) That’s cool, now tell me about something you don’t like.

Orlesian food.

11) Any hobbies?

My papae taught me wood carving when I was young. I’ve kept up with it ever since.

12) Have you ever hurt anyone before?

Yes

13) Killed?

Yes

14) What kind of animal do you associate yourself with?

A frog. Did you know that some frogs can change gender at will?

15) Name your worst habit.

Keeping my personal areas and belongings tidy

16) Do you look up to anyone?

Well, as an elf, I tend to look up to most everyone. However, I admire my cousin a lot. She was the one who first taught me to hunt and use my swords.

17) What’s your sexuality?

I’m attracted to men.

18) Do you go to school?

Nothing so formal. I was apprenticed to my clan’s Master Craftsman for most of my childhood, though, which is where I learned how to read and craft.

19) Ever want to marry and/or have kids one day?

I’ve never given much thought to either. With the right person, I might be interested in getting married. As of right now, my only interest in having kids would be via adoption.

20) Do you have any fans?

There’s a lot of fans in Orlais? They’re very common among the nobility.

21) What are you most afraid of

Butterflies

22) What do you usually wear?

When not in my armor, I’m usually wearing a soft tunic, leggings, vest, and scarf

23) What food tempts you the most?

Berry Pie

24) Am I annoying you? Well it’s not over

Okay?

25) What’s your socioeconomic class?

I’m Dalish. Take that as you will.

26) How many friends do you have?

Close friends? Less than 10

27) What are your thoughts on pie?

Delicious

28) Favorite drink?

I’m starting to gain an appreciation for wine.

29) What’s your favorite place?

There was this little glen in the woods where I grew up, shaded from the sun, covered in wild flowers, and with a little creek running through it just deep enough to swim in.

30) Are you interested in anyone?

Yes. Already answered.

31) Would you rather swim in a lake or the ocean?

I’ve swam in both, but there’s something exciting about the ocean.

32) What’s your type?

Intelligent, sarcastic, a fondness for wine, and hides his character beneath a veneer of arrogance and flippancy

33) Any kinks?

My kink is strangers staying out of my personal business.

34) Do you prefer to sleep indoors or outdoors?

I admit to the comfort of a bed, but I’ll always be at home beneath the stars.

35) If you could tell the world anything, what would it be?

If someone says they’re not the divine messenger from a god they don’t believe in, maybe do them the courtesy of listening.

Myraan Adaar

1) What’s your name?

Nezera Myraan Adaar

2) Do you know why you were named that?

Nezera was my mother’s name and I was named for her.

3) Are you single?

Nope

4) Have you any abilities or powers?

I’m a mage and have an affinity for lightning. I’m also a skilled herbalist

5) Stop being a Mary Sue.

A who?

6) What’s your eye color?

Blue

7) How about your hair color?

White

8) Have any family members?

My father and mother are still alive and living outside Starkhaven.

9) Oh? How about pets?

There was a stray cat I used to take care of and play with. I called her Clarence

10) That’s cool, now tell me about something you don’t like.

A kissass

11) Any hobbies?

I pass time with herbalism and hand-to-hand combat

12) Have you ever hurt anyone before?

Yes.

13) Killed?

I’m a mercenary. Goes with the trade.

14) What kind of animal do you associate yourself with?

An Ox.

15) Name your worst habit.

Steamrolling others opinions when I become convinced I’m in the right.

16) Do you look up to anyone?

Rarely. I’m rather tall.

17) What’s your sexuality?

I don’t care about the gender of my partners, if that’s what you’re concerned about.

18) Do you go to school?

I was taught reading, writing, history, and arithmetic by my parents. When my magic manifested, my parents found my teacher, Keraan, among the Tal-Vashoth, but I never went to any formal institution for schooling.

19) Ever want to marry and/or have kids one day?

Only if I meet the right person.

20) Do you have any fans?

Most people tend not to overly approve of “oxmen”. Even less-so if they happen to be a mage.

21) What are you most afraid of?

Drowning

22) What do you usually wear?

Whatever is comfortable, clean(est), and available.

23) What food tempts you the most?

I love anything flavorful and spicy.

24) Am I annoying you? Well it’s not over

Well keep going then.

25) What’s your socioeconomic class?

My father and mother were Tal-Vashoth, and not well received by humans when they settled outside Starkhaven. We made due with what was available to us. My father and mother saved up and bought a small lot of land and built a house and small farm. My father harvested plants in the woods to make into potions to sell at market. We were not wealthy by any stretch of the imagination, but we didn’t starve.

26) How many friends do you have?

My closest friend is Kian, though there’s a growing attachment with some members of the Inquistion.

27) What are your thoughts on pie?

I love a good meat pie.

28) Favorite drink?

Whiskey

29) What’s your favorite place?

Wherever I’m safe, sheltered, and unharmed.

30) Are you interested in anyone?

I’m involved with someone, so yes

31) Would you rather swim in a lake or the ocean?

I’d rather not swim at all

32) What’s your type?

Someone who makes me laugh.

33) Any kinks?

Plenty.

34) Do you prefer to sleep indoors or outdoors?

I have no trouble camping, but I do prefer the comfort of a bed and ability to bathe

35) If you could tell the world anything, what would it be?

Judging someone lesser or dangerous just because they look different is a really shitty thing to do

[issadai]

sentient peoples of issadai (pt 2): tousa

The tousa are a species of primate that received aetherial souls around the same time humans did. They aren’t as widespread as humans, who have proven hardier and better able to adapt to new environments, and live primarily in the jungles and coastal mangrove swamps south of the Mysskaean Sea (map). They have good relations with the human peoples closest to them, the Shuwafi, whom they trade with extensively.

Tousa are taller than humans, with the average individual standing about six and a half feet tall, and slighter, with long, thin limbs. Their species started out as gracile tree-dwellers, so at one time they had disproportionately long arms and hand-like feet. Their faces were also longer than humans’, with a snout-like nose, large canine teeth, and long opposable ears. Modern tousa have become bipedal land-dwellers like humans, and thus their body plan has become more human-like. Their faces, too, have become flatter and smaller-jawed, closely resembling the human face, though they have retained large, round eyes and a long nose. Most have pale or pinkish skin which flushes easily, gold or light brown eyes with little sclera showing around the iris, and coarse straight hair that ranges from gold to burnt orange in color. Their faces are heart-shaped, with broad cheekbones, a shallow brow ridge, and a low hairline that often has a pronounced widow’s peak. Their opposable ears are used extensively in body language, and their eyes retain the tapetum lucidum. Tousa generally have heavier body hair than humans, bordering on fur—except on the chest, belly, and face, which are usually hairless. They exhibit minimal sexual dimorphism. Tousa are semi-nocturnal; they are most active around dawn and dusk, and sleep through the hottest point of the day. Like humans, they live about a hundred years, and individuals with strong magic have the potential to live much longer.

The tousa vocal tract differs from a human’s; they have higher voices, usually in the alto or soprano range, and they cannot pronounce some vowels that are essential to the human languages. Because of this, a pidgin speech has evolved between the tousa and the human peoples they deal with, which omits vowel sounds that they cannot pronounce.

Tousa can interbreed with humans, but they’re much more fragile, physiologically speaking, so hybrid offspring are rare. Generally hybrids have a much better chance of surviving to birth if they’re being carried by the human parent. Most tend to take after the human parent in appearance, but it is common for them to exhibit tousa coloring.

Culture

Most tousa follow a semi-nomadic hunter-gatherer lifestyle, though within the last thousand years or so they have adopted agriculture from the human peoples they are in contact with, and since then have begun to build permanent settlements. They also rely heavily on fishing for food, and in human or mixed-species areas they can often be found working as fishermen.

The only major tousa city is known as Hle’alu. It is located at the broad, shallow mouth of the Eto’a River where it runs into Alo’ikalo’ani Lake, and consists of wooden structures that sit on stilt-supported platforms above the water, or on the hundreds of small islands that dot the river delta. There are no streets, and city-dwellers get around either by boat, navigating the channels between islands, or on narrow wooden bridges. Founded over five hundred years ago, it was built on the site of one of the first great tousa civilizations, the Eto’a River Valley Civilization, which grew up during their agricultural revolution. While the swamps that surround the city offer little in the way of farmland, the islands of the Eto’a River have been built up and expanded with earth over the centuries, creating tiered fields of rich, wet soil that is exceptionally well-suited for growing rice and beans, two main staples of the tousa diet.

Plentiful fishing and the rich farmland they have engineered has allowed the Eto’ans to devote time that had once gone to hunting and gathering towards the pursuit of art, music, and mathematics. They have also developed a writing system, Udu, which is written in ink on banana leaves, and used mainly for recordkeeping—at the time it was invented, Hle’alu had become a bustling center of trade, which it remains to this day. Farmers, craftsmen, and fishermen from villages both human and tousa travel to the city to participate in its floating markets. Hle’alu is ruled by a priest-king, who not only oversees the city government, but also performs the sacred rituals that must be observed on each holy day. The great temple and the priest-king’s palace are located on Gis, the large island at the center of the city.

Tousa are known as fine weavers, and their cotton is famous among the southern peoples for its delicacy and strength. Much of their clothing and other fabric goods are colored with an unusual reddish-purple dye called axim, which is obtained by collecting and boiling the mucus of a snail found in jungle waterways.

The primary Tousa religion, Qe’elateqa, revolves around a demigod hero named Ateqa. Son of the river goddess Yu’a, he is considered to be the father of the tousa, and the first sentient being in Issadai. They call themselves “tousa”, which means “children of the river” in their language, for this reason. According to tousa mythology, during the early ages of the world Yu’a, becoming lonely, created for herself a son out of the clay that lined her riverbank, breathing life into him. She named him Ateqa, which means “earth that walks”—because he had the soul of a god but a mortal body, he would someday return to the earth Yu’a had shaped him from. When Ateqa grew to adulthood, he left Yu’a to wander the world, awakening the sentient species as he went, and doing battle with the evil gods and spirits that threatened their safety. He was eventually killed while fighting Bedu, the leopard god of the hunt and of darkness, but the children he had with a tousa woman lived on to become a great line of wise and powerful mages. The priest-kings of Hle’alu have long claimed descendance from Ateqa.

[chaotic-good-hawke]

Scavenger Hunt, 2486 words

This is a (belated) birthday gift for the lovely and talented, @mocha-writes​! Featuring her OC, Solomon Trevelyan, and my own two OCs, Hela Lavellan and Ronan Trevelyan. I wasn’t planning for it to be so long, but I got a little carried away...anyways, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOCHA!!!!

**

Hela and Sera had gotten up very early that morning, before the sun rose. The air was crisp and brisk, the autumn winds cold off the snowy mountains.

Together they had managed to sneak into the Solomon’s quarters, planting a letter beside his bed, before hurrying away.

They couldn’t wait for him to open it.

The first clue to their scavenger hunt.

**

It took much longer than they had hoped, waiting for the sun to rise, meeting up with Ronan and checking that everything was in place, running here and there putting the finishing touches on things. It had to be perfect.

Hela and Sera currently hid behind Varric’s table in the great hall, mostly whispering as they waited for the Inquisitor to descend. It was hard to keep quiet, since boredom was instigating tickles and jabs. Their elf ears twitched when they heard the tell-tale creak of the door at the end of the hall. Peeking over the table, they saw the inquisitor approach the throne, twining a multi-colored scarf around his neck.

He had found the first surprise, obviously. Cole had not really hidden it so much as draped it across the door into the great hall, with the second clue tucked underneath it. It was made from scraps, a thing made from cast-offs, but lovely sewn together by the spirit boy. Cole had a matching one himself. He had said it was to keep the inquisitor warm.

They watched as Solomon found the basket behind the judgement seat, inside, Hela knew, was a book of romantic poetry, scandalous for its positive portrayal of elves and elven/human relationships. Ronan had looked hard for a copy, Cass finally pointing him to a dealer in rare books, that she blushed when asked teasingly why she knew the person sold near-banned romantic texts.

Solomon paused against the chair, adjusting his glasses, reading the third clue left with the book. His face held an air of concentration, but also surprise, perhaps bewilderment even.

“Y’think he needs a hint?” Sera whispered.

“Shh!” Hela replied, “Give him a minute.” Her tone was teasing, ears flicking in her excitement.

They didn’t have to wait long for the inquisitor to nod to himself and head for the door to the undercroft. So far so good.

**

The Inquisitor was gone long enough for Sera and Hela to relocate to behind the door to Josephine’s office. They were lucky it was still early and the hall wasn’t full up with dignitaries and ambassadors, so peering out into the hall they were able to see Solomon enter again, this time with a large purple silken handkerchief tied around the handle of the basket. Sera had embroidered it with little yellow bees, naturally exploding from a bee bomb. She had sworn a lot when she sewed it, pricking her fingers more often than not, but Hela had encouraged her and she was determined to finish it for Solomon.  

Solomon next wandered over to Varric’s hearth, easily finding a tome on archaic magic that Solas had found hidden away in the old library downstairs. It was leather-bound and pages were illuminated with diagrams and illustrations. It was a bit dense for Hela’s taste, but it was just the kind of thing the Hahren would like. The two tricksters watched him set it in the basket and pick up the next note. He read quickly and thoughtfully, sure steps leading him through another door down to the kitchens.

“See, he’s got this.” Hela said, standing up and stepping into the hall.

“Hope he likes the cookies.” Sera said. They had baked cookies last night, which he would find waiting for him in the kitchen. The ones they had made should be edible, which hey, it was only the third batch they had made together. And well, if they weren’t, they could work as impromptu projectiles, so win-win.

“Come on, let’s go let Ronan know it’s his turn.”

“Race you!” Sera said, speeding off towards the library, Hela laughing to catch up to her. It was going perfectly.

**

Ronan heard them before he saw them, spying the two rambunctious elves at the bottom of the rotunda, cackling and pushing each other. Hela gave him a salute and whistle, before pulling Sera out again, stumbling back in a rush.

Taking his cue, he exited to the balcony on the third floor, getting a view of the lower courtyard and stables.  If everything went as planned, Solomon would be emerging there in a few minutes.

As the wind ruffles his hair, he used a spell to warm his hands and considered what brought them here. It had been chance that had them all back at Skyhold. When Hela and Ronan had realized what day it would be, they had plotted together, recruiting other around Skyhold to their shenanigans.

And it was working, as he saw Solomon below. His cousin, however distant. Besides his grandmother, Solomon was about the only Trevelyan that Ronan would claim as kin. He was a good man.

Solomon made it to the stables, hidden from view, but Ronan had little doubt that he would find the carved owl paperweight that Warden Blackwall had carved. He had painted it white, with delicate plumage outlined and bright violet eyes. The burly man was surprisingly talented, a deft hand at crafts.

Ronan tapped his fingers against the stone, a smile on his face. He had found much here with the Inquisition. Freedom, friends, something to believe in.

His thoughts must have wandered farther and longer than he realized, for Solomon had slipped past his notice and was in the library, finding the gift wrapped in the seat he usually sat in when reading there.

Hela had sneaked a peak at what Leliana had gotten him. She was surprised, for they were a set of small elven ear cuffs, pointed and delicate, simple, yet elegant in design. Small enough to hide under long hair, as the inquisitor was wont to do with his ears, if he chose to. Hela wouldn’t tell him what the personal note said, uncharacteristically tightlipped about it, simply saying it was what the hahren needed to hear.

As soon as Solomon left the library, Ronan booked it down the stairs, entering the great hall, but sliding along the wall so that the inquisitor couldn’t see him. He was in Vivienne’s alcove, surely finding the new traveling alchemical set that she had imported specially for him. Practical, a shared interest. It was expensive, but Vivienne had waved away the cost, saying a favor was owed her.

Ronan barely managed to reach the large doors when Solomon descended, crossing to Josephine’s office.

In the War Room, set on the map, he would find a book of artistic landscape etchings from across Thedas. Ronan knew how much his cousin loved the scenery of Thedas, loved travelling and exploring. He hoped that he would enjoy have a stand-in for when he was stuck at Skyhold or at noble functions.

Ronan moved to shadow Solomon when he left, albeit with only a little success. The mage was not known for being stealthy. However, he was able to witness the inquisitor find the mug of hot chocolate from The Iron Bull, left at the bar with Cabot and kept warm with a minor spell from Hela. It also included a note that the man could raid Bull’s stash whenever he needed, a generous offer from the qunari, given his love of the stuff.  

He couldn’t quite see Solomon uncover the bundle left by Hela in the place Cole usually frequented, but since he headed out the door towards the mage tower, he must have found it. Hela had it made special, had her cousin Fenrir send it from her clan in the Free Marches. From her stories, Ronan wasn’t sure what to really expect from the clan. They were either the friendliest and smartest Dalish in all the world or the strongest and most likely to roast a lone human over a spit…most terrifying was the possibility that it was both. It was difficult at times to shift truth from fiction and exaggeration around the elf.

But anyways, she had requested and received a Dalish hair comb, carved with a Halla and an Elvhen blessing. And, because she felt that was not enough, she also scaled the apple tree in the garden this morning to pick a half dozen of the best ones she could find. More like used it as an excuse to climb the tree, but the sentiment was there.

The final gift, left in the mage tower, was a set of vanilla scented candles and bath salts from the Lady Josephine. She had noticed that the inquisitor enjoyed the scent, as the gifted woman noticed many things. But most importantly, the final gift included a map drawn by Hela and Sera that showed a path from the tower to the garden.

With Solomon now headed for the final gift and clue, it was time for Ronan to meet up with Hela and Sera. They wanted to see his reaction to the final surprise.

Ronan smiled broadly to himself. He hoped his cousin enjoyed it.

**

Dorian sat in the garden, in the shade of the gazebo, the chess board moved there, out from the sun. He had been there for most of the morning, Ronan escorting him to the place and showing him what they had set up. About ten minutes ago, Hela and Sera had arrived with food and drink, setting it up…artfully before running off, Hela blowing a kiss towards him as they ran.

The garden was still warm, even in the Autumn morning. There was some ancient enchantment that would likely keep it so year round, a subject that Solomon, Solas, and he had discussed in depth several months ago.  

Dorian fidgeted, the waiting agitating him. He hoped that Solomon appreciated what they did. When he was first approached about this whole convoluted endeavor, he was hesitant, not sure if it was something Solomon would truly enjoy, but Hela, and to some extent, Ronan, had convinced him. And he had to say, the gifts were well chosen.

He hoped Solomon didn’t notice how crowded the great hall was going to be, when he passed through. They had arranged to empty the gardens for the morning and afternoon, giving them privacy, so many more would be lingering inside.  

Dorian straightened his outfit again, checking that his hair was still in order, that a stray wind hadn’t upset it. He wanted to provide the best picture for his Amatus.

And he was his amatus. That tall, gangly man. Learned, intelligent, a secret sense of humor, an understanding that he loved. And it was no easy thing to think of it as love. It wasn’t something Dorian had thought to have, truly have. And it was still a new thing, really…

Dorian’s thoughts were interrupted by the door opening, loud in the peaceful courtyard, which heralded the arrival of his love. Solomon stepped into the garden, squinting through his glasses slightly in the sunlight, as he was wont to do. His long white hair was pulled back, but it shone in the sun. Dorian thought it beautiful, as he found many things about the inquisitor.

Finally adjusted to the light, Solomon saw him and walked over, a brimming basket of things held in his arm. He had found them all, of course.

“Amatus! What a surprise to see you!” Dorian exclaimed, a wide smile forming freely on his face. Solomon raised an eyebrow at him.

“Really? I was given a map with a very explicit path marked to this location, with hearts drawn around the destination.” Solomon had a small grin at least.

“Ah, that would be Sera’s work, or Hela’s, perhaps both.” Dorian amended. “But, you have found me, just in time for lunch.” Dorian swept his arm out to the array of foods, a carefully selected offering of several of their favorite foods. “And you have found all the clues, well done, Amatus. Please, have a seat.”

Solomon looked hesitant then. “This was really too much.” He lifted the basket. “I hardly deserve this effort. The time alone and the cost of some of these gifts…”

“Nonsense! This is entirely what you deserve!” Dorian exclaimed. Apparently loud enough that the until then hidden trio of Ronan, Hela, and Sera, from their place on the balcony above, could hear.

“You deserve it all, Hahren!” Hela yelled, before Ronan could clap his hand over her mouth. Solomon turned quickly to look up at them, while Dorian rolled his eyes.

“Oy, you do!” Sera added, causing Ronan to elbow her as he was wrangling Hela. The display above was a comedy of sorts, before Ronan managed to shove them towards the door, the pair of elves cackling all the way. They all waved, before slipping from sight.

Dorian sighed. “We should actually be alone now.”

“I deduce that they were the primary parties responsible for this?”

“Yes. When they heard it was going to be your birthday, they wanted to do something about it. They did manage to throw it together rather quickly.” Dorian said.

“Yes, they must have. I would assume they found out the information from the ambassador?”

“The spymaster, actually.” Dorian said. “I believe she let it slip to Ronan. And then once Hela found out, the plan was in motion.”

“I cannot believe you all went to this trouble over me.” Solomon said, he opened his mouth to continue, to likely say how he didn’t deserve it, to put himself down again. Well, Dorian wouldn’t give him the chance.

“We were all eager to do so, Solomon. We care about you. No one was pressured to do anything. And really, it is what you deserve, and I won’t hear another word about how much you don’t deserve the things or the effort or the care. We would be frightfully offended if you refused any of the gifts.”

“I…thank you.” He was blushing, breaking eye contact, showing that he really was embarrassed, but taking a seat across from Dorian. “I should thank the others.”

“There is time for that later, Solomon.” Dorian set his hand lightly on Solomon’s. “Their will be a gathering later at the tavern, if you wish to join it. Hela described it as either a chance to toast the success of our endeavor or drown our collective sorrows if it failed. But, we have the garden to ourselves for now. Leliana and Josephine have cleared your schedule, we have food, a chess board, and all the time in the world.” Dorian ran his thumb over his love’s knuckles. “Happy Birthday, Amatus.”

Solomon met his eyes again, a hint of tears forming, a humble smile on his face. Dorian smiled at him, before leaning back. “Now, I believe it is your move.”    

[lustriakeimark]

Chapter 1: Groceries

“Marcus… Marcus!”

Marcus heard his name being called, a wailing from a woman on a distant void. The sound was familiar and nigh, drawing him nearer from the source. He was engulfed by darkness, his sentience hovered to the sliver of light that trespassed his space. Like a black hole, he became a star stuck on the process of being devoured.

His consciousness returned. His eyes awaken from the circumstantial dream to the blinding light of noon sun over his windowpane and his heart thumped, loud and rushed. The ambivalent emotions of awe and aghast still hunted her heart, clutching and squeezing to plump.  He held her stomping chest, trying to ebb the wild and bursting throb. His ears deafened from the terrible ache of bellowing woman. The wrenching pain from the grip of a hand stung his flesh and cognizance to rouse up. He gasped with dire groan but immediately quelled by instantaneous panting. His sweat streamed down from his disheveled hair to his forehead, and his yellow flannel shirt drenched wet as well as his grey trouser despite the cold temperature of air conditioned room.

He looked up to the woman in her 20s, which he easily recognized as her 23-year old sister Chloe. She wore a white polo overlaid with cobalt blue coat and a fitted skirt of knee-length. Apparently, she just came from her Saturday work.

“Where am I?” he spoke, his words sloshing with shock and his upper body ascended.

“You’re in your apartment, idiot. You won’t wake up. You just remained shivering. What’s up with you, by the way? Do you have fever? Or are you having nightmare?” Chloe indifferently asked, her face mustered coldness and yet she was clutching her brother to death earlier, alarmed and terrified. She got up from the chair beside him, and calmly trudged, concealing a slight concern with her eyes scrutinizing his measly and jumbled chamber.

‘Thank goodness it was all a dream,’ Marcus thought, his expression released a soft sigh.

‘No, it wasn’t a dream but a nightmare so vivid and awful which make it more horrifying.’ He asserted to himself, his sigh turned back easily to a wary disbelief.

Incredulously unassured, he examined his place, disregarding the queries of his sister. The small glass windows, the grey ceiling with a simple bulb turned off, his varnished wooden table laden with his lamp, pens and books, the erect cabinet patched with stickers and notes, the tiled floor nestling his messy stuffs, his black fridge and his own bed beneath him, were all there. The modern place was evidently his apartment.

‘There’s no doubt, it was indeed, home.’ He deliberately figured out, his ashen face began to gleam pink, and the wild tide in his heart appeased down to a constant rhythm. Ascertained of comforting reality, he sunk down and laid on his fuzzy and buoyant bed.

“Nah, I’m not having fever. I guess it’s just some nightmarish dreams.” He caustically retorted, his lips simpering from delusional dread he had experienced. Plastering nonchalance, Chloe merely smirked and shrugged as being used to his brother’s idiosyncrasies. The rare presence of her sauntering to and fro in his apartment dawned late to Marcus.

“Wait, and why are you here? I don’t remember giving you my key.” Marcus partially rousted, his upper body facing her sister and his gaze was accusingly questioning.

He settled himself in this apartment for three years in a row, commencing from his fifteen years. The college he went was closed by, just a walk away. He wanted to be independent and do things alone thus he chose to purchase this apartment like her sister having her own house. Their parents were still healthy, dwelling on the countryside with his younger brother in a rustic and mediocre life. Being reserved with lofty precept of privacy, he reveled himself to clandestine solitude which allegedly ascertain himself being stingy of his privy stuffs especially his apartment key even to his kin.

“Of course you don’t, I put myself in trouble in snipping your spare keys to the forging shop. Well, it was your fault, putting your keys anywhere but I should commend your hiding ways, it was somehow clever, not on the usual shoe rack or the flower pots, rather on the corner of the gate. Maybe I should learn from you.”

She strolled, with her hands gesturing, her jaw lifted up and grinned, like an anime villainess explaining how she defeat her feeble opponent and how she proudly grappled her triumph. Marcus, being aware of his sister’s attitude, knew already that she was implying the opposite. The last part of her speech was entirely an air of sarcasm obscured by her crude snickers.

After flaunting and elaborating her sheer wit to his brother, Chloe continued to blabber words about how cluttered and disorder was his apartment. Her hands kept waving and pointing to scraps and unwashed clothes, emphasizing its lacked of appropriate arrangement and sanitation. Though a big chatterbox and haughty, it wasn’t for nothing. She was indisputably an astute and acute accountant, entitled as CPA.

Marcus, however, submerged his body on his bed, his mind drifting to another dimension of his own world. The blather of her sister began to fade, from echoing resonance to a stilly silence. His eyes remained open staring through the blue ceiling, yet farther and limitless. He perpended about his nightmare, how vivid and detailed it was like an actual scene happening on another time and space.

His mind shifted again to an image of an old woman roosting on her wooden chair, her curly hair was kempt and tied round, her skin was white, blotched with blemishes and wrinkled with time, and her eyes were deep, sparkling along the sun like an ocean glistening bottomless. She always wore her conservative fashion, a purple skirt extending to her ankle and a blouse of neat white. The old woman glinted a glance toward him, her lips contoured a brilliant smile. She was his grandmother, already dead for ten years. Dead as classified by the police, since she was gone missing for a long time, her body remained not found as her mother had told her couple of years ago. He remembered the tale of her granny, the mystical place of Seleria environed by the vast forest of Silva and herself, being the nanny of the precious mage. He was convinced this tale had triggered his meticulously detailed dream, resembling greatly on how his grandma described the Silva Forest and the Mages.

A booming sound pierced his imaginary domain, wrecking the glass of images to shattering pieces of his mind, putting halt to his old wandering memories. His awareness flooded back to him, from a bludgeoning torrent of a yelping woman in his front.

“…Marcus! Are you even listening?” Chloe yelled at him, her face reddened with infuriation.

“I’m sorry, I just napped a bit. What are you saying again?” Marcus replied, lost and perplex, trying hard to cope with the reality. Chloe’s facade sweltered of annoyance, her brother being absent minded was unusually vexing and somehow worrying.

“I was saying I visited our parents last week. Jonas was doing great in his study, but mom and dad was kind of disappointed without your appearance. Jonas said they were anticipating your arrival and thought I forgot mentioning you coming with me though I had invited you before. So, I guess you really need to drop by them these times. There’s a tinge of sadness when they saw me barging in alone. Don’t worry, I told them you were busy in your finals just as you said you were.” Chloe briefly repeated, her irritation soon vanished into sisterly solicitude.

Marcus reckoned the last time her sister had called. Last week for him was a tedious slog, his examinations every semester were a flaming time of his college. Yet, the feeling of completion and complacency of doing his best was worth the extreme heat like how he decided to filched some time off his weekend job. He supposed a three-day bucolic break with his family would be better than sprawling in his room for a day, and opportunely, he could inquire his mother more about her grandma fantasies especially the girl of her tale, Zariel. He surmised that through his granny’s tales, he could assuage the weirdness of his recurring dream and halt himself from overthinking.

“I think I could go this week. I got small cash in my card, and I already finished my exams, so just menial recreations at school. I guess I could skip that. How about this Monday, until Wednesday?” He insinuated, gathering his weight to get up from his bed.

“That’s up to you, but I guess that would do. And please, make yourself clean. Do something about that shaggy hair of yours.” Chloe dictated, her voice indicating command.

“I almost forgot, you need to buy this list. Just some groceries. Mom would definitely love that. And you need to cook something when you get there, that should be great. I already put some money with it, so no need to worry for expenses.” She added, her hand fixing the thick envelope attached with a short folded list, laying it on top the of table. Her stares eventually focused to his brother with his hands searching something on his cupboard.

“From the look of it, I bet train tickets would be far from my concern anymore.” Marcus chuckled, accustomed of her sister’s munificence. Given that she was a regular worker of the popular BWO Universal Bank for more than a year, he unhesitatingly accepted the offer.

“Thanks then. I will buy those by tomorrow morning. This Saturday was bustling weekend in malls, hordes of people is undoubted.” He explained, pondering Sunday would be more convenient to shop. His hand held a mug, raising it up, bidding her sister another cup and afterwards, emplaced it down to the coffee maker.

“It’s okay, it’s 1 PM already and I should be in the office by now. And please don’t over sleep, I was forced to open this room earlier.” Chloe responsively warned, her body motioning toward her sling bag.

“Bye then, just send my regards to our parents and Jonas. And call me if there’s a problem.” She dictated, her hands on the knob of the door, her pouch slung on her shoulder and her feet outside, stood on the corridor. For the last minute, she glanced back, checking the entirety of the room.

“I will. Goodbye.” Marcus adjourned while taking a sip from his cup.

A muffled slam concluded his sister’s departure, brimming his room a cool gust of quietude.

“So tomorrow is Sunday, guess I really need this three-day vacation.” He convinced himself, his eyes looking afar through his window. Outside, a canopy of lofty buildings stood, their heights were distinct with the sinuous roads eking its picturesque scenery and the sun, magnificent on its peak, illuminated the vast glasses of the city dwellings, yielding an ochre beauty of noon. A marvel of progress.

‘I guess the view would be more beautiful during night.’ He conceived.

“But still, the lingering breeze and the dazzling stars at night of the countryside beats them all.” His notions spun loud to an uttered words, weaved by a drop of nostalgia.

Just reminiscing his pastoral life brought him longing for his parents. Albeit it was only three months the last time he had visited them, he was still thrilled of seeing them in person.

He ambled toward his wooden table, filled with scraps and cans of soft drinks. He picked up the list his sister had left him. His eyes perused the tiny paper, and afterwards, his mouth became a purse of puffing mirth. His laugh amplified with his other hand dabbing his belly, triggered by the inane brevity of letters scribed on the bitsy sheet his sister called list.

“Groceries.”

05-17-2020

[lxiewrites]

WAAAAARRRRR

The start of the FIC WAAAARRR with @archaicsextoy and @coralreefskim

My genre: fairytale bakery 

Lance packaged up the half-dozen cupcakes, each one shimmering with magic. He wrapped up the small white box with a pink ribbon and a murmur of a spell. Spinning around he dinged the bell on the counter.

“Six coronation cupcakes for the fairy!”

A dainty hand flicked in the air before it dematerialized and popped up directly in front of him. He squawked in surprise and pressed a hand to his heart. “Allura, you know I hate it when you do that.”

She laughed, sounding like the prettiest of wind chimes. “I’m sorry, Lance, but it’s the easiest form of transportation.”

He gave her a look. “Uh, huh.” He shoved the container at her. “Just take it, you don’t want to be late for another coronation. Last time you fell asleep for 10,000 years.”

“That was because of the Marmorites!”

He waved his hand, brushing away her excuses. “Yeah, yeah, opposing houses, evil winter fae. Whatever. Take your cupcakes and go.”

Allura stuck her tongue out at him but taking the container nonetheless. “You’ll be there for the midsummer dance correct?”

“I’ll see how much I have to do here. Happy inter-dimensional traveling!”

She rolled her eyes before she dissolved into a shower of glitter.

He wrinkled his nose at the mess. Uh, she totally did that on purpose. “Uh, the herpes of the crafting world.”

He looked back up to his customers. “Who’s next?”

He let himself be swept away with the hustle and bustle of customers. Picking up phone orders, prepping big batches of baked goods for tea parties or other magical gatherings, arguing with fellow witches on the phone because no he will not make a poisoned cake for their revenge scheme.

His bakery might not have been the easiest to get to in the royal realms of the fairytale universe, considering it was locked in the inter-dimensional planes between worlds, but it was one of the best. The best charms and spells placed on his baked goods, guaranteeing infatuation, good luck, clear skin (that one was always popular) and the like. He had the best spelled decorations, no one else can understand how to get the realistic nature of his blooming flowers, fluttering butterflies, little guns shooting little candies, or even the small people dancing away on the top of the frosting like a ballroom. Or even the best taste. Other witch-owned bakeries couldn’t seem to get rid of the bitter taste of the magic in their baked goods but Lance had a technique.

Which was a secret passed down from his abuela and no one but either his protégé or his children will know until the end of days.

“Have fun at the princesses’ christenings!” Lance called waving goodbye to his last customer.

He heaved a sigh of relief when he turned the sign from Open to Closed. He looked out into the swirling vortex of blues and purples outside of his storefront. The single road in front of it the only path to and from his bakery, leading to the endless churning sky. He walked that path several times and each time he ended up somewhere different, but he turns back and has always come back to his bakery.

He knows some creatures like Allura can materialize but others have to find this place by other means. His mortal friend Hunk always told him he just had to walk down a path with the bakery in mind and he would end up in front of the bakery. While his friend Pidge, a technological gremlin, always told him they would just focus on their favorite baked good and they’d digitized in the middle of the shop.

He started to sweep up as much of the glitter herpes that Allura left him. Preferring his two hands over using a spell, sometimes magic just can’t get the job done. Only hard work, a wet sponge, and double-sided sticky tape can get rid of the glitter herpes.

The bell dinged and Lance didn’t even look up from his sweeping. “Sorry, we’re closed.”

He heard the door close and Lance braced his broom with offensive magic. “I’m sorry but we’re clo—“

He hit the counter, besom flung out of his grasp, gasping for breath as a dark wizard loomed over him. Magic eye zeroing onto him, enchanted arm gripping his neck to lift him off the ground.

Lance clutched at the ancient tree root wrapping around his throat, choking, nails breaking in desperation to remove the hand.

“From what I heard you’re the one to talk to about enchantments.” The wizard growled, sharp teeth glinting in the fairy lights that illuminated his store. “I need to break a curse.” He dropped him.

Lance landed harshly on his hands and knees, trying not to cough due to his throat. Hand to his throat he allowed his magic to heal his bruised windpipe. His voice was still a rasp when he sassed, “You didn’t need to choke me, asshole.”

The wizard crouched down, cruel smile in place. “But this is so much more fun.” He slapped the floor next to him, getting into his face. “Now, I need to break a life suspension curse.”

“As appealing as that is I don’t do business with dark wizards,” Lance spat.

The wizard laughed. “I don’t think you have a choice. I have a taglock on this place, you can move it as much as you want but I’ll always find you. You either help and gain the beneficence of Emperor Zarkon or… I will find your mother, your father, your sisters, and your brother. I know where they are, and believe me, I’m not above torture to get what I want.”

Lance gritted his teeth. Emperor Zarkon? The darkest emperor in the history of their dimension? Lance wasn’t born during his reign, only heard stories of him from his abuela. He was familiar with the cruelty of him, the families he tore apart, magical creatures he brought to extinction, and the years of darkness he subjected his kingdom. His family thankfully was safe in their own universe but even then they knew of him.

The story that was told was that Zarkon was a fair and just ruler, with a loving wife who was not just an advisor but also his top alchemist. Their kingdom thrived under their rule, the hub of science and magic until the announcement of his wife’s pregnancy. The kingdom rejoiced at the news, the thought of this perfect child of Zarkon’s fair kindness and leadership with Honerva’s intelligence and thirst for knowledge. As the date of his birth approached Honerva grew sick and was unwell by the time she was due to give birth.

Zarkon did all that he could but it was not enough. She died in labor. No news of the health of the child but it seemed that the infant died as well. Zarkon fell into the dark magic, neglecting his kingdom in favor for black market charms and slick dark wizards. He let his kingdom fall. His abused people starved and died, his country’s resources depleted to go to the impossible revival spells. Terrorizing his kingdom for the unknown ingredients, spreading the darkness until no one was left fighting under the belief he could beat death. Until a simple mage was close enough to Zarkon to set a life-suspension spell on him.

Lance did not believe anyone, let alone that kingdom, could handle a madman like that again.  One who believed he could cheat death, who would crush anyone in his path, even if the goal was impossible.

But he has his family, the loves of his life. He would do anything for them.

Even curse an entire dimension to another thousands of years of darkness? A voice inside him asked.

He didn’t know. And what they asked for was rare. He wasn’t even confident enough if he could accomplish to break that curse. Time.

He just needed time.

“Fine,” he gritted out.

A stupidly smug look stretched across his face, the smile strange and unnatural as if unused to the form. “Excellent. Be prepared for my next visit.”

“I’m going to need at least three months.”

The wizard barked out a laugh. “Three months? Do you honestly think that I’ll wait that long? I’ll give you one week.”

“Two weeks!” Lance squawked. He pushed up from the ground to his knees, persuasion in his voice. “I need more time than that! I have to hunt for those ingredients, not even telling the rarity of them. Two months.”

The root arm pinned him down by his chest; Lance could feel a few ribs crack. He groaned as the man applied more pressure. “I am not foolish enough to believe your tricks, witch. I’m sure you’ll find a way, but because I’m feeling benevolent I’ll give you an extra week. Three weeks you’ll have the curse breaker.”

“Fine,” Lance ground out. “Three weeks. And you’ll leave me and my family alone.”

That magic eye narrowed on him as he condescendingly patted his face. The doorbell jingled as he left, mockingly cheerful.

Lance ran his hands down his face scrubbing at his eyes. He pushed healing magic into one hand, making it glow a soft yellow light, and pressed the warm magic into his cracked ribs.

He bought himself an extra two weeks thanks to the charmspeak he was able to use. Three weeks. Three weeks to either gather the ingredients, put it all together on the new moon of rebirth for a cursebreaker that might not even work. Or find a way to hide his family and himself away for the rest of their lives.

He sighed and leaned against the counter, ribs feeling better. He looked down to check the damage but instead saw the front of his shirt sparkling. He looked to his palm to find a good amount of glitter.

He sighed again, head thunking against the glass container behind him.

Glitter herpes.

@coralreefskim your turn

Ao3

[an-upset-librarian]

Stardust and Fire -- Chapter 5

I’ve finally finished! I have plenty of sorry excuses for why I’m so late updating this fic, but you guys don’t really care about that. SO, as an apology, here’s a 6200+ word chapter. We’re finally getting to the good stuff, folks.

As always, please reblog and spread the word about this story, and leave nice comments and reviews! PSA, this particular chapter is unbeta’d so please forgive any awkward sentences or simple mistakes!

AO3   FFN  

             “Natsu! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Lucy screamed, her throat scratchy and hoarse from the screams that already crawled out. The drakon was laughing maniacally, his hands encased in hot red flames as he leapt from building to building chasing after a dark figure weaving through the crowded streets ahead.

             Lucy bit back a frustrated scream and stomped her foot. She steeled her nerves and coaxed the threads of her magic up from their slumber deep inside her chest and pushed the fibers of power out and into her skin. She relied on the instincts burning inside her and listened to their whispers, the whispers of the stars and the heavens telling her how to draw on her strength. She closed her eyes, imagining a net of power draping over her skin, enhancing her physical abilities. When she opened them, her skin was crisscrossed with golden veins of power and she squatted as she summoned her strength into her legs. She pushed off the cement sidewalk, wincing when she saw the cracks left in the concrete, and leapt up onto the nearest rooftop to chase after the wild drakon. She followed the trail of smoldering ashes, swearing to any higher power that the moment she returned to the guild he would be dead meat.

***

             The duo had arrived at the address listed on the job flier easily enough, and the instructions from the mustached man that greeted them were simple: take this case, which contained a priceless vase that happened to be haunted by a spirit from the Victorian age, and deliver it to his colleague in Hargeon, who would exorcise the spirit. He told them to never open the case, lest the wards and spells working against the spirit’s deadly intent be nullified.

             Since Hargeon was only a couple of hours away by train, Lucy decided it would be the easiest option. The job was quick and easy, and she couldn’t see how it could possibly go wrong. She’d know better in the future to never even think such a phrase if Natsu was around.

             When she learned of his motion sickness, she had to bite back a snicker. Of course, such a powerful mage would have motion sickness. He told her it was a part of his draconic heritage, and that every drakon- even Wendy- had trouble with transportation. While a tiny dark part of her relished in Natsu’s discomfort on the train for all the annoyances he’d forced upon her since her arrival at Fairy Tail, she mostly felt sorry for him as he slumped over in his seat, blubbering and gagging the whole way to Hargeon. He’d moved so fast once the train finally stopped moving as they arrived in Hargeon that Lucy almost lost him in the crowd, were it not for the fact that he was kneeling in the middle of the station kissing the ground.

             “Natsu, come on. It wasn’t that bad. We’re almost done,” She said, poking his shoulder with the corner of the case, “I’ll even buy you a reasonable amount of food once we’re finished.”

             His head shot up at her offer, a wide and bright smile on his face. Her gaze dropped to the predatory canines poking his lips. She hadn’t noticed how long and sharp his canines were before, and she wondered if he ever cut his lip on the serrated teeth. She’d learned- the hard way- that part of being a drakon was having enhanced senses, even by Fae standards. She shook her head of the embarrassing memories of conversations overheard and rolled her eyes when the pink-haired drakon pulled her out of the train station and into the familiar streets of Hargeon.

             Lucy hadn’t pictured being back in the small port city so soon, but the universe worked in mysterious ways. Everything was going perfectly fine until someone ran into Lucy’s shoulder, causing her grip on the case to loosen the tiniest amount, opening a small opportunity for the stranger to quickly snatch the handle away from her and run off into the streets.

***

             Lucy snarled at the drakon when she finally caught up to him, ready to scold him for using his very noticeable magic out in the open. Erza and Mira had quickly lectured Lucy on the importance of keeping her powers and identity hidden from the human world, and Lucy had never been the type of student to forget or disregard her teacher’s instructions.

             “Relax, I put an illusion spell up before I left,” Natsu said, giving Lucy a quick glance. She puffed out a frustrated sigh but the muscles knotted in her back relaxed when she focused on their auras to see the wisps of his illusion spell encasing the two of them and hiding their presence from the humans below.

             “That still doesn’t make running off all on your own okay.” She huffed. Her magic thrummed in time with her heartbeat, the threads of light pulsing on her skin as they ran. She could see the dark figure that had run into her earlier just a few blocks ahead and she felt a well of hot anger boil within her. Natsu gave her a concerned glance, feeling the fury writhing inside her through her aura.

             “Take a deep breath,” He muttered, channeling the rare feeling of peace he achieved during battle from his aura to hers. He relaxed when he felt her anger simmer down and her magic return to her body. “Man, you really gotta learn how to keep those emotions in check.”

             “I’m trying my best,” She snapped back. She felt a twinge of regret when she saw how Natsu’s gaze hardened and his jaw clench. A part of her knew that he was only speaking from experience. She’d seen enough of his friendly brawls in the guild to know that Natsu’s magic was heavily influenced by his emotions, just like hers. She could only imagine the destructive power he could wield if his temper got out of control. Lucy could almost see the inferno in her mind’s eye.

             Natsu’s power was not something to be trifled with.    

             “Alright, you can just stay back and I’ll get the case,” Natsu ordered. His gaze was locked on the man running from them, and she swore she saw a predatory light in those dark eyes of his, and a curl at the edge of his lip. He was enjoying this, she realized. The hunt, the chase. Lucy bit back a smile, his excitement contagious.

             “Sounds good to me,” She replied smoothly. Lucy had no desire to try and fight the man, despite what the primal instincts inside her said otherwise. Natsu’s lips parted in a devious smile and soon Lucy’s face mirrored his own.

             The wind running through her hair, the sounds of the humans below fading into the background, and the feeling of empty air under her feet as she leapt from building to building was addicting. An ancient part of her hummed in pleasure, relishing in the chase. Lucy made a mental note to ask Levy about the history of the Fae, and if they happened to be a hunting race.

             She tossed aside her wandering thoughts the moment Natsu leaped from the edge of the roof and out onto the empty street. The thief had mistakenly strayed from the crowd, believing he could outrun the two chasing him if he could get to a more open area.

             Lucy followed her partner, but kept to the shadows. Her eyes tracked every movement the thief made, from the way his knuckles tightened on the handle of the case, to the muscles that tensed in preparation for a fight.

             Natsu stalked towards the thief with a snarl. Flames licked up his arms and his eyes narrowed. He stopped a few feet from the thief and waited. He was too still, Lucy thought. Natsu was uncharacteristically silent and his body was eerily still. The only movement came from the fire caressing his skin. Lucy watched, enraptured, as the thief made his second, and possibly last, mistake.

             The thief ran towards the drakon with his free hand outstretched. A purple energy pulsed around the hand, and Lucy stepped forwards. Natsu only laughed, and sidestepped the thief’s wide swing. The thief was relentless, and kept jabbing and slashing that magical energy blade, but Natsu easily dodged and evaded every attack. It was almost as if he could foresee the thief’s attacks. Natsu’s smile soon faded, and a bored expression took its place. He sighed, and thrust a flaming right uppercut into the thief’s jaw, sending the man sprawling across the street. Natsu cracked his knuckles, and slowly walked towards the collapsed figure. Lucy let loose a breath she hadn’t known she was holding as the drakon kicked the thief and grabbed the case from where it had landed a few feet away.

             “Aww, I thought that when he stole this I’d get a good fight,” Natsu whined, walking to where Lucy stood. He kicked the thief again as he strolled past, ignoring the grunt of pain from the unconscious man. He tossed the case towards her, and Lucy caught it with ease. Before, she would have never been able to catch a toss like that, but she wasn’t a feeble human anymore.

             The coils of magic rolling under her skin faded away and she stepped out into the street to meet Natsu halfway. “Aren’t we going to arrest him or something?”

             “I’ll notify the council and they’ll come take care of him.” Natsu pushed back the stray hairs that had dropped into his face and pulled out his phone. Lucy shot a nervous glance at the crumpled form of the thief. She squeaked in surprise when one of Natsu’s warm arms landed on her shoulders. She jabbed her elbow into the drakon’s stomach- which he ignored as he spoke into the phone. Despite her surprise at Natsu’s easily shared affection, Lucy was grateful for his nearness. The adrenaline of the chase was fading, and with it came the familiar aches of magical depletion.

             “Man, that was boring, let’s go and drop off this stupid case so we can get something to eat,” Natsu drawled after hanging up on whoever he’d been talking to. Lucy let out a breathy laugh at his behavior.

             “Sure, let’s go,” She said, unconsciously wrapping her free arm around Natsu’s waist. She felt him tense when her hand touched his side, but soon he relaxed with another one of his dark chuckles. His grip around her shoulders tightened, almost too small for Lucy to notice. While the drakon was a pain in the ass, Lucy felt her friendship with him developing rapidly. Something about him called to her, as if he was meant to be by her side.

             Ah, there you are. I’ve missed you, her mind seemed to whisper.

***

               “I’ve found it!” Lucy exclaimed, throwing the doors of the guild open with reckless abandon. The wood creaked in protest to her unrestrained glee and the strength that came with it. At the sound of Lucy’s giddy laughs, most of the guild turned to face the demi-fae with wry smiles. Natsu turned from his moping at the bar and shot the blonde a weary smile.

             “I found an apartment!” Lucy said with a laugh. She hopped onto her stool next to Natsu, ignoring his sour mood, and chatted with Mira about her new home. With the award money from the job she and Natsu finished a few days ago, Lucy could afford a small, but lavish, apartment on Strawberry Street. It was a bit farther from the guild than she would have liked, but the place was too perfect to pass on for just being a few blocks farther away. She squealed about the bathtub and overall cleanliness. Mira was happy to ooh and ahh at Lucy’s gleeful description of the amenities.

             “Lucy, that sounds great!” Levy said, popping up at her elbow. Lucy, not bothered by the demi-fae’s sudden appearance smiled over at her friend and gushed about the window nook, which was perfect for reading. Her attention was drawn away, however, when she heard a dejected sigh from her left. She looked over at the depressed drakon, and playfully poked his shoulder.

             “Maybe you could help me move in, since you’re always bragging about those muscles of yours,” Lucy teased. The drakon barely even lifted his head in response to her teasing jabs, and only sunk deeper into his chair with another depressed sigh.

             “Ignore him, he’s just moping because Happy and Charle were supposed to be back yesterday,” Mira said, flicking her long white hair over her shoulder. Lucy bit her lip. From what she heard of the Exceed from Natsu, the two seemed to basically be family. Natsu talked about his friend like he was a brother, and Lucy sympathized with him. She’d been an only child growing up, but her mother’s spirits- Leo and Virgo and the others- had become the closest thing to family she’d ever really known. Her father, Jude, was always a distant man but he became cold and harsh after her mother’s death. Lucy knew what it was like to miss the one family member she’d ever had.

             “Oh, be nice, Mira. If I had to be parted from you guys here at the guild for as long as Happy and Charle have been away, I’d be just as sad, if not more morose-” her smile widened when she saw Natsu’s head perk up, “-besides, I really want to meet Happy. From what you all have told me, he seems like he could be a wonderful friend.” Lucy’s voice softened on the word friend. She had friends now, real, loving friends. While she’d only been at the guild for barely three weeks, her affection towards the mages of Fairy Tail had grown exponentially. Levy and Mira, and even Erza, were the closest things to sisters Lucy had ever known, and Gray was quickly becoming a dear friend. Even Natsu, with his gross eating habits and annoying tendencies towards violence, had worked his way into her heart.

             “Aw, Luce, keep talkin’ like that and you’ll get cavities from all that sweetness,” Natsu said teasingly, poking at her side. Lucy swatted his hand away, but without her usual determination. She felt pride swell in her chest. Natsu was coming out of his quiet depressed mindset and becoming his usual, cheerful self again.

             “Lucy, have you made contracts with those new spirits yet?” Levy asked, her brown eyes glittering with curiosity. Lucy smiled even wider, if it was possible.

***

             After Levy had disappeared for two days on a mysterious job request, she returned with a new silver key in hand. She’d explained to Lucy that she’d taken a job to translate a manuscript from Ancient Fiorean, and the reward was a silver key. Levy said it was Lucy’s welcome home present, and the blonde was at a loss for words when she held the silver key in her fingers. It had the imprint of a clock, and the name of the spirit floated in whispers through the air, Horologium.

             Lucy had summoned the spirit the moment she got up to her room, and quickly made a contract with the clock-like creature.

             In addition to the 10,000 Jewels for her first job with Natsu, they were rewarded a pristine silver key as thanks for their extra trouble with the thief. This key had a cross emblazoned on the edge, and she knew the spirit to be Crux. She’d summoned the older spirit the moment she returned to Fairy Tail and thankfully he too wanted a contract with her. From him, she’d been learning even more about Celestial Spirit magic. Crux could search for information on celestial spirits and celestial magic, and Lucy had plenty of questions for her newest friend.

             He’d told her of the mystical Twelve Zodiac, which Leo was the head of, and the power of the Stardress that could harness the Zodiac’s power directly into the Celestial Mage’s body. Lucy was thrilled, and couldn’t wait to find more of the Zodiac keys. Sadly, that meant she would have to return to Heartfilia Manor, where Leo told her three more Zodiac keys were hidden.

             Lucy hadn’t shared her secret plans to return to Crocus with anyone else in the guild, too afraid they would try to come with her. She knew she had to face her father on her own. He hadn’t searched for her in the two years since she ran away, so she hoped the trip wouldn’t be as grueling as it could be.

             As though sensing the change in Lucy’s mood, Natsu’s dark eyes turned to her, a question in his gaze. She shrugged away his concern, turning back to Levy to talk about her discoveries with Crux. Natsu was strangely in-tune with her moods and her magic. Most times he would know when she was about to have a glowing meltdown before she did. While Lucy’s magical outbursts were now few and far between, decreasing over time, she still had some minor magical explosions when her emotions got carried away. Whenever one of those moods struck, Natsu was already at her side, his very presence calming her down.

             Perhaps it was because he was the one to bring her to Fairy Tail, and the one to break her cursed locket- which she was still quietly fuming about- but Natsu and Lucy were becoming closer and closer with each passing day.

             Suddenly, the drakon shot up out of his seat, startling the gaggling girls next to him, his nostrils flared and he stared over at the guild doors with such an intense look in his eyes Lucy swore the wood would start smoking at any minute. His nostrils flared, and a bright smile parted his lips. Soft white light shone from under the guild doors, and then they slammed open, the light blinding those inside. Her ears popped and the hairs at the nape of her neck stood on end as the portal opened.

             “Happy!” Natsu shouted, tossing aside chairs and tables and running towards the front doors the minute they closed and the light faded. Lucy was still blinking away the spots in her vision, but she could see flashes of blue and white darting in the air above the tables.

             “Charle!” Wendy’s soft voice called, and the wind drakon shot past the bar and leapt up to catch a floating orb of white fur into a tight embrace.

             “Natsu! I’m back!” The blue cat said. The cat spoke. Lucy’s brain took a moment to put the voice of the blue, the blue, cat with his body. She quickly shook away her disbelief. She knew Happy and Charle were talking, flying cats, but seeing it in person was a different story.

             Happy was nuzzling into Natsu’s chest, relaying his adventures with his family, and Wendy questioned her own Exceed about her journey. Lucy noted that the female Exceed was not as elaborate and excited with her responses, but the blonde saw love for the air drakon twinkling in her blue eyes.

             “Finally, I thought we’d have to deal with a moody fire drakon forever,” Levy muttered. Mira giggled and disappeared into the kitchens to get some fish for the cats. Lucy stared at the tender scene with warmth blooming in her chest. She hadn’t seen either of the drakons look so happy before, and she hoped she would see more of their happiness.

             The whole guild relaxed after the Exceeds flew through the portal, and Lucy noticed Wakaba staring over at Natsu, his normally tense shoulders relaxed. Puzzled, Lucy turned to Levy and asked, “Why is everyone so scared of Natsu?”

             Unbeknownst to the blonde, Natsu stopped listening to Happy when he heard her question and his focus instead turned to Lucy.

             “Well, as you know, Natsu has a bad habit of losing his temper and wreaking destruction. He’s always had trouble controlling his fire, sometimes he’ll accidentally burn someone pretty bad. The last time Happy was gone he almost destroyed the entire guild and no one could get close to him without his fuse going off,” The demi-fae whispered. Lucy pursed her lips and glanced back over at the fire drakon, neither noticing how his ears were tuned to their conversation.

             “Although, since you’ve gotten here, he hasn’t been as temperamental. I wonder if that’s cause he has someone else to tease,” Levy trailed off. Lucy huffed. “I don’t see what the big deal is. He’s perfectly normal to me. Sure, he has a habit of burning things and tends to be more violent, but when I first got here I kept destroying things and accidentally hurting people and Natsu was the only one that didn’t give me a pitying look or coddle me.”

             “Hmm, yea you two do see pretty close,” Levy said, the corner of her mouth curling up. Lucy was too busy staring over at Natsu and Happy to notice the gleam in the demi-fae’s eyes. He was bouncing with energy as he whispered to his Exceed, then he bounded over to Lucy with Happy floating on magical white wings behind him.

             “Luce, I want you to meet Happy!” He said brightly. Lucy rose from her stool and extended a hand towards the floating Exceed, who looked at her warily. “Happy, this is Lucy. She’s new, and she’s gonna be our partner.”            

             The Exceed relaxed a bit and flew into Lucy’s arms and nuzzled into her chest. Lucy giggled at the shock on Natsu’s face.

             “Hi Lusheee!” Happy said, his voice muffled by her breasts. Lucy felt a blush dust her cheeks and she pushed him away and took a step back. “It’s nice to meet you.”

             “So, you’re gonna be a part of our team?” Happy asked, floating between her and Natsu. Natsu’s eyes narrowed slightly and his nostrils flared at Happy’s question, Levy sucked in a harsh breath, and even Erza appeared to stiffen. Lucy, who didn’t know why everyone was looking at her so intensely, automatically replied, “Of course, I’d love to be on a team with you and Natsu.”

             The drakon stared down at Lucy with wide eyes, his mouth agape. Levy was the first to start laughing. It started as a quiet giggle, then a loud echoing laugh. Soon even Erza was giggling along with the roaring laughter echoing in the guild hall. Lucy’s lips parted in shock at the guild’s reaction and she turned to Natsu, who was sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck with a light blush flushing his cheeks.

             “Why is everyone laughing?” She asked, edging closer to the fire drakon. Even Happy looked amused from his perch above the crowd.

             “Well, in guilds makin’ a team is super important. Cause your teammates go on jobs with you and you have to trust and rely on each other,” Natsu said, continuing with a sad smile. “And I’ve never had a teammate before cause everyone thinks I’m too destructive and out of control.”

             “That’s terrible! I loved going on a job with you,” Lucy whispered, drawing a shrug from the man beside her. “That’s how it is. I can’t say I blame ‘em.”

             Lucy tittered her disapproval. She nudged Natsu with her elbow and smiled up at him as she said, “I’d honestly love to be on a team with you and Happy. I think it’d be fun. After all, it’s always more fun when we’re together.”

             Natsu gazed down into her golden-brown eyes, an untraceable emotion welling in his deep green eyes. Soon a bright grin lit his face and he threw an arm over her shoulder with a laugh that shook his whole body.

***

               “Oi, aren’t we gonna kill some fairies tonight?” A deep voice rumbled in the darkness of the bar. A man glared over at his partner and rolled his eyes.

             “’Course we are. Just be patient,” He said, taking a long swig from his pint. The man reclined in his seat, tossing his long black hair over his shoulder and away from his eyes. He tightened the bandana around his forehead and glared over at his companion once again.

             “I’m just sayin’ that the Master personally gave us this job. I’ve been itchin’ to go out and spill some dirty fairy blood.” The partner growled. The long-haired man bared his teeth and snarled at his partner and leaned closer to growl, “I know damn well what the Master wants, don’t you question me you maggot. The girl will be ours and we’ll have our war.”

The cloaked partner lowered his hooded head and the long-haired man leaned back once again and said,“Don’t ya worry. Tonight’s the night. I’ve got the perfect targets. Small, weak, easy pickin’.”

             The partner peeled back his black hood, revealing a heavily scarred face that would send any sane man running. The man smiled, but the lack of the right side of his lips made it look like he was scowling. The long-haired man grimaced, then downed the rest of his beer, a trickle of the golden liquid spilling down his chin and dripping his shirt.

             “Come on now, we’ve got some fairies to hunt,” He said with a dark smile.

***

             The long-haired man waited patiently with his companion in the darkened alley way. He looked at the watch on his wrist and smiled.

             “Any minute now. The target’s three fairies, two males and one female. The chick’s got blue hair. We beat em, take em to the square and string em up. Got it?” The man said to the cloaked companion.

             “Master said to kill em.” He protested. The long-haired man growled and slammed his partner into the hard brick wall.

             “I said, we string em up. If they’re dead when the fairies finally find them, doesn’t make a difference. But if that bastard finds em while they’re still breathing? He’ll be furious. And that makes for a damn good fight,” He said through gritted teeth. The partner nodded, and the leader tossed him to the side.

             “Come on, we’ve got work to do.”

***

               Lucy was sitting peacefully before the broad dark wooden desk, staring so intensely at the shining screen of her laptop she swore her gaze would burn holes through the glass and metal. She’d been sitting in the uncomfortable desk chair for hours now, determined to write more in her novel and so far, she’d only written barely half a page. She’d finished moving into her new home a few days ago, thanks to help from Natsu and Gray, and decided to spend her free time working on a new novel idea. At the time, it seemed like a wonderful idea. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

             Her phone buzzed loudly from its spot next to her computer, and Lucy welcomed the distraction. She picked it up and saw a text from Natsu asking if she was coming to the guild in the morning so they could pick another job to take now that Happy was back. A small smile crossed her lips at his question. Now that she and Natsu decided to officially become a team, he’d been itching to take another job, not that she was opposed. The downside of her fancy new flat was the steep monthly fare. Lucy quickly typed that yes, she was going to the guild in the morning and yes, they could take another job. She set the phone aside again and turned her attention back to the blank screen in front of her.

             Cursing, the blonde violently pushed against the desk, sending the rolling chair- with her still sitting inside of it- hurtling across the smooth hardwood floors of her apartment. A wheel of the chair caught on the foot of her rug causing the chair to tip and sending Lucy toppling across the floor. Another foul string of curses fell from her lips as she pushed up and pulled the desk chair upright. Ignoring the flickering cursor on her laptop, she stomped into her kitchenette and pulled down one of her cream-colored ceramic mugs. Tea. Tea would calm her down. Whenever she felt sad or angry as a child, her mother would take her down to the estate kitchens and make her a pot of soothing chamomile tea with honey herself. Unfortunately, the once happy memory with her mother was now tainted by the truth of her father’s cruelty and betrayal.

             Lucy slammed the mug down onto the counter, accidentally breaking the stoneware and sending sharp shards flying across the kitchen. Sighing, she swept the sharp pieces aside and pulled down another mug. One thing she’d learned since changing into a demi-fae was to have plenty of backups for everything. She never knew when she’d lose control of her strength and shatter something. Today it happened to be one of the cheap mugs from the dollar store down the street. She put the kettle on the stove to boil and quickly swept up the broken pieces of the mug while she waited.

             The sound of her phone ringing interrupted the blonde’s cleanup and caused Lucy to put the dustpan to the side and hurry over to her desk, where the device was laying. She darted down the hallway, into her makeshift office and answered it just in the nick of time with a breathy greeting.

             “Hey Luce, I’m on my way to your place right now. I need you to stop whatever you’re doing and summon Loke.” Natsu’s voice crackled, his tone strangely serious.

             “Natsu? Is something wrong?” She asked, a cold trickle of fear dripping down her spine. She heard him growl angrily on the other side of the phone. “Natsu, tell me what’s going on.”

             “Levy and her team were attacked. By a rival guild. It’s bad.” He stated, his voice clipped and on edge. Lucy sucked in a breath and stumbled, catching herself on the corner of the desk.

             “Is Levy okay? Where are they? Who did this? Should I head over to the guild and-“ She started, only to have him interrupt her, “No! Lucy, I need you to stay where you are. You’re too far from the guild now, but I’ll be there in a few minutes. I need you to wait for me,” His voice demanded.

Lucy nodded, mumbling her assent. Natsu was right. She should stay in her apartment and wait for him. After all, the only key she had that could be used to fight was Loke and he drained her magic power too much to be summoned for too long.

             “Okay. I’ll wait,” She said. Natsu’s sigh of relief was loud enough for her to hear. He started to speak again when Lucy heard a noise in her kitchen, a high-pitched grinding most likely due to someone stepping on a piece of her broken mug. Her body tensed and she looked out at the dark doorway and towards the kitchen. She shakily walked away from the open door, her breath coming out in panicked pants. She collapsed against her bookshelf and pulled the largest book she had in her collection, an old Classic Literature textbook, and held it up above her head. She tucked the phone in between her cheek and her shoulder and reached into her pocket with her other hand but cursed when her fingers met only dust mites and lint. Her keys were in her damned bedroom halfway down the main hall, lying on her nightstand.

             “Lucy? Lucy what’s wrong?” Natsu’s voice called, snapping her back to reality.

             “There’s someone in my apartment,” She whispered, her voice barely audible even to her own ears. She heard him cursing over the phone and she summoned her courage and slowly crept over to the doorway, her book still held above her, ready to strike at the intruder at any moment. She sucked in a breath and leaned over to peer past the doorway and down the dark hallway. But before she could look, she heard soft footsteps entering the hallway and she quickly slammed the door closed and clicked the lock shut. Natsu’s voice yelled at her through her phone, but Lucy dropped the device in favor of having both of her hands free to fight.

             She still vaguely heard Natsu’s muffled voice calling her name from the other line and it helped calm her racing heart. She took a deep calming breath and reached down for her magic. She summoned the same power she’d used on her first job last week, the golden threads of light wrapping around her body. Her gaze sharpened and she tightened her grip on the book in her hands. Adrenaline mixed with the trickle of magic flowing through her veins, gifting her with even more strength and focus. She saw the shadow of someone’s feet stop in front of the door, and Lucy felt a snarl building in her chest. The rumbling growl caught in her throat when she heard three polite knocks on the door.

             “Miss Heartfilia? I’ve been sent to fetch you,” A lilting feminine voice called through the door. Lucy bared her teeth, determined not to say anything to the intruder. The voice called her name again, but she remained rooted to the spot. Her magic swirled inside her and bubbled in anger, as if it knew she was in danger. The power seeped through her pores and the soft golden glow she knew to be her magic filled the room, lighting the darkened corners the light from her small desk lamp couldn’t reach.

             “You give me no choice then,” The voice said again. Lucy prepared herself, her eyes locked on the doorknob and the lock. The sound of rushing water filled the air and Lucy’s brow wrinkled in confusion. Slowly, water seeped under the door and pooled in the office as if the liquid had a mind of its own.

Where was the water coming from?

             She realized it was magic too late. She realized she was trapped too late. She realized she’d never said goodbye to Natsu or her friends at Fairy Tail until it was too late. She realized she should’ve tried to break her window and escape unscathed too late.

             The pool of water swirled up in a vortex and formed into the body of a heavily clothed woman with curling blue hair. She wore a thick blue coat lined with white fur and heavy boots. Lucy decided she would question the woman’s odd wardrobe choices later, when she wasn’t being attacked or possibly kidnapped. With a wild war cry that even Natsu would be proud of, she threw the book at the woman with all of her newfound strength, pouring her magic into the muscles of her arm.

             The paper and leather passed through the woman’s body-which turned to water the moment the object came hurtling towards her, and smashed through the closed door behind the intruder. She heard the loud thud as the book few across the hall and smacked uselessly against her front door. Lucy felt the blood drain from her face, but she lowered into a fighting stance anyway. She snarled at the woman, who looked at her with a bored expression.

             “Juvia was sent to get two things: the Heartfilia girl and her keys.” The woman lifted a gloved hand, and pinched between two fingers was Lucy’s keyring. Pure unadulterated hatred swarmed her thoughts, her vision turned red and Lucy screamed at the woman and charged forwards, one hand thrusting out for her keys and the other formed a fist to punch the intruder in the face. She was inches away from grabbing the keyring, her fingertips brushing against the cool metal, before she was slammed back by a wall of cold water.

             Sputtering, she readied to charge again when the water pooled around her feet started climbing up her body. Lucy cursed and screamed as more and more water surrounded her. She thrashed and fought against the chilling waves, but it conformed tightly against her body until she could no longer move.

Nevertheless, she persisted.

She thrashed as the water reached her chest, writhed when it reached her neck, and screamed when it tickled her chin. Panicked, she quickly drew in a large breath as the magical water wrapped around her head, trapping her in a floating orb.

             Lucy grimaced and tried to swim up towards the edge of the orb, but couldn’t breach the surface. She smacked her hands against the invisible barrier blocking her from escape to no avail. Her lungs burned and her muscles shook with effort as she tried to push out of the water. The network of golden threads crisscrossing her skin flickered and faded along with the power dwelling in her veins. With a sob, she sank to the middle of the orb and clutched at her throat.

             The hot burning in her lungs was growing too much to bear. She fought against the urge to breathe, but her body ultimately gave in to the temptation. She needed air, she had to breathe. She gasped and opened her mouth, desperate for any air, but all that filled her lungs was that damned water. Gaping, Lucy choked and shuddered as her body began to shut down from the lack of oxygen. Black spots littered her vision and soon her world went to black, the whistle of her kettle starting to boil ringing in her ears.

[feynites]

I'm not sure if it's ok but I was wondering if we could see ♖ for Kel/Olwyn please?

Hair washing, Fen’Sulahn AU Edition!

Olwyn always had very lovely hair.

Thick and curly. Prone to frizzling with very little provocation, though she had always seemed to have some mixture or treatment or another that solved that particular problem. Most of the elves in Clan Lavellan had thick hair, though some sported finer locks. Hunters and warriors tended to keep theirs short, though, and Kel had never been an exception to that rule. There were a number of reasons for it. But, an important one was that cutting one another’s hair was a bonding practice between the two groups. Warriors tended to stay with the clan, to safeguard it, acting as sentries and a last line of defence in case of disaster. Hunters, on the other hand, tended to roam. Covering a wide range of territory, making sure to rotate hunting grounds to keep from over-taxing an area. But when the clan travelled, both groups worked together to keep everyone safe. Community and coordination were important. Trusting someone with a blade at your back was easier when you had already trusted them with one behind the soft skin of your ears.

Kel had missed some of that contact, with the Inquisition. She had been wary of welcoming any humans close, and many of the elves around were expected to maintain a respectful distance between themselves and Herald, and then doubly so with the Inquisitor. She had done Scout Harding’s braids, once. And helped Sera trim her bangs, though Sera had troubles sitting still, and had insisted that it didn’t need to be straight, and finally taken the scissors from her and finished the job herself. Clearly uncomfortable with contact.

“There. Done,” she’d insisted. Kel hadn’t brought the subject up again; she knew some elves who had a great deal of trouble let others cut their hair, or bring anything sharp so close to their eyes and ears. Not all hunters and warriors participated in the tradition, and only some of them declined out of vanity.

When her own hair started growing out, she’d taken care of it herself. Olwyn had found her at it, not long after the incident with Sera. Asking Sera to reciprocate had seemed chancy, and Olwyn herself obviously preferred her hair long.

“Why don’t you grow it out?” she had wondered. Not accusingly, at least. She had settled, tentatively, beside Kel. Wearing her orange robes; the ones that always made her look like a flower that had caught fire. “I have conditioners and oils that would keep it healthy.”

“I know some recipes for such things, too,” Kel admitted, carefully moving her razor-sharp blade over the too-long hairs by her temple. Doing the back, that was going to be the challenge. “But I hate the fuss, and I like a light head.”

Olwyn had nodded, accepting, and Kel had wondered for a moment if she might not find long hair more appealing. Something to touch, something to frame the face... she hesitated, just a little, on the next stroke of the knife.

“May I help?” Olwyn asked.

The offer stilled her even more. 

“Do you know how?” she couldn’t help but wonder. Olwyn only laughed, though.

“Of course! Circle mages can keep their hair however they please, though most Tranquil have it shorn. And I myself have changed styles a few times over the years. There was a time when I had it shaved all around the sides of my head, with the top braided. It was considered fashionable,” she explained, and held out her hand for the knife. An unhurried request.

Kel relinquished the blade, more relieved than not.

Olwyn’s hands had been very careful, and her movements steady as she put her scalp back in order. She had fussed a bit afterwards, too, producing a bottle of sweet-smelling salve from one of the pouches at her belt, and rubbing it across Kel’s scalp. It had tingled, pleasantly, and the next time her hair had started to get long, she had felt no hesitation in going to Olwyn for help. Hunter, warrior, mage - in the end, what was important was trust.

Fen’Sulahn has more beautiful hair than the Olwyn she recalls. Shining, gorgeous curls, often accentuated by glittering jewellery and decorations. It never seems to frizz. Never lacks for care. Kel once broke a brush handle in Olwyn’s hair, by accident, when they were recovering from a trek into the Deep Roads. She cannot imagine doing the same thing to Fen’Sulahn’s hair. It makes her angry, in a strange, petty sort of way, that it is so beautiful, all the time. Makes her wonder if Olwyn missed it a great deal. Missed this a great deal. Having jewels and servants and subjects, and hair that never frizzed.

What a thing to burn a world for.

Kel tries not to glare at the rubies strewn through her curls. Fights the urge to reach over and pull them all out.

Olwyn’s hair had been a wreck, at the end. Burnt and ash-strewn and heavy around her face, as she carried Kel determinedly towards the fold in time. As she stumbled.

Died.

Fen’Sulahn comes back from a hunt with her aunt. An event which has half the hounds and many of her entourage leaving, and Kel itches to go, too, but even the people who don’t much like her seem emphatic that she not be introduced to Andruil or her hunters. That doesn’t make Kel worry any less, even as she finds the absence of a good number of Fen’Sulahn’s people opens up more of her palace to be explored.

When the party returns, they are exhausted, and Fen’Sulahn is angry. Kel knows that face. It’s the same face Olwyn wore when she caught a visiting noble at Skyhold kicking one of the hounds. The same face she wore throughout a good deal of their visit to Halamshiral, and their treks through the Emerald Graves. When they found a memorial to ancient elven knights that had been defaced by Orlesian vandals.

The healer, Sympathy, rushes to the contingent; a messenger in his company.

“Where?” he asks.

“In the wagon,” Fen’Sulahn tells him, tightly.

She is without jewels, now. Her hair and clothes are streaked with mud, and blood, although she doesn’t look injured. Sympathy makes his way to the indicated wagon, which is the same one that Fen’Sulahn rode in when they party set out for her sister’s lands. Kel keeps back, watching, as they retrieve one of the hounds. Not one she she recognizes, she realizes with some relief. Haurshos is still by his mistress’ side, and most of the others she can name are milling around the wagon, ears flat and whines lingering low in their throats.

“What happened?” Sympathy asks.

“Andruil missed,” Fen’Sulahn says, tightly. “We did the best we could on the field, and came straight here. Will he make it?”

The air glows. A few spirits drift closer, radiating their own energy. Kel can only just see Sympathy behind the wall of fur, as the large hound draws breath, but seems to have been put into a deep sleep.

After a moment, Sympathy lets out a discouraging breath.

The party goes silent.

“Let us get him inside,” the healer orders. “Make certain he is comfortable. I will... do what I can.”

One of the elves in the contingent begins to sob, and Fen’Sulahn closes her eyes.

There’s a rush of activity, then. People carrying the injured hound into the healing chambers, and trying to wrangle the remaining ones so that they don’t all crowd in after him. The healing halls become much too trafficked for Kel’s comfort, full of magic and spirits and last-ditch efforts to heal the poor thing. His companion refuses to leave, and Fen’Sulahn herself stays until long into the night; and Kel wanders, watching. Removed in her distance, but still unavoidably captured by the genuine effort Fen’Sulahn’s people go to in order to try and save the hound.

Poison is the problem, she gathers. Andruil was using poison-tipped arrows, meant to slow down her very large prey. The hound, though large itself, is a much smaller animal, and the poison made it to his heart. It’s destroying his body faster than magic can heal it, and there seems to be no way of getting rid of it all. The only hope is countering the effect, but she gathers, from Fen’Sulahn’s tight responses, that Andruil would not share the secret of her poisoncraft over so ‘petty’ a matter as the life of a hound.

The hound survives until morning. Just barely, and its prospects still look dim. Kel watches Fen’Sulahn, as her gaze hardens, and she declares that she is going to parlay with her sister again.

“If you know the poison, can you save the animal?” Fen’Sulahn asks Sympathy.

“Possibly,” he says. “The odds improve a great deal. The wrong antidote could be instantly fatal, under the circumstances. If you cannot tell me what Andruil used, I will have to make my best guess in the next hour, or we lose the hound regardless. Nothing else has worked.”

The hound’s companion has finally fallen asleep on a cot beside him. Kel inches closer, as the lowered activity finally lets her. Many of the rest of Fen’Sulahn’s people have at least given up, after a long day of hunting and subsequent activity. The healing chambers are quiet again. Only Beauty has remained, with his own little dog napping in his sleeves; humming softly, and rhythm that seems to please the Spirits of Healing that are keeping the hound alive.

It’s pure luck, Kel knows. Pure luck, and nothing more, that she looks at the hound’s mouth, and sees brown specks in the foam lingering at the sides of it. And then carefully checks the paws of his feet, certain not to touch, and sees the purple bruises there. Felicidus Aria had been a rare plant in her time, nearly extinct, but there was a wild strain of it that Clan Lavellan protected near their wintering campsite. Normally, it seemed like little more than a harmless flower; good for some dyes and ointments. But combined with hemlock, even a little bit could make a thoroughly deadly poison.

The sort Kel knew tended to act in minutes. She had seen it used on animals before. Never for hunting - the meat would be tainted. But after the Blight, it was a good way of killing off infected wildlife. Lace some rancid meat, and put it out in Blight-touched lands, and kill the creatures before they could roam further north and spread the problem to the hunting grounds. Kel had been there when Deshanna and her First had tested their mix on a captured squirrel.

Brown flecks. Bruised feet.

She doesn’t know the name of the plant in this time, though. And she could be wrong. But...

Fen’Sulahn looks like whatever she is going to do, is not going to be pleasant for her. Whatever Andruil wants in exchange for the poison’s recipe is... probably a lot, then.

She approaches Sympathy.

“I know this poison,” she says.

The movements in the room halt. Even Beauty’s humming comes to a momentary stop.

“You what?” Sympathy asks, sitting up. “How?”

Kel shrugs.

“I have seen it before, I think. Brown flecks in the spit and bruises on the feet, and probably some other places too? It might be different. I do not know the name of the plant, but if you have pictures...”

She barely finishes before Sympathy is up and racing towards a set of shelves at the end of the room. He calls her, and she goes - feeling Fen’Sulahn’s gaze on her all the while. He pulls out a book, and then shoves it aside and grasps another one, with images more clearly overlaid on the pages. He makes her put her hand on the cover rather than flipping through it, though, and for a minute she feels an intense rush of disorientation. Like she’s flying through the pages herself, before she starts seeing the images of plants in her mind’s eye.

It takes her about half a minute to find Felicidus Aria. Hunter’s Trail, it’s called, according to the book.

She offers the name to Sympathy.

“That is one of the possibilities I was considering,” he agrees. 

Fen’Sulahn has followed them over, by then. And for a moment she’s bedraggled enough, and the outline of her in Kel’s periphery is familiar enough, that she looks over at her and forgets, again, that she isn’t Olwyn.

She reaches over, and pushed a muddy strand of hair away from her face.

Awkward silence ensues. 

Kel swiftly retracts her hand, remembering herself.

Fen’Sulahn purses her lips, but seems to decide against commenting on the gesture.

“Ghilan’nain makes many things for Andruil,” she declares. “Is this where you saw it? In her workshops?”

Kel sighs.

“I have never been to Ghilan’nain’s workshops,” she reiterates, for what feels like the thousandth time.

Fen’Sulahn still seems unconvinced.

But today, the persistent misconception works in her favour. And in the hound’s, too, because even though she doubts the word of a ‘broken construct’ would carry much weight with a lot of people, the possibility that Kel saw Ghilan’nain making a poison for her wife is apparently compelling enough to take the chance. Sympathy leaps back into action, focused as he calls for another healer to be woken up, and starts selecting ingredients from those that have been gathered. 

It’s strange, but Kel realizes that however advanced the healing magic of this time might be, the herbalism still seems mostly the same. Measure. Mix. Crush, steep, and pour. Somehow she ends up watching the process from beside Fen’Sulahn; her good arm folded, her mind gradually becoming more and more aware of the fact that if she got this wrong, then the hound might well die, and she could foot the blame for it.

Probably a good thing that she guessed right, then.

She can tell when, about an hour later, Sympathy tilts his head back and lets out a breath of unabashed relief; and the hound opens his eyes, and thumps his tail a little. Looking more bewildered than anything.

Kel barely has time to appreciate the moment before Fen’Sulahn reaches over, and wraps her arms around her. She freezes in shock.

“Oh, you did it,” Fen’Sulahn whispers, fiercely. “Thank you, thank you.”

She clears her throat, trying to ignore the sudden rush of emotion rising up in her. It’s harder, somehow, when she can feel Fen’Sulahn’s all around.

“I think Sympathy deserves most of the credit at this point,” she mentions. Mud flecks down her shirt, and Olwyn - Fen’Sulahn - sags in relief. She lets go of Kel after another moment, and moves to check on the hound herself, and to commend Sympathy. The sky is getting lighter, by then. Sympathy takes the end of the crisis as his cue to banish everyone else still lingering in the halls, though.

“You need rest,” Kel notes. He looks as exhausted as anyone, if not more.

But he shakes his head.

“I need to keep an eye on my patient for an hour or two more,” he counters. “Just in case anything goes awry. Then I will rest, and clean up, and look after myself. I assure you.”

“I will wait with you,” Kel offers.

“No,” he insists. “You have been tense and unsleeping all week, and that is no good. Go to bed now, and then you can worry over everything later.”

She raises an eyebrow at him.

“I thought worrying over everything was your job,” she jibes.

Sympathy manages a smile.

“It is,” he insists. “So I outrank you at it. Which means I get to keep doing it, while you are relieved from the duty. At least for now.”

It takes a few minutes more, mostly because Kel doesn’t think she could actually sleep right now even if she tried. But eventually, she relents. Heading off towards Sympathy’s chambers, where her own little sanctuary is located, not far from the healing room where the hound had been taken.

Fen’Sulahn is making her way down the end of the corridor.

And it’s not so much that Kel decides to follow her, as the she just sort of... does. Too aware of the exhaustion in the other woman’s step, too adjusted to the habit of looking out for her, of making sure no one in Skyhold might see a tired elven mage, back from a mission, and get some funny ideas. She knows it doesn’t really apply here. Fen’Sulahn is the leader of this place, and more powerful than she is in many, many ways.

But that doesn’t make her invulnerable.

When she reaches the door to her chambers, Fen’Sulahn halts. And then turns, halfway.

Her gaze meets Kel’s, and Kel abruptly realizes that this might actually be inappropriate behaviour.

“Did you want something?” Fen’Sulahn asks.

She hesitates. Too little sleep, she thinks. Too little sleep, and too much stress, and too many things lost. She cut her own hair, the last time she needed it. One-handed and silent, locked away in the privacy of her own little room. Sympathy would have helped, she knows, but she couldn’t bring herself to let him. There’s no kindness she could deprive herself of that would make up for her failures, no action that could ever change what happened, but sometimes, she can’t muster up the will to go looking for any kind of comfort.

Olwyn had seemed like that sometimes, too. Kel remembered. Watching her look at pretty thing in the Val Royeaux marketplace, and sometimes, she would offer to get her something. Just tentatively, uncertain if Olwyn knew the importance of gifts to the Dalish. Do you like that hairclip? I could get it for you...

She always turned her down.

Don’t waste coin on my vanity, please.

The request always seemed less like a coy attempt at humility, and more like a genuine plea. Kel hadn’t understood it well, but she had respected the preference. But now, she feels intimately acquainted with it.

“Do you need any help with your hair?” she asks.

Fen’Sulahn blinks. And then she casts her gaze up towards her forehead, and reaches over, and pulls some of the muddy strands in front of it again.

“It looks a mess, but a bath and a brush will do wonders for it,” she assures Kel.

“I could brush it,” Kel offers.

Fen’Sulahn smiles. Pity, still, colouring something in her expression, that sours everything in Kel’s gut, and makes her feel a fool.

“I can manage,” she insists. “You should rest. It has been a long day.”

With a tight nod, Kel turns, and does her best not to flee. She heads down the corridor, and back to Sympathy’s chambers; to her own room inside, with its small spare bed, and chest of things, and over-sized armchair. She settles down, fighting the sinking feeling in her chest. Black despair and grief, and bitterness. So much bitterness she can taste it on the back of her tongue.

When she finally manages to sleep, she dreams of running her fingers through wet curls of hair; washing blood from it into the waters of a dark and silent stream.

[theglassyhick]

Whose the Real Monster?

Don’t ask me ;w; It has been too long since I posted and I dun wanna talk about it ;w; Nothing bad, I am just lazy. BUT FIRST 

WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT?!?!?! Tis the character in this story, by the name of Michael.

Commission was done by my good friend @bluerainst0rm Go commission her, she is great. She also provided the prompt for this, so enjoy!

Words: 7083

Genre: Romance, Acton

Contains: Fluff, Violence

Setting: Fantasy World

Prompt: "Please stop! I'm not a monster!"

Demons descend on a small town. The only people who can defend it work with each to save as many as they can.

“You are out of chalk dust again?” The woman asked. Such a common and basic ingredient should be more well stocked. But when everyone needs it on a nightly basis…

“The Harvest Moon is tonight. Everyone says the more the merrier.” The shopkeeper said with a shiver as he scurried around the shop. “Here, I’ll find you what I can.” He turned around and pressed a burlap sack into her arms. “You are a wizard yes?” The woman nodded. “Good. These are dried Angel Petals.”

“Don’t you need holy water to make these? Where did you get so much?” The young wizard reached into the sack and pulled out the white rose petal. The edges were gold. “I… I have only worked with young ones. These are fully mature…”

“I’ve been growing them for years. Seven years, to be exact.” He smiled proudly. “with such a powerful ingredient, I had a feeling even a young wizard such as yourself could make a powerful warding pot.”

The wizard was too in awe to smile. “I-I need salt. And, and Hawthorne berries soaked in holy water, and spring water! There is a cauldron in my house!” She jumped a little. “And the blood of the spotless lambs! Come on, the warding pot we make will last for weeks!”

“But… The Harvest Moon...” The shop keeper stopped her. “You know how active they get. The Demons will be hunting for us. If you are right, then we need to get you somewhere safe. Stay with me and my wife.” The shopkeeper was walking back to the counter. “Just come back before the sun sets, alright?” The young wizard nodded as she left the store, clutching the Angel Petals to her chest. The shopkeeper cleared his throat. She blushed as she turned around and handed the sack of petals back to him.

“I’ll see you tonight!” She called over her shoulder. She strolled out of the shop and into the cobblestone street with a skip in her step. After all, Angel Petals were rare. She was holding diamonds. With those petals, a whole array of potions and enchantments were now open to her experimentation. Now, her research into celestial spirit summoning would skyrocket as well! “This truly is a red-letter day.” The wizard hummed as she walked to the tavern to buy herself a celebratory drink. “So, I will treat myself~”

She had arrived at her destination after ten minutes of walking. The tavern formed the center of the town. Five other roads spread out from the tavern. Most of the buildings lining the roads were homes, but a few had signs to indicate some sort of service. The town was a bit big for their isolated location, and well populated. Farming fields were outside with a few scattered homes. The wizard lived in a squat tower on the other side of town, towards the fringes. She opened the door and stepped into the tavern. Her smile fell. The tavern was empty, making the wizard frown unhappily. She was looking forward to a bit of boasting, a bit of teasing, and a lot of fun. She scanned left and right, then smiled as she saw there was someone at the bar. He was tall and slim, with a tarnished white cloak lined with black fur, and long black hair.

She looked down, adjusting her rich purple cloak so it was more of a cape. She fluffed her hair out so the long, strawberry blond locks cascaded down her back. Finally, she brushed the salt and chalk dust from her blue skirt and unbuttoned the top her red-dyed blouse. She was in a good mood. She wanted to have fun with the man.

“Clara, nice to see you tonight.” The barkeeper said with a smile. “Or, well, anyone.” Clara smiled back at him.

“They are just worried about the Harvest Moon. I almost forgot about it. I was so busy perfecting a spell, what day it was day slipped my mind.” She admitted with a bit of a chuckle. “May I have some wine please? And, who is he?” Clara didn’t want the stranger to know she had her eyes on him. With a wine glass in hand and full, she took a sip and listened.

“Don’t know.” the burly man shrugged as he rested his elbow against the counter. “He came in a few days ago. Doesn’t say much.” The young wizard smiled softly.

“Thank you~” The barkeep smirked as he got the message and made his way into a back room. The other man was sitting on the corner of the bar, sipping some water. The Wizard stood from her seat and walked over to the stranger, taking a seat beside him. The cup was raised to his lips was placed down as he noticed his company. “Hello sir! I don’t think we have been introduced. I am Clara, of the Starry Field.” She offered her hand. The man stared at it. Clara remembered the more formal academy greetings were not used in this town. However, he caught her fingers and brought them to his lips.

“Michael, of the Empty Void.” He introduced himself. “I didn’t expect to find someone invested in celestial magic so far from a library with star charts.”

“Nor did I expect to find someone well versed in void magic.” Clara smiled softly as she tilted her head. “Quite the unknown field.” Michael snickered a little bit at the pun. However, he did not turn to face her.

“It’s funny, cause the void is often empty, or referred to as ‘unknown’.”  He smiled as he turned to look at Clara. The celestial mage smiled as well, but covered her lips as Michael turned away in embarrassment. “R-Right… explaining a joke ruins the fun… Uh, sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Clara reached out and touched his hand. “It was a little unclear. I am glad you found it humorous though.”

“Let me get you a drink.” Michael rose his hand to order. Then realized the tavern keeper wasn’t here. And she already had something to drink. He lowered his hand slowly. “Um, I guess that is unnecessary…” He stopped talking when Clara giggled softly. Their eyes finally met, and she realized his were red. Despite the odd color, the eyes were still vibrant enough for Clara to smile at him. She reached out and stroked his cheek.

“Your eyes are beautiful. They are the same color as spring roses.” Michael’s only response to the compliment was a blushing face. He looked down at his hands. For a moment, Clara wondered if she had gone too far.

“Thank you.” The void wizard looked to the star mage with a small smile and with red cheeks. “I… I don’t get a lot of compliments, e-especially from such a beautiful woman.”

“Well now aren’t you a charmer?” Clara wrapped her arms around his, leaning against his side and pressing her soft chest against him. With the upper buttons undone, it was quite easy to see her breasts. Michael’s eyes widened and his cheeks matched the shade of his eyes.

“O-Oh…” Clara was well aware of where his gaze fell as she leaned further against him and looked up at his face. Michael’s eyes had to dart between her ocean blue ones and her exposed cleavage. He found both as desirable sights. He couldn’t decide which he wanted to burn into his memory.

“If I might make a suggestion, I would say the eyes,” Clara smirked when Michael’s mouth opened a little to express his confusion and his panic. “You remain a gentleman. And I would much rather spend the night of the harrowing Harvest Moon in the arms of a gentlemen.”

“Well, then uh, I guess I only have to pay attention to one amazing feature.” The compliment, while smooth, was not nearly as elegant as it could be. Clara still smiled at the compliment regardless.

“Do you imply I only have two amazing features?” The wizard batted her eyes shyly up at Michael. Yes, it was a cruel tease. But this Michael was so cute when he was flustered!

“N-No!” Michael’s eyes were wide as he shook his head quickly. “Not at all! It is just, well, you have many attractive qualities,” A shy laugh accompanied his assurance as he rubbed he back of his head.

“Dawwww, you are so cute,” Michael smiled at Clara’s compliment. “Don’t worry about messing up. I find your shyness absolutely charming.”

“O-Oh?”

“Yes. Usually strangers are so grim and tight-lipped. But you seem friendly,” The wizard watched with a supposedly kind smile as Michael became more and more relaxed over the course of their conversation. He was falling right into her little trap. The trap was further added to with the occasional tankard of beer Clara bought for the shy boy as they spoke.

“Tell me about your grimoire!” Clara’s eyes were lit up as she reached into her cloak, “This one is mine. Thanks to my neat hand writing, I can fit many spells in this lil thing,” She presented a leather-bound notebook. It was big enough to fit in just one hand, and not nearly as cumbersome as some of the massive Grimoire’s other wizards had to carry around. The wizard opened the book with a tipped her head back and a smile, happy to display her work. He thumbed through the pages and quickly eyed each neat line of text.

“What about your grimoire?” The strawberry blond wizard eagerly rested her elbows on the counter after he set her grimoire down. “I would love to see what kind of unique spells litter those pages~”

“Well, it isn’t a book.” Michael reached down and plucked at his cuff.

“Wait, you don’t mean to say…” The wizard trailed off as Michael pulled his sleeve back. Various ruins and spells were inked onto his arm. “You are a demon hunter.” She mused. Michael looked away.

“Folly, I know. But- “

“Heroic is the word I would use!” Clara’s hands clasped over her chest as she closed her eyes. “Oh, you go out in dark of the night, spells etched into your arm with a blade in the other hand. You track down the monsters who torment us, and do you best to protect us! It’s so romantic.” Clara smiled up at Michael. “Why, if I was staying at my home tonight, I would offer you a bed just for that.”

“W-Wait, you mean you… Uh you are- I mean are you trying to say that…” Michael blushed as he trailed off as he rolled his sleeve back down.

“So cute.” She smiled and stroked his cheek. “But the moon is rising, and I really must get to the shopkeeper’s. He offered to let me stay at his place with his wife.” She stood from her stool and brushed the dust off her blue skirt. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Michael of the Empty Void.”

“The pleasure was all mine, Clara of the Starry Field.” Michael’s jaw was hanging a little, staring at Clara as she walked away. He was surprised she offered to spend the night with him. Clara was waiting patiently as she neared the door. “Wait, Clara!”

“Yes?” Michael called to her just as Clara had planned. He approached her with her grimoire in his hand.

“You left this on the counter.” He offered the book to her. Clara feigned a surprised look before she accepted the notebook.

“Thank you very much.” She rested a hand on his chest. Clara pushed Michael gently until he was walking in the direction she so wanted.

“Well, I mean, w-who wouldn’t? R-Return it I mean!” He noticed Clara’s almost predatory gaze. Michael’s legs collided with something. Her gentle push sent Michael toppling backward into the booth, and she followed. As his back crashed onto the seat, Clara’s lips crashed onto his. It was a simple peck, followed by more and more kisses. The woman had her hands on Michael’s chest as she straddled his waist and peppered him with soft kisses. “C-Clara, I…” he trailed off as she held the kiss for a few extra seconds to silence him.

“Thank you~” She muttered against his lips. Her eyes gazed into his. She relaxed while Michael was stiff. With each kiss, Michael’s body softened. She ran her hands over his chest; beneath his shirt was quite a firm body, probably due to his occupation. Michael returned the favor by slowly raising his hands and stroking Clara’s back. She moaned lightly into the kiss and let Michael know she approved. The gentle and intimate contact and stoking only lasted a short time. Clara bit Michael’s lower lip, surprising him. He opened his mouth to say something but Clara simply took advantage. She deepened the kiss. Her tongue slipped into his mouth and graced his with gentle strokes, running over his teeth and the roof of his mouth. She moaned more to reward Michael’s firm strokes to her back. Clara gasped when his hands slipped to her rear and gave a squeeze. Michael leaned forward and pushed his tongue into her mouth now and took over the kiss.

Clara submitted, letting his tongue move around her mouth. She moaned as she felt his tongue swiping over her teeth as they two intimately kissed. Clara slowly pulled away, a small strand of salvia connecting their lips. She let out a muffled noise as Michael quickly leaned up and captured her lips again as he continued to massage her rear. Clara stroked his chest and groaned as she felt his teeth scrape against her lip. Her hand slid around his neck and pulled his head closer as she rocked her hips against his. The shy demon hunter below her groaned in response. She pulled away and pushed herself up, looking down and still gently rocking her hips.

“Thank you so much for returning my grimoire.” She purred before sliding off his lap. “If you are still in town tomorrow, you should really find me. We can continue this then~” The wizard gave a small wave to the confused young man. She left the tavern, quite proud of her work on him. She outdid herself.

The shopkeeper lived in a house attached to the back of his shop. Clara walked for another fifteen minutes till she was there once more, and the shop keeper greeted her kindly. The house was a simple place, just a sitting room with a double bed in the corner. A few windows completed the setting. The shopkeeper’s wife was kind and welcoming. Clara was soon sipping tea with the couple. All was well and good, and the wizard was starting to relax. She looked out a window and shivered though. The demons were descending upon the town.

They were all strange combinations of humans and other various animals. There were two kinds of demons: Major and Minor. The minor ones were all similar. Body of a human, goat legs and hooves, clawed hands, forked tongues. Lidless, beady eyes and wild hair. All of them raving mad as they hunted for anyone foolish enough to have not put up the basic defenses. The major ones were more terrifying. None of them resembled each other, and all barely resembled humans. Their eyes shone with an intelligent light as they stalked down the cobble stone streets and searched alongside their minor counterparts. The chalk circles around each house kept the demons from accessing the people hiding inside. Normal chalk wouldn’t work, but this special chalk was blessed by a preacher. They all stopped at the circles and hissed and spat as they refused to cross over the line. Clara smirked.

A demon turned to look at her through the window. It was an ugly thing who walked on four legs. Those legs were the same as a bear’s, while the body resembled a lion. It’s neck and head was a thick snake, and a scorpion’s stinger replaced the tail. The demon stepped closer and closer to the window. It sat on its haunches and continued to stare at Clara with those lidless eyes. Clara smirked and raised the cup of tea she was drinking.

“Cheers~” She told him. The shop keeper was staring at the demon oddly.

“Dear, um, how far away did you make the chalk circle?” Clara looked to the shopkeeper. Worry sprang onto the wizard. The shopkeeper looked to his wife as he awaited the answer to her question.

“Oh, quite far away.” She was smiling at the demon who was looking in the window. “But of course, the chalk isn’t blessed. It’s just regular chalk. I swapped out the bags.” The wife chuckled as she tilted her head. Her face shimmered as a glamour was lifted. The wife’s eyes were glassy and blank. She rose her arm to reveal scars had been cut into her. Ancient runes made this half of the spell label her as a puppet. The teacup shattered as it fell from Clara’s hands.

Clara pulled out a knife from her cloak and slashed her finger tips.

The Demon rose its arm and had the other half of the spell etched into his flesh. It said master.

Clara pulled her grimoire out of her cloak. She flipped it open to a well memorized place in the book.

The demon reared up and slammed his arms against the wall. It creaked and groaned. The windows fractured.

Clara swiped his fingers along the pages. The runes glowed with arcane energy and collected on her finger tips.

The demon reared back to slam against the wall.

Clara smirked.

The arcane energy flew and hit the wall. The demon was blasted back with the debris. Clara rushed forward and leapt through the new hole. She dragged her bloody finger tips over another five spells conjured five orbs of energy. They condensed into one orb in her palm and fired into the demon and blew his head apart.  She looked around and bit her lip. Demons were attacking the houses now. Upon seeing the major demon do it, they quickly realized it was safe. With nothing to hold them back, the town was quickly falling apart. Clara watched as Demons dove through windows and shredded doors apart. Families ran from their home and away from demons, while a brave few fought back with varying success. She needed to reach her house. She could make a warding pot and drive the demons away.

Clara leapt off the demon’s body and ran. Her feet pounded the cobble stones and made her presence clear. A demon dove at her with, its visage fierce and its arms spread wide. She flipped to a page in her grimoire, spread her blood along a spell and flung it at the demon. The spell exploded in a star burst pattern and dissolved the demon into dust. Another ran up to her. This one charged low at her legs, with blood-streaked hands. Clara already had another spell ready and flung it at the demon. A cluster of bright lights launched from her finger tips. They formed spears id flight and pinned the creature down. It shrieked and cried, but Clara left it behind as she charged down the street. Clara came to a stop in front of the tavern. She paused as the red light surrounded her. Everything burned around her. Lanterns must have been knocked over as people tried to escape. She took a deep breath. She had priorities. The demons had to be removed. The lives had to be saved. Then, the fire put out.

Clara ran forward and readied another spell as a group of seven demons burst into the square. One of them pointed out her and barked. The others followed with howls as they rushed her, some on all fours, some on two feet. She fired off a ball of compressed gas. It exploded into hot plasma and scorched the demons. Their screams were drowned out by the sound of the air roaring as it was heated then cooled. The demons were not the only danger to Clara. The fire was spreading. The smoke was robbing her of much needed oxygen. Her legs ached and burned. Each heavy foot fall sent pain through her foot to her calf. But adrenaline helped to keep her legs moving, despite how sloppy her run was becoming. She smiled as she spotted her house, which had three stories and there was taller than the other buildings.

Not all was well. Sitting in front of her door was a large, Major Demon. It was a beast of a creature, with scaly human legs, a bear’s body, and the long thick arms of an ape. The head was a lion, with massive tusks as well. The demon looked to Clara and smirked as it approached her. The wizard smirked back. She quickly turned around and dove through the broken window of a burning building. She flipped through the pages of her note book as she pressed herself against the opposite wall.

The demon charged the building, crouched low, and swung his head and arms up against the weakened wall. It shattered and the debris was sent flying at Clara. Her spell was ready. With a flick of her wrist she sent the glowing energy out to the flying debris. It was a pea sized ball of compressed gas and energy. The ball exploded out and sent all the splinters right into the demon. Shards of glass and wood embedded them self into the demon as it flew back. Clara ran out through the hole, flipping to another spot and swiping her blood laced fingers over the spell. She directed the energy to the demon, and what appeared to be a star from the sky itself fell onto him with the speed of a lead ball. It smashed into the demon and exploded into a bright, burning light.

“Thank you so much!” Clara said as she ran past the splat of gore on the ground. “I’ve been wanting to test that!” Clara collided with the door to her tower and shoved the key into the lock. She tumbled past the threshold and pulled the door shut behind her. The base floor of her house was empty of any sort of furniture. It was filled with shelves, and racks held dried or preserved ingredients. A stair case lea to her sitting room on the second floor. She rushed forward ad grabbed her first ingredient for the warding pot, which was a jar of Hawthorne berries preserved using holy water. Clara slammed the bottle against the inside of her cauldron. She moved to the next ingredient and pulled out flecks of glass from her hand.

The door was broken as a lesser demon forced his way into the house. Clara turned around, pulled her knife from her cloak, and threw it with a deft hand. The small surgical knife embedded itself in the demon’s throat. Clara quickly pulled her grimoire out and flipped open to the middle page and flung a bolt of light at the demon. It screeched in pain as the bolt bored a red hole in its chest and blasted it out of her house. Another ran in past it, only to be blasted apart by Clara. Her next move was to run to a different rack and thrust her hand past the dried ingredients to grab what she needed. She threw it over her shoulder and into the pot. There was a sigh of relief as the pot clanged.

“Next ingredient, next ingredient… ARGH, what was it?!” She growled as she darted to several hanging herbs. She snatched off several herbs, dropping them in the pot as she passed it. Five large frozen toads were thrown in next. Clara barked a quick sentence in an ancient language and set the wood beneath the cauldron alight.

A fist slammed into her chest and sent Clara flying through a rack. Jars shattered and bags burst. A demon bared down on Clara. He was slashed with jagged claws. The wizard held up her sleeve. The claws tore into the sleeve and caught on the fabric, which made the demon struggle to pull his hand back. The wizard below the demon began to recite a long spell. The creature lunged to bite her neck. She thrust her arm forward. Shark teeth met her bones.

“AHHHHHH!!” The ancient mutterings continued as energy built up on her finger tips. It exploded from her hand as she shouted her last word. The demon was blasted away, but rose to his feet and snarled. Clara dived for her grimoire, flipped to a specific page, and swiped her blood along a spell. The demon leapt again. Clara rolled to her back and released the ball of energy on her palm. It collided with the demon. The creature bloated before exploding into a shower of blood and drenched her and the notebook. She covered the grimoire with her arm, which kept the blood off. Clara picked some of the glass out from the back of her legs, her red shirt much darker than it originally was. She reached up to grab a leather bag of holy water and poured it into the cauldron. Her eyes cast to the door, where several demons were approaching.

She should have finished this warding pot by now. It had dragged on for too long. Clara pulled out her grimoire and winced. There was still glass in her leg. The four demons tried to crowd in. Clara prepared another spell, but never had the chance to use it. A scaled arm capped with a clawed hand grabbed one of the demon’s head from behind. The head was crushed in a blast of gore. As the body dropped, another clawed hand reached in and dug its claws into a second demon. Clara could clearly see the way long, hooked claws dug into the demon’s chest. The clawed hand wrenched the demon back, tearing the chest open and flinging it over the owner’s back. Clara finally saw the new demon’s head. It was a raven’s skull, with glowing red eyes.

The other demons turned to screech at the newest monster. The Bird Skull lunged forward and opened it’s sharp, hooked beak. It dug into a demon’s stomach and disemboweled the fiend, leaving it to screech in terror and pain. The final one leapt to slash at the Bird Skull’s eyes. Bird Skull’s arm shot forward and slammed into its head to pin it to the ground. Upon second glance, it was not just an arm. A thick, black, leathery membrane was attached to the arm making it a wing. Using the wing arm, he slammed the demon’s head into the ground until there was a crack. Bird Skull finally walked into the house, through the hole Clara had made. She gaped.

The demon stood well over seven feet tall. She could see more of him aside from a horrid head and leathery wings. His body was covered in some sort of leathery hide. Bones sat on his skin and were armor for him. An entire ribcage protected his chest, while spinal segments protected his back. His arms were coated in dark scales and his hands were tipped with sharp claws. It had a tail, long and prehensile, and tipped with an arrow shaped, sharp looking bone. It was long enough to drag along the ground, and was probably used for balance.

The Bird Skull Demon looked down on Clara as his wings settled onto his shoulders and covered his body to be a leathery cloak. He tilted his head as he looked down on her. With the moonlight flowing in behind the demon, his black scales took on a bluish sheen. He had a belt with a bundle of three rods hanging from it, as well as a sword with a long and curved blade. Most demon’s used claws and teeth. Clara thought to herself and tried to formulate a plan. She had a spell ready. She rose her hand, and the demon did as well. She paused.

“If you can keep the demons away from me, I can make a warding pot.” The wizard let her hand lower, and the determined glare on her face melted into a friendlier smile. The demon breathed slowly, then nodded at Clara’s statement. He ducked his head to leave, and Clara turned her attention to her warding pot. She just needed to finish it.

Bird Skull towered above the other demons at seven feet six inches. They had noticed by now something was off about one of their stronger kin. The lesser demons formed a circle around him barking and gnashing their teeth. Their ransacking of the village evolved to silent tension. A few burnt buildings crackled, but no one flinched. A beam fell from the rafters and crashed into the ground. The ceiling followed.

A lesser demon flung itself at the Bird Skull demon’s back. Bird Skull’s wing extended from his back and slammed into the demon. The lesser Demon hit the ground with a thump. Bird Skull stepped up and stabbed his talons into the lesser demon’s chest, digging them into the demon and crushing the ribcage before pushing the bone shards into his lungs and organs with a stomp.

Another Demon leapt at Bird Skull. Using his talons, Bird Skull grabbed the demon beneath him and spun around, throwing the body at the leaping one. They collided in the air. Bird Skull rushed forward and snatched the still living one from the air by the arm. He grabbed onto the lesser demon’s shoulder and tore the arm off with a loud ripping noise. It screeched in pain before being slammed to the ground. Bird Skull dug his claws into his throat and tore the soft flesh as he stood.

The rest descended on him, tired of this silly one at a time game. Bird Skull drew his sword in a clean stroke and slashed open a lesser demon. He whipped around to his right and slashed another one before ducking under a third’s swipe. His sinuous slash continued and severed the legs of several demons. As the arc ended, Bird Skull flipped the blade around to a reverse style. He rose to his feet as he spun and slashed at those around him in a circle, forcing the lesser demons to back off and give him some breathing room. He pulled the bundle of three rods from his belt. Several demons charged at him. Two to his right, one in front, and the fourth leaping at his back.

Bird Skull stepped forward and sunk his sword into the Lesser Demon’s chest and released it. The one about to land on his back was smacked away by his wings. He twisted to his right and faced the two lesser demons. The first slashed with his claws, only to have Bird Skull smash his rods against the lesser Demon’s hands and shatter the bones with a crunch. Bird Skull’s empty hand grabbed onto the demon’s hand and quickly slammed it against the demon next to him. The demon was knocked to the ground, allowing Bird Skull to slash his throat out with the talons on his feet. The one in his hand stared up at Bird Skull, who slowly raised the rods in his hand. The demon got a much better look. Three heavy looking, metal rods, each two feet in length. One rod was capped with a long, rectangular ruby. He slammed it against the demon’s head.

THWUMP

Again

THWUMP

Again

CRACK

Bird Skull let the demon fall with its head cracked open and leaking brain matter. The circle around Bird Skull widened. They all leapt on him. Bird Skull dived away from the pile, reclaiming his sword from a corpse. He jumped as soon as his hand was around the hilt, his wings sending him flying into the air as he landed on the roof of a house. The demons howled as they scrambled up the house to him. Bird Skull took a deep breath. He released a few latches on his bundle of rods. With a simple spin, it extended into a single staff. He connected the staff to his sword and formed a scythe.

The demons were on the roof now, leaping at Bird Skull from all angles. With speed and precision, each was cut down mid light. All who tried to approach him for a tackle were easily decapitated before Bird Skull would deftly swing his scythe and slice another demon into two pieces. Body parts, organs, and limbs piled around Bird Skull in a morbid circle, as not a single demon managed to reach striking distance.

A roar alerted Bird Skull to the approach of two more larger, more powerful demons. Wolf walked on four scaled, wolf-like limbs, yet had the body of a lion and the head of a wolf, as well as a pair of wicked horns. The Major Demon moved lithely from roof top to roof top in a subconscious display of skill. The other was a lot simpler. Stalking along the streets was a behemoth with the legs and head of a bull, but the body of a bear. Scales protected the beast’s chest and arms. It was nigh nine feet tall, and so wide it barely fit in the streets.

Bird skull rose his hand and drew a long cut down his arm. The cut ran beside a series of runes etched onto his scales. As the blood coated the runes, arcane power filled the etchings and made them glow with faint light. Wolf snarled loudly at Bird Skull

“Kin!” The Major Demons roared as it stalked along the gables. “Why do you slaughter your own kind? Is it not the humans who hate us without cause? Is it not the humans who have violated our sacred lands and branded us as demons? Speak, o’ traitor, and perhaps you may be reconciled. I understand that you may be one of our more…” Behemoth bellowed as he tossed his head back. “… Less organized ilk. But, you are still one of us,” Wolf sat on his haunches. His ears were perked, and his head tilted down in a posture of non-aggression. Bird skull seemed to think for a minute. A line of runes glowed on his arm as he threw his wing arm out. A tendril of darky, inky matter flew from the membrane.

Wolf jerked to his feet to leap away to a nearby roof, but the matter hit his hind legs and wrapped around them. He crashed against the edge of a roof, claws digging into the tiles as he tried to pull himself up.

Bird Skull dashed forward, wings propelling him through the air, and cut Wolf in half with a single slash of his scythe. Wolf’s entrails landed alongside his legs with a plop, his upper half soon following as the life drained from the demon. Behemoth bellowed in agony as he charged at Bird Skull. The treacherous demon leaped into the air with a flap of his wings, watching the massive demon miss and demolish the wall he had thrown himself into. As Bird Skull landed, more runes glowed on his arm. Behemoth turned on a dime and lashed out with a round house kick to Bird Skull. He didn’t expect the brute to turn so quickly, and was hit right on his shoulder and catapulted away. Bird Skull kept a tight grip on his scythe as he rolled across the ground and stood up, growling. Behemoth charged again, lowering his head to ram Bird Skull with his horns and tusks. Bird Skull charged back at the same time.

At the last second, Bird Skull dodged to the side and swung his scythe at Behemoth’s shoulder. The blade dug into Behemoth’s shoulder and allowed Bird Skull to use the scythe as a hook to spin around the demon’s body and landed on his shoulders. The blade was now under behemoth’s left arm, with the staff across his back. Bird Skull thought he had won as he yanked on the scythe to slice Behemoth apart. His scythe didn’t budge from its spot. Behemoth reached up and grabbed Bird Skull, throwing him through the air. He crashed into a burning building and bounced off the wall.

Bird Skull landed on all fours and darted off, running as a four-legged animal runs. Behemoth who roared and stepped forward with hopes of crushing Bird Skull under foot as the smaller demon closed the gap. Bird Skull dove to the side to dodge the stomp. He dug the claws on his wing arm into the ground as a set of runes lit up on his arms. Due to how big Behemoth was, Bird Skull nimbly ran between his legs as he made a line in the dirt underneath him. Once he was behind the larger demon, dark tendrils burst from the line he had just created. They wrapped around Behemoth and restrained him, at least for a while. Bird Skull kicked off from the ground and flapped his wings for the extra bit of force. He landed on his opponent’s shoulders and rose a taloned foot, kicking his scythe and freeing it from the tough scales of the massive demon. Bird Skull kicked off Behemoth’s shoulders. He caught his scythe out of the air and spread his wings, darting out of Behemoth’s reach and landing on the roof. He stood up and held his scythe at his side. Behemoth charged and swung his arm at Bird Skull.

Bird skull leapt off the roof and hit the ground with a roll. He spun out of the roll and slashed at Behemoth’s leg. A long streak of red followed the glistening blade as the beast’s tendon was severed. Behemoth twisted around and slammed his fist in the ground where Bird Skull used to be standing. Instead, Bird Skull had dashed under his legs and was already behind Behemoth. With another deft slash, he cut apart the Major Demon’s leg once more. Behemoth collapsed to his hands and knees. Bird Skull leapt up onto his back as more runes along his arm lit up. A ball of some sort of energy formed in his palm. It was black, and even though it was round, it appeared to be a flat circle of black energy. The edges seemed to be unstable and constantly tearing. Bird Skull quickly passed the energy to his scythe. It coated the blade as Behemoth reached up to grab him once more. Bird Skull slashed Behemoth’s arm off. He bellowed in pain as Bird Skull swung again, cutting Behemoth’s head off in a single clean slice.

There was enough blood to form a small stream as the body fell to the ground, Bird Skull smoothly stepping off. More demons circled him as the black energy faded from his blade. He held it in both hands. His hands shook. He coughed and retched. The scythe dropped from his hands as he fell on all fours. Bird Skull retched and hacked as he felt strength leaving him. He was not the only one to suffer this effect. The minor demons were retching as well as they ran away.

Clara was walking up, the cauldron floating by her shoulder as she walked around town. She planted it beside her, not noticing Bird Skull as the demons fled. The town’s people returned as well, spears, knives, and pitchforks in their hands as they killed any demon caught in the scent of the warding pot.

“There! A Major Demon!” Clara looked over and covered her mouth. It was Bird Skull, retching and hacking as the warding pot sapped his strength. The potion was stronger against major demons, which was why he had yet to escape. The townspeople were grabbing him by the arm and hoisting him up. He coughed more frantically. No… he was… speaking.

“No!” His strangled voice was hard to understand. “S-Stop! Please stop! I’m not a monster!” Clara felt a pang in her heart. She should look away. Demons were crafty. Yet, he had saved her, and defended her from demons so she could create this potion, knowing it would affect him. It was a selfless act. That, and his eyes. His voice. Clara’s eyes widened as she saw the tattoos on his arm. She rushed forward, shoving people out of her way. There was a man pressing a knife to the demon’s throat as he struggled weakly. He tried and speak again, but he was silenced. The blade was drawing blood.

“CEASE!” Clara grabbed the man by the shoulder and pulled him away, shoving him behind her. She rose her hand to her mouth and bit her finger till blood dripped from it. She reached out to draw something on Bird Skull’s forehead while chanting. When she finished, the bloody rune glowed red before the blood seemed to merge with Bird Skull’s skull, leaving the blood rune in place. She looked at the people around her.

“This demon is MY familiar now! He is under MY command, he is MY responsibility, and he under MY protection!” The towns people seemed to bristle, but the mumbles spread across the group. After all, she had saved their town and their lives. “Now BACK away from MICHAEL!!!” Blood was staining her teeth and dripping from her fingers. The demon at her side slowly stood… and began to change. As Clara turned around, she found herself face to face with the same black-haired man from the tavern. He looked down at her with tear filled red eyes.

“Y-You want… you want a demon like me?” Michael asked her gently. His arms were stiff at his side. He was in his usual clothes, but his cloak was gone.

“Half demon.” Clara corrected as she reached up and stroked his cheek to wipe away a tear. “Otherwise you wouldn’t HAVE a human form. And of course, I want you. You saved my life.” Michael sniffled a little, but smiled. “And…” She pulled his head down and pressed her lips to his. Michael’s eyes went wide. His hands lifted and landed on her shoulder. After a second pulled her closer. “You are a great kisser.” She whispered with a playful light in her eyes. Michael smiled down at her.

“And I REALLY need help cleaning my house.”

[ecotone99]

[FN] “If you value your life, my life, the lives of everyone in the city, do not wake up the princess”

Mist roiled across the cobblestone stones as the moon winked through the clouds at irregular intervals. A lonely stature clad in a frayed cloak walked quickly through the streets. With a bang, they threw open the doors to the pug. It was like a completely different world, the lights were bright and the people were rowdy. The clocked figure threw off his cloak!

The people paused and stared. A knight in shining armor raised his sword. “Cheers!” The knight cried. The place erupted once again. The knight made his way through the crowded place to the back tables. He slammed himself onto a bench and ordered a round of drink for the other 4 people there.

After getting tipsy, he asked the table “Can you guys tell me about the tower outside of the city?”

A bearded dwarf sighed. “You’re here for the princess too? You know that I might just be a legend, right? A 1000 year old princess in a tower guarded by a dragon? A human living that long is funny enough but the fact that she needs to be woken up by a kiss is stupid. If a witch wanted her to suffer they would have but a pain spell on her or something, and that kind of curse is harder then a pain spell.”

The knight chuckled. “Thanks for looking out for me but I’m mostly here for the dragon. If there happens to be a beautiful princess in the end as a reward, all the better.”

The dwark chuckled and chugged his beer.

* * *

The next day, the slightly hungover hero arrived in front of the tower. It looked like a typical wizarding tower, coned top, shooting into the sky, and magic symbols that had long decayed. The Oriental Dragon with it’s long body was coiled around the tower. From the knight’s distance it seemed like the dragon could wrap its body around half the perimeter of the average city if it wanted to. It was black with large purple horns pointing to it’s back.

Roar It raised its head from the cone top and stared at the knight. It was true that dragons were favored species. WIth just that roar it, the knight could feel the mana running rampant. His Shining white armor with gold designs light up even more. The rampant mana was drawn towards his sword. It had a white and gold design with a dragon on it’s handle.

SHOOOO The mana in a 40 foot radius was drawn into it. The dragon stared at the sword, it’s eyes widening. It uncoiled and ascended to the sky to create some distance. It roared again and the clouds parted making the sky clear. It’s figure cast an enormous shadow across the plains.

Opening its mouth it gathered energy, the dragon watched the knight. The knight dashed towards the tower, his sword running across the ground. The dragon’s body swelled more and more. When it was close to bursting, if squeezed his entire body, blasting out all the mana in the form of a black beam.

DOOM It streaked across the sky, hitting the earth in a second and shaking it. The knight quickly pulled out a sheild from its back. This was a multi colored scaly shield. It didn’t look that good, quite ugly in fact but as each of the scales lit up, the mana ran rampant once more and the image of a dragon appeared, tens of times larger then the purple dragon. This faint outline swallowed the black beam as he purple dragon adjusted it’s aim to follow the constantly running knight. The outline rushed towards the panicked purple and went through it.

Thump Thump The purple dragon was filled with a sense of dread and emptiness. It decided run. But it was too late. The knight had finished drawing his inscription circle. He stabbed his greatsword into the center. “God’s Avatar:Imitation!” He cried.

SIIII The ground evaporated in a perfect sphere with a radius of 100 meters in all directions. The knight stood on the patch of land the circle occupied, about half of a football field, balanced on a thin column of land, remained. The rest of the land transformed into energy that fueled the circle.

A semi translucent, humanoid figure rose up from the circle. Starting from the size of a mouse, then growing the size of a human, then to a orc, then a giant, then to the size of the tower. Eventually it grew to the point the dragon would barely take up it’s palm. As it grew larger, the dragon flew away faster. With a speed that the knight’s eyes couldn’t follow, the giant leaped forward, quickly snatching up the dragon from mid air. They tumbled into some mountains, crushing them. The sound was deafening and the impact even more so. All the glass in the city was shattered and the people were stunned.

The translucent humanoid, without missing a beat pummeled the dragon. By the third hit, the dragon was died and by the 5th, the humanoid had disintegrated. The earth shook and ruptured, the city was practically destroyed. The knight fell to his knees. He quickly took out potions to recover. With the knight’s measly mana of 5,000,000 points, he could only hold the skill for 3 seconds, hence why he got close to the dragon before using it. The knight quickly got rid of the circle, then he pulled out a teleport scroll and ripped it. He quickly arrived at the purple dragon’s corpse. Picking up a scale, he placed it onto his shield. The rest, he collected in his storage ring.

He ripped another scroll and arrived back at the tower. Make no mistake, each scroll was worth hundred of thousands, but dragon hunting was a very rewarding job. The knight entered the tower, going through each floor, and each room.

“Nothing. There’s nothing here???” Everything was barren, not even a scrap of paper was left. Whoever sweeped this place clearly did a good job. As the knight reached the peak of the tower he saw a stunningly beautiful women floating at the top of the tower. She was naked, her clothes probably stolen.

‘That dragon was one hell of a perv staring at her all day, how is she not cold while being so exposed?’ The knight thought. He reached out and pulled her down. He wasn’t gonna lie, this girl was hot. He smirked thinking about how she might ‘thank him’ for waking her up. He leaned in and gave her a deep kiss.

Her eyes snapped open, piercing, cold. The knight who had his eyes closed felt shivers down his spine. He snapped his eyes open and pulled back. The girl’s expression was gentle, her eyes warm. She examined her body for a moment, then with a snap she rightened herself up and clothes appeared on her. She approached the knight and hugged him.

“Thank you sir! It’s been so long since I was able to open my eyes, without your help who knows how long it would have-” She froze as she stared at the shield of scales on the knights back.

She took a step back. “Sir, are you a dragon slayer?” She asked with a beaming smile. “Ha, ha, so you noticed? Yes, I am!” The knight, eager to impress the lady boasted about his feats, from slaying the ice dragon, Ignoi to his travels around the world. The lady listened, her smile growing wider and wider. As they walked down the tower, the lady pulled the knight into a room.

She pulled the knight into a passionate kiss. Though the knight was caught by surprize, he was more then happy to go along with it. The lady snapped again and a bed fit for a palace appeared. The knight thought nothing of it, hile it was rare, there were cases of people inscribing themselves with spacial spells in which they could store items just like any spatial ring.

Stripping the knights armor off, she pushed him onto the bed. It had been a while since the knight had seen some action because he was traveling so much that he eagerly took off his clothes. She quickly stripped and climbed on top of him. Leaning down she whispered “Mister dragon slayer, my name is Alisha, the Dragon Tamer.”

The knight tried to get up, but like with the dragon, it was too late. A dagger had inserted itself inside his heart. Alisha got off the bed and drew a magic circle on the wall. A miniature dragon’s head protruded out of the wall. “Come forth the spirit of Olisha, the mother of all dragons! I offer this ones filthy blood and soul as tribute. Grant me strenth!”

With a smooth flick of her wrist, the blood on the dagger was sent into its mouth.The head spat out a ray of light, hitting Alisha’s chest, before disappearing back into the wall. If an aura master was there they would have been shocked. The aura surrounding Alisha which was previously dim and faint grew brighter and clearer. It quickly expanded to fill the room and then the tower! She was a walking war machine!

Teleporting above the tower she looked down at the cracked and destroyed land. “Hanna, last time you caught me by surprise, this time I’ll crush you.” This was the beginning of a new legend! The legend of the strongest mage in the past era, and her revenge.

“Rise” Alisha commanded the tower. In the depths of the earth a roar resounded. The ground rumbled and split once more as a creature, larger then anything humans could easily comprehend rose from the earth. 1/100 of a continent disappeared as a dragon of stone rose. The tower previously seems was just a little horn on top of it’s head, barely noticeable. It reverted to it’s true form- a throne. Alisha placed herself on it and the dragon flew up, soon to become a symbol of terror everywhere.

submitted by /u/Pause_Remarkable [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/3mjVnQM