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verai-marcel · 1 year

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Your Hearth Is My Home (BG3 Fanfic, Astarion x Female Reader, Part 1 of 27)

Summary: Not every adventurer wields a weapon. You, a hearth witch living near the banks of River Chionthar, are witness to a craft falling from the sky, and wondering if anyone needed assistance, ran down to find survivors. That was your first mistake. Going along with the survivors on their crazy adventure? That was your second mistake. Will you survive your next mistake of letting a hungry vampire bite you?

Author’s Notes: Full disclosure: at this point, I’ve only played through act 2 without romancing Astarion. So why the fuck am I writing some wholesome Astarion x F!Reader? Because I’m dumb and got spoiled on Youtube, and now I can’t stop thinking about the poor guy. Also this is heavily influenced by a couple of wholesome manga (“Life in Another World as a Housekeeping Mage” and “The Forsaken Saintess and her Foodie Roadtrip in Another World”), but I won’t be writing an isekai. You (reader) are from Faerun like everyone else. I’m just here to have some wholesome feels and hurt/comfort. Let’s go go go.

Tags: wholesome, cozy camp time, Astarion x F!Reader, slow burn, good alignment, BG3 Spoilers

Chapter Word Count: 1,843

Ao3 Link here, Darling.

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Act I, Chapter 1 - The Beginning

You are a hearth witch, living on the banks of the River Chionthar, making potions and herbal remedies for the small villages nearby. For the past three years, you’d been happier than you’d ever been in your life. You loved helping people, but you made sure not to reveal your real name, nor why you always wore long sleeves and gloves, even in the middle of summer.

But the nearby villages had been emptying as of late. News of the goblin camp that recently appeared nearby had first scared off the traveling merchants, and then the locals. You realized that you too should leave, otherwise you’d either have no more customers or goblins on your doorstep. You only had a dagger and a few spells that did little in ways of actual damage, so defending yourself against a horde of enemies was out of the question. So you began to pack up, figuring out what you could bring with you, and what needed to be repurchased once you reached your new home, wherever that might be.

On a warm sunny day, you decided that this would be your last day here. Your pack was filled, your cottage cleaned out. Tomorrow morning, you would take off to the east, following the river to the next closest town. For now, you decided to grab a few more ingredients for the road, and so, you were out by the river bank, gathering fresh herbs and mushrooms.

A booming sound followed a strong gust of wind that whipped around you, twigs and grass flying everywhere. Then you saw a ship crash nearby, the land and water being torn asunder, debris flung in all directions. After the chaos died down a bit, you went to go check for survivors. You couldn’t, in good conscience, walk away if someone might need help.

That was a poor decision on your part.

The first survivor you found was a young, dark-haired woman, passed out on the shore. She seemed standoffish, but after helping her up and giving her a drink from your waterskin, you convinced her that the best thing to do was to get out of the area and rest at your cottage while she regained her bearings.

A little while later, the two of you came upon the strange sight of a single arm, sticking out of a glowing purple rune. You and the young woman, Shadowheart, pulled the poor man out. He introduced himself as Gale, and also joined your party.

As the three of you continued back to your cottage, you came across another stranger. Skin as pale as marble and hair to match. Had some scars on his neck. Perhaps he got them on the ship? He seemed harmless enough. Another escapee of the craft that fell from the sky.

That is, until he tricked you into looking for something in the bushes.

If only he hadn’t touched your exposed neck with his bare hand. Then you wouldn’t have felt the fear, underlined by a desperation you knew all too well.

The leash is cut.

It made you empathize. And that was one rule that had been burned into your mind at a young age.

Do not empathize with the enemy.

Fortunately, Gale and Shadowheart talked him down from stabbing you. The man even apologized to you, though it seemed more for show than for sincerity.

Astarion was his name. He introduced himself with aplomb and decorum, and your hackles raised at the sight. A noble.

After a bit more conversation, they agreed that their shared affliction was enough of a reason to travel together and find a cure.

Swallowing down your general prejudice against nobles, you ignored him and made small talk with the others as you led them back to your cottage.

***

Your cottage had only one room, enough space for your bed, some storage for herbs and tools, and a work table for your alchemy. Most of your things were packed, but you pulled out enough to take care of your guests.

The yard to the side of the building was set up as a small campground for travelers to rest. You had figured out a couple years ago that for a small fee, traveling merchants would gladly rest on your land where it was safe, while you made them fresh, nourishing meals and cast spells on their bedrolls to make them feel warm and comfortable. You even managed to get a small tub built in the back to provide a warm bath for an extra fee.

It had been a lucrative idea, one that made you enough money to be quite comfortable out here in the sticks.

You may only know a few cantrips, but you had manipulated them beyond what most people did. Your mending cantrip could fix whole swaths of cloth, your prestidigitation cantrip could keep bedrolls warm all night, or baths hot for hours. It was why you had several repeat customers, traveling merchants who would alter their routes to come to your place to rest.

You told them of the surrounding area and cooked a meal for them, a simple stew with seasonal vegetables and herbs.

The noble said he wasn’t hungry. You supposed your poor peasant food wasn’t to his taste.

He can suit himself.

While the others were eating, you set up the campground. While you were quietly casting the comfort cantrip on each bedroll, you sensed someone watching you.

“Yes?” you asked, biting the inside of your mouth to keep from being snippy.

Astarion stepped closer to you. He remained standing, looking down on your kneeling form. “What an interesting way to use prestidigitation.”

You shrugged. You had nothing to say to a noble. You finished your spell and started to shuffle over to the next bedroll, but he remained standing in your way.

“Do you mind?”

“Not at all, darling.” He didn’t budge.

You let out a short huff and crawled around him. One bedroll left. Ignoring the man, you began the cantrip.

By the time you finished, you looked up to see all three of them watching you.

“What?” you asked, a little disturbed by the attention.

“I hadn’t thought to use that cantrip like this before,” Gale said as he knelt down to touch the bedroll. “How long does it last?”

“All night,” you responded, feeling a little proud of yourself.

Shadowheart was already crawling into the bedroll. “This feels amazing.” She buried herself into the cloth. “It feels like I’m sleeping on a warm cloud.”

Gale shrugged and followed suit. “Gods, you’re right.” He sat up and looked at you. “I don’t know how you manipulated that spell, but it’s absolutely brilliant.”

You felt a zing of joy. Your little custom cantrip impressed a wizard!

The noble watched you for a few more moments before he too, crawled into a bedroll. His eyes widened slightly. “Oh. My, this is rather comfortable.”

You jutted out your chin, but refrained from being too catty about it. Instead, you switched to being polite.

“Sweet dreams,” you said to everyone, and went about cleaning up around camp. By the time you were done, the three of them were fast asleep.

***

The motley crew thanked you and took off in the morning to explore the area, seemingly never to return.

You looked around at your unpacked things, and decided that it wouldn’t hurt to start off tomorrow morning instead.

Your plans were sidetracked once more, however, when the group returned that evening with a fourth member, grouchy and prickly as a threatened porcupine. After a couple of bowls of your herbal soup, she became a little bit less prickly. Lae'zel was her name, and she punctuated her Common speech with her Githyanki tongue. You found it a bit endearing, the way one finds a stray animal that always hisses at you endearing.

You cast a warming spell on their bed rolls once more, burned incense to keep the insects away, and made sure they were all comfortable in your little camp area outside of your cottage before going to bed.

The next morning, you got up early to make breakfast for them before they left to explore the ruins that they had found the day before. As you checked your rabbit traps, you noticed one of them was tripped, but the rabbit within was a mere husk, as if it had been dehydrated.

Curious.

You reset your trap and returned to camp.

“What’s that?” Shadowheart asked when she saw the husk of a corpse in your hand.

“A dried up rabbit.”

“That doesn’t sound appetizing,” Lae’zel remarked.

You shrugged. “I can at least sell the pelt later. Sorry, you’ll have to make do with another vegetable stew tonight.” You furrowed your eyebrows. “That is, if you’re coming back here.”

The four adventurers looked at each other.

“I think we’ve taken advantage of your hospitality long enough,” Gale said. We’ll start heading west from here.”

***

The group had finally left, and you had finished packing. You had been delayed by their arrival, but no longer. They truly seemed gone now, with the sun setting and no sign of their return. Tomorrow for sure. Tomorrow, early in the morning, you would set off—

You heard your name being called. Off in the distance, you could see Gale, waving sheepishly at you, followed by the others.

You sighed. Biting back your annoyance, you smiled and waved back. A customer was a customer. At least this group was entertaining, and quite generous with their gold. And this time, they brought you back some boar meat.

There was one new face, a man with a stone eye. He introduced himself as the Blade of the Frontiers, Wyll. He seemed nice, charismatic even. Someone who had the manners of a noble but the heart of a commoner.

They set up camp once more in your yard, and you unpacked just enough of your supplies to make them a meal.

"You look like you're ready to go on a journey," Gale commented as you all sat around the campfire, eating a boar roast with herbed potatoes.

"I'm moving. Many people have moved away because of the increase in goblins in the area, and a lot of my business has dried up. And having goblins this close doesn't make me feel all too safe."

“Any plans on where?”

You shrugged. “Not really. I was just going to travel until I found a place to settle.”

"Well, why don't you come with us?"

Everyone looked at Gale in shock, but then they all looked at you.

"You do make camp much more comfortable," Shadowheart finally said.

“And one of us would be standing guard at camp as well, so you would be safe,” Wyll added.

You saw no reason to decline. You liked most of them, save for one snotty noble. A constant flow of income would be nice, for once. You negotiated a decent wage and agreed to head out with them at first light.

That, dear hearth witch, was your second poor decision.

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Chapter End Notes:

Yeah, I basically made up a “hearth witch” class as a combo of druid, wizard, and cleric, but hey, welcome to Dungeons & Dragons, where homebrew classes happen all the time. Hope you enjoyed the fic! I'm actively working on the next chapter!

Update 4/4/24: All chapters are here!

#bg3 #bg3 fanfic #astarion #astarion x F!Reader #slow burn #female reader #baldur's gate 3 #your hearth is my home

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blubugg13 · 2 months

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Ok i keep seeing the Hogwarts Legacy MC or OC profiles and i decided to do one of my oc, Ozzy Elton. I kind of see him more as an important side character for MC. A 7th year Hufflepuff Prefect who is your local runes expert.

I finally found the person who made these templates. Credit goes to @kiwiplaetzchen

Don’t mind the S.P.E.W. Button but I did imagine that Ozzy would be a proud member if he met Hermione.

While i did the test for his Patronus i was very surprised, yet i felt like it fit him so well. The first thing i saw when i looked up the meaning of an Oryx Patronus is that they are proud and elegant. I don’t really affiliate that with him at all. In fact it was his adaptability is that i really think suits him. As i like to think that he quickly adapted to the wizarding world after Professor Weasley explained Ozzy’s hogwarts letter to him and his parents.

I absolutely love this about him. I feel like he would be an awsome friend to MC or just a great allie.

Another thing that i think is super neat is his wand. I also did the test for him on the official website. It says that:

The thing is, in Hogwarts Legacy, Ollivander’s family heirloom wand, is also made of Applewood. Which honestly makes things super interesting.

Background

Ozmond and his parents were a middle class family in London. They lived in a Terraced house alongside some of their neighbors. Flynn Elton, Ozzy’s father was a Head Gardener for higher class family. Darcy Elton, Ozzy’s mother is a seamstress, she usually does her own private work, i imagine her as an artist, she loves to paint and often draw her son and would sew him clothes. Pretty much his muggle life, his father and mother were able to afford him school, as he usually went to Sunday school. When he was 10 that’s when he started to show his magical abilities. His parents just walked in his room one day, and little Ozzy was just reading and then some books and quills started to miraculously float around behind him. They were pretty much traumatized. It wasn’t until Professor Weasley showed up to explain that their son has magical capabilities and that he was accepted into Hogwarts. A school for witches and wizards. His parents, now less traumatized, always knew their son was special. He loved to read and learn about the unknown, he always had a hard time making friends as when he played outside he would play in the dirt and pretend he was some professor discovering dinosaur bones. Flynn and Darcy would end up coming to terms that their son was a wizard a couple of months after Weasley told them the news. Instead of most parents that end up being weirded out by their children. They both came to cherish their boy, they were happy to know that their son was unique and boy were they proud. This was also their first time going to Diagon Ally were they got his school supplies and a Barn owl named Copper. They grew curious and excited for Ozzy after his first year of Hogwarts being sorted into Hufflepuff though he was almost sorted into Ravenclaw. He would tell them stories and talk about the things he learned. Their neighbors grew curious on were their son has been, as all Flynn told them was that, he got accepted into a private boarding school in the Scottish Highlands. Ozzy would continue going to hogwarts, returning home to London during Christmas break and for the summer. At some point he became Hufflepuff quidditch keeper and in his 5th year he was made a prefect, and this was also the year were he suprised his parents with a old english sheepdog puppy and they named him Alfie, he kept his badge all up to his 7th year were he heard about the new 5th year coming to hogwarts. (Honestly though i wish they added the head boys and girls in game.) Ozzy got his parents Alfie because he thought they were lonely without him. And bro literally about cried tears of joy when he found out dragons and unicorns were real.

Personality

• He’s an ambivert, as much as he likes talking about his nerdy interests, every now and then he enjoys being alone.

• He’s pretty active, he’s usually always on the go, and enjoys a good quidditch match as a proud keeper for his team. He loves hiking and would often times sketch out the scenery of the castle for his parents.

• He is neatly dressed, you can always expect to see him without wrinkles in his robes and his shoes shined. But don’t let that fool you, he enjoys getting into the dirt if means he can explore and find stuff. And not to mention whenever he rushes his handwriting it gets pretty sloppy.

• Pretty much never grouchy, this man is a rise and shine type of guy. He’s overly nice, and sometimes, tooo nice. Some people usually take it for granted just so they can copy his history homework. (Probably because they fell asleep for the 5th time.)

• More brave yet cowardly. But there are some things that he will refuse to do. He is calm in terrible situations yet he has those freeze up kind of moments. He needs a moment to process things before figuring out a plan. Other than that he will help you with whatever…just as long as you aint breaking the rules.

• A good in between on serious and playfulness. His schoolwork comes first, always. Then he has fun afterwards. Usually after long study sessions he would treck down to hogsmead just to goof off in Zonkos and then spend a good amount of his money in Honeydukes just eating sweets. (He has a major sweet tooth.) He would treat himself after all that work on his essays. A nice butterbeer would do him fine.

• Clumsy as in awkward clumsy and as in, he thinks a lot to the point he runs into stuff clumsy. He can handle old artifacts just fine. It’s just that sometimes he trips over his own feet because he just has a lot on his mind.

Overall

In conclusion, i was pretty much inspired off of Hermione. I thought about giving him a time turner so he could attend a lot of classes just like she did. But also be useful in a possible plot line were he and Mc actually had to go back in time at some point. Wouldn’t that just be fun. He tried to fit Divination and Muggle studies into his schedule, however Professor Onai is cool and all, the class just wasn’t for him. While muggle studies….yeah he tried but ended up getting weirded out by it and ended up dropping it. I definitely would love for him to be Hufflepuff Head Boy as i think he would have a fine leadership role as well as help others and look out for his classmates. Im really proud of him and i would love to make another character sheet sometime soon in the future.

In Game Pictures

My Art

If you made it this far i just wanted to say thank you for reading this. I don’t talk about my ocs often and this means a lot to me. Thank you for joining my TED Talk.

#hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy oc #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts mc #hogwarts oc #hufflepuff #hufflepuff mc #Oz is a history nerd #well he’s a nerd in general

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fluidity-stupidity · 1 month

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More Witch Tips

I posted a few witch tips just a while ago, though I haven't gotten as much experience since then, much of what I offer is still up for your consideration. Some of these tips are just me calling divine individuals out on their bullshit (I have a story time brewing soon, may post tomorrow).

Putting protective sigils on the inside of everyday objects will help with protection or otherwise. Putting a protective sigil inside of your laptop bag or your purse will help technology stay fast and reliable. I've found from my astral projection travels that divine individuals will use our technology at the same time, it will slow down our technology incredibly (P.S. they should ask before taking, just as we ask of humans, our privacy is our privacy, not theirs).

Take car air re-fresheners and put in the thought of safe travel spells inside of them. Air refresheners like the little trees can be peeled and put sigils inside, air diffusers can have herbs put inside for a nice little travel spell.

Not all the time but for a lot of humans that have appeared in the Bible that neo-witches want to work with are never going to be who we think they are. Typically they are just archangels trying to get our attention to just let these human figures rest in peace.

Not all divine or non-divine(humans) are going to be able to adjust to technology, sometimes they randomly get remembered not too often and they have to catch up to modern times, allow them to catch up or just allow them to rest in their aftermentionisms.

Make your own divinatory tools. Whether it's runes made from tree branches from your backyard, or using a telescope with scrying capabilities, you have the creativity - every body does - and you can do so much more with it.

Create simple spells with pre-existing words from pop culture media. Examples: Accendio - confidence boosts, helping with getting a better grade in school, climbing up the ladder at your place of work; T.A.R.D.I.S. - travel spell, the "I'm opening myself up for new adventures" spell; Naevis calling - friendship/relationship spells.

Go outside! I stress this knowing damn well I'm a homebody. I hate going outside, but guess what! I find so much to treasure outside, one of the first things I did when I first got into my practice was going outside and grabbing the first fallen tree branch I found. It was perfect in width, I could grab it and have just enough branch left to use it in various different energy work, spells, altar set-ups. I found gemstones like geodes going out to local lakes and crystals in the forest floor after tripping and falling. (Get your hands dirty!)

Handicrafts like baking, sewing, pottery, etc., can be a great way to get into energy work easily. Noticing how you have to speed up the pottery wheel with the pedal while your hands move slowly, or how when your hand-sewing you slow, accurate, controlled precision while on a sewing machine, you can feel the humming of the machine while it's going.

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girldragongizzard · 17 days

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Chapter 12: War Councils

Rhoda has gotten herself a chair, and is sitting in it to poke around in my tablet’s settings, trying to see if she can figure out why the battery insists on reporting that it’s at 100% even though I haven’t charged it since Kimberly gave it to me.

Or, at least, I think that’s what she’s doing. I can’t see the screen from where I’m sitting.

Cerce is watching her curiously.

While she works, Rhoda almost absently starts talking about something else, “Meghan, there’s something you need to be aware of, if you haven’t checked the local news today. You don’t need to do anything about it besides probably behave yourself as best you can.”

I compose myself carefully to show her that I’m listening. But she’s not looking at me.

“That squabble last night. I think it was Loreena and Poink? Apt names, if I’m right,” she says.

“Yes,” I affirm.

“The two of them, with ample help from the police – but that’s not going to factor into this of course – destroyed half of the Southside Fred Meyer,” she says. “Both City Council and County Council are holding emergency sessions tonight because of it. I’m planning on being at one of those meetings to speak on behalf of you and your kind, if I can. If they let me.”

Oh.

I can only say “yes”, “no”, and “stop”, or make expressions that she’s not looking at, because she has my tablet, but that’s OK. I think she’s going to keep talking anyway until she’s informed me and Cerce of all that’s going on.

“The funny thing is, if you can call it funny, Loreena and Poink were shopping,” she says. “They met in the meat department, of course. Which is right between their two territories, and why they had the dispute.” She pokes at my tablet some more. “But, I’m pretty certain we’re going to have some new laws, policies, and ordinances regarding dragons by next week or so. And the police are going to be empowered to act on them. Or animal control. Or both.”

She squints at the screen, and I bow my head.

“That’s going to put you in a really tight spot, and maybe a lot of danger,” she says. “The sheriff's department has a tank they bought in 2008. It can’t get up to the roof you sleep on, but – oh, this is very interesting.”

“What is it?” Cerce asks.

Rhoda puts the tablet down on the table so we can all see. She’s opened the file browser and navigated to the system folder. And she points at an icon on the screen.

“That’s not a standard file,” she says.

“How do you know that?” Cerce asks.

“I make it a point to know a little bit of everything,” Rhoda replies. “A habit I picked up from my late son.”

“What kind of file is it?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t know if it’s related to the battery, but it’s really weird,” Rhoda says. “That icon is a sigil or rune. Not like those antisemitic new age rip offs, either.”

“What? You’re shitting me. You understand that?”

“No and no,” Rhoda admits. “I just know what it looks like and what it’s not.”

Cerce narrows her eyes and studies Rhoda. “It sounds like you know something most people don’t.”

“That’s probably true.”

I’m back to thinking maybe Rhoda is a witch.

I see movement behind Cerce in the corner of my eye and look to catch Chapman approaching us glumly.

Is it lunch time already?

Sie is wearing an R2D2 themed skater dress and moon boots, with a purse the same color as hir hair. Sie must spend all of hir disposable income on outfits, but I honestly can’t fault hir for doing so.

Chapman notices Rhoda poking at my new hand-me-down tablet and stops and purses hir lips. Then decides it’s important to stay the course and approach us.

Cerce and Rhoda notice where my attention is paid, and look themselves.

“Hey, Chapman,” Cerce says.

“Cerce,” Chapman says in their maple syrup croon. “Rhoda. Hey, Meg. I’ve come to apologize, but now I see I may need to explain even more.”

“What do you mean?” Rhoda asks. But I see she’s not tensing up. She’s just curious. Not even confused.

“That file you're thinking of opening is something I added to the tablet myself,” Chapman says. “I knew Meg would need it.”

“How?” Cerce blinks.

“I’m a bit of an artist,” Chapman replies. Sie doesn’t elaborate and just stands there waiting for the next question.

“Can you explain that?” Cerce asks.

Chapman looks around to see if anyone else is in earshot, then wanders around the table to go get another chair to bring over and sit down.

Rhoda scoots over to make room.

Then Chapman leans forward, elbows on the table, hands clenched, and looks at each of us conspiratorially. And then waits for us to lean forward.

When we’ve tightened the circle of ears, sie says, “Dragons aren’t the only ones to have awaked recently.” Then sie leans back and again falls silent, seemingly content with having said that little.

I tilt my head to the side.

Rhoda sighs, looks over, and says, “You’re going to have to elaborate, I think.”

“I’m sorry,” Chapman says. “I’ve sworn to secrecy. But the vow is very specifically worded. So, I’m waffling. Do I violate the spirit of the vow by upholding only the letter of it? Or do I keep my mouth shut? In any case, I slipped up with Meghan, and I ‘m sorry for doing that.”

I reach across the table to bring the tablet over to me, and hit home and then the AAC app.

“I felt thing,” I say. “I felt a switch.”

It’s Chapman’s turn to tilt hir head.

“Is magic?” I ask.

“Wait,” Rhoda says, holding a hand tilted toward me to beg my patience, while looking at Chapman. “It’s only been since the 24th. How did you all organize so quickly you have a vow?”

Chapman bites hir lip, then says, “The dragons didn’t come first, or simultaneously. This all begins earlier than that. But also, not everyone took the vow. Not all learned about it. And I just thought it was a good idea.”

I angrily knuckle my tablet, “Did you make happen? Did you do change?”

“No,” Chapman says. “As far as I know, now one knows what triggered it. Only that we’re all out, now.”

I remember my 3.5 edition D&D, and decide to ask outright, “Are you warlock?”

“What? No. I’m also not saying, otherwise I’d break the vow of secrecy,” Chapman scowls. “I basically already have, though. Please don’t ask more questions like that.”

I look at Rhoda and then ask, “Are you witch?” Just to be fair.

She falls back in her chair cackling and shaking her head, “Heaven’s no! Though, I guess I admire the idea of being a wise woman.”

I look at Cerce and she just giggles.

“Are you student?” I ask.

It’s her turn to break out laughing, snorting and putting a hand to her nose, but she nods and says, “Yes! Yes, I am.”

I feel like this is the first time in my life I’ve actually cracked a joke. And it’s a subtle, deadpan joke. My way of talking is really made for deadpan delivery. It’s about all I can do, and it makes me feel sly. I love it.

I know I’ve made people laugh before, but I can’t remember if I’ve done it deliberately or not. I’ve always felt like my purposeful attempts all fell flat before.

Everyone seems to be enjoying the moment, too.

Then I feel that shift again, and Chapman, who’s been snickering too, sobers up and turns Rhoda.

“I’ll take the Council meeting you miss, tonight,” sie says. “I don’t think we can do anything there to alter the Path tonight, but we can at least remain as informed as possible.”

Rhoda nods, and no one comments.

After a moment, I insist on clarification, “What ‘Path’?”

Chapman looks at me, “History.”

Of course. “Yes,” I say.

“What can the rest of us do?” Cerce asks, sounding uncertain that she’s included.

Rhoda puts a hand on her arm and says, “You can come to one of the Council meetings too. Or, since the two of us have that covered, be yourself. You’re doing good already just being friends with the likes of us. There’ll be more work to come. I promise.”

“Do you think we should get my bosses in on this?”

“I believe Nathan is working on that angle,” Rhoda replies. “But definitely. Since the shop is the seat of Meghan’s territory, this concerns them intimately.”

“OK, I’ll back Nate up. But I think they’re already on our side, anyway. The bosses love Meg,” Cerce concludes.

Rhoda just nods.

Cerce squints at Chapman for a bit, then says, “I’m sorry. I’m going to ask you a leading question, but I really want to know. Can you teach me your art?”

“If you took the vow, I think I could try,” Chapman says. “But I don’t think it’d work. It would be unprecedented.”

Cerce sighs and nods.

Chapman folds hir arms and looks down at the table. “OK. Everyone. I’m going to phrase this in a very specific way. Please take it at face value and do not read into it.”

Sie looks around at each of us through hir magenta pompadour.

We each nod.

Sie nods, then suggests, “Let’s all pretend that I’m Gandalf.” Then sie points at me, and says, “You! I was not expecting you to be able to notice things. That’s new to everyone. Though, I don’t think any dragon has been this close to someone like me, yet. It’s only been a week. Less for most.”

I tilt my head.

“That’s all you’re getting today. Just think about it and put it to good use, Meg.”

I bow my head, “Yes.”

I have the weirdly new to me experience of realizing my social connections are falling into place and making themselves clear. And they’re doing so in a way that is at once both reassuring and helpful, but also a bit of a disappointment?

Chapman’s all business now, and Rhoda’s deeper into her business, gripping it with both hands and wearing it like a shawl. And both of them in dedication to me, for some reason. Maybe on Rhoda’s part because we’re friends and neighbors. On Chapman’s part, though, it seems to be pure business, not just autistic interest, but wrapped up in whatever sie has vowed to keep secret. And all of hir signals, signs of excitement, smugness, were probably just the thrill of opportunity falling into place.

But, at least, sie sounds like sie is on my side.

I’m more heartbroken about this than I expected, and I’m kind of confused by that.

What are dragon relationships with humans supposed to be like, anyway?

I wonder what those infant dragons will grow up to be like, being treated as dragons right from the beginning. Are they being raised by other dragons, or humans? Or, are they more autonomous than human babies, and basically self sufficient little monsters with no socialization yet?

I take a moment to visualize maybe having a dragon whelp or four or eight or whatever of my own.

I’d love to lay an egg someday, if my body can do that. But raising even one child? I’m not sure.

Huh.

Would I even have to raise them? Or just protect them for a while? I like the sound of that latter option.

Double huh.

I’m starting to wish that there was an online forum for dragons, so I back out of the AAC program and fire up a browser and do a search while the others are talking about something.

And what I get is a little overwhelming for the moment I’m in currently. But, at a first, cursory glance, I’m not seeing anything labeled, “by dragons, for dragons.” And some of the stuff I am seeing makes me want to close the browser fast.

Between “r/dragon_fuckers”, “r/dragon_masters”, and “r/dragonslayers”, I’m done.

But before I go back to the conversion in front of me, I can’t stop myself from knuckling open the search query question, “Will my dragon fuck me if I ask?”

The answer provokes a series of knocking noises to burst from my syrinx.

It reads, “If you are in the Northern hemisphere, it’s not mating season. If you are in the Southern hemisphere, maybe. The recommendation is, don’t try it.”

“What was that about?” Cerce asks.

“No,” I say. Then I push the tablet over to her so that she can read it.

Her laughter is gratifying.

Chapman looks and chuckles. And Rhoda just shakes her head.

But she looks at me thoughtfully afterward.

She does not elucidate and I have no idea what she might be thinking. But it hardly matters to me at the moment. I’m too amused to care. And then we’re interrupted.

We hear Kimberly say, “Uh, oh.”

And when we all look, we see her standing just outside the door of the shop, arms akimbo, and staring Eastward up the street.

I vaguely hear some people calling things out from up that way, and look, along with the others.

If I had hackles, they’d rise. If I had a dewlap, it’d be inflated.

Instead, my chin starts jerking up of its own accord, and my wings need to be stretched, even though I don’t have the room to do that where I’m sitting.

I see the shadow before they come into my view, but I knew what they were before that and I’m not sure how.

There are eight small pointy heads, with frilled jaws, on thin long necks, all doing that Ray Harryhausen dance as they pull themselves forward on two limbs like a walrus with a thick tail long enough to strangle an elephant.

When I say pointy heads, I mean they look just like baby crocodile heads, but with the frills.

I know the name I gave them before they make a single sound.

It’s Poink.

“Meghan,” Rhoda says, an edge of warning in her voice.

But I’m blocked in by her chair and the table behind me, and I find myself trying to climb the side of the building, despite that big red iron awning being right above me. Also, the fact that there’s a huge picture window right there doesn’t help. Not many clawholds.

I twist to my left, through the air, all the way around, to land with my foreclaws in the middle of the table, and hiss. Which I haven’t done yet. That’s interesting.

“Hey, everyone,” Chapman says. “Let’s all back off and let Meg handle this. Don’t get in the way.”

Thank you.

I manage to wait for my people to clear out and get behind me, and for Kimblerly to glance our way and then retreat into the doorway of the shop, before I move further. Then I scramble right over the table, upending it, without thinking much about my tablet.

Poink is moving pretty slow, and seems to be hurt, and is looking around warily. A couple of their heads have spotted me and are tracking my movements.

When I make it to the corner of the sidewalk, I stop.

My territory extends further than that, and Poink is already in it, but I find that my conscious curiosity about what they’re planning on doing manages to override my urge to press an attack.

Something about their movements and postures does not seem challenging, and they haven’t called out yet.

I can now see that there are big gashes on Poinks shoulders, made by three talons with every stroke. They look bigger than I could make. They’re not really bleeding now, but they must be painful.

Part of me thinks I could crush and eat them easily. And the rest of me is repulsed by that idea. And that inner conflict has me frozen as well.

I wait until they come to the edge of their sidewalk, kitty corner to me in the intersection, and then I say, “Stop.” I can’t make it sound urgent or stern, but I make it as loud as I can.

Their heads all do this fluid pulling back thing, one after another, that would make an animator fall over in delight. A hydra’s version of a taken aback.

I hear a single, quiet, “Poink.” And then they bow, lowering their shoulders and then their heads.

All the cars that have been coming up the streets have stopped, including a city bus. They all know better than to get between us at this point. And ideally, we want a demonstration of draconic diplomacy instead of a fight.

But at that “Poink”, I cannot stop myself from charging!

Bound! Bound! Jump, glide, skid, flap, flap, “GggrrrrrrrrrRREEEYAWK! NOKNOKNOKNOK!!!”

#writeblr #dragon #original fiction #serial fiction #transformation #transgender

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satoshi-mochida · 5 months

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Supernatural life simulation game Moonlight Peaks to be published by XSEED Games and Marvelous Europe

From Gematsu

XSEED Games and Marvelous Europe will publisher supernatural life simulation game Moonlight Peaks in North America and Europe, respectively. It will launch for PC via Steam in 2026. A demo is currently available.

“We always look for projects that offer our audience diverse new titles with our indie publishing efforts, but this time we’ve found a project that’s much closer to home,” said XSEED Games executive vice president Kenji Hosoi in a press release. “Moonlight Peaks is a supernatural fit given our deep experience with the farming / life sim genre, and we look forward to working with the team at Little Chicken to bring their game to life, and our fans!”

Little Chicken Game Company president Yannis Bolman added, “Partnering with Marvelous and their group of companies for a worldwide release was an opportunity we were excited to accept. As pioneers in the farming and life-sim genre with Story of Seasons and then the Rune Factory series, we were thrilled to be invited into their family. Moonlight Peaks will fit seamlessly into their publishing portfolio, and we hope to introduce fans of those series to our own innovative and unique ideas for the genre.”

Here is an overview of the game, via XSEED Games:

About

Moonlight Peaks takes place in its titular town, home to vampires, werewolves, mermaids, and other supernatural denizens who mostly come out at night—where the unnatural is the norm. As the grown-up progeny of Count Dracula, players will have to prove to their skeptical father that an (un-)life of compassion is possible, even for the undead. While players design their perfect vampire lair and learn the art of farming magical crops and witchcraft, they’ll get to know the eclectic mix of human and supernatural residents that also call Moonlight Peaks home, and maybe even find their eternal love! More information about the setting and features of Moonlight Peaks will be revealed at a later date, but players can download a new demo on PC right now for a glimpse at the haunted haven that awaits.

Key Features

Live the vampire life in the magical town of Moonlight Peaks.

Master the art of potions and spells.

Manage your supernatural farm.

Make friends with the local werewolves, witches, and mermaids, and find your eternal love in the supernatural dating scene.

More to come!

Watch an old teaser trailer below.

Teaser Trailer

youtube

#Moonlight Peaks #Little Chicken Game Company #XSeed gamesG #Marvelous Europe #simulation game #Gematsu #Youtube

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vodika-vibes · 1 year

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The Snow Queen

Summary: The Seaside nation of Pabu has been locked in an eternal winter for generations, under the thumb of the Snow Queen. And you believe that nothing will ever change. And then Hunter arrives.

Pairing: Knight!Hunter x Reader (pre-relationship)

Word Count: 5069

Warnings: Canon typical violence

A/N: This is my first time writing Hunter, so I hope I did alright. This is based on the Snow Queen myth, but really has more The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe vibes.

Divider by saradika

“It’s snowing again,” You call over your shoulder to your mother from where you’re perched in the alcove, with your arms resting on the windowsill.

“Again?” Your mother walks over to you and presses a warm mug into your hands, “Goodness, her Majesty must be furious today.”

“Isn’t she always furious?” You ask as you set your mug on your tray and carefully adjust so you’re sitting properly, and you smile at your mother as she drapes a thick blanket over your legs.

“I know you don’t believe it, baby, but she used to be a good woman.” Your mother replies, and then she sighs as you shoot her a disbelieving look, “I know it’s hard for you to see. She…she wronged you more than anyone-”

You’re quiet for a moment and then you pick up your mug of tea, and flicker your gaze back out the window, “You should probably activate the house wards, mom.” You finally say after a moment, “It looks like a bad storm.”

Your mother sighs and closes her eyes, “Alright. Do you want stew for dinner tonight?” She asks as she stands and heads towards the stairs.

“Yeah, sounds great.” You say with a smile, that fades when your mother heads up the stairs.

Three years ago, you had been living in an apartment with your fiance, and you had worked with your father at his woodworking company. It had been a cool summer day, and there was no snow falling, so you joined your father on a trip into the woods to gather more wood.

But the weather can turn quickly here, and within an hour of leaving the shop, you and your dad were trying to navigate in white-out conditions. You stumbled blindly for thirty minutes, before your dad found a safe haven. Unfortunately, the safe haven he found was the cave that led to the Queen’s personal garden.

The Queen’s guards struck quickly and without asking questions, they struck your dad down before you even realized what was happening, and they would have done the same to you, had the Queen herself not appeared.

She offered you the mercy of your life, though she reiterated that trespass needed to be punished. The Queen ordered her men to return you to the village and to bring you to the local hospital…and as soon as you were standing in the lobby of the local emergency room, the guards struck…severing your legs from your body just over the knee.

You still remember the screams from the nurses and doctors, as well as the other patients, and you remember hands all over you, trying to stop the bleeding.

The next thing you remember clearly, is your mother holding your hand and weeping, and your fiance apologizing as he takes your engagement ring back because he “didn’t sign up to be a caretaker”. You were forced to move back in with your mother, and it took over a year before you were healed enough for the prosthetics.

And now, here you are, two years after that, still living with your mother. You intended to move back out, as soon as you were mobile again, but it just…it didn’t happen.

At least you still have a job, your uncle took up your father’s woodworking business, and he was more than happy to allow you to work from home, so long as you continued your wood carving.

You look up as your mother comes back downstairs, “There,” She says, “The runes will keep the snow from piling on the house.” She favors you with a loving smile, “Will you help with dinner?”

“Yeah, of course.” You uncover your legs, and swing them off the bench, before standing and heading into the kitchen. You lean against the bar in the center of the kitchen, and watch as your mom rushes around from one side of the kitchen to the other, “Mom?”

“Oh, there you are.” She places a bunch of veggies on the bar, “Cut these.”

You grab a knife and turn towards the bar, “This is a lot of veggies,” You say dryly.

“Yes, well…your uncle is coming for dinner.” Your mom replies, “And you know how he gets about his stews not being filling enough.”

“He could always eat at his own home.” You counter dryly.

“Be nice. I know you and he don’t see eye to eye-”

“Yeah, because he’s in love with the woman who is responsible for this.” You reply as you motion to your legs.

“He’s still family. He’s just lonely, baby.”

You roll your eyes, but drop the topic. Just in time too, as the front door clicks open, and then slams shut, “Hello to the house!” your uncle bellows. You hear the sound of his heavy boots dropping in the mudroom, and then the sound of him walking through the house. “Mm, stew! My favorite,” He jokes as he enters the kitchen.

“How’s the storm?” Your mom asks as she hands your uncle a mug of something hot.

“Awful! Worst storm of the season by far.” He says in a booming voice that makes you cringe, “Her Majesty is irate. Her statue in the town square was destroyed.”

“That’s a ridiculous thing to get upset about,” You say.

“The things you say, little one!” Your uncle jokes, “That statue is proof of her power!”

“...it’s a statue, not a crown.” You mutter, “Mom, I’m done.”

“Alright, thank you!” Your mother takes the bowl of veggies and adds them to the pot, “Can you grab some of the dried herbs from the pantry?”

“Yeah. Which ones?”

“Oh, anything fragrant.” She replies cheerfully, before she turns back to your uncle, “How could anyone destroy that statue, it’s made of solid ice.”

“No idea, but she’s hired some Mercs to look into it. Apparently they’ve already arrived.” He tries to whisper, but it really just comes out as a normal inside voice.

“Oh, how exciting!” Your mom says thoughtfully, “That means the storm will stop over night! Thank goodness.”

You walk over to your mom, and place some bottles on the counter next to her, “Do these work?”

“Perfect! Thank you! Do you want to stay down here and chat?” She asked.

“I think I’m going to go to my room and read a book,” You reply, “Shout when dinner’s done?”

“Of course, I always do.”

You smile at her, and then turn and leave the room, “She doesn’t like me,” You hear your uncle say.

“She just misses her dad. The last three years have been hard on her.” You barely hear your mom reply as you head up the stairs to your room, “Be patient-” You shut the door with a quiet click, cutting your mother’s voice off.

You drop onto the comfy chair set in the corner and you rub your eyes tiredly. You really, really wish you could live literally anywhere else. But that’s not an option, and it’s not like you can just leave.

You sigh and pick up the photo album on the side table, automatically flipping to the center page which is filled with one picture, a picture of you and your parents on your 18th birthday.

Your fingers glide over the image of your dad, “I miss you. Things just…aren’t the same anymore.” You whisper to the picture, and then you close the book with a snap.

You might as well actually read a book while you’re up here. The more your mom thinks you’re busy, the less likely it is that you’ll have to go downstairs and watch her flirt with your uncle.

*************

The following day is a busy day for you. You spend the large portion of the morning working on carvings in your workshop at the back of the house, but you can only do that for so long before you need to stretch your legs a little.

So you bundle up, and leave the house.

You stop at the stationary shop first, you need a new notebook for planning your carvings out, and you also grab several new pens and pencils, before you leave and head for the grocery store.

There are several items you need for yourself, and then your mom left a list of items she needs as well.

The stuff you need is easy to get, right near the front of the store, but your mom needs a very specific item from the back of the store, on the very top shelf.

You glare at the innocent item sitting just out of reach, even with you standing on your toes. You stand on your toes again, trying to stretch just a little more, though your fingers are just barely able to brush the front of the jar.

You’re considering climbing the shelf to grab the item, when someone reaches over your shoulder and grabs the bottle easily, before he offers it to you, “This is what you wanted, right?” He asks.

You gratefully take the bottle, “Yes, thank you.” You reply as you look up at him, you don’t recognize him, but he’s got shoulder length black hair and half of his face is covered by a skull tattoo. “I tried to get the doctors to make me just a little bit taller when they gave me my legs,” You joke, “But they said I have to be proportional.”

He pauses, “Well, you’re definitely…proportional.”

“...thank you?”

“That’s a weird compliment, isn’t it?”

You laugh, “Yeah, just-just a little. But I will take it in the spirit that it was offered.”

“Well that’s a relief,” He replies, “Hunter.” He pauses, “Ah…my name. Hunter is my name.” He sighs, “Stars, you’d think I’ve never spoken to another person before.”

You laugh quietly, “It’s alright,” You reassure, and then you offer him your hand as you introduce yourself, “It’s the cold,” You joke with an easy smile, “It saps the brain and the ability to think properly.”

“You know, I don’t think that’s how the cold works.” Hunter replies as he folds his arms across his chest.

“Really? I’ve lived here my entire life, and you’d be surprised at how many people start stumbling over their words.” You counter.

“Maybe they’re stunned by your beauty.” He offers with a sly smile.

You release a delighted laugh, “I bet you say that to all the girls.” You say once you get your laughter under control.

“You’d be the first,” Hunter says with a smooth shrug.

“Is that right?”

“It is indeed.” His grin grows, “So, do you need anymore help with your shopping? I would hate for you to miss anything on your list because of being short.”

“Oh, you think you’re cute, don’t you?” You ask, though there’s no heat in your voice.

“Well, I wouldn’t jump to cute…” Hunter replies, “Handsome, maybe. Stunning, sexy-”

“I am not calling you any of those.”

“That’s okay, I can be patient.”

You shake your head, “As it happens, I’m actually done with my shopping.”

“Ah, well. Maybe next time then.”

“Oh? You’re planning on sticking around then?” You ask.

“Mm. The Queen hired me and my brothers to look into some insurrectionists.” Hunter says absently.

You pause, “Oh. You’re the mercs that my Uncle mentioned. Hate to break it to you, Hunter, but you’re not going to get much help from people for your investigation.”

“Why’s that?” He follows you to the front of the store, though you don’t feel hounded.

You glance at him and motion for him to step to the side with you. You set your shopping basket and your bag on the ground and quickly tug up your pant legs, revealing the prosthetics underneath. And then you lower the pant legs and tuck them back into your snow boots, “Three years ago,” You start, “I was on a trip with my father, gathering wood for his business, and we got caught in a sudden snowstorm. Dad managed to find shelter, but the place we found was property of the snow queen,”

You grab your basket and bag, and straighten, locking your gaze with Hunter’s.

“The Queen’s guards killed my father before we even realized that we were somewhere we weren’t supposed to be.” You continue, “My punishment for trespassing was to have both of my legs removed.”

Hunter frowns, “That seems…excessive.”

“Yeah. A bit.” You agree wryly. “So, anyway, you’re not going to get much help.”

“Okay, so…follow up question,” Hunter says, “How is the Queen viewed by her people?”

“Hm…some people are loyal to her, but the wide majority aren’t.” You answer honestly, “We’re, honestly, tired of the snow and the ice, and near constant storms.”

“You’re very honest about this.”

“Yeah, well…I’m allowed my opinion.” You set your basket on the counter, and smile at the kid working the counter, who’s eyeing Hunter warily. “I’m all set,”

He smiles at you nervously, “You know…Bram isn’t going to be thrilled about you making friends with-” He gestures to Hunter.

You hum thoughtfully, “He broke our engagement when I was still in the hospital after having my legs cut off. Do you really think I care what he thinks?”

“...no. No, I do not.”

“Smart kid. How much do I owe?”

“25 credits-”

Hunter reaches around you and drops the credits on the counter, and you shoot him a strange look, “I need whatever information you’re willing to share. Will you come with me to the place me and my brothers are staying?”

You watch him for a moment, and then you nod slowly, “Yeah, alright.” You load up your bag, and watch, bemused, as Hunter takes the bag before you can heave it over your shoulder.

“We’re not far. We’re staying in a house not far from here.” He explains as he waits for you to pull your knit hat over your head, and then guides you out of the shop.

True to his word, the home that he’s staying in is only a few streets over, which you’re grateful for as snow starts falling from the sky.

Like all of the houses, the front door leads to a mudroom, allowing you to strip off your wet winter gear, and leaving you in the much more comfortable long sleeve tunic and trousers. Hunter leaves your bag in the mudroom as well, since you have nothing perishable, and he leads you into the house properly.

“My batchmates,” Hunter says as he enters the sitting room, “Crosshair,” He motions to a silver haired man, “Tech,” He motions to a man wearing thick glasses, “And Wrecker.” He motions to the massive man sitting on the floor.

“You brought someone to give us information?” Tech asks without looking up from his book.

“Something like that.” Hunter replies, “Have a seat wherever you like. Do you need anything for your legs?”

“Hm? Oh, no. Nothing that can’t wait until I get home, at least. Thank you though.” You say brightly.

“I have a prosthetic too!” Wrecker says cheerfully as he turns to look at you, and he taps under one of his eyes, “How’d you get yours?”

You tilt your head, “The Queen’s Guards cut them off after they murdered my father in front of me for the crime of trying to escape a blizzard that the Queen created.” You answer honestly.

The room is silent for a moment, “You’re joking.” Crosshair finally says.

“I’m not.” You answer.

“...it appears that we were not told the complete truth of the situation here,” Tech notes as he finally looks up from his book, “She’s a magic user?”

You shrug, “Mom swears that her Great-Grandmother used to tell her that Pabu was tropical once upon a time. And then one day this woman arrived and declared herself Queen and created an eternal winter. Plus the same woman has been Queen since then.”

“Fuck.” Crosshair says bluntly, and empathically.

“Okay, so how has she stayed alive so long?” Wrecker asks.

“Magic, probably.” Hunter replies, “She creates the snowstorms?”

You nod.

“We need to reconsider what we’re doing here,” Tech says quietly, “We need to do an investigation and get all of the details.”

“So I take it I’m being kicked out,” You joke lightly.

“‘Fraid so.” Hunter replies easily, “We need to do our own investigation. If we have any questions-”

“You can always come and find me,” You say with a small smile as you push yourself to your feet.

“Well, I might just do that anyway,” He flirts lightly, resolutely ignoring the looks his brothers are sending him.

Your smile broadens, “I’ll look forward to it then.” You turn and leave the room, a quiet giggle slipping from you when you hear a muffled thump and a hiss of pain.

You pull your winter gear back on and leave the house…and never make it back home.

**************

“This is an exercise in futility,” Tech says with a frown, as he closes a book with a decisive snap, “No one here is willing to talk to us.”

“Maybe you should go and talk to your pretty little cyar’ika, vod.” Crosshair drawls as he flicks his toothpick at Hunter.

Hunter flings a ball of paper at Crosshair’s face, “Maybe I will, she’ll be better company if nothing else.”

Wrecker’s head turns towards his brothers, “Wait, is she your cyare? Does that make her our vod’ika?”

“No.” Hunter says immediately.

“Yes.” Crosshair and Tech say in unison, apparently having woken up that morning and chosen violence.

“Okay, you know what-” Hunter says, his eyes flashing with anger, as he leans across the table, but before he can continue there’s a loud knock on the door.

“We aren’t expecting company, are we?” Tech asks, standing as the knocking continues.

“Not that I know of,” Crosshair replies as he grabs his crossbow.

Wrecker moves to the mudroom and pushes the front door open, “Uh…can we help you?” Hunter hears him ask, and then a woman bursts into the living room.

The woman rips her wool hat off of her head and her wild gaze locks on Hunter, “Where is she!?”

“I beg your-”

“My daughter! Where is my daughter? You were the last person to see her and now she’s missing and what did you do to her-?”

“Ma’am, ma’am, please calm down!” Hunter holds out his hands, trying to calm the frantic woman.

“I already lost my husband, and now my daughter is missing too and, and-” The woman sobs, “You have to have her! Please!”

“I think she’s talking about your cyar’ika.” Crosshair murmurs, his eyes narrowing in thought.

“I think you’re right.” Hunter agrees.

“Here,” Wrecker gently guides her to a chair, “Why don’t you sit down?”

The older woman releases a shuddering soft as she allows Wrecker to guide her to a seat, and then Hunter moves over to her and kneels in front of the woman, “Ma’am,” He says gently, “I swear to you, your daughter isn’t here. She walked out of here on her own power.”

The woman stared at him, her eyes wide, and then her face crumpled, “No…”

Hunter lightly takes her hands, “But we will do everything in our power to find her.” He turns to look at Tech and Crosshair, who both nod and head out of the house, and then he looks back at the woman, “Now, is there anything you can tell us? Have you seen anything strange?”

She sniffles, “Um…” She wipes her eyes with the sleeves of her thick jacket, “I came home from work the other day and saw that her workroom was trashed.”

“Was anything missing?” Wrecker asks.

“I don’t know. It was my husband’s workshop before he died…I didn’t really go in there.” She chokes back another sob, “But her room was also trashed. I didn’t see anything missing…I just assumed that she had a bad day-”

“That’s alright,”

“I’m a terrible mother,” She whispers, “How could I not know if something’s missing…”

“You’re not a terrible mother. A terrible mother wouldn’t be here, demanding answers from the people she thought took her daughter.” Hunter corrects kindly, “Now…Wrecker here is going to escort you home.”

“Oh…you don’t have to-”

“We do.” Hunter interrupts, and then he crosses the room to Wrecker, “Stay with her. They might come back.”

“Got it. Happy hunting, vod.”

Less than ten minutes later, Tech and Crosshair return. Neither of them bother to remove their winter weather gear, “We found something, but you’re not going to like it.” Crosshair says.

“Tell me anyway.”

The twins share a look, and then Tech places something on the table. There’s a prosthetic leg on the table, painted in bright colors, “They took one of her legs,” Tech says, “Likely to keep her from escaping.”

“You might be able to track her,” Crosshair picks up the conversation smoothly, “But it has been three days…and it’s been snowing.”

“Snow isn’t like rain, especially since it’s always cold enough for the snow to never melt,” Hunter says thoughtfully, and his gaze drifts to the painted leg on the table, “Okay. Change of plans.” He says, “Tech, Cross, go and find the people we were supposed to be looking for in the first place. I know that you know who they are. Press them for details.”

“And what do you want us to do after?” Tech asks.

“Act on what you find out.” Hunter replies, he grabs the leg off the table and wraps it in a blanket, “I’m going to go see if I can find her.”

Tech nods, and Crosshair just turns and leaves the room, “Tech, hurry up!” He calls from the front door.

“Don’t rush me!” Tech says as he turns and chases after his twin.

*************

You shiver as you pull your leg up to your chin. It’s cold enough that you can see your breath, and you’d probably be in a lot of trouble if you hadn’t been allowed to keep your cold weather gear on.

But it’s been days, at least you think it has, and the biting cold is starting to seep through your clothes.

You wonder if this is what it’s like to be a political prisoner, though you can’t possibly imagine that you’re politically significant enough to actually be a political prisoner.

You release a trembling breath and wrap your arm around your leg, if it gets much colder, you’re going to have to remove your other leg to keep from getting frostbite.

You jump when the door to your cell opens, and one of the guards lumbers into the room, “Lunch,” He grunts, as he sets a simple bowl on the floor.

“Can I get a blanket?” You ask.

He stares at you blankly, “No.” And then he turns and leaves the room.

At least the meal is something hot. Soup, in a paper bowl, so that you can’t use it to make a weapon or anything. Food is food though, and you couldn’t escape with only one leg if you wanted to.

You hope someone comes to get you, though.

You jump when you hear a loud crash from the hallway, and then jump again when something heavy slams against the cell door and it falls in.

You stare at the door for a moment, and then look up at the doorway, shock crossing your face as Hunter steps in the doorway, “There you are.”

“...Hunter?”

He smiles at you, though there’s something almost feral in his gaze, “That’s me.”

“I…you…how?” You sputter.

“Your mom, she thought that we were holding you and came to demand your release.” He answers as he hops down the steps and kneels in front of you, “Here, this belongs to you.” He unhooks something from around his back, and unwraps it, revealing your leg.

“My mom?” You ask as you numbly take your leg back.

“She’s a tough lady. I have no doubt that if she thought that we actually had you she would have attacked us.” Hunter says with a grin.

You clumsily untie the knot that you were using to keep the cold away from the stub of your leg, and you reattach your leg, “She probably would have,” You admit, grimacing as the nerves reattached to the leg.

“You good?”

“It hurts. It always hurts.” You say quietly. And then you take a deep breath and pull the pant leg down and shove the material into the boot that was still on your foot. “Can we leave?”

“That’s the plan, princess.” Hunter glances towards the door, and then back at you, “Come on, on your feet.” He helps you to your feet and steadies you.

“How’d you find me?” You ask as you allow him to help you up the steps.

“I’m a tracker.” Hunter explains, he glances at you, “I sniffed you out,” He clarifies as he taps his nose, “Literally, as it happens.”

“...oh.”

He smiles reassuringly at you, “Don’t worry, I’m going to get you home.”

“I believe you.” You grimace slightly, “I’m not going to be able to walk quickly though…too much time in the cold.”

“Then we’ll take it slow. As slow as you need to.”

That’s good in theory, but the reality is that Hunter just broke into the Queen’s personal prison, and killed one of her personal guards. Which means that less than fifteen minutes after he gets you out of the prison, Hunter is throwing you into an alcove as Guards descend on him from every direction.

You watch, terrified, as the fight starts. And then the terror fades into something like awe. None of the guards could touch him, as he essentially dances around them, and under their blades.

When the last guard hits the ground, he turns to you, he’s not even winded, “Alright, princess. Time to go.” He holds his hand out to you and you accept the hand as he effortlessly lifts you over the bodies on the ground.

You’re almost outside when you notice something strange, there are puddles of water on the floor of the Queen’s ice palace. “I think the palace is melting, is that your doing?” You ask Hunter.

“Not intentionally,” He replies as he hurries ahead of you and opens the door, “Come on, princess. We’re in the home stretch.”

“Aside from the hour-long walk back to the village.” You remind him.

“Yeah, aside from that.” He helps you down the final staircase and then guides you away from the palace. “I’m surprised we didn’t run into any more guards.” He admits.

“If the palace is melting, it means that the Queen probably has more pressing concerns.” You point out.

“Fair point,” He lightly places his hand on the small of your back, “Come on, let’s get you back to your mom.”

By the time you're halfway home, you had to stop to strip off your winter clothing, as the temperature had shot up to the point where it’s uncomfortable to wear them.

By the time you step foot in the village properly, all of the snow has melted, and everything is muddy and gross. Ironically, the mud is harder for you to walk in than snow, and Hunter ends up having to carry you back to your home.

Your mom lets out a cry when she sees you, and immediately flies to your side. Hunter is barely able to set you on the gravel path in front of your house before your mom is wrapped around you, and sobbing in your hair.

*****

Three days later, you’re sitting on a bench on the outside of the village square with Hunter sitting next to you. Your mom and uncle are in the mass of people standing in front of where the statue of the Queen once stood, and the rest of Hunter’s brothers are milling around the group of people in civilian clothes.

“What do you think this town meeting is about?” You ask Hunter.

“Probably about who’s going to run the village now that the Queen is dead,” He replies as he stretches out, “Once things dry out you’ll be able to take up farming again, and the fishing boats can come out of storage.”

“Hm, true enough. I guess the shop will go back to making fishing boats, rather than anything else.” You say thoughtfully, “Which means I’m going to need a new job.” You add with a sigh.

“You’ll be alright. You’re pretty smart after all.”

“Just pretty smart?” You tease.

“Well, I have to compare you to Tech-”

You laugh, “Point taken.” You find Tech in the crowd, and you lift a hand to hide your smile, he’s surrounded by people and he seems to be giving a lecture, “He looks happy.” You note lightly.

“He has a captive audience. Of course he’s happy,” Hunter replies with a sigh.

“Hm…what are you guys going to do now? Head back to Mandalore?” You ask.

“Haven’t decided. Why?”

“Well,” You say slowly, thoughtfully, “You did kinda…break our entire way of life.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah. I mean, we have to relearn how to fish, and relearn how to make boats, and relearn how to grow crops-” You list.

“You know, I could have just left you at the mercy of the Snow Queen.”

“No you couldn’t.”

He sighs, “No, I couldn’t.” Hunter removes his bandana for a moment and pushes his hair out of his eyes, “Alright, what are you suggesting, princess.”

“Well, Tech knows a lot about, well, everything. Having him around would help us get resettled a lot faster.” You say, almost absently.

“Yeah, I bet he would. But what about me and Crosshair?”

“I’m sure we can find something for men with your skill sets to do.”

Hunter leans back and stares at you for a moment, “Alright.”

“Alright?”

“Alright. I’ll talk to my brothers, see if they’re on board. And if they all agree, we’ll stick around.” Hunter ties his bandana back on and stands, “Besides, I still need to get you to call me handsome or sexy.” He adds with a cheeky grin.

“Never gonna happen.” You reply in a sing-song voice.

He leans in, until his face is uncomfortably close to yours, “Fifty credits that I’ll get you to call me on, or both, by the end of the year.”

“Deal.” You say.

“Deal.” He shakes your hand, and then pulls you to your feet, “Come on, let’s go hear what the people have to say.”

11 months later, you lose that bet.

#star wars #tcw #tbb hunter x reader #hunter x reader #star wars au #x reader fanfic #star wars fanfiction

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illarian-rambling · 5 months

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Thanks for the tag @elsie-writes!

OC Interview

I thought doing this in a pair was fun last time, so let's do Astra and Mashal together :)

Are you named after anyone?

Astra: "Just the stars above, darlin'."

Mashal: "Not that I know of, but my memory of anything beyond waking up in Astra's vardo is a little fuzzy, so I guess I could've been."

When was the last time you cried?

Astra: "Gods a'mighty, I couldn't tell ya. Probably a few years back, at least. I don't know - I'd a' rather eaten bricks than cried in public when I was in Yewbury, so I guess I learned to hide my tears from everyone, includin' myself. That makes it sound sadder than it actually is, though. I just ain't the easily ruffled kind."

Mashal: "Uh-huh... Not easily ruffled. That definitely sounds like you."

Mashal: "I can't cry. Is that cheating? I guess I get kinda sad at night, when everything's so quiet and my thoughts seem so loud, but metal is metal, so there are no actual tears."

Do you have kids?

Astra: "Fuuuuck naw. Maybe someday, but I'm too busy travelin' right now."

Mashal: "...I- I don't think I do. I don't remember anything from my past, though. I'm probably in my mid-twenties. That's feasible. Oh gods..."

Astra: "Love, take a good look at yourself. You asked me how to make coffee the other day. Ya don't got no surprise amnesia kids."

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Astra: "I try to, gods willin', but I'm afraid my insults tend to come out a lil' more direct than that."

Mashal: "It's an unbecoming habit, but sometimes I can't help myself."

What is the first thing you notice about people?

Astra: "Their clothes. You can tell a lot about a fellow from the cut a' his smock. Clothes tell ya how much money they've got, how much care they put into their image, what social groups they're a part of - all sorts a' tasty details. The shoes especially. Never trust a fellow in spotless work boots is what my momma always says."

Mashal: "Wait, what can you tell about me from my clothes?"

Astra: "I make all your clothes, love, it doesn't count."

Mashal: "Oh. Well, I suppose I... It sort of shames me to say this, but I try to check if they're a mage or not. I don't know why, but mages make me so nervous. You can usually tell a sorcerer by the hands, a book mage by the scars."

What is your eye color?

Astra: "Blue. Whoever my biological dad is musta been a pale fucker, cause it ain't everyday you see Shuari skin with bluebird peepers, even if I am a lot lighter than my momma. My right eye is a lil' grayer than the other, which might have somethin' to do with my vitiligo, but I ain't sure."

Mashal: "My ocular runes glow white."

Astra: "And a very perdy white too. Don't get yourself down just cause you got a different look from most folk."

Scary movies or happy endings?

Astra: "Scary! I wanna see blood, guts, horror!"

Mashal: "You say this, and then you make me go turn on the lights because you're too scared to sleep in the dark. I like happy endings. Horror always makes my skin crawl. Or, you know, it would if I had skin."

Any special talents?

Astra: "I'm the best damn witch a' the borderlands! Ain't nobody's runes equal to mine. Ain't no one makes finer machines. But other than that, I've got a mighty knack for embroidery."

Mashal: "I'm a decent artist. Nothing spectacular, and I'm only any good with a pencil, but I'm pretty good at sketching from life."

Astra: "And you can fight with a sword, don't forget that!"

Mashal: "And I can fight with a sword."

Where were you born?

Astra: "The stinkin' shithole known to the world as Nakaow. It's a debtor village in the borderlands. All the folk there have contracts owned by the local lord and have to farm 'is land till they pay what they owe. 'Course, they only end up further and further in debt everyday since he charges outrageous rent for sleepin' in 'is buildings."

Mashal: "I don't know. I'm from the Republic province of Sulu'Oku, I'm pretty sure. I have a Sulu'Okan name and accent. I just don't remember any of it."

Do you have any pets?

Astra: "Why, yes I do! I found Mercher's Day on the streets a' Landanium, on, well, a mercher's day. He's a tubby beast of a calico cat who tends to think he's a tiger 'round anyone who ain't me. Or Mashal. He took to the fellow remarkably well when he decided to stay with me."

Mashal: "I have a hazy impression that I did once. ...Or maybe I didn't. I'm not sure. I'm happy to share Mercher with Astra."

What sort of sports do you play?

Astra: "If I got time to toss a ball around, I got time to read up on magic. And one a' those things is a mite more important to me."

Mashal: "Without physical exertion, sports don't feel as exciting for me. I also can't really improve steel and pistons through exercise, so, there's that too. I work through my sword forms from time to time, if that counts. I'd be afraid to play any team sport in case I accidentally hurt someone."

Astra: "Love, I'd pay honest money to see you huck somebody across the ring in a game of Jetj, and I'm sure other people would too."

Mashal: "Maybe once we're in Unity. There are robots there. Who knows, they might have their own sports I can learn? I'd really like that, I think."

How tall are you?

Mashal: "Ugh, six foot ten. I did not ask to be built this way. Astra said she'd be able to rebuild me to be shorter someday, but we really don't have time right now. I think about five foot nine would be a good height. I'm tired of banging my head on everything"

Astra: "Five foot fuckin' nothin'. That's what happens when you're malnourished all your damn childhood. Do you know how ridiculous I look standin' next to Mashal? Shit's tragic. I'll retrofit him if he wants, yeah, but half a' that'll be for my own peace a' mind."

What was your favorite subject in school?

Astra: "I never went to school proper, but the best lecture I ever snuck into was Applied Gravitation Runes. Now, that might not sound too excitin', but ya gotta understand that a gravitation rune is the base a' anythin' runic-mechanical you could dream a' makin'. That class really opened my eyes to how those runes could be used."

Mashal: "I'm sorry, that sounds... really boring."

Astra: "Hush, you're more'n half gravitation runes yourself."

Mashal: "Huh. Well then. Uh, I guess my favorite subject would've been art. I don't remember school, but I like art now, so I probably liked it then."

What is your dream job?

Astra: "You're lookin' at it! I'm an independent witch, not bound to some stodgy university or grant board. I walk where'n I please and run the tests I wanna run. I will admit, it'd be nice if I could get government contracts, but I'll take me freedom over them any day."

Mashal: "I... really don't know. I guess just anything where I can help people. I could be a knight, protecting travelers. I could do what Astra does and help people with magical terrors they don't understand. The specifics don't matter, just the result."

Astra: "Gods a'mighty, you're so noble..."

Mashal: "Is- is that a bad thing? Why are you making that face?"

Astra: "Ya talk so sweet, you're makin' my teeth hurt is all. It's a good thing, love. You're a good man."

I'll tag @roach-pizza @rkmoon @goldencomet69 @bard-coded @moonandris and anyone else who wants to play :)

#writing #writerscommunity #writblr #my ocs #author #oc interview

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hallow-witxh · 2 years

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Easy Kitchen Replacements to Include Magic

You wanna step into kitchen magic but are not sure where to start? Let's try something simple; easy switches that you can make to step into the world of kitchen witchcraft.

Tap water -> moon/sun water

Kitchen herbs -> altar herbs

Plain cooking oil -> blessed oil or herb-infused oil

Storebought stock -> homemade stock made with moon/sun water infused with intention and ingredient properties

Plain spatula/spoon -> wooden spatula/spoon with runes carved in or drawn on it

Dried herbs -> fresh herbs (Farmers' markets often have affordable herbs!)

Rinsing produce in tap water -> rinsing produce in moon/sun water

Slicing a line in homemade bread dough -> carving a rune

Growing flowers in your garden -> growing kitchen herbs in your garden

Boiling in tap water -> boiling in moon/sun water (You can make moon/sun water in gallon jugs!)

I have a whole bunch more of these, so let me know if you'd like another post like this one! As always, do your research, be safe, and blessed be.

Support your local witch on Ko-Fi or at my store, Hallow Grove!

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dutiful-wildcraft · 7 months

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Pack Kortac - Demon! Swagger Lore

Tags: monster au, blood, gore, flesh eating, he's a monster he eats people, soulmate elements.

-The birth of Roland “Swagger” Kominksi was not a traditional one. His mother’s were witches, young and powerful, who longed deeply for a child they simply could not create. They tried runes and tinctures, nights of passion under the pale full moon, and yet conceiving one of their own blood was simply not meant to be. And so it was through careful ritual that they instead summoned a babe. A hellacious bouncing baby boy. Sweet Roland.

-Magic users and demons are intrinsically linked. For every witch there is a Chosen demon. Bonding with your chosen is said to curate a great power for both parties involved. However, summoning is not a reliable process. Just because you summoned a demon, it did not mean it was your demon.

-Chaos would ensue, witches summoning guard dogs in the form of hellish beasts in order to build their power. It would backfire. Lacking bonds, demons are insatiable, feasting on the blood, bone and power of the creatures around them. The more magical, the more filling. It quickly became outlawed amongst the covens to use such tactics, less they become wiped out completely.

-Swaggers mother’s were no exception. They had decidedly left their former lives in order to live one they longed for. It was sheer luck they summoned a more manageable youngster, and they spoiled Roland rotten, wanting nothing more than to see their little one happy and thriving. Even if it meant slaughtering the locals or grave robbing to keep their little boy fed.

-And it’d worked. He was loved and sated. Able to attend school with the other children. That is until suspicion began to fly regarding their village’s disappearances. They would start again, moving to France and maintain movement to avoid problems.

-Swagger never quite fit, if not for his off accent, then for his peculiarities, which earned him ridicule in the classroom. But he excelled academically and athletically. It wasn’t until a fellow student had an unfortunate accident in chemistry class that Swagger would be pulled from school. The poor student’s face had been melted clean off. The chemicals they were using should not have been nearly as dangerous. And no one would notice that that student was a particular repeat offender in harassing Swagger.

-When Swaggers Chosen was born into the world his hunger doubled. It became increasingly apparent that he couldn’t sustain a life in the French countryside, regardless of his mother’s support. It occurred to them that they wouldn’t be safe for much longer either. A career in warfare seemed appropriate for both his skills and dietary needs. Here, Swagger would flourish.

-Swagger is an incredibly competent soldier. Having absorbed everything he could get. Medic, demo, distance or close combat. You name it, he can do it. And he is an arrogant shit about it.

-Very playful on the field, chatty on the comms. However he can and will take over a situation, where he leads with care and efficiency. The only reason he hasn't pursued a higher position is because he knows it will take away from his time in the field. He could give a fuck less for the paperwork involved.

-Anything is a weapon in Swagger’s hands. Steel chairs, power tools, briefcase, pool ball, piano, wave runner, toilet, toilet water. That one incident with the zamboni. Has been known to use his own rifle as a fucking warhammer when ammo is gone.

-Appears to be everywhere and nowhere. Seemingly popping up out of nowhere to help out any of his fellow teammates where he absolutely showboats.

-Regularly rubs his skills in on the field. “You need me, don’t pretend” he purrs in his french lilt.

-Annoys the absolute piss out of Nikto and König, frankly corvid behavior. Pokes at them just enough to get a snap before taking off with a chuckle.

-Nosey. Not gossipy, no. Nosey He has the dirt on everyone, simply because he likes having the information. Will totally feign ignorance about some hot gossip, even though he found out about it days ago from someone else.

-Is generally liked by the team, he can be conceited, but most have come to tolerate it. Actually gets along with Declan. He’s besties with Stilleto.

-World’s biggest sore loser. Can't play board games for this reason. Not since he got into a fist fight with Declan over Uno. Will accuse everyone of cheating.

-Can't sit normally, likes to perch in high places. Absolutely kicks his legs like a toddler.

-Has freckles.

-Being a demon, Swagger is equipped with a “true” form he can shift into at will. Some of these elements peak through when he is particularly compromised or starving. Eyes that resemble that of a bearded vulture. He remains hidden under his mask and layers.

-Swagger’s mask became a necessity. The farther he falls, the harder it is to control himself. Noxious fumes and acidic fluid spills from his mouth in the heat of it all. The mask is to keep the fumes in rather than out. These fumes can range from mild sedatives, psychedelics, or poisons.

-As stated above Swagger’s diet primarily consists of flesh and bone. He can eat processed animal meats or long dead corpses if he absolutely has to. But there is an emotional element to his feeding. Something about the residual emotion buried in the bones of a fresh kill is more filling. The more magical the better. Has been seen snacking on teeth like fucking m&ms.

-Has been found more than once painting himself in blood. For scent camouflage he claims. He’s certainly not obsessed with it aha.

-Has been confident since the day his mother’s told him stories of Chosen pairs. He always knew he would find his. He would just need to be patient. When the time came, he would devour them. Rightfully take back control of himself. That is until he meets her…..

#swagger cod #roland swagger kaminski #call of duty #mwiii #cod operator #monster au #pack kortac #take this from meeeee #but he's my aangeeeeellll

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space-mermaid-writing · 2 years

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The witchling and the god [Loki x Witch!Reader] Chapter 14

Summary: The Avengers were looking for someone to help Loki fit in with the team. To become socially acceptable, so to speak. He had been given the choice of sitting in a cell in Asgard or serving some sort of community service probation on Midgard. The Avengers and Shield both felt that as long as Loki was on Earth, he should be under supervision. This is now your job. Why? Because you’re a witch. You’re not sure why this qualifies you, but here you are, giving it a shot. What could possibly go wrong?

Tags: Witch!Reader, Magic, Witches, slow burn, everybody lives in the tower, character development, Loki‘s redemption, Stephen Strange is a friend, Loki and Stephen are frenemies, Tony Stark is a good bro, kids love Loki, Tony has stupid nicknames for everybody, eventual smut

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Read it on AO3 | Previous | Next

Chapter's Note: It’s about time we introduce your family! Beta by @zaria-04

Chapter 14: Siblings give good advice

You touch a rune on the frame of your pantry door and step through. It leads you into your older sister's hallway. It's still early in the morning and due to the time difference, you don't have to be in New York until the afternoon.

You called her in advance, so she is not surprised by your appearance and welcomes you with a warm hug.

"Ding Dong, Bell," you greet her grinning.

Actually, your sister's name is Essebell. But while the name was quite popular in the 17th and 18th centuries, today it falls under exotic. Whenever your sister moves, she also changes her name every few decades in the process to be less noticeable. Everything from Ellsabeth to Isabell has been used. Right now she's using a neutral Elizabeth. You never got out of the habit of using this specific nickname for her. A privilege between siblings.

She leads you into the living room and serves you a white wine for brunch. French people.

She's wearing a long-sleeved dress that is popular in the local fashion, but you see her tattoos peeking out at her wrists and neckline, and discover a fairly new one on her throat. You know her whole arms and part of her calves are full of them.

"How are you?" she asks you as you sit down with that special sibling tone. She's long known you're here because you need your sister's advice, maybe a shoulder to lean on or just a tight hug.

You automatically respond with the same phrase you always use. "I'm fine." Even as the words leave your mouth, you know they're not true and that you don't need to fool your sister. But stubborn as you are, you don't want to admit it, which is why you add in response to her unconvinced look: "Well, I've had a stressful week, but we can talk about that in a minute. Tell me about yourself first. How's Jacques?"

"He's at work. There's a new, time-consuming project," Elizabeth tells me. Her husband is an architect who specializes in traditional building methods in the old timbered style. The last few years, it seems, that's been in quite a bit of demand. Goes along with the back to the roots movement, you guess.

Elizabeth sighs.

"We don't see each other that much right now. There have been arguments about it. Especially since we've been trying for kids for so long."

You nod in understanding. "You guys have time," you reassure her, "You don't suddenly have your menopause at forty."

"True, but he still ages normally. And this whole ‘I'll live so much longer than him' thing doesn't make it any easier."

That's always the risk when a witch gets involved with a mere mortal. Your sister knew that ahead of time and still chose Jacques. For him, the issue came as a bit more of a surprise, but he's still standing by her side. And that's saying a lot.

You've been through this too. It always ends in pain, but if the love is strong enough, it's worth it. Otherwise, you or your siblings wouldn't necessarily have been born either. All your fathers were without magic, all long since buried.

"Well, I've complained enough," your sister decides. "Now it's your turn."

You chuckle. Elizabeth likes to let the older sister hang out. "I met someone at work," you tell her and she perks up. "He's from another world and he's also magically gifted. It's complicated, I'm not quite sure of his intentions. He's a big flirt. We kissed yesterday and I kinda panicked."

"Aw, my baby sister plays coy."

"Shut up!" You don't mean it as harshly as you say it. It's just friendly sibling banter. "I don't know what to do."

Elizabeth takes a sip of wine. "I do," she says simply. "Have fun. Enjoy it. You like him, don't you? You wouldn't tell me about him otherwise."

"Yeah…"

"Then go get him." She smiles at you like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "He seems into you. And why shouldn’t he? I mean, you are kind and sexy and-…"

"Don't say it," you plea.

"… magical."

You groan, but can't help but laugh. Elizabeth always knows just the right words to cheer you up. Even if it's a cheesy joke. "We work together. What if he breaks my heart?" you ask her.

"Then quit the job and curse him. Nothing major, just spoil his favorite food, make it rot when he eats it." She pours herself more wine. "That's what I did with Léon after he cheated. Major douchebag. He later married her and had five grandchildren. Could never eat potatoes again."

"Wasn't that the one that got shot in the first World War and always talked about the weirdly shaped scar on his leg," you remember.

"Yes, the very one!"

You shake your head as you think back to the man. You and your sister's taste in men is very different.

You chat a bit more about past lovers and people you both once knew, before it's time for you to head off to work. You're already feeling better. It always helps to talk to your siblings when something is on your mind. Especially your big sister.

When you enter the Prince's Suite shortly after, you meet Thor standing in the kitchen. It's rare that you see him here in the mornings, mostly he stays away to give Loki and you privacy for your work – even if it doesn’t really feel like work anymore. Hasn’t for quite a while.

Thor knows that his brother, as much as he loves him, sometimes acts differently around him.

"Greetings, Lady Witch."

"Hello Thor," you greet him happily. You look around the otherwise empty living area for a moment, then walk over to the kitchen counter. "Is Loki not here?"

"He should be in these chambers. Did you two fight?" Thor asks. He's perceptive – maybe he knows his brother all too well. "Did he do something wrong?"

"Why does everyone always think Loki is the one who did something wrong?" You're not sure whether to be amused or annoyed by his question. Especially from Thor, you would have expected something else.

He eyes you curiously. "What are your intentions with Loki?"

"Why do you ask? Did he say something?" Now it's you who's looking at him curiously.

But Thor merely shrugs his shoulders. "I'm just curious."

You hesitate with your answer, letting your eyes wander over the open space once more. Loki has never skipped a meeting before. It's unusual for him. So far, he has always been present in one form or another. Did your behavior yesterday affect him that much? Did he just make himself invisible and wait until you two were alone? You turn your head back to Thor and notice that he is watching you. You have no idea what he's actually doing here in the kitchen, he's not preparing any food or seems otherwise busy.

"Hey Thor, do you remember when we talked about the thing?"

Thinking, he draws his brows together. "Please enlighten me: to which thing exactly are you referring?"

You circle the kitchen counter, lowering your voice a bit so no one else can hear your voice – as if you are about to tell a secret. "That time I told you I had a crush on you because you're the most handsome person I've ever laid my eyes upon. But you said that you don't reciprocate the feelings – but maybe with some time…" With each word you step closer to him.

Thor's expression changes from confused to disbelieving within a few seconds. For a brief moment you fear that you are wrong in your assumption, that you have misjudged the situation. But then you see a shock flash across his face. Anger. He tries to pull himself together, to give a neutral answer.

"My…opinion about that hasn't changed… " he grumbles dismissively, taking a step back.

You can't stifle your grin any longer. It seems to confuse him even more. You were right! "Your Thor imitation is great. A flawless imitation," you chuckle. “Could have fooled me.”

He looks at you with a mixture of surprise and confusion and then – in front of your eyes – Thor transforms back into Loki. "What gave it away?" he asks.

"You, meaning Loki, were not here," you explain, "Why did you do that?"

"I wasn't sure if you wanted to see me today," he admits and for maybe the first time ever, he seems almost unsure.

"I understand that. But I came here to see you, not Thor nor anyone else. Yesterday I didn't tell you to leave because I was upset or angry, just overwhelmed. I needed time to think."

"And what conclusion did you come to after thinking?"

"Like I said: I like your company. A lot actually. We had a tough start when we first met and I guess I'm afraid that this is just one of your games. That you're toying with me."

Loki looks at you, his eyes soft. They are filled with such fondness that you never saw in them before. "I can assure you, Witchling, whatever my intention was at the beginning, this is not a game for me. I value your company, but if you choose to keep our relationship professional, I will respect your choice."

He puts the decision in your hands. You weigh it seriously – Loki offers you an easy way out. Everything would stay the same, you two would probably never speak of it again. You would remain in control. It would be safe, familiar. Alone. Boring.

You remember the conversation with your sister.

"I'm done hiding. I don't know where this will lead or how it will end, but I'm ready to find out."

Loki's lips turn into a genuine smile. "Look at you, Witchling, embracing the chaos.”

"It's scary," you admit.

"It's liberating, isn't it?" Before you can answer, Loki kisses you, his lips soft and hot against yours. He kisses you, just a soft press that is enough to ignite your whole body. You know you made the right decision.

You briefly detach yourself from him, because you still want to clarify one thing. "Just for the record: I never had such a thing with Thor."

"Good," Loki growls, "I don't share with my brother."

"Is that a promise?"

"It's also a threat." As if to punctuate his words, he kisses you again. More heated this time. You throw away your last doubts and let yourself fall completely. Loki puts his arms around you, pulling you close to him. His tongue demands entrance, which you are only too happy to grant.

Right now you don't even care if the real Thor would step in and see you two. It's exciting – and surprisingly easy.

Loki's mouth moves to your ear. "If we're going to continue this, we should move to my private chambers," he murmurs, giving you a wet kiss on the crook of your neck. You tilt your head a little to the side to make more room for him.

"As tempting as that is, we have work to do," you remind him, but make no move to stop him.

Loki grins broadly. "I am your work. Do me."

It's a cheesy joke and it's so unexpected, it cracks you up. You laugh freely, burying your face in Loki's chest as you do so. It's the reaction he wanted, as Loki watches you with a mixture of satisfaction and awe.

"I intend to do that. Later," you wink at him.

"I hold you to that promise, Witchling."

You're about to suggest making some tea when the door opens and Thor comes into the suite. He sees the two of you standing in the kitchen, close together. A meaningful grin creeps onto his lips, but an honest one. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

Loki rolls his eyes. "Yes, you are. Your timing is very inconvenient."

"Have you told her about the meeting yet?" Thor asks his brother.

"I have not" Loki sounds slightly annoyed and you look at him questioningly.

"What meeting?"

But in his place it is Thor again who happily answers. "My brother will accompany me and the Avengers on future adventures.

Loki turns to him. "Could you leave and let me have this conversation alone with my lady?"

This new nickname makes your heart leap. Thor doesn't move from the spot, but he remains silent and lets his brother speak. Loki turns back to you. "Apparently they met yesterday during my absence and discussed the matter. They informed me this morning. I thought it would be a good opportunity to see if your work bears any fruits so I agreed," he explains matter-of-factly.

It surprises you a little that you don't know anything about this meeting. On the other hand, you haven't been in the compound for two days, haven't even checked your emails. So it's quite possible that you simply overlooked it.

Fruit of your work, like he agreed just for you, maybe even just because of yesterday. But most of the work here was done by Loki himself. You're just keeping him company and pointing him in the right direction.

You put your hand on his, which he has placed on the kitchen counter and beam at him. "That's fantastic. You'll do great!"

"Of course I will. I'm a god," he replies, but secretly he's happy about your praise. He is just awkward about it and tries to dismiss it. Actually, he finds the prospect of getting out of the tower more often, of finally doing something again, of being back in the field, so to speak, quite appealing. Even if he has to put up with the presence of these so-called heroes. But as long as you stay by his side, even that will be acceptable.

The mission in Los Angeles reminded him that he's not just a prince who rests on his comfortable cushion. He likes the adrenaline and the feeling of adventure. Norse blood runs through his veins.

"We should celebrate," you suggest, and Thor nods vigorously.

"I agree."

"We can celebrate once we have actually completed a mission successfully," Loki objects, but puts his arm around your waist and pulls you close to him. He is happy with the outcome of this morning and sneaks a kiss on your head.

____________________________

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#loki x y/n #Loki x reader #loki layfeyson x you #loki laufesyon x reader #Loki x you #imagine loki #the witchling and the god #imagine marvel #mcu prompt #loki odison x reader #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #loki fanfction #slow burn #loki odinson #loki laufeyson

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elminx · 3 months

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Hello. Have you ever tried to influence the weather with runes or other graphic signs? How much do you think it is possible for a person to resist the forces of nature?Thank you for your reply!

Hey there, Sunglasses!

Although weather working is one of the oldest forms of magic, I don't believe you can RESIST nature's forces. I may be a bit pedantic about the choice of words here. I think that you can work with the weather, but the weather is a huge phenomenon so changing it drastically would take a ton of energy.

I've never used anything passive like runes or other types of sigalry. That's interesting (and there is a history of that in Icelandic culture worth checking out), but not how I've ever gone about it.

I have fairly successfully made it rain on several occasions throughout my life.

The first and most successful method is by leading multiple people (the smallest number was four including myself) in a rain dance in which I gathered the energy, focused it, and then released it into the sky. I used this as a trick to keep kids occupied when I worked as a camp counselor as a teenager. I'd say I had a success rate of well above 50%, although, on the hot summer days, it often pulled dangerous weather down on us.

I tried this the night before my wedding with my three closest friends (who happened to also be water signs) while walking the back streets of the city I was living in at the time. We called in a huge thunderstorm that raged all night, but my wedding was bright and clear the next afternoon.

I've also had some success pulling localized rainstorms that were already there to my location. I've done the trick of pouring out water into my garden and telling the sky, "See, it isn't that hard!" I've also asked Thor to bring the storms my way or to rain a storm out so that it doesn't affect my next-day plans. (always with a shot of liquor in hand)

I've had more than 50% success with these methods, but much less than when I've had additional help from others for a full rain dance.

That said, you can't make rain out of nothing. In a drought-filled summer, all my rain magic and pleas were completely unanswered. And I have had no luck dissuading a large storm altogether.

Of course, I'm a pretty fire and earth heavy witch so it's entirely possible that a more watery person might have much better luck than I.

#asks #weather magic

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skrrts · 2 months

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♡ amaranth #1 (series) | dropped project

✧reader x demon!hongjoong & reader x witch!mingi ✧genre: supernatural, rebirth, soulmates, poly romance (reader) ✧warnings: insecurities, mention of death, signs of mental health, mention of witchcraft, eating, food, minors dni ✧ word count: 5,6k ✧summary: Hongjoong never cared for love until he met you. The demon courted you until your family gave their blessing for a wedding, unaware of what he was. However, before the bond could be sealed, you were killed. Scared to lose you for good, knowing you already lived most of the lives given to a human soul, he begins to search for your reincarnation. 2024, and your current life is quite boring. You study while working at a local bookstore. It’s where you meet Mingi, a witch who charms you for his own reasons. You gain a soft spot for him when the demon appears, announcing you are his. You have no idea what’s going on when the two supernatural beings seem about to start a fight over who gets to claim your soul for good. Just that they forget to ask you about your thoughts on that.

a/n: a dropped project inspired by "goblin" & "love & deepspace". i felt this one was too specific. This chapter was written and edited so I figured instead of just deleting it, I'll post it to the dashboard & in my dropped project tag.

#01 The Witch ; MINGI ; A Soul To Grow

Yunho looked with concern at Mingi. The runes on his body indicated that the younger man had overdone it again. “You shouldn’t push yourself so hard,” his voice was gentle as he leaned forward and healed his best friend, but he knew there was only so much he could do. Without completing the ritual every member of their coven went through, it proved to be harsher on the body with every passing year to use magic in their way. It was of no help that Mingi was more persistent to go ahead than any other witch.

The small huff indicated that he did not appreciate the lecture coming from his best friend. “Well, you heard my reading earlier. They say I am about to find the soul that will allow for my growth to happen.” Yunho knew that no matter how confident the other tried to be, the feeling of falling behind was hard on him, even terrifying.

For the coven, it was proof of weakness that Mingi had not found a soul yet, and for Mingi, a fear of falling behind, falling out, and being left alone. It was foolish because, for Yunho, the decision always would be an easy one. He’d rather leave with his best friend than stay, even if that meant giving up on his parents, as hard as that was.

“Well, there are many ways one can grow; it doesn’t mean that you have to do the ritual…” Yunho tried again, but he already knew it was rather pointless. Once Mingi set his mind on something, there was only success or hard failure with no room for recovery.

“It will be fine, just wait,” Mingi stood up, rolling his shoulders. “I am already feeling better, thanks,” he lied, and Yunho sighed but stood up, a soft smile on his lips. “Be careful and call me if you need anything.”

“This was the last shelf, and nothing is missing. I’m relieved! The last inventory check showed just how many books were stolen,” Seonghwa sighed as he handed you the list to sign with your name, confirming that the two of you had completed the task together. “I can’t blame them. As a student myself, I know the financial struggles too well.” You wouldn’t be able to study if it weren’t for this job and the financial help from your family, who saved up for your academic future since the day you were born.

Your life was rather uneventful: average family, normal childhood, and after graduation, you decided to study in a city about three hours away from your hometown. You moved into an apartment that barely deserved the name, just large enough to fit a bed and a desk, but it did the job. When you were looking for work, you found an ad for this bookstore that only sold books to students. Despite the niche market, there wasn’t a topic or major for which the store didn’t have literature.

It was a smart location, situated right next to the campus. Seonghwa’s parents opened the shop when he was little, and he took over when they wanted to go on a world trip. Although he was about the same age as you, he seemed content with his fate. The two of you got along well, and you also liked Jongho, who worked the other shift once a week. Sometimes, you both ran the shop together. He was a quiet guy but always seemed to know a little bit about everything whenever a student came in looking for a specific-themed book.

“Thanks again for helping. This just made it so much faster!” Seonghwa smiled and shrugged off the apron he wore with the store’s name and logo. Each of you had one, although Seonghwa took great care to ensure everyone had a color he thought suited them best. “I will make sure to repay you. How about a boba tea? That new store across the street seems promising.”

The idea was nice. Money was tight, and there were only so many times a month when you could treat yourself to snacks. “Sounds good! It’s been forever since I had one. Feel free to pick a flavor you approve of; anything will be fine!” Seonghwa chuckled. “Alright, love. I’ll be going then to get us something sweet. Do you think you’ll be okay alone?” You nodded. It wasn’t the first time you ran the store on your own by now. “Sure thing. It’s almost closing time, and I doubt anything will happen.”

Seonghwa smiled. “Okay, I’ll be back in no time.” You gave him a small wave and watched as he walked down the street. “I wonder more if he will be back in time, considering he seems quite smitten with somebody working there,” you chuckled to yourself as you started to prepare for closing the store. Since the two of you had just done the inventory for June, there wasn’t much left to do. With the new semester approaching and new students arriving, you slowly made room for new books, making the store feel a little emptier than usual until the deliveries arrived.

You flipped through a medical book that had fallen off a shelf. There was a quiet admiration for those who pursued such a difficult study, and you felt a little guilty that you were working towards a language degree with hopes of becoming a teacher abroad one day. You placed it back on the shelf when the doorbell announced a visitor. At first, you wondered if Seonghwa had returned quickly for a change, but instead, a tall stranger had entered, looking around.

There were a few things about him that stood out, from his height to his fashion, which somehow screamed emo with a modern touch. Maybe it was the tattoos, and you judged yourself for being so biased, especially since the only reason you still didn’t have a single one was because you chickened out every time you stood in front of a studio. While his hair wasn’t dyed, he had an undercut and wore quite a bit of jewelry.

You finally cleared your throat and tilted your head. “Can I help you?” His head turned around, and his eyes remained hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, which seemed a little off considering the sun hadn’t shown all day. You knew the expression of curiosity; it didn’t require visible eyes. It wasn’t the first time a new student came in too eager or just a tourist interested in the old building the bookstore was tucked into.

“You guys aren’t closed yet, are you?” he hummed, the question way too casual to be sincere. “No, we’re still open for about,” you checked your watch, “thirty more minutes. We only sell books related to the university, though. I know the name doesn’t always make it too obvious.” Ah, why did you just say that? It was rude to assume he wasn’t a hip art student or studying something like IT.

It didn’t seem like he took offense, though; the smile remained on his lips. “I’m aware. I was looking for a few particular historical books. I have a list if that helps?” A history student? Now that was a surprise. “Sure, let me have a look.” When he lifted his hand, you noticed just how many rings he wore on each finger. He really had a particular style.

After working here for almost two years, you knew a little bit about every section and could tell by two titles that this was an actual list. You read through it, picked up a basket, and placed each book inside. It couldn’t have taken more than five minutes when you returned, looking up at him. The stranger had taken off his sunglasses by now, and you blinked, admitting he had quite unique and handsome features, from the curious dark eyes to the little moles and plump lips.

You shook yourself awake by typing something on the keyboard. “We have everything but the one about the shamans. If I place an order today, it should be here by Monday. Would you like me to order it?” It would mean he’d have to give you his name, and you happened to be here on Monday too. Wait, why were you keen on that?!

“That would be cool! Would it be alright if I just reserve the other books and pick them up and pay for them all at once on Monday?” he asked, fingers brushing through his hair. “Sure, that’s no problem. I only need your name, and then I can make a note. I will be here on Monday, but my colleagues will also find it. Do you have a student ID? If you have one, we apply a 2% discount for the entire order. I can just prepare everything, and you will be quick on Monday.”

He looked at the basket and then back to you, smiling. “Sure, I have one. One second, it’s somewhere here.” It took him a moment before he pulled out a worn-out leather wallet and offered it to you. Your fingers took it as casually as possible, and you typed in the number before you had a quick glance at his name: Song Mingi. A unique one, at least you only ever encountered one Mingi before, and that was telling, working in a store with hundreds of new students every term.

“I see this is your first time shopping here. I can make you an account if you want to. It’s literally just your name and student number. At the end of the year, you can get a list from us to make use of the tax reduction for what you spent on your student materials…” He was staring at you, and you found yourself blushing. “Is something wrong?”

The smile turned into a grin. “I just thought you were pretty good-looking. Do you have a boyfriend or girlfriend, maybe?” Staring at him, you blinked. “I…uhm, thank you? I mean no, I am single.” Why did you give him this information? Maybe because this was the first time anyone flirted with you. It wasn’t rare for customers to bring gifts for Seonghwa in hopes of winning the young bookshop owner’s heart, so did Jongho. Considering you were here on most days and did not…

You didn’t think of yourself as unattractive, but you were just like your life: very down-to-earth and uneventful.

“Good to know,” he seemed pleased with your reaction, and the sunglasses returned to his nose. “And that would be great; those books get pretty expensive. I will come back on Monday then, same time?” The question seemed intended to find out if you would be here, and while everyone would likely tell you to be less reckless with a stranger, you nodded.

The moment Mingi walked out of the store, a heavy sigh left his lips as he got a last glimpse of you through the large window of the bookstore. How strange that after looking for so long, he finally found someone like you — a soul living its final life.

There was a special magic that remained in such a soul, and upon release, a witch could consume it. Well, that was the simple way to describe it because the offering had to be made willingly, or else it would simply disappear like all the others when there was nothing left for it, passing over for good.

Mingi’s phone rang, and he sighed, noting the name of his best friend. He hesitated but eventually answered. “I’ll be back soon. Did you miss me so much?” he joked, but Yunho’s silence was telling. The witch rolled his eyes as he watched his shadow grow as the sun began to set. “What’s with calling me just to be quiet?” It made him nervous, although he would never admit it.

“How did it go?” Yunho sounded too concerned, which was odd for a witch as talented as him. “I found one,” Mingi finally shared, shrugging to himself. “Works at a bookstore close to our new university. Probably our age. Somewhat cute but no signs of, you know, being different from other humans or knowing that it’s the last one…”

Mingi lied to himself every time he said he was fine with the traditions of his coven and the way they worked their magic. He was desperate to fit in, no matter what he needed to do. He couldn’t bear the thought of being alone.

You felt a little silly by the time you made it to the bookstore. It was quite obvious just how much effort you put into your outfit today; you even applied a little bit of makeup and fixed your hair. Seonghwa was curious right away, but because it was a rather busy day, you managed to dodge his attempts at questioning you. When the evening came around and the end of your shift, you started to wonder if maybe you had let yourself be tricked into thinking Mingi really would come.

You were tidying up your apron when the door opened and Seonghwa made a knowing noise. You were just hanging your bag over your shoulder when you noticed the tall figure standing there. Mingi looked quite a bit different from last time: while still modern and very handsome, he wore glasses and a hat that made him look much more mature, together with a more tuned down oufit. When your gazes met, he grinned, "Sorry, I got a little distracted, am I too late?”

He didn’t look like he was here to pick up a bunch of books, but more to ask you out for a date. For some reason, it seemed you had the same thought, because there was a gentle hope that just maybe, luck would be on your side. Why not? If anyone else always got those random dates, why not you?

“You must be Mister Song? The book you ordered arrived,” Seonghwa chuckled and pulled the paper bag up. “Everything is already packed, so you only have to pay.” Mingi seemed to force himself a little to look at the store owner, but he wasn’t unkind. “Thank you. I appreciate it was as quick.” He paid and took the bag, looking at you again.

“Looks like you finished work?” Before you could say something, Seonghwa was already about it, giving you a gentle shove. “Oh yes, we are done here for the day. It’s a lovely evening for a change, no rain or anything. Enjoy!” He winked at you, and before you could say anything, the two of you were out on the street. You cleared your throat, “Sorry about that, he’s always quite keen on… things.”

Mingi laughed, leaning down a little to look at you. “Well, it’s quite late and you shouldn’t be out alone. Maybe I can walk you home, unless… you have a bit of time?” So it was a date! You tried to hide your excitement about going out with a stranger you knew nothing about other than his name, age, and major. “Ah, sure! I don’t work tomorrow and my lectures are in the late afternoon.”

He seemed happy about your answer and turned around. “Mind to come to my car with me? It’s nearby, just want to drop the books there.” You gave him a quick nod and walked beside him. Mingi adjusted his steps to match yours, looking at you. “So, you know my major, what about you?” His question seemed genuine, so you decided to give him the proper answer.

“It’s boring, but I want to work as a teacher overseas, for languages. I thought it would be amazing to live abroad, teaching older students. I know almost everyone seems to do it these days, but I want to do it properly, which is why I decided to study.” Your parents hadn’t been all thrilled about it, as you could have done anything, but they supported you.

Mingi did not seem to be disappointed about your answer but more invested. “Interesting! I take it that means you like to travel? Any places you would like to go to? It could be to work or just to visit and enjoy a vacation. I always tell myself I would, but you could say studies keep me here…” You felt there was more to it, but it would be rude to ask.

Instead, you tapped a finger against your chin, trying to figure out an answer. “Hmm, I feel like there are just so many places one could go, you know? I mean, our country is beautiful, but I really would like to see more of the world. Maybe places where cultures really clash, like Canada or Australia, which is a little silly. I’m not sure if they would hire a Korean teacher there.” You laughed and looked at him.

Mingi seemed to have taken quite an interest in your face; his smile had changed from the overly confident version from earlier to something gentle. “I do not think it sounds silly. If anything, it’s smart. I feel there is quite a demand for just that.” He nodded and pointed towards a black van. “This is my car.”

It wasn’t what you expected, but at the same time, fitting. “I will wait here, take your time,” you nodded, and he winked. “It only will take a second.” He stepped over and opened the trunk, placing the books inside before returning to your side. Oh, this man was bold. You couldn’t stop thinking that when he offered his arm to you. “Shall we?” There was a hint of hesitation; you questioned if you were so desperate at this point to accept it so easily.

Your dating experiences weren’t even worth a mention. There was a cute guy in high school, a few dates in the first year of college, but that was about it. You always figured that you simply were too ordinary and your drive to be in a relationship too low to try and change that. It didn’t mean you did not enjoy the idea; the chance to explore it was too tempting to miss out on. “Where are we going?”

Mingi did not seem to be too suspicious about your hesitations; he just was too confident to worry about it. “Well, I am a history major, so the most logical thing to me is to take you to a place that suits this while being cute,” he chuckled. “There is this active exhibition going on right now; I thought that could be fun. If you do not feel like that, though, we can just grab some food and then get you home.”

Now you really felt bad for purely judging him for the tattoos on his neck you were sure to have seen on the first day, which seemed to be covered by his outfit today. He really was more than his appearance or the confidence he portrayed. “Oh no, that sounds fun! I just should warn you, it has been quite some time since I went to a place like that.”

Mingi was surprised just how trusting you were. Back at the store, upon first meeting, he had thought of you as a confident person because you were in your own territory. It was why he decided to approach you there first instead of going for a random flirt, but now, you almost seemed too generous to a stranger.

No, he did not start and get attached, especially not that quickly, or he wouldn’t be any better. Then again, it wasn’t so easy because he could sense the radiant energy that your soul held. A soul that reached the end of its human circle was the strongest. It was why so many supernatural beings were usually drawn to it, but it seemed your life had been rather quiet so far. Good for him; he could do this with fewer worries…

The exhibition was designed for tourists, with giant items, some of them interactive, arranged to resemble a playground. Mingi watched you with curiosity as you looked surprisingly excited by the time he bought the tickets.

“If I’d have known they did something like this, maybe I’d have come sooner,” you joked, and Mingi smiled. He watched as you stepped ahead, looking around, passing by other visitors, some of whom were couples. Mingi had no experience when it came to dating. While his confidence wasn’t necessarily a lie, it just didn’t work so easily for him. Love meant letting people in, and with that either, lying or sharing the truth. But how did you explain to anyone that he was part of a witch coven?

He stopped as you picked the swing of all things, looking a little shy at him. He could tell you hoped he’d push you. “Really? If you wanted to do this, we could have just gone to an actual playground,” he teased, but Mingi stepped behind it. The swing was covered in leaves, making it look like it was part of a jungle.

“We could, but there we would be judged as strange adults. Here we can do it while pretending it’s all for gaining knowledge.” At least, you were witty. Mingi liked it and hoped to see a little more to it. After all, he needed to win you over so you would volunteer to leave your soul to him by the time of your end… He pushed the thought aside and started to aid you with the swinging.

“You seem too confident to care about the opinions of others,” he started, a means to try and get to know you better. It was easier to ask questions when you did not have to look the other in the eye. Considering that silence followed as you moved, Mingi assumed you were more careful with your answer.

“I guess I am, but then I am not. It’s hard to explain, but I feel as I start confident, but then when I think about it, I get nervous. Then, it’s like I never was confident to begin with, you know?”

Your voice was thoughtful as you swung through the air, and Mingi was a little speechless because he knew that feeling exactly. He too often tried to act confident, but then, when feelings and thoughts came crashing in, he crumbled. Just he tried to hide it, and for all other times, he had Yunho, who stepped in to shelter him.

He hated feeling so weak.

You had to cling to the swing not to fall forward when it was suddenly forcefully stopped, but before you could complain about it, Mingi’s face was close. This time, you could see his eyes clearly and the two moles that felt so unique. His breath tickled your skin, and you had no idea just what was going on anymore. You swallowed as he slowly leaned in, his long lashes seemed ready to shut when you found yourself leaning back.

“Ah…. I’m sorry, I think this is too early,” you whispered, and whatever had gotten over him seemed to be gone. The man blinked and shook his head: “Yeah! Sorry! I just, you know! Sad topics, never mind, I mean we do not have to talk about it, I get it.” It was obvious that he was a little lost , so you tried to fix it, getting up with a smile.

“No, don’t worry about it, I do not mind! It’s nice knowing somebody understands it, you know?” You dropped the topic. “Well, shall we look at the rest and then get some food? There is a burger place Hwa recommended to me the other day nearby.”

Mingi managed to smile; you were certain it was more forced this time. Whatever was on his mind must be quite serious, and you felt bad for likely having been the reason for it. “Sure, sounds good.”

You tried your best to make the rest of your time at the museum more comfortable, asking questions about if he came here often and what his favorite exhibition had been. Slowly, Mingi relaxed again, and the conversation was casual and fun. He knew quite a bit about it although not being an art major but shared how he had considered studying that, but his family insisted on something more traditional. He spoke about his enjoyment of music and interest in fashion.

Every time you complimented it, his smile seemed to grow and it made you oddly happy. You enjoyed listening to him, and Mingi made sure to give you time to share your thoughts on it. By the time you made it to the burger shop, nobody would be able to guess that the two of you only had known each other for more or less one day.

“Mh, I didn’t remember they were so expensive,” you mumbled to yourself. Mingi chuckled: “You know, I could just invite you?” You hurried to shake your head: “No! You paid for the museum, shame on them for taking money from students… I got this!” He waved his hands: “How about we share the fries? I never will eat an entire package on my own anyway.”

You could tell he was trying to help, so you sighed and gave in, just mentally reminding yourself this would mean living off instant food for the next week to come. Once the order was set and the tray carried to a small table, the two of you ate and Mingi relaxed back, eyes wandering outside the window. “I admit, this was a lot more fun than I expected. Yunho comes with me sometimes but he’s really busy with his work; I feel bad to ask him to tag along to things like that.”

This was the second time the name slipped, first earlier when you looked at a painting of a dog. “A friend?” you asked, picking up a fry and watching him nod. The way he smiled made it obvious that this Yunho must be important to the student. “He’s been my best friend since early childhood, pretty much like a brother.”

This must be nice, having a friend like that. You couldn’t complain, really. You had quite a few good friends but none of them was to the level of being considered equal to a sibling. “Is he also some edgy and tall guy like you?” you asked playfully with a wink. Mingi rolled his eyes, smirking: “Please, edgy is such an old-style word! Nah, he is taller than myself but other than that, very caring.”

You laughed: “Likely very popular with the girls.” Mingi shrugged, finishing his chicken burger. “Who knows, I tell him to take his chances but like I said… he’s somewhat busy.” You nodded, deciding not to pry today; if anything, you might learn more about it naturally. “So, I had a lot of fun today. Thanks for inviting me. That leaves it, well, I still do not have your number.”

Mingi blinked, realizing you were right, and he chuckled, taking out his phone and offering it to you. “Let’s change that then!” You smiled and gave him yours before you both saved each other. When you checked under what he registered himself, you playfully rolled your eyes: “Tall Handsome, really?” He rose from the chair: “Just making sure! It’s getting late, let’s get you home.”

When he said it was time to go, you were a little disappointed but he was right. While your semester was as good as over, you had a few extra classes taken for the credits. You walked back to his van and he drove you to your apartment complex.

“Next time, the plan’s on me,” you offered with a smile and Mingi nodded. “Sounds good… sleep well.” You hesitated for a moment before leaning in, pressing a quick kiss on his cheek before getting out of the car. You were confident there was a hint of a blush on his cheek as he smiled and drove off.

“Ah, this was such a long and expensive day,” you sighed to yourself before stopping in front of the mailboxes. A few envelopes were shoved inside yours. You sighed as you opened them and looked at the signature of the university. “Always so in time with the payment note for the next term…”

You flipped through the others, sorted out ads, and moved over to the trashcans to leave what you didn’t need right away when a pale hand appeared, opening the can for you. You looked up in surprise, facing a man that was about your own height. You did not pay too much attention to that, though; his features were much more captivating. It was hard to describe but there was something oddly beautiful about him. Sharp yet elegant, knowing, and curious eyes, a casual smile on his lips as his free hand brushed through dark brown curls.

“Thank you,” you mumbled. A quick glance over the rest of his appearance made you wonder what he was doing here. While his style was certainly unique, it wasn’t difficult to spot pricy brands, nothing people in this neighborhood wore. Yet, for some reason, he seemed familiar. Maybe you did encounter him before?

“You are welcome. It’s a little late to get out the trash; being out after dark is a little dangerous or so I heard,” his voice was melodic, and you had a hard time looking at him as for some reason, he made you nervous. What was it with handsome men suddenly paying attention to you this month?

“It’s not as bad as the press wants you to think,” you joked but fixed your bag. “I am about to get up so…” His smile did not fade, eyes fixed on you before he nodded. “Well, I actually acquired this building today. Guess, I’ll see you then. Sleep well.” It was hard to tell what felt more off, the bow he gave you or the news that he bought this building… he couldn’t be much older than yourself, and why would anyone want this?

All you could do was stare as he walked into the night. Yes, this really was a strange day. “Mh, gosh, I spend too much time with books!” You patted your cheeks like it would wake you up before disappearing into your small apartment.

Hongjoong sighed as he settled into the armchair close to the fireplace. On the day he arrived in this city, he knew right away he had finally found you after searching for two centuries.

Your soul was burning so brightly, so beautifully, that he would have enjoyed it if not for knowing that by the time he finally managed to track you down, you truly had reached your final life.

You looked different this time, but it did not matter. If anything, he quite enjoyed seeing you so lively, so stubborn, and confident. In the life you met him, society had been very different, and you had to give in to the status of your family and what they wanted from you.

Hongjoong had really practiced his patience for you, back then and now. If he could, he would just walk in and shake your soul up a little, reminding it that in a previous life, you loved him too and that the connection between the two of you was surely still there.

He would likely have done it if not for the little witch clinging so closely to you all day. Hongjoong knew exactly what that one wanted from you, and there was no way he would lose you ever again, as unlike that guy, he wanted all of you, and all you had to do for that was to devote your soul to him.

#dash stories #dropped project

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