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bossuary · 28 days

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FIC: The Demon (ao3 link)

Rating: T or G, idk Fandom: Dragon Age: The Veilguard Pairing: Lucanis Dellamorte, Emmrich Volkarin Tags: m/m, pining, age difference, height difference, death, Nice Necromancer, Shit Assassin, romantic inexperience, a touch of hand kink, a smidge of spirit/demon kink?, a bit of intellect diddling, mary kirby is to blame Word Count: 1020 Summary: Lucanis discovers that insomnia in the Lighthouse is not a solo activity. Emmrich doesn't sleep much, either. And he's very interested in...things. Notes: MIGHT KEEP GOING AND MAKE SOME FILTH would that be...of interest to anyone?

***

“Oh dear. People truly call you that?” Emmrich’s voice was tinged with scorn and scandal. “To your face?”

“Some do, yes,” Lucanis said with a nod.

He smiled at the sensitivities of Westerners. In all the pages of his life, all the way back to when he had been Luca, demon was the least of the epithets he had endured.

“Charming,” Emmrich murmured.

The moka pot burbled on the stove. Its tin lid shimmied. They seemed illusions of warmth, meant to comfort mortal senses. Lucanis watched for steam, felt the dreamlike throb of the Lighthouse, and was grateful that it didn’t itch. He poured a short cup for himself, and one for his fellow sleepless companion.

Emmrich thanked him, and took his cup to the table. Lucanis plucked a lidded bowl from the cupboard, and spooned sugar into his coffee. More than he should have, less than he truly wanted, always.

“It’s a colorful appellation for a man of your profession,” Emmrich mused from his seat at the cozy kitchen table. “Tell me, is it…an accurate one?”

Lucanis tensed. Granules of sugar skittered across the counter. This wasn’t the time to work out the semantics of what he was. Not in the small hours, ragged with insomnia. Not in this place between places. Not with the death mage. He dropped the sugar spoon into its bowl and gave Emmrich a smile as brittle as his cup.

“It’s just a word,” Lucanis replied, fighting to keep things light. “It’s no different than assassin. Or necromancer .”

Emmrich nodded as Lucanis spoke, cradling his cup so the steam whispered up along his face.

“Mhm. Or, mage killer, for example,” he said, sipping his coffee around a tease so slight it took a demon to catch it.

Lucanis inhaled and looked away. “Ah. About that…”

Emmrich held up a hand. It would have been a patronizing gesture, had the old man’s smile been less disarming.

“Please. To serve death is to respect it utterly, wouldn’t you agree?” he said, holding Lucanis’ gaze over the rim of his cup. “I could never be afraid of it.”

Or of you.

“Uh. Well said, I think,” Lucanis offered, and lifted his cup in salute.

The placket of Emmrich’s shirt curled open at the throat, Lucanis noted, and the sleeves were rolled neatly to his elbows. He hadn’t just been sleepless, tonight, he had been working. Was there a tattoo above the sculpted forearm, or just a shadow?

Lucanis pushed past it. He savored his coffee. Velvety and dark, with a cherry tang. It anchored him in this unmoored place. Across the room, Emmrich appeared equally soothed. The silence they shared between fragrant sips eventually thinned. Emmrich cleared his throat.

“The word ‘demon’ is derived from daemonium, in Tevene,” he began, and rose from the table as if giving a private lecture.

If only Lucanis had been any kind of scholar.

He sipped his coffee and listened, and caught himself noticing useless things: the engaging rhythm of Emmrich’s accent, stray locks of silver that fell over his forehead, his hands. Mostly, damningly, those hands.

“For centuries, the Alamarri in the Frostbacks used an ideogram to refer to what one might call a demon today. It was a fish hook, rather a clever shape to describe such a complex being, or a complex relationship to one.” He came to stand a few feet from Lucanis at the counter, easing his lean shape against it, holding his cup like a precious artifact. “It looked…not unlike that symbol, there.”

Emmrich gave a subtle nod, his eyes fixed on Lucanis’ belt. Among the other medallions was one etched with a soot-black hook. Reflexively, Lucanis looked down at himself, and heat bloomed in his face.

Made you look.

Emmrich’s interest was so present, his gaze as deft as the finger of a jeweler, that Lucanis half expected to see the medallion move as if lifted by a spell. There was no itch, however. What Lucanis felt was purely the magic of the man’s attention.

An itch by another name. To name it, he would be a straw doll striking a match.

He should have spoken by now. Emmrich, patient as the grave, used one of those elegant fingers to touch the scattered granules of sugar on the counter. Maybe it was the Lighthouse, or some other ancient charm, that freed Lucanis to imagine he could take Emmrich’s finger between his lips and have all the sugar he liked.

A swift pang of loneliness stole his rising heat, though, and stilled his hand as it drifted to the medallion. If Illario were here he would mortify Lucanis with salacious suggestion and vulgarity until misery became another name for family.

But Illario wasn’t there.

“For us, this does not represent demons,” Lucanis said, finally, and grimaced.

Emmrich gave him a confused look.

Bravissimo, Professor Dellamorte, very smart.

Lucanis drained the remaining coffee he would have preferred to sip, pushed his cup away, and nodded to Emmrich.

“Goodnight, Volkarin.”

He retreated to the dark hall beyond the kitchen light, but Emmrich’s voice stopped him.

“I pity the incurious souls of the world, those bereft of a willing heart, for there is such pleasure in knowledge. They won’t know the meaning of a word, or the nature of the creature it describes.” He strode to the edge of the lamplight, hands clasped behind his back, and fixed Lucanis with another arresting look. “A carelessness that too often extends, also, to people.”

Lucanis swallowed. The shadows seemed a meager protection, now.

“Meaning?”

With a smirk and a flick, Emmrich doused the kitchen lamps. Lucanis felt a brief scratch behind his eyes.

“Only that whatever I may be called by others,” said Emmrich, joining Lucanis in the shadows, “I wish you to know that I am not a careless man.”

Lucanis said nothing. He froze as if a great light had spotted him where he shouldn’t be.

“Goodnight, Master Dellamorte,” said Emmrich, warmly. “Sleep well.”

As he watched Emmrich disappear into the guest wing, Lucanis had a single, desolate thought in reply.

Not even when I’m dead.

#bossfic #dragon age: the veilguard #lucanis dellamorte #emmrich volkarin #lucanis x emmrich #lucanis/emmrich

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vangbelsing · 3 months

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Lucanis X Qunari!Rook drabble

Short(ish) little blurb based on this stupid prompt from last night. It's been?? I think an actual decade since I've written anything and I rushed through this in about 2-3 hours after sipping a little bit of the mead I was gifted, so I know the quality is definitely not gonna be great hhgdssfjjjf 😭 I'm soooo sorry in advance for this purely self indulgent piece 🙏

Pairing: Lucanis X Qunari Rook, nonbinary Rook, implied AFAB, SFW but is slightly suggestive

Characters: Lucanis, Emmrich, Rook

The battle hadn't been long, but it certainly felt like a fortnight in the moment, if only because of how off guard they had been caught. One moment, he could hear Emmrich listing the many aspects of death that had caused this place to become such a hotspot for spirits, (he could feel the truth of Emmrichs ramblings in that familiar, unwelcome itching behind his eye) the next, without barely even a sound - as if to drive the point home - undead sprang from all corners imaginable; the air filled with the scent of decay and regret before they could even see the corpses.

It took only the first heartbeat that deaths stink assaulted his nostrils for his hand to shoot toward his blade, quickly barking to his companions that combat was imminent. They wasted no time. Rook swiftly fell to the back of the formation as Lucanis and Emmrich took their places nearest to the undead. Though he wasn't trained for defensive combat or for taking on the bulk of enemy lines like a warrior, he was currently the most martially adept of the group, and so he assumed the role of protecting the mages from any stragglers.

One by one, the shamblers fell, the sickening crunch of steel meeting already decayed meat and bone filling the Crows ears. He'd heard it numerous times before, but it never seemed to be any less foul. Seconds passed, then minutes, as each of them continued on through the sounds of groans and barks at each movement made, the crackling of raw fade being cast at the uncannily lively dead, and the final wails of their foes signaling yet another was slain.

"Only three left." He had thought to himself, quickly accounting for each way he might approach dealing with his opponents.

It barely took a moment for him to close the distance between them as he lunged towards one in a solid, fluid motion. He took the thing first by its arm, twisting it harshly enough to hear bone crack before he spun the creature to face the opposite direction. He then pressed his foot its spine before kicking it forward into the other undeads oncoming attack. It let out a ghastly moan as the blade went directly through its midsection, the monster now going limp. While the other creature worked to remove the corpse from its weapon, Lucanis took the chance to exploit its current state of weakness to relocate to its blind spot. Before it could even react, the Crow had removed its head from its shoulders, watching with only slight satisfaction as it rolled on the ground.

"Down to the last." He noted internally, glancing left and right as he scanned for the remaining undead.

"Lucanis!" He'd heard Rook shout suddenly, their voice panicked, strained and utterly laced with fear.

"Ah. Behind, then." Without so much as casting a glance, he had turned in a blindingly swift motion with such force that his blade immediately found its mark, cutting through a sinewy throat with a dry, unnatural sound.

It fell to the ground with a rotten thud as Lucanis sheathed his weapon. That was all of them. Truly, it wasn't even close to one of his more dangerous encounters, but he would be the first to admit that he certainly hated most battlefield surprises.

"An impressive display, Lucanis," The older mage chimed in suddenly, his breathing only slightly laboured, "you did well in seeing to mine and Rooks safety. Perhaps we ought to consider a change to that sobriquet of yours, hm?"

Lucanis exhaled deeply through his nostrils - the sound dangerously close to a laugh - as he turned to face Emmrich, the ghost of a grin dancing at the edge of his mouth. Before he could even respond, however, a familiar voice pierced his ears in a frantic, breathless tone.

"Lucanis!"

Recognizing that voice as Rooks, he turned to face them, his brow lifting in confusion at the sudden crying of his name. But no sooner than he had opened his mouth to speak did he feel their arms wrap around him; the sensation of their warm body pressing quickly against his, causing a flush to spread up his neck as one hand cradled his head in place against them while the other gripped almost desperately at his back. It would have been enough to give him pause to be embraced in any situation. He was unused to such contact, and certainly so unexpectedly. However, it was the instant realization that his head had been buried in their chest that caused him the most distress.

"Lucanis, don't scare me like that! Do you know how worried I was when you charged off like that? You could have been hurt!" Rook cried out frenetically, the worry in their voice practically seeping out physically from every word spoken.

Perhaps he might have reassured them, or reprimanded them, or anything at all, if he could will himself to focus on something other than the way their voice seemed to vibrate in their chest and against his face, the feeling very near to pleasant. He cursed himself at the way his mind was becoming less and less capable of proper thought as their skin seemed to sear his own; their soft, tender flesh pressing ever so delightfully to his motionless body.

He felt his throat tighten the more aware he became of just how close they were. He could feel their heart pounding; hear it thrumming madly in their ribs. He could feel the tremors climbing up throughout their entire body in their state of near delirium as they kept him flush against their person, their legs practically locking with his. He could only imagine his heart had started beating exponentially quicker as well, though for reasons quite far removed from the qunari that was holding him in a firm yet gentle grip.

"Honestly! Do you need to be so reckless? I can only heal so much! What would have happened if that thing had been faster?" They very nearly started sobbing as their hold on him tightened.

Lucanis gritted his teeth at the increased contact of their breasts against his face. He knew if Rook was paying even the slightest attention that they would feel the way his skin was burning at their touch; how his ribs felt as if they might burst open under the force of his racing heart beat and the pressure of his caged torso brought flush to theirs. They might even have heard it as much as felt it.

"Now now, dear. You'll suffocate the poor boy. Then he won't need to worry about undead anymore, will he?" Emmrich finally seemed to speak up after what seemed like an eternity.

Rook cast a quick glance towards the elder mage, momentarily caught off guard before suddenly seeming to understand. With a gasp, they released Lucanis with a swift and ginger motion, now using their free hands to cover their mouth in what could be interpreted as concern or embarrassment. Or both.

"Lucanis, I-I'm so sorry! I hadn't meant-"

"I-it's fine." He cut them off abruptly, turning away from them as he rubbed at his increasingly sore neck. He hoped they wouldn't notice the blush that travelled from his neck, to his face, to the very tips of his ears.

They took a small step towards him, the expression they wore looking almost guilty. "Really, I am sorry. I just... I was so worried when you rushed off like that, I really just-"

"It's nothing, let's just keep going." He interrupted again, attempting to keep his face from view. He was ready to be anywhere that wasn't under Rooks doe-eyed gaze... Or scrutiny.

"Rook?" Emmrich chimed in once again, "Perhaps you might make sure our fetid guests are as dead as they appear?" He suggested gently to the obviously shaken qunari before throwing Lucanis a very quick look.

"I..." They seemed to hesitate, their eyes darting from the assassin, to the corpses, then to Emmrich.

The necromancer gave a reassuring smile. "I believe he'll manage just fine, dear."

Another few moments passed in silence before Rook nodded in acknowledgement, taking out a small dagger as they made their way to the corpses and leaving the two men to themselves. Lucanis breathed a small sigh, his shoulders slouching slightly as if some weight had been lifted from him. When he heard a faint chuckle fall from the necromancers lips, he whipped his head to the direction of the elder man that seemed more amused than Lucanis thought he had a right to be.

"What." He grumbled. The word was spoken less like a question and more like an accusation.

"I might have confused you for a beet if not for the leather." Emmrich said in a somewhat hushed tone, not even attempting to hide the humor he found in all this.

Lucanis frowned and tugged at his shirt collar, his eyes narrowing only slightly. "A lack of oxygen, nothing more."

Emmrichs grin widened at that, the man turning on his heel as he started a steady stride forward. "Why, my good assassin, I would never think to imply otherwise!"

And with that, he made his way. The Crow stood there for a moment, catching his breath. Both figuratively and literally. He had lived through training that others had been known to break from. His life had been in more danger than he would even care to count. But in all of his life, he could never recall a time where he had been so utterly... Coddled. It was foreign. Unnecessary.

Rook fawned and worried after him far too much, and certainly far more than was warranted. Yet, he could not shake that tightening in his chest when they called out his name when worried. How their hands felt on his skin when they mended the cuts and bruises on his own. They their eyes seem to soften as they looked over his every wound, treating them with the utmost tenderness and care; treating him that way.

It was unnecessary, yes... But it was not wholly unpleasant. He could admit that his heart would skip a beat when they laid their hand on his back to soothe the salves into his flesh. How his breath would hitch if their hand brushed his at the table. How they would dawn that sweet, sweet smile as they apologized if they had made him uncomfortable.

How could they? The very thought was enough to illicit a scoff. No one had ever been so outwardly concerned or so patient. For him. No, they could never make him uncomfortable. Uncertain? Possibly. Embarrassed? Certainly. But never comfortable. Not when they were the only one who knew how to bring him comfort.

But he needed to focus. There was still a job left to be done, and he was never one to leave a job left unfinished. And all that besides, he would still need to calm himself down once they returned to base... Maybe with a cold bath.

And still, even as they pressed on, he doubted he would find himself able to think of much else for some time yet.

#lucanis dellamorte #dragon age rook #lucanis x rook #dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #short fanfic #not proofread #emmrich volkarin #sorry emmrich you have more spoken lines than anyone so i have to tag you #I'll get to you soon peepaw i promise

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purplecatghostposts · 7 months

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I think all the Spell Caster Companions should have like, a mini, petty rivalry over who is the better spell caster, but mostly just to tease each other.

It starts with Gale making an off handed remark about Clerics but when he gets targeted later during a fight and nearly goes down, Shadowheart looms over him like, “What’s wrong, Wizard? Can’t heal yourself with those spells of yours?”

Then a day or so later when the whole group is surrounded by enemies, Gale casts Fireball, taking out the enemies but leaving everyone else unharmed, then shoots a cheeky grin at Shadowheart like, “My apologies, were you going to call down some divine magic just then?”

They’re at it for a while, constantly going back and forth, then one day they’re both tired and ended up spending all their spell slots up early in the day due to some tough fights but Wyll walks up after just having gotten his back and casually is like, “Imagine not getting all your spell slots back after an hour of rest. Couldn’t be me. I guess I’ll have to do the heavy lifting today while you two stick to Cantrips :)” and is promptly added to the ‘Spell Caster v Spell Caster’ war.

And from then on it’s just like:

Gale: Ah, Wyll! Can’t cast Fireball without possibly scorching one of our dear friend’s eyebrows off in the process, eh?

Wyll: I admit I cannot, but at least I can cast Mage Armor without expending a Spell Slot and I have the best Darkvision in the camp, able to see through both magical and non-magical darkness. Can your spells do that?

Or:

Gale: Not many ranged spells, hm? Firebolt is one of your best options, and it’s a Wizard spell.

Shadowheart: You really shouldn’t pick a fight with the one person you depend on to bring you back from the dead and heal your bruises.

Or:

Shadowheart: Out of spell slots again, Wyll? I suppose it’s good you have that little Eldritch Blast Cantrip.

Wyll: You’re just jealous I can speak to Scratch and any other animal my heart desires while you can only watch.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #wyll ravengard #shadowheart #gale dekarios #Is it obvious Warlocks are my favorite class. I just think Eldritch Invocations are so FUN #I just think they deserve to fuck around with each other!#Have some rivalries that aren’t really rivalries because there’s not much heat behind any jabs #Just fun ones because when you’re on a Roadtrip of life and death you gotta entertain each other

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tabitha42 · 3 months

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The Wizard's Apprentice - Chapter 25

Saffron is just a lowly apprentice with barely a successful firebolt to her name. So what chance does she have with the arch mage she's slowly falling in love with?

Gale x Tav, slow burn, eventual smut

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They returned to find only Karlach and Wyll waiting for them. Saff felt a pang of fear that everyone else had ditched the group, and Gale had similar thoughts.

“Where are the others??” she asked quickly as they approached.

“They got bored of waiting so went looting again,” Karlach said with a shrug. “Said they wouldn’t be long.”

Both Saff and Gale breathed a sigh of relief. Karlach and Wyll both shared a brief look, before Karlach spoke again.

“Are you two… alright?” she asked softly. Clearly the tension between them had been obvious to the rest of the group.

“Yeah, we are,” Saff said, looking at Gale with a smile that he happily returned. Karlach grinned as she looked at Wyll, who wore a relieved smile of his own.

The four of them chatted as they wandered the village, looking for the others to tell them it was time to go.

“Sorry about Malitas using Detect Thoughts on you both like that,” Saff said as the subject came up. “I’ve never known him to do that to someone…” “Your master’s a real piece of work,” Karlach commented disapprovingly, referring not only to his use of magic on them, but also how he’d treated Gale.

“I swear he’s not normally like this…” Saff said sadly, looking down as she held her arms.

“What did he say when he wanted to talk to you?” Karlach asked curiously. Saff paused for a moment.

“Just to be careful…” she said quietly, deciding she didn’t want to go into the full detail of what he’d said to her.

They were interrupted as they heard footsteps and familiar voices in a building near them. Their three companions emerged, with Astarion looking particularly happy. “Ah, you’re back!” Astarion said to Saff and Gale, as if the previous argument had never happened. “Finally ready to go?”

“You’re in a good mood,” Wyll said, almost suspiciously.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he said cheerfully as he headed back to where they’d had lunch to get their bags to head off. Wyll turned to Shadowheart and Lae’zel with a questioning look.

“He found the gem he was looking for,” Shadowheart explained.

“What’s it even for?” Wyll asked, but she just shrugged.

“Gods only know.”

The rest of the journey had a few surprising encounters - a run-in with a group of gnolls, a proposition from a devil, but by far most important was meeting a dog named Scratch that they all hoped would follow them back to camp.

They found a spot in the forest to rest for the night. Not by a river this time, but still beautiful, sheltered by a canopy of trees that provided warm dappled sunlight across the ground as they began to set up camp.

As Saff sorted through her pack to prepare the equipment to set up her tent, Karlach approached and knelt down next to her. “Hey, soldier. Wyll and I are planning something, and we need your help,” she said, keeping her voice down, an excited smile on her face.

“Yeah?” she asked curiously, finding Karlach’s contagious excitement seeping into her as well.

“We want to show Gale that he’s definitely wanted here, despite what Astarion and Lae’zel said,” she explained, briefly glancing at the two of them as she mentioned them before looking back at Saff, whose face lit up at the idea.

“Oh that’s so sweet! What were you thinking?” she asked, excited to be involved.

“Well, there’s not really much we can do out here, but we figured we could at least set up his tent for him and cook dinner tonight so he doesn’t have to. Though we know he’ll never let us do that, so that’s where you come in - you distract him and take him away from camp somewhere for a bit, so we can have it all ready by the time you get back.”

“Aw that’s perfect! Ok, give me five minutes to think of something,” she said happily, already starting to play with ideas in her head.

“Great! Make sure you keep him away long enough for us to get everything done,” Karlach said with an excited grin.

“I will,” she said confidently. Karlach gave her a nod and quickly headed back off to her tent before Gale noticed them talking. Saff took a few minutes idly fiddling with her tent equipment as she ran through a few ideas before settling on one. She practised the lines a few times in her head before finally standing up, hoping she could play out her idea believably enough.

She began wandering round near her tent, as if looking for something or trying to hear something. Sure enough, Gale noticed her strange behaviour.

“You alright?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he watched her.

“Do you feel that?” she asked, still looking round.

“Feel what?” He stepped towards her and tried to see what she was feeling, though felt nothing.

“That… magic…” she answered, and as expected, that really got his attention. He paused and tried to sense it, but was left with nothing.

“Are you sure? I don’t feel anything, and I’m sure if there was something magical here, I would,” he said, frowning.

“I’m sure there’s… something… but it feels different…”

She focused her gaze into the forest, acting as if she’d pinpointed where the feeling was coming from.

“That way!” she declared, before running off into the trees.

“Saff! Wait!” Gale called as he ran after, just as she’d hoped he would.

She continued into the forest, making sure to get him far enough away from camp, ignoring his shouts behind her. She wasn’t running in any direction in particular, just wherever the forest took her.

Suddenly she skidded to a halt as she saw a hyena head of her, gnashing and clawing at the exposed roots of a huge old oak tree. Gale stopped next to her too, both of them watching the hyena in silence for a moment, hoping it hadn’t noticed them and they could back away silently… til it suddenly threw its head up and looked at them both. A low growl rumbled in its throat, and it charged.

The two of them hurriedly summoned a firebolt each and threw it at the hyena, one hitting its side and one hitting its head. That didn’t deter it though, and before they could cast another spell it was leaping up towards Saff. She tried to dive out the way but was too slow as it landed on her and sent her crashing to the ground. She screamed and tried to hold her arms out as it bared its teeth to come down with a bite…

Suddenly jolts of electricity ran through it, before it slumped down lifelessly. Gale pushed it off her and quickly knelt by her side. “Saff! Are you ok??” he gasped, helping her sit up. Her heart was pounding and her head spinning slightly from the adrenaline, but she was uninjured, save maybe a few bruises.

“Y-yeah…” she stuttered, breathing deeply as she tried to calm herself down. She cursed herself for bringing them out here like this and putting them both in danger… she really should have thought this through more. Gale held her gently, giving her time to recover and catch her breath.

“And this is why we don’t run unarmed through the forest,” he scolded after a while, though there was a slight hint of a playful tease within his serious tone. “Even if there is some sort of magic. Do you still feel it?”

“I… um…” she murmured, her head still spinning slightly. She tried to get her mind onto where this little charade should go next, but her thoughts were interrupted when she heard a scratching sound from the tree. Gale looked up as well, clearly hearing it too.

“What’s that?” she wondered, getting to her feet and cautiously heading towards the source of the noise. Gale went with her, preparing himself for another fight if needed.

She peered through the tree roots, struggling to see anything in the darkness beneath the tree at first, til she finally saw it.

“An owlbear cub!” she whispered excitedly. “Poor thing, it looks terrified…”

She took some dried meat out of her pocket and knelt down, holding it out for the creature. Carefully the cub began to crawl out of its hiding spot, inching its way towards her, before finally taking the meat from her hand and eating it. She giggled softly as she felt its rough tongue lick up the meat from her fingers. Gale smiled as he watched this play out.

“The hand that feeds is the hand that’s loved. It’ll never leave your side now.”

The cub flinched at his voice, panicking for a moment before scurrying off into the woods.

“Oh… I stand corrected,” he said, watching as it ran away.

“You scared it off!” Saff complained, giving him a slightly annoyed but playful push. “I hope it’ll be ok. I wonder what happened to its mother, it should still be with her at this age…”

“Whatever it was that was able to either kill an owlbear or separate it from its cub, I hope we don’t come across it,” he commented, then looked at Saff. “Do you still feel the magic?”

She paused for a moment, wondering if she should keep up the act, but after the attack she was a bit too tired to keep it going. She just shook her head.

“Curious. I’ve heard stories of forests alerting druids to those in need. Perhaps that is what happened here,” he suggested, glancing towards the spot the cub had been hiding in.

She wished that was the case, but it couldn’t be. She’d just made the whole thing up and stumbled through here by chance. Besides, there were other reasons that couldn’t be it.

“I don’t think so,” she said, shaking her head. “Animals get eaten in the forest all the time, it is part of life. The cub wants to live, but the hyena has to eat. To save the one we had to kill the other… what makes the cub’s life worth more than the hyena’s?”

Gale was quiet for a moment as he contemplated that, and he found he had no rebuttal.

“Perhaps not that, then. Still, something led you here. I wonder what.”

It might have looked to Gale like her silence was due to her being deep in thought about what had happened, but really she just didn’t want to keep up the lie anymore, even though she knew it was for a good cause. She wondered how much longer the others would need… ultimately they hadn’t been out here that long, certainly not long enough to put up a tent.

“We should head back,” Gale decided after a few moments of silence. “We still need to get everything set up.”

“Can we stay out here, just a bit longer?” she asked, sitting down among the roots of the tree. “Setting up the tents can wait a few more minutes.”

He obliged and sat down, looking out into the forest with her.

“Maybe it’ll come back for more food,” she mused, leaning forward on her knees. “Then maybe it’ll stay. We could have a pet owlbear! How cute would that be?”

“Cute until it grows up,” Gale warned. “Then it’ll be all teeth and claws. There’s a reason owlbears aren’t often kept as pets.”

“It wouldn’t attack us if we treat it well. Plus, Halsin would be able to talk to it. Maybe I’ll be able to as well, one day.”

“Have you ever tried casting Speak with Animals?” he asked curiously.

“Many times. Could never get it to work.”

“Well, you could never get healing magic to work before either. Maybe this will follow suit.”

“I hope so,” she said with a smile, leaning back against the tree behind her. “Whatever bought me out here… I’m glad it did. It’s beautiful here.”

“That it is,” he agreed, leaning back with her. “I can see why you like places like this so much.”

“Mmm… til I have to wash, or it gets slightly cold. Then all I want is a warm bath, a hearth and a bed,” she joked.

“Ah, that we can agree on,” he laughed. “But evenings like this, when the breeze gently rustles the leaves as the sunlight casts an orange glow dappled on the grass…” he lifted his hand, gesturing to the scene in front of them as he spoke, then turned to face her, meeting her eyes. “Few sights can match the beauty of this. Though…” he lifted his hand to her face now and gently tucked a lock of her fringe behind her ear. “...Some do.”

A blush spread across her cheeks and she couldn’t help but smile. It was such a cheesy and cliché pick up line, but gods it was working for her. She looked into his eyes as he gently caressed her cheek, feeling herself getting lost in him again. More than anything in that moment she wanted to kiss him, but she knew better than to give into that temptation… and, judging by the look in his eyes, he was feeling the same.

Instead she leant into him and rested her head on his shoulder. He put his arm round her, his hand coming to rest in the curve of her waist, sending shivers of excitement through her as she felt him gently stroking her with his thumb. She curled up to him and gently lay her hand on his, their fingers intertwining. In that moment, in his arms, everything felt perfect.

She closed her eyes, listening to just the gentle rustle of the leaves and the soft sound of his breathing as he rested his head on hers. She felt like she could stay here forever, safe in his embrace, away from all the horrors that plagued them. Tadpoles, mind flayers, cultists… none of it mattered here. All that mattered was the two of them, together like this.

She felt him shift ever so slightly, moving his head a bit, then realised why as she felt the unmistakable touch of his lips pressing against her hair with a kiss. Her already racing heart beat even harder, excited flutters rushing through her. She felt him lift his head from hers and looked up, meeting his eyes. The way he looked at her almost took her breath away, soft, warm, loving… he kept his arm round her and lifted his other hand up to her cheek, gently caressing it. For a moment he looked like he was about to say something, and she wondered if what he wanted to tell her were the same words that threatened to spill from her lips.

Gradually they leant into each other, closing the already tiny gap between them. He was so close, she could feel his breath on her skin. She gently placed her hand on his chest and closed her eyes, feeling the brush of his lips against hers…

Suddenly he pulled away and let go of her, wincing in pain as he clutched at his chest. The marking glowed angrily, flaring against his skin.

“Gale!” she gasped, wanting to try to comfort him and ease the pain, but she knew if she did that she’d likely just make it worse. He squeezed his eyes shut and took deep breaths as he leant back against the tree.

“Aarg… hah… I pushed my luck a bit far there, didn’t I?” he said breathlessly, smiling slightly, trying not to worry her too much. Gradually the pain died down and his breathing steadied. He leant forward on his knees, holding his head.

“Saff, I… I’m sorry…” he murmured, unable to look at her from embarrassment.

“Don’t apologise,” she said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not your fault.”

“Hmm, I’d argue that it is my fault, but I appreciate the sentiment,” he said, looking over at her now. “Even still, I… I’m sorry that I… can’t give you what you want…” he said quietly, looking away again, almost in shame.

“Gale… it’s ok,” she insisted. She paused a moment, as if debating whether or not to say the next thing. “In fact… maybe it’s a good thing.”

He looked over at her in surprise.

“I mean…” she started, looking out to the forest as she took her hand from his shoulder and leant forward on her knees. “I… I have a bad habit of… trusting people too quickly…”

She looked away, sounding embarrassed… or maybe there was something more than just embarrassment. Gale found himself getting nervous about what she might be referring to, what might have happened to her in the past…

“Not that I’m saying I don’t think I can trust you,” she said quickly, looking back at him. “I just mean… I promised myself I wouldn’t do it again… that I’d take my time and properly get to know them first. I mean, I do think I know you well, but it’s only been a few days and I just-”

“Saff,” he interrupted. She’d been rambling, getting into a bit of a panic, worrying about offending him. “It’s ok,” he said softly with a smile, putting his hand on her shoulder, his turn to comfort her now. “I understand. And you’re right. I prefer to take my time with these things too, do everything properly. In fact, I once read about how people put into situations like this often find that constant danger and battles can make certain emotions grow a lot faster than they otherwise would have done… so, with that in mind, I think taking it slow is probably very wise.”

She smiled, glad he understood and agreed.

“Thank you,” she said softly, breathing a sigh of relief. Gale watched her for a moment, still worried in the back of his mind about what had happened to her before.

“And… even if I get this thing cured,” he said, tapping on his chest, “then we can still go as slow as you like.”

She appreciated that, and took his hand as she looked down slightly in silent gratitude. He smiled too, though he couldn’t help but worry about what might have happened to her.

“Saff, if you don’t mind me asking… what happened?” he asked softly, hoping it wasn’t too much of an intrusion. She sighed deeply as she looked into the forest, staying quiet for a moment. “It’s… a long story. A lot of bad decisions on my part. I’ll tell you some other time. Right now, I… I just want to enjoy this,” she said softly, leaning her head on his shoulder again. He put his arm round her, deciding not to pry any more.

“Well, when that time comes, I will be here to listen,” he assured her.

“Thank you,” she said softly as she cuddled up to him.

They stayed like that a while longer, til they finally decided it was time to head back.

They walked hand in hand back to the campsite. She’d run further than she realised, and was glad Gale had a better sense of direction than her. The orange light of evening was turning to sunset now, the first sparkles of the stars starting to become visible at the edge of the horizon. She leant her head on his shoulder and held his arm with her other hand, feeling totally at peace here with him in the serenity of the forest.

When they finally reached the camp again they let go of each other’s hands as they headed in. Saff was glad to see they’d been gone long enough for Karlach and Wyll to set his tent up, and surprised to see they’d set her tent up as well. They’d also started dinner, which was stewing over the fire. Gale looked particularly surprised.

“Did you… set up our tents?” he asked as Karlach and Wyll approached.

“We did indeed,” Wyll explained. “We wanted to let you know you’re welcome here, no matter what might be lurking in your chest. You’re our friend and we’re here for you, come hell or high water.”

Gale looked surprised at first, before that was replaced by a smile. He was clearly touched by Wyll’s words.

“Exactly!” Karlach agreed. “You’re part of the team, despite what some people might say. On that note…” she turned to Astarion and Lae’zel, who both clearly didn’t look happy about whatever was about to come. “These two have something to say to you.”

They glared at Karlach for a moment, then turned to Gale. They shifted awkwardly, looked aside, tried to delay, until Lae’zel finally spoke through gritted teeth.

“We’re… sorry,” she grumbled, as if the word was poison on her tongue.

“You’re a valued member of the group,” Astarion added. Saff had thought he’d sounded insincere before when he spoke, but she now definitely knew what insincere Astarion sounded like. She had to clamp a hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh, as did Shadowheart. Gale certainly knew they didn’t mean what they said, but he was amazed they were even willing to say it at all.

“How much did you have to threaten them to get them to say that?” he asked Karlach, stifling a laugh as well.

“No threats! Just a friendly reminder that we’re all friends and we’re all in this together,” she said to Astarion and Lae’zel, extremely threateningly. Lae’zel scoffed while Astarion folded his arms and pouted. To their surprise though, Karlach’s demeanour softened. “And that applies to you both too, you know. If anything happens to you two, we’ve got your backs.” Lae’zel rolled her eyes, though there was maybe the slightest hint her words meant something to Astarion.

“Now that that’s cleared up,” Karlach continued, “Let’s eat! I’m starving, you guys were gone for ages!”

The others turned to the campfire, also eager to eat, though for a moment Gale stood still and just looked over at Saff with a slightly suspicious look. She looked up at him and couldn’t help but give him a cheeky smile, which confirmed his suspicions.

“I see,” he said, chuckling softly. “Well if you want me to follow you, claiming to sense some sort of weird magic is definitely a good way of doing it.”

“I just know you so well,” she said playfully.

“Evidently. Should I be concerned by how convincing an act it was?”

“Was it actually that convincing?” she asked in surprise. “I never thought I was particularly good at acting.”

“Well you had me convinced. Though maybe it was just wishful thinking. Some sort of strange magical phenomenon in the forest, how could I resist?” he joked, laughing softly. “Does make it even more surprising that we ran into that hyena though, if there was truly nothing leading you there.”

“Just coincidence, I guess,” she said with a shrug. “Anyway, dinner?”

Food was served and the group chatted as they ate. Despite Lae’zel and Astarion’s coldness towards him, Gale was touched by what the others did for him. He felt even better about himself when Shadowheart made an off-hand comment about how his cooking was better than Wyll’s.

It was decided an early night was best for all - they had another long day ahead of them. Wyll said they should be able to get to Waukeen’s Rest if they make good time tomorrow, so an early start would be best. Buoyed by the idea of a proper place to rest and relax, everyone was in good spirits as they headed to bed.

Gale and Saff took a moment to say goodnight to each other, as had become habit by now. Some softly whispered words, a lingering touch, a kiss on her forehead, a shared unspoken wish to share a tent… as she returned alone to her bedroll Saff reminded herself of their decision to take it slow regardless of the orb, and told herself this was for the best. Nonetheless, as she laid down and closed her eyes, she imagined what might have happened earlier by the tree had the orb not stopped them.

#gale #bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav

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ode-to-fury · 8 months

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Pure Gale Fluff

Gale/Tav

Ignore the layout of the tower mentioned here I tried to be as vague as possible but it doesnt make any sense🤷‍♀️. Also wizard magic=science rules right? That makes sense?? Does to me so there you go. I headcanon that Arabella Shadowheart and Astarion stay in Waterdeep for at least a few weeks before moving on to wherever they go next

I’m literally on a roll with these lol

The tower was warm against the chill outside when Gale got back from his errands in the city. It smelled of snow outside, and he smiled, happy to be home, at least before the flakes started falling.

Darkness was falling behind the clouds, and Tav had started a fire while he was gone, though she hadn’t closed the curtains, and soft light still filtered in through the windows, illuminating Tara’s curled up form in front of the fireplace, where she was snoring gently.

Tav herself was asleep on the couch in front of that same fire. She had taken it upon herself to slightly rearrange his library room, to make it more “homey” she said. He’d grumbled about it good naturedly, but in that moment he realised he’d let her rearrange anything she wanted if it meant he could come home to her, asleep in front of a fire like she was just then.

It had been… an adjustment, coming back to his tower. What he had thought would be a refuge against the world had turned out to be filled with less than pleasant memories of the time before their adventure.

Then we’ll make new memories, she’d said. New memories like coming home to her sleeping form after a cold day outside.

Golden brown hair spilled over an armrest, and a heavy leather tome was propped against her knees, arms crossed over her chest.

He walked over to her after depositing his packages, and almost reverantly bent down next to the couch. His fingers tangled in that silky golden hair even as he kissed her cheek softly.

She was awake immediately, he knew, because she was the lightest sleeper in the realms, but she kept her eyes closed stubbornly.

He grinned, and this time he kissed those wonderfull lips of hers. She grinned into it, and when he pulled away, stretched awake, almost catlike in her movements.

“Sorry,” she said quietly. “I was reading this horrible dissertation. Can you believe this man thinks that Melf’s third law of evocation is as he put it “a loosely connected string of words with no real meaning behind them”?”

Gale grinned.

“You don’t agree?”

“The third law is the only one that makes any sense to me, if I’m being completely honest.”

She smiled, her wonderful eyes twinkling with delight. Her hand cupped his cheek, callouses scraping over his beard in the most wonderful way.

“A few weeks ago you didn’t know Melf had any laws,” he murmured, grinning as he kissed her again.

“Well, now I do,” she said matter of factly. “And I’ve formed an opinion, based on my sorcerous expertise.”

“Ah,” he said, “of course. Though many powerful mages would agree that your opinion is wrong.”

Her fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, and she pulled him forward for another kiss.

“I don’t think you know what the word ‘opinion’ means, Gale Dekarios.”

He laughed, and her eyes twinkled in response, and for a moment the breath was knocked out of him. So much so that he had to sit back, away from her.

She frowned, sitting up, all traces of sleep gone from her eyes and demeanor, replaced by a worried frown, a tension that meant she was ready for a fight.

“Gale?” She asked, “What is it?”

What is it?

How could he explain it? How could he explain the feeling of coming home to a tower where a fire was already roaring against the chill outside? How could he explain the sight of his tressym companion curled up asleep without a worry in front of that fire? How could he explain the sight of her, asleep in front of that same fire, the feeling in his chest when he was allowed to kiss her into wakefulness and she did not jump up, scared, because she knew, finally, that she was safe with him? How could he explain the way he had someone to discuss Melf with, after years of just Tara? Someone who would argue back as an equal? How could he ever explain how her laughter felt like a balm to his heart? How could he ever explain exactly what she meant to him? Him, who could normally find words for anything.

“I- uhm,” he grinned slightly, “I don’t know if I could ever verbalise how much it means to have you here. With me.”

Her eyes softened, and she lay her head down on the couch again.

“You’ll find a way, I’m sure,” she said softly, her starlit eyes twinkling.

There was a yawn from the direction of the fireplace, and Tara stretched herself into wakefulness not unlike Tav had done only a few minutes before.

“Ah!” The tressym said, “Mr. Dekarios, thank goodness you’re back! I trust you brought me back some of those wonderful fishes from the market for dinner? I would have gone out earlier to hunt pidgeons, but I’m afraid the fire was much too comfortable.”

He reluctantly broke free of Tav’s soft gaze to turn to his tressym companion.

“Why of course, Tara my dear,” he said, getting up with a groan. His knees really did not agree with the cold.

“Would you like your share now, or would you like to wait while I cook for all three of us?”

“Just the three of us?” Tav asked, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“Yes, unfortunately,” he replied, walking down to the kitchen.

“Astarion and Arabella are still at the Yawning Portal, Arabella said she would keep him company until sundown. Shadowheart was ‘much too busy with Shieldmeet preparations to have dinner tonight’. So, just the three of us.”

He started charming spices and sauces from various shelves as Tara twisted herself between his legs in her age old ritual of welcome.

“I can’t decide,” Tav’s voice drifted down to him from the library. “Whether Astarion or Arabella is the worse influence.”

She appeared in the doorway, somehow managing to look put together with slightly mussed hair and dressed in one of his old sleep shirts.

“Now that is a question, isn’t it?”

She came up and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, her cheek resting against his back, and again he had to take a moment and compose himself.

“Personally I think they both bring out the worst in each other, although at least the vampire treats me with dignity when he is here,” Tara spoke up, hopping up onto the counter in front of him.

“Arabella’s still learning, Tara,” Tav said.

“Hmpf. Well. She’ll learn quickly enough why no one else yanks a tressym’s tail if she ever does it again.”

“So, Tara,” Gale said quickly, aware his companion’s temper could flare sometimes. “Fish now, or fish later?”

“I shall wait, Mr. Dekarios. I have manners. Besides, if I eat now I shall most certainly fall asleep, and then how will the two of you entertain yourselves?”

He could picture Tav’s mischievous smile as she said, “Oh, I can think of a few ways.”

He blushed slightly as she kissed the back of his neck, but thankfully, Tara had turned away to inspect the quality of the fish he had bought.

#bg3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #baldur’s gate 3 #gale bg3 #gale x tav #gale/tav #wildweave

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sundogsandrainbows · 13 days

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STORY SUMMARY: Trust is a delicate flower that needs to get nurtured and time to grow. Even more so love. A tale of two disparate Wardens forced together, of finding a way to overcome the distrust, and their own painful past in the time of the Blight. Very in-depth, character-focused exploration of the Dalish origin/warden, of all DA:O companions, and their relationship dynamics during the Fifth Blight. Follows and expands on canon events; AU in some ways. Multiple POV's, origins, and pairings. Slow burn af.

CHAPTER SUMMARY -- CHASING ECHOES: Back on the road, Zevran has to find his own amusement to liven up the dreadful days of walking toward their new destination. But he gets more excitement than he'd bargained for when some ghosts of the not so distanced past start to appear in front of the Wardens, and a secret is revealed.

CHAPTER EXCERPT:

[...] The Wardens, of course, both stuck together at the front like glue, as they always did these days. Even when not talking they were in sync with their steps, despite the Dalish being more light-footed in the snow than the human stomping through it. Come to think of it, they’d been insufferably inseparable ever since he’d joined their merry band to escape the Crow’s retribution, actually. They were just not aware of such, back then.

That strong bond between both Wardens was all the more apparent since their latest return from Orzammar and their private talk together that night. Ah to have been a fly at the proverbial wall there during it to understand what caused it, but alas. However, the dear Warden hadn’t realized that shift in her attitude toward Alistair yet, nor her feelings. Amusing, that. Unsurprisingly, Lenya also wasn’t at all receptive to his usual attempts of flirting or teasing, which probably was for the best as he already came too close to her flame. No reason to burn just because it was so bloody cold, no?

Alas, this made the dear Warden not less interesting. Ah, to be able to gaze behind her prickly veneer and experience her fierce protectiveness instead of constantly being subjected to it when teasing Alistair would still be so worth it, indeed. He’d expect nothing more of her, always acting on the principle of reciprocation in interpersonal matters. Since there was nothing more loathsome than one person feeling entitled to another’s attention or time just because they shared the same vicinity or group. Progress with the dear Warden was glacial at best anyway, but there , so given enough time maybe – ah here he flew again too close, all too ready to burn, tsk . Zevran shook himself. Perhaps it would be better to fall back a little in their group instead to stare at her – admittedly very lovely and lean-muscular – back. Wearing lighter travel leather instead of her usual, more sturdy Warden armor,

Lenya would only leave Alistair’s side to periodically scout ahead with her mabari in tow. Either looking for impending danger, game to kill or a suitable place to camp the night, such as clearings or crevices of valleys in the hilly areas that started to come into view more often now. Before this it had been flat terrain only, leading along the last vestiges of that enormous mage lake that was curiously not frozen over. Still all in the same monochrome white, the snow as its pesky, sticky blanket. [...]

[CONTINUE READING] ||[READ FROM THE BEGINNING]

#alistair theirin #lenya mahariel #dragon age #mahariel #Of Elves And Humans: Redux #chapter update #meri writes things #although i feel very lonely now doing so #and screaming into a void #since the warden/alistair ao3 tag is deader than dead tbh lol #but whatever #i have a story to tell #i guess #maybe read it if you want idk #Lenyastair #otp: we always had each other #like and/or reblog pls #would be very much appreciated <3

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atlasthegreatest · 6 months

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Friends...? Friends. / Lucy Heartfilia

After a long and exhausting night, Lucy finds herself walking towards her house when an explosion occurs. But when she went to help, she only ended up getting a house destroyed, and a lot fewer coins in her purse. Now, she has a grumpy fairy using her as a home until she rebuilds what she has blown up.

Word count: 4781

A/n: Sorry for the delay. I forgot to post this after I finished editing.

A girl could be seen walking through the streets of Magnolia City while staring at the stars shining in the dark sky.

But you may be asking yourselves: “But what is a girl doing walking down the street at night?” Well, the girl was none other than Lucy Heartfilia. Heiress of the Heartfilia Family, and more importantly, member of the most troublemaker guild in all of Fiore – Fairy Tail.

The celestial mage and her team of friends had just arrived from a four-day long search and when they arrived they were immediately greeted with a welcoming party at the guild. After spending hours eating, drinking, and chatting, the tiredness of the four days of searching finally took hold in Lucy. Although part of her wanted to stay and enjoy the big party her friends threw to celebrate their arrival, there was another part that wanted to go home as quickly as possible and throw herself in her bed, which, without a doubt, I would be comfortable now. So, saying goodbye to the girls – Levy, Mirajane, Cana, and Juvia – who she was talking to in the middle of all that confusion, she headed towards the exit of the guild, leaving behind an Erza readying one of her swords and a Natsu and Gray running to get away from the scarlet girl.

And now here she was, walking along the sidewalk under the light of the streetlights and stars, accompanied by Plue – her celestial companion, who walked in front of her pointing one of his trembling little fingers at the stars, turning to face the bearer of his key in astonishment. Making Lucy laugh. “The sky is very beautiful, isn't it Plue? Ah– I'm so tired! I guess that's to be expected after having opened three portals at the same time, huh? Now I just want to fall into bed and sleep until I can't sleep anymore.” The mage says, stretching her arms upwards. But just as she raised a hand to stop the yawn that escaped her mouth, an explosion occurred, causing her and Plue to be thrown back by the force of the explosion.

The blonde girl took the little being in her arms to protect him from the pieces of concrete that were flying towards them. Breaking the fall with her back, Lucy let out a grunt as she felt the rocks from the road slightly pierce her.

"What the-" The celestial mage exclaimed as she dropped to her knees as a second explosion occurred, causing her to raise an arm to shield her eyes from the flying debris, creating a large cloud of dust that settled across the entire room. area. Plue disappeared in a puff from his companion's arms and returned to the celestial world in fright.

Rising to her feet, Lucy coughed into her closed fist as she tried to find with her eyes where the explosions had come from, when she spotted a figure limping out of the cloud of dust. Ignoring her discomfort from the fall, she quickly got ready to help that person as soon as she saw him weaken to the side.

"Hey! Everything is fine with you?" The blonde mage asked worriedly, arriving just in time to support the person's body by the shoulders before they could fall to the ground. “Please ignore what I just said. That was stupid to ask.” She says correcting herself when she noticed the state of her clothes and how she had open wounds from her face to the rest of her body, noticing that the person really wasn't in a good state. " What happened? What caused the explosion Oh–” Lucy was cut off when the person abruptly pulled away from her as if her touch had burned him.

“I didn’t ask for your help.” The person says shortly, limping away from Lucy, getting further and further away. “I have to get out of here.”

“Oh? Hey-- Hey! Wait!" Lucy says running after the person who looked like he was going to fall at any moment. “You are in no condition to walk! You just came out of the middle of an explosion with multiple wounds and you’re limping!” She says trying to get their attention, but they still seemed to ignore what she was saying and continued limping away from there.

“Hey, don’t ignore me! I’m just trying to help you!” Lucy said, hurrying up her steps and going to touch the person's shoulder to make them stop, when a movement on the other side of the street caught their attention. In a quick movement, Lucy grabbed the tall person's arm and threw herself to the ground to dodge the magic attack that narrowly missed their heads.

When Lucy raised her head to see where that attack came from, she came across a group of six mages and could hear the person beneath her let out an expletive. " Do you know them?" She asked as she observed the group. They also carried wounds on some parts of their bodies. Which made her deduce that they were the ones who caused all that destruction. Discreetly moving her hand to the small bag that was at her waist, the mage waited for their reaction to use one of her keys.

“Did you think you were going to run away from us? After what did you do to our guild?” Says the wizard – who the blonde mage deduced to be the leader – as her hand glowed, indicating that he was ready to use another attack.

“I did nothing more than you deserve.” Says the person as they awkwardly stands up. “Looks like you guys didn’t learn it the first time, huh?” The person says, taking a deep breath as they rests their entire body weight on their left leg and cracks their neck.

Without giving a warning, they extended a hand, causing a circle of dark green magic to appear in their palm, activating their magic.

Lucy could feel the entire asphalt tremble beneath her feet, and she quickly dodged to the side as a section of the asphalt broke free and was thrown towards the six mages, hitting one of them brutally.

“If you want to help, I think now would be a good time to do so.” Says the person in a strained voice as they failed to dodge the attacks that were thrown towards them.

Lucy wasted no time in reaching into the small pouch at her waist and pulling out the first celestial key she touched. Seeing the celestial key she took out, she couldn't stop the shiver from running up her spine. Looking at the river on the other side, Lucy knew what she had to do. “Open the Water Bearer’s Gate! Aquarius!"

“How many times have I told you about summoning me when I'm on a date with my boyfriend, you brat?” Says the celestial spirit with long blue hair that was summoned. “What’s more, in water that isn’t clean at all! What do you think I am?” Says the mermaid, shooting the magician, causing the blonde's body to tense in fear.

“Sorry to interrupt your date, ma’am! But now I need your help with those bad guys!” Lucy pointed towards the battle between the wizards and the strange wizard.

“Tsk. Let this be the last time you interrupt my free time.” Aquarius says with a frown. Picking up her urn, she sucked up the water from the river and launched a tsunami towards where the mages were fighting, not caring who it hit or what. " Get out of my sight"

“Huh?” The strange wizard was confused when the attacks stopped coming towards him and he saw his attackers looking at something behind him. Looking over his shoulder, what little air was in his lungs escaped completely when he saw the large wave of water coming towards them. “What the-” They barely got to speak when the large wave crashed into his body.

“oh.” Lucy stared at the destruction that Aquarius' attack caused without any reaction. The debris the explosions caused seemed nothing compared to the damage the celestial spirit caused. The water not only swallowed the six wizards and the strange wizard, but also destroyed some houses that were nearby. “There was no need to cause so much destruction! Was it necessary to exaggerate so much?” She says, glaring at the mermaid and then scanning the entire area to try to find the strange wizard who was injured.

“I offer my help and this is how you thank me?” Aquarius snorted indignantly. " Tsk. What an ungrateful girl. Don’t count on my help next time, brat.” With that said, she disappeared, leaving destruction and an indignant blonde behind.

Leaving her indignation at the celestial spirit behind, Lucy went after the injured wizard. Arriving close to the wreckage and stepping over the unconscious mages, she found the stranger with his back against a large piece of asphalt, unconscious as well. "Hey. You need to get up. We need to get out of here.” She says while lightly slapping the stranger in the face. Lowering her head, she pressed her ear against their chest, and the next thing she knew, there was still a pulse. Then she brought her hands together and pressed them in the middle of her chest and began to push, without forgetting to make mouth-to-mouth movements. She did that for a good few minutes until the wizard suddenly stood up, coughing out a large amount of water and then falling on his side in a daze.

"That’s it." Lucy says as she runs her hand down their backs. “Let it all out.” But when she heard murmurs, she moved closer so she could hear better.

“–My house… My... house… what did you do with it…” Their eyes rolled back behind their eyelids, fainting again.

Lucy cringed when she realized that this strange wizard's house was in pieces because of her. “Thank you very much, Aquarius.” She says sighing as she bent down to pick the stranger up off the ground and throw one of his arms over her shoulder. “Come on. I'll take care of you.”

------------------

They could feel their body pressed against something cozy.

Frowning, the stranger slowly opened their eyes, finding a fan and a white ceiling. Blinking their eyes to try and get rid of the confusion in their head, they quickly stood up when they realized they were in an unfamiliar place, but grunted slightly when they felt a sharp pain in their head. Raising a hand to their head, they felt the gauze that was wrapped around their head, flinching when one of their fingers accidentally grazed there. Lowering their gaze, they swept their eyes over their entire body, taking note of how half of their body appeared to be bandaged.

Analyzing their whereabouts, they realized that the cozy thing they were lying on was, in fact, a brown couch. Sitting on the edge of the armchair, they threw their feet out and with some difficulty, stood up. Putting their weight on their other leg so as not to hurt their injured leg further, they slowly limped to the window, leaning against it. Taking great care not to make any noise, they tried to look for a way to open that window but the lack of lighting did not make their mission to escape from the then-unknown place easier. But when they finally managed to find the opening, a sudden noise made them stop in their place, making them aware that there was someone else with them in that compartment.

Turning away from the window, they cautiously approached the bed that they surprisingly hadn't noticed before and faced the source of the noise.

Stopping the growl that wanted to escape their mouth when a flash of memory of the event passed through their mind, making them momentarily hold their head as it throbbed in pain. Letting go of their head, they squinted toward the woman who was muttering something in her sleep as he remembered what she had done.

After all… because of her, they no longer had a place to live.

-------------------

The sun was already up and shining brightly in the sky when Lucy woke up from her sleep.

Sitting on the bed, Lucy stretched her arms to try to relieve the tension in her upper limbs while yawning audibly and then threw her feet off the bed while rubbing her eyes, heading to the bathroom, not noticing the lack of the presence of a second person in that room.

Taking her toothbrush and then applying some toothpaste to the end, the blonde began to brush her teeth. As soon as she finished brushing her teeth, she turned on the tap and lowered her head so she could wash her face. Once that was done, Lucy took a towel that was hanging next to the sink and began to dry her face while humming some melody. But it was only when she saw her reflection in the mirror that she dropped the towel to the floor, shocked by what she saw in the mirror. But as soon as her brain processed what she saw, she let out a piercing scream.

Her nose had increased in size overnight! She looked like the wooden dolls they sold at the stall at the end of the street!

“Why do these things always happen to me!?” Lucy whimpered in panic as she leaned closer to the mirror – while trying to be careful not to bump her elongated nose against the mirror – analyzing it.

“Why are you screaming at this time of the morning? I don't know what human customs are like… but in my species, we are used to enjoying silence at the start of the day. Not shouting for nothing.” The sudden voice that echoed through the bathroom scared Lucy even more, who was left looking wherever the voice had come from. “Look at your nose.”

Lucy then did as the voice said and looked down at her own nose, only to find the mysterious person she saved yesterday staring at her with a blank expression. And once again she screamed.

“But–But how? Until yesterday you were normal and now, now you seem to have shrunk!”

“Are you finished yet?” Lucy nodded uncertainly. "Excellent. You were about to burst my eardrums from screaming so much.” The still strange person said in an indifferent tone of voice as they cleaned their ears – which Lucy, now that she noticed better, were pointy. “And this is my normal form. The ‘I’ you saw yesterday was my battle form.”

“And what exactly are you?” Lucy asked curiously, momentarily forgetting that her nose wasn't in its normal state, and that she had someone extremely small standing on it. “And you were the one who turned my nose into that? If so, why?”

“And do you want to know why?” Says the strange being, crossing their arms, frowning. “And yes, it was me.”

"Why?" Lucy asked as she furrowed her eyebrows. “This is very uncomfortable.”

"Oh well. If you hadn’t destroyed my house with the help of that blue fish, we wouldn’t be in this situation.” They say lifting their shoulders, ignoring Lucy's discomfort.

Lucy mentally smacked herself in the forehead as she remembered Aquarius's exaggeration, ignoring the way her body shivered when the words “blue fish” came out of the strange little being's mouth. She was quite sure that Aquarius must be somewhere in the celestial world making a fuss about the way she was called.

"You're right." Lucy says. “How about we make a deal?”

“What will I get in return if I agree to your deal?”

“We both came out ahead in the end.” Lucy starts by explaining. “Assuming my mistakes, I will rebuild your house that was destroyed in the middle of the battle and you will transform my nose back to its natural shape.”

“And how are you going to do that? From what I’ve seen, you don’t seem to have much of a talent for much of anything, other than destroying things.” Says the strange person, turning their back to Lucy and opening a small wooden door in her nose to return to their sleep.

Lucy's face fell with an expressionless face, but then turned into an irritated expression, not believing the audacity of that little being to doubt her abilities. But then she took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves before she lost her temper and strangled them with her fingers. "Whatever. I will quickly find a way to rebuild your house.” She says pointing a finger at herself while staring at the person that occupied her nose. “And you, you’re going to put my nose back in its normal shape.” She says finally, her face contorting into a grimace as she realizes that the strange being is no longer there and that she is left to speak to herself.

“It was just what I needed.”

--------------

“So, Lucy, can you tell us again what happened to make your nose the size of a ruler?”

The blonde mage sighed for what seemed like the thousandth time, rubbing her eyes as she tried to ignore the hysterical laughter coming from the two boys on her other side. They had been like that for a good few minutes since they walked through the door of their house.

“In short…” Lucy says, sighing again, looking at her scarlet-haired friend – Erza Scarlet. “I was on my way home when I heard an explosion, the explosion was caused by a group of six mages who were after someone, I tried to help that someone, but it didn't work out very well, houses were destroyed, and now I have someone living in my nose– Can you two stop laughing like idiots and help me?” Lucy scolded the two boys, causing the pink-haired boy and the dark-haired boy to stop laughing immediately when their eyes met Lucy's sharp gaze.

“ You have to admit it's a little funny. You know… have you ever been told that you look like those wooden dolls that old man sells?” Says the dark-haired boy – Gray Fullbuster, while gesturing with a finger to his nose.

“As funny as it is, Lucy could have gotten herself into big trouble by fighting six wizards alone,” Erza says with a serious face, her tone full of concern.

“It's Luci! She's fought tougher opponents! Those six were something easy to deal with” Says the pink-haired boy – Natsu Dragneel as he busied himself picking up the bowl of potatoes that was on the table and placing it on his lap, taking a dagger of potatoes and filling it in his mouth with them.

Erza took a deep breath, deciding to leave that part behind. “And there’s nothing you can do to get your nose back to normal?” She says as she approaches Lucy to better observe what she sees, causing Gray and Natsu to do the same, causing Lucy to shift uncomfortably in her place due to the way the three of them stare at her nose.

“Can you stop staring at me like that?!” Lucy says, turning her face away from her friend's observing eyes in a failed attempt to hide her nose, which seemed to have grown since the morning. “You are making me feel self-conscious!”

“Can you make less noise? You are interrupting my reading time.”

“Huh?” Natsu muttered in confusion, leaning even closer to Lucy's face to get a better look, when something hit his nose and forced his head back, causing him to fall to the ground. “Ahk!”

As Natsu was on the ground, with his forehead bleeding, Erza and Gray were on alert, readying their magic to attack whoever attacked their friend.

As for Lucy, she just massaged her temples with her hand as she sighed deeply. “I had already talked to you. You can’t attack people just because they bother you.”

“I do whatever I want. You don’t command me.”

“It’s my nose that you’re making a home. So yes, I command you!”

“That has nothing to do with it.”

"Yes it has! It’s a part of my body!”

"Stop being dramatic."

"Me? Dramatic? As if!"

While Lucy argued with the mage, Erza, and Gray got rid of their magic and watched as their blonde friend seemed to be talking to herself, questioning her friend's mental health. Until Erza decided to interrupt. “Who are you talking to, Lucy?”

“With the reason you are here,” Lucy says, stopping the battle of glances between the strange mage and then looking at her scarlet-haired friend.

“And where are they right now?” This time it was Gray who asked. The ravenette looked around every corner of Lucy's house looking for the voice.

Lucy pointed to her nose. "Here. I think I should introduce you to each other. Guys this is–” Lucy turned her gaze to her nose. “You never got to tell me your name.”

“Call me Jun.”

“Guys, this is Jun, the wizard I helped and destroyed the house last night. Jun, these are my friends, Erza, Grey, and I think you've met Natsu." Lucy introduced each one.

Jun, Erza, and Gray exchange nods, acknowledging each other's presence. Jun then looked back at Lucy. " I am a fairy. A nature fairy. Not a mage.”

“But if you're a fairy, why don't you have wings? Isn’t that normal for you to have?” Erza asked curiously. After all, it wasn't normal to see a fairy without her wings.

Jun didn't respond. They just remained silent, and turned to go back into their temporary house.

Lucy, upon noticing the fairy's discomfort, quickly changed the subject. “I called you here so you could help me build a new house for Jun, since I ended up destroying their old house last night.”

Erza and Gray looked at each other. "Please!" Lucy begged holding hands, pouting towards them.

"Sure. Anything to help a friend." “I have nothing to do anyway.”

"Excellent!" Lucy says excitedly. “Thank you so much, guys!” The blonde went to her two friends and pulled them into a hug.

"Ugh…" Natsu woke up, sitting dazedly on the floor while massaging his forehead – which had already formed a bump – with one hand. “What did I miss, guys?” He asked as soon as he saw that his friends were in a group hug.

“Come on. We have something to do, flame brains.” Gray says, taking Natsu by the collar of his shirt, heading towards the apartment's exit door, with Lucy and Erza behind him.

--------------------

A few weeks had passed since then. Jun had already recovered from the injuries they had on their body, and oddly enough, they learned to put up with the presence of Lucy and the rest of her friends (not that they would admit that to her).

With the help of Erza, Natsu, Grey, and a few more members – which Jun had discovered through Lucy were her members from Fairy Tail-- Jun's new home was ready faster than the fairy expected. And fulfilling their part of the agreement, they transformed Lucy's nose back to its normal shape (not before increasing the size even more just to irritate Lucy even more).

The duo was exactly in Lucy's apartment, having “a goodbye pajama party” (Lucy's words, not Jun's) in the company of Erza, Gray, and Natsu.

The group spent the whole afternoon playing various games to pass the time, chatting, and Jun just watched the confusion that Lucy and her friends made whenever one of them cheated in the games.

It was already past midnight, and the apartment that had previously been alive with screams was now calm, with no noise present in the room. (except Natsu's snoring). Everyone was already in their sleeping bags, tired from the long afternoon they had had, except two people who were still awake and were talking quietly so as not to wake up the rest.

“Jun…” Lucy caught the attention of the fairy – who was in their second form – who was sitting on the floor, leaning their back against Lucy's bed. Jun nodded, implying that they were paying attention to what she was going to say. “What was the reason that led you to fight those wizards?”

Jun, upon hearing the question, couldn't help but let out a heavy sigh. They knew it wouldn't be long before someone asked about it. They were a little surprised that Lucy hadn't asked sooner rather than later. “As you know, I am a fairy. And those mages were from a dark guild and they used to hunt my kind.”

“They used to? What happened to make them stop?” Lucy asked again, interrupting Jun, who gave her a slightly cutting look. "Sorry. You can continue.”

"Right," Jun says. “They used to hunt other fairies like me. They wanted to use our magic for their benefit. So, to achieve this, they captured us and tortured us, cutting off our wings and other types of torture that may exist, and then sucked out our essence: our magic. Few managed to escape alive. And of those who did… succumbed to the injuries they had.”

“But you managed to escape,” Lucy says as she stares at Jun with apprehensive eyes, noticing the visible guilt on the fairy's face. It was noticeable to Lucy that the fairy felt guilty about being the only one to have survived. She couldn't imagine being in a situation where she would see her friends being tortured and killed in front of her.

"Almost," Jun says, hugging their knees close to their body. “The damage I suffered was too much. I was chased until I managed to find a place where I could hide and not be caught by them. With the little magic I still had, I slowly healed the wounds I had for four years. Since then I have been alone. But all this time I was perfecting my magic. And when I felt like I was better, I went to the guild and killed every member there. But I didn’t count on the appearance of those other six.”

Lucy got out of her bed, and bending down, pulled Jun into a hug, not caring that the fairy's body tensed at the contact of their bodies. "It's alright. You are no longer alone.”

Jun's eyes stared at Lucy's blonde head in shock. Their body, which had previously been tense from the lack of physical contact after four long years, relaxed under Lucy's touch. Lucy, tightened the hug even more when she felt Jun's body shaking and the fabric of her sleeping blouse getting damp.

"Sorry about that," Jun says, breaking away from the hug, feeling their cheeks heat up when they felt their face wet and hid it from Lucy while trying to wipe away the tears that fell.

“What are you apologizing for?” Lucy asked with a sweet tone of voice, watching the fairy with an amused face when the fairy looked away from her again.

“For crying on you and for getting your blouse wet,” Jun says, still not looking at Lucy. They felt embarrassed that she had seen them cry.

Lucy put a hand to her mouth to contain the smile she wanted to break out. It was cute to see Jun like this. But she quickly hid her smile when Jun glanced at her from the corner of their eye. “It’s normal to cry, Jun. And about the blouse… well, it will eventually dry out.”

The two remained in a small silence between them. Until Lucy broke the silence again. “What do you think about us being friends?”

"Friend?" Jun pointed a finger at their chest. " You want to be my friend?"

“Yup!” Lucy then reached out a hand to Jun. “What do you say? Friends?"

Jun looked at Lucy's hand for a while, and did something they hadn't done in a long time.

With a small smile on their lips, they reached out a hand and wrapped it around Lucy's hand, squeezing. “Friends.”

#fairy tail #lucy heartfilia #natsu dragneel #erza scarlet #fanfic #gray fullbuster #happy fairy tail #gender neutral insert

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trickstarbrave · 4 months

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so. steren in morrowind is a spellsword. he did the mage's guild questline and not the fighter's guild. he is still good with his sword but he does best with a mix of magic and swords. or even magic and spears

but in skyrim so far as i have written him he joins the companions and doesnt seem to use magic as much. maybe its bc i dont actually enjoy magic in skyrim much. but i was thinking it would be fun if like. while he is healing well enough and getting his body used to fighting again. maybe the poison he was being constantly fed in the brothel SEVERELY damaged his magicka and ability to cast spells. he can only do the bare basics in skyrim and its a challenge to use new spells.

i think this keeps up until they go to the college of winterhold to look for the elder scroll. by that point steren has just resigned himself to not being able to cast spells very well anymore and doesn't tell vivienne about it bc he doesnt want to worry vivi when vivi has enough on his plate. and its not like he's going to die because he can't cast anything outside of almost exclusively novice spells.

but i think a professor or someone looks at steren and hears him offhandedly mention he was a part of a mage's guild in morrowind. asks if he wants to join which he declines and says he can't use magic as well as he used to. not since getting poisoned. but take him to colette to heal him thoroughly. it takes quite a while bc the poison+injuries from dagoth ur's magic REALLY destroyed his body's ability to use magicka properly and colette says she's surprised he can cast any spells at all. inevitably this makes vivi worry which is what steren wanted to avoid but she DOES manage to fix him up.

he goes out to the court yard to practice. casts one of his old custom spells at a tree. fucking vaporizes it practically.

tali: ah. hm. well. steren: yes? tali: i see your talk of how strong you were in morrowind wasn't just. talk. steren: did you think it was? tali: .... i'm choosing not to answer this question after seeing what happened to the tree.

#steren #steren nerevarine #i need to write more but. brain no words rn #vivi au #vivienne dragonborn

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llaberration · 4 months

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Coyne's Chronicles: Shadow Over Yfiria - Chapter 6

“Alan?”

“Hm?”

“Do you remember yesterday? When we agreed that you might catch more suspicious individuals if you didn't draw attention to us?”

“Yeah...”

Thenore sighed, once more running an eye over his companion. “That's... not what I meant.” Somehow, the well educated, well raised man who apparently had the intelligence to ace classes consistently throughout their years at the college, did not have the intelligence to know what 'keep a low profile' was. Rather than opting for normal, mid-range clothing like himself that drew the eye of nobody, the college mage had gone from one extreme to another... and was now dressed like a beggar. He had managed to get the scrappiest, most ripped up clothing Trevor had ever seen anywhere. That plan could actually have worked if the other mage were a little rougher around the edges, like himself, with his unshaven look and skinny form. Alan however, was well-blooded, with excellent pale skin, clean, groomed hair, a shaven face and quite a softness from eating too many bilberry pastries after dinner.

“Well what did you mean?” asked Alan, shooting him a look.

“You look like you robbed a beggar and put his clothes on as a fashion statement. Don't get me wrong it goes nicely with your 'stay away from me I'm clearly a dangerous lunatic' demeanour but... you're still scaring everyone off. It's just that now, they're less concerned that you're going to kidnap them and send them to the college, and more concerned that you're going to try and cannibalise them.”

“I suppose that's more your area of expertise?” replied Alan, giving him a pointed look.

Trevor let out a surprised, indignant snort at the speed and wit of this response coming from Alan, but it did take the wind out of his sails for criticisms for now. He flopped back on his barrel with his arms folded over his chest. “Fine. It's an improvement of some kind I guess.”

He felt off today for some reason. Something in his guts felt... wrong. He didn't know if it was his senses telling him there was a distant but present danger, or whether the pie at their inn last night had not been quite as fresh as the landlord had claimed.

“Morning gents.”

Trevor looked up to see one of the guardsmen heading over. “Oh hello Sir Boregar...” he greeted in a monotonous, not terribly interested tone. The wall guards rarely bothered speaking with them, but this one for some reason had taken an interest in the two young college mages. Sir Belfus Boregar was probably only five years older than them, and had little in common with his fellow guards, so perhaps that explained it. He was better-read than most of the normal soldier fare, from blue-blooded breeding apparently, and tended not to fit in particularly well with his peers. Perhaps that was why he had pinned himself to Trevor and Alan, who were equally shunned by the rest of the legion. “Any juicy magic yet today?” he asked.

His voice was thick with a hammy, posh accent. His black hair was slicked back heroically, and a small, clipped moustache graced his high-cheekboned, frustratingly chiselled face. The heavy metal chest plate unnecessarily adorned with muscle-pattern and bright blue cape completed the look, and Trevor felt a little bitterness in the back of his mouth as he wondered how anyone could stand to walk around looking so bloody perfect. “Not today,” said Alan, looking dejected. “Nobody exciting coming through at all really...”

“Hm, wonder why that is!” said Boregar, his stuffy voice hesitating a little as he looked Alan up and down. “I say...” he said, leaning over towards Trevor. “What happened to him? Did he get robbed?”

Trevor let out a little laugh-snort. “No. He's 'keeping a low profile' today.”

“Ah... I... uh... I see...” said the guard, still looking at the other mage, who had turned back to the crowd.

“And how is your day? How's Poffers? Ordered the execution of any more inanimate objects recently?” The commanding officer of this particular area of the wall was an older soldier with a few too many years of experience, at least when they were calculated by bumps to the head. Captain Hortense Pofiddle, also liked his whiskey. Not many days ago he had become so drunk on the legion's supplies that he had gotten into a 'fight' with a barrel and thereafter demanded its execution on the grounds of assaulting an officer. He was the sort of leader the college best liked to work with on the wall, because he basically ignored everything they did as long as it did not directly affect his precious guards. The soldiers were satisfied to work around him too. He was one of those leaders whose men were always happy to follow him, not because they truly believed he was capable, but more out of a sense of curiosity to what he would get up to next.

Even the government liked him, because his attitude to guarding the wall was so overly heavy handed that they knew not a single mouse would manage to get through without him seeing, and having it impaled a dozen times. When he got into his little 'accidents' with whiskey, their answer was normally just to send him more of it in the hope he would continue keeping his region of the wall more secure than a thief's lockbox.

Belfus shot Thenore a manufactured smile through clenched, overly white teeth. “You know we're not... supposed to talk about the barrel incident...”

Trevor gave a second, more satisfied laugh-snort. “My mistake. It must be great fun working in the military,” he said, sarcastically. “All the bullshit you can eat.”

The guard looked offended but only in an 'obligated to do so' manner. “Come now. With the plague getting more powerful all the time, I'd think your college would be grateful to us for keeping trouble away so efficiently.”

“Oh I'm grateful for that,” said Trevor, “Don't get me wrong I'm glad to have the wall keeping us all safe here... like a big pointy angry dad...” his voice trailed off as he looked up at the wall, unease shifting within him again. He hated being this close to it, unable to see half the sky over them... he knew this side was his home but... he did struggle with the reality of urbanisation sometimes.

Belfus watched the druid's eyes tune out, going vacant as his mind went elsewhere, and he shrugged, well used to this by now. All magic users were, in his experience, a bit odd, and these two were no exception to that rule. “He's... not very good at keeping a low profile is he?” he asked, watching a family of traders speed up to pass Alan as fast as they could, dragging their staring child.

“Hm? Wha? Oh. No. Not at all. He's pretty terrible at it, but he's enthusiastic and smarter than he looks so... at least he's got that going for him...” Trevor glanced sharply at the soldier. “But don't you dare say that to him. You two high bloods are bad enough without people going around complimenting you.”

The guard shook his head, “Alan is well bred but he's hardly a high-blood,” he scoffed, until he glanced at Trevor's grin and realised the man was making a mock. He huffed a bit, folding his arms, “Well. He certainly doesn't look like it today.”

Trevor chuckled, “You're not wrong. He looks like he was dragged through a gutter. I think even more people are avoiding him now than when he had the college robes.”

“I can hear you Thenore...” muttered Alan, giving momentarily up on his checking and coming over to look at the man. “Maybe if you got off that barrel and helped me, we might get a bit more done.”

“Well... that's an interesting idea... I could give up my duty guarding this extremely comfortable barrel...” said Trevor, sitting up. “Let me see... is there... anything around here that needs to be hit really hard by a bear?”

“Um... no?” said Alan, looking around.

“How about anything that needs to be chased down by a stallion?”

“No...” sighed the other mage, seeing where this was going.

“How about a misbehaving carrot that requires urgent attention from a rabbit?”

“I see what you're...”

“Anything that needs the keen nose of a bloodhound?”

“Orange.”

“What?” the Druid stumbled on his words at that response.

“Orange.”

Trevor realised the man's strange eyes were focused over his shoulder, “What?” he repeated, turning in place to stare behind him. There was nothing. Normal, boring people milling around. “What are you talking about?”

“Orange...” repeated Alan, his eyes twinkling like he had seen something both amazing, and quite impossible.

“Is he alright?” asked Belfus, frowning a little. “Is... he having some kind of episode?”

“No...” said Trevor, waving a hand in front of Alan, who completely ignored him. “At least I don't think so...” he had never seen Alan do exactly this before. It didn't seem like an entirely good or bad thing, so he gave the man's shoulder an experimental shake. “Alan?”

Alan brushed his hand off with a gentle but insistent movement, and then appeared to start wandering off into the crowd.

Trevor watched him, his dark eyes silently observing as the blonde man made off towards something he either could not see, or could not identify as special.

“Shouldn't we... uh... follow him?” suggested Belfus, cocking his head curiously, causing the chainmail around his neck to clank loudly against the tall collar of his outer armour.

“I... guess?” said Trevor, his senses starting to tingle that something might not be quite right as he watched Alan dodge off into an alleyway not far from the gate. A look of concern began to tug at his face as he hurried across the courtyard after his friend with Belfus clanking along after him.

Alan followed the orange, his complete and full attention on the bright glowing smear in his vision. He had seen almost every colour come from humans or animals before, but orange was completely and entirely new. Not only was this a new colour but it was vivid, shining like a beacon compared to the mute trails of the people around it. So bright he could barely see the individual beneath the colour. He knew this had to be something magical, but it was certainly nothing he had experienced before, and it had just strolled right in through the gate as though nothing was wrong... so it had to at least look human underneath all that.

He jogged a little, working to get closer, his sense of duty for the time being set aside behind a veil of wonder.

Coyne was already well aware of something being off. He had gotten past the guards and through the gate just fine, and dodged himself down the first convenient alleyway he had seen, striding like a local who knew exactly where he was going.

At first, he thought he had gotten away with it, the tense knot of muscles (and dragon) in his belly starting to relax.

A step on the cobble behind him however, made him realise that perhaps something was not exactly as he had thought. 'It could just be someone innocently walking' he reasoned with himself, but a glance over his shoulder caused every muscle he had to clench. “Fez,” he breathed ever so softly. “I think there's a crazy person after us...”

“I saw him... looks like someone dressed a lord in rags...” muttered the dragon. “He looks soft, I'm sure you can out-run him... but don't yet,”

“Why not?”

“We're literally feet from the wall still... if you draw attention you might get an entire legion after you.”

“So what do we do?”

“Get another look at him, let me see.”

Coyne hesitated, but looked over his shoulder, shocked to find the man was a lot closer, speedwalking much more swiftly than he had anticipated. He recoiled, going still as his eyes met the other man's, almost stumbling over his feet as he stared into the black orbs, lit only with a pinpoint of light.

“The eyes of an ancient...” breathed Fez's voice in his ear, sounding genuinely shocked. “Coyne! I want him!”

“What?!”

“I. Want. Him. Draw him into an alleyway.”

“We're IN an alleyway!”

“Find a more alley-like alleyway!”

Coyne, shocked that the man was still dreamily following, his strange eyes almost dazed as they stared at him, did as he was told. He didn't know what was going on... but Fez seemed to have a plan. He found one of the tiny access ways between buildings that was designed only for the most skinny people, as these were normally devoid of all life, and windows.

The man continued following, a fascinated stare on his face as Coyne wound himself around a corner into the dimly lit space.

“Now... let him get near you then put hands on him. Flesh, not cloth. I'm going to pass a spell through you...”

“You're going to what?!”

“Just do it!”

Compelled to obey, Coyne stopped, letting the strange, staring man catch up with him.

Alan got time to breathe the words, “What are you?” his eyes twinkling in wonder before Coyne reached his hands out and placed them one on the man's arm, one on his neck, the two nearest spots he could grab.

Instantly, the mimic's veins seemed to catch on fire as purple light spilled from his hands, crackling and glowing as the magic seized the man, obscuring him in sparkling, purple smoke. He seemed to disappear from beneath Coyne's hands, and the veil of magic faded. “Now grab him quick!” the dragon sounded hoarse from exhaustion.

The order from Fez puzzled Coyne, but as he looked down, he saw what the dragon meant. He had clearly worked the same spell on the strange man as he had put on himself... as he was lying on the cobbles, around three inches tall, and looking stunned. “Grab. Him.”

Coyne complied, snatching the small body up, holding it desperately in his hands as he began to hurry along the remaining length of the access way. He spotted people on a larger road ahead, and not knowing what to do with the tiny man, stuffed him into the carrying pouch in his shirt, clipping it firmly closed as he tried to appear normal and calm, emerging from the access way, smoothing his hair down and continuing away from the wall as fast as he could walk without looking suspicious.

“Good, good...” the dragon's voice seemed weak, and he had once again gone limp with exhaustion. “Keep him safe... I... want... him...”

Puzzled and terrified but trying hard not to show it, Coyne hurried to lose himself in the crowds, steering away from the wall.

Trevor was growing increasingly uneasy, his senses struggling to follow Alan's trail accurately. He lost him for a moment, then picked up the scent down one of the access ways again. Alan smelled clean, unlike a lot of the people here, and that was what made him trackable. “Here...” he said, rushing down the narrow path.

Belfus' armour scraped noisily on the buildings as he followed, but Trevor ignored the guard for now, his attention fully consumed pursuing his friend. A short way down the narrow walkway, he stopped dead, his scruffy hair all but standing on end as he felt the powerful whiff of magic use... strong magic. He looked around them, his sharp eyes searching for any clue as to what had happened. “This isn't wizard magic...” he muttered, as he bent down to examine the ground. “Something older... stronger...” he scowled, straightening up. His friend had met some kind of mishap here... he could tell because there was no more scent of Alan having continued down the path. “Alan?” he called, looking around, hoping his senses were lying to him. There was no magic that could simply make someone disappear, even teleportation magic was all but a myth, there was nowhere the man could have GONE! Frustrated with himself, Trevor snorted, looking up at Belfus, who was looking on with puzzled concern from his position, stuck by the armour in the corner where the alleyway turned. “He's just gone...” muttered Trevor, to update the man who did not share his animal like senses. “He's just gone but he can't just be gone!” he snapped. He let out a growl and dropped onto all fours, smoothly and quickly transitioning into a dog. A mutt of some kind, and began scouring the ground for answers with his vastly improved nose.

The scent of magic still dominated the scene, thick and powerful, it masked most information... he could find one spot where Alan's scent seemed to concentrate itself on the ground, but gained no further information than that. He snorted angrily, looking up at Belfus, who was still trying to un-wedge himself. Smoothly transitioning back into himself, he had to wait until he had a human tongue and teeth again to exclaim. “He's just gone! Something magical has taken him somehow!”

“So... what do we do now?” asked the guard. “He must be somewhere...”

Trevor frowned, “Oh what am I going to tell the college?! That I LOST their magical eye-man? I'll be weaponised and sent to the battlefields...” he shivered, grabbing the guard's shoulder. “We have to find him... now.”

“Alright so... how do we do that? Do you fellows have some way of... tracking each other?”

Trevor stared for a moment before giving the guard's chest plate a celebratory punch, the impact enough to dink the guard un-stuck, “Go on, back the way we came... I know what to do.”

He helped scrape the guard back out of the walkway, and dashed off down the street, the merry clanking sound intensifying as Belfus attempted to keep pace in his heavy set of armour.

Trevor arrived back at their lodgings with perhaps a two minute lead on the guard, already upstairs in their shared room, rummaging around in his belongings by the time Belfus clattered in, his normally perfect hair now out of place and damp with sweat as he leaned on the door frame, panting heavily. “What're...” he began, cut off as his breath ran out after only a single word. “we...” he continued, struggling to maintain full dignity. “Doing?”

“Aha!” Trevor let out a triumphant noise as he found what he had been seeking. He held it up in celebration, and Belfus eyed the trinket.

“Your... Meadowfield seal?”

The seal was basically a pendant cast in bronze, stamped with the rounded sigil of the college, and studded with nine gem stones, each representing one school of magic. “Yes... but more,” said Trevor, with a tone of conspiracy in his words. He brought the thing up to his mouth and using just a hint of magic, he whispered his name to it. Belfus watched with interest as one of the gems slightly to the right began to glow. “It tracks us,” said Trevor, holding up his right hand, on the middle finger of which rested a thick, gold band with an inset green gem. “Our college rings... which we can't take off by the way...” he said, circling his hand around the seal, showing that the glow accurately followed his ring. “Which means... as long as Alan is still alive... and on this continent...” he brought the thing back to his lips and whispered with magic once more, using Alan's proper college name.

There was a slight pause, in which they both stared at the trinket, breath held tight in their chests, slightly more so with Trevor. Then one stone glowed, and they both relaxed. “Right then... we know the way,” said the druid, grabbing his bag and hauling it onto his shoulder. “Let's go...”

“Wait...” said the guard, “I can't just go running off... what about my duties... what about...”

Trevor stared at him, a stare so intense that it froze the muscular man where he stood and caused him to shrink into his collar a little. “Are you telling me you're not going to help? An innocent young mage has been kidnapped on your watch and you're just not going to do anything? What is it with you soldier types... you always talk about rescue and adventure and yet when it swims up with a little bow on its head and bites you in the arse you just panic and hide in your little wall!”

“Well... I need to sign off... we need supplies...” the guard continued, his voice a little more timid now. “I need to at least tell Captain Pofiddle something...”

“Fine,” said Trevor, “I need to figure out what kind of magic that was anyway. And I suppose we don't want Poffers sending his legion out after you. I'll send a communication to the college to tell them we're...” he paused, twirling his fingers in the air. “Following a lead on a magical... something... and you tell your lot the same thing.”

“I can't lie to...”

“It's not lying. There was magic, we're following it. That's all they need to know,” said Trevor, feeling oddly alive to know that he was a) leaving the wall, and b) going to do something more than sit and broodily stare at passers by.

“Are you sure about...” Belfus was silenced as another hard stare was directed at him, and he turned around with a clatter.

“And leave the bloody armour at home!” snapped Trevor. “It's about as stealthy as a horse with buckets stuck on its feet.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

<<First || Previous || Masterlist || Next>> And so we reunite with the meadowfield mages in order to begin thoroughly ruining their day! Hanging out with a dragon sure does attract trouble.

#safe vore #soft vore #extreme cuddling #nonfatal vore #sfw vore

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slavicafire · 1 year

Note

Dear Żmija, I have just finished Inquisition that my dear friend that got me into DA is very fond of, and I just couldn’t explain to her why… it just doesn’t right with me. I loved Trespasser and ESPECIALLY the Solas romance but making Inquisitor a Mary Sue and overall focusing on her role in Thedas too much (as well as Corypheus being the villain… bleh) just felt like such a waste. What are your thoughts on the game? Because I remember you calling it „catholic”. (i’ll welcome a rant. Also hope you are well!)

ah. I have cast them away but alas, here come all my dragon age brain worms, happily returning to the fold like dozens upon dozens of prodigal sons.

quick foreword: i always play as humans, and i always play as warriors - I have played dai as a mage just once. so, in theory, I should be the one type of player the game caters to the most, lore-wise. alas.

inquisition is absolutely the weakest link in the da games - and it takes, for the lack of a more polite word, a giant shit on the lore and atmosphere set up by origins and expanded/played with by II.

and don't get me wrong, the first two games blundered and made a lot of mistakes, contained a lot of inconsistencies, contradicted their own set up plenty of times - but the expectation was (very much so) that inquisition would not only avoid fucking up in the same way but also! would fix some of those mistakes. add both proper gravitas to the story of the world - and allow for the return of the fascinating, genre-appropriate - again, for the lack of a more polite word - whimsy. it was supposed to be more comprehensive, more complex, more creative. heavy, again, yet funny. meaningful.

instead, inquisition made sure to make everyone bland, rather catholic and centrist in their convictions and beliefs - which, in a setting so fueled by the absolute injustice enacted on entire subgroups of people, simply means it made most characters bland conservatives, on the in-universe axis regarding chantry, mages, circles, elves, slavery, dwarves, the qun, and basically anything else you can think of. even characters who are supposed to be Hardcore Believers in whatever it is their convictions are end up being kind of undecided or confused about it all - see sera (love her as i might) or cassandra (no comment), or even bull when talking about the qun (which we are supposed to approach from a more liberal perspective now, diminishing its actual depth). don't even get me started on cullen, wannabe war criminal creep, who had a chance to become something interesting at the end of da II and then instead got wattpadded into the game as your trusty sidekick to prank instead of, you know, asking about how fucked up places starting with k get when he's there.

and then the game doesn't allow you to actually take a stance yourself - it just lets you choose the tone of expressing the one or two stances picked for you. you can't actually play as a meaningful character with proper agency - you must play as someone whose goal is to uphold the andrastian approach (not even faith, but approach), enjoy being the head of a giant religious militia, subdue mages at least partially, yield to accepting the apparent non-issue the grey warden order becomes, and then also give even less of a shit about elves and slavery than the previous games did.

I believe the only way to actually play the inquisitor without megatons of meta roleplaying in your head is to be kind of an evil cunt - and I don't mean choosing the asshole options in dialogue and missions, I simply mean accepting the fact that no matter what you do or what you say, you can't do or say anything all that meaningful. or good. nothing revolutionary, for sure.

the companions and advisors won't mind too much either way, after all.

#well that IS a rant. sorry #thank you for asking I could write for days about this #I won't... but I could #all this bile within me oft demands to be witnessed #dai

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ellekhen · 4 months

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Hand, Hearth, and Home

Chapter 46 - The Voice in Your Ear

Chapter Summary: Church joins in on the Harpers’ ambush of the Absolutist convoy in hopes of retrieving their moonlantern. Much to the alarm of his companions, the warlock faces the unexpectedly brutal consequences of returning to the shadows.

Pairing(s): Astarion x Male Tav (Main); Past OC x Male Tav Rating: Explicit Length: 229K+ words; Chapters 46/70

Except Below:

Wyll watches in amazement as the drider stumbles in his step, faltering at the sight of the tiefling before him.

This is more than fey charm, he realizes.

More than even their illithid authority.

“What is it, Majesty?” the drider mutters fearfully to himself. “This heretic… no… an imposter! Feeding the lesser god’s shadows! No — no! My Queen, please—!”

“Queen?”

The tiefling tilts his head, advancing towards the terrified drider. He leaves a trail of black smoke in his wake, puffing into the air as he speaks.

“I answer to no queen. No god.”

The drider slips upon the rocks, collapsing backwards with a pathetic wail. And then, with yet another burst of inky mist, Church reappears just in front of the cowering drider — yanking his torso down and gripping his inky-black hands around his captive’s pale, anguished face.

“N-no! No!” the drider howls, his head shaking and eyes blinking frantically, asynchronously, between the warlock’s hands. “We cannot! We won’t feed the shadows! Majesty! Hear us! No! NO—!”

“She can’t hear you,” Church taunts him, smoke spitting from between his smiling lips. “And you’ll never hear her again.”

The tiefling takes his shadow-swathed hand and considers it curiously. It’s a bizarre contrast to the harried skirmish going on in the background with the two remaining cultists.

“See?” Church says softly. Mockingly. “She forsakes you. Just as Lolth had forsaken you.”

“Ah, Church—?” Wyll asks tentatively, half-heartedly reaching out as if he could somehow stop this.

Stop him.

But all he can do is gawk in shock as the tiefling slowly drives his blackened, taloned fingers into five of the screaming drider’s eyes. And with whatever unspeakable spell Church has cast, shadows begin to overflow from within him, spilling from the drider’s orifices and splitting open his thorax.

“Hells!” Wyll gasps, his mage hand fizzling out of existence as it deposits the moonlantern near a few Harpers. His eyes are fixed instead upon the confrontation before him.

The unfortunate drider’s eight legs spasm frantically beneath him, tripping one of the half-orcs backwards just before Branthos drives his sword down to finish him off. Wyll watches in horror as the wretched soul writhes and gurgles in agony for far too long.

This… this is wrong. This isn’t like Church. He wouldn’t…

…would he?

Wyll focuses upon his parasite, wincing at the storm of anguished, half-formed thoughts bleeding from the drider’s fractured mind. Among them, he barely makes out his companions’ own tadpoles, and even fainter still is the suggestion of Church’s somewhere buried beneath the din.

“That’s enough, Church!” Wyll beseeches him. “Just end this!”

He doesn’t know if his friend hears him. With the rest of the convoy finally dispatched, all he hears are the Harpers’ curious murmurs and the drider’s final, gurgling plea.

“Ma…jesty… pl…ease…!”

He shudders with a last death rattle before his legs curl up completely beneath him.

And then the drider is finally, mercifully still at last.

Wyll stares at the other warlock, aghast.

“Good gods,” Astarion drawls, astonished yet clearly impressed. “Well that was… certainly something.”

“Church!” Wyll calls sharply to their friend, hurrying over to pull the tiefling off of the dead drider. The cursed drow’s heavy, monstrous body collapses unceremoniously to the ground. “It’s over. We’re done here!”

“You just always have to spoil the fun,” Astarion grumbles as the tiefling’s eyes clear at last.

“...oh,” Church utters, disoriented as he stares back at the other warlock’s worried face. “…Wyll?”

He looks down at his hands in disgust. “What… in the hells?”

— and then his eyes slide over to the corpse of the drider before him.

Start from the beginning!

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galeslovesickcleric24 · 5 months

Text

How to Save a Life - Part II

Read on AO3!:

Rest of the Fic:

| Part I |

A/N: Sorry for the long wait on new content! Life and writer's block has gotten in the way. Have something brand new! Please enjoy!

Words: 2,230

Part II: A Blade's Sting

Chapter Summary: Following the collecting of allies, our heroes finally begin shacking up for the night. A gith has joined their team in recent hours, providing a potential solution to their squirming enemy. Journeying forward to the solution, the group find themselves trying to make between tiefling and druid.

Amongst the conflict, tensions are on the rise between our band of unlikely heroes. Can the cleric keep everyone satisfied and away from each others’ throats?

“Gale, I don’t suppose you have a mage hand to spare? I need helping holding up my tent,” Rosemary asks, desperately trying to prevent the fabric from falling on her.

The wizard chuckles, conjuring a blue fist and sending it to the elf, “That should do it.”

“Thank you!” She beams, hammering the supports into the ground to allow her spot in camp to stand tall and proud.

In the recent hours, four have become five. Lae’zel, the gith that helped to save both Rosemary and Shadowheart’s lives, was found enclosed in a cage by some rather hostile tieflings. The gang managed to free her, much to her not-so-pleasant surprise, but not without a fight.

In the present, the unusual group of companions have found themselves a particularly large clearing, setting up their places of rest; somewhere they can unburden themselves of carrying their awfully heavy packs.

Camp is finished and fully set up just as night falls, complete with a roaring fire and companions to share it all with. Gale is found at a large cooking pot, a recipe book floating in front of him; its aura a beautiful shade of purple as its pages turn by themselves: “Rosemary, have you got the ingredients you picked up in the ruins?”

“Yes!” The elf grins, running over with her pack, “We have..cheese, spiced and dried meat and…some carafes of wine. Oh- and some milk,” as she lists them off, she hands them to Gale. “We also picked up some cups! We can split a bottle or two between us, can’t we?”

“You don’t have to ask me twice, darling,” Astarion beams, strutting over and grabbing two bottle of the small abundance of wine from the cleric’s pack, hands reaching back in to grab a couple of glasses.

“You could thank me, you know.”

With a groan and a roll of his eyes, the elf utters a begrudging “Thank you, Rosemary. I appreciate it.”

“You’re very welcome,” the cleric smiles, turning back to the wizard, “Can I help you at all, Gale? Do you need me to cut anything up?”

“I’ll be alright, thank you.” The mage returns with a smile, “I’ll give everyone a shout when dinner’s ready.”

Rosemary returns a smile of her own, cheeks reddening at the sight of the corners of his mouth upturned; brown irises alight with joy as he stands stirring the pot. Her heart picks up in pace, allowing her to feel its rhythm against her ribcage as she tucks herself back into her tent. The cleric unpacks her non-magical medical equipment and puts it carefully in one corner, setting her stuffed animal by the pillows and the craft supplies she managed to pick up in another area.

Before too long, the companions are gathered to share the meal in front of them, wine flowing and cups refilling as they empty.

Between bites of their shared meal; Gale pipes up, turning to the elven cleric: “Rosemary, I noticed the symbol on your little satchel. It’s that of Mystra, is it not?” His comment makes her shoulders suddenly shrug in surprise, eyes widening in shock as she gulps down her current mouthful. “Yes, it is. I am one of Her many clerics. My mother and I are very devoted to our Lady.” A blush burns her cheeks, gaze averting to the bowl in her hands, “I am very thankful for the gifts She has kindly bestowed upon me.”

“Ah,” the mage smiles, “I’m sure She appreciates such devotion. The Weavemother does like Her a worthy Weave wielder.”

“She does!” A smile toys at the corners of the elf’s lips, though her eyes still cloud with uncertainty, “Absolutely She does.”

More stories are exchanged and laughter choruses all throughout the night, right up until everyone’s tucked up in their tents; awaiting a blissful sleep to envelop them.

Everyone’s up with the sun the next morning, yawns echoing and bones cracking as they stretch. Packs are filled, swords are sharpened and paths are marked on their maps before they head out of the camp. Shadowheart decides to stay behind to protect the tents while the others venture out exploring and hunting, in search of both Lae’zel’s creche and a healer.

Astarion, Gale and Lae’zel follow Rosemary as she holds the map, circling round the same few clearings as the quartet try to make sense of their surroundings.

“Rosemary,” the elf begins, “Where are we going?”

“Uh…This way!” The cleric points in front of them, “No- apologies- this way,” she gestures to the left of them and then back to the right, “This…way?”

“Chk. Trust the cleric with the map,” the gith rolls her eyes, “Does anyone else know how to undergo such a simple task? Such as reading a map?”

“Give it here,” Astarion demands, snatching the map from the cleric, “We need to turn around. And continue straight.”

Rosemary frowns, deflating slightly, “Sorry. Usually dad does the map reading. I was just trying to be helpful.”

“A valiant effort, friend,” Gale reassures, offering the cleric a smile, “You meant well.” All she can do is nod, gaze at her feet as they continue on the road ahead.

As the party presses forward, they come to quite the commotion; tieflings standing atop a fortification as they shout down to a gaggle of humans. The tieflings stand their ground on keeping the humans at bay as they beg to be let in, tensions continue to build between the two groups.

As their feud comes to a boil, the gate finally begins to rumble open; the outlanders preparing to charge inside before a horde of goblins come up behind them, raining down a fire of arrows on and in the tieflings above. The party watches in horror as two of the arrows plunge themselves into the tiefling controlling the gate’s mechanism, Rosemary reaching for her sword. The humans try to hold the wall of stone up long enough to escape, but to no avail. The trio prepare their weapons and brace for the impending battle.

One of the gods-damned creatures loads their bow and prepares to loose another arrow before they’re taken down by a green flash that appears to come straight from the sky, like some form of divine intervention.

“Damnable roach!” A voice thunders as a man clad in a red and black tunic skips the wall and thuds his feet down onto the rocks below, charging towards the front of the small army; “Provoke the blade,” his rapier bats away the goblin’s club and plunges its way into the creature’s chest. As the blade nestles itself further into the poor thing, the hero swings it to the side, pulling the weapon out of its body and letting its corpse fall to the ground. He presents his bloodied rapier with pride, standing as if he’s posing for a portrait. “And suffer its sting.”

“Who in the Nine Hells is that?” Rosemary catches her bottom lip between her teeth, a blush gracing her cheeks.

“Now is not the time to ogle. We’ll be next if we do not act now,” Gale warns.

“Right. Yes,” the cleric shakes herself back into focus as she unsheathes her sword. Everyone follows in toe, Astartion drawing his daggers; Gale grabbing and spinning his staff in his palms into a battle stance. Lae’zel follows Rosemary’s lead, bracing her sword ready for impact.

The army of goblins rally a battle cry and continue to rush forward, arrows and spells flying about here, there and everywhere. Swords clash, blood sprays and spills and cries of pain; a cacophony of fight effort and spell incantations fill the air. The tieflings and the humans alike hold their own against the goblins well, corpses beginning to decorate the ground surrounding them.

Rosemary lets her friends take the brunt of the combat as she waits in the wings, slots ready to heal and sword prepared to take the plunge into anything that gets too close.

Gale sends a multitude of magical missiles and bolts of fire in all directions while Lae’zel’s greatsword proves no match for the goblin army, blade ripping through their flesh effortlessly and blood painting itself onto her weapon and the plates of her armour.

Astarion hangs close to the cleric, jabbing his daggers at anyone that enters his mere vicinity. He gets a few stabs in before Rosemary banishes them with her Guiding Bolts, using any spare spells she has to keep her allies' health topped up.

As the remaining foes begin to join their fallen comrades, an elder tiefling comes to stand atop the gate, beckoning all that remain standing: “That was the last of them,” he announces, “Inside - all of you. More may follow. Open the gate!”

The gate rises once more, this time opening fully; allowing everyone to rush inside. The companions scramble to follow, the gate thundering down after them. The quartet take a moment to catch their breath, Rosemary passing out potions and casting healing words to close any open wounds.

“Does anyone need anything else? Water? Something to nibble? I’ve got some bread in my satchel,” Rosemary offers, sealing a gash in Gale’s shoulder and sewing the hole in his robes closed.

“We’re alright, friend. Thank you for the patch-up.” The mage smiles.

“Chk. Do you always happen to have a needle and thread to hand?” Lae’zel queries, though the cleric can’t tell if she’s impressed or disgusted.

“Always,” the elf repeats, “You never know when you’ll need it. I always keep a little sewing kit on my person.”

“I knew she’d be useful. A cleric and a seamstress. Who knew?” Astarion grins.

It’s not too long before another feud sparks, once again between human and tiefling; capturing the party’s intrigue. As they press on to investigate, the horned-one scolds the other, brows knit and furrowed with rage as his opponent squares up to him. The human breathlessly tries to defend himself before the tiefling cuts him right back off, ripping into him like a vampire’s fangs on the neck of its prey.

“And you let them take the druid, too. Unbelievable!”

“We’ve just finished one fight,” Rosemary sighs, “And now you’re picking another? Can we all just relax?”

“Tell that to the dead at the gate,” despair fills the elder one’s voice, facial features relaxing ever-so slightly.

“Shut it, horns. I’d be laying dead next to the goblins if you’d stalled any longer,” the other spits.

“My duty is to this camp.”

“God forbid you risk your precious tail. But I shouldn’t be surprised. Foulbloods ain’t known for courage.”

The tiefling’s jaw clenches along with his fist at his side, features going rigid once again. He rolls his head side to side, preparing to throw a punch. Before he can get the chance, Rosemary indulges herself with a blow of her own, her knuckles hitting the man without horns square in the jaw. The force is enough to leave him to lay on the ground, unmoving.

“Can’t stand assholes like him. Sorry, for the violence.” “That’s..that, I suppose.” The tiefling sighs, “Thank you for your help out there. I’m Zevlor.”

“I’m Rosemary! These are my friends; Gale, Astarion and Lae’zel.” The cleric gestures to each of them respectively. They each regard the elder gentlemen with respect. At least Gale and Astarion do. Lae’zel just rolls her eyes.

“Well met. I should warn you - visitors are no longer welcome in this grove. Whatever your business is, I’d see to it quickly - the druids are forcing everyone out. This attack will only strengthen their resolve.”

“Wh-. Why are they forcing you out? Surely it’s more dangerous for you all out there than it is in here.”

“There have been several attacks by different monsters,” he begins, “The druids blame us ‘outsiders’ for drawing them here. Nobody’s welcome here anymore.”

“We won’t be staying long. At least, I don’t think so. We’re just in search of a healer, that’s all.”

“Goblin got you?” Zelvor’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, concern painting his face, “The druid, Halsin, is a renowned healer, but he didn’t make it back from Aradin’s expedition. If it isn’t too serious, you could try his apprentice, Nettie. She’s with the other druids, in the inner grove. They’ve started a ritual to cut the grove off from the world outside. We can’t stay, but we’ll be slaughtered if we leave - we’re no fighters.”

“Can you not stop this ritual?” Rosemary asks, “Or can you and the druids come to an agreement?”

“I’ve tried,” the tiefling admits, “Kahga - their new First Druid - won’t even see me. You, though,” He turns to the elf, hopefulness making an appearance in his irises, “I know it isn’t your business, but she owes you for saving this place. Perhaps you could persuade her. For more time to prepare, if nothing else.”

“I’m sure me and my allies can see what we can do.” Rosemary beams. Her enthusiasm cause Astarion rolls his eyes and Lae’zel to utter a disapproving chk.

“We’d owe you a great debt. If we’re forced to leave now, we won’t make it to the city.”

“We won’t let that happen.”

The cleric’s heroism allows Zevlor to smile, lips stretched over his pointed teeth, “You’ll find the druids at the heart of the grove. Please - make them see sense, before more lives are lost.”

“I shall do my very best.”

#story #storytelling #bg3 tav #my tav #tav #bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #bg3 #bg3 wyll #wyll ravengard #wyll #baldurs gate wyll

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kaigarax · 2 years

Text

Autumn

Mystogan (Edolas Jellal) x Reader

Quote: “Fall in love by allowing yourself to get hurt.”

Ah, Autumn. Such a beautiful season.

But Mystogan has personally never liked the season all that much. He much prefers the rainy weather of spring over the windy weather of autumn.

Spring has always symbolized growth and new beginnings. Autumn, on the other hand, represents the oncoming end. The harvest of everything that you have already worked towards. The brief celebrations that fill your heart with so much emotion before running away with your heart. The beginning of a cold and barren season that is yet to come.

You have always liked autumn.

Mystogan wonders if you will still hold the same fondness for it after now.

---

There are many secrets that Mystogan keeps. From his family, from his guildmates and from himself.

There is not much truth shared between Mystogan and his estranged father. They live opposing lives with opposing ideals. A distance too vast between them that none dare to cross. An honest, loving and emotional connection between the two of them is best described as a pipe dream. Something one can only conjure up in the strangest of times.

As someone not from this world, Mystogan works hard to keep his identity under wraps. In truth, he has no identity here. Here he is but a figment from another world; a lost soul; a wanderer. Here he is none.

It's rare when he allows his guildmates to see him and even rarer for him to speak with them. So how can there be anything but secrets between them? They are unfamiliar with his name, his personality and his reasons for why he lives the way he does.

It is a lonely life but Mystogan has tried his best to continue pushing onwards.

He tries his best to stay determined despite the loneliness that burdens his heart and that growing empty feeling in his chest. He tries his best to stay strong and diligent but of course like everyone else in this world, he is but a human.

Humans are made to be imperfect.

Born to blunder and made to fail. Crafted knowing they will not be there forever and still left to their own devices. Humans create, love and hope. They destroy, hate and despair. Creatures made with such contradiction.

They are born perfectly imperfect, yet it is what most strive to be. It is what Mystogan strived to be. He may have even succeeded in his mission if not for the Master’s insistence for Mystogan to take a companion alongside him on his adventures and journeys.

His first option had been Laxus. The ever aggressive and temperamental Lighting mage.

There wasn’t much wrong with Laxus, but there wasn’t much to like about him either. He was argumentative and suspicious. Someone like Laxus would end up causing Mystogan too much headache and trouble. He was definitely a no go.

The second option had been Erza. The strong willed and kind hearted Requip mage.

From the get go Erza would have never been an option for Mystogan. After learning of her history with his Earth Land counterpart Mystogan was certain that he would never be able to work alongside her without some of his secrets getting revealed. There was too much shared history between the two of them. Too much unknown in a situation where trust is needed.

Aside from the strange history, Mystogan didn’t think that he would mesh well with Erza’s blunt and confrontational attitude. It was no bash against her. In fact, it was a trait that was found in all of Fairytail’s prominent members. It was like a badge of honor that they showed off to the world. Mytogan preferred a subtle approach and didn’t want the headache of having to follow someone who jumped in before looking.

Then, there was you.

(Y/n) (L/n), the S-class mage with ‘normal’ magic.

Well, there was no such thing as normal magic, but the magic you used could be considered the easiest to learn. It was a good beginner's magic that people often learned when wanting to learn better magic control. Mystogan wasn’t too sure how exactly you used your magic but knew it must have been something you were good with. Afterall, you wouldn’t have become an S-class mage if you weren’t skilled.

You were soft spoken and very go with the flow. One of Fairytail’s more passive members. You didn’t partake in many arguments and allowed insults to bounce off you.

Still, you were too much of a loose cannon.

Your actions were unpredictable when bored and Mystogan would always be left guessing what you would do next. It was always a question of if you would take control of the situation or sit back and watch the chaos as it happens in front of you. Your fighting style was smart but there was always something that left Mystogan on edge around you.

Still, you would have to do it.

Mystogan was one hundred percent certain that he would not work with Erza and didn’t exactly want to deal with Laxus’s attitude all the time.

For the most part, you didn’t bother Mystogan much. You didn’t inquire much on his personal life and kept the focus on the missions that the two of you took together. As a plus side, Mystogan really only had to take you with him when the Master deemed the difficulty of the mission too hard for a single person.

Mystogan had intended to keep the relationship between the two of you professional but had blundered horribly. Blundered, stumbled and fell.

---

Knocking at your door in the middle of the night was never something Mystogan had thought he would be doing. He had attempted to teleport himself to Porlyusica’s small abode but had ended up in the middle of Magnolia instead. Not wanting his guildmates to see him, Mystogan went to the only place he knew.

Your home.

You wouldn’t push him far if you thought he was feeling uncomfortable and you would patch him up. Your medical skills weren’t on the same level as Porlyusica’s but you knew enough to make sure that he wouldn’t die.

Your hair was tousled when you came to the door, rubbing sleep out of your eyes.

Mystogan could barely make out your words as his vision went black and he fell to the floor.

---

If someone were to ask Mystogan what happened directly after the incident he wouldn’t have been certain what to say. There was much about that night that had happened that he wasn’t all too aware of.

If someone were to ask him now what happened he really only had three words.

First he blundered on his mission.

Then he stumbled into your home.

And lastly, he fell.

---

When Mystogan awoke, the sun had been streaming in through an open window. Mystogan’s mask had been taken off and his items were propped up the corner of the room. The bed beneath him was soft and helped to dull the aching pain in his side.

Mystogan let out a groan as he attempted to sit up.

You were quick to rush to his side, gently placing a hand on his chest as you tried to ease him back down. “Don’t try to do too much too soon. Just lay down for a while.”

Mystogan felt a flush begin to creep up on him as he looked at the concern on your face.

“Do you know who I am?” Asked Mystogan.

“Pardon?”

“Know that you’ve seen me with my mask off, do you know who I am?”

You scratched the back of your neck, “you’re Mystogan… right?”

A wave of relief washed over Mystogan, “that is a name I happen to go by.”

You watched him for a moment, as if trying to see beneath his skin before finally turning away. “So do you want something to eat?”

“I don’t-” the rumbling of Mystogan’s stomach cut him off.

“I’ll make you something simple.” was your reply.

Mystogan’s voice was quiet as he said, “thanks.”

“It’s no problem.”

---

The secrets between Mystogan, his father and his guildmates are far too vast to count, but there has only been a single one that Mystogan has intentionally kept from himself. And that secret has had to deal with you.

Perhaps it was more of a denial than a secret.

---

“Do you like autumn?” Mystogan asked.

You turned away from the window, flashing Mystogan a heartstopping smile, “of course!”

Mystogan had been so taken back but the look on your face that it took him a moment to recollect his bearings. He cleared his throat, “why?”

“Because,” you answered, “it’s beautiful. Bright reds, oranges and yellow fill the earth and sky with colour you don’t see in any other season. A pale blue sky shining over you accompanied with bright and warm colours just fills me with a sense of longing, you know?”

Mystoagn shrugged, “not really.”

“I suppose different emotions are evoked by different things.” you leaned back, “so what makes you feel melancholic, Mystogan?”

“I guess returning home from a mission.”

“How so?”

“I feel as though I return from every mission a different person from who I was when I left. Slowly but surely, this world changes me. With each harsh obstacle I’ve been forced to overcome there has also been a part of me that has needed to adapt and change.” Mystogan continued, “so when it's finally time to go back, I realize just how much of me has changed from who I was when I first began this journey.”

You looked back through the window, “huh.”

Mystogan flushed, “what’s so ‘huh’ worthy?”

“I guess different emotions really are evoked by different things.” you answered.

You got a soft look in your eyes.

“Apart from the superficial beauty of the season, why do you like autumn?” Asked Mystogan.

“Well,” you smiled, “because it reminds me of you.”

“How?”

“It's the season in which we partook our first mission together.”

“Was it?”

“Of course.”

---

Now, as you stood before him, fading from Edolas' world, Mystogan felt a pang in his chest.

Leaves of orange, red and yellow swirled around you.

Autumn was truly such a pretty season. It matched you. Filled with so much hope, determination and warmth.

Mystogan doesn't think he will ever be able to look at autumn the same now. Not after spending such heartbreaking ones with you.

“Don’t you think the sky is beautiful?” You asked.

“It’s pale.” replied Mystogan.

“Pale and beautiful aren’t sonomanous, you know.”

Mystogan reflected back your warm smile, “I think it’s melancholic.”

You took a step towards him, brushing a strand of hair back. You looked at him with so much warmth that Mystogan felt as though it was being transferred from your eyes to his cheeks. Your hand was soft and your touch gentle as it lingered over Mystogan’s face.

“Make sure to take care of yourself, okay.” you smiled sadly, “make sure you don’t overwork yourself and to take breaks when you need them. Be nicer to the people you care for and show them that you care. Never let yourself be taken advantage of but know when to be nice. And especially, don’t be afraid to ask for help.”

Mystogan scoffed, “make sure that you ask for help when you need it.”

“You know, I really enjoyed our time together. You were a great partner to have. You always seemed to know exactly what I needed.” you laughed, “hopefully I’ll find another partner who knows what I need without having to ask for it”

“(Y/n).”

“Alright, I’ll try my best to ask for help when I need it.”

Mystogan’s eyes softened.

You were quickly fading away from. Slowly becoming less and less visible. The usual silence fell between the two of you. Mystogan had never really cared for silence or conversation but suddenly felt himself well up with annoyance.

He suddenly hated how everything up till now had played out. There were so many times where Mystogan wished he had done something different. There were still so many more things he wanted to do with you.

Oh how he hated autumn.

Finally, when Mystogan couldn’t take said, “I love you.”

You placed a hand on either side of his face, “open your heart up to loving someone else, too.”

Oh how he hated the end of a journey.

From here on out he would work to change the world. He didn’t want this world to change him anymore. Such a beautiful and wonderful time he had had with you. Moments he wanted to live in forever. But of course, no matter how hard we wish for it, life moves on.

Whether we plant our feet and refuse to move or fall backwards and die life pushes onwards. It is up to us to continue moving onwards if we want to live as well.

If Mystogan, Jellal, ever had a chance of doing it all over again he would have chosen to have started loving you sooner. Even if you had never loved him back he would have loved you regardless. He loved you regardless.

The air glittered around where you had been as the warmth of your hands left.

Fall in love by allowing yourself to get hurt.

#fairy tail #fairy tail x reader #mystogan x reader #100 ways to fall in love

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