#am i being haunted by the living memory of a pale elf? maybe so

[invinciblerodent]

.... can the undead also be considered necromancers. this is very important to me right now.

because the Ingellvar background says that Rook was found and raised by necromancers, but I think I'm more entertained by the idea of my Mourn Watch Rook Marcus having been literally raised by the undead.

in Soviet Nevarra, the dead raise you.

(also it tracks, he'd be a dude who is horribly awkward not because he's autistic, but because his mommy is a mummy, and this is the longest conversation he's had with a living person in years.)

(i mean he is also most likely autistic, but that's not why he's awkward.)

[tokoyamisstuff]

Meant To Be - Loki x Fem! Reader

Summary: Much to your displeasure, your parents have promised you away to the God of Mischief of all people.

Tags: Arranged Marriage AU, Light Elf! Reader

Warnings: Aside from Loki hating himself, nothing.

Words: 2878

I Masterlist I

A/N: Some good old-fashioned, ‘redeemed after The Avengers and the other movies didn’t happen’ Loki. Like, really cheesy, self-indulgent 2012 stuff. I just want to ignore all misery that happens in the series okay?

“Ew! Stop it!”

You were eight at the time when you and Loki first met, by means of negotiation between both your parents.

If only you knew that this encounter should be the first impression of what should be your husband in the near future...

Frigga and Odin could only plead for their son to be on his best behavior - but well, it’s the God of Mischief we’re talking about. Must be hard to inherit such a title from your very birth.

Just when you put the little bonquet of flowers he had picked up for you towards your face to admire it, several little spiders emerged from the blossoms.

“You’re no fun.” The raven-haired boy stood a safe distance away from you, arms crossed as his gleeful laughter turned into a broad sulk. "And your ears are weird.”

“I hate you!” you screeched in your childish rage, throwing the flowers to the ground and trampling onto them. “Where’s your brother? Thor is way nicer than you!”

“Well, why don’t you marry him then?!” he mocked to cover up his hurt pride, picking up a handful of dirt and throwing it in your direction. 

“I don’t need any friends anyway...” the little boy whispered to himself, running away from the scene with tears filling the corner of his eyes. 

“I don’t need anyone. I’m way better than all of them!”

Not even Frigga was fast enough to catch up with him, while Odin uttered some fake apologies to your parents, promising them that everything will go as planned.

You on the other hand were running towards your mother, tightly grabbing onto her dress. “He’s mean! I wanna go home!”

As Queen of the Light Elves, your mother was a being full of grace and composure - and you were hoping to one day become such a formidable person as well.

She bowed down to your height, petting your hair as you rubbed the mixture of tears and dirt from your cheeks. Just her bright smile alone would sometimes be enough to make you forget about your worries - but not today.

“My sweet child” she cooed, cradling you in her arms. “One day you’ll understand.”

However, this would be the last time you paid Asgard a visit - at least until now. Because no matter how deeply you wished to never meet him again, the words your mother spoke on that day haunted you all those years:

“For this is your duty as a princess.”

[Present Day - Asgard]

It felt so unreal when you stuck your head outside of the wooden carriage, the wind playing with your hair as your glare wandered over the rainbow bridge you were crossing.

Silence strained the air, your parents unable to do even so much as look into your eyes. Hel, how you wished this was only a dream.

Behind you was a whole company of Light Elves, transporting all of your belongings to what should be your homecountry from now on.

Now there was no way back, that much was sure.

You were supposed to meet your soon-to-be husband on that very same day, one day before your wedding to be precize.

One could only guess why you weren’t allowed to visit Asgard again for all those years, even though you were practically born just for this reason - for this person.

To become Loki’s bride was your involuntary purpose, and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be truly free.

Maybe your parents thought the God of Mischief to have a bad influence on their growing daughter, pulling you into his harmless yet dishonorable schemes. Or they simply feared you to refuse marrying said man if you got to know him better, finding out just what kind of person you were promised to.

Not that your parents were pleased either...everyone in the Nine Realms knew the stories.

To Odin, there was no point in hiding the disgrace his adoptive son had brought over Asgard. Not only was he responsible for an attack on Midgard, sacrificing thousands of lives for his own sake, drunken by greed for power.

But all of you were shocked to hear that Loki Odinson - or rather Laufeyson - was never Asgardian to begin with.

A Frost Giant.

Among your kind, they were known to be one of the most terrible abominations in the nine realms, and murderer of countless of your kind - and this should be the father to your future children?

Only thinking about this cruel twist of fate made you want to vomit...

So why did you agree to proceed with the preparations as if nothing had happened? How in Alfheim’s name could you reject their offer to wed you to Thor instead of that lunatic?

Was it that through your upbringing and royal duties, you had lost your own free will? Or simply fear of stepping aside the path that everyone had prepared for you?

It was probably the fact that you didn’t want to get into true love’s way...you and Thor stayed in brief contact through Heimdall, and you just knew how much that human girl meant to him.

You were kinda jealous, though...the concept of being in love was foreign to you, having a vague idea of it from novels only. But real life just wasn’t meant to be that was, was it?

You couldn’t escape your fate, that was what it was - for this treaty would unite both kingdoms, bringing peace and wealth for all of their inhabitants.

No way you could be so selfish as to decline...even if it meant you had to suffer for the rest of your life.

“My Ladyship, we have arrived!” a guard spoke as he knocked on the carriage door, with your parents hinting that you needed to step out first.

The very same guard now yelled from the pit of his lungs, making you feel the whole Kingdom of Asgard could hear. “Now arriving: Lady Y/N Y/L/N, eldest Princess of Alfheim and heir to the throne.”

You heared the people whispering as you took your first, insecure steps, blinded by the bright daylight.

“She’s so pale, like ice” or “Why are her ears like that?” were rather nice comments compared to others plainly calling you ugly, scary or a ‘disgrace’.

Of course your Kingdoms had been in a war for several decades, but this was long in the past - before your very birth, even. So what’s the reason you should bear with such hostility in the place everyone expected you to call ‘home’ from now on?

One thing was clear from the very beginning: You would never belong here.

“May I?” a dark, husky voice interrupted your self-pitying. You blinked heavily, still trying to adjust to all those golden surroundings, until your blurry vision finally cleared up.

“C’mon.” The voice belonged to the man in front of you, looking gravely nervous with sweat dripping from his forehead. He was reaching out a hand for you to take, and you gladly accepted since you didn’t want to embarass yourself further by falling out of the carriage.

And still, you managed to somehow miss a step and fall right into his arms. “Oh my, so clumsy” the man snickered as he catched you, clearing his throat as you grabbed onto his chest to regain balance. "Not very graceful for someone of your status.”

“And you are-” The words got stuck in your throat when you stared back into those eyes, their emerald green awaking memories you’d rather forgotten entirely. “L-Loki!”

“Exactly, my dear. The one and only.” Smooth and calm, he  pecked a kiss on the back of your hand, andyou couldn’t help but admire just how well he had aged: His wild locks were combed back, sharp features complimenting his face as he tried his best to give you his most innocent smile.

Yet you kept your guard up, always expecting him to somehow embarass you just for the fun of it. “When it comes to him, always expect the unexpected” Thor once warned you, and you won’t forget about it that easily.

“It’s a pleasure finally meeting you” was your firm declaration, only to be rewarded with a scoff. “You are speaking to the God of Lies, Lady Y/N - there is no use in trying to deceive me” he whispered into your ear, making you shiver in unpleasant anticipation.

“Carry her belongings to my rooms” he dismissed the servants with a simple gesture of his hand, offering his other arm for you to cling on as he escorted you through the palace.

The giant halls were almost empty, nothing like back on Alfheim where you and your brethren would enjoy each other’s company in midst of nature. A sole tear escaped your eye when you thought back to those carefree days, which are now over.

“Are you alright, m’lady?” Much to your surprise, your fiancé sounded honestly concerned about your well-being. “If you are tired, we can postpone our tour of the palace until you’ve rested.”

 “May I speak from the heart?” You gulped after finishing that sentence, scaring yourself with all the stories you’ve heared about this mad troublemaker.

Somehow you had the feeling that if you were to overstep your boundaries with that brute, it would have consequences beyond your imagination. He might seem generous and polite right this moment, but what would someone like him do if you enrage him? Countless images were circling in your head, one worse than the other.

Loki furrowed his brows, exhalinge deeply. For him, your expression was an open book to what you were thinking right now.

“Y/N, my dear Lady, if you want it or not: Starting tomorrow, we share a bond. I am deeply sorry that a veritable flower as you are had to end up with someone like me, but I promise to treat you as well as possible.”

Turning around so you’d not detect how it hurt him to speak from the heart, he added with a shaky voice “Yet there is no reason for you to hold back your hatred for me. No harm will come your way, I swear upon the little honor I have left.”

Even though his words made you feel a deep sympathy with the god, you weren’t quite sure if you could decipher truth or deceit in them. Maybe he just wanted to lure you into saying what you truly thought of him?

He’s right - you will have to spend the rest of your life with him, so don’t mess this up from the very start!

“I-I don’t hate you!” was the first thing you blurted out, grabbing onto his cloak. Loki turned around, rising his eyebrow as he scanned your face for any hint of a lie.

Althrough it was the truth, at least to a certain extend. You’ve seen each other only once, when you were still little. The rest is all tales and rumours, but you personally don’t have a reason to despise him.

There was no way you could promise to accept his past or heritage, let alone forgive him - yet as long as he’d treat you with respect, you’d return the favour.

“T-There’s just a question on my mind this whole time...aren’t you mad? I-I mean someone like- well...like you...” you gestured around awkardly, almost making him crack a smile. “I mean...I thought you wouldn’t let your parents dictate your life.”

Another deep sigh escaping his mouth, this times with his eyes closed. “This isn’t about Asgard or my adoptive parents. I choose my own path.”

Suddenly, Loki wrapped one arm around you, flicking his fingers with the free one.

“Hold onto me” he ordered indifferent as he casted his spell, teleporting both of you away before you could even comprehend, let alone ask him what he was doing.

It happened in the fraction of a second, yet felt like hovering through an empty space for an eternity.

“Now open your eyes.” You hadn’t even realized that you squeezed them shut during the shift, slowly opening them while Loki lifted your chin with his index finger.

The environment was magnificent. Had you ever seen something this beautiful in your whole life?

Obviously you had no clue where you were, but this was the first time seeing so much untouched nature on Asgard. There were flowers blooming in all colours imagineable, clear rivers crossing the lands in between grassy hills, and animals nearby a small forrest.

“It’s not like I didn’t educate myself about the Light Elves and their way of living” Loki stammered, unconsciously intertwining your fingers with yours as he watched you admiring the view. “So I could make you comfortable here, I mean.”

He plummeted down on the grass, still a little wet from the morning dew, and gestured for you to do the same. It was weird, actually, but also somehow adorable - how the infamous ‘Silver Tongue’ had lost his ability with words. “I’ve done very little right in my life full of wrongs. Hurt a lot of people.”

“Mmmhh” you hummed approvingly, not knowing what else to say - yet for some reason, you didn’t let go off of his hand, squeezing it ever so slightly.

“And even though I can’t possibly redeem myself, I wish to change for the better.” he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. “I just never knew how to start.”

Loki Odinson really was full of surprises. He was nothing like the child you’ve met long ago, and the complete opposite of what you imagined the ‘God of Mischief’ to be.

You had expected a power-hungry, selfish and cruel man to wed you - and yet there he was: Insecure and broken, only a shell of the person he once was.

Just what had you missed all those years? What things happened to break someone’s will like this?

And was he truly beyond repair?

“Those past weeks, I have visited Alfheim more times than you could comprehend” he giggled nervously, avoiding your eyes. “Concealed, of course.”

Well, that sounded kind of weird, but you knew better than to talk someone down who was just opening up to you. So your sole answer was “What for?”

“There was no way a criminal like me would still be seemed fit for this ceremony - and yet I was given this chance anyway. My mother told me that it was you who insisted on carrying on the arrangement, so...I just wanted to know what person would be willingly ruin their life.”

Something different was shining through the god’s orbs, and you couldn’t quite decipher it. Was it hope? Hope, that if you had given him a chance, his life could lead into a different direction? To change himself from the burden that was his birth title?

“I-I guess I don’t want to mess this up like I always do” he whimpered barely audible, before staring at you in shock and embarassment. Until now, he hadn’t realized just how vulnerable he made himself.

Just what the hell would you think about him now? You probably had lost any respect, or thought himself to be crazy. How weak...

So he was quick to put on the confident facade again, wearing his smug grin as if that all was just part of a big joke only he’d understand. But even though you barely knew him, he couldn’t fool you.

“Sometimes it’s enough just to try.” Your head turned from the sight of nature to your fiancé and back several times, before you brought up the courage and put a hand on his shoulder, whispering “So you can’t really mess this up.”

“Gladly you don’t seem to know yet just how much misery I cause.” He kept that thought to himself, to not scare you away.

“I am aware that you could never love someone like me, Y/N. But I can provide for you, dedicate myself to making you content with being my wife. My newfound purpose.”

The purpose of a war criminal - that sure put yourself under a lot of pressure. And still, it made you somewhat proud, and grateful as well. Because it was the first time someone valued you as a person, and not the princess of Alfheim.

Unaware of how much time had passed, both of you would get used to each other’s presence in silence, enjoying the nature while you processed this eventful day.

Exhausted from the long travel and all that rollercoaster of emotion, you soon found yourself dazzling into sleep onto Loki’s shoulder. If only you could see him adore you, staring in awe that someone could actually feel so safe in his presence.

Carefully, the god picked you up, gently lifting you on his arms to make your way back to the palace, where everyone was frantically searching for both of you. Well, Loki was used to trouble -  but right now, it was worth it.

May it be right or wrong, and even though you couldn’t explain this sentiment, you had a good feeling when it came to the things that were just about to come.

“You won’t regret your decision, Y/N Y/L/N. On my side, I assure you a bright future.”

[emerald-amidst-gold]

OC Interview: Fane Lavellan

Thank you for the tag @dungeons-and-dragon-age! I’ve been eyeing up this meme for a while actually, so this was perfect timing! X3

This takes place Post-Trespasser, about a month or two after, in fact. Solas brought the idea forward, and of course, Fane refused. But after some coaxing, some explanation as to why, and the promise of a whole cake, Fane agreed to humor the request. 

*THERE BE BIG THINGS REGARDING FANE HERE* 

I got carried awaaaaaay! XD

Introduction

Can you introduce yourself?

“I can, but it’s a lengthy list,” He sighs, “...Those who are close to me, who see as but an elf, call me Fane. Those who wish to meet cobble, call me Lavellan or Herald. Those who are blinded by reverence call me ‘He Who Flew Above’. Denizens of the Fade refer to me as, ‘Devotion’ or ‘Tenacity’. However, my true name is..” He sighs again, “...Aterian. I rarely go by it, but the truth won’t be ignored. It never can be.”

What is your gender identity, orientation and relationship status?

“Male. Elvhen. Dragon.” He huffs through his nose, shifting his gaze off to the side, “That’s all I’ll say on that. As for orientation, I’m...emotionally driven. If you asked me to look at another and tell you what’s attractive about them I would say, ‘Nothing.’ I don’t know them, so I feel nothing for them.“ He shrugs, turning his gaze back, but brandishes a glare, “There’s only one person who defies that response, and that’s because he knows me, without and within. More than that, is none of your business.”

Where and when were you born?

He lifts a hand, massaging a temple, “The ‘where’ is simple; Elvhenan. Specifics are lost to me, however, so you’ll have to be content with that response.” He shifts his gaze downwards, slowly crossing his arms, “As to when?” He sighs heavily, “...I have no answer for that other than: I’m roughly the same age, if not older, as Solas. Does it matter, honestly? Numbers fall through the cracks after a specific threshold is crossed.” What is your weapon of choice and fighting style?

He unravels a crossed arm and guides his hand downwards, tapping the pommel of a sword he has fastened to his waist, “Sword. I use either long swords, short swords, or great swords.” He raises an eyebrow as a question is forwarded, “Shields?” He sneers a bit. “I don’t use shields. They get in the way, and anyways,” He raises his hand once more, the expanse steadily beginning to glow blue and silver before a spectral coating of scales cover the entirety, “this is better than any shield. I prefer the front lines, the place I can make sure no one breaches, and the lingering memory of what I once was makes sure I can do just that.” He dispels the scales and shakes out his hand before returning it to his crossed counterpart, “It takes energy to maintain, but I’m getting better at holding it for longer.”  Lastly, are you happy?

He blinks before his entire expression softens, two toned eyes shining with primary gold as they shift downwards, “...If you had asked that of me over twelve years ago I would have spat in your face and said, ‘Happiness doesn’t exist in this world’. But now..” He trails off, casting a sidelong glance towards one of the fortress’s entryways; a familiar voice sounding, firm, but soft, as if reprimanding a child, “...I understand what happiness is, and it’s in every corner if you allow yourself to see it.” His eyes shift back, holding a far away look and voice coming forward in a murmur, “I only wish we all could be happy; together.”

Family and Friends

What’s your family like? What is your relationship with them?

His face holds a conflicted look, as if the memory is painful before speaking, “Complicated,” he says before beginning to tap a finger against his bicep, “I had a mother. She died when I was fifteen from a wasting disease, but she was the picture of serenity. Calm, guiding, measured. Hair like moonlight. Eyes like a clear autumn day. She was--” Unbranded features twist with a look of grief, eyes going dark as his voice drops, “...I’d rather not speak of her. It still hurts to. It hurts to speak of any of them,” His eyes narrow, grief stricken expression turning somewhat bitter, “...Especially those who throw all you did for them back into your face because they refused to listen when you needed them to most. Even so, I still wish for her happiness. Cullen better be treating her right,” That bitter turns outright malicious, dark eyes going darker as another question is meekly asked, “Father? I have no father. I only had a monster that haunted my childhood, tore my token of devotion apart, and then stalked me in my dreams. So, no. I have nothing to say about that concept.”

Have you ever ran away from home?

He chuckles, “Many, many times,” He throws most of his weight into one side, tilting his head back as if thinking, counting, “I can’t even remember the amount of times I fled into the forests, to be honest. All I know is that it happened weekly, maybe even daily,” He brings his head back, snowy hair moving with the action to brush the tops of his cheekbones, “Why do you look so surprised?” he asks, snorting a bit at the meek response of, ‘Why so often?’, “Because I refused to endure being treated like a beast every hour of the day merely because I believed differently, or rather, not at all.” He sighs within the next moment, “...I wasn’t any better than the Dalish, though. I lashed out, I spat in their face, dragged their heritage through the dirt, inflicted harm from the smallest of things...” He squeezes his arms, eyes narrowing into a glare, but seeming to see through everything, “...The past repeats. An infernal spiral that will never slow.” Would you consider marriage or having children?

“Marriage? Children?” He blinks, pale visage suddenly going flush before he snarls, “Why do I need to answer those questions?!” The blush deepens and he responds despite his displeased expression, muttering and biting the inside of his cheek, “...Damned keen eyed elves. They know, don’t they? I swear if Abelas fucking ran that mouth of his, I’ll--” He sighs heavily, letting his head fall limp a bit in defeat, “...Yes. To both. The latter is already taken care of, as everyone situated in the Crossroads knows, but...” Pointed ears are now a deep shade of red, “...marriage is...on hold. War time isn’t an ideal summer wedding.” His voice drops, eyes shimmering as if he was before the person his heart yearned for, “...The sky deserves a venue better than a garden of death and deceit.” Do you secretly hate one of your friends?

“There were those in the Inquisition who I didn’t exactly see eye to eye with,” he started before shaking his head, “but I didn’t hate anyone. Everyone is entitled to their own views and what they find important.” He scowls a bit, tapping his bicep once again with a finger, “...Even if they didn’t extend the same kindness to me in the beginning. ‘Do you believe in the Maker?’ ‘Do you believe you’re chosen?’ ‘You need to use the people’s faith. It gives them hope.’” He mocks before snorting harshly, “No. No, I don’t. Oh, that suddenly makes me trash? Ohhh. How terrible.” He scoffs. “Disgusting.” Which friend knows everything about you?

“Solas,” He says within a heart beat before clearing his throat, shifting his gaze away sheepishly, “He knows me without and within.” Emerald and gold blaze as the orbs go wide, the blush of roses coming back in full force, “Wait, wait, wait! I didn’t mean--! Fuck! You better wipe that shit eating grin off your face, elf, or I swear I’ll do it for you!” He growls in frustation, throwing his hands in the air, “Why did I agree to this? What fucking dragon entertains an interview!? This is worst than the courts in Arlathan used to be! And that’s saying something!”

Asked by Fans

Are you literate? Have you been to school?

”I am literate. Sometimes to a fault, in fact,” He smiles a bit, “Poetry is my niche; a lingering memory of my mother. So, I speak cryptically at times,” He snorts, amused, “Although, I guess that isn’t much of a surprise since the Elvhen language is riddled in verse rather than practical application. Still, even some of the ancients left have a hard time deciphering my words,” He shrugs, smile turning into a smirk, “They never expected a dragon to be able to talk, I guess. Well, ta-dah.”  The eeriest prediction you made that later came true?

A somber expression flits across his visage and eyes, “...That, eventually, I would hurt the one person I never wanted to.” The corner of his mouth twitches, holding both bitterness and grief; a painful duo, “...And retribution came just as swiftly, but it--” He sighs, shaking his head in defeat before muttering under his breath, “Observe and accept. Observe that what came to pass was uncontrollable, and accept that it had to happen for your path to continue, for your soul to be complete.” What is something you were embarrassingly late to realize?

His face blanks, mouth going into a hard line before a sigh exits through his nose slowly, “...That I don’t have tail.” He snarls, blank expression twisting in warning, “Laugh, elf. Do it.” He nods in the next second when no sounds of amusement come forth, expression going stoic once more, “That’s what I thought. You try living centuries in one form and then transitioning. See what happens.” Do you have mental health or physical issues?

He nods, sighing tiredly. “Like my names, I have a lot.” A hand motions to his body lazily, “My entire body is littered in scars, inflicted through crude experiments by an abomination that sought power like so many others,” He expression sours, jaw working back a forth, “They’ve calmed over the years, but the memories are not so kind.” He sighs, trying to calm himself and lifts his left hand; the Anchor glowing faintly and his eyes watch it, “I have an illness, or rather, sensitivity to any Fade born essence. That, too, has calmed and I’m grateful for that. As for my mind..” He trails off, grimacing a bit as if suddenly in pain, “...Visualize the Void, and there’s your answer. Black walls with crimson torches, seats empty, but somehow wanting for memories to take their seats. However, those occupants never come, burnt to ash by fury’s flame. That’s my mind in a nutshell.” What is your current main goal?

He raises his eyebrows, pursing his lips, “Mm, as of right now, I’m busy helping Solas unlock the eluvians that he couldn’t while I was away,” He flexes his marked hand, watching it with a look of determination in his eyes, “That’ll take time, but after, my people, my kin will have their skies back. I won’t let this power be squandered, and I won’t let the key that I’ve been entrusted with fall into the wrong hands.” His face hardens further, “For if that key rusts, the locks break and the sky will blacken as surely as the earth will redden.”

Choices

Drink or food?

“Drinks.” He says with ease, shrugging, “Food is comforting, especially sweets, but a glass of rum or ale, or a cup of chamomile tea really pounds the word ‘relaxation’ into my head.” Cats or dogs?

He smiles, warmth caressing its edges, “You’ve seen Nislean wandering about the halls, laying on the window sills and curling up in front of the fire,” He hums suddenly, crossing his arms again, “Which reminds me, I need to go out of the Crossroads for milk. I’ll be getting more than five bottles this time.” Optimist or pessimist?

“Depends on who you ask,” He shrugs, seeming unbothered, “I’m neither from a personal standpoint. I try to see the bright spots, but shadows can be very persistent.”   Sassy or sarcastic?

He snorts, “Ask Fen’harel,” his voice is light upon the title, playfully mocking in its deepness, “He knows all about that side. Although, he would label it, ‘insufferable’. I would call myself dryly sarcastic, though.”

Have You Ever

Been caught sneaking out?

He purses his lips, “Hmm. Not that I can recall,” he says slowly before his brows jumped and his eyes lit up with memory, “Oh! Wait. There was that one time where I was with Solas and Mythal in a...courtyard, I think?” He shrugs before shrugging, “Doesn’t matter. But, I tried to slip away, tail and all, and I...may have shattered one or two or three eluvians trying to get to the balcony.” He somewhat wistfully, smirking, “Elgar’nan got fucking stuck in a far off settlement for a week, though. Completely worth getting my horn chewed off by a wolf.” Broken a bone?

“Surprisingly, no.” He huffs in amusement, “Wonder of wonders, truthfully.” Received flowers?

“I have,” He scowls, rolling his eyes and shaking his head in disgust, “but I always throw them into the fire. Most are from suitors, those who don’t know what the fuck ‘taken’ means.” Ghosted someone?

His face tightens, completely deadpan, “...No?”, he says, voice raising in question a bit, “At least I don’t believe so. But, then again...oh.” He blanks further, “...Oh. I understand the term now. You mortals are forever twisting the languages, aren’t you? I can’t keep up, but the answer is still no.” Pretended to laugh at a joke you didn’t get?

“Maybe once or twice, but I don’t ‘laugh’ per say.” He huffs through his nose deliberately, “I do that; a puff of air. Some habits are never truly able to be broken. No matter the form.”

Tagging: @oxygenforthewicked @blueheaded @little-lightning-lavellan @noire-pandora @the-dreadful-canine and anyone else that’d like to play! (no pressure, of course!)

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Twenty-Four: Loss of Memory ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uzumaki Naruto, Ebisu ] [ SasuHina, blood ] [ Verse: Like Magic ] [ AO3 Link ]

It all began in that bookstore.

Rescuing Naruto from his no-good Summer guardian (which, in all fairness, was mostly Shisui’s hairbrained idea to use his Merlin-forsaken enchanted car) meant that Sasuke and Naruto visited Diagon Alley together with the former’s elder brother Itachi leading them through their school supplies list. They’d met up with their friends - the Hufflepuff Hinata and the Ravenclaw Sakura - on the way, barely able to fit into the bookstore. A so-called famous author, Ebisu, had been there signing copies of his books...and Mikoto had begged Itachi get her a signed copy of one of his tomes.

And it was there they ran into the last people they wanted to see: another Slytherin, Gaara, and his father Rasa. After a rather tense standoff, Rasa calling Hinata a blood traitor as a pureblood mucking about with those ‘lesser’, they’d all failed to notice the book he’d slipped into her cauldron of supplies.

It was that book that would shape the coming year in terrible, terrible ways.

The first attack left the entire school shaken: the caretaker’s cat petrified, and a bloody message written on the wall just beneath her form:

“The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware.”

A Chamber of Secrets…? Not an entirely unfounded idea in their four young minds. After all, Hogwarts was old, and even the headmaster had claimed there were still things undiscovered and unknown about it. But given the impressions from the staff (and some students…), it had seemed such an idea had been heard of before.

Only through their history teacher did they learn of the rumors of the Slytherin founder’s alleged secret chamber: a place housing a terrible monster to cleanse Hogwarts of those Salazar found to be ‘unsuitable’ for learning the arts of magic.

A monster within Hogwarts...and one bent on eliminating those of so-called ‘impure’ blood...a terrifying thought. Especially given that one of their own, Sakura, was Muggleborn. And Naruto himself was a halfblood.

But the strange happenings didn’t stop there.

During a Quidditch match, Naruto found himself being chased by a seemingly-rogue bludger. Only after it broke his arm (and the incompetent Ebisu vanished his bones) did Naruto come to know it was Shukaku - a house elf bent on keeping Naruto from the castle - behind several incidents thus far. He revealed that the Chamber had been opened once before.

...and the attacks continued. The school began a dueling club in hopes of preparing the students for trouble. And it was then during a typical rivalry escalation that Sasuke learned something about himself he’d never known before:

He was a Parselmouth.

Immediately, suspicion began to grow against him. Salazar, after all, had been famed for his ability to speak to serpents. And now Sasuke - part of a pureblood Slytherin-frequenting family - was revealed to have the same ability?

...could he be the heir…? The one attacking the Muggleborns? Maybe his friendship with Sakura was fake...after all, they’d been seen bickering at times.

Desperate to find the real mastermind, the group decides to use a Polyjuice potion to interrogate Gaara, figuring his family’s sketchy history may be a clue. The broken bathroom they used was always occupied by a peculiar girl ghost, who later revealed a key clue: a strange diary someone had left in her haunt.

Sasuke did all he could to uncover its secrets, discovering it belonged to a young man named Madara. He had been present during the last attack, showing his valiant capture of the previous perpetrator: the current groundskeeper.

But that did little to solve their problem. As the headmaster and groundskeeper were removed...one last attack seemed the final straw:

Sakura.

But she provided the clue they needed: in her bookish ways, she’d finally found the answer. The monster was a basilisk: a giant snake, explaining Sasuke’s ability to hear a strange voice all year coming from the walls. They then realize that the student killed when the chamber was last opened was none other than Rin, the lavatory ghost...who tells them all they need to know.

But upon their attempts to rally the last of their group...they find Hinata gone. Taken into the Chamber for her status as blood traitor. Desperate, the boys go to enlist Ebisu’s help.

...only to find him quick busily packing.

“...going somewhere, professor?” Sasuke asks, stepping into the room and drawing the man’s gaze.

Ebisu, as it turns out...is a fraud. But that doesn’t stop Naruto and Sasuke dragging him into the bathroom where Rin waits, Sasuke opening the chamber at last with a command of Parseltongue.

One ride down the pipes later, and the trio find themselves beneath the castle.

“...bloody hell,” Naruto mumbles, pointing. “...is that…?”

“A snake skin,” Sasuke replies. “And a huge one. That’s got to be from the basilisk. Remember...keep your eyes closed if you think it’s near.”

“Oh...well…” With a roll of his eyes, Ebisu simply...collapses.

Both boys give him a glance. “...he’s fainted,” Naruto mutters. “Git.”

Making to poke him with his patched-up wand, the blond gives a holler as the professor snatches it, leaping up and grinning.

“Well now...that’s better. Can’t have you two telling anyone what you know! Now, let’s see...how to spin this little story...ah, yes. We were...too late to save the girl. You both succumbed to shock and madness at the grisly sight. All that remains...is to wipe your memories. Obliviate!”

Before either boy can react, there’s a sparking glow from the split in Naruto’s wand...and then Ebisu crashes against the wall.

And then with a rumble, the chamber begins to crumble…!

“Look out!” Each skittering backwards, the boys duck for cover...and as the rubble comes to a standstill, it’s piled high and wide between them.

“Sasuke!”

“I’m all right! But...I don’t think there’s a way through.”

With a groan, Ebisu then lolls his head up to look at Naruto. “...oh...well hello. Who...who are you? And…” His brow furrows. “...who am I?”

“...I think his spell backfired, he’s lost his memory...but what do we do now?”

Sasuke hesitates. “...stay here, and try to move some of this rock, if you can. I’ll go find Hinata! And...keep an eye on Ebisu. Who knows if he’s faking again, so...be careful.”

“...right. You too.”

“Not sure there’s much point in that now,” Sasuke mutters to himself, continuing down the rocky corridor...only to find another door.

“...all right. Er…” Swallowing, he gives another murmur of Parseltongue, the ornate serpent lock coming undone and revealing a huge chamber. At the rear, a giant stone statue of Salazar, flanked by snakes.

And at the end...a motionless Hinata.

“...no…!” Heart clenching in fear, Sasuke dashes forward and crashes at her side, seeing her skin as pale as death. “Hinata...Hinata!”

“...she won’t wake.”

Gasping, Sasuke looks into the shadows, where a familiar young man walks. “...Madara…? But…? Look, we have to get out of here! There’s a monster!”

“It won’t come until it’s called.”

Sasuke pauses...and then lifts his gaze. In Madara’s hands, forgotten by his own, is his wand. “...give that back.”

“Oh, you won’t be needing it.”

“Didn’t you hear me? There’s a monster! And...we…”

“I can’t let you leave. You see...the weaker this blood traitor gets...the stronger I become. It was she who opened the Chamber of Secrets.”

“No...she couldn’t, she -!”

“She unleashed the basilisk, let it seek out the Mudbloods in the castle...and it was she who wrote the warnings on the walls.”

“But...why?”

“Because I told her to. My instructions were rather...convincing...” A smirk grows across his face. “But not to worry. It was I, not she, who was in control. To finish what Salazar aimed to do.”

“Why would you…?”

“Because I...am the heir of Slytherin. His blood courses through my veins. Veins which, soon now, will be living again. Resurrected from a memory preserved in a diary for fifty years. And very soon now...I will be reborn. And this time...nothing can stop me from purifying the wizarding world. Not even you...your precious headmaster is gone. No one is left to stand against me.”

“You’re wrong...he’s never gone. Not so long as students remain who believe in him…!”

As the pair stare each other down, a trill sounds at the front of the cavern.

“...Fawkes…?”

With a toss, the phoenix drops a worn piece of fabric Sasuke struggles to catch. It’s...the Sorting Hat…?

“...ha...so this is what your loyalty earns you? A songbird, and an old hat. Well...let’s see how it matches up against the power of Salazar Slytherin…!” Eyes wide with malice and grin bearing teeth, Madara turns to the founder’s likeness. A chant of Parseltongue sees the statue’s mouth begin to open.

“Now what will you do…?”

Staggering back, Sasuke watches with wide eyes as a rustling fills the air...and the basilisk emerges with a geyser-like hiss.

“Very soon now, the process will be complete. Hinata Hyūga will die...and I will be born anew. And by then, you’ll be rotting in the basilisk’s belly!”

Barely breathing, Sasuke does all he can do, wandless and alone.

He runs.

                                                              .oOo.

     (This is a sequel to days 28, 230, 299, and 316!)       Well this is...a lot more rushed than I'd like, but it was the first thing that came to mind. And after wasting WAY too much time reading a summary and then checking film pieces to refresh MY memory (ahaha, get it?), I couldn't back out xD I love this crossover, but obviously I need to find more roles, cuz uh...I had to leave quite a few blank, and some of these are a little...hurried, lol      BUT! We have a crossover with Chamber of Secrets. And it's valiant Sasuke off to save Hinata! Well...he doesn't look too valiant running away at the end there, but he needs to plan! And not get eaten! Not to worry, I'm sure he'll save her in the end.      I know this is an evil cliffie, but...at the same time, we all (or most) know how this goes, right? Forgive me xD Limited time and word count is a killer, lol - maybe I'll do more another time!      Buuut anyway, it's...very late, so I better go ^^; Thanks for reading!

[klrkwall]

Honey tastes like vinegar

— the temptations from demons have flirted with hawke for the many months he had been left in the fade. he flirted back, hoping it’d one day lead to his freedom. he’s finally free, yet is convinced he is imprisoned. the honey of his freedom tastes like bitter vinegar.

set after inquisition, garrett hawke has made it out of the fade and the demon’s temptations. he is still convinced he is imprisoned. hurt/comfort, angst, fluff. prompt sent in by my bf “don’t tempt me.” 

— ; garrett hawke is hinted to be trans in this fic with his bare chest, which he is. so if that may make you dysphoric do not read. it’s very, very vague tho.

if you like please consider giving a reblog <3 

under the ‘keep reading’ line. 

“Don’t. Tempt. Me.”

Fenris glances at Garrett with a concerned look, reaching out to grab his arm but watches as the Champion flinches away. His heart broke the first few times Garrett had flinched away, but now was used to it. “You’re one of them.” The elf inhaled slowly, doing his best to keep it quiet. He looks to the silent man who flinches from every being who touches him. “Tempt you of what?”

“I will slay you down myself, demon. You have taken everything away from me, I’ll take away the form you have of the man I love.”

Garrett Hawke. Once a man who used humor in the most inappropriate situations, sarcasm to the town’s greatest leaders who sought to tear him down and drown him in the river of blood that he had created, the one who watched his family die one by one like apples falling from a tree and molding as they were left abandoned on the ground for weeks, much like Bethany’s corpse in the deep road, Carver’s corpse after the ogre had torn him to pieces and much like Leandra’s corpse when it collapsed after the blood mage who reshaped her had been defeated. He was a man with no patience, but was nothing but patient after Fenris had left him after memories stabbing him in the back on their first night together, when Merrill needed assistance with the demon she had been with for years, when Isabela needed assistance with her theft of the Qunari relic, when Anders had blown the chantry up. He was an angel with blood on his clothes. He was sent from above, perhaps not the maker, but somebody else.

Fenris did not flinch at the words. Garrett held an icy glare while Fenris held a soft gaze, the intense staring interrupted by Garrett’s grumbling stomach. “The sounds your stomach make – annoy me. Come, let us find you something to eat.”

“Truly you couldn’t kiss me first? If you are a demon pretending to be Fenris, you could be kind like last time. Feed me a feast, take a warm bath then we make some pretty damn good love all night long.” Garrett complains, looking away from Fenris and towards the door. “Nope. I’m not some demon looking to kiss your feet or coddle you. You’re Hawke. Garrett Hawke, a strong man who is more then capable of fetching himself his desires.”

Garrett scoffs then laughs. “How do I fetch my desire to get you out of my face? You’re a demon who lives for no other purpose then to taunt me. Taunt, taunt, taunt. Fuck off.”

  The bowl is half empty when he is finished with it. Fenris is pleased but doesn’t let it show. “I suppose that is good enough. You actually are eating.” Garrett groans. “Okay mother. Yeah – If I ate anymore of that piss tasting stuff I’d probably be dead for real. No more of this fade crap-“ He pauses for a moment, coming to a sudden realization as he reaches for the bowl. “Actually, hand me that bowl. Maybe the rest of it will finish me off.”

Fenris rolls his eyes and yanks the bowl away, clearly unimpressed and begins to finish off the rest of the bowl. “I believe my food preparing and making skills are quite decent, excuse you.”

“I prefer the ravishing feast that left me full for days and mouth watering for the next meal course.” Fenris arches his eyebrow, not convinced as he finishes off the bowl of food and leaves Hawke to walk over to the door. “Go to bed, no bedtime story tonight.” The elf teased as he walks out the door, shutting it to allow Hawke some privacy.

Garrett sighs, he turns his attention to a mirror in the room and notices his worsened condition. His eyes that carried bags now were over cumbered with them, strands of his raven hair were falling out, his skin was littered with more scars and a lighter pale then before. His body dropped weight – noticeably.

Confusion was a word that summed up thousands of emotions that Garrett had felt. In other confrontations with demons who posed as his family, friends – Fenris. He was healthier, booming with laughter, body surrounded with hot water, stomach full of the best food in all of Thedas. He was healthy – nobody needed his help anymore, he could focus on himself.

Instead, he was no longer the strong champion, only the weak walking corpse of what the bold spirit left behind. In his mind, he was the next apple to fall from the tree of the Hawke family and left to rot on the ground for weeks, months, years to come.

He scoffs. “Psh, looks like the fucking demons are getting more aggressive with their realities.” He runs a hand through his hair, ignoring the worry that zapped his body and overflowed his body.. “Couldn’t even make me look attractive. “ He undoes his casual clothes, sliding them off and slides on comfortable trousers. Garrett climbs into the small bed, covering his body with a blanket as if it was a shield from the demons that looked to haunt him and tear his mind open mentally so it’d mess with him physically.

  “How’s the bastard?” Varric slides over a tankard of some wine for Fenris who accepts it and gulps down a sip immediately. He brings his shoulders up then down quickly, a shrug. “As best as could be, suppose. He has moved on from the mad suicidal phase. We went on a walk a few days ago – to get out of the room, and he nearly jumped off the bridge. He truly thinks I’m a demon who seeks to harm him.”

The dwarf winces, noting the amount of stress Fenris must be under. “So, Broody, you got a plan to break Hawke out of this demonic spell?”

“At the moment, I’m not coddling him like the demons have. The demons that have took my body as a form to fool with Garrett have given him nothing but love, amazing feasts, warm baths, treating him like a king.” Another pause, to sip the wine that tingled his throat. “I’m simply treating him how Kirkwall treated him. No special treatments, just the bare minimum to keep him alive.”

“Ah yeah, that’ll show him you aren’t some demon and you’re actually his husband.”

A flush rises to Fenris’s cheeks, chuckling softly as he sips his wine. “I… am not his husband, we have spoken of exchanging such titles.”

“Is that a title you want some day?” The dwarf asks, he is taking mental notes of Fenris’s demeaner. He can read anyone as if they were one of his novels, he knows Fenris is flustered and a secret hope lingers within him. “Someday, I’d like to be his husband yes. It’s a future I hope he and I have together.”

“Trust me, Broody. Hawke is absolutely whipped for you. You’ll be his husband one day, and your wedding will be held in Hightown, I’ll have the whole town bowing at your guys’s feets and kissing the ground you walk on.” He continues his fantasy and it would be a lie if Fenris was listening with hope. He would like to wed Garrett one day, he and Hawke rarely ever speak about it. Yet it was a fantasy both dreamt of.

  Morning creeps quickly and this time, there is so sunshine pouring through the windows like the other fantasies Garrett has lived through. Outside, it is storming and rain drips off the window. Fed up with being inside for the past month, he slides light armor on, getting used to the multiple buckles and grabbed two of his silver knives that had been used to create puddles of blood over his ten years in Kirkwall and he heads to the training part of Skyhold.

 Fenris sits on the grass with a book in his hand, the words just slipping through his eyes and out his brain. The words are scrambled, he does not pay attention to them. Instead, he pays close attention to Garrett who wears a piece of what Fenris predicts to be curtain over his eyes to shield them from seeing his target.

His target – a stuffed tummy, Garrett is practicing throwing knives. Fenris watches as one strikes through the dummy, stuffing peeking through the new rip.

The former Champion lifts his blindfold, glancing at the knives he threw. One sits near between the eyes, surely to take out an enemy no matter how powerful. The other, just above the crotch. He snickers, then bursts into a fit of giggles. How childish. Fenris thinks but a smile creeps upon his face, letting the song of his love’s laugh play on repeat in record of his mind.

“Hey, Fen.” Fenris’s white eyebrows shoot up, he does not look at the words on paper anymore and instead up at Hawke. A sudden urge to cry reaches his desires, words scramble at his throat and his mind is halting them, won’t let them drip out like they need to. That was the first time in – months, that Garrett had spoken any part of Fenris’s name.

Fenris attempts to act in a casual manner, glancing up from his book. “Can I assist you, Hawke?”

“C’mon, try to be a nice demon and be somewhat affectionate you brood.” He sits next to Fenris, even though they are close there is still a large amount of distance between the two. Yet, Fenris could not help but feel that the road is smaller now. The simple action of saying his name was enough to bring them closer. “I have told you, I am not a demon. I am offended, why should I act affectionate if you believe I, your love, am a demon?”

Garrett groans, clearly frustrated as he rolls his eyes. “I dunno, cause you’re some temptation demon?” He shrugs.  “More like a bitchy demon right now.”

“I do not think that is such a demon.”

“Could you induldge me a little bit, please?” His soft plea is almost enough to tug at Fenris’s heart. He should not give in, yet he does a little bit and presses a soft kiss to the top of Garrett’s greasy hair. “There. Now, go continue your training and leave me to read.” Garrett lays his head over Fenris’s thighs, the rain pouring on the parts of them that are not covered by the sheltering roof that is keeping Fenris’s book from becoming soaked. Fenris goes to move his legs in shock, but Garrett hands onto them as if it is dear life.

“Just… Just let me for a moment, please.” He begs, his voice goes softer.

Fenris lets him.

They sit like that for a few moments. Garrett presses a soft, shaking kiss to Fenris’s clothed thigh and tears threaten to spill from his eyes. And they do. They fall onto his love’s trousers and he whispers.

“How I wish you were real. How I wish this were real. How I wish, but – “ He laughs. “- This universe takes everything from me. I should’ve known Corphyeus and his fucking minions would take you away too.” Garrett is fuming, his hand clenches into a fist and is near ready to punch something but he stays. “Nothing ever stays.”

Fenris does not respond. Garrett’s words are replaced with the sounds of the rain. What Garrett did not know, was the demons were replaced with Fenris.

  “Would you mind telling me how you choose to leave Hawke behind in the fade?” Fenris demands an answer. The Inquisitor – the one who stands in front of him with his back turned to the former slave, has the answer that Fenris wants. He turns around, Fenris recognizes the face. The most memorable thing about it, the scar that traveled over his eyebrow and over his eye.

“Fenris.” Elora greeted. His old friend, stands there with anything but a welcoming look. The one who was responsible for Garrett’s fucked up mindset. “Hawke… It was between him or Alistair. Alistair represented a whole organization –“

“A whole organization gone mad! One who serves this lord that is Corphyeus! They were foolish enough to give in- “ Elora interrupts him. His look is the look of somebody who took a bite of a sour edible. “An organization that needed to be rebuilt. Would you like to be wiped out come the next blight?” Silence.  “Hawke gave himself up, sacrificed himself. He knew the risks, I allowed him to run in. It was a sudden decision left up to me!”

“He is damaged. The demons have taunted and twisted him inside and out.” “Fenris. You and I both know Hawke is not broken, he is bent.”

 Fenris knew that. He understood that Hawke is not damaged, he knew that if Hawke would not return from the fade like he had been blessed with – he would be okay one day, he knew that losing Hawke was definitely a nightmare that could become a reality.

“You – You are right. I apologize, Elora.” The inquisitor chuckles. “A sour reunion. Not the one I was dreaming of.” Fenris shakes his head. “I regret my words, I apologize. Let’s have a drink later, friend.”

  Fenris returns to Garrett over Varric with one of his sharpest knives. Sweat drips down his forehead, a bunch of Varric’s shirt is bunched in Garrett’s tight gripped fist. “YOU! Continue to taunt me! By possessing the form of my best friend! No longer you damn demon.” Garrett laughs in a nervous manner, Varric has his hands up as the fool continues to negotiate his life.

“Hawke, Garrett, it’s me! Your best friend! I’m not some fuckin’ demon!”

Garrett laughs once more. “You believe I’m going to fall for those foolish words once more?”

Within a second, Garrett is restrained and is pushed against a table. Varric takes a few quick breaths and stands back up from leaning against the table, he looks at Fenris who is pinning Garrett down. His knife is still being tightly gripped in his hand.

“Garrett…” Fenris’s tone is a warning shot. He does not need to speak the words for Garrett to understand what he wants. “This is the only thing I have any possible hope of protecting me, you fools!” His words are a roar, he is trying desperately to be the predator but he is the prey. He is the prey of many, he is convinced that Fenris and Varric are now the predators waiting to rip him open once more.

“Drop the knife.” Fenris commands gently. Garrett rolls his eyes and shakes his head the best he could. “Hell with you, demon.” He growls.

Varric goes to rip the knife from Garrett’s closed fist. Fenris shoots him a glare and shakes his head. The dwarf looks at him as if he’s mad, yet backs up anyway and obeys Fenris’s instruction.

“Fine, Garrett. You keep the knife, or you drop it.” Fenris steps away from Garrett and stands there, with a calm posture and emotionless look painted on his face. His arms cross. “You going to stab your best friend? Do it. If you’re convinced the demon will leap out of him and you are sitting in some fade puddle, awaiting for possession, or another demon to screw with you.”

A realization hits Garrett. Yet, so does confusion.

He turns his back to both his best friend and love, he shakes his head in frustration. “You… the other demons – the dreams, the realities, maker… - They all did what I wanted. I had control.”

“Reality does not give you complete control, Hawke.” Varric announces with a gentle tone. Fenris steps forward and gazes at Hawke, holding his hand out. “You have complete control over this, Hawke. Hand me the knife or don’t.” He pauses, letting it sink in. “You have control.”

There is then silence. Garrett glances down at the knife, then to Varric and finally settles a gaze on Fenris. “I have control…” He mutters, tucking his knife in his sleeve. “I’m keeping it.” He announces, Fenris nods.

“I don’t expect a dagger in the throat by the time I wake up.” Varric hopes as he walks off, leaving the two to be alone.

 I have control. Garrett realizes.

 A week later, it is still pouring in Skyhold. Garrett and Fenris decide to sit outside, identical to the one day last week when Garrett was venting at the dumbies with his knife tossing.

Garrett’s trust in Fenris built up slowly each day, separation made them stronger. Each time Garrett realized he had control over whatever he wanted to do and the demons simply would not coddle him, and knew that others would not submit to him slowly convinced him that perhaps, this was a reality. Or a very, very cruel nightmare.

Garrett finishes stabbing the dumbies, practicing knife throwing and slides his protector into his pocket and searches for Fenris with his eyes. He finds he is near the garden where the witch – Morrigan would stand with her son, Kieran. Garrett walks over to him, knows he can turn away anytime.

He knows he has control over himself, and others have control over themselves.

He chooses to walk, eventually walking turned to running and he ran up behind Fenris and hugged him from behind in a tight hug. One of his arm goes across Fenris’s torso, identical to one of his buckles and one slant of an X. The other, forms the other slant of the X.

Tears begin to stream down his face again, overwhelmed with the amount of love he has for Fenris and the amount of fear that this wasn’t his love. That this wasn’t the real Fenris.

Fenris is shock by the sudden impact and lets it show, so Fenris can let Garrett know this is reality and he felt other emotions then simply wanting to make everything perfect for Hawke. To let the ground be clean of the blood he spilt of his enemies. He slowly slides his hand over one of Garrett’s, allowing him to speak first.

“Please –“ He begs. “Show me… Show me you are Fenris, show me you’re the man I love – Maker’s breath, please, Fenris. If you are there, show me you’re you. Show me you’re Fenris.” He begs. The begs tug at Fenris’s heartstrings as if they are the puppet. Yet, Garrett was the puppet for the puppeteer’s – the demons – amusement for months. The elf nods and slowly slides his free hand into his pocket and slides out the red scarf that had been worn on Fenris’s wrist for several years since the first night they had slept together.

Before Garrett could object, Fenris begins to tell the story that only he would know.

Fenris is spooned in Garrett’s arms, his back against the chest of the man he had been in love with for some time. Garrett sits up a few minutes later and gets up from the bed, Fenris watches him with curiosity as he watches Garrett make his way across the room, suddenly uncomfortable from the lack of chest to lay against.

Garrett scrambles through a small box, clearly full of meaningful possessions. Two minutes later as Fenris is about to call out for him, Garrett pulls out two things and quickly walks over to Fenris, sitting on his side of the bed and slides the possessions over to Fenris. He gazes down in curiosity, holding one of them.

One was a crescent. Of the Amell symbol, and the other a red scarf.

“Hawke…?”

Garrett coughed nervously. “Its uh – I know I’m not the gift master but uh,” His words were scrambled. Fenris smiled slightly and softly chuckled. “You for once are at a loss of words, a rare sight indeed.” He softly teased. Garrett shot him a playful glare.

“I just…” He silently asks for permission to take Fenris’s wrist, which is granted and he ties the red scarf around it. “I… don’t have anything other, better – really. So, I guess this is to show that I’m serious about you. About… us.” He confessed.

 Even when Fenris left two hours later, Garrett did not regret giving him the crescent or the scarf that was tied with the promise of Garrett loving Fenris. He sat there, hoping Fenris would realize he was serious and would wait for him. No matter what.

 “Only… Only you would know that. Only Fenris would know that.” Fenris nods, understanding the sudden realization of his love and how confusing it must be. “I am Fenris, last time I checked.” Garrett hugs Fenris tighter, tighter then he had in a very long time. He shudders, tears spill in Fenris’s white locks as Garrett buries his face in it.

“You – You’re Fenris.” He spins his love around and strokes his cheek, rushing to kiss Fenris’s cheek and he does. He then kisses his forehead. His other cheek. His nose. Fenris chuckles, eyes closing as Garrett presses soft kisses upon the thin skin of his eyelids. Then, what he had been waiting for several months for, he feels Garrett’s lips press against his.

They kiss like that for a long while, taking short breaks to catch their fast pacing breaths.

“Maker – Maker, Fenris I am so sorry.” Garrett allows his words to scramble and flow out messily, knowing he could not plan them and let them come out in good form. Fenris brings his hand to Garrett’s cheek and softly strokes it. The touch is painful for both, it is a touch they have both ached to have for several months. A simple touch they fear would not happen again.

“It is understandable, Garrett.”

“I suppose I should go apologize to Varric.” Fenris grins. “You did nearly stab the man to death, convinced he was a demon.”

“Wouldn’t shock me. With the filth he writes.”

    It’s later that evening, they are in their personal quarters and Fenris climbs into the cold bed with Garrett who is waiting with open arms. Fenris lays on his bare chest. Garrett laughs. “You enjoying my manly pillows?” Referring to his open chest.

Fenris rolls his eyes, softly laughing. “Absolutely.”

This was simple. It was a simple evening for any other couple in Thedas, but this was the long awaited reunion Garrett and Fenris had prayed to the Maker and or any other creator out there. Garrett fell asleep soon after and Fenris admired his beloved’s slightly relaxed face. His body wasn’t completely free of the tension, but some was released.

The warrior presses a gentle kiss to Garrett’s shoulder, allowing his lips to linger on the skin of the man he loved dearly before pressing another one out of pure indulgence. He lays his head over Garrett’s chest once more, listening to the heart beating.

“One day soon, perhaps I will ask you to be my husband. I do not think we will get a better time then this.” He begins to ramble softly, aware that there is the small possibility the sleeping Champion could hear him. “But for now – you are my love, bounded to me.” He looks up, pressing a kiss to Garrett’s chest.

“Thank you for trusting in me, Garrett.” He could feel tears poke at his eyes. “Welcome home, welcome back, we missed you.”

Soft whimpers leave Fenris as he tries not to shudder, not allow his sobs of happiness and relief to wake Hawke out of his well-deserved slumber. “I – I have missed you.”

Garrett hears every word.

[dracofrosi]

When a Spirit is Born

I wrote this awhile ago and have decided to continue drabbles of this. It’s gonna be on and off, and if you would like me to write a specific thing in this verse, go ahead and message me. 

Here’s the OG link for this story:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8400574

Happy Reading!

Draco Malfoy was Excited.

He woke up on June 4th in a good mood. He spent the first hours of his day getting ready. He went through his morning routine of brushing his teeth, combing his hair, and changing his clothes. He stared at himself in the mirror, pleased with what he saw. he looked impeccable, like a Malfoy always should. His clothes were sharp and tidy, not a wrinkle in sight. His hair was combed, but not gelled. He got out of that habit in the middle of third year.

Draco heard a slight 'pop'.

"Master Draco," the house-elf, Minky, said, "Mistress be wanting you downstairs. She say breakfast be ready."

Draco turned to Minky and nodded, prompting her to leave. He straightened himself and left his room.

Great, I'm starving! I wonder what she made!

Draco paused to stare intently at the wall. The voice was back. For many years, Draco had heard the voice, never been without it. It would always speak, whenever something childish came along, whenever he crushed a mudblood's spirit. The voice was always there! He dare not speak to his parents about it, knowing the Black family tendency to be driven mad. He would rather live with the voice than be viewed warily by his parents, quite like how they viewed Aunt Bella. He only ever acknowledged the voice when he stomped it away. Like now.

Yeah, yeah, I know. I'll go back to my corner of our mind.

Satisfied with that response, Draco turned away from the wall and continued towards the dining hall.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Breakfast with his Mother and Father was pleasant. They asked if he was sure he didn't want a party for his birthday and what presents he wanted. He knew what he wanted, he only asked for it since he got back to school. His parents were slightly on edge with the request, but they agreed that it would be a fun trip. To see the creatures he had read about in books, oh what a brilliant trip tomorrow would be. Never mind learning anything from the Hagrid the Oaf, who couldn't even control a hippogriff, much less keep it contained. He was going to see real beasts behind fences, with the knowledge he'd be safe.

He'd get to see things he never thought he would see.

You see, Draco Malfoy had begged his parents to go to the zoo. A bit strange for a fourteen year old to ask after, but nonetheless, he did. Draco wanted to go to the Danfiege Haven for Creatures. This reserve hosted hundreds of thousands of creatures, some wizards and witches couldn't even imagine. Draco had the urge to go there, like he needed to be there for some reason.

Gee, I wonder why you feel that way?

He would figure it out when he got there. Today was meant to be a day of relaxing. Draco read a book from the library. He decided to fly around the estate for a couple of hours. He always felt like the wind was carrying him though the air. It was exhilarating. When night had fallen, Draco was tuckered out. He was ready to fall asleep. He took a quick bath and curled up in his bed, excited for what tomorrow would bring.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Draco Malfoy was unhinged.

His dreams that night were filled with snow and ice, falling and drowning. He dreamt of being lonely, never being seen. He saw great furry beasts and small house-elf creatures. He dreamed of snow globes turning into portkeys and sleighs that soared through the sky with reindeer attached. Little fairies, that looked like hummingbirds twittered in his mind. Golden sand filled his dreamscape. Hulking eggs stomped his mind.

Why.

Why was he dreaming this? What did his mind create? Surely someone with this much imagination couldn't be sane. This looked to be a reality the Loony Lovegood created!

The moon shone brightly in a flash.

He wished for the thoughts, the ideas his mind created, the memories he was remembering, to stop, Stop, STOP!!!

Everything faded to black as he said the words, No need to be afraid. We're just gonna have some fun!

Mary...

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

You and I need to have a talk.

Draco opened his eyes and saw a frozen lake in a forest covered by snow. It was a winter wonderland in June. Draco glanced around the lake and came upon a boy. The boy looked much like he did, with snow white hair and pale features. The boy had bright blue eyes and wore strange clothing. He had seen some students, the muggleborns (Mudbloods, why did he start with muggleborn?) at school, wearing them on weekends. What did they call them again? Hoodies! Yes, a bright blue hoodie adorned the boy's top and his bottom was covered in light brown pants, more like rags. He sat atop a hooked staff, like a shepard's staff. His face wore a grin.

"Wha-What? Who are you?"

The boy chuckled, his features shaking in excitement as he crouched on top of the staff that balanced in the ice. He must be using magic!

Who am I? I feel hurt! I've only talked to you everyday of your life....or our life.

"What? You're the voice! You're whose been haunting my mind all this time?"

Duh, did you think I was someone different?

"Why have you decided to inhabit my mind? Get out!"

Geeze, so touchy. It's alright, come tomorrow morning, you won't be bothered by me as much.

Draco felt surprise and suspicion.

"Why? What's so special about tomorrow?"

Tomorrow is when we start to merge. You see, I'm actually you. Well, I'm part of you.

"What."

You'll know tomorrow. From what I understand, this should be fixed by then.

"What should be fixed? What are you talking about?"

Us being separate. You see, we're not. I'm you, and you're me. Soon, my opinions won't have to be a cornerstone of thought for you. It will be you're opinion as well! We'll be whole again!

"What the hell is going on?!"

Don't worry. It's almost morning! You'll wake up with the answers.

"Wait, what?"

Maybe you just need a little push to wake up...

"Huh?"

The boy conjured a snowball, from nowhere, and threw it at Draco's face. Draco dodged it, but slipped on the ice in the process. He heard the boy again before his head cracked the ice.

It's always cold under there. Always something we have to relive...

Suddenly, Draco wasn't on a hard icy surface. He was underwater. He tried swimming for the surface, but his limbs wouldn't move. He felt his lungs start to burn and his head try to explode as he opened his mouth and felt water rushing in-and he couldn't breathe-everything was graying out-someone help him.

Darkness.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Draco Malfoy woke up sucking in breaths of air, feeling his lungs constrict as memories of water-sinking-cold-no air-

His eyes darted the room and realized with relief that it was morning and that was nothing but a horrible-no-good-very-bad dream.

And then he remembered everything. He remembered his life, his life as a poor farmers boy, with a younger sister -Mary- and a penchant to get into trouble. He remembered tricks and fun games, and snow and ice and Mary, don't be afraid, we're gonna play a game! It'll be fun!

He remembered pulling her towards a thicker sheet of ice and crashing throw the cracking ice that she was standing on, sinking in the water, not knowing how to swim. He remembered dying.

He remembered waking up on top of the lake again, with no knowledge except for a name -Jack Frost- and the moon -Manny- who gave it to him. He remembered 300 years of endless wandering, realizing no one could see him why couldn't they see him? why was he alone?

He remembered meeting spirits and finding out he was a spirit, he had a purpose, a gift of snow, ice, wonder, and fun fun fun!

He remembered the Guardians, and Pitch, and becoming a Guardian, and Jamie, and Sophie and discovering who he was.

He remembered the Monkey King, with his swords and his daggers, slashing at Toothiana, trying to cute off her wings and like hell was he about to let that happen.

He remembered jumping on the Monkey King, freezing his fur and making it cold cold cold but not in time to stop a slash and stab, right at his heart.

He remembered bleeding as North pulled the Monkey King off and punched him repeatedly. He saw Tooth and Sandy rush over to him and attempted to heal him. He heard Bunnymund, the proud Pooka, beg the Man in the Moon to Help him, please. He's dying!

He felt everything fade as the moon illuminated his body and whisked it away, feeling like he was traveling forever, until he opened his eyes and stared at two people staring at him in wonder and then everything faded.

He remembered it all.

Live this life until you want to return as a Guardian. We will welcome you back, Jack Frost. The Man in the Moon had said.

He couldn't remember until he turned the age he died. And the world suddenly looked bright, different, good. Everything he thought he knew, everything he thought he agreed with, he didn't anymore. He was more Jack than Draco now, but until he decided to become a spirit again, he would be just Draco.

With a few changes.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

He could see them. Spirits, minor ones at least, that people didn't see unless they believed, flittering about the reserve. Wrackspurts buzzed around people, infecting their thoughts and feeding the on the negative energy. The Nargles were stealing things from wizard's pockets and putting them in the strangest places.

I guess Looney Lovegood isn't so crazy after all.

He separated from his parents halfway through the tour. For some reason, his feet wanted to take him to the avian house. The wind tossed his hair with affection as he wandered over to the entrance.

That was another fun realization. With the knowledge of who he really was, Draco remembered his good friend, the Winds. He went outside before he was set to leave. He felt Wind breeze about, not recognizing him for who he was. He called out to Wind with a laugh and said who he was with glee. The Winds excitedly picked him up and carried him through the air. It was amazing and slightly terrifying. When Wind finished its fun, Draco felt it curl around him, content to stick around for awhile. Draco didn't think he would be alone for quite some time.

The avian house was filled with brilliant birds and creatures that were harmless to those with magic. The flew around the enclosure, above everyone's heads. Draco stared at the birds with glee before he heard something he hadn't heard in a long while. It was the twittering of a tooth fairy! Draco whipped around, eyes searching for the source when he found-there! It was Baby Tooth!

He slowly walked up to his friend and sat on the rock next to her.

"I guess I know why I wanted to come to the reserve today."

Baby Tooth stopped chattering to the other birds and looked towards him. Draco allowed a grin to stretch across his face as he looked at her.

"It's been fourteen years, so I'll let you off the hook for not knowing me yet. It's me, Jack!"

Baby Tooth's eyes got very wide before she chattered frantically, zipping around him and checking his body for injuries. He opened his mouth so she could inspect his teeth before laughing at the lug she face him.

"I missed you too, Baby Tooth. How have you been?"

She chattered quickly.

"Wow, so things have been hectic right? Did Manny tell the other Guardians about what happened to me?"

She nodded and danced in the air.

"That's good! I can't wait to see everyone!" He frowned in thought, "Do you think they know where my staff is?"

Baby Tooth waved her arms and squeaked.

"North has it, huh? I miss having it. How on Earth am I supposed to visit him when I'm still a human?"

Baby Tooth tapped her chin in thought before she zipped around to the other birds. She chattered with them for a few minutes before coming back to him and burying herself in his pocket.

"Planning to follow me, are you?"

She nodded in agreement.

"Alright then. Wanna go see the dragons? Maybe I can conjure some snow and throw it at them."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Turns out, Draco stilled had his powers, to an extent. He can fly with Wind and create small bits of snow here and there, but big bouts of ice creation tended to leave him exhausted. He used his magic in the creation of ice and snow, instead of his staff to act as a mediator. He threw some enchanted snowballs at some of the dragons, and witnessed a huge game of tag with puppy-like behemoths. He was laughing at the display when his Father approached him.

"Draco, I see you are enjoying yourself. What are they doing?"

Seeing his Father stare in wonder at the dragons playing with each other, Draco gave him a tired grin.

"They're playing, Father. This has been the best birthday ever! Thank you!"

Draco gave his Father a smile and he was rewarded with a ruffle of his hair. His Father gave him a long look.

"I do believe it's time we retire. You look a bit tired out."

Draco agreed and followed his Father towards his Mother. She smiled at them and hugged Draco.

"Have a good time, dear?"

Draco nodded and yawned.

"I do believe it's time to go home."

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

They returned to the Manor and Draco carried himself to his room. He was too exhausted to bathe of change as he flopped onto the bed in a tired heap. Baby Tooth wriggled out of his pocket and zipped around the room. Draco chuckled tiredly.

"Welcome to my room, Baby Tooth. This is where i spend my summers, when I'm not at school. Feel free to explore while I pass out."

Draco closed his eyes to Baby Tooth's chattering and breeze brushing past him as a window opened.

[ohyansu]

Yansu – The man of letters.

On a time-worn, faded piece of paper, scribbled in a messy handwriting : - Full name : Oh Yansu - Alias : S. A. Yan - Date of birth : 12th of April, 1994 - Age : 23 - Birth place : Unknown - Zodiac sign : Aries - House : House of Diamonds - Position : Ace - Occupation : Bartender - Establishment : Ye Olde Tavern - Family : None

- Day 1- Date : 11th of February, 2018. Entry : Haunted by the heavy feathers of the past. “ I remember that day as clear as this morning. Nothing to wear, nothing to eat, left alone in front of the goddess named fate. The same day I stumbled into the two faced boss, on the outside he looked like any other old man, yet, despite the deep wrinkles decorating his once tanned skin, something about the man made me intrigued, scared. On the inside, he was a sweet one, caring not only for his own family, but everyone, helping anyone in need. Being a scawny and sickly kid, even a shadow used to terrify me, not speaking about the ghosts of the past. ” “ That morning was cold. Well as cold as early spring day can be. First snow had already melted, giving space for fresh, green grass to grow. A damp morning it was. Puddles formed in the both sides of the road, any other kid would have used the chance to finally play in the water, but not me. Not the small Oh Yansu I used to be. The time was perfect for a morning run, cool yet freezing wind had already burnt my pale cheeks, yet it seemed like it was nothing to the people, rushing to get to their business. That’s the funny fact about nowadays society, it seems like everyone is just so busy, too busy to stop for a while and look around, notice smallest things. Maybe someone was asking for help, maybe someone needed that outstretched hand, but no one care. No one ever did. A society of egoistic, lying monsters, trying to blend into the group of people, acting like they care when on the inside they have lost the ability to care, ability to feel. And I am one of those monsters.” “ I woke up on the cold, dirty pavement, wearing clothes that were mine, but at the same time they weren’t . Like hands I stared down at, at the same time , they were my hands, the same palms I used to use, yet..they were colored in the deep shade of red. Being the same terrified kid, the thought of the red substance on my palms, made something brisk inside of my chest. A growing knot of another panic attack, another trophy for my enormous collection of things to be scared of. I got up and I ran. I ran as fast as my slender, sickly legs could allow me, I ran as fast as my cold burnt lungs could move me forward. I ran, I ran until I found myself on a porch of a house. The enormous mahogany door gave me a strange feeling of safety, of home. I was about to knock when it opened on itself and a breeze of comfort, home and safety overwhelmed me. It was the day I was born. “

- Day 2 - Date :  12th of February, 2018. Entry : Born from the ashes like the red furred phoenix. “ The day I was born. I have, had no memories what happened before, nor could I tell my name or day of my birth. I had a white void inside of my head, thousands of knives piercing my brain every time I tried to remember what happened. It was like I had no past, nothing. Only remaining thing of my past was two permanently inked tattoo on my nape. “Oh Yansu” above the barcode and 940412″ under it.” “ The man, who opened his door for the poor orphan gave him a new life. He took him under his wing and showed the light and the dark of this never ending circle called life. He gave him a meaning of live and in return he got full dedication and respect. The man gave him family he ached for. Being only 12 years old, he never understood the true purpose of his existence, but the man gave him one. “ “ Time flew as fast as the birds, I grew up. I hated myself, I hated myself to the point I tried to end this misery called life, I tried to return back where I came from - the sky. I still look at my wrist, at those deep, long, cut scars never faded; it stayed as a reminder of what I used to be. I grew up still being sickly and skinny kid, never able to do anything right. With more years, came more training and my weak body wasn’t able to keep with the harsh conditions. I recall their words like it was permanently crawled in my soul “a disappointment”, “an error of nature”, “good for nothing scam”. Kids were mean, kids are always mean, and they do not think twice when they throw those harsh words at someone else, those daggers flying to the innocent poor souls. It hurt me, it hurt me deeply. Not only I was already a shy and quiet kid, those words, those daggers piercing my back, made me realize that in this whole world only you and you only can be trustworthy, making me close myself for anyone. Forever…or so I thought.” “ He came like a wrecking ball, literally. When I wasn’t expecting it, the taller elf boy suddenly appeared in my life. On one side I was grateful to him, he was the only one keeping me safe, sane, on the other side…no one knew Tybalt the way I did and Tybalt…well he was a disaster. Born being as tall as an Eiffel tower, he was also as clumsy. Most of the time it was him getting into the trouble and me, being his loyal companion, being pulled in with him. It was fun. Tybalt’s bubbly personality, made me open up to him, made me trust him and that one eventful day we gave each other a promise. A permanently craved cross in the skin, a reminder of the deep and loyal friendship, deeper than any bond. We weren’t / aren’t only best friends, we are brothers. Being the same age, more or less, having the same purpose, made us inseparable. We grew up hip by hip, together earning our respectful positions in the gang – him becoming a  high ranked general, but me…well, I became an ace.”

- Day 3 - Date :  13th of February, 2018. Entry : Chapter I , the flowers of flesh and blood. “ An ace, sounds so fancy doesn’t it? Such a pretty name, such a horrible meaning. Who else was worthy of the title? Who else had lost their humanity on their way to the success? Me and me only. That small, yet pathetic thread of humanity that I kept holding onto, I ripped it apart and let my darkness slowly consume me - my body, my heart, my soul until there’s nothing left. Parts of Oh Yansu are still living in me, but he’s in a deep slumber, unable to ever wake up from. “S. A. Yan. My name is S. A. Yan”, I told the boss, the same person, who saved me from my old life, as he gave me the title, as he saw me as something, someone powerful, fierce. He had asked me “why?” and I suddenly answered, “ I feel the greek god Ares, guiding me whenever I go. It was him who visited my in my dreams and gave me this strength, I am Son of Ares, Yansu,” Of course, the old man laughed at such clever response from such a kid, yet I knew he never saw me as one, he saw the true potential I had, he simply guided me on the right road.” “I never understood where I went wrong. From a shy, kind-hearted child to such  monster. Yes, I have heard it many times. Yansu- the monster. At first it bothered me, my first slaughter was so popular, it reached outside of the gang, yet the years passed by and I learned how to look at indifferently. Look at everything differently. I grew to love the beautiful color of blood, the sound of gun piercing the flesh or knife going through it, a pleasant melody to my ears. Tho pain came, it never bothered me, as if I could get shot and still stand up, walk to the enemy and kill it. Pain was an absent feeling too. In mere months, my whole self was replaced by someone I do not know anymore, an emotionless beast, ready to kill, to pounce it’s prey and slowly devour it piece by piece. There isn’t such thing as love, as sadness, as happiness in my dictionary. Only a never ending void of nothingness.” “ Maybe it was the boss’s death that sent me there where I am now, maybe it was the life overall. He was a father for me I never had, I swore with my life to be dedicated to him, and my loyalty went so deep, the same was for his child. His next in line was as important as his father, more or less, he was still the king of them. It was funny how the tanned male became the king of the damned. “ “ And here I am now. Working in an bar, doing simply a regular job, yet it had a deeper purpose. Having lost emotions, my life became dull. Even the blood didn’t excite me anymore. Losing feelings was easy, gaining them..not so easy. But standing behind that bar and observing people, their interactions, their feelings, laughter and overwhelming auras, it was like watching a favorite movie and living along the favorite character. Maybe it was a way how I tried to find my humanity, a way to survive in this world.” “ “A scholar, who has never got a proper education. “ “An athlete, who has never got a proper training.” “A friend, who has never had any feelings.” as once someone told me. Part of it was truth, part of it was lies. And i am so deep into my own lies I don’t remember the truth. Who am I? What is my purpose? Why am I here? Those are hard questions with one simple answer. I am Oh Yansu. I am born to take lives. I was born to kill and kill will I  do. “

Laying next to the red, leather diary, lays another time-worn sheet of paper. Many lines decorated the words, as if someone was desperately trying to erase the written words : Likes : Cryptic codes, Classical music ( good for relaxing), Dogs, more like wolves, GLOCK 17 ( despite being plastic, the pistol feels good in my palm), Blood, Moon, Snow, Mixing drinks. Pain. Dislikes: Ugly scar on my lip, Nothing else I can think of. Amnesia Ps. I guess I have lost ability to dislike something.

[storiesonthewall]

Chapter 1

Allegory sat up in bed with a cold sweat, his breathing heavy as if he had just run for miles. He stayed there a few moments wondering what it was that had haunted him in his sleep. He knew it was a battle between two mages, but did not know who or where they were. For that matter, he did not recognize where he was at the immediate moment either.

He moved to get out of bed and stood upright. He felt slight pains in his body as he struggled to land the maneuver, but accomplished it nonetheless. There were a few bandages as well as cuts and bruises, but nothing horribly disfiguring. As he looked up from his arms, he finally noticed the room in which he was standing. It was covered in a plethora of flowers as well as potion bottles, a mortar and pestle, and several other objects of pastel colors decorating the interior of the room. If he didn’t know better, he could swear he was in a girl’s bedroom.

But who was he to know better? He could not remember who he was outside of his name. He made his way to the mirror near the door. The edges were covered in dried flowers along the frame. He stared into the new face that looked back.

“Allegory Evenstar…” he muttered to himself as he continued to stare into the gray eyes that looked back at him.

From his reflection, he appeared to be a half human, half elf  with a height of about 6 feet and well built with a fair amount of tone. His hair was long, yet messy with a blend of black and white due to his mixed heritage. Around his eyes were dark, branching black tattoos. The one around his left eye descended toward his jaw while the one around his right seemed to surround the side of the eye. However, none of these traits were diminished with his pale complexion. 

He sighed loudly as he tried to remember who he was. He spun from the mirror in frustration. When his eyes crossed the threshold of the bed he had awoken on, he froze as it was almost completely soaked in dried blood. On an otherwise ordinary day, the modest wooden bed would be decorated with more cute flowers and light colors. But today, the floral patterns of the blanket were seemingly lost to the sea of blood upon it. He walked toward it and placed his hand upon the bed as if to investigate.

Allegory was so lost in thought that he was not able to hear the door creak open behind him. What caught his attention was the sound of silver shaking nervously on porcelain. He turned around slowly and was met with the frightened gaze of a young woman holding a tray of tea. But her eyes were wide with fear, or perhaps embarrassment. It was then that Allegory felt a breeze near his genitals that led him to realize that his reflection a moment ago had no clothes on.

His face immediately grew bright red as he quickly struggled to grab a blanket to cover himself with from the bed. The sheet was tucked tighter than he expected, causing him to lose his balance on the railing and fall face first over the bed. His head collided with the dresser and he was out cold once more.

When he awoke this time, the girl was tending to his bandages. He jumped to cover himself again, but realized he was once more in the bed.

“You should be more careful! You just recovered from a horrible injury. You shouldn’t be walking around. Although I am puzzled why your wounds healed so quic-” she tried to finish, but she was interrupted herself by another guest at the door. It was an old man who appeared to be oddly energetic.

“Oh dear boy! When I heard the commotion in here, I believed you had finally regained consciousness, and here you are! My dear Tira, your talents are as remarkable as ever.” the old man almost sang as he wrapped an arm around the girl named Tira.

The old man was a lanky gentleman with a slight hunch, but his energy betrayed his looks. He wore brown suspenders on his brown slacks to hold his pants up around the bottom of his white billow button-up shirt. His hair was short and gray, and barely fading to where his scalp could almost be seen. And yet, despite his looks, his smile was wide and he seemed to be filled with joy.

“Grandfather, he’s still recovering, but I don’t think-” she barely managed say before she was interrupted yet again.

“Oh it’s such a wonderful day, children! So much to do to prepare for the festivities! I hope you’ll pardon me as I go attend to the planning!” he said in a lively manner as he sped out the room.

Tira continued to change his bandages in silence as Allegory watched. He took a moment to look up at her. She was a young human girl, no older than 23, with straight dark red hair and almost doll-like skin. She only stood at about 5 ¼ feet tall and was very small. She was sporting a dirty apron on to pof her yellow shirt and dirt stained pants. She looked back at him with her light brown eyes, and let out a gentle smile. Allegory couldn’t help but smile back.

“It’s nice to meet you Tira. I’m Allegory.”

“Hello, Allegory. It’s a pleasure. I’m still relieved to see you are still with us today. You gave us quite the fright last night.”

Allegory paused for a moment. “I’m sorry, but I don’t recall. What happened last night?”

“I suppose it’s only natural that you’d be confused. Whatever happened to you was not pretty. My grandfather, the blacksmith’s son, and myself saw a streak of light hit the ground just outside of town. When we went to go see what it was, we just found you lying in a large crater. You had massive cuts and a couple broken limbs, and even fragments of wood embedded in your body. The doctor did what he could, and I did my best to tend to your wounds, but we expected you to pass away.”

She eyed him carefully. “However, your recovery rate is astounding. You landed here 3 days ago on the verge of death and I found you standing up in minimal pain. Not even my best healing poultices are capable of that. What is your secret, Allegory?”

“I…I don’t know” he stammered. “I can’t really remember anything except my name. But I’m very much indebted to you for bringing me back here and tending to me.”

“That’s unfortunate.” She commented as she replaced the final bandage. “Would you like to see where we found you? Maybe that will jog some memories of yours? You seem to be well enough to move at least, so as long as I watch over you, you should be ok.”

Allegory stood up and bowed as he dressed in an outfit her grandfather provided. Luckily this one did not have suspenders, but simply trousers with a button up billowy shirt and a humble cloak. They made their way out her door. The quiet village seemed abuzz with people running back and forth while others celebrated in the streets. Empty tables were being lined up in front of every vendor as tablecloths were draped over each one. Allegory was stopped by several other people who wanted to pat him on the back, offer him a pint, and invite him to celebrate with them. He kindly waived them off as he made his way toward the edge of town with Tira.

“What is going on today?” Allegory asked while surveying the rest of the town.

“Oh, it’s a wonderful story!” Tira spoke loudly as she let out a happy bounce. “Let me tell you on the way.”

Allegory wasn’t sure why, but he felt a sense of dread as she began her story. The rim of his crater could be seen on the horizon. The sheer size of the hills caused his worry to grow even greater as they journeyed on.