#ancient wip alert

[bluecoffeebeanz]

modern au where Aki’s swords are just wall decor 🥲

[windyengel]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Every bat has a cat.

There’s an old phrase in Gotham: every Bat has a Cat.

Like most things whispered through Gotham’s smog, it’s only mostly untrue. Technically, the only Bat who ever really had a Cat was Batman himself—and even that’s been more of a tug-of-war than a love story. Not for lack of effort on Catwoman’s part. She’s tried everything: seduction, threats, borderline kidnapping. At one point, she swore she’d adopt all of Batman’s kids just to spite him. She’s teamed up with the Birds of Prey—where a few of the Bat-daughters moonlight—and once even tried to snatch up Little Timothy Drake back when he was still Robin, dangling the offer of being her “pet stray.” It didn’t take. Timmy was too invested in feathered spandex and daddy issues.

And then there was that… incident with Nightwing. But Gotham doesn’t talk about that. Gotham forgets. Gotham represses.

Still, the saying stuck around, mostly as a joke. A rite of passage, the locals would wink: “Once the birds become Bats, they’ll find their Cat.” Like puberty, but with more rooftop flirting and potential felony charges.

It was all fun and folklore—until it wasn’t.

No one really knows when the joke stopped being a joke. When the line between myth and prophecy started to blur. All anyone can remember is the night it finally got everyone’s attention.

It happened at the grand reopening of the Gotham Museum, debuting a new exhibit on Ancient Sumerian artifacts. Bruce Wayne showed up with two-thirds of his grim duckling trio—Tim and Damian in tuxedos, sulking appropriately (Jason, the other brooding duckling has refused to come, and everyone knew Duke and Dick to be too much of sunshine boys to be part of the brooding bunch). The opening night was invitation-only, with patrons shuffled between exhibits like a very wealthy cattle drive: first Sumerian, then Medieval, then an optional wine bar where the Chardonnay was too warm.

It was during one of these exhibit rotations that Tim saw it. A flicker. A whisper of motion at the corner of his eye. Something feline, something familiar, slipping back into the shadows of the Sumerian wing.

He didn’t hesitate. He turned to Bruce and Damian, voice clipped and sharp.

“Catwoman’s here.”

As soon as Tim muttered the alert, the Bat Family trio slipped into action with the kind of silent efficiency that only years of crimefighting, trauma bonding, and tactical group chats could provide.

Bruce gave a curt nod. “We’re changing. Now.”

It took them less than five minutes to disappear from the gala and reappear as the Bat, Red Robin, and the Robin—silent shadows in kevlar and purpose. They moved through back corridors, slipping past distracted security and tipsy patrons, until they reached the Sumerian exhibit once more.

Only this time, the lights were off.

Tim frowned behind his mask. “That's not ominous at all.”

“Should we announce ourselves?” Damian asked, already reaching for his sword.

“No,” Bruce answered curtly, gesturing for silence.

That’s when the voices drifted through the shadows. Muffled, conversational, and—oddly—playful.

“I dunno, Kitty,” a teen male voice said, exasperated but not particularly hurried. “Mama said not to overindulge, and we already got most of the artifacts we wanted.”

Tim blinked. Mama? Oh great. A new Cat-themed villain with actual parental boundaries.

“Sure,” replied a teen girl, voice bright with amusement. “But look at this diamond, Stray. Tell me it’s not gorgeous. Wouldn’t it look perfect in our collection?”

There was a dramatic sigh, the kind of sigh that implied someone had already lost this argument many times before.

“Mmhhmm... you know what? Fine. What’s one more diamond in the bag?”

That was their cue. The trio advanced, silent as breath, until they reached the edge of the display hall and got their first clear look at the culprits.

It… wasn’t Catwoman.

It was a girl, sure—dressed in what looked like a Catwoman suit, but styled after a tuxedo cat, complete with white accents at her gloves, boots and torso. Her partner, taller and broader, wore a sleeker suit—blacker than night and painted to his skin, save for white hands and feet—and had a calm posture that said yes, I do this a lot and no, I’m not impressed by any of you. Both wore green-tinted goggles that glowed faintly in the dark, and both had visible tufts of snow-white hair peeking from their hoods.

Tim stared. “Okay, so… not Catwoman.”

“No,” Bruce confirmed, grim.

Damian narrowed his eyes. “They are amateurs.”

“Amateurs who just stole a priceless diamond,” Tim muttered. “And called it ‘pretty.’”

Bruce’s jaw tightened. “We move. Now.”

Batman dropped down in front of the display case like thunder in a cape, his shadow stretching long and ominous over the marble floor.

Red Robin and Robin flanked him a beat later, dramatic and ready—Tim in full tactical mode, Damian practically vibrating with the urge to stab something.

“Step away from the artifacts,” Batman growled.

The two teens froze mid-theft. The girl blinked behind her green goggles. The boy raised an unimpressed brow that none of them could see but everyone could feel.

“Oh no,” the girl deadpanned, dramatically clutching the diamond to her chest. “It’s the law.”

“Panic,” the boy muttered with a lazy smirk.

“You’re trespassing on federal property,” Batman continued, all gravel and menace. “Surrender. Now.”

“Hmm,” the girl—Kitty—tilted her head. “No thanks.”

“Yeah,” the boy—Stray, apparently—shrugged. “We’re kind of indoor ferals. Surrendering isn’t in the skill set.”

Tim lunged first. He was fast, calculated, and nearly caught her.

Nearly.

Kitty somersaulted backward over a Sumerian statue with all the grace of an Olympic gymnast raised by a jungle cat. She landed en pointe on the exhibit railing, wiggled her fingers in a “ta-ta” motion, and vanished into the shadows like smoke.

Damian growled and went after Stray. “I will neuter you.”

“Big words, Bird Boy,” Stray laughed, ducking and weaving as Damian’s staff sliced through empty air. “But you gotta catch me first.”

Batman threw a batarang—clean, perfect arc, museum-quality aim.

It bounced off the floor as Stray backflipped over it, landing in a low crouch. “Mama warned us about this. Rule number one: Don’t play fetch with the Bat, you aren't a dog, you are a cat and cats has stabdards.”

“Not that she has anything to talk about” answer Kitty, sitting over a display. “She is the first one who plays cat and mouse with him”

Tim leapt from above, a textbook ambush.

Kitty twisted in midair, caught his cape mid-descent, and used it to swing him into a wall.

“Ow,” Tim muttered from the floor, sprawled in an undignified tangle of limbs and regrets. “That’s—okay. That’s fair.”

“Gotta admit,” Kitty said, lightly jogging backward while juggling the diamond between her hands, “you guys are way more coordinated than the usual mall cops.”

“But you still can’t catch us,” Stray added cheerfully, cartwheeling away from Damian’s latest sword swipe and Batman batarang. “Seriously, has anyone ever told you three you try really hard?”

“They’re cute,” Kitty said with mock affection. “Like, ‘aw, they think they’re scary’ cute. Specially the little one, you think I can add him to my display? I always wanted a bird”

“I call dibs on the one who smells like coffee!!”

Batman’s eyes narrowed. “Who trained you?”

They shared a glance. Then, in perfect unison:

“Mama did.”

Robin skidded to a stop, scowling. “You mean Catwoman.”

Stay grinned, sharp and smug. “We call her Mama. You probably call her when you're lonely.”

“Ooooh,” Kitty winced. “He’s gonna stab you for that.”

“Let him try.”

Another dive. Another swipe. Another miss.

They danced around the trio like mischievous spirits in catsuits, leaping, tumbling, and disappearing behind columns and curtains, always just out of reach.

By the time security finally wandered in—late, confused, and holding tiny flashlights—the Sumerian wing looked like someone had hosted a parkour-themed wedding in it.

The only thing left of the mysterious teens?

A single calling card, perched atop the display case like a signature.

It was shaped like a white paw print.

Tim picked it up and read aloud, “From Mama’s kittens, with love.”

Damian scowled. “I hate cat rogues.”

Batman just stared at the shadows, his voice low. “She trained them.”

“Yeah,” Tim muttered, rubbing his sore shoulder. “And apparently, she trained them too well.”

[tarta-de-limon]

WIP! (Finished drawing here: [x] !!!!

I don't like drawing very complicated outfits, but I saw a suit in Pinterest and I thought OH, DAMIAN WOULD LOOK SO CUTE WEARING THIS!!!

I felt like a grandmother then, omg 😭👐‼️

The I added some lore, and the reason why I'm making this post is just that, because I'm having troubles with the lore!!! I mean, I won't make a comic but I like to think about lore when I do a fanart of a character in other context.

I thought maybe Talia and Bruce had a romance and Talia was actually a witch??? Not a witch, but, idk, something something with magic???

Kinda like Dark knights of steel where people don't accept people who have special abilities? And the Al Ghuls are an ancient family of-

Forget it because while I was writing this I just had an idea, the Al Ghuls are dragons, and the amulet Damian has in his neck? Is so he remains human because he can't control it.

If I'm honest this all started because I was thinking about Jason. I think I like the idea of him not actually dying and being trapped in his coffin, because then he will desperately try to ring the bell to alert others he's alive but his bell is broken or something and now he's traumatized.

But WHY did he die??? Like I can't think of what the joker would be. A monster? A normal person? Idk 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

And all this for nothing because I'm not even writing or making a comic about this I just like yapping

[domesticandlovingmonsters]

Guard Captain Aram (M) x F!Reader (wip)

Because I feel bad with how long this is taking to come out, and I am currently stuck on how to proceed, I'm posting this as is.

I intend to complete it annd post it as a whole, but since I'm stuck, you got this. Consider this as a type of two-parter until I can work out how to write someone having a date and how conversations work. I swear I'm a good writer, guys!!! I know how sentences and dialogue works.

Words: 9.9k

Theme/Plot:  (Fantasy/Medieval)  You're a merchant, new to the city looking to start a business from the ground up. Having purchased a cheap, run-down building as your starting point, you work hard to make something of the little things you have. But after a string of robberies, you find yourself as the centre of the Guard Captain's attention.

The rain came down in pouring sheets. Deafening you inside your own dwelling as a year's worth of rain pummeled the tiled roof.

Thunder clapped overhead so close to the city roofs that the window panels shook in their frames.

It was a gloomy day. One that made the hours in the shop drag by at a snail's pace. Not a soul was out today. For good reason, or else they’d risk being washed away by the water flowing down the street drains. Thankfully, there was alot of old stock you needed to organize and catalog to keep you busy.

The storm was a blessing in disguise. Despite the chilly weather.

With the lack of customers to keep an eye on and take commissions for, it allowed you to tune up the shop within your actual work hours. And not drip over into the late afternoon like you dreaded.

And with the ample amount of downtime came the close inspection of how your little, ancient store held up in such a harsh rainstorm.

The last of your money had gone into buying this place. It was a cheap sale and the reasons for it were obvious. A small shop with a small dwelling connected to the back of it for residential purposes.

The paint on the front was peeling and much of the wooden beams needed some love and care. The windows had needed to be removed and replaced; they had been so grimey and cracked that it made the store look sickly from the outside. And dark and gloomy within.

Not to mention the rot within the wood in some places. Which had soaked up that lingering few coins you had after the sale. But it was better than leaving the place smelling like decaying wood and having openings for rats.

The roof seemed fine, the tiles were covered in moss and some were cracked, but you didn’t see any damage other than age.

It has been months since you bought it and this had been the first real change in sunny weather, so you were walking around the place constantly looking for leaks.

So far, nothing splashed against the wooden floor. Your little shack was holding up nicely under the rain, even if the walls groaned rather worryingly whenever the wind rushed through the city streets.

The shop was nothing spectacular, you knew that. But it was yours. And it was a much nicer place than the roadside stall you used to man while you traveled.

You glanced out the window as a flash of white light illuminated the dreary street outside. And winced at the image of you and your old horse and wagon in such weather.

Many times you had been caught out in storms like this. Losing stock to the water or your wagon’s wheels getting sucked into the muddy roads.

Looking back into your warm, dry shop; a new type of appreciation came to you with your decision to settle down. And you took a deep breath of dusty, humid air and smiled.

Your shop.

It still felt weird to say. But it was still just as exciting.

Over the thunder and tumbling rain, your shop-door’s bell chimed. Alerting you to two customers that all but barrelled into the dry space.

They were soaking. But smiled cheerfully as you greeted them. One had an umbrella that looked like the wind had torn it asunder and both their hoods were raised low over their faces. Leaving only their wide smiles for you to see.

“We are so sorry for dragging water in here.” One said, a woman. Rubbing her arms to retain some heat beneath the thick cloak. “But we’re in need of some alchemy ingredients, if you have any. You’re the closest store to ours and we’re low on some things to make cold remedies.”

The other customer, with the torn umbrella, looked around your small store with a grin. “You’ve really spruced this place up. It’s so much nicer here than what I last remember. The last owner did not care for this building at all.”

You smiled as their hoods were lowered. You recognized them as the potions store owners down the street. You spoke briefly once. They were nice people. But very busy. And their names eluded you, unfortunately.

“Welcome! And don’t worry about the water, it’s unavoidable at the moment. I think I tracked in half the realm’s mud this morning. Please, come in. What did you need exactly? I have a few stocks that might be what you need.”

The woman huffed with visible relief and hurried forward to your counter. Where you withdrew some small boxes of bottled ingredients and jars of various substances.

You didn’t sell anything but the basic materials. Your shop was more a general store than a particular theme. You still weren’t sure what you wanted to be in the city.

You’ve only ever known what you could carry. On the road, certain ingredients didn’t travel well. And jewelry or fine goods made you a target for bandits.

Here, within the safety of the city, you could be any type of trader you wanted. You just still weren’t sure what niche you wanted to be.

But your general goods were exactly what these two were looking for. And your eyes widened in surprise when they asked to buy your entire stock of your basic ingredients.

“I know it’ll put you out, but we’ll pay you an extra sum on top of the sale. Our next shipment of this isn’t for another week, and we have so many commissions coming in for cold remedies.” The man said. Already pulling out a large coin purse from his belt. “And you’ll be doing us a huge favor. If you need anything-”

“It’s a deal.” You said, waving away the man’s pleading stare. “We’ve got to look after each other after all. I was going to offer a discount since you’re buying such a large amount.”

The bell over your door chimed and you shifted behind your counter so you could see around the couple. A young woman shuffled into the store. Her eyes looked around the shelves with interest and a thin cloak was wrapped around her shoulders.

“I’ll be with you in a moment!” You called out to the woman. Seeming to startle her. But she smiled, it felt a little forced, and moved deeper into your store. Her eyes darted around and then back to you.

You were about to say something else when the potion’s woman handed you a sum of coins. “I insist. I know how frustrating it can be to be out of stock. Particularly ingredients like this. Please, take the extra sum. You’re doing us a huge favor with-”

The woman’s partner glanced over his shoulder as the woman at the back moved quickly towards the door. Her shoulders were hunched as she braced for the cold water to hit her as she opened the door.

“Hey! You, wait!” He shouted but the woman was already sprinting out the door. Almost slipping on the wet pavement outside. The potion’s man swore and handed his partner the purse. “That girl is the one who stole from us last week. Get the guards!”

Before you could react, the man was barreling out of your store and charging out into the rain. His partner seemed just as surprised as you but quickly pocketed the purse and looked at you.

“Do you have a way to summon the guards directly here?” You shook your head. Your heart was pounding in your chest. “I have one in my store. I’ll go call them. See if you can find out if that woman stole anything from you. I’ll be right back.”

The woman left her crate of goods behind as she hurried out of your shop. You were quick to follow, but went to where you last saw the woman browsing.

Your eyes flew from object to object. Taking note of any spots that seemed to have shifted or had missing stock.

Everything seemed fine. Until you noticed your small display of wands had been touched. These weren’t like the wands that witches and warlocks used. But temporary magical items that did various things depending on their make.

You had ordered these as a step into selling magical merchandise. To see how well they sold here. Kids adored the ones that created bubbles of light. And a few people purchased the design that acted as a quill that would write for you without you touching it.

You had recently restocked the display with other types. And there were two that were missing.

One was a water-make. Which either made water or removed it. Not enough to drain a lake or a pool, but a few buckets could be filled or emptied if needed.

And the second was a fire starter. Which spat sparks that would harmlessly bounce off of skin or clothes, but would light a small fire on even the most water-bogged logs or extinguish it.

You sighed. Already understanding why these particular items were stolen.

You’ve dealt with enough desperate people to know when it was necessity and not greed that pushed a person to steal.

You bit your lip. These wands weren’t expensive and were cheap stock to order.

Maybe if I’m quick I can stop the potions woman from calling the guards. You thought. But then you reminded yourself that the woman who stole from you, had also stolen from them. And over the first few months of owning and stocking this store, you’ve had more than your fair share of robberies and stolen items. If word got out that you let a person steal from you, this could spiral into something worse.

The best you could do for them was not press charges if the person is found.

You sighed again. Heavier than the last and moved through your store to get your cloak.

But on your way to the back, past a small lock-box display of jewelry, you noticed the glass lid had been pried open. The magical seal had been expertly dispelled and one of your silver rings, one that created a bubble of small protection, was missing.

You swore under your breath. Disappointment flooding through you.

Now you had to continue with the guards and hope they found the person.

That ring was an expensive item. The enchantment was a common one, but the ring amplified the bubble to be the size of a house. Something that was incredibly hard to do and would have taken alot of material to make such an enchantment safe and usable.

Hence why it was in a lock-box, under magical protection, and worth a decent sum of coins. Another one of your stretches into unknown territory with sales and items.

It was nothing so expensive that it would put a target on your store. But it was one of your pricier items, one that a customer had been eyeing off last time they passed through.

“They just had to steal that.” You grumbled. Slapping the lid back down on the lock-box. The seal buzzed as the box was closed again, letting you know the magic was once again activated. You gave it an experimental tug on the lid and when it didn’t open, without your key, you were happy enough to leave it.

You retrieved your cloak from the back of the shop and exited your store. Making sure the door was locked and hurried down the street to the potions store.

You were near drenched when you slipped into the two story building. But the moment your foot stepped over the threshold, you were flooded with warmth and your clothes tickled with magic that left you dry and comfortable.

You definitely needed that enchantment on your front door.

From behind the many shelves, the potions woman appeared, looking flustered as she hurried towards you. “The guards are on their way. Did that wretched thing take anything?”

“Some low magic wands and an enchanted ring.” You grimaced. “I don’t care for the wands, so much. But that ring is expensive. As long as I get that back, I’ll let it slide.”

The woman scoffed and gestured for you to follow her, leading you to the back of the store where a pot of tea and some small biscuits were waiting. “That woman stole two potions of healing and an iron-bark elixir from us. I know times are tough. And the potions were only small portions, not worth alot. But the iron-bark elixir is a very slow and ingredient heavy process. We can only make so many a month and they're in high demand with the guards and travelers. If she only stole the potions, we wouldn’t have pushed so hard to find her. But the elixir alone can fix us up for an entire month.”

Your eyes widened. “Those elixirs are that expensive?”

“Ours are, yes.” The woman said, a little proudly, as she poured you a cup of tea. “Ours doesn’t just give you thick skin and more strength, we’ve perfected a way that the aftereffect of the elixir doesn’t put you in a bed for a day. It’ll affect you for a few hours at best after you use the elixir but unlike our competitors iron-bark, you can get up and get ready for the day after a good night’s sleep.”

You whistled in appreciation for such craftsmanship. “That’s incredible. I can understand why she would try to take it then. Sell it off for some quick coin.”

The woman nodded. Sipping her tea after putting some honey in it and stirring. “I grew up very poor. I used to steal bread and clothes to get by. But stealing potions like ours? You put yourself at such risk for it. Even your ring! The wands can be overlooked. But something like that is just…silly.”

You stirred some honey into your own cup and allowed the conversation to fall away as you sipped. Thankfully, the potions man appeared in the doorway. Looking winded and red faced. “I couldn’t find her. The damn woman gave me the slip.”

“Better you don’t approach her, love.” The woman said, with a soft smile. “Let the guards deal with her. They’re on their way.”

The man nodded. Taking a deep breath that his body obviously needed. He looked at you and offered a smile. “I’m sorry I couldn’t catch her. Did she steal anything?”

You explained the stolen stock and the man tsked. Muttering about the lack of respect for shopkeepers; “Especially one such as yourself. You’re just starting out! I recall my first few years as a storekeeper, my Gods, the ledger was never full enough. And every piece of missing stock was precious.”

You nodded, chuckling along with the man as he shook his head. “Well, at least our sale will help me out until I can get a replacement or the ring is found. I’ll bring the stock over once we’ve spoken with the guards. I didn’t think to bring it over just now.”

The two waved you off. Saying they trust you enough to not skip their deal because of a distraction like this.

The three of you chatted idly while you waited for the guards to arrive.

And when they did, you immediately recognized three amongst them.

One was a tall elf woman by the name of Yesrie. Dark hair with sharp eyes but a warm smile.

The second was a human man named Smith. You never got his first name because everyone called him by his second. He had been in his first year in the Guard when you arrived; eager to help and prove himself, he had taken your reports on missing items like a personal attack. And hunted them down like he was the one who owned them.

Then the third, the Guard Captain’s right hand, Briar. A green lizardman built like a stone barn. They were a stoic type of individual. Had a sharp tongue when it came to humbling their guards but professional when it came to their work.

They all greeted you a little more warmly than they did with the pair beside you.

Your first few months here allowed you to become quite friendly with the Guard. Not by any intent of your own, but your new store in town got more attention than you bargained for. And not in a good way. Stolen merchandise meant the Guard got involved. And it happened so often within a few weeks that the Guard Captain had stepped in.

And with that sort of attention watching your store, the thieves dissipated quickly.

“(Y/N), why am I not surprised your shop was involved?” Briar asked, crossing their arms over their armor plated chest. Their iron gauntlets clinked against the metal. “I had hoped that the call meant a different store.”

You shrugged, sighing dramatically. “It wouldn’t be a Thursday without something of mine going missing.”

Smith and Yesrie laughed. Briar’s reptilian face rarely showed much emotion other than a hard stare. But you glimpsed their scaly lips twitch in amusement.

“Indeed. You know the drill, then. What happened? Every little detail, as you know, helps us out.”

You explained the events that transpired within your store. Explaining why the potion-store owners were involved, which gave them a chance to explain how they recognized the person who stole from you.

Briar nodded along, taking in everything you said. Yesrie commented they were the guard that took the potion store’s report and that this thief was targeting many stores in the district, not just a few.

Smith was writing down notes in a small notebook that was the size of his palm. Asking the usual questions like the woman’s hair color or description. Which you had to let the potion shop owners answer, because you didn’t really take notice of the woman.

Then when you got to the descriptions of the stolen items, Briar’s tail twitched in irritation. Nothing directed at you, you found out. “Well, that complicates things. Stolen magical items of significant power require a formal report issued by the owner. Meaning, (y/n), you’re gonna have to go to the Guard House and fill one out.”

You groaned in annoyance. You had to fill out a report once before. It took forever. And you really didn’t feel like going across the district to the Guard House in this weather.

But if you want that ring back, or at least be compensated for its loss, you’ll need to go.

“I’m guessing I’ll need the paperwork I received for purchasing the item to sell?” You asked and Briar nodded.

“Proof of purchase or the license which came with the item. Anything that has the item’s description and magic detailed alongside your ownership. And it’s something you need to do at the House, too. We can’t issue you one, since you need a scribe to sign off on it and witness you filling it out.”

“All that for a magical item?” The potions woman scoffed. “Damn, I’m happy we never got into that side of the business.”

You wish you could agree with her. But you were definitely going to make an adjustment to your stock and protection so you didn’t have to go through this again.

“Alright. Thank you for your time. Sorry you had to march through this weather for my store again.” You said. And Yesrie shrugged, glancing out the window as another flash of lightning lit up the dim street outside.

“The weather makes you appreciate the sunny days more. We’ll see you at the House, (y/n).” Yesrie replied. And the guards took their leave.

You soon followed suit. Promising the potion owners you would bring their merchandise around soon. But they waved you off. Telling you to deal with the reports and the guards first before worrying about them.

You were beginning to really appreciate them. And made sure to lower the price on anything the two needed in any later deals.

Back inside your shop you made quick work of finding the needed documents that involved any transaction or information of the ring.

Which you then wrapped up in a leather satchel that was worn and aged from many years on the road. An old trusty item you’ve carried with you everywhere before placing it in the drawer of your new work desk.

It would protect the documents from the rain and keep them nice and flat while you trekked the stormy streets.

You wrapped yourself up in as much water-proof clothing as you could. Your cloak was your best chance at keeping yourself dry but watching the sky still bucket down torrents of water, you doubted you’d stay warm for long.

As long as the documents were safe, you could endure the rain.

And walking through the streets was just about as miserable as you expected. You stuck to any type of cover you could as you walked. Storefront canopies or trees that were planted along the paths. The thunder felt like it was roaring directly in your ear as you braced against the chilling wind.

You wrapped your cloak tightly around you and pulled your hood down so low over your face you could only see the pavement in front of you.

Every glance up at where you were going was a risk of cold water trickling down your neck and into your warm clothes.

You zigged and zagged through the district until you came upon the large stone steps of the Guard House. The House itself was huge! Meant to house many of the district's officers and their cadets. This one also doubled as a school for fresh-faced persons looking to become a guard.

As you climbed the steps to the door, you could hear someone yelling at said cadets beyond the stone wall that secluded the training yards from the streets.

You grimaced at the thought of training in such weather.

As you stepped through the doors, the same magic from the potion shop passed over your clothes. However, this enchantment felt like it was spluttering. Parts of you were left dry while other sections were left merely damp.

You were warmer than before you stepped inside but your fingers still felt icy as you approached the receptionist at the desk.

You greeted them warmly and explained what you needed to fill out. And the receptionist motioned for you to walk down a hallway and then turn right, which would lead you to the scribes that would help you out.

You thanked her and headed in your pointed direction.

The House was bustling with activity. You passed many guards through the halls, swathed in armor and weapons. A few scribes hurried by and you even made room for a woman with a mean looking hound to pass you in the hall.

She thanked you as she kept the beast on a short leash. The hound didn’t pay you any mind so you knew it was more for your sense of space than the dog’s.

But you found the scribe room easily enough and the man behind the desk went through the process of the report.

It was a long document too. With a handful of pages that you needed to fill out and agree too. The scribe looked equally annoyed with the prospect, apparently he needed to go over it and sign off as you went. It would take time out of both of your afternoon’s. But he took you to the side to a desk so you could sit comfortably and fill it out.

Excusing himself and asking you to call him over when you got to a particular section before moving on through the document.

You hoped the scribe didn’t think your agitation was directed at him as you sighed and sat down. But you got to work, reading over the lengthy questions and paragraphs with a quill in your hand.

A few minutes later, Briar entered the room and went to the scribe desk, speaking softly. When the scribe nodded and disappeared through a door, their eyes passed over you once before snapping back as they spotted you. They came over to greet you. Their tail dripped a little with rainwater. “Ah, it’s good to see someone with initiative. You got here quickly.” Briar said, leaning against another desk to your left.

“Better to get it out of the way now than later.” You shrugged. “You wouldn’t have happened to stumble across my thief with my ring by chance? So I don’t have to do this?” You asked, hopefully. But Briar shook their head.

That twitch pulled at their scaly lips again as a hissing chuckle whistled through their sharp teeth.

“If only we were that lucky. I have to do my own paperwork about it, as well. I envy you. I’d rather do your documents than my own.” Like the scribe was summoned, he appeared and placed a thick folder of paper on the front desk. Briar thanked him gruffly and went over to scoop it up. Grumbling as he showed you the thickness of the folder. “See. No complaining from you about lengthy reports. I will probably beat you on every account.”

You laughed and nodded. “I do feel a little better about my report now. Thanks.”

“Here to help. Enjoy.” Briar said with a curt nod before leaving the room.

You refocused your attention on the documents in front of you. Calling over the scribe when he didn’t look too busy once you got up to the section he requested.

And while he looked over what you wrote and ensured everything was in order, you let your gaze wander. The scribe hall looked like a bustling library. Desks and chairs were scattered about the room. And behind the front desk were many, many towering shelves of books and scrolls.

Scribes appeared and disappeared behind each corridor of paper. Some carried in armfuls of paper or were discussing something with a guard.

It was all very busy here. But the chatter was rather quiet. You wondered if there was some sort of magic that kept the sound of the hustle and bustle at a low range.

“Scribe Harry, I was told that- Oh, (y/n), what are you doing here?” Your attention snapped to the door of the hall as your name was voiced.

Guard Captain Aram strolled over to where you were sitting. Making your heart skip a beat when he leaned over the back of your chair to inspect the report.

Aram was an orc with a heavy green complexion that contrasted the pale patches of skin on his body caused by vitiligo. His blonde hair was tied back in uniform to the neat standards of the Guard.

His tusks curved out from his lower lip, decorated by silver caps on the blunt tips. His thick arms were wrapped in thick leather that slid under a heavy metal chest piece with the Guard’s symbol carved into the steel. The patches on his shoulders displayed his rank, if the better armor and air of authority didn’t already display it.

“I was robbed again.” You sighed. Pushing down the sudden rush of nervousness as you turned your attention to the captain. “A magical item this time. Briar came and sorted it out and told me to come here.”

Aram’s brows knitted together and you could have sworn you saw a spark of amusement light in those beautiful emerald eyes. Before the stoic expression of a guard captain fell back into place. “Ah, yes, the grand paperwork involved with magic. I thought you said you wanted to keep simple stock for a time.”

You nodded. Having to pause your answer to thank the scribe as he pushed the report back to you to continue writing. “Yes. But a friend of mine had some stock they couldn’t move in the settlement nearby. So, I took it off their hands.”

“And then someone decided to take it from yours.” Aram said. He glanced over at the scribe as he moved some dropped off paperwork into the shelves behind him. “Hmm, this will go quicker if I take over for the scribes. The poor bastards have had their hands full recently.” Then Aram called out to the scribe nearby, Harry, who looked relieved when Aram explained he’d be taking over witnessing you finish the report.

“Do you mind if we do this in my office? The magic in here makes my ears ache.” Aram asked. And when you nodded, Aram escorted you through the building to his office. Which you had been in once before when Aram had taken over the investigation of why your store was being targeted so frequently.

He closed the door behind you and you took the offered seat in front of his desk. Which he then slid your seat closer to the desk and made space on the surface for you to start the next section of the report.

He moved your chair so effortlessly with you in it that it made your stomach flip a little giddily. But you hid your smile as you busied yourself with reading over the next section.

“I was recently thinking about you. And, uh, the reports you had to make on your store.” Aram said rather quickly, fiddling with some papers on his desk. “It’s been a while since your last break in. I thought my trick did the job, to be honest.”

“For a while it did.” You agreed. Pausing to write down the description of the ring. “The extra patrols you had around the place seemed to scare them off. And gave me enough time to better the security of my shop. I still spot Smith on occasion in the area. But he always seems busy. I hope you’re not working him too hard.”

Aram chuckled. Picking up a quill of his own and scribbling over some papers on his desk. “The boy is fine. He’s eager for the work. But, uh…” You tore your eyes off the paperwork long enough to see why Aram didn’t finish his sentence.

His eyes were narrowed and his lips were pursed in a poor attempt at looking angry, looking over your head to the windows behind you.

You turned your head. And you caught a glimpse of something quickly darting out of view of the office. The room was enclosed but anyone in the hallways had a clear view of you sitting at Aram’s desk. The Guard Captain grumbled and stood, clearing his throat as he flicked a small switch and curtains fell down over the windows leading to the corridor outside.

“Nosy bastards.” You heard Aram mutter. But you pretended not to hear him as he returned to his seat and continued working on whatever was in front of him. “I was going to say he wanted to be set in that district. Apparently, his aunt lives around there.”

“Aww, that’s sweet of him. I’ll be sure to annoy him any chance I get when I see him.” You said, refocusing on the paper in front of you. You reached the next spot the scribe had told you to call for him and offered the papers to Aram.

Who went over the report swiftly and then handed it back to you after he signed off on the part he needed too.

“A ring of protection, huh? That didn’t move at your friend's establishment?” Aram asked, surprised. And you shook your head, writing as you responded.

“Their town was going through a drought. Which is probably being washed downriver right now with this rain. But no one had the money to purchase a ring like that. I offered to buy it off them and then give them a percentage if I manage to sell it. We used to travel together before they bought their store. They helped me get my place. Since I had no idea how to purchase property.”

Aram made a thoughtful noise, watching you as you worked. “Why didn’t you buy a place outside the city? Probably would have been cheaper. And also get you a better place than that splinter shack.”

“Hey, that’s my splinter shack you’re insulting.” You playfully snapped. Which made the Guard Captain laugh. “But I wanted to try the city. I’ve never stayed in one for long. And I thought a change of lifestyle would be refreshing.”

“And is it refreshing?” Aram asked.

You paused to look up at him, smiling. “Well, the people are much more interesting.” You let the sentence hang in the air for a touch longer before continuing. “And there’s always something happening here. And the food! Oh my Lords, I’ve never had such a wide variety of food always available. Every morning I get a fresh coffee with a freshly baked bun. A much better change than living off of dried meats and stale bread with cheese.”

Aram grinned at that. His eyes seemed to sparkle in the candlelight. “So, you think you’ll stay here for good then. This string of robberies hasn’t scared you off?”

You scoffed lightly and shook your head. “I’ve fought off armed bandits and kobolds from my goods before. A few hooded figures isn’t going to scare me off. I’ve gotten too comfortable sleeping in an actual bed now to give it up.”

Your words seemed to widen Aram’s smile. “Well, good to hear. The city always needs more good people like you in it. It would be a shame to see you go.”

Something in the way Aram spoke made your pulse quicken. Or maybe how his fingers brushed over your hand as you handed him the documents again for him to look over.

Either way, you were suddenly very aware of how little room there was between the two of you. Even if the desk was large enough to sit such a big man behind it, it felt like Aram was close enough to touch.

And as you took back the paperwork, you thought it was silly of you to think that he was putting his hand directly so that your fingers brushed over his.

It didn’t stop you from feeling how warm his hand was. Nor notice how much larger his hand was compared to yours.

You felt your cheeks flush with heat and you tried very hard to concentrate on the papers in front of you.

It still took an hour to go over everything, but you managed to finish the documents required. Aram took it upon himself to file it away as soon as possible. And asked you a few more questions about the robbery before opening the door of his office for you.

“I’ll be in touch in a few days.” Aram said, leaning against the doorframe. “If we find anything, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Thank you for your time, Captain Aram.” You said and then added jokingly. “And I’ll be sure to let you know if something else goes missing from my store.”

Aram laughed. “Let’s hope that doesn’t happen.” Then he glanced to one of the nearby windows as a crash of thunder sounded overhead “Have you got a way of getting back to your store? It’s still pouring outside.”

You grimaced and a shiver ran over you at the thought of the walk back. It was later in the afternoon now. The sun wouldn’t be set yet, but with the dark clouds overhead and closing to sunset, it was already pretty dark outside.

“No. It’s not that far of a walk, though. I’ll be fine.” You lied. And knew Aram would know this was your attempt at being polite and not complaining.

Aram’s warm smile dimmed and he shook his head. “I’m not having you walk home in this. I’ll get someone to drive you back.”

Your eyes widened and you tried to make an excuse that would justify not needing a driver. But Aram caught sight of Smith walking past and called him over.

“Yes, Captain?” Smith said as he approached. Looking between you and Aram worriedly.

“Get a carriage and drive (y/n) back to her store. And no side stops on your way back, got it.” Aram said, his voice harsh with authority as Smith’s confusion turned into something close to amused glee. He nodded and then looked at you.

“Your chariot is this way, ma’am.” He said with a little more bravado than needed. And you looked at Aram with a joking glare.

“You’re really going to subject me to this?” You asked. And Aram’s stern facade broke with a smile.

“I’d rather not hear that you got washed away by a river on your way home. Get her home safe, Smith.” Aram said before closing the door and leaving you to a beaming Smith as you followed him through the House.

“So, what did you and the Captain talk about in there?” Smith asked. Wiggling his shoulders in a teasing manner as he led you out into an enclosed barn connected to the Guard House. Where a carriage was currently being connected to two brown horses.

“He was overseeing the report I needed to fill out about the ring.” You explained. Ignoring the tiny flush of embarrassment that crawled up your neck. “The scribes were busy and he had time.”

Smith blew a harsh breath out of his lips. “Puh-lease, the Captain never has time.” And then so quietly you almost missed it. “But that seems to change for you.”

You chose to ignore him and wait by the House doors while Smith spoke with the person hooking the animals up. He then waved you over and opened the carriage door for you.

“My Lady.” He bowed his head and you tsked playfully at him.

“Stop that. It’s embarrassing enough as it is. Being escorted back home by a guard.” You mumbled as you climbed inside. Which got you a laugh from Smith.

“Come on, enjoy it! How many times have you been safely escorted home like the rich folk? Beat on the roof if you need me to stop for anything, alright?”

Smith closed the door once you were comfortably seated and you heard him clamber onto the front of the carriage.

The carriage itself wasn’t anything extravagant. The seats were plush enough to stop you from sitting on hard wood and there was enough space to fit four people.

It still felt a bit excessive for only you to be in here. But at least you weren’t going to be walking in the rain.

Your body lurched a little as Smith urged the horses into moving. And soon enough the carriage was filled with the deafening roar of rain pelting the roof above you.

You felt bad for Smith sitting up front. You had glimpsed a small canopy over the driver's seat. But that would be very little protection against the storm as it whipped around him outside.

You sighed. Relaxing against the seat as you glanced through the fogged window to the passing streets.

They were mostly empty. Apart from a few store fronts preparing to close for the afternoon. And some carriages that trotted past.

You haven’t gotten to experience a carriage ride in the city yet. You’ve been so busy with the store that any luxuries you usually would have gotten with your money were forgotten. Or spent on the store itself.

It was kind of peaceful watching the city pass you by.

You would definitely be sending another bakery basket to Aram for this. He had enjoyed the first one you sent after he helped keep your store safe last time.

I’m not having you walk home in this.

His words bounced around in your head like an endless echo. And you found yourself smiling.

And the way he had put his hand in the path of yours? It made your heart skip just thinking about it.

You shook your head. Trying to scatter the thoughts that were attempting to wriggle into your mind.

“Oh, stop it.” You sighed to yourself. “He’s just making sure you’re safe. That’s his job after all.”

You knew you wanted it to be a lie the moment you said it.

But you refused to think of any other reason that Aram would be doing this. You didn’t need something like that in your life just yet. You were busy as it was.

But…A small voice whispered. You definitely need something like him. Even only for a night or two.

Your cheeks burned as the thoughts spiraled and you shook your head again. Refusing to let those thoughts get any more traction than they already have.

It…has been a long time. But you were a business woman now. You had more important things at this moment than scratching that itch. Once the store was a little more organized and things calmed down, then maybe, maybe, you’d think about it.

You sat in your hurricane of a mind as Smith drove through your district and finally came to a stop just outside your store.

You went to open the door but Smith was already there. Drenched from head to toe but all smiles, bowing his head dramatically.

“My Lady! A pleasant ride, I hope.”

“Oh my Gods, you poor thing. Get back as quickly as you can before you catch a cold.” You gasped as you slipped out of the carriage. Hurrying to the safety of your store front.

“I’m fine. Get inside! I’ll let the Captain know you’re safely at your castle.” Smith called over the rain. And you didn’t even bother retorting, merely stuck out your tongue at him as you waved him off.

You heard him laugh and watched through your store windows as the carriage pulled away and disappeared into the heavy sheets of rain.

~*~

A few days later, the bell over your door chimed as someone entered. You called out to the customer that you’d be with them shortly and finished what you were doing in the back before greeting them behind your counter.

“Aram!” You beamed as the Guard Captain approached you. “What a surprise! Good news? Or bad news?”

Aram made a face like he was deciding, jokingly clicking his tongue as he leaned his arms on your counter. Crossing them over each other and coming down to your eye height.

“Which do you want first?” He asked.

You pursed your lips, hopelessly ignoring how Aram’s gaze flicked to your mouth before returning to your eyes as you said, “Good news first.”

“We found the woman who stole your items. Your ring is being processed and looked over to ensure it hasn’t been tampered with. It’ll take a few days to get back to you.”

You sighed with relief. “That’s good. But…the bad news?”

Aram’s grin made his eyes crinkle adorably as he shuffled his weight on his feet. He cleared his throat and it felt like he was forcing his gaze to stay on you. “The bad news is that I lost a bet involving the case. And you unfortunately will be put on the spot as I ask you out to dinner.” He cleared his throat again and stood at attention in front of you. Your heart pounded in your chest as he swallowed hard and said. “Would you like to go out to dinner with me?”

It was almost adorable at how worried Aram looked as you stared up at him. And it was even more so when relief washed over his expression as you nodded.

Before you realized you were even replying, you had said yes. You laughed sheepishly, shaking your head. “You lost a bet and you were forced to ask me out to dinner?”

“I wouldn’t say forced. That makes it sound like I didn't want to.” Aram replied. Scratching the back of his neck, under the thick braid of blonde hair. “I want to take you to dinner. I have for a bit now. I just…things got in the way and I wasn’t sure if you would be interested in me and…I’m sorry. I’m rambling.” He cleared his throat again. “This is me asking you to dinner, sincerely.”

“What would have happened if you didn’t?” You asked.

“Probably be called a coward by my men.” Aram replied. “Or someone would have done it for me, I’m sure. Or somehow talked you into asking me out. I don’t know. They’re very nosy. Very much like a bunch of highschoolers.”

“But they gave you an opening to ask me out to dinner. So, I would forgive them.” You said with a chuckle. And Aram visibly relaxed with the sound. “When would you like to set this dinner? I’m free most afternoons. I’m sure it’s your schedule we have to work around.” You said teasingly. And Aram nodded.

“I’ll free up my night next Friday, if that’s ok with you? I know it’s a while away but this week is choked up with work already.” When you nodded, Aram’s smile broadened and your body became heated under his sparkling gaze. You both discussed a place to eat, but since you rarely went out other than cafes and small take-away establishments, Aram promised he’d surprise you with a brilliant place to dine. “I’ll pick you up around seven? If the rain hasn’t stopped by then, I’ll bring a carriage around for us to use.”

You sarcastically rolled your eyes, “Please do not make Smith drive us. That was torture last time.”

Aram laughed but shook his head. “No, no. I won’t be letting those vultures anywhere near our dinner. I promise.”

Once you confirmed again the time and date, Aram excused himself, having to continue his patrol around the district. And the moment he left, your heart soared with excitement at the thought of dinner with Aram.

~*~

Friday couldn’t come any quicker.

The rest of the week fell into a snail like pace, dragging day and night until the morning of your dinner date with Aram.

The rain didn’t subside. Most of the city was now flooded or close to it.

You had braced your store for the worst. Purchasing new tables with waterproofing and protective surfaces, so if the water started to rise and your store was flooded, at least some of your merchandise would be saved.

Coincidentally, as you were unloading the transport carriage that had said furniture, three city guards came over to help unload them.

You didn’t know any of them, but you thought it was sweet that some passing guards saw you and the transport man struggling to move a table, and decided to help.

But that seemed to become a pattern over the course of the week leading to Friday.

You saw more guards than usual in the district and some greeted you as if you knew them. Smith came over to you whenever you were out. Conversing until he needed to leave for his patrol and you needed to return to the shop.

Briar dropped by and returned the ring to you. They was a lot more friendly than the prior meetings you had with them. They actually cracked a few jokes with you.

You finally caved when Yesrie just happened to be in the area on Friday morning. Popping by with a coffee for you. “Are all of you around here because I’m going out with Aram?” You asked. And Yesrie was terrible at feigning ignorance, even if she was joking the entire time she replied.

“You’re going out with my captain? That’s amazing! I didn’t know at all.”

You rolled your eyes and shooed her out of your store. Thanking her for the coffee and company before you needed to get to work.

But finally, the time came to close the store and begin getting ready for your date.

You chose something simple to wear but something to also make you look downright gorgeous. Being in the city had its perks and the ample amount of shops around allowed you to browse and pick something amazing for yourself.

You had half the thought it could be a touch overdressed, but you weren’t sure where Aram was taking you. And you did look good in it! So you wrestled down the nerves and waited for Aram to arrive.

You kept your hands busy with small things in your shop before a heavy knock sounded on your front door.

You quickly opened the door for Aram and he stepped inside wrapped in a thick cloak and hood sprinkled by the rain.

“Damn, look at you, (y/n).” Aram beamed. His eyes didn’t seem to know where to look. They definitely lingered along your chest and hips, but respectfully flicked up to hold your gaze very quickly when he caught himself staring. “I feel a little underdressed now.”

You glimpsed his attire beneath the cloak. Dark dress pants with a deep brown shirt that hugged his large frame snugly. He had decorative leather bracers along his wrists and his hair was neatly bundled up in a collection of braids. Each had small trinkets adorning the strands.

“Nonsense,” You said a little breathlessly. Have you ever seen this man out of uniform? “You look very dashing.”

Your words made his smile crinkle his eyes and he opened his cloak up to you. Nodding to the carriage waiting outside. “I forgot to bring you an umbrella.”

“Ah, yes. I also don’t own one.” You said, hoping the way you moved up beside him didn’t seem too eager.

And you absolutely had an umbrella. But you were not going to miss an opportunity to snugly press yourself against Aram.

Once you were standing against his side, Aram lowered his arm enough that the cloak surrounded you almost entirely. A sweet scent wafted off of him to you and you shivered as your arm brushed against his side.

He was so warm!

Together you exited the store, halting long enough to lock the front and then quickly dash to the carriage. Where a driver was waiting in the rain to open the door for the two of you.

You felt utterly terrible for the man. But as you clambered into the carriage, you caught a glimpse of your driver.

An automaton. A being made of metal and mechanical parts bowed their head as you greeted them. Their clothes were drenched but they didn’t seem to mind as Aram joined you in the carriage, taking the seat next to you, and the automaton closed the door behind him.

“Did you hire a driver for tonight?” You asked. Baffled by the beautiful interior of the carriage. It was much fancier than the one Smith drove you in. And the rain didn’t thunder the roof in this one. You could barely hear it as Aram responded.

“No. This is my carriage. Anthony out there works for me.” Aram said this as if it was a normal occurrence for someone to have an automaton driver. Or their own fancy carriage.

You tried not to balk at his words. Instead made room for him to remove the damp cloak and fold it on the seat across from the both of you.

“I didn’t know being a Guard Captain paid so well.” You teased. Watching Aram as he adjusted his shirt and ensured his bracers were still correctly placed on his wrists. There was a slight scruff along his cheeks and he had replaced the silver caps on his tusks with gold ones.

Damn, he dressed up nice.

Aram smiled and your heart shuddered when he winked at you. “It also pays to have been a successful adventurer beforehand.”

Your eyes widened and Aram laughed as you said, “Wait, you haven’t been a stuck up captain all your life?” Though your words were sarcastic, you couldn’t help but be impressed. “To be honest, I wouldn’t have guessed that was your past. Maybe a soldier of some kind? But not an adventurer.”

“You’d be amazed at how many guards of mine are retired adventurers or travelers looking to settle down. I knew the old captain before he retired. It sped up my promotions, I’ll admit, but I proved myself just like everyone else.” Aram admitted. Relaxing against the plush back seat of the carriage. “Chasing down burglars and walking the streets at night is a much better alternative to dungeon crawling.”

You hummed in agreement. “I do not miss the cold nights or falling asleep hungry. But there was definitely a charm to traveling that the city doesn’t have.”

It was Aram’s turn to agree with a grunt. “I do occasionally miss having the time and freedom to do whatever I want. But I wouldn’t give up my position for anything. Least of all, leave my Guards behind just to go treasure hunting.”

You caught a light twinkling in Aram’s eyes as he spoke. And his smile curled warmly at the corners. It was no secret that Aram was as loyal as any to the Guard, but there was definitely a type of kinship between them all as well.

“That does remind me,” You said, tilting your head teasingly at Aram. “Did you order more guards to patrol my district? I keep tripping over them everytime I leave the shop.”

Aram didn’t look surprised, but he didn’t look pleased about what you said either. “Ah, I was wondering why some of them took longer to return after their patrols.” You waited for Aram to say something else. And when he didn’t, you set a pointed stare on him, urging him to continue whatever thought was bouncing around in his head. Aram chuckled with a half roll of his eyes. “Alright, alright. This is a little embarrassing, but I believe they’re keeping an eye on you for me. On their own accord. I haven’t ordered anymore than the usual patrols in your district. But since…well, they’re a loyal lot and they want to make sure you’re safe.”

You laughed. It made sense why you saw Smith and Yesrie more than anyone else on your streets. “All because you asked me out to dinner?”

“Well…not just because of dinner. But that’s a conversation for later.” Aram said sheepishly. And he expertly changed the subject to your store and how it was faring in the weather. You let the conversation be swept into other topics, but you definitely would hold onto that little kernel of a question for later.

The ride through the city took a little longer than you expected. But soon, the streets outside transformed into a string of establishments on the docks. And the carriage was taken through a route that ran along the rough, crashing oceanside.

The beach looked absolutely ruined from the harsh tides. And the dark gloomy horizon was nothing more than a black screen of storm clouds.

Despite the rain, the street itself was bustling with activity. Lights illuminated the roads brilliantly in warm orange. And all along the sidewalk were canopies and large overhanging roofs to give shelter to the patrons that walked by.

Your carriage was taken to a restaurant that had a grand glass ceiling and a large balcony with many tables seated beneath it. Your table was directly next to the balcony edge, where a shield of magic protected you and Aram from the torrent of rain slashing down from above.

And you found yourself pleasantly warm as Aram pushed in your chair as you took your seat. The business must have heating enchantments placed around to keep their patrons comfortable.

“This place is lovely.” You said as your waiter passed you both a menu. Excusing themselves to give you time to look over their drink choice.

“It’s one of my favorite spots in the city. The ocean view usually is better, but I can at least trust the food will be good.” Aram explained, glancing over the railing to the harsh waves and dark waters. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all.” You quickly reassured him. “I’m just happy to have an excuse to go out. I’ve been putting off going out for dinner for a while. I don’t know alot of people here yet. I wouldn’t know where to start.``

“Well, I hope my choice becomes one of your favorites.” Aram smiled.

The conversation fell into a simple one of work. Aram asked more questions about your store while you prodded about his life in the Guard.

“Things have gotten better over the past few months.” Aram admitted, drawing idle circles on the condensation of his cup of mead. “But I’m sure…activities will pick up closer to the holiday season. I dread to think about that time of year. But it is at least never lacking on slow days.”

“I used to avoid cities during their festival seasons. As backwards as that is for a traveling merchant.” You said in return. “It always caused me more grief than coins. But I guess it’s unavoidable now that I have a permanent spot here.”

                ~~~~To Be Continued Because my brain is stuck~~~~~~

As always, feedback or suggestions are welcome!! 

[middle-earth-marauder]

minor WIP dump alert-

some current WIPs im going back and forth between rn- peep the my ancient ass fucking Hijack au with guardian!hiccup that lived exclusively in my head for years and never actually saw the light of a word doc lol

just got slapped out of nowhere after seeing a post reminscing about the Olden Days of the Big Four and the Rise of the Brave Tangled Dragons fandom lol, and being old enough at this point to probably be considered one of those "cringey older people still writing fanfic/drawing fanart" (cause idk 26 is old now?? wild lmao-) i was There For The Laying Down of the Elder Lore so i remember this era vividly lol

also pride flag sonadow because i am still me after all lol (the hijack was also an exercise in "do i remeber how to draw humans pls say i do-" and the sketch so far seems to suggest that the answer is Yes with Diffculty lol)

[tentativefiction]

Okay, so I’ve been working on a Dragon! Sylus fic. I haven’t finished it yet, but I’ve decided to post the WIP. Hopefully, if enough people are interested I will get around to finishing it :)

—————————————————————————

It’s absolutely freezing. You’re freezing. Harsh winter has spread throughout all of Philos, and your shared humble lair set into the mountains provided little warmth and shelter. In fact, you swore it was even colder up here. Yes, the mountains provided shelter from the worst of the elements, it was dry for one thing, but the bitingly cold air rushed through the open caverns unhindered and settled deep into your bones.

During some exploring of all the scattered stolen treasures in the various rooms, you’d managed to find a few dusty blankets. You were sure they were once finely crafted and thick, but the many years have not been kind to the material, leaving them as thin, moth bitten things. Despite the poor condition of the blankets, you decided to make do and swaddled yourself up tightly in the warmest room you could find. Tucking your face inside the dusty blanket, you huffed out hot air in a desperate bid to get warm, but to little avail. Sighing dramatically, you decided that this isn’t going to work. Surviving your execution, an angry mob and then freeing an ancient angry dragon only to die now of hypothermia? Absolutely not.

Tucking the cloth firmly around your shoulders, you stand and make your way through the cold stone rooms in search of the dragon. Just as you’re about to pass the hoard room, you hear a deep rumble from within. Confidently, you stride into the room, careful not to trip over any misplaced treasure, or scattered gold and take in the sight before you. There he was. The dragon, laid sprawled on his stone perch, mouth open and snoring loudly, his long tail snaked around his body in a sort of makeshift cocoon. You huff quietly under your breath, at least someone was comfortable, you thought almost bitterly.

You mean to wake him, but just as you’re about to open your mouth, you hesitate. Is this really a good idea? Yes, you and the dragon had grown a lot closer recently and you no longer feared death by his hands (claws?), however he may not take kindly to be disturbed from what looks to be a very deep slumber. At least five minutes you stood there, just watching him. How his chest rises and falls, his mouth comically open as booming snores that taper into strange grumbly grows echo off of the stone walls. You can’t help but notice how different he looks, how open and vulnerable his face is. How peaceful.

Before you realise, you had crept closer. Mesmerised your hand reaches out to his face, aiming to trace the no longer there furrow of his brow. The sudden silence should have alerted you, but you’d barely noticed, before your wrist was suddenly sized, an undignified squeak escaping from your lips and your eyes met ruby red.

“You really need to work on your assassination attempts. I will give you credit, going for me in my sleep is a clever idea. Maybe next time, hmm?” His eyes quickly scanned you, “No weapon?” He raised a brow.

“No! I-“ His grip tightened.

“Then how were you going to do it?” You open your mouth to speak but are quickly cut off again, “ah, I understand. If you tell me now you can’t catch me by surprise next time right?” He purrs.

“Will you shut up for two minutes!” You shout and wrench your wrists free. He lets you. You lift your head and meet his expectant gaze. “I was cold.”

“Cold?” He tilts his head.

“Yes! I found some blankets, but they were of no use. I was coming to get you, but…. I’ve never seen you sleeping before.”

“Dragons sleep too.” He states simply.

“That’s not what I meant. I’ve never seen you sleep before. You’re cute”.

The dragon scoffs and crosses his arms, “Dragons are not cute.” He looks away, sulking.

Trying your best to hide your giggle, you reach out and gently touch his face, turning him to look at you. “No, but you are”. The words are out before you can really think of the implication, but you don’t take them back.

Crimson eyes bore into yours as you study each other. Suddenly, he stands. “I will go and find something warm.” He moves to stride past you but you grab his arm.

“Sylus.” He’s watching where your hand wraps around him, before trailing his eyes back to your own. You can feel the inhuman heat radiating off of him, your fingers tingling as they’re already starting to thaw out. “Please, just…. Stay? Here, I mean. Look, I can barely feel my limbs and who knows how long it will take you to find something. I can’t wait that long.

“Then what would you have me do? Say the words and I shall see it done.” The intensity of his face would be frightening if you weren’t already used to him. You slowly reach out your other hand and place it next to the glowing gem in the centre of his chest, the heat sending pleasurable warm through your hand and into your arm. Without thinking you lean your head forward and place it on his chest, nearly scorching yourself at the sudden temperature change.

“Just, let me sit with you a while? Gods, you’re so warm.” Your words are muffled into his chest, your arms now fully wrapped around the dragon.

After a moment of silence you feel panic rise in your chest and look up at him. Sylus was already watching you, his expression incomprehensible. Just as you’re about to back off and back track, his deep voice fills the air once more. “Consider it done.” Is all he says. You jump as you feel smooth scales along your back as his long tail wraps itself snuggly around you, before you’re suddenly lifted into the air. As your centre of gravity suddenly shifts you shriek and flail, flapping your arms before grabbing into him. You’re about to scold him, but are suddenly plopped down gently on the stone perch Sylus was previously sleeping on, then pulled into his solid chest, arms wrapped around you, his tail soon joining.

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

i am so intrigued by the LavellanDog wip 🙏 please tell us more

ahahah, this is my early post-Tresspasser fic where my Lavellan has returned to Skyhold after the Exalted Council has ended, with too much knowledge and one less arm. she already has enough to deal with but Surprise, commander Helaine (the knight-enchanter specialization coach) is there, to 1. re train her how to fight one-handed and 2. give her a puppy.

Lavellan does NOT want a puppy. she is used to livestock not pets, even if the dog looks more like a horse than a canine and behave just as weirdly (it's a couple month old borzoi lol). she has TOO MUCH TO DO!!

“Good morning, Commander,” Lavellan says. She looks down at the dog. It stares up at her and yawns, showing a pink tongue even longer than the thing’s already ridiculously long snout.             “Inquisitor. You may begin stretching.” Lavellan leans her staff against the stone wall, and begins moving through the familiar warm-up motions. She hadn’t kept to the routine as much the last two years—Helaine will be sure to point out all the ways she’s rusty from lack of discipline. But first, the commander starts with a lecture.             “You know that the modern version of our tradition originated with the Emerald Knights, although earlier practices date back to the ancient empire of Elvhenan. To protect the Dales, which at that time still belonged solely to the elves, the Knights rode into battle on halla and fought alongside wolf companions, referred to as the Knight’s Guardians.”             Ah. So this is what’s going on.             “Whatever lineage of wolves they once cared for has long since been lost. It would be impractical or even useless to try to recreate the tradition with actual, wild wolves. As such, for the last several years, my colleagues Constables Talas and Mahariel have been reviving the practices with Nevarran hounds to take their place. While they lack the brute strength of wolves, they take to training quickly, and can move faster and with greater obedience. They can also alert their fighting partner to unseen enemies.”             “I’ve lost an arm, not an eye, Helaine.”             “During training you will address me as Commander once again.”             Lavellan sighs. “Yes, Commander.”             “The dog will still be useful. This litter was bred for both strength and speed, and both its parents have served admirably alongside their companions in battle for the last several years.” There is the very slightest of pauses before her next words, which might almost have been mistaken for a breath rather than the hesitation Lavellan still recognizes. “It’s a wolfhound.”             Jacinth does stop stretching then, and turns to stare flatly at the other woman. Helaine doesn’t look away, though there is a flash of—something, across her face. From someone who rarely displays any emotion, it’s almost alarming.             A wolfhound. To hunt a wolf. The meaning is not lost on her. This is not an argument she’s going to have right now; she’s had it already, with Cassandra. And Leliana and Cullen. And the Iron Bull, and Dorian, and Vivienne, and—everyone but Cole, really. She hadn’t been sure who all knows the truth—maybe there should have been more effort to keep things secret—but it’s too late for that now, apparently.             “Fine,” Lavellan spits out finally, eyes narrowed. “I’ll train with the dog.”             “You’ll do more than that. To establish the bond that will carry you through battles, you will do everything with the dog from now on.”             “Wait, what—”             “It will eat at your feet. Sleep beside your bed. If you expect to fight together, you must also live together.”             “I—I don’t know anything about dogs,” Lavellan tries desperately. The Dalish don’t keep pets, not for pleasure. Only livestock. “Can’t it—just stay in the stables? With the other animals?”             “It’s not a horse, Inquisitor.”             “It’s good enough for halla and harts and—and that nuggalope, too. And… whatever dracolisks are.”             “None of those are species of dog, either, Inquisitor.”

this is all bad enough, but then it turns out "Nevarran wolfhounds" are in fact as weird as other Nevarran magic/hobbies, and they're bred to accompany their owner not just in life, but into the Fade. so! some of the fic is Jacinth dealing with daytime practical matters, and some of it is coping with nightmares/change/inner turmoil in dreams, and she cant even be alone there either.

I've shared two other snippets of this one, here and here :) And this is prompt is from this WIP ask game!

[llazyneiph]

Dive into the world of Ancient Greece with the latest teaser trailer for the upcoming Royalty Mod update. 🏛️✨

Discover the heart of the Hellenic Empire, embrace the divine blessings of the gods, manage your royal treasury, embark on noble careers, and master the art of oratory. This update is packed with features that will transport you to a time of legends and myths!

🔔 Don't forget to like, share, and let us know your thoughts in the comments. Your feedback is invaluable to us!

Special Giveaway Alert! 🎁 To celebrate the teaser release, we're giving away a month of Discord Nitro to two lucky members! Stay tuned for details on how to enter and get a chance to win.

Let the journey to Ancient Greece begin! 🌿🔱

[marigold-hills]

Haven’t done a recommendation in a little while but this WIP definitely deserves dusting off the tag:

instance of happenstance By @magicbeings

It’s funny, it’s clever, it tugs on all my heartstrings. There are three chapters out of what is expected to be seven and frankly don’t wait, read it now, give the author all the encouragement. It’s so good.

Wolfstar with a background jily and bartylus

Summary:

Sirius Black has everything in his life sorted—except for one small detail: he’s yet to find true love. Since his usual methods (aka dating apps) don’t seem to be working, he decides to leave it to the hands of fate. He’ll let an ancient deck of Tarot Cards guide his every move and hope that this will lead him to the arms of his true soulmate.

Spoiler alert: it does work, of course—but not without a few unexpected twists and turns along the way.

[prythianpages]

WIP Wednesday

here's a little sneak peak Maneater, an Az fic, since I'm feeling 😈:

Azriel pauses at the base of the Prison’s slope, gazing upward at the daunting climb ahead. Streams of water gurgle through the moss-and-grass ground, their cold spray dampening his boots and the hem of his cloak. The wind howls past, sending a shiver down Azriel's spine. It was as if the very mountain was mourning, its sorrowful wail blending with the distant cries of the tormented souls trapped within.

“Do not underestimate her, Az.” Rhysand’s voice from earlier echoes through his mind. He had scoffed at that. Centuries of successful missions and orders and Rhysand dares to doubt him now? 

Azriel knew better, though. This was not just a mission but a test—a test of his self-control. After his secret endeavor—or what might have been—with Elain, Rhysand had kept a close eye on him. Doubt had started to grow like a weed in the field of their friendship, and Azriel was determined to root it out. He needed to prove to Rhysand that he was still the male he had grown up alongside. His friend. His brother.

He’s fought in wars. He’s killed powerful creatures. He’s captured dangerous creatures. Why should you be any problem?

You’re just a silly little demon, after all.

Taking a deep breath, he carries forward. The blue siphons adorning his leathers flickering, their glow a stark contrast to the dreary surroundings. As he finally enters the treacherous prison, the air becomes heavy, laden with the scent of damp stone and ancient despair. His footsteps are quiet, courtesy of his shadows, as he makes his way through the labyrinth. It grows dark the further he goes but to Azriel, darkness is a familiar friend.

His shadows can hear the whispers of the guardians and he can feel their presence, like a prickling along his skin, as they watch him with unseen eyes. Shadows coil around his fingers, eager and restless, sensing the challenge ahead. He knew he was close when he spotted the Bone Carver’s cell—or at least, what used to be. Now it stood vacant. It didn’t matter, anyway. The cell that mattered to him at this moment was yours, conveniently the one right next to it.

He can feel your presence then–a flicker of unnatural heat in the icy blackness. His fingers clenched tightly around the vial in his hand.  “Give her your blood and she will be compelled to you,” Amren had said. As a former prisoner, she had heard a rumor or two about you.  “But do not let her sink her claws into your heart, boy. Or it’s over for you.”

But you will be no problem at all, Azriel thinks, gaze flickering down to the vial filled with his blood briefly.

He’s going to get you to comply with his orders, proving that he is worthy of the trust Rhysand had placed in him. Proving that he is more than his mistakes, more than his desires.

spoiler alert but not since it’s in the summary: he underestimates her 🤭

[wufeiw]

First Lines Game

Thanks @aglassroseneverfades for the tag!

Rules: share the first line of your 10 most recent fics and tag other people to do the same.

I don't quite have 10 works under my belt as of yet, and some of these haven't even been posted publicly. But I thought, "Why the hell not?"

The Wellspring of all (Harry Potter/Dragon Age: Inquisition crossover; Harry/Solas; Immortal Master of Death Harry; Harry gets trapped in Thedas; Wip): Harry had known that people would treat him differently once Voldemort was finally dead and gone, but he had also held onto a shred of hope they’d ignore him now that he had done his job.

2. The Boy Who Lived in Kirkwall (Harry Potter/Dragon Age 2 crossover; Harry/M!Hawke; Harry gets trapped in Thedas; Wip):

Things escalated quickly when the Death Eaters arrived. The entire vision was a setup. Sirius wasn't in danger—wasn't even there—and now all of Harry's friends were paying the price for him falling for it. 

3. You Can Take My Heart (Dragon Age: Inquisition; M!Lavellan/Solas; Two Elf Nerds Bonding Over Magic and Rebellion; Fic started as an excuse to write a mage-monk class; Wip):

The snap of a dry twig alerted Thalion that he was no longer alone in the clearing, the sound dragging his attention away from the crumbling wall and the faded images carved there. Carefully looking over the edge of the stone arch he was sitting on, wondering what had entered the clearing with him, he was surprised to see that his Keeper had found him and not one of the hunters or an animal.

4. The Viper's Shadow (Harry Potter/Dragon Age 2 crossover; Side Quest in the Boy Who Lived in Kirkwall series; Harry/Sarwen; Kinda Student/Teacher; Smut; Jealous Harry; Harry Pining Over Hawke; One-Shot):

Another bead of sweat rolled between his shoulder blades, flowing like a small river down his back as Harry waited for Sarwen outside of the Blooming Rose. 

5. To Fight the Rising Odds (Final Fantasy XV; Eventual Chocobro Polycule; Canon Divergence; No Ardyn Izunia AU; Noctis Fights to get his Kingdom Back; Wip):

The giant throne room felt stifling, even empty as it was with only his father and friends to fill it, the weight of expectation crushing him as he waited to leave. He hated the ceremony of it; why all the protocols if it was just them?

6. Insomnia's #1 Superstar! (Final Fantasy XV; AU; Crack Fic; Parody; Inspiring Pop Idol!Prompto on the Run; One-Shot):

I am, I am,  I am Insomnia's Number One Superstar!  I am, I am,  I am Insomnia's Number One Superstar! 

The radio cuts out as Gladio switches it off with more force than necessary.

7. Of Flowers and Wolf Hearts (The Witcher/The Arcana(Visual novel) AU; Julian/Leshen; Julian Devorak is a Witcher; Monster Romance; Smut; One-Shot):

Julian often wondered how he got himself into these situations, nearly tripping as another sharp rock slipped into the hole in his boot. Ah yes, the constant need for coin and traveling on foot up and down the steep hills were utter hell on his feet. But it seemed the last patch-up was no longer going to be enough to get him through another month.

8. The Green Lion (Harry Potter/Candela Obscura AU; Harry/Tom Riddle; Professor Riddle; Cursed Harry; Cosmic Horror; Not Posted Yet):

Within the dim confines of the ancient chamber, the rifle erupted once more, releasing a thunderous crack that echoed through the stone walls.

9. A Faustian Bargain (Final Fantasy XVI; Time Travel AU; Clive/Cid; Fix-It Fic; Not Posted Yet):

The remnants of his broken heart shattered once more, slicing the interiors of his ribs to ribbons as memories of the outlaw returned to the forefront of his thoughts. No matter how far down he tried to shove those feelings for the man away, they always managed to uproot themselves in the end. The tangled mess of briers burrowing in deeper, thorns digging into his flesh and bone until there was no telling where he started, and his regrets for how everything turned out ended.

[Not Technically the ‘actual’ first line, due to major spoilers for the end game, so instead this is a few lines down.]

No one to tag, so here it ends!

[theskeletonprior]

The First: Introductions

This is a casual little writing challenge to get myself into a habit, perhaps, or if not, to get some words from the meat of my brain to the pulp of the page. I chose four prompts for myself, and I'll be producing what I hope are four short works of about 5k words (although each one I expect to expand far beyond that limit). I think that I might post daily updates on the process, what I'm doing, how I'm feeling and whatnot, but we'll see if I keep that up or not.

All of my stories are set in the world of RAVENOT, and if you're curious, you can take a look at my WIP intro right here. And if you're really keen, you can read the first chapter (sort of a pilot as I toil) right here! But to save you all that clicking, here's the pitch:

After a near-death experience which leaves her able to speak the language of the Dead, Senai joins the Order of Balances, an ancient organization that preserves the peace between the living and the (un)dead. There she meets RAVENOT, an immortal skeleton knight who travels the realm to ensure that Life and Death remain in balance, that those subjected to necromancy are willingly exposed, and that no violent or mindless undead ravage the lands unchecked. For a year and a day, Senai will travel with Ravenot as their witness, and learn what it means to walk the path alongside the Unmade.

The pieces I'm working on will follow Ravenot specifically, as I'm considering a collection of novellas about their adventures in the style of Vampire Hunter D. I've been reading them in preparation for this work. The books certainly aren't perfect, but there's been quite a lot to learn from the way that they're structured, and from the things that its more successful adaptations chose to omit. I don't feel very motivated today, but I'm hopeful that with some self-care, I'll feel more alert. I rested quite determinedly yesterday in preparation but I seem to have been thwarted toward that end. I suppose I'll also keep a taglist, so do let me know if you'd like to be on it. That's all for now!

[suna1suna1]

Woohoo! It's WIP Wednesday again!

I've been working on the Magical Girl AU for the past week, since that's the one that was requested last time, so I've taken it off (but attached some progress ;)) Sweets and Secrets is back this week!

Go ahead and reply, reblog, or send an ask with the numbers or titles of the fics you want me to work on and I'll set a 25-minute timer, meaning I get about 500 words written in that time frame. Then I'll share my progress at the end of the sprint(s). You can select up to 3 titles/numbers! ^^

Sonadowtober 2022 one-shots | Sonic, Sonadow (Published)

Sonadow bounty hunter AU | Sonic, Sonadow (Unpublished)

Boom Sonadow Dark Gaia fic | Sonic, Sonadow (Unpublished)

Hades and Persephone AU | Sonic, Shadamy (Unpublished)

Shadamytober 2023 one-shots | Sonic, Shadamy (Published)

The Heart of the Ark | Sonic, Shadamy (Published)

Sweets and Secrets | Sonic, Shadamy (Published)

Angels and Demons (H&P sequel) | Sonic, Sonamyshad (Published)

All Our Love one-shot collection | Sonic, Sonamyshad (Published)

L'histoire d'une Ladybug a Paris | Miraculous Ladybug (Published)

Speculative Murder Drones fic | Murder Drones, Nuzi (Unpublished)

Magical Girl progress and notes under the cut

Concept and plot notes/rambles:

Amy looks through newsfeeds and notices a figure with a mask over their muzzle and quills shaped kinda like Shadow’s (thinking kinda like Mephiles). They look enough like the purple smoke (and like Sonic’s werehog form) that she takes a screencap and saves it in a note on her phone. If she can find him, maybe they can figure out what’s going on. She also notices Eggman’s name in the newsfeeds as it talks about him getting fired. She clicks the interview video, and it shows him raving about his success. He’d intentionally gone that deep into the ground to see if there was any way life could live within the earth’s crust. Unfortunately now there’s a new volcano in the laboratory, and it had to be completely evacuated. That whole town is in the process of being evacuated. 

She sends the video to Nicky, then falls asleep. She dreams of the earth shattering into pieces, and shadows of faces appear. At the forefront is the face of the shady guy she noticed in the newsfeeds. 

Later, she’s woken up by a text alert from Nicky that tells her he found something. She hurries over to his house only to find Chip cowering behind a trashed couch. Nicky has evidently transformed again with the loss of the day’s light. Chip tells her he left the house, and Amy transforms and hurries after him. Amy asks Chip what Nicky found, but he doesn’t know either. Something about an ancient god. He was too busy raiding the pantry for sweets.

Comic script page:

Nicky: “Hey, it’s my favorite! Plus it’s got my favorite character from (insert other manga name here) on it.”

Emi steps up onto the hardwood floor, carrying her bag with her. 

Emi: “Okay, okay, I’ll give it back at lunch.”

Nicky: “You’d better!” 

~~end scene~~

Emi is in science class. 

Emi is doodling little drawings of Nicky with hearts with her pencil. 

Emi’s inner monologue: “Not that I really mind it though… being in love…”

The teacher is up near the blackboard. 

Teacher: “Did everyone get their permission slips for the field trip this afternoon?”

The students mostly answer yes.

Emi frowns and starts rooting through her backpack. 

Emi: “Did I…?”

Emi starts looking more panicked. 

Emi: “I know Mom signed it! Where is it?”

A student taps her on the shoulder. 

Student: “Psst.”

The student is holding a piece of paper. 

Student: (mouthing) “From Nicky.” 

Emi takes the paper.

Emi unfolds it and sighs with relief.

[blarrghe]

been tagged in a couple WIP Wednesdays! Close enough. Thanks @transfenris-truther for this week's tag and tagging on @cleverblackcat @rosella-writes @melisusthewee @plisuu and @sulky-valkyrie

I've been really into writing the big WIP Enemies-to-Lovers fic that still won't be out for a while. Here's something from it anyway. Promise I'll have real content I can actually post.... soon.

---

The temple’s entrance emerged from the forest all at once. One moment, they were pushing past tree branches and stepping over thick roots, the next, Dorian was face-to-face with a huge and unforeseen slab of rock, a smooth, grey outcropping of ancient stone which pressed itself out of a high hill of forest covered earth. A rusting metal fixture bolted into the stone was all that alerted the spot from being anything other than another bit of rocky cliff. The fixture held a torch which looked old and decrepit enough to crumble in his hands. 

The First stepped forward. He pushed away some growth of vines and tapped his staff over the creeping moss which packed itself into the cracks of the rock and grew as a soft fur coat up its shadowed lower half. The moss crumbled away, revealing rows and rows of intricate runic carvings. 

Then the First said something, a muttered string of Elvhen words accompanied by another couple taps of his staff. The carvings alighted, and the rock split open. 

Dorian watched as the stone revealed a doorway into pitch darkness. He plucked the torch from the wall, glad to find it felt sturdy enough in his hand, and lit it with a spark of magic. The flame took to the wrappings in a gust of energy, flame-like but not. Whisps of greenish flame stuck to its top, but looking closely, the torch didn’t even really seem to burn. The eerie veil-tinted flame was steady, unaffected by Dorian’s motion or any passing breeze. 

Dorian gestured with his torch towards the dark entryway which the elf had revealed. “After you,” he offered. 

Without concern nor hesitation, in marched the First. 

[ell-vellan]

❄️🌤️ for the wip asks :3

Thank youuu for letting me share <3

WIP asks

Share a snippet from a WIP of your choosing.

Now, finally, they stood in front of a large circular pool of still water beneath a huge mirror of equally rippling reflections that somehow gave Bull the most massive case of the creeps, guarded by an eerie elf who was like no elf he'd met before.  This was what Corypheus wanted so badly. This was what they’d come all this way to steal out from under him. And seeing the Well of Sorrows now – just a low pool of water at their feet – Bull believed it earned its name, somehow. Bull had stayed out of it, the whole thing. Their whole discussion about the Well with its creepy pale guardian elf, the arguments between him and Morrigan and Solas. This was El’s domain, her people’s culture, and he could tell just from the glances he’d gotten of her face that she was overwhelmed. Reverent, curious, amped up, but entirely focused. She didn’t need his input here, and it’s not like he had anything useful to say. So he kept his thoughts to himself. Instead, he observed. He saw the way El received the revelations from Abelas; saw the way she flinched when Abelas called the Dalish “shadows wearing vallaslin.” Saw the way she rallied, arguing that they had respected the sacred grounds and done his rituals, that Corypheus was here to steal whatever the Well offered, and that she had come to stop him. “I believe you,” Abelas said, without emotion. Like it didn’t truly matter why she came, or how Abelas felt about it.  Iron Bull stared at the Inquisitor’s back. Her armor gleamed eerily in the flickering light of the temple’s torches and shifting sunlight through the canopy of broken roofs. Solas stood beside her, tension in every muscle of his body. They’d been two of a kind here, buddy-buddy the whole trek through the jungle and the temple, talking in hushed whispers like they were afraid the temple’s sentinels could hear. El hadn't glanced Bull's way, too focused on taking in every single detail of Mythal's temple. Bull watched it all go down with the curious detachment of a guy with no real skin in the game. But El did, and she was the one he was concerned about.  The scantily-clad witch glared at them. She was the odd one out, the one who’d told them about this place, but not enough, definitely not all that she knew. Bull didn’t trust her as far as he could throw her, and he was pretty sure he could throw her a long way. Whatever she had come for, it wasn’t proving as easy as she’d thought it would be, that much was for sure. She was the human arguing with the elves, in the middle of the elfiest place Bull had ever set foot. And that was saying something. The oddest one of all, that long-limbed, pale elf in golden armor who wore vallaslin and yet was nothing like any elf Bull had ever met. Unlike any other elf alive. He was taller, for one. And he had this air about him that made the back of Bull’s neck prickle. There was a power to him that was ancient; all Bull's instincts clamored that this guy felt like no foe he’d ever faced, that appearances were dangerously deceiving. Abelas carried himself with quiet arrogance that he’d only seen in a very few. Bull’d learned through experience that people with this kind of confidence, this lack of fear, meant they either didn’t give a fuck whether they lived or died, or knew you were nothing, and both options were bad news. The put him on alert, a deep instinctual fear that he’d met a rare foe who might actually be better than him. Bull very much did not want to fight Abelas. Not even four-on-one, with three experienced mages and a spirit-boy who could disappear and reappear and was really, really good with knives.

Share a favorite piece of dialogue from your WIP.

“It's not like I haven't seen the guy naked before.”

El startled. “You told me you met them when they saved your life.”

“I did. I had stepped on the toes of somebody important in Antiva, I guess – maybe I killed his friend or banged his sister, I never did learn which – and the Crows had a contract out on me. And look, I'm good, but the Crows don't fucking stop, and even I have to sleep sometimes. Anyway I was on my way outta town, not that it matters much, the Crows are everywhere, but I figured maybe they'd calm down. Nope. Anyway, just so happens around that time Zevran was working through the Crows on his own, knocking ‘em out one by one, and our goals aligned in a pretty lucky way for me. Long story short, they saved my life, I thanked them, we got to talking and…”

Bull was waiting deliberately, gauging her reaction, but she was calmer than he’d expected. Aghast, maybe, but not exactly surprised, and not really jealous, either.

“And you thanked him further by… sleeping with him. Because of of course you did.”

“Both of them, actually.” Bull smiled crookedly and took her hand when her eyes went wide, squeezing in reassurance. Or maybe to keep her from running like the skittish thing she was. 

“You slept with both of them at the same time?”

“Aw, kadan,” He grinned at her with affection. “Didn't know I could still shock you with stuff like that.”

[rose-of-pollux]

Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @knickynoo, thanks!

(Tagging @belphegor1982, @threephantomrey, and @radarsteddybear and anyone else who wants to do this!)

How many works do you have on AO3? Including the selection of ancient fics I just brought over from a dying FFN, 527.

What's your total AO3 word count? 1,836,538 words

What fandoms do you write for? Currently, my main fandoms are 13 Ghosts of Scooby-Doo, The Man from U.N.C.L.E., and Back to the Future, with some Haunted Mansion, Hogan's Heroes, Hades, Pokémon, Super Mario, and Legend of Zelda thrown in. And I've dabbled in other fandoms, as well.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

“Heroic Resolve” (Man from U.N.C.L.E., light slash)

“A Devil Put Aside for Me” (Super Smash Bros, gen)

“If Wishes Were Cats” (MFU, light slash)

“Desperate Times” (MFU, light slash)

"Some Things are That Simple" (Super Smash Bros, gen)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I try to, but between real life and my ADHD, I don't often get to them as quickly as I'd like to. Also FFN has completely stopped sending notifications in the last several months, so I genuinely have no clue if anyone has left a comment there. :/

What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? ...I haven't written it yet, but one of my future 13 Ghosts fics is going to be an angsty semi-resolved resolution that carries over to the next fic. Currently, however, the angstiest ending is probably “All Dead, All Dead” (Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild/Super Smash Bros)–it’s about BOTW Link realizing that the events of World of Light in Smash Ultimate makes this the second time that he failed to prevent a disaster, that he’s lost more this time than last time during the Calamity, and is now carrying even more survivor’s guilt as a result.  I normally don’t write such angsty fics with no resolution, but as this is World of Light, and everyone’s restoration is a foregone conclusion if you’ve played the game, I felt it was fine as is.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Most of my fics have happy endings, but the happiest is probably "O, Brave New World" (13 Ghosts of Scooby-Doo)--just that ending scene of everyone hugging in the rain after Daphne casts her first successful spell during her magic training... Yeah.

Do you get hate on fics? Not really, but I do get people who either complain that the fic makes no sense after admitting they jumped in the middle of a multichapter fic without any context, or I get someone who does not understand dramatic irony and wonders why Marty is acting the way he is when he's extremely stressed and not thinking things through as a result.

Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? Love them! Craziest one is probably the MFU/Haunted Mansion crossover I did earlier this year ("The Grim Grinning Ghosts Affair"), but the BTTF/Hogan's Heroes one I'm planning is going to be right up there.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Yes, one of my Super Mario fics was stolen along with other writers' on FFN back in 2020; thankfully a friend of mine in the fandom AND a kind stranger both alerted me to it, and I and the other victims reported the thief and got the stolen fics removed.

Have you ever had a fic translated? No, but I have had one transcribed as a Podfic by someone else–“You Can’t Judge a Book” (Hogan’s Heroes, Gen).

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes, once, on LiveJournal a long time ago; it was a Hogan’s Heroes fic with an otherworldly spin; I’m not entirely sure if it still exists.

What's your all-time favorite ship? Napoleon Solo/Illya Kuryakin!

What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? Most of all, the Monkeesfic I left hanging, because it was the literal final installment of the arc I was writing.

What are your writing strengths? Characterizations, or so I’ve been told–I can jump from fandom to fandom, and have everyone remain perfectly in-character. Also, dialogues. My writing has always been dialogue-driven.

What are your writing weaknesses? Descriptions. As improved as I am when compared to 2008 when I started posting stories online (and you can tell by looking at some of those that I brought over from FFN to AO3), I yearn for the ability to pull off the whole “Show, don’t Tell” as good as certain people I could mention (Vincent Price and Paul Frees, mainly).

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? It can be tricky depending on the language, but rewarding if it all works out.  In Hogan’s Heroes, LeBeau switching between French and English happens nearly once per episode, so I endeavor to do that (with plenty of help from Bel, I will admit). For Illya speaking Russian or Ukrainian in MFU, I throw it into Google Translate and pray it comes out coherent.  His dialogues are the most challenging by far since I’m on my own. For Flim-Flam speaking Nepali in 13 Ghosts, I have a much easier time since Nepali is similar enough to Hindi (which I am decently fluent in).

First fandom you wrote for? Pokémon, way back in 1999 (though those fics will never see the light of the internet, ever).

Favorite fic you've ever written? Going to do this for my main three fandoms–

Man from U.N.C.L.E. -- the aforementioned Haunted Mansion crossover, "The Grim Grinning Ghosts Affair" (mostly gen, but established Napollya bickering and canonical Hatbox Ghost/Beating Heart Bride going on in the background); The Ghost Host and Madame Leota draw Napoleon and Illya to the Mansion under admittedly false pretenses in the hopes that the mortal duo can help the Hatbox Ghost wrangle the mad spirit of Constance Hatchaway.

13 Ghosts of Scooby-Doo -- "Class Reunion" (gen); Vincent brings the gang to his school reunion, and as Daphne, who's been learning magic from Vincent, is determined to prove herself to the assembled witches and warlocks, there is trouble brewing as a nefarious plot involving the Forbidden Arts underway.

Back to the Future– “‘Cause I Might Not Make It Back” (Gen).  Marty is pursued by a renegade scientist to be used as leverage against Doc, resulting in him getting stranded in 1932, stricken with amnesia.  As 1986 Doc searches for Marty, the ripple effect fails to kick in as his 1932 counterpart finds him, and is tasked with trying to figure out how to get Marty’s memory back, as well as keep him out of the clutches of his renegade pursuer.