#mana fae

[yukii0nna]

Muses of Hope villains

Mana fae

A leannán sídhe with some rulkusa blood from the UnSeelie court. She loves musicians and often wants to take them back to play for her forever more or at least till they die. She set her sights on Night Hunters as her next victims.

Makoto Shirogame/ Sunanno

A young man who at first glance, is an ordinary school therapist who is pretty popular with the students. Actually, he is the supervillain known as Sunanno who wishes to become an actual god of storms(never mention Storm to him) he activates his ability from a gift to his bloodline to active this goal

Drew Faroway/ Griffin

A plant scientist who worked with his wife trying to end world hunger. While he was drinking, he accidentally insulted a powerful fae who decided to curse him with madness. While he did fight it, he stopped when that same fae killed his wife out of spite. While he had the plant necklace in his hands. Needless to say that Mr Faroway was gone. He was replaced by Griffin.

Rachel Carmichael/Khione

A selfish woman who only cares about her reputation at her toy making company. She is known in her circles is emotionally abusive to her children which caused her husband to divorce her. After wandering into a Labyrinth, she found out that she could somehow control it and later other people when she touched the center. She uses this to control her children after finding a book that allows her to control minds.

Richard Miller/ Hourglass

A serious man who was an infamous clockmaker. Or was until his eyes were cursed by a russula who he ticked off. Now he works to make a potion to reverse it, no matter the cost. At first, Spider-Man mostly dealt with him but now Crystal was his bane due to her scards.

@bakawitch @punkeropercyjackson @theautisticcentre @zexal-club @insomniac-jay @kousaka-ayumu

[lyzerusart]

Bunch of mugs I did last year. Bottom right is my OC

[shylittlefrogg]

In short, I forgot to show Mana's drawing! The dense and well-intentioned Mana

I really love thinking that the Doki Doki team is just a bunch of birds

[darkburning]

prompt: after inheriting the Ring and becoming high priestess, is there anything mana does, in particular, to honour mahad or his memory? does she take on any apprentices of her own?

mana spent a good many years running away. although she claims she went to get stronger, the truth is that she was simply running away from everything. her home, her way of life, the memories of her fallen friends, and the guilt and numbness of it all was just too much for her. of course, as we know she would eventually come back --- as a stronger mage / skilled spellcaster and take her place as his successor. it wasn't an easy feat, and i am sure she felt very guilty that she ignored his legacy for the longest time. however, she has grown up now. she is more mature. the way she honors her fallen master is how she now presents herself in the royal court. all of his examples and his teachings are now taken very seriously and she demonstrates it with the determination to help rebuild the kingdom he died for. it still took her quite a bit of time to visit his stone tablet, but when she does she brought along so many tributes and offerings. she thanks him from the bottom of her heart and he remains so closely to her prayers.

in terms of apprenticeship, it is very likely that while she was alive she did have one or two students of her own (although i do hc it was magician's valkyrie). it is unknown if they would eventually inherit the ring, but it is more likely that her students was simply that --- students wanting to learn magic. she taught them everything she knew : the things she learned abroad, mahad's teachings, and the dark rituals of mystical properties. of course, in this blog's canon mana continued her existence in the form of the DMG / magi magi, which implies she has been alive for literally three-thousand years. that is more than enough time for her to gain even more apprentices which i consider the : fruit magicians girls being exclusively spirit mana's students. this means in total : mana / dmg likely had six students (possibly more that didn't inherit the magician girl title). she is likely very loved and respected as a mentor, no doubt because she was extremely patient and animated as a teacher.

tho ngl, i bet the apprentices gets all confused when their teacher starts behaving like a silly apprentice to dark magician lol --------

[delulustateofmind]

Potions & Shadows (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: An old neighbor of Feyre's is revealed to be not who they seemed when Feyre was a child. Leadign to Feyre needing the once village apothecaries help. Inspired by Frieren: Beyond Journey's End.

A/n: I posted a preview a week or two ago. I enjoyed writing this one, I've been super busy at work and with a family wedding so probably won't have a part two anytime soon. Hope you enjoy! Thank you all for the support on my last few fics! :)

Word Count: 2.5k

Part two, Part Three, Part Four

Warmings: None? Let me know if there's any.

Feyre would often find herself lost in memories of their old neighbor, a mysterious figure from her childhood spent in the manor with her sisters. Little did she know, her encounter with the apothecary would soon unveil new mysteries. Years later, as Feyre bid farewell before their departure, she decided to revisit the familiar door, hoping to uncover the enigma of the past.

In the hustle of their impoverished days and the chaos of her transition to fae life, Feyre scarcely pondered the mystery. It wasn't until Nesta mentioned seeing the apothecary, unchanged from their childhood encounter, right before the human queen's arrival, that Feyre's curiosity stirred. She made a mental note to pay a quick visit to the apothecary's cottage down the road after their business with the queens concluded.

The meeting with the human queens did not end too well, though they did manage to secure the book. With Rhysand somewhat strict on their schedule, Feyre knew she couldn't risk being late. The crunch of the dirt path under her feet felt oddly familiar yet different in her new fae form. The smells of the pine trees now heightened, and the distant streams seemed closer than ever. Pulling her out of her trance, she arrived at the apothecary’s cottage.

The moss on the roof indicated the cottage had been there for centuries, perhaps even when the village was being built. Feyre walked up and knocked on the door, her heart pounding with anticipation. The shuffling of footsteps inside signaled someone approaching. When the door creaked open, Feyre was met with a familiar face.

A short woman stood before her, her scent unmistakably human, yet intertwined with a hint of something elusive. Her hazel green eyes, flecked with gold and blue hues, seemed to hold secrets as deep as the mountains' morning dew. The apothecary wiped her hands on her apron, stained with various herbs and powders, and greeted Feyre with a small sigh and a bright smile.

"It's you... but different?" she remarked, tilting her head curiously. Feyre released a breathy laugh. "Yeah, you could say I am a bit different... you're back," she whispered.

The apothecary moved aside, inviting Feyre into the familiar interior of the cottage. Bookshelves lined the walls, while towers of books stood around tables filled with bottles and concoctions. The atmosphere was comforting yet tinged with a sense of mystery. As the apothecary made tea, Feyre couldn't help but notice the intricate organization amidst the apparent chaos.

"No longer human, now a fae?" the apothecary mused as she prepared the tea. "Haven't seen that before." She smiled to herself, lost in thought for a moment before continuing. "I always thought you were human, I mean you don't seem fae," Feyre whispered.

"That's because I'm not fae, though I am considered a fae creature," the apothecary explained with a soft smile. "Long story short, as I have a feeling your companions only gave you a few moments to visit. I am half human, half-elven... one of the last of my kind."

Feyre looked puzzled before asking, "How come you don't age? I mean the human counterpart should... make you age, right?" The apothecary poured the tea, the pink hue swirling in the cup, before joining Feyre at the table. "You're right, I should age, but there's this thing called the 'settling.' It's based on mana. The more mana you have, the more likely to reach immortality."

The apothecary glanced up at Feyre with a soft smile. "I stopped aging around... don't know, maybe 19 or 20 years old?" Feyre looked at her in astonishment, trying to reconcile the fragile appearance with the revelation of her age. "How old are you now?" she asked softly.

You smiled, reminiscing about your past travels as you glanced at your spellbooks and then back at Feyre while taking a sip of your tea. "I am roughly 300 years old this year, give or take a few," you admitted with a hint of nostalgia. "You tend to lose count on the road."

Brushing your long hair aside, you pulled up your sleeve, revealing the insignia of an adventurer guild—a small blossom marking. "This is from my guild," you explained. "I'm a mage, so I embark on journeys from time to time. It's how I honed my skills in concocting medicines and remedies."

Feyre looked taken aback, unable to sense any magic radiating from you despite your mage status and half-elven heritage. She was filled with questions, but time was fleeting, and there was much to be done.

As Feyre finished her tea, she felt a sense of urgency creeping in. "Listen... there's something that might be coming, would you watch my sisters?" The apothecary met her gaze with a reassuring smile. "I leave tonight for another quest, but the wards should be stable around their house. I'll reinforce them before I leave."

With a nod of gratitude, Feyre rose from her seat, her mind buzzing with newfound revelations. Little did she know, her visit to the apothecary would mark the beginning of a journey fraught with unforeseen challenges.

******

Certainly, unforeseen challenges indeed. In fact, the wards failed to hold as Hybern seized Feyre’s sisters while you were away on your travels seeking new spell books, a hobby of yours. Across the continent, whispers of war spread like wildfire. Perhaps this was what Feyre had alluded to—a war brewing on the horizon? After completing your quest, you returned home to find a letter from Feyre—a proposition of sorts.

“War is coming, we need healers like you to join us. Let me know your response when you see this.” 

Magic paper? Intriguing, something you will inquire about later on. You write your response. Perhaps, a new adventure wouldn’t be bad. You’ve never visited Prythian before. Given that elves used to be seen as slaves there, that elves were seen to be just one step above humans, being a half-breed who know’s where that would place you. Feyre was kind though, you knew that from the moment you met her. A war would be brutal, if the fae were asking for help, that meant it would be serious enough to involve others. 

“Sure, I’ll give my commitment for a few years,” you wrote. The paper vanished almost instantly, leaving behind a faint scent of smoke—a curious phenomenon indeed. Moments later, a message appeared, promising someone would visit you at the cottage within hours. With a shrug, you began to pack your belongings, including spell books, herbs, clothes, and trinkets. You were prepared.

That's when you met Mor, a lively fae whose energy belied her formidable power. She winnowed you to the healer’s cottage, where Madja, the head healer, resided. Mor apologized and hurriedly departed, leaving you to converse with Madja. The healer welcomed you warmly, showing you to a modest room furnished with essentials. The bed with white bedding and an old green quilt laid on top. Madja pointed out that the nights here might be too cold for creatures like yourself. 

"Haven't seen a human in years," she remarked as she led you to the apothecary storage room. "But I sense something else about you," a twinkle in Madja’s eye hinted at her awareness of your half-elven heritage. You responded with a smile, "Most don’t catch on too quickly," you murmured.

Madja returned your smile, her expression warm yet knowing. "You're probably the last of your kind," she remarked casually, her tone tinged with humor. "Your kind was always more focused on mana and magic than finding love. Perhaps your human side will help you with that," she teased, reaching for a mortar and pestle.

"Now, kid," Madja continued, her demeanor shifting to business-like. "I want to see what you're capable of. Make a few hundred healing potions—some for minor cuts and bruises, and others for those foolish soldiers who find themselves impaled one too many times."

You immersed yourself in your work, with Madja checking in every few minutes to monitor your progress. Impressed by your efficiency, she peppered you with compliments, acknowledging your skill. Together, you labored until late afternoon, the sun casting long shadows across the cottage.

Feyre stopped by to offer a brief greeting before departing to attend to war preparations and assist her newly transformed sisters. Their transformation weighed heavily on your conscience—if only your wards had been stronger, perhaps you could have prevented their fate. Pushing aside the guilt, you ground a few more herbs, determined to focus on the task at hand. Or perhaps you were trying to push that guilt away by keeping yourself distracted. 

The soothing scent of herbs filled the room, mingling with Madja’s quiet humming—a melody unfamiliar to you yet strangely comforting. You found solace in the routine of potion-making, a respite from the chaos of the outside world.

As you worked, memories of your travels surfaced—the thrill of discovering new spells, the camaraderie of fellow adventurers, and the satisfaction of aiding those in need. Though your main quest was to collect spells, you found fulfillment in helping others, a testament to your kind-hearted nature.

Completing the last batch of potions, Madja introduced you to the other healers, who welcomed you with open arms. Over dinner, you exchanged stories of your respective lives—Madja sharing tales of her long existence, while you recounted your travels across distant lands. The other healers listened in awe, their curiosity piqued by your adventures beyond Velaris. Constantly asking questions of your adventures, asking about the dragons you’ve came across. About the handsome warriors that you went through dungeons with. A smile tugged your lips as you bid them goodnight and headed to your room. 

As you lay on your bed, enveloped by the chill of the night air, you found comfort in the warmth of the quilt that Madja had provided. Retrieving a book about defensive magic from your bedside table, you delved into its pages, seeking solace in the familiar words until sleep claimed you. 

****

As the end of the first week approached, you found yourself manning the desk, processing orders for sleeping tonics, stomach remedies, and various other mundane requests. It was the less exciting aspect of your work, but you understood the necessity of attending to such matters. After all, not every day could be spent brewing exotic potions and elixirs. Madja had left to replenish the inventory and wouldn't return until nightfall. Before her departure, she mentioned that someone from the court would be coming to collect a 'private' order and instructed you not to charge them.

As you cleaned the countertop, the door creaked open, and a chilling breeze swept into the room, carrying with it the scent of mist and cedar, tinged with a hint of blood. You looked up and found yourself locking eyes with a figure standing in the doorway. My stars, he was strikingly handsome in a deadly sort of way—a sight that momentarily stole your breath away. You recognized him as an Illyrian, though you had never seen one before. There was something about his wings that instilled a sense of fear in you, even though they remained folded tightly against his back, shrouding his features in shadows.

Azriel dipped his head in acknowledgment, his golden gaze piercing as he spoke in a low, almost hypnotic tone. "I am here to pick up a prescription," he stated, his voice like a captivating melody that seemed to draw you in.

You nodded, trying to maintain your composure as you retrieved the bag containing the requested item. It was a rare occurrence for you to feel flustered, especially in the presence of another. As you handed him the bag, your hands brushed briefly, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth flood your cheeks. The label on the bag revealed its contents—a contraceptive tonic. Oh... he was an active male too.

Azriel murmured his thanks before casting a lingering gaze over you, his expression unreadable behind his hand. As he turned to leave, you couldn't shake the feeling of self-consciousness. Did you smell bad? Was your human heritage too obvious to the fae? Such thoughts raced through your mind as the door closed behind him, leaving you to ponder the encounter long after he had gone.

****

Azriel departed for the House of Wind, where a family dinner awaited. Elaine had begun emerging from her room, while Nesta remained ensconced in her moody disposition. Lucien had ventured to the continent, leaving an absence felt at the table. Feyre was already seated next to Rhys when Azriel arrived, discreetly passing the tonic to Cassian, who muttered a quick thanks before Azriel settled in beside him.

"I didn’t realize Madja had taken on a new apprentice," Azriel murmured, his gaze shifting to Mor as she joined Cassian. Feyre glanced at Azriel, her curiosity piqued. "You met her today? She’s a friend of mine from the village. I knew her growing up," she explained. Azriel took a sip of the wine passed to him by Cassian, his mind wandering to the petite healer who had left such an impression on him.

Elaine's transformation from human to fae had only heightened Azriel's attraction to her, raising questions about his preferences. Was he developing a preference for humans? Could he handle the brevity of their lifespans? Feyre's voice broke through his reverie, drawing his attention back to the conversation. "She’s half-elf too, are they rare?" she inquired.

Rhysand nodded, his expression softening as he delved into the history of elves and their dwindling numbers. "They used to be slaves for the Fae, around the same time as the humans," he began. "Perhaps that's why she has never been to Prythian until now."

He paused, his tone softening even further. "Also, the elves were known to lack emotions, which led to them not reproducing that often, ultimately to their demise. There’s a few around, but not many anymore."

As food was placed on the table, Azriel found himself consumed by thoughts of the healer. Her scent lingered in his mind, reminiscent of cherry blossoms on a warm day. Though he had only met her briefly, he felt an inexplicable pull toward her that tugged at his heartstrings. It was a feeling he had never experienced before.

An idea struck him. "Don’t we need to deliver the potions to the camps? I could help with that tomorrow, I finished the reports," Azriel suggested, turning to Rhysand. A smirk danced on the high lord’s lips—a silent understanding passed between them. "If you want," Rhysand replied casually, gesturing with a wave of his hand. "Perhaps show her around Velaris while you’re at it."

Azriel nodded, anticipation stirring within him. Tomorrow promised to be an intriguing day, his shadows seemed almost restless to meet the little healer again. A new sort of feeling fueled both him and his shadows.

[pupsmailbox]

GOTH ID PACK

NAMES ⌇　abby. ace. addam. alister. amelia. amoret. ange. angel. angelo. anubis. arch. archette. ash. aslan. aspen. astor. astoria. astrophel. atticus. axelle. azazel. azrael. bael. bat. batsy. bella. bellatrix. blade. blair. blanchette. brahms. branwen. cain. callan. calliope. cannibelle. caskeite. casketta. caskette. caspian. celeste. celestia. chaos. charlotte. cherry. chira. chiraelle. chiro. chiroptairre. chiroptelle. chiropteranne. choir. christian. cofette. coffin. coffine. constantine. corbin. corpse. crimson. crow. crowley. damian. damien. demonesse. divina. dorian. draven. edgar. elatha. elijah. elix. elwin, elwin. elwood. ember. emmaline. etienne. evan. evangeline. eve. faith. forest. forrest. frill. frille. frilleine. frilliette. frilly. genesis. ghost. gothita. gothitelle. gothitess. gothitesse. grey. gwen. gypsy. hades. hawthorne. hecate. hemlock. imortalle. imortella. iris. israel. jakob. jet. jett. johnas. josiah. judas. kain. kane. kedi. keir. lacey. laciene. laciette. lazarus. leo. lilith. lilithe. lolita. lucid. lucien. lucifer. lucius. luscious. lynx. maeve. malice. mana. martyr. max. melancholy. merle. micah. michael. misery. mordred. morris. mors. morte. mortis. mourge. mourgette. myrette. nightshade. noah. noctre. nocturne. noir. obsidian. oleander. omen. onyx. orion. orpheus. ozul. ozzy. prince. prophet. raven. ravenie. raveniette. rook. rowan. ruby. saber. saint. salem. samael. samuel. scarlet. secrette. seraph. serenity. shilo. shiloh. silas. silver. silvester. skelly. skulliene. skulliette. skully. sorrow. sylvester. syn. thorn. thorne. tobias. tommy. trix. umbriel. valkyrie. valo. vervain. vesper. victoria. ville. violetta. vito. vlad. woundie. zeon. zephyrine.

PRONOUNS ⌇　abby/abby. ae/aer. ash/ash. bat/bat. bleed/bleed. blood/blood. book/book. bug/bug. burn/burn. chain/chain. chap/chapel. chill/chill. claw/claw. cloud/cloud. cob/cobweb. cof/coffin. coffin/coffin. corps/corpse. creep/creep. cri/cross. cro/cros. cross/cross. cross/crosse. da/dark. dae/dae. dae/daem. dark/dark. decay/decay. dee/dark. des/despair. devout/devout. div/divine. dust/dust. echo/echo. edge/edgy. en/envie. fae/fang. fang/fang. fe/fear. fie/fiend. fog/fog. fri/frill. frill/frill. ghost/ghost. ghoul/ghoul. gore/gore. goth/goth. goth/gothic. gra/grave. grave/grave. ha/haunt. halo/halo. hie/hiem. ho/holy. holy/holy. horn/horn. hx/hxm. hy/hym. ink/ink. lace/lace. lae/lace. lost/lost. mist/mist. moon/moon. net/fishnet. ni/night. night/night. null/null. par/parasol. parasol/parasol. pray/pray. pray/prayer. proph/prophet. ro/rose. rose/rose. rot/rot. rust/rust. sac/sacrifice. saint/saint. scar/scar. shx/hxr. shy/hyr. si/sinister. sin/sin. sku/skull. skull/skull. snake/snake. spider/spider. spike/spike. sto/storm. stud/stud. thou/thorn. thron/thorn. thxy/thxm. vae/vaer. ve/ver. velvet/velvet. vo/void. whis/whisper. whisper/whisper. witch/witch. wood/wood. x/x. xae/xaer. × . ♠️ . ♣️ . ⚰️ . ⛓️ . 🌑 . 💀 . 🕯 . 🕷 . 🕸 . 🖤 . 🥀 . 🦇 .

[asksythe]

Soooo cute!!! Look how happy he is! And those things on Ritsuka are tiny bunny ears. Hah!

Commed art. Artist: Minh Nguyett

This piece is a companion to this other piece I posted before.

Ahh... I want to write a bunny!Ritsuka x Oberon story...

You know how once upon a time, a character being secretly some kind of magical creature or fantastical race was all the rage in fanfic writing?

I want to write something like that.

But how would that work with the game's presented canon of Ritsuka being the representative of humans / primates and being their Last Master?

Well, it's simple. Chinese folklores are chockful of creatures who toil for centuries and absorb the breath of the world (or, in Fate terms, mana) to transcend their beasthood and become... a human!

And since I think bunnies are tote cute, I want to write Ritsuka (F) as a young bunny from a den of already fairy magical bunnies, becoming a beloved pet to lonely, sickly-child Ritsuka (M) and through this shared friendship, she learns of all the wonderful things about being a human.

Ritsuka (F) adores Ritsuka (M) and so decides to embark on the long journey of cultivating to become a human and be his human friend.

Before she can complete her human transformation (curse those stubborn bunny ears and fluff tail that won't recede no matter what she does! How can Ritsuka be a real girl if she goes around with her bunny ears and tail still intact!?) and surprise her friend, he, unfortunately, passes away, leaving behind his dream of stepping foot outside his house for once and taking this parttime job with some company called CHALDEA!

So, in honor of her beloved friend, Bunny!Ritsuka takes up the mantle and the name Ritsuka and joins Chaldea in his stead, determined to do everything that Ritsuka (M) wanted to do in his name. But there's more to being a human than just having a human body (most of the time. She's still working on them ears and tail). Humans don't think like bunnies do, nor live like bunnies do. They have all kinds of weird, unspoken rules and expectations and silly limitations on what a young girl bun can and cannot do. Bunri has a lot to learn!

Of course, the story is Obegudako.

I really just want to write a scenario in which Bunri attempts a bunny mating dance with a clueless Oberon and her happily declaring to him that she would like to bear him one hundred kits or something.

This story shall be titled...

... Ritsuka-Chan wants to be a human!

Hmm... but what's the offspring of a magical Bunny-turned-human and a part-dragon-part-insect-part-fairy terminal device?

A Bunny Dragon? A Hopping Insect? A fae bunny dragonfly?

I know!

Their children are going to be the Rabbit of Caerbannog!

[yourdarlingness]

✦ Gothic Lolita ~ themed　names — prns — titles

╰　DAY 4 of @rumblepumm ' s event !

NAMES ︙　lilith . lilithe . gothita . gothitess(e) . raven . raveniette . ravenie . bella(trix) . corbin . lacey . laciene . laciette . frill . frille . frilly . frilliette . frilleine . skully . skulliette . skulliene . skelly . chiro / chiroptelle . chiroptairre . chiraelle . bat . batsy . chira . chiropteranne . coffine . cofette . casketta . caskette . caskeite . imortalle . imortella . mana . celestia . celeste

PRNS ︙　da(e) / dark . fae / fang . bat . fri / frill . lae / lace . cof / coffin . thou / thorn . par / parasol . ro / rose . sku / skull . 🦇 . 🖤 . 🌑 . 🥀 . ⛓️ . ⚰️ . 💀

TITLES ︙　the gothic lolita . the gothic [x] . the [x] with a parasol . prns gloomy majesty . prns shadow . the lolita of the night . prns elegant presence . the [x] of (rose and) thorns . the [x] of roses . the moon-kissed lolita . the gothic lolita of the castle . the lolita of moonlight . prns wilting rose . prn who dances under the moonlight . prn who is dressed in all black . the [x] in frills

[x] — any nouns　;　examples below

the angel with a parasol

the ghoul of (rose and) thorns

the idol in frills

[jangmi-latte]

I don't usually simp for Lilia because the game has made me look at him as our friendly neighborhood grandpa, but like.... imagine meeting General!Lilia while he's on duty- and maybe he helps us with something or we help him out- and from there on a romance slowly blossoms? Just... active duty Lilia who's yet to become Lili-pa and the whole 'waiting for my friend who I want to be my lover to visit me during his break from duty'

FRIENDLY NEIGHBORHOOD GRANDPA

good riddance mid-war/military romance?!?!? sign me up!!?!?? my brain has been going from camp-healer reader or to villager reader or subordinate reader or even agent reader (captain america and peggy carter type of romance)??? the possibilities are endless but since you emphasized helping we're going with villager who's also a healer reader.

/this can be descriptive and damn has it gotten long.

you can think of this being either fae or human reader but when you mentioned help, seeing an injured lilia who had to limp away from the camp after checking if his men are okay. so, he's in the middle of the woods hissing and sitting against a tree while lifting his clothing to see that big unhealing slash across his abdomen. the blood has already clotted but it's still dangerously huge and dirty and he's trying his best to heal it with his magic but it's concerning how he still feels the pain. plus, he needs to rest both his mana and body.

he will definitely try heating up one of his daggers to press on his wound but before he could even press the searing metal on his skin, that's when a hand stops him and pull the dagger away. it was a surprise, most especially for someone like him to be conscious of every single element around him.

you definitely look like a land of briar resident with your clothing. however, you look absolutely distressed and you're sweating so much it looked like you haven't bathed in days. he'd ask what are you doing but you keep your mouth shut and kneel down beside him. only then did he notice the belt strapped around your hips filled to the brim with antidotes and potions.

he's astonished, to say the least. he was in a daze while you're speaking and he was brought to his senses when he felt the burning sensation of liquid hitting his skin. it's literally smoking that he had to bite down on his gloved wrist to keep himself from screaming. his back arching off the tree while he's gripping your wrist. it hurt but hey, his wound his tingling and healing.

that's when he felt oddly...captivated by you. and as the old fae tradition goes, to he who was serviced must return the favor. he's just staring at you while taking deep breaths and you're looking around as if you're being watched. he assured you that you're safe with him and asked what do you want as gratitude for healing him but you just shook your head. stating that YOU are thanking him for defending the land.

all goes to say, he'd go to the said forest every now and then after you both departed, half-expecting to run into you. there were occasions he would see you crouched by a bush and plucking berries and herbs. he'd strike conversation, often surprising you with his silence and stealth. but eventually, you're warming up to him. he'd give you herbs you've mentioned needing that's only located across the other side of the land.

your presence was calming; during a war, peace was a far-fetched dream for a soldier, a general. when he's stressed, lacks sleep, and just exhausted he'd seek refuge in that very forest. he'd snap at you when you greet him but somehow, you're not affected. scary, yes. but you've known lilia from the constant meetings that you've brought some bottled mist that you claim can calm him down and give him a leveled-head again.

when he suddenly snaps his eyes open, that's when he realised he has fallen asleep without even noticing that he's definitely nonplussed. only then does he notice that he's laying on your lap while you're reading a book. he's bombarding you with questions but needless to say, he's really thankful.

baul would even notice lilia departing from the camp during breaks instead of eating with them that he's tempted to follow the general.

what can he do though? the general can find refuge somewhere else. more like...someone else.

to say he's catching feelings was questionable. other than malleficia, levan, baul, or mallenoa, he has never felt entirely close to someone outside of the royal guards or royalty. instinct driven need to protect you is there — that's what he feels towards the townsfolk anyways, that's what he tells himself.

just what have you done to the general...

might become a fic though 🫶🏻

[paperstarwriters]

hi hey hey eldritch MC who after being resurrected knows way more than they should, who although doesn't know how to walk or talk initially, somehow knows a spell that is so old it's never been written down. Reader who scares the M6 with how.... inhuman they seem to sometimes be.

Just one day while trying to practice and work on some basic magic lights or something you somehow create some sort of anti-light that coats the entire space in pitch black darkness. And it happens often, you just keep doing things that is not in any of Asra's books. They go looking on their trips for explanations or any advice on what to do or how to nullify these spells you somehow know, but the only bit of information they've gotten was from an elderly mage on their deathbed, recalling the spell from their grandfather.

And it's just one spell. Asra has the sinking feeling that all those unknown spells you pull from nowhere are just as old as that. Maybe they find something that sounds like your spell not in a grimoire but in a history book and that dread begins to grow because now it feels like confirmation. Somehow you have old magic in you. It must be the portion of the Fool that allows you to live.

Asra would try their hardest to teach you, even if it runs their hands red all over again, but gods sometimes you scare them. Unafraid, staring into the ball of wild magic that writhes in your hands, unaware of the way it makes your eyes glow with something unnatural.

Of course, they're less afraid of you possibly hurting them or being something so foreign and inhuman.

All they worry about is the fact that, despite knowing as much as they can about magic, they can't protect you from this. They still remember seeing you burn your hands from a sloppy fire spell, a simple silly little mistake that they easily knew how to manage and heal.

But what happens if you do something he doesn't know how to fix?

Half of the time his trips aren't leaving because of his heartache, his trips are him leaving in a panicked frenzy trying to figure out a way to neutralize a black hole, because you somehow seem to be growing closer and closer at being able to summon that.

And dear DEATH Asra saddling Muriel with taking care of you????

because Asra will always be afraid for you, but Muriel holds no qualms about being afraid of you. And he is afraid. He is downright terrified. He's spent enough time in the forest, enough time with the fae to know when something made of magic is dangerous, and the way your eyes light up in the shadows, the way they glow in the sunlight with something unnatural, the way the entirety of you seems to blur at the edges when you see magic that interests you, as if you were going to turn into a shapeless form of pure mana and consume the thing whole. Muriel just doesn't know what you'll do, what your body will do.

Because it's your body. Your body is strange and foreign. And even if he may have had qualms about you before he cannot deny how your awe and curiosity of the world makes his chest feel a little warm, makes him look at the world with a little more appreciation than before. Even though it prickles his spine just a little with it, knowing you're basically a monster parading around in human flesh seeing life from the human perspective for the first time, it still makes him smile a little when you see an animal, or even when you see Inanna, and you try to copy her, it still makes him feel sorry for you when an animal you're fascinated in runs away from you, picking up on the very same threats he feels.

He watches you stare down the carcass of an animal, dead from the sheer amount of mana you exude. And though you look sad, though your expression contorts into that of pity and sorrow, something glows in your eyes at the sight, a look almost akin to delight and he feels that fear return tenfold.

But over time, and with lots of research on Asra's side, and a lot of cold tolerance from Muriel, you learn to manage your powers you learn to manage your magic, and over the span of three years you develop into someone who seems upon first glance like a relatively normal albeit powerful Magic user.

......But sometimes you have your moments.

[dashofmonsters]

Bonds of Blood & Delight- Prologue

Male Fae x F!Reader

"A bard? They'll let anyone in here these days," the gate guard scoffs as he tosses your order badge back at you.

The badge nearly slips out of your hand but you manage to grasp it and refasten it to your cloak. You hate when people call you a bard, even if they're not exactly wrong. You're a mage of the Order of Delight. Yes, a lot of entertainers have come from it but there are serious mages who take their skills beyond just illusions and spell crafted songs.

"I've taken the aptitude test like everyone else and sent in my qualifying spells. I've been accepted because I meet the standards," you frown at the guard as he checks your name.

"Whatever makes you feel better. You'll take a left once the gate opens and go towards the west tower where all the first years go," He sniffles and opens the gate.

You collect yourself and walk forward, trying not to feel too ruffled by the bard comment any longer. You've made it this far on your own with your own brand of spells. You're the first mage in your order to invent new spells in over two hundred years as well as the first to get accepted into the High Tower of magic research and development.

Here you'll be able to make a difference, here you'll be able to learn real magic and create more spells for your order. That, and hopefully learn more about the alchemists that reside here.

You grind your teeth just thinking about them. Alchemy has earned high regards in the world of magical research as of late due to the metal refining and greedy nobles. But it's demanding and requires a lot of blood. Not just normal blood, but blood with mana. There are many black market back alley alchemists who've take to kidnapping anyone with magic in their blood. You're late twin brother perished at the hands of a noble's alchemist and you'd have been next if it wasn't for his newly hired mage. Hendrick was a mage of the Order of Delight hired to entertain but his real job was a search and rescue. Unfortunately, you were the only one left to rescue out of the dozens of orphans that were kidnapped, drained and killed.

If Hendrick hadn't saved you when he did, you'd have followed your brother into an early grave. You recall how he took you in, practically adopted you and taught you everything he knew and then some. He was loud and boisterous with a stage presence that put many seasoned performers to shame. Nobody would ever guess that he was actually a mercenary.

It's funny to think that the least suspecting mage order has the most mercenaries and assassins than any other. Or maybe it makes perfect sense, no one would suspect the killing blow to come from the pretty man playing the flute.

The Order of Delight's underground sect known as The Dirge. It's small with only thirty members and you've been tasked with infiltrating the High Tower. You've spent the last five years crafting new spells that would allow me to qualify to study here, I created a persona that would be unassuming yet stereotypical. No one will know why you're here, least of all those fucking alchemists.

Feeling a bit more resolved you set your nerves aside. This mission is incredibly important in bringing down the alchemy rings and kidnappings once and for all and you'd be lying if you said that you weren't nerve wracked.

Biting your cheek you continue on to the West Tower and up the long winding staircase. The air is heavy with magic and a strange scent of salt water and incense. A guard stops you once you reach the halfway point and asks for your name and order badge. He doesn't give you any grief about what order you're from, in fact he seems to not really care about anything at all.

You decide to start making note of the guards first then since they seem pretty relaxed.

He points to a door to his left where all first years are sorted one by one in an interview given by the head of the West Tower. You've heard very little about this mage save for the fact that they tend to favor those from their own base order. A Daybreaker mage, probably the most logical and pragmatic of anyone here.

You enter the waiting room and see several young mages sitting around a fire rune. You instantly recognize one of them, a childhood friend of yours before you and your brother were kidnapped.

"By the light of the moon!" He stands up and holds out his arms as he rushes to you.

"Luan, it's good to see you," you hug him as he picks you up off the ground.

He swings you back and forth before setting you down, "I know you said in your last letter that you were coming to the capital soon but I never imagined that you meant you'd be coming here."

"And what about you? When were you going to tell me that you got accepted to High Tower?" you playfully shove him.

"It was meant to be a surprise for when you got here," He grins.

You laugh and shake your head, "I can't believe we'll both be studying here."

Luan nods and his sweet smile slowly fades, "Yes, well and then there's that."

You raise a brow and before you can ask him what he's talking about an elderly mage calls for him for his interview.

"That'd be me, we'll talk about it later," Luan smiles and waves you goodbye.

Though it was brief, seeing Luan has eased your nerves a great deal. You two became mages around the same time. You were both rescued by Hendrick however Luan had a knack for shadow and dark magic so he joined the newly reformed Order of Night. The both of you kept in close contact when you were separated and always sent each other gifts for birthdays and holidays.

He'll probably be the only one here who won't laugh at the fact that you're from the Order of Delight.

You roll your eyes and take his place in the circle around the fire rune. The other mages there eye you with a mix of suspicion and curiosity.

"So...," one of them speaks up, a girl with a badge from the Order of Despair. "A bard? How the hell did you get accepted?"

Here we go, you sigh.

"I have a knack for illusion magic and spell song craft like most bards but I got tired of the old spells that didn't have much practical or everyday use so I invented new ones. The elders here heard about what I was doing and had me test in," you explain.

To be honest it's a half truth, the Order of Delight has a hidden book of spells that The Dirge has full access to. All the spells in it are unregistered so no one would be able to track them back to another mage. You were told to use three or four from the book for your qualifying spells but instead of taking credit you took inspiration. You invented thirty new spells but only sent in seven. Thirty would be too suspicious.

"Sounds like you should have tried for the Daybreak order, practicality is their specialty," another mage chimes in.

"I would have but my family wouldn't let me," you shrug. An easy excuse, most mage families like to stick to the same order.

"Ugh I get that," the girl from the Order of Despair groans. "My folks were the same way, I have light magic and know a few healing spells but no, I had to honor tradition learn mind speak and dream bending. Gods I hate traditionalist. My names Ruya by the way."

You introduce yourself and tell her your fabricated backstory, one that's a bit more cheerful and normal.

A couple other mages open up to you, both from the Order of Bones, Tarek and Ilta... Twins. They both wore the standard skull tattoos on their faces though it looked more menacing on Tarek. They both wanted to join the Order of Delight since they're strong in illusion magic but of course their clan refused them. You knew there was an issue with traditionalist but you had no idea that it was that bad.

"Tarek Falswith," the elderly mage calls to one of your new acquaintances.

He stands tall and stretches, his short black hair shining in the light of the fire rune making his skull tattoo all the more wicked. He glances down at you and smiles, "See ya later bard."

His sister laughs as he walks away, "Just ignore him, he's a stupid flirt. Got himself in trouble time and time again back at our Order."

"Noted," you laugh. "Not looking for love here anyways."

"Not the best place to find it honestly," Ruya adds.

"Our older sister is a third year here and oh the stories she could tell you," Ilta begins. You and Ruya listen to the tales of the twins' sister Asra and her encounters with the opposite sex.

And as she spins her tales, one by one the young male mages are called off to interview until there's only the three of you. Ruya gets called while Ilta is recounting the time her sister wore a deer skull for a month even while she slept and ate to freak out a few of her admirers.

"She sounds crazy," you laugh.

"Oh yes, most say she should have gone into the Order of Twilight with how chaotic she is. But alas-"

"Tradition," both of you say then laugh.

"Ilta Falswith," the elderly mage calls.

Ilta mimics her brother, adding in a wink and the both of you giggle.

"See ya later bard," Ilta mocks her brother again but her voice sounds just like his.

You can't help but to be amazed and amused all at once and laugh as she walks away.

And then it's just you, or so you though.

"Good evening Thaneswell," an elderly voice rumbles your last name.

From the center of the fire run circle a figure slowly appears. An elderly man seated on a simple wooden stool. He's wearing a worn greyish blue cloak with a silver badge from the Order of Daybreak. His eyes are a milky white and his boney fingers tap gently on his lap.

Realizing who he is, you quickly stand up and bow your head.

"None of that now, none of that," He waves a hand and the fire rune dissipates. Ever so slowly he stands up, circling his hand in the air until a staff appears and falls into his hand.

"There is no need to bow amongst kin," he smiles.

You thought it was odd that you and one of the highest mages of the Order of Daybreak shared the same last name, it had to be a coincidence right?

"I did my own digging, my late brother was your maternal grandfather. He was a mage of the same order you belong to, and the same sect as well," He straightens as he starts circling you.

Your nerves reignite and you feel your gut sink.

"The family Thaneswell is not traditional and has members across every order there is. You of course wouldn't know this as your mother passed before you and your late brother were of age. This was," He waves his hand to another door that slowly opens on its own.

"Then my acceptance?" you ask.

"By your own skill, I'm not apart of the qualifying department. I put young mages where they need to be. Skilled and bright mages come here all the time to break from tradition and free themselves from bonds of a family or order. You met three such mages today did you not?" He asks as he lights up the room with a flick of his wrist.

The small room is filled with light crystals and fairy bobbles that produce a soft warm glow. Nic knacks of all sorts both mundane and magical line the shelves and a fat horned cat stretches across the large oak desk.

"Have a seat wherever you can find one," he chuckles as he lowers himself into a puffy armchair.

You turn and look for a chair but you only see mounds of books, small side tables and a taxidermy deer. Small side table it is.

Grabbing a table you pull it up close to the side of the desk as the front is occupied by an old dire wolf laying on a large pillow.

"Now then, let's get down to business. First off within close quarters you may call me uncle, I'd prefer it since we're family. You are after all the only closest living relative I have now," He sighs.

"Wait but you said our family has members in every order," you recall.

"Yes and because of that most of us have become estranged. My brother and his kept close but as the years went by, they were picked off one by one. I only learned of your existence after Hendrick rescued you. I'm so sorry about your brother... had I known... Why your mother never said anything..." he pauses and you see the grief on his face.

"She kept us close to the forest border, in one of the dump villages," you tell him.

His wrinkled face crumples and cringes, "By the gods why would she do that?"

"Hendrick said that the likelihood of us getting kidnapped at a dump village would be slim since the sick and dying are rarely ever kidnapped," you shrug.

"I'm so sorry, there must be more to this... I just know it but at least you're as well as well as can be," He sighs. "Now then, you're a member of The Dirge sect. Very few high mages know of it and I'm only privy of your mission as I'm the one who hired a mage to carry it out. It must have been Hendrick who threw your name in for it."

You blink once, twice and your mouth gapes wide open, "You're the one who- Wait a moment, you know why I'm here then and-"

"The alchemist rings are more corrupt than you can imagine. Both registered and unregistered, back alley and black market. If things continue on as is our nation will have the largest human trafficking outbreak in history. The Western Empire is already calling on our king to put an end to it since citizens of the empire have gone missing in the past few years. They've been putting more and more pressure on his majesty by raising taxes on goods and banning travel between our countries," he taps the desk before slamming his hand down.

"And the laws he made banning unregistered alchemy have been nothing more than a joke, I know. The Dirge has brought down at least fifty rings in the last few years but there seems to be no end to them. What in gods name are they after?" you lean forward, hoping your uncle will have some sort of answer.

"The same foolish thing the registered alchemists are after, immortality. Or at the very least, the next best thing. Long and youthful life, like that of a fae," he waves his hand and a book flings off the shelf and flies right to you.

"The War of Iron and Blood, a history book?" you start to pry the book open but it flings itself to a page near the very end.

"The book leaves out the most important part until the end. A fae specializing in Blood magic was caught and arrested. He is immune to iron and is able to heal himself if he wishes. Since those days long long ago, he has been held here, has been studied, has been bled for research with no real end in sight. I can only imagine what little hope he has if any," the high mage looks up towards the door.

A soft knock rasps the old wooden door, "Mage Thaneswell, it's Dargan, you called for me?"

"Yes yes, come in," your uncle flicks his finger and the door opens.

A tall and lanky mage shuffles in and slowly removes his hood. His skull tattoo looks rather odd on his face with how sunken in his eyes are and how gaunt he is.

"As you'll need to be focusing on your upcoming graduation I've decided to pass off your job to this first year. As you know all fourth years are to hand off their jobs to the new students. I've already given her a history lesson, the rest is up to you Dargan. Oh and once you're done, you'll be allowed a three week respite to recover," the high mage looks to you and nods towards the other mage.

Dargan bows a few times to your uncle and thanks him over and over before he grasps your shoulders, "Of course, yes, I'll get them up to speed and have them trained before then end of the day! Leave everything to me Mage Thaneswell."

"Yes and oh, once you're done could you give my niece a tour of the grounds? I'd do it myself but these old bones don't move like they used to," he smiles.

The Bone mage looks at you and then at the high mage, "Niece? Oh uh yes, yes of course."

Your uncle smiles and waves you off, "I'll be calling you back for a visit soon but please come and see me of your own accord when you can."

Dargan shuffles you out of the office and the door closes behind the both of you. His wide eyes look down at you as he continues to rush you out of the waiting room and down the tower stairs.

"What a horrible thing to do," he shakes his head. "To his own flesh and blood."

"Wait what are you talking about?" you ask.

Dargan stops and grabs your wrist, "This way, not here."

He pulls you aside and leads you down a path that takes you to the North Tower. It hikes up the wall and into a breezeway. The Bone mage looks around and when he's sure no one is in sight he has the two of you sit on the stone cold floor.

"Tell me truly, is High Mage Thaneswell really your uncle?" he asks.

"Great uncle but I fear we're missing the point here so-"

"You're from The Dirge then?" Dargan asks.

Your eyes widen and you grit your teeth but nod.

Dargan lifts his sleeve and reveals a scythe, "The Order of Bones has a similar sect."

"Reapers, I've heard of them," you nod.

"Mage Thaneswell has been hiring from all mercenary sects to take care of the alchemist rings. Myself and four others have been slowly cleaning up the High Tower these last few years, it hasn't been easy." Dargan stars and lays his head against the wall. "I suppose I should begin with what will be expected of you."

The Bone mage details your upcoming job and schedule, the grim nature of it all unsettling you the more he speaks. You're to become the jailor to the captured blood fae. You are to feed him, check his vitals, and collect his blood. You are not to speak to him, not to listen to him if he utters a single word, and you are not allowed to let him bleed unless collecting his blood.

Fear coils in your belly as Dargan tells you all the horrid things the fae could do if he was allowed to bleed out. Slice you up with his blood, set his cell on fire, undo the runes cast upon his chains or turn his blood into weapons and massacre the entire Tower. High Mage Thaneswell doesn't want that, he just wants him to take down the alchemists.

"Your uncle believes if we can find a way to free him that he'll be in our debt and will by the laws of the fae carry out the bounty against the alchemists," Dargan sighs. "Quite the pipe dream huh?"

"Very much so, but fae are keener on magic and can track down different users way better than mage hounds. Plus, he'll have a personal vendetta against them so he might be all for it," you agree and lay your head back as well.

"Still kinda fucked up that he's making his niece take on this job though," Dargan puffs. "But he must have his reasons."

"It's probably because I'll work closely with the Tower's alchemist ring. The more eyes on them the better," you note.

"True, but I rarely spoke with them and even if I showed any interest they kept me mostly in the dark. Get the blood, hand over the blood, and leave. That was the preferred sequence of things," he shrugs.

"Well, fuck..." you groan as you sag against the wall.

Dargan laughs and fishes something out of his pocket, "Here, it's a pass to the Tower. You'll need this to get in, get to the third level and to the cell."

You take the pass and grimace as the blood red runes carved into the small black iron tablet. You could feel the magic resonating off of it, feel it draining a tiny bit of your life essence. You quickly wrap it in your cloak.

"Disgusting, isn't it? They say the pass doubles to strengthen the runes on the Blood Fae's cell. I've tried my best not to over handle it but sometime the alchemists will examine the pass and if there's not enough life in it, they'll make you hold it all day. This job is super fucked up," Dargan snarls and slowly stands then offers his hand.

"Thanks for the heads up I guess," you allow him to help you up then stretch. "Anything else that I should be worried about?"

Dargan shrugs, "Not really, well that's a lie. I'd worry about you dorm placement. Mage Thaneswell pulled some strings and had me bunking with other mercs but I'm not sure how many he's hired this time around."

You nod knowing that it costs a lot to keep up this kind mission. You don't know if he's being funded by the King or if this is his own personal project but hiring you alone costs over three thousand gold.

"I'll introduce you to the alchemists and show you where the cell is real quick before I show you the grounds. Since it's hardly midday we have some time before your sorting," he beckons you to follow and leads you back out of the breezeway.

He takes you back down the wall path and towards the Central Tower, a massive and ancient mage tower built over a thousand years ago before the great culling of the Order of Night.

You feel the magic rolling off in droves with every step you take. The different auras confusing your senses and causing your gut to roil. Dargan places a supporting hand on your shoulder and holds up a hand before chanting a spell that shields the both of you from the onslaught of magic.

"Overwhelming isn't it? Someone here will cast a longer lasting shield on you once you start working. Try not to throw up on the stairs if you feel the shield fading, not only will they make you clean it up but they'll have you manually clean to toilets too," Dargan cringes.

"Sounds like you've been through a lot of hell here," you grimace.

"Hell would be nice in comparison. There's no graces here, no mercy nor kindness to be found. The Central Tower is where mages are truly tested, young and old. Are you certain you can handle this?" Dargan takes a step back and looks at you.

There's real concern on his face, something you feel like you haven't seen in ages. His dull dark red eyes search your face for hesitance and close once he realizes that there's none.

"I have my own reasons for being here, personal and sad as they are," you shrug. "But things can't continue on like they have been."

He nods his head and continues up the stairs, "Fair enough, well then, welcome to the Central Tower." Dargan flourishes his hand and bows. Turning on his heals he points to a bulky guard leaning against the wall, "And this good fellow is Max."

Dargan exchanges introductions between the two of you and has you show the pass. Max opens the barred door to the tower where you're ushered up a series of staircases till you reach the third floor. You're introduced to another guard, Gildred, who you show your pass to. Before you're able to say farewell, Dargan leads you into the third floor lab and quickly shuts the door.

You try and catch your breath but the Bone mage drags you along and takes you down a hall that leads you to a circular room. Several mages clad in maroon cloak turn and glare at you.

"Dargan... has it really been four years?" One of them asks.

"Yes high mage Cragsith. This is my replacement, young mage Thaneswell," he introduces you.

"A Thaneswell? And of.... The Order of Delight? How... Amusing," High mage Cragsith chuckles. "Very well, I assume she's been educated?"

"Yes high mage, of course," Dargan bows his head.

"Good, then you may leave. Estan will show her to the cell, you should hurry and take your respite. I know exams will be starting next month," He waves Dargan off with a limp hand.

Dargan bows and exits with haste, leaving you alone with the High Tower's alchemists.

"You've caught us at an excellent time, we're needing a fresh batch of blood. Estan will take you down and show you the ropes," Cragsith beckons to a hunched figure.

"Follow me," Estan orders and shuffles towards the middle of the room. He places his hand on the central supporting pillar and a door appears shortly after. It opens to reveal a lift that will take you down to the Tower's prison.

Estan tells you that all vials are kept in a desk outside the fae's cell and on a normal day that you'll receive a slip with how many you are to fill.

"He's basically docile at this point. Hasn't been an incident in over two hundred years. It's an easy job, just taxing as I'm sure Dargan has mentioned," Estan says in an oddly comforting way.

Once you're down under the tower and exit the lift, Estan leads you to the fae's cell. He pulls out nine vials from a drawer in the desk and checks them for cleanliness, "Don't want anything but his blood in these."

After his inspection he has you place the pass in a slot on the wall next to the cell. You fell just the faintest bit of your life force slip as the locks turn and door opens ever so slightly.

There's a dank smell that wafts in your nose and the sudden charge in the air has every hair standing on edge.

Estan hands you eight of the vials to hold as he escorts you in. You fear that you might find a horrid and fiendish fae as Dargan lead you to believe but instead all you see is a sad one, bound in chains and leathers with living runes.

What was probably once lovely long flowing black hair is now matted and tangled in several areas. His eyes and mouth are covered with greyish leather that have ancient magic imbued in them. His skin is sickly pale and nails are curled from neglect.

The fear and nerves you felt entering this place disappear and are quickly replaced with pity and then something else. A deep need to free him settles into you and it's one that's beyond your mission or any ethical reason. You feel sicked and in pain at seeing him like this.

"It's just a quick prick right here, same spot every time," Estan interrupts your thoughts as he points to a tattoo of a circle on the fae's arm. As he goes to poke it you quickly ask if you can.

"I learn better by doing is all, that and I want to do well with this job," you say with full fake determination.

Estan chuckles and hands his vial and needle over to you, "I get it, I was the same when I was a student here. Not going to lie, but you're the first Cragsith has really acknowledged this fast, well aside from myself. Maybe he sees some promise in you."

Or maybe he's warry of me being a Thaneswell, you think.

Not wanting to drop your facade, you go and draw the fae's blood.

Bile quickly threatens your throat but you do well in holding back the vomit.

This feels so wrong that it's hard to stomach, is this a curse that the fae has in place? Why didn't Dargan tell you? Maybe you'll ask your uncle later... But first, to fill the other eight vials.

It takes all your strength and will power not to throw up while extracting the fae's blood but you somehow manage. After Estan takes you back up to the third floor and sings praises about your enthusiasm do you ask to be shown to the bathroom.

Once your stomach is empty you resolve to find and beat Dargan black and blue for leaving out the part about wanting to blow chunks when extracting blood.

You stomp your way out of the central tower and down the path to the east but quickly stop in your tracks when a notice echoes through the grounds.

"All first years to the North Tower for dorm sorting. I repeat all first years to the North Tower for dorm sorting," the voice rang.

And before you could take another step you found yourself being lifted for a moment, cold dark air rushing around you, and then you were set back down amongst a crowd right outside the North Tower.

A few others look around in confusion but for the most part people just shrug it off as typical tower magic.

"Hey, over here," you here a familiar voice.

You turn and see Ruya with Ilta, Tarek, and Luan. Quite the odd ball group but you're about to make it weirder, being a bard and all.

"I heard you got to go to central tower, how was it?" Tarek asks.

"And who'd you hear that from?" you raise a brow at him and he grins.

"From a senior of my sect, Dargan," he smiles and shows his reaper mark.

Before you can ask, Ruya, Ilta, and even Luan all flash their arms with the subsect marks on them. They all tell you how they each ran into their seniors here and took on jobs close to or in the central tower. The twins have jobs in the library near the central tower, Ruya brings meals up for the alchemists, and Luan is set to clean the equipment for the central tower.

"Dargan said there's a high chance that we'll get bunked with other subsect members as the Dorm Matron works directly with high mage Thaneswell," Tarek smiles and looks at Luan, "No weird shadowy shit."

"Then I hope you'll keep your knives and bones on your side of the dorm," Luan smiles.

Ilta smacks her brother's arm and Ruya rolls her eyes.

You can feel this group's dynamic setting in place already.

"All first years, dorm mothers will be coming around with dorm assignments. These assignments are final and we expect no complaints. Once you have you receive your dorm and room token you will be teleported there. Potions for teleportation sickness are on the stands outside the rooms if needed," another announcement rings.

Your group looks around for dorm mothers, all middle aged or elderly mages wearing light blue cloaks with yellow ribbons. You've heard many stories about the dorm mothers here and how even the highest mages offer their respects to them. They're truly a force to be reckoned with.

"Here you are... Thaneswell's bunch," A dorm mother approaches your group and looks everyone up and down before turning to Tarek and Luan. "The two of you will go to Mother Margo's dorm, you'll be bunking in room eleven. Here are your tokens."

The two of them reach out their hands with slight hesitation but once they touch the tokens, they vanish.

"I have to say, that's gotta be the second fastest I've seen my brother disappear," Ilta smiles.

"What was the fastest then?" Ruya asks.

"When he found out he broke up with the head Reaper's daughter," Ilta laughs.

"You three," the dorm mother glares at us and then at Ilta, "I expect you to be prompt, never out past curfew, and not a meal skipped. I am your dorm mother, Mother Beatrice. You'll each have your own rooms, connecting. Seven, eight, and nine."

You look at the girls but before either can say anything, Ruya reaches out for her token and vanishes. Ilta smiles at you and shrugs before taking hers. Taking a deep breath in you reach for room token nine and feel yourself being flung around.

Left and right, right then right again. You feel as if you're passing through sheets like a child running through laundry on a sunny day. Warm and cold air take turns at slapping your body before you suddenly snap to a stop and your body slams right into a door with a hard thud.

"Ow," you moan as you peel yourself off the door. Your face stings where it met the hard wood.

You look around and see Ruya doubled over holding an empty potion bottle with Ilta rubbing her back.

"Going to be alright over there?" you ask.

Ruya nods but stays down.

"She was slung into her stand and it knocked the wind out of her," Ilta winces.

"This is why I hate teleportation, too volatile and under studied. Now I know why the fae rarely use it themselves," you cringe at the thought of being teleported again anytime soon.

After the three of you check yourselves over for any wounds and sickness you part to your own rooms.

Your room is cozy and well furnished. A few wooden boxes lay on your bed with a few notes. The first note is a greeting from the towers and what to expect in the coming days. The second is from Mother Beatrice with a list of rules and a meal schedule. The third is from the central tower... A letter just for you.

"Good evening young Thaneswell,

We welcome you to the central tower and have high hopes for you. Estan spoke highly of you and your eagerness, a most welcomed delight, as Dargan was most melancholic. Estan will continue to escort you to the cell for the next ten days as he trains you. We look forward to having a mage with your enthusiasm."

You feel your stomach churn as you finish reading the letter. You quickly crumple it up and toss it in the waste bin.

Something about being on their good side this quickly unsettles you but you'll do your best to turn it around and use it to your advantage. You can't let this continue, too many innocent lives are at stake and you're not sure how much longer your great uncle can keep funding missions like this.

With that resolve you go through the boxes next, supplies and a uniform. Papers, books, ink, and pens. A first year's dark brown cloak and knee high boots with metal plates on the toes and knees. There's a map with local shops and a post office where mages who come to study can send letters and receive parcels.

Next you notice a small wooden box with a stamp from the West tower. You open the lid and see a small mirror, a pouch, a dagger, and a note. You quickly unfold the note and it has instructions on how to use the mirror.

"Use the dagger to prick your finger and sign this rune with your blood. I will be alerted that you wish to speak with me. Only use this in your room or in dire emergencies."

You have a gut feeling that he wants you to try it out know so you prick your finger and write out the rune on the mirror. Within seconds it lights up and an image of your uncle shoots up from it.

"I'm glad my gift has found you. Though I wish we could chat longer I have the head Matron of the dorms coming up to see me. I'll keep this short, get the fae to speak. Get him to talk, get him to listen, and get him on our side," your uncle orders.

You nod but feel sick as you do, "Understood, but I must ask, is there a curse on him?"

The high mage's brows knit in confusion, "Why do you ask?"

"I...I took his blood and I felt sick and there was this wrongness. Like I couldn't stand that I was hurting him, it was odd," you mention.

Your uncle's eyes widen but he says nothing for a few moments too long, "No, no curse. Keep me updated on these, odd feelings. I must go now."

The image of your uncle vanishes and instead of getting an answer to your question, you feel like you've gained a long list of inquiries that will be left in the box.

"What have I gotten myself into," you groan as you flick your wrist and move your things off the bed so you can fling yourself onto it.

At least I'm not alone, you think as you curl up and slowly pass out.

[the-east-art]

Teleportation in Hagstone is technically possibly but in actuality very difficult. To teleport from one place to another, you need to bypass all three layers of magic (body, soul, and mana). Since there is not being (save one very old Fae) who possessed all of these it is impossible to do alone or spontaneously. Usually transpiration can be done but only if there are spell circles at both the start and the destination, and strong casters in all three magics to push the person through.

[writing-heiress]

The Red Hoods

The Red Hoods are an organization of elite hunters and huntresses who dedicated to slaying any dangerous and rouge monsters and protecting the people of Twisted Wonderland. The founder of the Red Hoods is Ruby, who is better known as Little Red Riding Hood. It’s an organization that anyone could join; magic or magicless, human, beastmen, merfolk, or fae, it doesn’t matter.

The members of the Red Hoods are best known for the red hoods that they all wear whenever they leave home. The reason for keeping it on when going outside was just in case a rouge monster appeared and people needed to track a Red Hood down for help. It’s considered to be a sort of uniform for people to recognizes a Red Hood.

Like any hunter and huntress, Red Hoods always have a weapon on them. These weapons are always made with mana, which allows the monsters to be killed. A Red Hood can design and build their individual weapons, allowing each set of weapons to have the personality that matches its user. The more common types of weapons are axes, guns, swords, and dual blades.

Red Hoods also have a special relationship with canine beasts. These canines serve as extra protection for their respective Red Hoods as well as a hunting partner and guide when going through a dense forest. They are granted a canine that they raise as a pup so that they could form a bond. Hellhounds, church grims, & garmrs are common species for a Red Hood’s wolf.

Monster Lovers AU Masterlist

Tagging — @adrianasunderworld @abyssthing198 @the-trinket-witch @the-weirdos-mind @liviavanrouge @queen-of-twisted @ice-cweam-sod4 @absolutepokemontrash @tragedytells-tales @fair-night-starry-tears @mangacupcake @yumeko2sevilla @yukii0nna @achy-boo @boopshoops @zexal-club

[darkburning]

random mana-isms be like : mana left egypt for five years, traveling around and learning from multiple masters until she became a great magician. when she came back to the palace, she had matured greatly taking the same composure magi magi had. aside from physically growing up though, her eye color changed from aquatic blue to magenta ---- a symbol of her new found mastery over the dark arts.

[tgrailwar-zero]

You watched as MUSASHI heeded your instructions, heading right before reaching a courtyard. She furrowed her brow, looking around the streets as she slowly walked forward, like a hunter stalking her play.

MUSASHI: "Come out, come out, wherever you are… I promise, it'll hurt less if you don't struggle as much."

She was actually pretty good at playing a more antagonistic character. You could see JAGUAR MAN subtly nodding with approval at your role choice.

The Saber approached the hall, stepping inside. The sight was… unsettling, to say the least. A ton of dolls, dancing in a stilted waltz, walking around. Inhuman puppets, each of them.

MUSASHI: "Talk about creepy..."

PRETENDER: "So everyone else is just puppets... I can't imagine what this could be trying to represent, perhaps it's a quirk of the arena?"

MUSASHI: "What? Woah--!"

Out of the corner of her eye, several projectiles shot towards her. Several small wooden spears, shot at a brutal pace, jabbed into the ground- a couple of which grazing past MUSASHI's legs. She let out a yell, stumbling backwards as she looked for the source. PRETENDER, off to the side, attempted to dash back into the shadows where he had emerged from, but was a moment too slow as the blades connected.

PRETENDER: "Ghh!"

You could tell from that one slash that PRETENDER was pretty badly injured just from that one attack- he didn't seem to be a Servant exactly stacked when it came to 'defenses'. He vanished again, disappearing into the darkness, his voice melodic yet taunting as he spoke to MUSASHI from 'somewhere'.

PRETENDER: "Ah… as expected of such a fearsome samurai. Your reputation proceeds you, as always. I'm honored to be your first opponent, though I can't help but lament."

JAGUAR MAN: "Mn. A bit premature for a monologue, but I guess being long-winded fits the character. He's got a good voice for yapping, I'm sure the ladies love it. The fellas too. Everyone, really."

PRETENDER: "And I was thinking to myself… well, there's no way for me to beat you head on. You're powerful, much more powerful than I am. I could make strategies for the others, discern their weaknesses and use my wits to find a path to victory, but you're as beautiful as you are smart as you are deadly. And so… with your talents with blades, I should use my own talents, right?"

Suddenly, he appeared before MUSASHI in a flash of sparkles and whistling winds, two brilliant moth-like wings unfurling behind him as he hovered in the air. It was theatrical in its execution, like he was being suspended by wires in a grand stage showing.

PRETENDER: "You have such a troubled past, I know. Seeing these dolls... you've slaughtered countless more individuals than the ones in this ballroom, haven't you?"

MUSASHI: "...Shut your mouth."

PRETENDER: "Shadowed by the violence of your commanders and your own soul, don't you want to live a little bit happier than you are now? Allow me to grant that wish."

He held out his hands, motes of light drifting from them. No, not just from his hands, but all around the two Servants. MUSASHI didn't waste a second, beginning to sprint forwards to close the gap.

MUSASHI: "A Noble Phantasm…! You're resorting to that, this early?! I mean, I'm sure it's a 'wow, finally' moment for people who have known you, but think of the audience?! Where's your sense of suspense!"

She rushed forward. It was a matter of speed, if each strike she made was a 'critical hit', then she'd have him down in no time. Her eye glinted- a perfect strike to end the fight. A single issue. The pikes that were shot into the ground began to dissolve into black mud, and several fae familiars emerged, grabbing the sword saint by the legs. They were light, and you could see that they weren't heavily hindering her movement, but it was enough.

A moment off. Slower on the draw by a millisecond.

The PRETENDER clapped his hands together, a pulse of powerful mana surging from behind him, the very fabric of the world changing in a brief instant as the camera's caught a glimpse of a beautiful autumnal forest, before the illusion collapsed in on itself and centralized itself entirely on MUSASHI.

PRETENDER: "…Lai Rhyme Goodfellow."

MUSASHI: "...!"

Her footing slipped, her body going limp as the magic centered on her, as the PRETENDER gracefully caught her resting form. He laid her down on the ground, keeping her face visible. A veritable sleeping beauty, as he hovered over her, his expression enigmatic.

PRETENDER: "…Start the count, please."

You heard the heavy ring of a bell. One. The count was starting.

The cameras switched back to the PRIEST.

PRIEST: "In a surprising move, the Winter Prince plays his trump card first. By all accounts, the Samurai is rendered unconcious, and has ten seconds to awaken and resume fighting, or else victory will belong to the Prince."

CLEOPATRA: "Woah! Our blademaster beauty is on the ground! Is this a premature end for such a promising fighter?"

PTOLEMAIOS: "...'Tis not enough."

CLEOPATRA: "Mm? You're saying there's a chance for a comeback?"

...Not enough?

You looked at the sleeping MUSASHI on the screen, and saw her twitching, subtly.

Whatever this Noble Phantasm was, it was a deep-sleep spell... but MUSASHI also had Magic Resistance of the near-highest rank as a Saber. She'd wake up, but it was a question of how quickly... time was running short, which meant that waiting for a natural 'waking' may not be in the cards.

JAGUAR MAN: "Well… that ain't good. For the ratings, I mean. We billed your Saber as a top-class fighter, if her first fight ends with her losing via nap, that'll make me look bad too! I'll lose all my credibility as a scout! I mean, maybe not completely since this is a really good showcase for 'Jeran', but I have a stake in you guys!"

She grabbed you by the shoulders, shaking you vigorously.

JAGUAR MAN: "C'mon, what's the plan here?! We've got 10 seconds!"

-

MUSASHI'S STATS:

MUSASHI took a hit from PRETENDER! She's lost a point of Endurance!

ENDURANCE GAUGE: [X/X/X/X/X/ ]

MANA CHARGES: [X]

(When her Endurance reaches 1, she'll go unconscious! Different choices will have a differing effect on her Endurance!)

[twisted-art-wounders]

The fairies that exist in my Fairy YGO AU Yugi is a normal fairy whose best friends with the fairy king Atem; he's very curious and wants to know about humans and human world. One day he meets a human girl named Anzu who he accidentally shrinks down to fairy size and then shrinks her even smaller when trying to change her back. He seems to be okay with her being that size but Anzu doesn't so now he's on a quest to help put her back to her normal height.

Mana is an apprentice sorceress studying under Mahad the high fairy Magician. When Yugi brings Anzu to her she's very excited to meet a real human even at such a small size, she hopes to study her but tells Yugi she can't undo his spell since it may shrink her even more! They must wait for the Mahad to return form his trip with the King. In the meantime Anzu needs to get used to her new size.

King Atem the current ruler of the forest and closest friend to Yugi, he tries his best to be a wise ruler and hopes to keep peace in the forest. Despite the need to keep away form humans Atem is more willing to establish trust with them and hopes with Anzu's help they can. But he still faces opposition from his court who don't want any form of change, so he needs to do his best to prove to them humans can be trusted.

Mahad is Atem's right hand and the highest sorcerer in his court, blessed with powerful magic Mahad made it his sworn duty to protect Atem and their home in the forest. While out scouting a lead about humans at the edge of the forest, he and Atem were attacked by Bakura. Luckily Mahad managed to stop him form harming Atem but this put him on high alert, and now with a shrunken human to worry about things have gotten more stressful for him.

Bakura is from a hidden fae village that no longer exists, he is the soul survivor of a forest fire that wiped them all out. He knows the reason his village was destroyed was to distract humans form finding the main fairy kingdom, so he blames the current king for this. With his familiar Diabound by his side he launches an attack on the fairy kingdom, planing to kill the current king and find the heart of the forest so he can gain the power needed to wipe out all humans.

He discovers Anzu and decides to use her to manipulate Yugi into giving up the location of the heart of the forest. He can change sizes as well but with the power of the artifact he'll get even bigger and more powerful.

Anzu a new intern at Kaiba Corp sent out to find a rare flower that can act as a cure for many illnesses (or so they tell her), she finds herself shrunken down to the size of a fairy after meeting Yugi. At first she's upset about her new size and the fact she's gonna miss out and a big promotion but once she starts to emerge herself in the world of the forest she starts to have second thoughts about her role in KC. Yugi shares the location of the Heart of the Forest and even shows it to her, but now she has to decide to either keep this secret or tell her superiors who will no doubt descend upon the forest and destroy it in order to obtain the artifact.