#mel with tiny horns and wings

[librathefangirl]

actually scratch the list i need to know EVERYTHING

Well, let me tell you about a few more then. Let's talk about these:

The Loss in Victory (Emptiness)

Losing a Part of Me (Is Like Losing a Part of You)

Mel with tiny horns and wings

As the Night Falls

Pirate Melban AU

The Loss in Victory (Emptiness)

This is the Zeldris angst fic I was talking about back in... September, I think it was? It's supposed to be for Day 31 of Whumptober, and the prompt "Emptiness". (So the actual fic title is just "The Loss in Victory"). It's a hurt/no comfort fic taking place during the First Holy War. Basically, Zeldris struggles with the news that Meliodas is dead, and also struggles with the fact that it is actually hitting him that hard because:

He should be happy about this, yet all he felt was like someone had taken a big chunk of him out, leaving an empty nothingness where his hearts were supposed to be.

And here is a longer sneak peek:

As Zeldris made his way down the hallways, they parted before him. Anyone standing in his way quickly moved out of the way, letting him pass without any hesitation. If anything, it seemed people kept their distance from him more now than ever. Perhaps it was due to the urgency of his walk, or the tension in his posture, or maybe it was whatever showed across his face. Zeldris couldn’t tell. It was all a blur to him, nothing but the insistent need to get away, get away, get away! He was desperately holding onto the last shred of his composure like a lifeline. He was exposed out here, feeling the gazes of everybody he passed. He had to get away, to his own room. There, at least, nobody was watching, granting him the small piece of privacy he needed right now.

Losing a Part of Me (Is Like Losing a Part of You)

And here we have another demon bros angst fic. Also focused on the effect of the war/them being on different sides/Meliodas' curse. This time with focus on Meliodas. You can actually thank @hihopelessromantics for binging my attention to a post about Meliodas and Ludociel having scars from training their brothers, which is what inspired this fic. I saw that post and mind immediately went "oh I can make angst out of this".

So, as for the fic, it focuses on this idea of Meliodas having these scars that Zeldris gave him. Scars that he treasure a lot. They remind him of moments he got to have with Zel as kids, of training together or sneaking off from the castle together or even just finding a chance to goof of together. Big or small, they are moments he got to have with his little brother, where he got to be a brother to Zeldris. They mean a lot to him but - uh oh! - the DK and his assholery enters the scene. With the curse, Meliodas body is healed every time he is resurrected, including the scars from Zeldris. Meliodas struggles with losing the scars Zeldris gave him, feeling like he is losing those good memories of them together, and losing Zeldris in a way.

(Unfortunately, no sneak peek available for this one).

Mel with tiny horns and wings

Now onto happier - oh wait, this one is actually angstier than I originally planned... Anyway! This one is inspired by a conversation I had with @zorria about Meliodas with horns and wings. I wanted to write about that, but also make it really tiny and adorable.

Meliodas has an impressive set of wings and horns, but, given the whole hiding he is a demon thing, he needs to hide them. Problem is, he can't actually make them go away. All he can do is shrink them (think the sizes of a baby goat or tiny fairies). Normally, his hair and clothes are enough to hide them, but the Sins discover them anyway. And here the angst comes!

Actually, this was supposed to be a silly little fic about Mel having some adorable demon features with a side of angst in the form of his fear of them rejecting him. But then Meliodas fell in a lake! Okay, the falling in the lake was always going to be a part of the fic because I needed to get him wet, but the amount of angst that came with it was unplanned. As was my mind deciding that what if in this au Meliodas can't swim...

Sneak peek time! I've actually already shared a snippet from this one (here), so here's another one:

Which was the real problem that sunny late afternoon, wasn’t it? Meliodas couldn’t swim. If you have ever been in a situation where you are faced with the possibility that you could die right then and there, you know the feeling. The pure panic that overtakes your body. The way you fight with everything you have; frantically, desperately, without control. Meliodas had been there too many times. He’d also gone one step further, been faced with the inevitable realization that he was going to die. The moment where there was no fight left, the resigned acceptance. Maybe that had gotten worse with the years. If Meliodas died, he wouldn’t really die. Even if he accepted it, even if he actually welcomed it. There was no end to this life.

As the Night Falls

This is another fic inspired by Zorria. It's about Meliodas struggling with his nightmares (because we all know that man's gotta have nightmares after his 3,000+ years of hell), featuring a worried Elizabeth and a sleeping Tristan.

Not sure I have much more to say about this one, so here's a sneak peek:

“Hey, hey, you’re okay, we’re okay. I promise, we’re okay.” Elizabeth’s voice was a light to a dark cave, wrapping around him like a blanket and zapping away all the tension. Meliodas slumped back against the leg of the bed, head thumping lightly against the wall. Gods, it felt like he hadn’t slept all night – but clearly he had. His eyes finally decided to focus, giving him a close-up of Elizabeth’s worried frown as she crouched before him.

Actually I couldn't decide on which sneak peek to share, so here's another:

Meliodas tried to not react to the mild accusation, but she saw right through him anyway. Elizabeth always seemed to know what was going through his head. After all this time, he couldn’t hide. She sighed softly, sitting down on the floor beside him. “I worry about you, you know,” she mumbled, leaning her head against his shoulder. “We all do.” Meliodas grimaced at that; he had thought he’d hidden it better than that. Clearly he’d lost his touch. He supposed sleep deprivation did that to you.

Pirate Melban AU

Now I know you know a bit what this one's about. But I don't think I've actually talked about specific plot, just the general concept of Pirate!Ban and Merman!Meliodas. So, let me tell you a little about the start of our story. We meet Ban, a young pirate with a foul mouth and a bad habit of getting himself into trouble, who is (once again) finding himself without a ship to call home. While running from the consequences of his actions (literally), Ban ends up taking shelter in a cave. He's not the only one though, because further into the cave he comes across a wounded merman. Ban has grown up hearing (horror) stories of the merfolk living deep in the sea, so what if he ends up a little too curious about the stranger - he can't help it, especially after discovering the he has an attitude to match Ban's own.

A new little sneak peek (previous one can be found here):

How the fuck did he keep getting himself into these situations? Not that his one was his fault. Nope. The captain was the one who'd decided to cut his losses - meaning Ban - once they got into port. Ungrateful son of a bitch! Ban had given years to the Raven and now he was going to be left with nothing – just like that? Fuck no! So, Ban had helped himself to a little – okay maybe not so little – of their loot. So what? He'd helped get that, he deserved his cut.

Actually, since it's probably gonna be a long while until this fic is finished (I'm not the best at focusing on long multichapter fics lol), here's another sneak peek too:

With the first roar of thunder sounding, Ban surveyed his safe haven for the night. It really was an ugly cave. Cracks ran over the walls, splitting the brownish-gray color. From the outside, the cave had looked unstable, but inside it seemed sturdy and strong. Well, at least he wouldn't get crushed to death. Ban pushed off from the wall, walking further into the cave. It wasn't that big, narrowing off into a smaller tunnel the further he walked. A section of the ceiling suddenly dipped down, causing Ban to smack his head right into it. "AH fuck! Shit, that hurt."

WIP Tag/Ask Game!

[love-and-monsters]

Demon Summoning

This is the third place prize of my blog giveaway for @moonlightreetops, where a girl summons a demon. Hope you all enjoy!

F reader X M demon, 2,564 words.

The candles flickered around the summoning circle. You knelt in front of it and gave a nervous glance at your friends. Their faces were all partially obscured by shadows, but you could make out that they were anxious, but full of resolve. You flipped through a few pages of the book in front of you and squinted at the lines of text.

“We summon you from beyond the barrier, from beyond our plane. We bind you to us with our gifts-” Here, you paused and pricked your finger with a needle, squeezing out a drop of blood into the circle. Your friends followed suit, one at a time. The candles seemed to glow brighter, flickering more frequently. “Take the offering and emerge into our realm. Serve us and we will serve you.” Your voice grew louder as you concluded the chant. “I summon you to our realm, bind you with my blood, and call upon your service! Come now to our realm!”

A gust of wind whipped your hair back and the candles flickered violently, though none of them went out. You peered into the circle, but it wasn’t glowing or shimmering, and there was nothing in the middle.

“Wow,” you said. “That was anticlimactic.”

“You didn’t say the ending right!” Emma said. She abandoned her part of the circle and snatched the book away from you. “You said ‘I’ instead of ‘we’. That probably ruined it!”

“You try reading this tiny cursive in dim candlelight,” you protested. “I did my best!”

“We shouldn’t have given the nonbeliever the job of reading,” Tom said, disappointment etched over his face. “It needs to be done with intent.”

“It’s my house!” you said. “If you wanted to do the reading, you should have done the ceremony in your dorm.”

“We’re not allowed candles in the dorm,” Lewis said. He lounged back, rubbing his neck. “Speaking of the dorm, I need to get back soon. Got class in the morning. C’mon, Mel.” He took his girlfriend’s hand and stood up. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“We should probably be getting back too,” Emma said. “Can I keep the book, though? I want to look at the summoning stuff. Maybe we can try again later?”

“Sure.” You handed her the book and stood up. “I’ll see you guys later, then.”

Your friends filed out of your house and you started gathering up the candles. You never should have agreed to do the summoning circle thing at your house, you thought. A bunch of wax had dripped onto the floor and it was a pain in the ass to get up. Not to mention that the chalk took a bit of scrubbing to get off the hardwood.

Finally, you finished cleaning away all trace of the circle. You gathered the candles together and went to put them into the cabinet.

As soon as you opened the drawer, the prickling sensation of someone looking at you hit you full force. You whirled around and almost screamed.

Someone was leaning over you. Someone very obviously not human.

He was tall, nearly a foot taller than you were and his skin was a rust red. Horns spiraled from his head, uneven in size and shape. Fangs poked out from under his top lip. His arms were wing-like, with thick, brownish-gray feathers and hooked, claw-like fingers. His legs were even stranger than his arms, with large, taloned feet and feathery legs. His tail was long and scaly, tufted in another clump of feathers. He wore no clothes, giving you a good view of his muscular chest. His hair was shaggy and pitch black, pulled back into a short and scruffy ponytail.

You felt abruptly dizzy and your stomach rolled unsettlingly. “Oh my God,” you whispered.

His upper lip curled, giving you a better look at his enormous fangs. “I have nothing to do with Them,” he said. His voice was deep and rumbling. “Do not speak his name in my presence.”

You sagged against the cabinet, using it to keep you upright. “You’re a demon.”

He tilted his head a little. One of his ears, which was long and tufted with a few feathers, twitched, an unexpectedly cute action. “Yes. Did you not realize what you were summoning?”

“We summoned you?” Holy shit. You hadn’t expected it to work. “But you didn’t appear in the circle!”

“I am to appear only to my master. You spoke the incantation and offered your blood, so you are my master.” He bowed, which put his head on level with yours.

“We all offered you blood,” you said. “Shouldn’t you be bonded to all of us?”

“There can only be one master. You spoke the incantation and offered your blood first, so I was summoned and bound to you.” He looked at you with bright orange eyes. Despite the color, they were surprisingly human.

“How do I release you?” you asked. You did not want a demon hanging around your house. He tilted his head at you again, eyes shimmering with something like curiosity.

“There is no release until the contract has been fulfilled.” His tail twitched, scraping against the ground. “Until I have completed the terms set for me, I am bound to you, as you are bound to me.”

“Okay,” you said, feeling a little frustrated. “What are the terms?”

There was a very long pause. The demon blinked at you, seeming confused. “The terms are set by the summoner when calling upon the demon,” he said. “You should have set the terms when you spoke the incantation and offered your blood.”

“I didn’t,” you said, trying not to let panic sound in your voice. “Should I set the terms now?”

The demon’s tail twitched again, coiling behind him. “The terms have already been set. If there were no terms, you would not have been able to summon me. The terms need not be spoken out loud, or even be consciously understood. You used a desire from your subconscious in order to summon me.”

You dropped your face into your hands. “Great,” you mumbled. “So we have no idea what it is that will release you.”

“I am not pleased about this turn of events either,” the demon said. “I cannot release myself from the binding until you have fulfilled the terms of your contract.”

“Does that mean we’re bound together? Do you have to constantly be around me?” you asked, eyeing him nervously.

“Physical proximity is not necessary, but I will need to remain on this plane until the contract has been fulfilled. Additionally, as part of the contract, you are required to maintain my well-being while I am on this plane.”

“Which means?”

“You are required to give me a place to stay while I remain in this plane or you will be in breach of contract,” he said.

“If I’m in breach of contract, does the contract end?” you asked.

“In a manner of speaking,” he said. “Breach of contract declares the contract null and void, but it also requires a certain level of payment.” You gestured for him to continue. “If you break the contract, you’ll go to Hell. Immediately.”

“Okay. Not breaking the contract, then,” you said. “I- am I already going to Hell?”

“No. Upon death, I gain temporary ownership of your soul, typically for the same time you held ownership over me. Unless, of course, you break the contract, in which Hell gains ownership of your soul.”

You let out a breath. “That’s good, at least.” You walked over to your couch and sat down. The demon followed you, standing awkwardly off to one side. “Do you have any idea what I wanted when I formed the contract.”

“I will know when it is accomplished,” the demon said. “But I cannot tell what it is before then.” You sighed, dropping your head into your hands.

“I didn’t expect this to work,” you said. The demon sighed.

“To be honest, I am not sure how you managed to get it to work either,” he said. “Most summoning ceremonies are finicky. You’re fortunate it went as well as it did. There are many demons who would take advantage of your naivete to wander the Earth and do as they please.”

You looked at him. “But you won’t?”

“I have no desire to do much on this plane. I have no grudge against humans.” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “That may be a clue. Demons are often summoned for a purpose. There must be something to this task that I would be particularly good at.”

“What are you good at?”

“I am often summoned for mediations and other forms of conflict resolution.” You frowned at him. “I am skilled at fostering relationships between people, from platonic to romantic. My particular specialty is as a lust demon, but I can-”

“Nope! It’s not that one!” you said. He looked at you steadily, apparently unimpressed by your protestations. “It’s not- I don’t need your help with that.”

“Are you sure? It would have been subconscious, so there is a possibility you summoned me for it without realizing.”

“No, I think I would know. Trust me, it’s not that. I wasn’t thinking about that at all,” you said. “I was think about…” You trailed off. “Uh.”

“Maybe you’ll remember in time,” the demon said. “Or we will find out eventually, when the contract breaks. Or eventually you will die and the contract will break naturally.”

He sounded remarkably unconcerned about that. You frowned. “So we’re stuck with each other for a little while.”

“So it would seem.” Silence fell over the room.

“What’s your name?” you asked.

“Larest,” he said. “Yours?”

You told him your name. He held out a hand toward you and you shook it. “I look forward to staying with you,” he said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I am going to rest. Being summoned is exhausting.”

He lay back on the couch and closed his eyes. You left him and headed up to your room.

You woke to the sound of someone clattering around in the kitchen. Upon heading downstairs, you were surprised to find Larest standing over the stove, fussing with what appeared to be a large platter of French toast.

“Are you cooking?” you asked.

“Being unable to fulfill the contract means that I have a lot of time on my hands. I may as well fill it with something useful,” he said. “Demons don’t need to eat, but cooking is relaxing.” He offered you the plate. It smelled good and an experimental bite told you that it tasted good as well.

“Did you have any revelations about what your end of the contract might be?” he asked as you sat at the counter.

“No. I was thinking about how stupid the demon summoning was,” you admitted. “Maybe I wanted my friends to be proven wrong?”

He considered that. “No. That would be an unfulfillable contract. This has to be something I could reasonably do.”

“Oh.” You took another mouthful of French toast. “Then I don’t know.”

Larest sighed. “Then the search continues, I suppose.”

Despite the pressing concern of a demon in your house, work and school were still vital. After assuring that he would be okay in the house on his own, you left.

When you returned, the sight of your place stunned you. He had cleaned it. Top to bottom, everything had been dusted and reorganized. “As I said,” Larest spoke when he saw you, “I get bored when I’m not fulfilling contracts. I needed something to do.”

You could have hugged him. You almost did, except that he still looked rather fearsome. “Thank you. I’ve been trying to get up the energy to clean this place for ages, but I’ve never had the time.”

He seemed to swell with pride at the compliment. “I’m glad you appreciate it. Not many people bother to thank the demon they’ve formed a contract with.”

“That’s rude,” you said. “And you didn’t have to clean the house or make me breakfast. I appreciate it.”

Larest dipped his head to you. “And I appreciate your appreciation.”

Days passed. You settled into a routine with Larest- you would leave for work, after he made you breakfast, and you would come home to a neat house and, if he was feeling up to it, dinner. On weekends, Larest seemed content to hang around the house, but he would often disguise himself and run errands with you.

Days turned into weeks and the weeks started to spread into months, but no progress was made on breaking the contract. If you were being entirely honest, you had to admit that you weren’t putting a lot of effort into attempting to break it. It was nice having someone else around, and Larest was good company.

You sat together one night, casually draped over the couch. There was movie playing on the TV, but you were having a hard time focusing on it. One of his hands was resting on the couch next to yours and that was taking up most of your mind.

Slowly, you moved your hand over toward his. Your pinky fingers were less than an inch apart. Less than a centimeter. Barely a hair’s breadth from touching.

Your fingers touched. It felt like a sharp tingling sensation jumped through your arm and into your chest, making your heart race. Larest shifted, turning his head to look at you. Your eyes met.

His face broke into a small, but startlingly bright smile. His hand gently wrapped around your own.

And then he sat bolt upright and gasped. His hand slipped away from yours.

“What is it?” you asked. He turned to you, eyes wide.

“The contract,” he said slowly. “It broke.”

“It was fulfilled?” You stared at him, but he didn’t seem to be joking. “How? What did you do?”

There was a long pause. “I believe,” he said after a moment, “I may have just… thought about the fact that I love you.”

You felt your mouth open, but you couldn’t speak. “It would not be the first time a demon has been summoned by someone who wanted love,” he said. “I assume you feel similarly?”

“Yes,” you said, finally finding your tongue. “I love you too.” You glanced him over, half-expecting him to vanish. “But now that the contract’s been fulfilled, can you stay here?”

“I’ll be recalled to Hell within a few moments,” Larest said. “But there is another thing you can do.” He leaned forward and spoke hurriedly into your ear.

A few days later, you gathered your candles and the summoning book and set up the circle again. You knelt and spoke the incantation. Blood dripped from your finger onto the circle and you focused your thoughts.

There was a rush of wind and you closed your eyes. When you opened them again, Larest was standing there, wings spread.

“Mortal,” he said, “have you determined your terms of the contract?”

“Yes.” You stood. “In order to fulfill the contract, you must stay with me for the remainder of my life, living as my partner and lover. Upon my death, I pledge myself to you in the afterlife.”

Larest beamed and stepped out of the circle, enfolding you in his wings. “I should think this will be quite an easy contract to fulfil. I look forward to it.”

[valewright67]

Because both Elizabeth and Meliodas are Gods on the opposite side of the spectrum, the balance is still relatively intact. When it was just Meliodas with the God like power, before Elizabeth beat the shit out of her mom (because that's what SHOULD have happened) Brittania was thrown all put of wack because of it. But if both gods inhabitate Brittania, even with the massive power addition, it's ok, because the scales don't really tip one way or the other.

They go by different names over the decades.. Mel and Ellie, Liz and Lio... One time it was Beth and- and ODIS. Poor Mel, he was so horrified when that option was given, but they had to take it.

There's one being outside of their clans who can tolerate their true forms, and that's Arthur. As the King of Chaos, he himself is, in a way, a God. His godly form is a giant, tentacled, THING. He doesn't really have a definable shape, at least, not one that can be easily seen. To look at him like this for more than a minute without a blessing he places upon them will cause them immense pain and break their mind, sometimes even unraveling their very being. The mortal mind will ALWAYS try to comprehend, and in the case of things uncomprehendable, it begins to malfunction and tear apart.

Sometimes the three will occupy their godly forms in each other's presence, in a pocket dimension that Arthur creates for them. They can maintain mortal forms just fine, but after awhile, it's like... well, when you finally get to take off your clothes after work. You could keep them on, and you can change a little to make it more comfortable, but still, it's FANTASTIC getting to discard your pants after a long day. Usually, they'll end up playing with each other. Arthur finds he quite likes these friends of his. They can keep up with him, something very rare indeed.

When Tristan is born, he's a bit of a chimera. He's Lion shaped like his mother, with a mane of hellblaze and a scaled, draconic tail. His wings are feathered and black, with barbs ever so slightly hooked on the end, sort of like a bat. Oh, and he's got big old horns like his dad. Of course, that all comes when he's older. As a baby, his got little tiny bumps on his head, and his wings are more poof than anything, the hooks only little nubs right now. His oh so glorious mane of hellblaze is practically nonexistent, save for trace wisps on the back of his neck and head.

Arthur gives them regular access to a pocket dimension, because well... the child of two gods is also a God, and quite powerful. When the infant sneezed and damn near took out a mountainside, they realized "ok...we need a solution." So Arthur attached an interdimensioal door in the babies nursery for them, straight to their own personal microreality. Arthur was quite fond of Tristan actually, and regularly babysat him. Tristan loved Uncle Arthur.

Meliodas and Elizabeth fucking ADORE their little cub, more than anything else in the world. One time, Meliodas heard Tristan roaring (squeaking) in displeasure and went to the nursery to see what was wrong. He slipped into the pocket dimension, automatically taking his godly form (that was just the norm while in this place) and found Elizabeth -in her own godly form- laying down, curled around the cranky cub, and licking the fur on his head. Tristan was VERY vocal about his displeasure at being cleaned, and Meliodas thought it was the cutest, funniest shit in the world.

NnT crack au where, after killing the DK, Mel now becomes the new god of the demons, and all the DKs power flows into Mel.

So after breaking the curse on Elizabeth, he starts thinking and suggests “Hey, what if I curse you with eternal life, too? We’d never loose each other forever” and Elizabeth, goes “okay”.

Any assassins coming after them are gonne be so confused. And they don’t rule forever. After 10-20 years or so, Gil and Margaret take over, leaving Mel and Eli to enjoy their immortal lives together. They reopen the Boar Hat and travel the lands, frequently coming to visit the capital but becoming myths and legends in the rest of the land.

[melaenis-ficente-blog]

Counting Treasure || One-shot

Summary: Mel readies Maggie Rose for bedtime. 

tw: some gore/blood its fine 

It’s a strange mystery, the things that your children take from you—what they take, why they take, and how. When Magdelena was still in the egg, Mel did not think questions such as this. She thought in different questions. She theorized about the temperature of the egg, how large it would grow, its peculiar weight, and the rhythm of its heartbeat, which she could feel by placing her hand upon its shell. The egg was just an egg to Melaenis then. She was the most spectacular magical experiment that Mel had ever achieved.

But then she’d hatched, and Magdelena had blinked open her beautiful eyes, blue, not like her mother, but like her father. She wore the dragon’s scale, breathed with a dragon’s breath. She had a sharp nose like her mother too, and a natural inclination for anything and everything magic. Even her curiosity Mel liked to think was a gift that she gave her daughter.

But while Mel and her dragon had always lived by the moon, Magdelena lived by the sun. When the moon came around, and Mel felt her body filled with magic, power, and lust—lust for the sky, for the hunt—her daughter grew sleepy, those big, beautiful blue eyes, eyes from her father, drooping, as she yawned and showed off the rows of her pearl-white teeth.

When she was younger, Mel curled Magelena up In her arms and gently rocked her as she sat outside in her garden. Her daughter’s throat rumbled with snoring soon after she started. Mel believed it was the scents from the garden that lulled her more than any story, though that’s what Howl liked to do—tell their daughter stories, like she was a common Mundus child. Mel knew better. Or so she thought she did. Really, though, Maggie was a mystery. Children often are.

Now Maggie was too big to curl up in the arms of her mother. She had fashioned her own bed out of stone and coal she’d collected from the forest. She’d started a little hoard too, adorning the sides with earrings she nabbed from Mel’s jewelry box, vials from the kitchen, old tea bags she dug out of the rubbish bin (Peculiar! said Howl.) Then her nighttime routine became one of counting. Some children counted sleep, but Mel and her daughter counted treasure. One cork stopper, two feathers from Diaval, three beads from a broken necklace, four earrings, five tea bags… and so on and so forth until Maggie curled up and let out another rumbling snore.

And bigger still, Maggie grew and so her hoard grew too. And the hours of her bedtime began to expand and she stayed up later as she counted and counted and then whizzed up the stairs in search for something new—

And Mel realized, then, one night, that it was not the hoard, but the hunger that kept her daughter awake and restless--

She was old enough to hunt.

And so at the tender age of just three moons, Melaenis took her daughter into a clearing deep within the forest. She was the size of a large dog now (though it pained Mel to compare her miraculous accomplishment to something as boring and ordinary as a dog) and romped ahead of Mel, stretching out her beautiful, feathery wings. She let out a soft cry into the night, a sound almost like that of a bird. (Would she not roar, then, Mel wondered. Would she inherit her father’s voice and her mother’s hunger?)

“Yes,” Mel chuckles now though. “Almost, Maggie.” And she stops in the clearing and then sheds her satin robe, so she stands stark naked underneath the moonlight. Mel takes a deep breath in, drawing the night into her lungs.

The dragon opens her eyes.

The fire catches on Mel’s hot skin, consuming her in seconds. She hears Magdelena cry out again, but it’s not a sound of fear, but one of jubilation. Mel spreads her wings and they brush at the sides of the trees, making them bend back and give an awful groan. Her neck stretches, her jaw opens and she breathes out a short jet of fire into the purple night. Its there and then gone, like a torch struck. Her back claws dig trenches into the grass and then she folds her wings back in.

Her daughter zips in front of her, flying in beautiful, graceful circles, chattering happily. Then she flaps toward Mel and lands clumsily on her snout. Her hands grip the tough leather of Mel’s nostrils, though Mel doesn’t feel a thing. She snorts out hot, black smoke, ruffling her daughter’s feathers. The ends catch with ember but Maggie coos soft and then blows a puff of smoke over Mel’s snout. The rings dance up into the air.

Now we hunt, she says to her daughter. Come. Follow.

And with a mighty flap of her wings, they rocket into the air, climbing acre after acre, higher than Maggie has ever gone—unless when flown curled up in her father’s talons. But Maggie lets out another loud, high-pitched cry of joy. Her daughter is not one that has ever tasted fear. Not yet. She does not know the meaning, nor the colour, nor the sound. She lets go of her mother’s nostrils and lets herself free fall through the air, only to unfurl her wings and catch herself right above the tops of the trees. She lets out another soft twitter as she flaps once, then twice, grabbing at leaves as she goes. Her mother flies above her, her shadow over her daughter—blocking out the stars and the moon.

Magdelena does not need the moon. It’s not the moon that she hungers for at all.

Mel knows what her daughter needs. She sucks in the air and can smell every living creature down below in the forest and every slumbering Mundus in town. Their blood is a bouquet of tastes for the dragon. It would be easy to circle back and take the town in a beautiful ring of fire. Every time Mel turns into a dragon, she considers this. It’s the dragon’s most fundamental instinct: to claim territory. To level kingdoms, then build their own kingdom from ash.

But she resists, like always. Tonight, they fly over Swynlake, over Enchantra, over the peaceful farmland. Mel guides her daughter far away until the land rolls into the green hills of the wastelands. Here the magic triples in the air. It’s full of wild monsters, such as themselves, though none quite as great.

The dragon is the king and the queen of all beasts. When Mel’s shadow rakes over head, she can feel all those creatures below shiver and hold their breath.

She smells a herd of deer, grazing kilometers away. Magdelena, she calls in her head to her daughter, and her daughter looks up, then rapidly flaps her wings to climb the air.

Ride my back, she instructs her. Watch.

Maggie does as she’s told, catching onto Mel’s dragon’s spikes. She curls her long tail around one and folds her wings in. Then Mel swoops.

She slices through the air like a sword. One clean cut, that’s all it takes. Mel has now done this for years and knows how much power is in one single swoop of her great wings. As she descends down onto the nerd, she is silent. They only have half-a-heartbeat to panic. Half-a-heartbeat is not enough time.

By that time, Mel closes her claws over the deer—one in one foot and one in the other. Her neck strains and catches another between her teeth, crunching it into bone and muscle at once. Her wings knock several other deer onto their clumsy backsides, the horn on one of her wings slicing one’s stomach open.

It is over in less than a second. The air is full of blood, the peace on the moors broken. Mel’s tongue curls the dead, half-eaten deer back into her throat and then releases the two in her claws, both punctured, dead, and now bleeding.

Maggie cooes on her back. She imagines if her daughter were a human girl, it would sound like a delighted little laugh. The shape of it would be a bell. And oh, Mel would ring such a bell all day long and never grow tired of its singing.

For now, she simply rests over the dead bodies of the deer and lowers her neck so Maggie can more easily slip down. She does so, giving a tiny flutter of her wings so she floats as gently as a feather onto the grass. Then she scampers toward the dead deer and plunges her feathered head into the body cavity. Mel lets out a satisfied growl. In the skin of the dragon, it is so easy to be proud of her daughter—to see her clean the insides of the deer and think only that she was just like her mother before her.

Mel does not need to feed the dragon more than it has had tonight. Besides, her dragon wants for other things. Its hunger can be quenched for a while with the taste o f blood and meat from deer, sheep, and cow, but it does not fill the hollow place inside her. Only magic can do that. Only the taste of sorcery—the smell of enchanted gold—

And, sometimes, if she looked at her daughter long enough, the dragon felt satisfied too.

Tonight was a night such as this. Maggie cleaned out the first deer then moved onto the second, eating all of the entrails and all that tender muscle and meat. She snapped at the bone, crunching it down with her impervious teeth so it was like fine power to her—as white and pure as salt or sugar, and Mel knew from experience, just as satiating. Soon there was nothing but a carcass left, to be picked off by flies. Maggie turned back to her mother and flocked toward her. She licked at her bloodied muzzle and then gave a big, wide yawn.

Ah, there was her little, tired darling. Ready, finally it seemed, to go to bed.

Mel leaned forward and nuzzled Maggie gently, then helped her once again onto the top of Mel’s head, where she curled around one of Mel’s horns. They once again took off into the air, leaving the dead behind, leaving the magic wastelands too. Mel did not go here enough, she thought in passing. Perhaps tomorrow night Mel would come alone and seek for something more to quench her thirst. But tonight, she needed to put Maggie to bed.

So through the stars, back into the clearing. Mel landed much softer this time. Her robe was still there in the grass. It was as though no time had passed at all. And for creatures such as she and her daughter—dragons, which were ancient monsters, who could not feel time tick, turn, or age them—perhaps none had.

In another flare of fire and smoke, Mel returned into her human skin, now covered in a layer of soot. She draped her robe around her anyway, tying it loose around her waist, before she headed back into town. Beside her, Maggie yawned again, her trot much slower. Mel smiled down at her. “Just a little ways, my love. And then we’ll count your hoard.”

Maggie trilled soft in the back of her throat and scampered a little quicker. They slipped like shadows into the alleyways of Swynlake, not noticed by a single living soul.

The door to Howl’s home opened and Maggie scampered right in and up to her hoard of stone, coal, and treasure. She climbed into it and looked at her mother with her father’s blue eyes. Waiting.

“Oh, you want me to start?” Mel teased her daughter, but she lowered herself onto the carpet, folding her legs underneath her. She reached forward and gently touched the first treasure with the tip of her finger. “One cork stopper from your father’s potion bottles. Two feathers from nasty little Diaval. Three beads from my necklace. Four earrings, five tea bags…”

And on and on, until she was sleeping, a mystery to her mother again.

[fenharel-archived]

i was just stalking your pinterest (as i do lmao) and i would personally like to know everything about all of your dnd ocs?? i love all their aesthetics 💖😍👌

sdkfkjsdf aw thank you!!!!!! let it be known that i stalk your pinterest all the time as well :P ♥

oh boy i have seven (7) ocs but… i can give u a super quick overview if u want!!!!! some of them are more developed than others, probably due to the fact that i’ve never played any of them & yet making them is fun, lol

under the read more only because i dont want my sister to accidentally read this!! :D

aarón dé santos, my fallen aasimar rogue/wizard: probably my most thought out one, because he used to be a dragon age oc before i transformed him into a d&d one. he comes from a noble family and has a sister & a love interest. since he was a little kid he was always perceived as rather aloof and a bit strange & used to have a fascination with death and magic, practising in secret in his fathers study. his parents were afraid of him & very religious and at some point he got disowned & selled off to an organisation of assassins. as an assassin, working against his purpose as an aasimar, he fell rather quickly. as a very religious man himself he lives in constant struggle praying and asking for forgiveness everytime he takes a life. he also learned the art of necromancy and he thinks in his own twisted way that he’s giving death new purpose, and for example, he can also apologize to the dead directly for killing them. other than that he’s tall, has shoulder length dark hair, piercing eyes, a deep voice and a spanish accent. he’s also rather charming……:’)

ysmael, my drow warlock: ysmael lives in the underdark, has very long, straight white hair, dark grey skin, his left eye is red, his right eye is milky white because he’s blind on that one, also that part of his face is full of scars who mainly looked like claw marks, from a time he almost died. he wears black and dark red, his signiture outfit consists of a suit/jackett with no shirt under it, lots of jewelry, leathers & a cape he’s a slut like that    probably only wears gucci also he always smells goodhe’s a male in a typical drow sociaty, who is not particulary strong, and was very bad when he tried to study magic, and yet he earned respect. he’s rather smart and very, very good with words and became a business man (smuggler!!!!) mainly dealing with magical artifacts. almost dying during one of those transactions, he made a deal with an archfey who was trapped in an artifact he was about to sell. whenever he’s dealing in the outside world he uses mask of many faces to disguise himself into a woof elf, with olive skin, dark hair and a gentle smile

astoria de mocini, my half elf blood hunter: not sure if my pinterest board made it clear, but she is a vampire!!!!!!!!! :D :D she has red hair that end into a yellow/orange, and she always wears tiny round goth glasses (because of the sun) but also because she’s goth like thatanyways she’s a noble and became a vampire rather unwillingly because her mum had an obsession with staying young & beautiful. astoria joined an order of blood hunters after that, learning how to use her powers and how to live with them. she’s proud of who she is, yet misses to be alive sometimes & loves hunting down vampires the most. especially the ones that transformed her and her fam. also she’s super outgoing, proud, sexual, has an italian accent and has super long pointy nails… :^) also i ship her with my sisters paladin but she has not agreed to that romance yet so its a bit onesided skjdfjsdf

elias, my protector aasimarmonk: he’s my new sweetest of boys!!!!!!

melody, my tiefling bard: her nickname is mel, and most people call her that way, she also has a little white pet rat she carries around everywhere! she has magenta skin and pastel unicorn hair sdjfkjdsf yep she generally has a bubbly personality and i imagine she talks a bit like sera from dai :)she was an orphan tho, survining by playing music on the street, before she officaly became a bard in a college. the kids didnt like her very much and they fought a lot with her out of jealousy because she already had so much practise before she entered the college. also her outfits are nice but always patched up at places because she cant afford new ones and because of all that one of her horns broke off, but she doesnt really mind. she’s generally very nice and always tries to be brave and make everyone around her smile, sometimes she feels very lonely though, i think.

shidara, my yuan-ti pureblood cleric: she probably has snake eyes and patches of scales on places she can hide rather well, beside of her neck. she’s rather introverted and also doesnt enjoy other people very much. she has a charm to her but she wont show that unless she has to. besides of that she’s a death cleric and therefore welcomes death & views it in a positive light as a natural thing. she also has a twin sister called saheera, who belogns to my sister & we still have to flesh them out a bit more :) all i can say atm is that she would probably not help anybody else than her twin.. lol

gaia longclaw, my shifter barbarian: aw man, tbh she’s the least thought out of them all, but i fucking love barbarians so i had to make one!!!!! she’s a longtoothshifter, and basically has panther features whenever she shifts! probably lived in the jungle with her clan who worship panthers. smarter than she seems. quickly angry. also wears a big feather headpiece and likes to kill people with her gigantic axe

[librathefangirl]

Libra's WIPs - Breath(e)

For @ficwip's Word Game Wednesday. This week's word was "breathe" but I only had one wip with that, so I'm gonna share a few with "breath" as well c:

Mel with tiny horns and wings (an AU that makes more sense with context?):

The water was relentless. It pushed and it pulled, and it made his wings feel like useless sacks of potatoes. They sprang to their full size, but it did little to help. They only felt heavier like that. Panic seized him, crawling up like bubbling acid from his gut, seizing his throat until he couldn’t have drawn a breath even if there had been air to breathe. The water kept pressing in on him. It pushed on every inch of his body and invaded his senses with the threat of death.

The Boy and the Rain:

Meliodas closed his eyes briefly, taking a slow careful breath. When he met Ban’s gaze it was with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I never thought I’d get to experience this again.”

The Dusk Before a New Dawn (aka the dark Melizabeth AU):

“Re-ally?” Despite the blood pooling under his body, despite his burst hearts, despite that he couldn’t take a normal breath, the Demon King sneered up at his son. “What a… failure. I never meant… to raise a naïve-”

Meliodas & King (aka the double beginnings fic):

He glanced at Meliodas again, feeling his unease growing. Meliodas had closed his eyes, seemingly without a care in the world – and here King was, crawling out of his skin. Taking a deep breath, King finally voiced what had been nagging on his mind for hours, “Why did you do it?”

Your Presence (A Comfort) (aka the Mel whump fic I add a little something to every time I get sick and need Mel to suffer with me):

Meliodas trembled where he lied. His eyelids were too heavy to open. His whole body felt numb. Like an unmoving mass of rocks. His lungs burned with every hitching breath. He curled in on himself, but it did nothing to ease the pain consuming his body.

[librathefangirl]

WIP Tag Game

Got tagged by @overlyimmersed - thank you 💜 This is fun!! (and I'd never say no to a chance to share my wips, especially since it's been a while since I managed to post something :(... hopefully that'll change soon!)

RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Since I've got more wips than I know what to do with, I'm gonna limit myself to nnt and only wips on my computer (also not counting my ongoing fics with at least 1 chapter already posted)

Febuwhump and Whumptober Fics (in no particular order)

23. Wrath of Light (You'll have to go through me)

27. A Clan of One (Survivor's Guilt)

31. The Loss in Victory (Emptiness)

First Holy War Whumptober AU

Whumptober - Meliodas & The Boar Hat Regulars

(+ at least 9 fics titled in the style of "UNTITLED (Prompt))

Other (Mostly Whump) Fics (in alphabetic order)

A Moment of Rest (a Decade Too Late)

As the Night Falls

Behind the Darkness (Where Your Hearts Lie)

Demon Bros Comfort Nuzzles

Galand exposes Meliodas' demon secret

Hitmen!Demon bros AU

How to Demon (Yes, Captain, This is Really Necessary)

"King & Meliodas" + "Whumptober 2022 - Meliodas & King - Protective + Stabbed" (2 documents, 1 fic)

Losing a Part of Me (Is Like Losing a Part of You)

Mel with tiny horns and wings

Meliodas and the Kids AU #1

Meliodas Broken Knee

Melizabeth soft moment

Monster Sins AU - Story 2

My Trust in You

Pirate Melban AU

The Blood in My Hearts (It's You) - Polysins AU

The Dusk Before a New Dawn

The Past On My Skin

When the Spell Breaks

Wrath of a Captain

Your Presence (A Comfort)

Zel gets distracted by Mel's heartbeat and everything changes

Don't think I can tag as many people as I've got wips, so Imma just... @hihopelessromantics, @gh0stofyesterday, and leave this open for anyone to join - you wanna do this, then consider yourself tagged! :)