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dancingbirdie · 1 year ago

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Okay so on Astarion, I was reading this fic about him not knowing Tavs true intentions with him and it bothering Astarion a lot, so what if he goes to some mage or magic user and asks them to show Tavs true intentions to him, when he does the vision he sees is just... being snuggled. It's Tav on top of him and the both of you are falling asleep, his hands are under your shirt softly petting your skin as your sleepy self is contently snuggled up to him. I just start crying about him finding out that Tavs DASTARDLY and EVIL plan with him, their greatest desire from him... is to simply be held. 🥺

Hi @goblin-creatcher! Thank you so much for this BEAUTIFUL prompt. I, uhh, kind of took it and went a million miles an hour with it. This is honestly one of my favorite things I've ever written. I hope you enjoy it as well! xoxoxo

Something Imagined / Something Real

Word Count: 3.9K

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav

Warnings/Tags: Brief but detailed description of rough consensual sex, descriptions and references to Astarion's trauma/trauma responses, minor Act 1 and Act 2 spoilers, FLUFF, angst

Suggested Song Pairing: Slow Dancing in A Burning Room (Stripped) - cover by ST LUNA

Summary: Astarion has been suspicious of Tav’s true intentions toward him. He persuades Gale to cast a spell and reveal her motivations. ANGST and FLUFF ensue. A rewriting of Astarion’s confession scene from Act 2.

The sun had just begun to set on the campsite when Astarion decided to put his plan into action. He had waited until Tav departed with some of the other party members before making his way over to the wizard. Gale was too busy reassembling the bookshelf inside his tent to notice Astarion’s approach. It wasn’t until he gave a polite cough that Gale jumped and whirled to face him.

“No, no, no,” he began all at once, hands raised in a sort of shooing motion. Astarion stared at him in confusion. “I can respect Tav’s indulging in your need for blood, but as I’ve said before: I taste terrible.”

Astarion scoffed. “Charming. Actually, wizard, I was coming to request your aid in a different, though somewhat related, matter.”

“Really? Care to elaborate?” Gale responded, still somewhat wary. It wasn’t often he found himself alone with the vampire.

“Testy, I see,” Astarion crooned teasingly. His knee-jerk response to people treating him like a monster, to behave in the most false saccharine sort of way.

But he drew up short, censoring himself before saying anything else he might regret. He knew he needed to get on the wizard’s good side if he had any chance of getting the answers he sought.

“I was hoping you knew a spell to reveal someone’s true intentions. Their… motivations for behaving in a certain way, so to speak,” he finished more seriously.

Gale pondered the question for a moment before answering.

“Hmm… yes, there is magic to determine that sort of thing… Although it’s been some time since I practiced it…” He trailed off, rubbing his chin in thought.

“Why are you asking for such a thing?” he asked suddenly.

Astarion had been prepared for this question, of course. No one did anything for free, no questions asked. He delivered his explanation perfectly, as he’d been rehearsing in his mind.

“One might say our dear sweet Tav and I have been growing a bit… closer these days, but I can sense a master manipulator when I see one. I just simply want to ensure their intentions toward me - toward the party - are true,” he replied with mock innocence.

“Ah, yes,” Gale nodded. “I gathered as much when the two of you slipped away from the tiefling’s party a few nights ago.”

“But,” he continued on,”I needn’t think you should worry when it comes to Tav. She seems about as transparent as they come. I’m sure any intentions she has toward you are true.”

Yes, but the best actors always mask their motivations behind innocence and transparency, Astarion thought to himself. I should know. I’ve been doing it for centuries.

After the party’s unfortunate meeting with that Gur in the Sunlit Wetlands, Astarion realized he would have to take potential threats from Cazador even more seriously. He wasn’t about to lose his freedom, not now that he finally had some small taste of it.

It didn’t hurt to be more suspicious of everyone he encountered, even the sweetling Tav. Anyone could be an operative sent by Cazador, and the best ones would be as skilled as he was in the art of manipulation. It was well-known at this point that the person he’d grown the closest to on their journey was their brave party leader, Tav. Unlikely as it may be that she was scheming for his master, Astarion’s paranoia wouldn’t let him indulge in interactions with her a second longer unless he knew how she truly felt.

Given Gale’s hesitation, Astarion knew he would have to kick his acting up a notch. Press on that wizard’s heartstrings. Touch the one nerve he knew he was sensitive to.

“Gale, darling, from one literally damaged soul to another, indulge me just this once,” Astarion beseeched him.

The wizard glared at him a moment, before finally relenting with a heavy sigh. “Fine. Fine. But I want it known that I don’t agree with this so-called solution one whit,” he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yes, yes, noted and formally documented, on my word as a former Baldurian magistrate,” Astarion replied cheerily. “So, let’s hop to it then, shall we?”

“What, right now?” Gale asked, shocked. “Shouldn’t we be, I don’t know, a little less conspicuous?”

“What better time than now?” Astarion responded. “Tav’s out gathering firewood with Wyll and Karlach. They won’t be back for some time. As for Lae’zel and Shadowheart, well…” he paused, gesturing over his shoulder.

Said two were engaged in a heated sparring session on the outskirts of the camp. Snarls and curses could be heard emanating from both warriors as they tried, and failed, to gain the upper hand against their opponent.

“That lovers’ dance could go on until morning,” Astarion finished.

“Fair point,” Gale admitted begrudgingly, grimacing at the sound of swords clashing violently. “Very well. Let’s get started.”

Clearing his throat, Gale began to utter a series of phrases completely foreign to Astarion. He watched as the wizard began moving his hands in a wavelike pattern, forming a circle before them. Suddenly, a mist began to form from seemingly thin air, taking shape according to the boundaries Gale’s hands were creating. The mist grew more and more opaque until it appeared before them like a clouded mirror.

As the fogginess of the ethereal magic began to clear, the “mirror” became a confusing blur of scenes whipping by, too fast for Astarion or Gale to really comprehend. There were flashes of Tav and Astarion, together and separate, but they disappeared too quickly to ascertain their context. It was as though the spell was shuffling through the entirety of Tav’s thoughts, assessing each one at breakneck speed.

Finally, the spell slowed to a halt, stopping on one scene in particular. Astarion was struck speechless by what began playing out in the foggy portal before them. So distracted, he didn’t even notice Gale’s tight cough, or how the wizard suddenly became intensely interested in a copse of trees nearby, rather than the revelation the spell was revealing.

Not that the scene was especially profound, objectively speaking. In fact, to anyone else, it might be viewed as the least revelatory thing possible that the spell could have shown. Boring. Inconsequential, even. But to Astarion, it was almost earth shattering.

He saw himself - he could see his face! - with Tav, lying tangled together in some immaculate four-poster bed.

That was the first shock that coursed through him, nearly causing his knees to buckle. He was seeing himself for the first time in over 200 years. Or at least, he was seeing himself as Tav saw him. And… the person he saw… Well, he was gorgeous. White blonde locks, curled and tousled in a devil-may-care sort of way. A strong, patrician nose that suggested good breeding. High, sharp cheekbones. Full lips, upturned in a thoughtless grin. Red eyes bordered by long, sweeping lashes. Delicately pointed elven ears. Smooth alabaster skin, without blemish or spot.

Astarion could scarcely believe his own eyes.

The second shock to his system was the nature of their activities. He would have been less surprised had the vision shown them fucking. Him taking her roughly from behind perhaps. His name a cry of ecstasy from her lips as he pistoned in and out of her with a feral sort of determination.

Fantasies of lust, of total domination, now those were things he was familiar with inspiring in the minds of the victims he had taken as lovers. It was what he strove for, in all honesty. Desire like that all but ensured he would capture his prey and live to serve another day for his master.

But nothing of the sort was occurring between vision-Tav and himself. Instead, they were just… embracing? What in sweet hells was this?

She lay halfway on top of him. Her hair was mussed, perhaps from sleep or perhaps from previous lovemaking. One hand was drawing absentminded shapes across his chest, her lips trailing behind, leaving kisses in their wake. He watched as vision-Astarion chuckled softly, as his hands slipped beneath her sleepshirt to caress her waist, as he placed an innocent kiss on the top of Tav’s head. Eventually, she reached for his hand. They both watched their fingers intertwine, blissfully content.

It was the purest, unadulterated expression of affection that Astarion had ever seen. Something in his heart quaked at the sight of it. He wanted that moment. He envied, he hated, vision-Astarion for enjoying such apparent happiness.

So absorbed in the vision and its implications, Astarion failed to notice the soft padding of feet that indicated someone’s re-entry into the camp.

“If the two of you are quite finished poking around in my head,” an angry voice suddenly spat from behind them, “I’d appreciate you preserving what little privacy I have left and shutting that damn spell off.”

Mortified, Astarion and Gale turned to see Tav, arms crossed and visibly seething with rage. Gale quickly dispelled the magic with a flick of his wrist. A blush was slowly but surely rising up Tav’s neck to reach her cheeks. Whether from rage or embarrassment, Astarion couldn’t be certain.

“Tav, let us explain-” Astarion started.

“It was his idea-” Gale blurted at the same time, pointing at Astarion.

Both paused, glaring at one another. But Tav would have none of their feeble attempts at backpedaling.

“The explanation doesn’t matter. Whose idea it was doesn’t matter. The fact is that both of you violated the privacy of my mind, which I’ll remind you, has ALREADY been violated by having a bloody tadpole forced inside of it!” Tav shouted. At their words, the camp became enveloped in a heavy silence. Even the crickets ceased their chirping.

Astarion cringed inwardly, knowing the other party members could plainly hear this altercation and had likely stopped whatever it was that they had been doing to listen in. He noted the sounds of swords clanging together had ceased. He was certain Lae’zel and Shadowheart at least were aware of what was happening. Nosy bastards, all of them.

But what disturbed him even more was the realization that Tav’s eyes were welling with tears. She was too proud to acknowledge them or wipe them away. Such was her nature. But they were there nonetheless, and the knowledge that Astarion had brought her to the point of tears was enough to spur a rush of utter self-loathing inside him.

Without another word, Tav turned on her heel and marched stiffly out of camp, toward the direction of a nearby creek they’d identified as a water source earlier in the day.

“I can’t believe I let you convince me to perform that spell,” Gale said as she disappeared between the trees. He dragged his hands down his face.

“How could we have been so doltish, forgetting that all of our privacies have already been violated with this tadpole business?”

Astarion didn’t have an answer to that. At least, not one the wizard could possibly understand.

The thought hadn’t occurred to Astarion, he realized, because violations of privacy had been something so intrinsic to his being for over 200 years. He didn’t even recognize it as something abnormal. Like a fish unaware that the water surrounding it is, in fact, water.

Violations of privacy were a part of life, at least for him. So much so that his request for Gale to perform that magic hadn’t even occurred to him as an overstepping of boundaries. To Astarion, it had simply been a matter of survival. He had needed to know another potentially manipulative person’s true intentions, and so he had found a means to uncover it and maintain the upper hand.

Belatedly, he also realized that Gale’s hesitation to cast the spell had had nothing to do with being inconvenienced for the evening, but because the wizard had known that it was improper to do to another person. If he had misread that, Astarion wondered, then what other truly benevolent behaviors had he mistaken as pragmatic manipulation?

“I need to go find her,” Astarion murmured, clenching and unclenching his fists in an uncharacteristic fit of uncertainty.

“Yes, you do,” Gale asserted. “We both owe her a sincere apology… if she’ll even accept it.”

“I’ll see if I can convince her to come back to camp,” Astarion replied, making to leave in the direction Tav had stormed off.

“Wait,” Gale said, a hand on his shoulder. Astarion turned to meet his gaze.

“Look, well, I’m obviously not an expert in healthy demonstrations of affection. But I do think it’s obvious from what you saw in that spell that Tav well and truly cares about you. In perhaps the purest way possible. Treat that carefully.”

Part of Astarion wanted to laugh aloud in utter hopelessness at the wizard’s advice. Someone cared for him? Truly and purely? No hidden games, no strings attached? Oh certainly, that wouldn’t be a problem for Astarion at all. Obviously, his 200-year existence as a master-manipulator-fetch-hound for a power-hungry vampire lord had perfectly prepared him to respond to this situation in a healthy manner. Obviously.

But all that was too much to reveal to someone he barely knew and too heavy to say aloud. Rather than giving some smarmy retort, Astarion opted instead to give a stiff nod and continue walking toward the edge of camp. He had no idea how he could make things right with Tav, but at the very least he could try.

***

He found Tav sitting on a fallen tree near the edge of the creek bed. Her legs were drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around them as she rested a cheek to her knees. In the waning twilight, she reminded Astarion of some misbegotten gargoyle perched on the roof of a temple, solitary and so very sad.

Her ears twitched as she noted his arrival. Astarion wasn’t trying to be stealthy. On top of everything else, the last thing he needed to do was scare her.

“Can I join you?” he asked softly, wincing to himself at the awkwardness of the question.

The reality was that there was no way to broach this conversation without some stilted beginning, and he hated it. Navigating tricky conversations was normally something he excelled at. But as he was quickly finding, when it related to Tav, nothing in his past life had prepared him to respond to her well.

“If you’d like,” Tav answered tonelessly.

Knowing it was probably the best response he was going to get, Astarion swallowed thickly and moved to sit down on the log next to her.

“I… wanted to… apologize for what you saw, back at camp,” he began.

“Apologize for doing it, or apologize for getting caught?” Tav asked as she turned her head to look at him, resting her other cheek on her knees.

Astarion balked at the question. Her piercing gaze unnerved him. He hadn’t really thought that far.

“Both, I suppose?” he answered honestly, although it sounded more like a question to Tav. She huffed a laugh.

“You know, part of me really wants to yell at you. Scream in your face. Tell you off proper,” she mused.

“So why don’t you?” Astarion asked, perplexed.

Tav didn’t respond at first, just sat there studying him. As if by staring at him long enough, she could project the answer into his mind.

Astarion didn’t interrupt her, much as he would have liked to. Part of him always bristled when people gazed at him for too long. It was unfair that they could study him, when he hadn’t been able to so much as glance at his reflection in over 200 years.

Finally, Tav released a heavy sigh, her body curling further in on itself. She closed her eyes as she spoke.

“Because then I would be just like every other bastard in your life who’s mistreated you.”

Astarion flinched in surprise. Those had not been the sort of words he’d been expecting. The truth of them cut deeper than had she raged at him like she wanted to. It left him feeling even more vulnerable, and that in turn made him want to retreat into the comfort of viciousness.

“I don’t need you to pull any punches,” he scoffed, glaring at her. “Go ahead and say what you will.”

She straightened up at his tone, opening her eyes and returning his glare.

“No. I don’t want to,” she said testily.

“I don’t need your pity,” he hissed. “It’s insulting.”

“Gods damn it all, Astarion!” Tav exclaimed suddenly, causing him to jump in surprise. She threw her hands up in defeat. “I’m not doing anything out of pity! I don’t want to rage at you, because I know that whatever I say right now, I won’t mean it come the morning!”

Astarion blinked. Once again he was left feeling flat footed by the turn of the conversation. Sensing his surprise, Tav continued on with her deluge of words.

“You hurt me tonight, and I’m angry at you - and at Gale, for that matter - for what you did. But you’ve shared enough of your… history… with me, that I realize your behavior is just… just a byproduct of centuries of abuse and manipulation you’ve endured! And I won’t be another abuser in your life. I won’t,” she asserted.

Astarion continued staring at her, as if she were some otherworldly creature that had just wandered across his path. He watched as Tav inhaled a deep breath, releasing it shakily. She turned away from him to peer out into the forest, uncertain. She opened and closed her mouth several times before actually speaking. As if whatever she was about to say was more intimidating to her than anything else she’d said tonight.

“I… care deeply for you, Astarion,” she said quietly. “You obviously saw that in the vision. I’m not playing any games. There’s no hidden motive. I’m not trying to manipulate you.”

She turned to look at him again before continuing, her breathing a bit unsteady.

“I didn’t sleep with you that night of the tiefling party as some sort of maneuver to gain your trust. Although I understand if that was your motivation for doing so.”

Astarion’s expression morphed into one of guilt. But Tav nodded soberly, as if she had already expected it, before continuing on.

“It’s okay. I’m not angry. But I’m putting all my cards on the table now, so to speak. Actually, your decision tonight forced my hand, but I had been planning on telling you soon anyway. So, there you have it. The truth of my intentions. What you do with that information is up to you.”

She turned back to gaze out at their surroundings. Like she was giving him the opportunity to bolt away without her watching him. As if she expected him to flee from her confession.

But Astarion didn’t flee. He remained seated, staring at her in complete wonderment.

“Why?” he asked quietly.

She looked back at him again, confusion evident on her face.

“Why what?”

“Why do you care for me? You’re so… well-adjusted. And I’m well… this,” he finished lamely, placing a hand on his chest.

Tav pursed her lips. “It would be a mistake to misconstrue my empathy for you as me being well-adjusted. Everyone has their own demons, Astarion,” she murmured. “Mine just look different from yours.”

Astarion mulled her words over in his mind, considering them. He leaned forward to brace his forearms on his knees, his head drooping slightly.

“I…,” he started, unsure. “That vision… what it implied… You deserve something real, Tav. You’re incredible… truly.”

Tav closed her eyes, bracing for the fallout. Even though she would accept his decision, whatever it was, she didn’t think she could bear to watch him deny her. It would hurt too much.

“Look. When we met, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan,” he blurted all at once. Rising swiftly to his feet, Tav watched as he began to pace before her, near to bursting with frenetic energy.

“Seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me,” he counted off, laughing half-heartedly. “It was… easy - instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it. And all I had to do… was not fall for you… which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart,” he finished, stopping to stand before her.

She held his gaze, speechless.

“I want you,” he whispered fervently. “I want what was in that vision… I want us to be something real.”

Never in a million years had she thought he would respond to her like this. She opened her mouth to speak, but Astarion cut her off with another sudden exclamation.

“I just don’t know what real is,” he confessed, his tone a touch hysterical. Tav knew from his body language that being this transparent was completely out of Astarion’s comfort zone.

“Being… close to someone - any kind of intimacy - was something I performed to lure people back. For him. Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone still feels… tainted. Still brings up those feelings of disgust, and loathing. I… I don’t know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I’d like to,” he finished, staring at her with beseeching eyes, willing her to understand.

Tav rose to her feet, coming to stand before him.

“I don’t want you for your body,” she whispered. “Or to perform any acts of intimacy. We can be together, without sleeping together, for as long as you need.”

“Really,” he asked softly, his voice pitched low, rough with emotion.

“Really,” Tav asserted, giving him a small smile. “Would it be all right if…” she paused, conflicted. He eyed her curiously.

“Could I hug you?” she whispered.

The fact that she asked before doing so caused a well of emotion to spring up inside him. Eyes watering, Astarion nodded.

Slowly, Tav moved forward to wrap her arms around his waist. Her head nestled into the crook of his neck and shoulder. A perfect fit. He felt her exhale a deep sigh.

Tav hugging him was a sensation unlike any he had ever felt. At least, any he could remember feeling. The act of being touched, embraced, without any desire for something more. She just wanted to hold him, feel him close to her. It was incomprehensible to him, but utterly enjoyable, at the same time.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Astarion raised his arms to return Tav’s embrace. Drawing her even closer, he bowed his head to rest his cheek against her hair. It was soft, like the finest silk. He closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply, appreciating her sweet, floral scent.

She made to pull away after a moment, not wishing to overwhelm him. But Astarion gripped her more firmly, a silent urge for them to stay that way a little longer.

“This… this is nice,” he whispered.

He both felt and heard Tav hum contentedly in response.

It wasn’t identical to the vision from Tav’s mind that he had seen, but Astarion reveled in their embrace nonetheless. It felt like the beginning of something new. And for the first time in his very, very long life, Astarion felt excited at the prospects of what would come next.

#astarion #dancingbirdiewrites #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate astarion #baldur’s gate astarion #astarion x f!reader #astarion bg3 #bg3 astarion fic #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic

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hyperions-light · 3 months ago

Text

The Poison Fruit Ripens

#defendingtheending here we go

First of all mega super ultra spoilers for the ending teaser that Steam says like… 6% ? Of players have seen? So you’ve been warned. No cuts baby, it’s Miyazaki style

Okay, so it’s the Executors, and they’re probably coming across the sea in the next game (if EA doesn’t nuke BW), from what I can gather. I mean, this is fine from a lore perspective. All we knew about those people before is that 1) they are mysterious 2) they are from over there, across the ocean

And now they’re maybe connected to the revealed Qunari lore, which I am ! So excited to have! We already knew that the Qunari fled across the ocean for unspecified reasons, and that going back there was Not A Thing. But now we know that they left because of the (probably metaphorical?) Devouring Storm, which could be connected to the Executors. What are the odds that there are two separate Huge Bad Things Over There that both want to destroy Thedas? Probably is just one big thing— also the title Executor implies they are doing the bidding of someone else, so whatever the Qunari were talking about could be it. (They also talked about being agents of someone else’s will in the Inquisition War Table quest).

So the cinematic shows a bunch of our prominent villains from the previous games being influenced in some way by the Executors. Which I think people are upset about, but I think it’s fine because:

- They did not really specify the manner of influence. I would be annoyed if they retconned Loghain’s decision to leave Cailan on the battlefield because it makes him interesting, but they didn’t say that. They just said they influenced his decisions. They could have done that by stoking his paranoia about Orlais, or by planting Arl Howe to influence him after the battle. He did a lot of OOC stuff while he was King Regent, and this could be a chance to explain what didn’t make sense for his previously established character and was just put in there to make him seem Very Evil.

- They also were around some people doing a blood magic ritual… there weren’t enough of them to be the Magisters, technically, but that is usually what it looks like when we see them in DA art so I’m going to assume that’s them for now. I mean that’s wild if that’s what it is bc that was such a long time ago? Thee guys have really been playing the long game I guess

- The other person they directly influenced seems to be Bartrand, which is really easy because who the fuck gave him that damn map? We NEVER found out who pointed Bartrand to the Thaig! Someone did it, and they probably did it on purpose! It may as well be these guys

- the rest of the villains don’t get guys whispering to them, so I have to assume they mean to imply that they just set up the circumstances that would lead to these people gaining power. I mean someone sent the Carta to the Vimmark mountains, right? And there was like some weird demon there, too.

-So basically they’re just implying that these people have been manipulating events to make sure that shit in Thedas is hitting the fan all at once, which does kind of explain the frankly improbable number of world-ending events that have happened during the Dragon Age. I mean, three Blights, two Magisters, two Evanuris, Antaam invasion, major mage rebellion, Templar schism, and the death of the Southern Divine? It’s only been like 50 years!!! Before the Dragon Age there had only been four Blights since the Ancient Age! Shit does not normally happen this fast in Thedas

I think the phrase itself is pretty direct (also giving Southern Reach vibes). All this chaos they helped sew is reaching its culmination, and now they’re getting ready to cash in the chips. They’re coming to Thedas at the moment that all the great powers are at their weakest, when there’s basically no one to oppose them. Tevinter? Fucked. Qunari? No military anymore. Antiva? Haha! lol, even. Fereldan? Basically gone. Orlais? In shambles. Free Marches? Decimated. Anderfels? There’s like 100 Wardens left in a swamp. Nevarra? I actually don’t know, maybe the lichlords can do something. Maybe Rivain could field some token resistance if they didn’t get hit by the Antaam too badly, but that’s kind of it IMO. This is THE time to come in and conquer(?) the land, or whatever they’re trying to do. Kill everybody?? Turn them into Darkspawn? Who knows!

Some speculation about what could be done to repel invasion:

- shit ton of blood magic

- fix titans, wake them up??? But idk if they’d be into it

- adaari, but idk if there are that many

- people with dragon blood, like the Theirins, are maybe super special and can do things?

- pirates, baby!!! Woooooo!

- I guess Mythal could know something? She can see the future a bit

- dragon army! Dragon army!!

#dragon age #datv spoilers #veilguard #dragon age: the veilguard spoilers #veilguard spoilers #dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard

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ghostwise · 3 months ago

Note

oooh 51 for the touch prompts :)c

51. caressing the other’s cheek, 1k tags: rook x harding, male laidir, act 2 spoilers

Acute lyrium toxicity, reads the header across Emmrich’s handwritten notes. It is not something he is often called upon to treat, so he’s spent the past couple of evenings brushing up on the subject.

He’s read about lyrium’s use in dwarven runecraft, its application in the Circle of Magi as well as the Templar order, and, most intriguing to him, its susceptibility to Blight. He has even reviewed first-hand reports of red lyrium from the Inquisition, courtesy of their very own Inquisition scout, whose interest in the subject has become an all-consuming drive as of late. And for good reason, following her encounter with the Titan’s shadow.

Emmrich has read enough to feel reassured. By all accounts, Rook received a lyrium dosage several times greater than that given to a mage during their Harrowing, and yet, he is still breathing. Whatever Harding did to him down there worked. Usually non-lethal, once the substance is cleared from the blood, so say the texts.

But for Lace Harding, such words hold little weight. She won’t rest until she sees Rook open his eyes.

So Emmrich waits with her. He brings her another cup of tea and Manfred hovers close by, sugar tongs in hand.

“Thank you,” Harding whispers. She smiles weakly as Manfred sweetens her tea. One cube, two cubes, three. Four.

“That’s quite enough, Manfred,” Emmrich murmurs.

“It’s alright. I need all the sweetness I can get,” Harding says, and, for Manfred’s sake, sips at the sugary tea.

The skeleton utters a pleased, gurgling hiss before returning to Laidir’s side, sitting opposite Harding.

“You know, Harding,” Emmrich says carefully, “You should rest. His condition is stable. And I dare say, Manfred has been as constant a caregiver as you and I have.”

“Thank you for your concern,” Harding says evenly. “I’m fine.”

“Lace-” Emmrich sighs.

“Really, Emmrich.” She looks up at him, a puffy and dark quality to the skin under her eyes. “I’m fine. You forget, I’ve spent the last decade… dealing with crisis. Finding solutions.” She shifts and sets her teacup upon the bedside table. “With the Inquisition, I set up new outposts and explored places I’d never dreamed of seeing. Since then, I’ve traveled everywhere—tracking Solas, fighting Venatori, slavers, mercenaries—so, sitting here beside him? It’s easy, Emmrich. Too easy, maybe. This isn’t a problem I can aim an arrow at. It’s…”

Emmrich watches her lapse into silence. She’d done a good job putting things into words, up until she hit a feeling she couldn’t name. He’s a romantic himself; he’s well aware of the tangled paths hearts can take.

“When you first became aware of this… complication, between your emotions and your new-found abilities,” he says slowly, “You mentioned feeling somewhat responsible. And I told you-”

“To be patient,” Harding completes.

On the bed, Lirio lets out a raspy breath. She looks at him for a moment, waiting for his breathing to relax again, before continuing.

“I appreciated that, you know. It was good advice. Everyone else kept saying, don’t worry. But why wouldn’t I worry? I had no clue what was happening to me, and I worse, I was hurting someone I cared about. Or they’d say, it’s not your fault. But it wasn’t about it being my fault, it was about…”

Another pause. Emmrich let his mind wander for a moment, down a hypothetical path: if he had changed, unexpectedly, completely, in such a way that he inadvertently hurt those dearest to him, what would he think?

“It was about understanding yourself,” he guesses. “Making peace with the power.”

“Yeah,” Lace nods. “Yeah, I never felt it was my fault. But I knew it was my responsibility to figure it out. Maybe I never would. And would he be okay with that? Would I?” She glances away, recalling the conversation. “He said he would. I’m inclined to believe him.”

“And now?” Emmrich prompts.

“Now…” Lace shakes her head at the wonder that is her life. “I didn’t ask for this gift, but I have it anyway. The pain the Titans experienced eons upon eons ago… to me, it feels like it happened just yesterday. That’s not my fault. That’s not anyone’s fault. I don’t think it’s something the Titan did to me purposefully, anyway.”

She hesitates, gathering her next words. She still finds it challenging to explain some pieces of what she experienced, but she tries anyway, knowing Emmrich will try to understand.

“Their sense of time is different… a continent could take a lifetime to form, mountains and forests blinking in and out of view. They don’t exist, quick and isolated from others, like we do. And I’m not sure if Titans feel love like we feel love. But they feel connection, through the lyrium. And without connection, there’s just… nothing. The most horrible nothing. A complete inversion of the connection they need to survive.”

“Isatunoll,” Emmrich says with a smile.

“Isatunoll,” Harding echoes softly. “I’m not a Titan. I have to feel like a person feels. Lirio helped me see that.”

“Ah, yes. By exposing himself to the Titan’s lyrium fully!”

Harding glances up at him. Suddenly, she laughs; the clearest sound of laughter he’s heard from her in days.

“You are looking at me with the biggest, cheesiest smile, Emmrich,” she says. “You’re all… mushy and sappy…”

“It’s terribly romantic, Harding,” Emmrich sighs. “I’m happy for you. That’s all.”

“Um. Thank you.” She giggles. “Really, thank you. For all your help. I’m happy too. Or, I will be. Just as soon as I can speak to him. As soon as I know I can…”

Across the bed, Manfred clatters his ribs. A shiver of bones lends way to a happy hiss. Emmrich and Lace look up, conversation forgotten, as Lirio stirs; all stiff muscles and post-lyrium aches.

Lirio cracks open his eyes and blinks as the world around him comes into focus, slowly. All he can see is a bloom of red, the exact shade of which immediately thrills him. “Lace,” he murmurs, though he can’t quite see her yet.

“Lirio,” she breathes. “I’m here.”

She reaches a trembling hand to cup his cheek. She watches for that characteristic blue glow, but it doesn’t come. Then Rook reaches up to cover her hand with his own, leaning into the touch as naturally as rain falls on the windward side of a mountain.

“I’ll fetch more tea,” Emmrich says hurriedly. He pulls Manfred along, away from the two.

As he goes, he thinks to himself again, isatunoll. And wonders whether mountains and people have more in common than Harding had guessed.

#thank youuu <3 this is quite rambly but i wanted to fluff up that act 2 scene bc it wrapped up far too quickly for my liking #rinnywrites #dragon age #datv #lace harding #rook x harding #laidir #oc: lirio laidir

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blue-jisungs · 1 year ago

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i keep thinking about like seo yul who has been hired to be a personal guard to the reader. and she's either like the daughter of a rly noble family or a princess just someone rly highly established in society who needs protection

and yul falls in love as soon as he sees her, he's literally so whipped he would do whatever she asked him. and once she realizes that he's not gonna tell her what to do like everyone else in her life, she starts to fall too. and like he helps her sneak out and they're just idiots in love <//3

LIKE U JUST KNOW YUL WOULD BREAK THE RULES WHEN HES SO SO IN LOVE CAUSE HE DID IT BEFORE AND THAT THOUGHT MAKES MY BRAIN GO CRAZY SKDFJSK

training // calming balm

author's note. HI ZANNA CUTIE THANK J FOR THE YUL REQ LIKE I NEEDED RHAT IN MY LIFE!!! i hope u enjoy it bc personally i feel like it isnt the best thing i’ve written :(

summary. yul falls for you // soft moments w yul as your guard

word count. 3,6k

“a bodyguard?” seo yul repeated in disbelief, eyes wide and directed at his uncle. his voice echoed in the wide room as the older man just nodded.

“the l/n family just moved here and they’re a well respected people. their daughter was raised not to cause any harm and live peacefully; therefore, in case of an attack she wouldn’t be able to protect herself” park jin explained calmly. yul just nodded “it’s not going to be a permanent occupation, only until the time they find a professional guard for their daughter”

“i understand” yul bowed gently.

“i’m glad. we’ll pay them a visit in a while, i’d want you to go with me” park jin announced. his nephew didn’t say anything, just nodded. the older watched him leave the room almost as quietly as a rustle of wind.

yul was smiling gently while talking to your parents, genuinely invested in why they moved here. the tea that was served was truly delightful and he couldn’t help himself but ask for more. when the discussion topic turned into a political one, the young mage looked around the garden. the gazebo they were seated in was cozy and prettily decorated, you could see the majority of the open space with one’s bare eye.

suddenly, yul saw a movement behind the peony bushes. he straighted his back and his hand rested on the grip of his sword.

eyes trained on the bush, he frowned upon hearing some voices.

out of the blue, someone fell from the bushes with a yelp. everyone looked that way, lady l/n letting out a huff.

“there she is… gods, this child will make me die because of an heart attack one day” she mumbled.

indeed, there was a young lady standing in front of the peony bush. she was dusting off the pink flower petals and leaves from her pastel purple hanbok. everyone could notice she was saying something to herself and seemingly, she didn’t realise she wasn’t alone.

“this is our daughter, y/n” your father sighed.

you looked up and suddenly saw the four people’s gazes on you. blood of embarrassment rushing to your cheeks, you approached them.

bowing gently you greeted the guests and a young man caught your attention. it seemed that you caught his too – he was staring at you in awe.

“greetings” you mumbled and refused to look at the unfamiliar people.

“where have you been– you know what? i done even wish to know. this is your new bodyguard, seo yul” your father pointed at the young man in light purple hanbok. you smiled upon realising it had the shade as yours. sending him a nod, he bowed.

his face was truly handsome and being honest, you were glad it was him and not the older man seated next to him.

“it is my pleasure to meet you. i promise, a single hair won’t fall off your head as long as i’ll be guarding you” he said softly. his ebony irises were glued to you, enchanted by your beauty. park jin just lifted the corner of his lips in a smirk, noticing how smittened his nephew is.

“and your name is…?” you asked, ignoring the look your mother sent your way.

“seo yul, lady l/n” the brown haired man replied, his feline-alike features causing you to study his face. then, your gaze fell upon his plum-shaded hanbok with tender, blueish sewings forming peonies. how ironic.

“i like your hanbok, seo yul” you smiled and bowed, then looked at your parents “i still need to unpack my baggage so if you’ll excuse me, i shall get going”

they just nodded and dived back in to the conversation whereas the young mage’s eyes followed you until you disappeared inside the house.

you were so pretty and graceful yet – unlike choyeon – you had a rebellious spark in your eye. something in you just intrigued seo yul and he didn’t even notice when he tried to drink from an empty porcelain cup.

the young mage arrived at your residence, the warm sun heating up his skin pleasantly. the fresh air was filled with the scent of flowers that blossomed in the garden, the birds’ singing beautifully filling in the silence.

someone from the servants led him to your chamber and knocked gently, looking at the new addition to the staff.

“lady y/n is very… childish. please, don’t be afraid to tell her no if she has an ridiculous idea or a foolish request” they said. yul frowned and suddenly the door opened, your maid looking the man up and down.

“you may come in” she said and yul stepped inside.

“who is it?” your voice rung in the room yet you weren’t nowhere in sight. only when your maid came to the folding screen and stepped behind it, he realised you’re there.

blush hit his cheeks and he shook his head.

“it’s seo yul, lad–” he started.

“we’re the same age, i assume. please, don’t use any of the honorific words and nicknames” you hummed and then said something to your maid “this ribbon, please”

yul looked around the room. he didn’t spend much time with noble women except choyeon, yet he thought it’s something known that women tend to be tidy. well…

maybe your room was somehow clean, it definitely had it’s own charm. history books on the floor, along with calligraphy supplies. horse-themed ornaments scattered on the wooden furniture, makeup tools next to a pretty mirror and… empty plates.

“can you show me around the city today, yul?”

his gaze snapped up and he felt his face get warm when he noticed you caught him staring. but there was no anger or disgust in your eyes, no. pure amusement and excitement.

“of course” he nodded, taking in the sight of you. today, you decided to wear a faint yellow hanbok. the sewings at the bottom of the dress were gold and formed a beautiful scenery: young deers, forest plants and wild birds. the rest of the clothing, including the frame of your sleeves, was white. there was a yellow ribbon in your braided hair.

“we shall go, then” you grinned and energetically stormed out of the room. he looked shocked at the maid. the older lady just sighed, dramatically wiping her forehead.

“good luck” she just mumbled and seo yul chased after you, with a love-struck smile.

“so? what are you going to show me? can we see the mage place?” you asked, not even turning around when you heard his footsteps approaching.

you knew he’d say no: you heard that only mages were allowed to enter the place and after all – sadly – you were no mage.

“sure, i’ll take you to jeongjinjak. but be aware that the mages might not be too pleased to see you there” he answered casually and just when he caught up with you, you halted your movements. yul realised he had to stop and turn around, blinking.

“really?” you asked in disbelief, lips forming into a huge smile.

“of course, why not?” seo yul returned your smile.

“i thought… ah, it doesn’t matter. we should go, then” you hummed happily.

yul already knew that he won’t be able to resist you.

“oh my, it’s beautiful here” you sighed when you entered jeongjinjak. the place was spacious and quiet, the air filled with a feeling of seriousness and a scent of old books “do you live here?”

yul nodded, his hand intertwined behind his back as you two strolled around the place carefully.

“my uncle is in charge of this place” yul added. passing by some young mages that were training, you sent them a sweet smile and bowed gently.

they all stared at you in awe, immediately losing focus and stumbling over their own feet. giggling at that, you failed to notice the disapproving look yul sent them.

“i always wanted to at least possess the power ryusu” you hummed sadly “but my parents were never willing to find me a teacher, even though they know some of the stages themselves. selfish, isn’t it?”

you turned to yul and his apologetic smile. there was a certain softness in his features, a look that was different to what you always stumble upon. most of the people assumed you’re a spoiled brat and treated you this way. but yul was the only one who didn’t: he was carefully listening and genuinely cared about what you said.

“i can teach you the basics, y/n” he offered and before you could burst out with happiness, he quickly added “but it must remain a secret between us”

“of course it will” you grinned and quickly went to hug him. you realized your actions and froze, feeling ashamed of your impulsiveness. seo yul noticed that and his heart ached with a strange feeling. were you taught to suppress your emotions? “thank you so much, yul”

“it will be my pleasure, la– y/n” he smiled, ebony irises glinting with happiness. you held eye contact for a mere moment longer before there was a sudden bang.

it was the mages in training who were just staring at you and didn’t notice that they tripped over the edge of the passage.

spending time with yul became a part of your routine. however, it wasn’t a negative thing. you loved his company; for the first time ever you felt like you had a friend. someone who truly cared for you.

a knock at your door caused you to smile. yul had a specific pattern of knocking – it sounded like a tender melody, rhythmic but pleasant to listen to.

“come in!” you hummed, finishing braiding your hair. your guard entered, bowing and scanning your figure (not so) secretly.

“good morning” he hummed, stepping in. you could read it on his face that he wanted to add something but halted from doing so. ‘you look stunning today’ was what lingered on his lips, albeit his shyness prevented him from wording it out.

“what should we do today?” you asked, tilting your head.

you adored seo yul – he always kept up with your ideas and temper. most of the maids were old and always too tired to even take a short walk. even though he wasn’t your maid – and certainly, he wasn’t old – he never had a problem with taking strolls around the city or showing you the neighbourhood . sometimes it included walking through hills, high grasses and small rivers. but he was always willing to do so.

“is there something particular you wish to do?” he asked, his tender voice calm as always.

“not really, no” you shook your head.

“then, we could go–”

he wasn’t meant to finish when your mother barged into the room. her face morphing into relief when she noticed you.

“you’re here, good. do not leave the house today, i heard there are some… civil commotions in the city. and it’s been dangerous lately” she said and her eyes met yul’s. he bowed “oh, you’re here. you can go home now. y/n’s not leaving the household today”

“but mother, i–” you started.

“no. it’s too dangerous” she cut you off and left, the maids closing the door behind her.

yul watched your features grow sad and his heart sank. you lost your excitement, eyes gradually fogging with a strange, bland emotion.

“it’s fine. i’m not in the mood anymore, you can go home” you mumbled, turning your face to the window.

“i’m not in the position to disobey your mother’s orders, however i’m your guard” yul offered and carefully studied your reaction “and not to brag or be overconfident, but you’re going to be safe under my watch”

there was a ghost of a smile dancing on your lips as you played with the hem of your hanbok.

“mhm… and what if my parents found out?” you hummed, cocking your eyebrow.

“i’d take the responsibility” yul said seriously. shaking your head, you stood up.

“no need, i was just teasing you. shall we go, then? where are we going, anyway?” you asked.

“to the market. i believe you haven’t seen it yet, y/n?” he asked with a tender smile.

“no, our maids do the duty of providing food…” you hesitated and stopped yul before he left. his eyes widened when he felt your hand on his chest “how are we going to leave? it’s the middle of the day, everyone will see us”

“just trust me, lady” he hummed and slid his hand to grab yours “may i?”

you nodded. yul’s gentle and smooth hand took in yours, as if scared that he’ll cause harm. blush spreading across your cheeks, you looked away and let him lead you.

seo yul was like a cat – his moves were sharp and calculated, paying attention to if someone is coming or not. in no time, you left through the back door and the garden. finding yourself in the middle of a busy street, you looked at him with wide eyes and a smile of gratitude.

“i’ll be using this route” you grinned and saw a flash of fear go through his face.

“no, don’t do that… you’ll get hurt or…” he started and you let out a gasp, drawing some passersby’s attention.

“what is that? that colorful thing? wait, yul, are those parrots?” you yelped in excitement and he couldn’t help but laugh sincerely. his features dropped when you ran off.

“wait a moment!” he giggled, adoring your excitement.

yul walked you through the market, explaing who’s selling what. the delicious smells and colors surrounded you, mouth agape as you took in all the amazing views. the young mage was stealing glances at you and how adorable you were while doing that.

“oh, the sweets!” he hummed and noticed you look that way curiously.

“can we get some?” you asked.

“of course” he grinned, hands interlocked behind his back. he followed you slowly while you already approached the seller. eyes meeting, you stood closer to him once yul arrived.

“what are we having? my treat!” you grinned “all of them look delicious…”

“my favourite are the pine pollen tea ones” he mumbled shyly, pointing at the greenish cookies.

“well then, we’ll have each one of everything” you hummed and noticed the seller’s eyes widen.

“ah, yul!”

you both turned around and saw a man with blonde hair approach you. while yul was distracted, you said something to the snack seller.

“what a beautiful lady… my name is park danggu” the blond man bowed dramatically as you stared him up and down.

“uh-uh. nice to meet you, i’m l/n y/n” you smiled and frowned, looking at yul. he just smiled.

“that’s a friend of mine” your guard explained and noticed all the snacks are already packed, waiting for you. suddenly, yul had a strange feeling ache in his heart: he did not want you to talk too much with danggu. “shall we go home?”

“oh, already?” you pouted, grabbing the bag. yul took it from you, fingers brushing against each other. blush spread on both of your cheeks. danggu smiled upon that.

“yeah, i’m busy either way. i will see you around, yul. don’t come home too late, though” danggu wiggled his brows and was off before yul could even say something.

“he’s silly” you snickered and poked his arm. yul seemed flustered.

on your way back you chatted all the time. you decided you won’t go anywhere once you’re home, so you dismissed yul to go back (only after thanking him for his company, of course).

once back at jeongjinjak, yul was surprised to see a package addressed for him.

it turned out you bought all the pine pollen tea snacks for him and had them delivered at his dorm.

the mage couldn’t help but melt and smile absentmindedly at the gesture.

for a couple of days yul was dismissed from his duties: your parents gave him some spare time and you said you’re not in the mood to leave the house. it left him pondering if something is wrong and decided to ask you if everything is alright.

the time he spent without you made him realise something: life is bland when you’re not by his side. you’re so lively and energetic, yet so adorable at the same time. he missed you and had this tingling feeling in his heart whenever you weren’t around. yul was looking forward to the day he’ll meet you again.

after finally coming back to his duties, he went right away to your chamber. it was late and dark outside but a messenger called him, saying it was urgent. the mage thought something dangerous was happening.

“y/n?” yul asked, coming into the room. there was a couple of candles lighting up the room, shadows dancing on the walls.

“yul! let’s go out!” you whisper-yelled, grabbing his hands. a pleasant warmth spread through his body before he processed your words.

“what? i thought it was an emergency and you got hurt…” he mumbled.

“no, no. i’m fine. just bored to death… are there any horses…?” you asked hesitantly.

“h-horses?” he choked out, eyes widening. you shrugged nonchalantly.

“i feel like going on a horse ride”

you are insane.

“sure, we’ll find something” he scoffed, shaking his head. he shouldn’t be doing this; none of this, at all. he’s about to sneak out with a lady he was supposed to protect and do something that could potentially harm you. which, he was here to prevent in the first place.

but he couldn’t help it! he felt like you put a spell on him, he just wasn’t able to resist.

“we shall go then, my lady” he hummed. good thing the room was dimmed, otherwise he’d see how your face reddened with a shade of ruby-alike shade of the yin and yang jade.

yul held your hand gently and helped you leave through the window. erupting into quiet giggles when you almost stepped on his feet or when you passed the peony bush where he first saw you. under the cover of dark night sky, yul led you to a nearest stallion. he looked around, making sure no one saw you.

“y/n, do you even know how–” he turned around and gasped when he saw you already on the horse.

“can we go to the pretty fields? please…” you mumbled. yul nodded slowly and hopped on a horse too, leading the way.

“we should be back before sunrise…” he mumbled. there was a look of calmness in your face, almost unfamiliar.

wind in your hair, the sound of horse hooves pleasantly clacking against the ground underneath the starry sky caused your heart to soothe. the smell of fresh grass and yul’s silhouette beautifully framed by moonlight – it was a moment that you wanted to stay in forever.

arriving at the fields, you stopped next to a small stream. the water was rustling pleasantly, hypnotizing you. yul realized that you stopped following him and turned around, looking at you. something was troubling your mind, clearly.

“yul-ah”

even in the faint light you saw his eyes widen. cute.

“yes, y/n?” he asked, voice gentle.

“i think i… no. um, actually, no. i’ve been practising ryusu! can i show you?” you asked and he nodded, locking his hands between his back.

you put your body strength on your legs, focusing to keep your moves sharp and clean. chest moving up and down to keep your breathing regular and steady. just when you thought you got it–

“y/n, i think… my heart longs for you when you’re not present but then it acts as if it was possessed whether you hold my hand… i’d rather look at you than all of the stars or beautiful ornaments” yul said, his words carried by wind.

letting out a shaky breath, you looked at him. moonlight shining on his handsome face and somewhat scared eyes.

“why did i say that…” he mumbled.

you let out a melodic laugh and ran up to him, wrapping hands around his neck. yum was startled but held you gently.

“you fool” you mumbled, smiling against the fabric of his hanbok “my heart calls out for you too. i’ve been meaning to say that for while, that’s why i needed some time alone”

“huh?”

you leaned away and gently grabbed his face, cupping his cute cheeks.

“you’re the only one who understands me, yul-ah. i bask in your warmth and kindness, your spirit makes me feel alive– can… can i kiss you? i’m out of words” you asked. yup nodded shyly, unsure what to do with his hands.

placing your lips on his plump ones, he instinctively wrapped hus hands around your waist. pulling you closer and smiling softly into the kiss.

when you felt like you were running out of your breath, he pulled away.

“you need more training though…”

a frown formed on your face and he snickered.

“with ryusu?” you asked, unable to believe he just said that.

“no– well, yes. if you train your breathing, you’ll be able to kiss longer” a smirk danced on his lips “or the other way around. fortunately for you, i can help with such matter”

suddenly his eyes widened, the flirty behaviour disappeared in a blink of an eye.

“don’t tell your parents. or my uncle. we’re kind of… breaking the rules”

“i won’t” you smiled sweetly and tip-toed to smooch his cheek.

years spend alone without friends or love, barely with your parents caused your heart to ache in a mysterious and hurtful way. but now, with yul by your side, a soothing feeling washed over it as if someone put a calming balm. a balm called love.

masterlist <3

taglist. @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @primoppang ,, @dazzlingligth

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cannedpickledpeaches · 10 months ago

Text

Insert Your Name (10)

Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader

Link to series masterlist!

Notes and TW: You have a conversation with a "god." This series will have mentions of blood, violence, crime (kidnapping, attempted assassination, extortion), and harassment, as one might expect from a mafia AU. Please enjoy!

Tags: @guava-enjoyer @itszzmoon @twstsandturns @myteacupisempty @rou-luxe @chikitasmol @night-shadowblood-writes2 @haveneulalie @owodi

You thought as much for a while—that this world exists inside a story. This world is created for “(Y/N),” and you are Friend A, according to that manuscript. But after all this time, your own thoughts and Jade’s persistent questioning has led you to doubt it. Jade was the one who said you aren’t a character, that the two of you have “thoughts and feelings that go beyond ink on paper.”

But a god? It isn’t a common word in Twisted Wonderland. The Seven are legends, but they were real mages who lived millennia past. Some religions exist, but they’re mostly local. To see someone proclaim themself as a god before your eyes seems like a joke.

The man notes your skepticism and chuckles.

“I only mean it in relation to your abilities. It will become clear as I explain.” He takes another sip of tea. “Twisted Wonderland is a place made from stories, for stories. Broadly speaking, it is a ‘story setting.’ And my purpose is to make stories come to life.”

You try to make sense of his words. Referring to himself as a god, talking about what he does to stories . . . . “Are you the author of that manuscript?”

“No, I’m afraid you have come to the wrong conclusion. I make stories come to life, but it has been a long time since I’ve penned one onto paper. As for the matter of the identity of the author, you would not have to look very far, as she has spoken to you only moments prior.”

You inhale sharply. Your eyes drift to the window as your thoughts start to whirl. That can only be (Y/N). She was the author all along? It would make sense since she’s the main character. But nothing else adds up. Her odd behaviour, her breakdown, her supposedly lost memories of you. You’re also pretty sure she has never met Jade prior to the events of the manuscript playing out in real life. How could she have written it before that? Furthermore, you don’t believe (Y/N) could ever be the type of person to imagine harm coming to anyone, even in a fictional story, even if it’s to Jade’s parents whom she has also never met.

“To clarify, that person is not the one you’ve known for some time.” He chuckles at your bewilderment. “(Y/N) was a character created to be a placeholder. Tell me, do you recall her appearance?”

“Of course I—” You cut yourself off. The only things you can think of are adjectives. Pretty. Dainty. A messy bun. A slim waist. Gorgeous, sparkling eyes. You can’t even remember their colour.

“(Y/N), which stands for ‘Your Name,’ is a placeholder. A blank space where anyone can insert their name.” The teacup clinks against its saucer. “It is supposed to be a one-size-fit all. However, the (Y/N) you know was created for a specific person. The name that was intended to replace this placeholder is that of a girl who lives outside this story setting—a girl who did not exist in Twisted Wonderland. That is the true author of this story.”

You don’t understand what he means by “placeholder.” But you know what he means by people who live outside your world. You recall the twins and Azul mentioning something similar. Shrimpy. Prefect. That human from their high school days, someone who supposedly came from another world. Someone who did not exist in Twisted Wonderland before coming here.

“Were there other cases of . . . well, people from other worlds?”

“Certainly. Like I said, Twisted Wonderland is a place made from stories, for stories. Seeing as tales of strangers in strange lands are the foundation for many stories, from folklore to modern novels, it is not strange to believe someone could be the protagonist of a story where they are pulled from another world to this one.” He pauses when he sees your furrowed brows. “I must apologize again. I am often chastised for my long-winded deliveries.”

“Yeah, you talk too much. Cut the fluff and tell me.”

He chuckles. “Yes, of course. The most recent prior to this case was one named Yuu, although that character was not under my jurisdiction. Your author, however, is under my jurisdiction. She was a fan of Yuu’s story. Once it ended, she sought to extend the story. Essentially, she wrote a fanfiction, which is the very manuscript you stumbled upon. The setting is Twisted Wonderland years after Yuu's story, and the main character she created is an idealistic version of herself—the person she wished she could be.”

It makes sense why you could only think of positive adjectives when describing her. (Y/N) was indeed, like you’d thought from the start, created to be perfect.

“Day after day, she wished with all her soul to insert herself into that story, to live out that fantasy. Eventually, I heard her wishes and decided to grant them. I gave her the opportunity to enter (Y/N)’s body.”

“You can do that?”

“My dear,” he says pleasantly, “there was a reason why I likened myself to a god from your perspective.”

So they weren’t empty words or narcissism. This man has powers you have never even heard of.

The first thing you feel is a wave of relief. So the person who came screaming at you with the intent to kill was not (Y/N), after all. It was someone who took over her body. A stranger took over the body of your beloved friend, took over her life, her relationships, her autonomy . . . A stranger. The second thing you feel is anger. How dare they. How dare they waltz in and ruin everything? You keep quiet and listen to the man’s explanation, resentment bubbling in your gut.

“So the author abandoned her previous life to enter your world. It came with a few caveats: she must lose her name and run the course of the story as (Y/N). Only after the story’s conclusion would she regain her name. Another caveat was that she did not have access to (Y/N)’s memories. I imagine it was a point of curiosity for you—why she seemed to forget everything about who you are.”

You narrow your eyes. “It wasn’t Walrus?”

“I am afraid not. She has never encountered Walrus.”

Deductions and contemplations can be wrong. You know this better than anyone. Yet, you can’t help but feel cheated. With all the information you had, how could you possibly have known? It’s as though you were blindsided by a truck. Looking back, it makes sense. The elusive identity of the author. How the manuscript contains insider knowledge about events concerning the Leech family. Of course it does, the author was the one who wrote those details into existence. Even her reaction to seeing you on the beach, which must have been her first time meeting you. Of course she was confused when Jade mentioned you to her. You don’t have a name in the story. How could she possibly know the name of Friend A?

“Walrus is a character who ties up inconsistencies from the original plot. I had to work hard to ensure it all fell in line.”

“Aren’t you a ‘god?’ Can’t you just, I don’t know, make it happen?”

He laughs. “I am not omnipotent. I can only influence factors that make the story more likely to happen. As in, I can create ‘events,’ which influence ‘responses and actions.’ Characters are defined by their base character traits and then shaped through events; this is what is called character development. I design and set into motion events that will most likely produce the desired characterization. Notably, I cannot control characters or their emotions. I must say, that young lady did not understand this concept very well. Her events were heavily focused on what her favourite characters could do for (Y/N), as opposed to building a foundation so they would wish to do such things. It was rather difficult to make sure the pieces fell in place so those events could occur.”

Several things connect in your mind like a line of dominoes tipping each other over. The manual first appeared in that attic with no clear origin—he must have planted it there because you, Jade, and Floyd are the only people who enter that room. Jade fell asleep in (Y/N)’s apartment because he was busy to the point of exhaustion after taking up the mantle as the leader of the mafia. (Y/N) did not become Floyd’s mood stabilizer. Jade did not fall in love with her. When she—the author—confronted you on the beach, she blamed you as the reason why Jade would not love her. But that isn’t entirely true, is it? Her “events”—Jade cooking for her, sleeping in the same bed—relies on Jade already having feelings for her. But to Jade, she was a stranger he met in an alley. You understand a crucial fact: actions and emotions cannot be manipulated.

“I admit that I panicked and caused you alarm when I tried to send you and Jade away from that beach. That whole debacle was not an event in the story, so I caused some factors that led to Floyd accidentally breaking one of Jade’s terrariums. It was not a serious emergency.” He grows pensive. “But now that the story has gone completely off the rails, I must figure out how to proceed. The author is quite upset with me, especially since she thought with my help, the story was guaranteed to go exactly as written.”

“You were communicating with her?”

“Periodically, yes.” He sips his tea, looking directly at you. “But she was terribly hard-headed and refused to listen to my words.”

What a waste. She had a god on her side, yet she couldn’t use her brain to take advantage of it? Perhaps it’s your bias against her, but you can’t think well of the author.

“Why did you decide to grant her wish, anyway?”

The man lowers his gaze with a soft smile. “I am a storyteller at heart, and she had a story she desperately wanted to become her reality.”

You grit your teeth. “So what? It’s only made things difficult for everyone. Is that shitty story even worth telling?”

“What do you use to judge a story’s worth? The number of people who read it? The number of critics or fans? These are all irrelevant.” His eyes, though gentle in the warm light of the fireplace, hold silvery clarity and resolution from the moonlight. “All that matters is that one person found enjoyment in it. Even if the only person who loves a story is its author, that story has served its purpose. There is no such thing as a meaningless story. Every writer sets out to write a story for a reason, be it wealth, fame, personal satisfaction, a creative outlet . . . . Why do you think this author wrote hers?”

It doesn’t take a genius. Her obsessive, near delusional insistence that Jade loves her. Her breakdown from seeing the two of you together on that beach. Her malice towards you, perceived to be standing in the way of her love. Of her happiness.

“She wanted to be loved.”

She wrote a story where she could project herself onto a perfect, infallible main character. In this story, her favourite character would love and spoil her. They’d overcome trials and eventually live out their happily ever after, blissfully in love, even past the story she wrote. She wanted to be loved fully, completely, and unconditionally.

You feel a little sorry for her. But if you were to be honest . . .

“Why the fuck should I care?” You slam your hands on the coffee table, glaring at the man sitting across from you. Your hands curl into fists. “I don’t give a shit about her personal life. Jade and Floyd’s parents are in a coma. They’ve been worried sick. And that’s just fine? Because she wanted to live in her little fantasy of being loved? If I believe everything you say, then she’s the one who wrote that assassination into our lives. Without her, Mister and Missus Leech would be perfectly fine and running everything as usual. Jade and Floyd wouldn’t be missing sleep and meals. Jade could go study terrestrial plants and fungi like he’s always wanted instead of working himself to the bone for the mafia. You’re telling me I’m just supposed to accept it just because she’s got a sob story? And even worse, none of this would’ve happened without you.”

The assassination attempt is mentioned in the story as an offscreen event. In order for it to be true, the man across from you most likely manipulated events so that the attempt would be carried out. Just like he’s been doing for every event, all this time.

You want to lunge across the coffee table. You want to wrap your fingers around his thin throat, dig your thumbs into his carotid arteries, punch his nose in. But you don’t. You restrain yourself, your hands shaking on the table. With his abilities, he could easily make your life impossible.

“Fanfiction is fine. People can write what they want. But her fanfiction has very real consequences on my life and the people I care about. Why would you even help her knowing the harm she’s causing?”

Hypocrite, Floyd has once called you. That author is selfish in that she’s chasing her own happiness at the expense of what she considers minor characters. You’re selfish in that you’re ensuring happiness for yourself and your loved ones at the expense of the author, a stranger to you. You’d be a hypocrite for condemning her, but you don’t mind. You haven’t gotten this far by sacrificing yourself for strangers.

“Why, of course.” The man tilts his head as though it’s obvious. “No story can progress without conflict. You are a supporting character, as are the main male lead’s parents. Forgive me, but such characters are expendable for the purpose of the plot.”

It suddenly dawns on you. You should’ve realized sooner. This man doesn’t see you as a person. He only sees you as another character within a story, a particularly troublesome one who has messed up the plot beyond repair. You might wholeheartedly believe yourself to be a fleshed out human being with thoughts, feelings, and everything else, but he will always think of that as you being a character. His powers and knowledge of the world make him vastly different from you. He cannot talk to you on equal terms.

It’s like if an ant gained sentience and spoke to a human. Even with the ability to communicate perfectly, the ant would never be able to understand why humans enjoy roller coasters or haunted houses, no matter how much either side tries to explain. Similarly, you would never understand this man’s desire to turn stories that are destructive to “characters” into reality. So, you won’t try. You’ll work with his rules.

“I may have a solution to the derailed plot.” You look at him with determination quietly burning in your eyes. “It’s pretty simple if you can do it. Make me the main character.”

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #mafia au #multi chap fic #finally got to this chapter #this chapter is the reason why I wrote this story fr #i hope it makes sense

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kivino · 2 years ago

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FANTASY AU WITH VALERIA!

Word Counter - ~900 words.

Summary – self-indulgent thoughts with Rogue!Valeria in a fantasy setting!

Tags/Warnings – very much Dragon Age coded, reader is a mage/healer, mentions of blood and injury, this is very corny™, gn!reader.

A/n – wrote it almost in one go, very sorry if someone already did something like this! I originally planned for my first writing post to be Graves fanfiction that I’m working on right now, but I just couldn’t contain myself, lololol

Rogue!Valeria who stumbles into your clinic one moonlit night while running away from the city guard, hands clawing at her side, blood seeping through the delicate fabric of her shirt and vest, slipping in and out of consciousness, as she tries to hold onto the cold walls that smelled of medicine and herbs.

Rogue!Valeria who made so much noise and racket downstairs that it woke you up better than any of your assistants could. You fly out of your bed, covers and colorful duvets trailing behind you in a stream of fabric, long forgotten on the floor of your bedroom as you run down the stairs, in fear that somebody broke into your clinic, no patients of yours were staying overnight today. Any words that could’ve been said evaporate as you see a woman, bleeding out on the floor, back propped up against the counter, and…are those daggers she is carrying?

Rogue!Valeria who wakes up the next morning in someone else’s bed, her wound freshly bandaged, hot breakfast already prepared for her. And at that moment she thinks she must’ve died and gone to the Fade. Where else would she see a spirit as beautiful as you?

Rogue!Valeria who tried her best to leave this quiet haven, full of smells, colors, and so many things unknown to her (she’s no mage after all), but she just can’t, throbbing pain in her abdomen stopping her the moment she even tries to stand up among the quiet murmurs of your patients and their relatives. You throw her a stern look, and she is immediately pinned to the soft sheets like her body is not her own.

Rogue!Valeria who finally has a chance to talk to you once it’s time to change the bandages on her wound. You sit near her, your voice quiet, asking “May I?”, as you delicately remove the covers. Valeria asks if you can speed up the recovery, seeing what a miracle worker you were, treating the patients all day with the help of not only healing salves, herbs, and potions but also magic. And you decide to grant her request, hands gliding along the surface of her skin, Valeria’s stab wound slowly closing and a delicate, light scar forming. She doesn’t know how much that takes out of you until your assistant helps you walk back to your room to get much-needed rest. Her eyes lingered on your fatigued figure as her fingers keep poking and prodding at the thin skin of her new scar, feeling something warm spark inside her.

Rogue!Valeria whose gang starts protecting you. Thieves know better than to try picking any of the locks on your doors, signs carved on the worn wood by her informing them that this place is off-limits.

Rogue!Valeria who sneaks through your backdoor, knowing you always forget to lock it, seeing you sleeping on another book, laid out under your arms. She wraps you in a soft blanket, pressing her finger against her lips when she sees awake patients or assistants eyeing you two.

Rogue!Valeria who leaves the flowers she picked from the gardens of her rich targets on your windowsill, petals ruffled and worn, former beauty still recognizable. Instead of putting those flowers in the water you dry and preserve every single one of them, with time gathering small bouquets that greet you each morning around your clinic. When she visits “officially”, she asks about them and you just say that you have no idea who leaves the flowers, mischief tugging at the corners of your eyes. Valeria only grins in response. “Is that so? You must have a lot of suitors then.”

Rogue!Valeria who always leaves some of her things behind just to have an excuse to visit you again, to see you at work, to hear your laughter, and to feel your hand shake her own in a warm greeting. Each time she gets bolder, and instead of a small satchel or a dagger, you start finding her jewelry and accessories. When did she have the chance to take them off anyway?

Rogue!Valeria who drags you to the market during fairs, insisting that you need to have some fun once in a while, as she leads you between a variety of stalls, her heart squeezing harshly against her ribs each time your fingers tighten around her hand.

Rogue!Valeria who ends up hiding with you in a narrow alleyway, hiding from the city guard that patrolled the festival grounds. She looks you in the eyes, trying to make sure you’re okay, and shoots you a sly wink, caging you between her body and the wall. She feels her breathing get quicker with each second spent like this, but you two are soon taken out of it when small sparks of fire shoot out of your fingers. Too agitated to control your magic, you get flustered, not sure why you were getting nervous in the first place. But when you hear Valeria let out a hearty laugh from your sudden supernatural outburst, everything starts to make sense.

Rogue!Valeria who never mutters a single word about her quickly developing feelings. It would complicate things. It would spoil your friendship. It would tie her down, it would cause her to become slow and eventually sink, taking you with her. Yet she couldn’t let you go. Not when her heart ached with such sweet foretaste each time she saw you running to her with your arms open. Not when her thoughts inevitably drifted to you each time she was preparing to raid another lazy lord’s manor. Not when her days already started to center around visits to your small clinic, during which you constantly looked at her with that contagious light in your eyes.

taglist - @mockerycrow @stridersdiner

check out my masterlist for more fics or send me a request!

#cod mw2 #cod mwii #valeria mw2 #valeria garza x reader #cod #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #mw2 x reader #cod mw2 x reader

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highwayphantoms · 2 months ago

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Happy Friday! How about 'It's not the worst injury I've ever seen, but it's pretty bad.' from your patching up wounds list for your Tabris?

Thank you for the prompt! Here's a short little thing set during Awakening! For @dadrunkwriting

Words: 648 Warnings: Mentions of injury

“Well,” Anders said brightly, “it’s not the worst injury I’ve ever seen.”

For a moment, she stared at him, the vicious gash in her leg temporarily forgotten. “What, exactly, did you get up to in that Circle?”

“But it’s pretty bad,” he added, ignoring her comment entirely. With all the gravitas of a child poking at a bug with a stick, Anders resumed examining her leg. After what seemed like an eternity, he said, “If we weren’t ass-deep in the Blackmarsh right now, I’d heal it properly, but…”

“I don’t care if it scars,” she said flatly. “Just make it so that I don’t bleed to death while we finish what we came out here to do.”

Anders frowned at her. “I mean, I can stitch it up, but if you’re not careful, you’ll just rip it back open.”

She sighed, exasperated. “I am not a child, Anders.”

He immediately lifted his hands in what she knew was meant to be a placating gesture. “I wasn’t trying to imply that you are! I just—”

“The sooner Tabris can walk again, the sooner we can move on,” Nathaniel said evenly from where he stood watch a good dozen paces away from the two of them. The Blackmarsh had been quiet so far, quieter than their last trip to the allegedly haunted swamp, but none of them were foolish enough to let that lure them into complacency.

She had wanted to hate him, at first. She’d intended to conscript him into the Wardens on the off chance that she might be able to turn him into a useful tool, only to realize that the two of them shared more in common than she would have ever guessed. He was still a shem, still born into nobility, but… oddly, she rather liked him.

“There’s technically nothing stopping her from walking right now,” Anders muttered, even as he started digging through his rucksack. After a bit, he pulled out the tools of the healer’s trade, and Tabris pointedly looked anywhere but at the grisly sight of her leg.

Blood? Absolutely fine. Grotesque injuries, sure. Darkspawn? Ugh, fine. But watching someone put a needle through her skin—that was just about the only thing she couldn’t stomach.

At least when a mage healer did it, it didn’t hurt so much.

“Nathaniel,” she called, very firmly insisting to herself that she was not using him solely for a distraction. “How far are we from the camp, do you think?”

If he recognized her question for what it really was, he blessedly kept it to himself. “Two miles, I think. Maybe two and a half,” he replied, turning halfway so that he could see her while still keeping an eye out for trouble. “Think Velanna’s getting lonely without us there to keep her company?”

Tabris snorted. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

“Done,” Anders said suddenly, and far sooner than she would have thought. Tabris glanced at him—a brief smile flickered across his face in response—then at her injured leg. Not only was he done, the jagged gash in her leg neatly stitched back together, but the flesh around it wasn’t even the slightest bit red and angry. “I gave it a little boost,” he explained as she looked back to him. “Enough that it’ll heal a bit faster than it would’ve otherwise.”

She offered him a fleeting smile of her own. “You do good work. Thank you.”

“Eh, it’s what I’m here for, isn’t it? Healing, and occasionally dropping a fireball on darkspawn?”

“You forgot to include the part where you never stop talking,” Nathaniel remarked.

Tabris snorted. “Don’t tell me he talks in his sleep, too.”

“You are both terrible, and I hate you,” Anders said, as petulant as ever but with none of the anger that his words might have implied. “Come on, I thought we had a missing Warden to find.”

#jay writes #dragon age #da fic #rhiannon tabris

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fe-fictions · 10 months ago

Note

Could you please revive the bath tent prompt with henry

(Bath tent prompt is back!!! And with Mr. Henry Crowman no less! ; U ; )

When Henry heard the shriek erupt from the other end of camp, he was initially delighted. That was a classic scream of terror.

While it was indeed music to his ears, he had a feeling that if it was happening inside of camp, it probably wasn’t a good thing. An assassination attempt, maybe? Or a Risen had infiltrated and bit off someone’s hands?

The possibilities were endless! He started to trot towards the sound, giggling to himself as he heard more crashing and shouting of expletives.

Hmm…maybe not fear, but anger. Then he came closer, and saw a soap dish fly out of the bath tent. The women’s bath tent. …The place you had just said you’d be about 10 minutes ago. And Chrom…was…running out of the tent…?

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOUT!!!”

“R-right! Absolutely! Straightaway! I'll, er, wait outside the tent-!”

That was definitely not just a shriek. That was his wife bellowing at the Exalt of Ylisse. And not only that, but he was barely able to dodge half the objects you were throwing at him.

Henry wasn’t sure what exactly he was watching, but as he slowed his gait to a very deliberate walk, the pieces started falling into place.

Not long after Chrom had stumbled out of the ten, grasping his head where a glass dish had struck him, you stormed out. Your hair was sopping wet, and you had thrown your coat over a towel.

The blood drained from Henry’s face.

“All right, you! What sort of idiot blunders straight into the women's bathing tent?!”

“I'm sorry! Very, very sorry! I misheard you, I swear it. I had no intention of peeping!!”

Both your faces were beet red, and while yours was screwed up in anger, Chrom’s was pure embarrassment. Though, that would very quickly shift when his vision suddenly went dark, covered by a swathe of black magic that surrounded him.

“What the hells-?!”

“Peeping, Lord Chrom?” Henry’s cheery lilt seemed particularly threatening when he appeared in front of Chrom, said royal now restrained by tendrils of dark vapors. “Is that some sort of fun game for you noble types? I’d love to hear what you think!”

“H-Henry, wait, that’s not what-!!”

“You shouldn’t peep on girls, ‘Your Majesty’! You’re no Vaike, you know? It looks real bad on you! Especially when it’s somebody who’s already married! That’s just a recipe for disaster, isn’t it? Nya ha!”

The signature smile that most had already found disconcerting had become something much angrier…much more twisted.

That alone was enough to shoot fear into the hearts of the crowd which was gathering.

“Henry!” Frederick’s voice burst out from the surrounding Shepherds, his lance pointed towards the mage. “Release the Exalt at once!”

“I dunno, I mean, he did something unforgiveable to my Robin, Lieutenant! What would you do if you were in the same situation?”

“I’m afraid we’re all still trying to figure out what the 'situation' is.” Frederick’s response was terse as he stepped closer, “Now, release Lord Chrom. I will not repeat myself.”

“Come on, it's not even hurting him, honest! I’m just keepin' him in place to make sure he doesn’t try to do anything else to my wife! Is that really so bad?”

Frederick started towards him with very clear intent to separate the two. But before he got close enough, you had your hand on his wrist, disrupting the spell with a tug.

“Henry, it’s not what you think it is. Chrom didn’t mean to walk in on me-” You spoke through gritted teeth, and there was a flash of fear in your eyes that Henry wasn’t sure what to think of it. “Please stop.”

“But Robin-”

“Please.”

Henry’s spell slowly dissipated, though his expression remained that of confusion (and of course the anger that had yet to fade).

You nodded to Frederick, a number of Shepherds staring at the four of you, tense at the prospect of what might come next.

Henry’s expression was unreadable, as if mulling over how he wanted to petrify everyone, next. You searched for some understanding, squeezing his wrist tighter.

Eventually, though, the strange look on his face gave way to a smile.

“Of course, whatever you wish!! I wouldn’t dare do anything you didn’t ask me to do. Please lead the way, my love!”

The smile persisted as you led him to your shared tent, and it did not waver even as he flicked his wrist and charmed the tent so that it would not open until Henry decided it could.

“You should cast a muffling spell, too.” You sighed sharply, finally releasing his other hand so you could undo your coat.

“Oh? Will we be raising our voices?” He questioned coolly, casting as you requested. You tossed the robe to him without looking, slipping the towel off your body.

Henry could never not enjoy the sight of his naked beloved, as he was sure you felt the same. Though, the very idea that Chrom might have seen something so precious and intimate did make him feel strange.

Deeply irritated; a little violent, maybe.

“I’m just trying to understand why in the hells you would lay a hand on Chrom!” You huffed out, moving further away from him to rummage your trunk in search of some clothes.

“Wasn’t he the one who walked in on you in the bath tent? I heard you say it!”

“I did- and he did- but that’s not a reason for you to assault a prince!”

“You were throwing things at him!”

“That’s different!” You stared a t him in disbelief, “I was the one he walked in on- and I was trying to get him out of the damn place without being humiliated by my best friend!”

“But that didn’t work, did it? So why are you upset at me for trying to help?”

Henry sounded like he was bordering on pouting, but you could very clearly see the rigid outline of his shoulders. He was very upset about what he saw.

“All I did was stick him in a binding hex. It’s not like I tried to turn his insides out, nya ha!”

“Henry, it was bad enough to have Chrom stumble into the bath tent in the first place- but when you came in and put him in a trap like that, it turned into a huge commotion! Now it’s not just Chrom who saw me in a compromised position, it’s practically the whole of the Shepherds!”

“They were already on their way over when you started shouting and throwing stuff at him! Which was the right thing to do, by the way. I would’ve been throwing spells though…much more effective.”

Henry’s humor seemed a bit more terse than it usually would be. And you weren’t sure what to think of the dark shadow clouding his face the longer he spoke of it.

“But it couldn’t have been any worse than if you hadn’t escalated- Frederick was ready to skewer you!”

“Come on, I don’t care what he wanted to do to me- I’m more worried about what Chrom did to you!!” Henry protested, “I hate that someone walked in on you! You didn’t deserve that, and it’s my job to make sure that kind of thing doesn’t happen to you! I mean, what would you think if somebody walked in on me, huh? You’d be real upset!”

Your eyes softened some, realizing that Henry needed a little bit more clarification and reassurance than you were currently giving.

He was upset, indeed. And he was right. Just the thought of the same thing happening to Henry formed an angry knot in your stomach.

“You’re right. I wouldn’t like it, at all.”

“Then you understand!”

“I do, I just…look, Henry, I’m not mad at you for trying to help. I just think that the way you were trying to help was a little bit over the top. Somewhere around ‘committing acts of treason and terror’, is where I'd draw the line.”

“To be fair, I’m not Ylissean. Dishonouring a woman and bringing shame upon her is punishable by death in Plegia!”

“Huh…that’s good to know. But maybe not applicable while on Ylissean soil.” You reminded him gently, pulling a clean tunic over your head.

“But Robin, he was in the bathing tent- he saw you naked!! I mean, I don’t mind a funny prank now and then, but there’s nothing funny about someone walking in on you."

Henry crossed the distance between you, starting to work on buttoning up your tunic while you forced wet arms through cotton sleeves.

“So what would you have me do? Stand by and let someone leer at you in the bath because they’re royalty?”

“No, of course not. But maybe somewhere in between?”

“In between letting you be harassed and hexing someone?”

“Yes. That’s a fair balance, right?” You looked up at him cautiously, curling your fingers into his tunic. Henry tilted his head, mulling over the option.

“Y’know, I guess that does leave me a lot of opportunities to work with, doesn’t it!” He grinned, which was a relief aside from the realization that he was correct; there was a lot of opportunity between doing nothing and doing too much.

“Um…maybe we should workshop it a little bit first.” You said, “I have a feeling you’re gonna need a list of what you should and shouldn’t do.”

“Hey, when it comes to protecting you, there aren’t many things off the table.” Henry pouted, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you close. “I might joke around a lot, but I mean it. You’re the only person in this whole wide world I don’t want anything bad to happen to.”

“That’s sweet…but we both know that’s mainly because you want the bad things to happen to yourself.” You reminded him with a soft sigh, a tired smile on your lips.

He was your eccentric darling. Henry just giggled, peppering your face with kisses.

“Gosh, you just know me so well, don’t you?” He sighed dreamily, nuzzling into your hair. “Well…I’m glad you’re okay. But I’m going to make sure that you’re not gonna have anything like this ever happen to you again. I love you too much to let creepy weirdos take advantage of you!”

“Chrom doesn’t really count as a creepy weirdo, does he?” You pulled back, searching his face for whatever plot he was thinking of putting together.

“Maybe if he hadn’t walked in on you taking a bath, he wouldn’t…but that’s okay! We’ll find out sooner or later what I think of him, won’t we?”

“Henry…”

“I’m just kiddin’ around, nya ha! Have a little faith in your husband, hmm?” He purred, that irresistible smile returning. You relaxed some, wrapping your arms around him tight and pressing your face to his neck.

You felt his pulse quicken as he chuckled, always happy to be loved by his wife.

“Thank you for protecting me, Henry. I’m so happy you’re by my side…even in circumstances like this. It’s comforting to know that you’re the one who’s got my back.”

“Of course, love. You’re my one and only! ‘Til death do us part.”

“Extra bloody and all.”

“Yeah, hahaha!” He laughed, sweeping you off your feet and spinning you about with a delightful joy that washed away the argument before.

You trusted that Henry would behave himself, even going so far as to join you in apologizing to Chrom for the debacle (and said Exalt of course was the sorriest, all but begging your forgiveness for his foolishness).

It wwas water under the bridge, and Hwenry’s smile seemed to enforce that.

Of course, it didn't stop a strange murder of crows from swarming the prince’s tent every few days…for the next month or so.

Henry did claim ignorance to this bizarre occurrence, but there weren’t many people you knew who could command a swathe of birds like he could…

Ah, well. So long as it kept Chrom from making any further silly mistakes, it wasn’t a terrible prank to get him back…

#henry #robin #fe 13 #fire emblem awakening #fe: awakening #fe awakening #henry x robin #f!robin #fem!robin #f!mu #hurt and comfort #bath tent prompt #poor chrom barely escaping death #but henry is a good boy who loves u very much #never forget ; A ;

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battlinghurricanes · 4 months ago

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I swear to god I'm gonna finish this Laxeel fic I'm working on, and hopefully soon. I'm committed to this one, I need to actually complete a project for my sanity, also I'm cooking with this one tbh. It's very fun to write. I'm posting a couple snippets for motivation.

The premise follows my ideas about Laxus's expulsion from Fairy Tail coinciding with Gajeel's infiltration of Raven Tail

---

It kind of stings in an illogical way, to hear someone take his side after it’s too late. Or at least claim to.

“...Is that what you think?” Laxus reproaches, then continues before Gajeel can respond, “You did the same shit. I heard you when you said of course I would be a monster since I’ve got the master’s blood in me. I- remember that.”

It gives him at least a grain of satisfaction to see Gajeel wince a little. “Ah, true, I’ll give you that one. Sorry. Tacky, in retrospect, and also dumb. I was under the impression you were using the same type of magic he has. I didn’t know then that you’re a dragon slayer.”

Great. “Oh, thanks. Like that’s so much much better.” So he only changed his mind when he found out he and a different kind of magic, one he got in an even more artificial and undeserved way than inheritance. “I’ve got loads to be proud of there.”

A crooked frown tugs on Gajeel’s lips. “Your words, not mine. I’m not gonna pretend I know your whole story, that’s why I said it’s not my place to give my two cents. Take it however you want, all I mean is that I know dragon slayer magic. Adapting to it without a dragon to teach you, enough to wield it that well? That’s no mean feat- and I know no one else could’a done it for you. So yeah, that’s when your own strength hit me. And impressed me.”

A jagged, reedy peel of laughter breaks from Laxus, the sound rolling carelessly as he stretches back against all the tension in his spine, against the urge to tear at his scalp. “Motherfucker. Fuck that. Gh- Fuck that shit.” Lids closing, he lolls his head. “I was tryin’ to prove my strength to everyone and grow outta his shadow, and in the end, the only one who recognized my power as my own was one of the ones who fucking beat me anyway! What a fucking joke.” His throat aches.

---

“Cut the bullshit.” Gajeel blinks and tries to get the two Laxuses swimming across his vision to merge back into one. “You’re following me.”

“Gh... I’m not.” Laxus glares at his assertion and opens his mouth. “-But someone is.”

That makes him stop and hone the full weight of his attention in on him. If he were any worse at this, Gajeel would have let loose a taut breath from the feeling, but he’s good, and he knows that near truths make for excellent lies when he can afford them. With Laxus, he decides he can. “You’re strong, you’re known for it, and now you’re an independent mage. That garners attention.” He can see the unquestioning comprehension reflected in Laxus’s eyes, and he would bet his ass that several legal guilds have already tried scouting him, proving that point.

“Some people have been tailing ya, and I happen to be on a job to bring those same people to heel, get it? Honest, I’ve got no interest in breathing down your neck- you shouldn’t have to deal with anyone doing that. I know it’d drive me mad. But because I’m tracking them, it means I’m also all but tracking you half the time.”

Laxus rumbles quietly, “Who are they?”

“Can’t tell ya. It would compromise the person I’m trying to help if I talk about our agreement,” he fibs lightly, silently thanking the master for finally giving a run down of official contract stipulations and enforcement the other week. “Especially to a non guild member.”

Laxus huffs, the line of his scar skewing over his expression. Gajeel offers, “If they could put you in danger, I promise I’ll tell you anyway,” and it’s not a lie. “But as is, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

With a wary shift of his head, Laxus frowns, then he gestures at Gajeel’s bruised, half-bandaged ribs. “Is that so? Because I would think anyone who can do this to you has already proven themselves as dangerous. I’d rather know who I might end up dealing with.”

Gajeel doesn’t respond for a beat, too shocked by Laxus’s open acknowledgement of his strength. “O-oh.”

UPDATE: here's the fic

#fairy tail #laxus dreyar #gajeel redfox #laxeel #my writing #wip #thisll be a banger #i love writing laxus #the way canon goes Out of its way to call him out for being really awkward at interacting w ppl #obsessed he just like me fr

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starlit-scrolls · 3 months ago

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The beginning

I am officially obsessed with Lucanis, so here is a random Meandering fic with some Back story of my Warden Rook and some start of long slow burning pining

Lucanis headed across the courtyard to the dining room and kitchen. Mia had told him to look around and find a place that made him comfortable. She was not sure how the lighthouse worked but it seemed to make a place for each of them, and she had hoped it would do the same thing for new members.

Harding and Neve had just joined her inside the main area, “so how is the new recruit?” Never sat on the couch next to Rook.

“Rook has a crush” Bellara giggled out

“What? No. I.. fine, he is handsome and seems brave and I had a surprising reaction to seeing him but I wouldn’t say crush’

Harding raised an eyebrow at her while Neve chuckled. “Sounds like a crush to me”

Rook sighed “ It does not matter, because he is not going to like me, and we have way more important things to worry about then if the demon possessed assassin is hot.”

“Wait” Hardings smile dropped “did you say demon possessed?”

“The stories of the mage killer did not mention he was also a mage?” Neve looked annoyed she has missed something

“He’s not” Bellara answered

“Right,” Rook leaned forward, “ the Venatori did something to force the demon into him. They were doing it to others, and they would turn and with the blood the Venitori kept of the victims they could bind the demons to their will. But Lucanis didn’t turn, him and the demon I guess made some sort of deal. He has not been overly forthcoming with details of what he went through down there”

Harding was not hiding her concern from her face “But is he dangerous?”

“He is definitely dangerous, but not because of the demon, and I don’t think he’s a danger to us. Bellara, you know that sense when someone is about to turn, the rush of the fade breaking down, I never felt that around him”

“I didn’t either”

“I’ll trust you to on this for now, but I would like to talk to him myself”

Rook looked over at Never, effortlessly beautiful and elegant and felt a pain of jealousy at her beauty then guilt for even thinking it. None of it really mattered “It would be weird if you didn’t talk to him since he is on the team. Now I need a bath and th get this Venatori blood off my armor

“I’m with Rook, I need to clean up, and maybe nap” Bellara stood with Rook and with a nod the two walked off to clean up.

Harding and Neve sat for a bit each processing the new information.

“Hey,” Harding looked up. “Did you hear the part where she said he wouldn’t like her anyway?”

Neve smiled “yes, never imagined Rook lacking confidence.”

“Guess we found he weak point, romance” Harding chuckled, I do remember Varric asking her about it once, she stated she was fairly inexperienced”

“Well once we have a chance to confirm this demon of Vyrantium is not dangerous to us, we can help her through it.”

It was late, and Rooks stomach was growling; she had never truly adjusted to how much she needed to eat as a warden. She was also looking for an excuse to go talk to Lucanis, she wanted to give him time to settle in, but also he fascinated her and her draw to him was confusing and thrilling, She was mildly surprised to see Bellara and Never sitting there, talking to Lucanis as he starting to the fire.

“What are we talking about?”

“Spite, the Demon inside me and how to get rid of it”

“I’ve heard of killing the Demon in the fade can get rid of it” Never leaned forward “but it doesn’t always work”

“It’s hard, and dangerous, the Demon is at its most powerful in fade, I almost died last time I did it”

The three of them all looked at her “What? Yes I’ve done it before, and it almost killed me and the person I released was still too damaged. I was able to heal them physically, but their mind was broken”

Bellara looked down at her hands “There is another way”

“You would have to kill me” Lucanis was looking right at her, like he was looking to see what she would see

“That can not be the only way, You have a different relationship here, can we not reason with Spite”

“Talk doesn’t work on spite”

Lucanis suddenly jerked his head, his eyes closed then suddenly his nose started to bleed

“Lucanis” They all jumped up

“No, No, I am fine” His hand up

His now was forceful enough, But she wanted so desperately to help him “He hurt you? Why?”

“He is throwing a tantrum because he did not get his way”

“He’s done this before, you should not be used to it”

“It’s ok, once you all leave he will calm down”

“Are you sure you should be alone right now?” she thought she saw a hint of a smile

“I will be ok Rook”

The others started to leave, but Rook could not help but turn back “I’m not sure how much you got to look around, but there is some bread and cheese, I need to get more supplies, but also a tea mix, it was my mother special blend, it works wonders on headaches”

The next morning, Rook walked to the dining hall in hope of finding something for breakfast. It looked as though someone had made a porridge and there was some Jam left to put in it. Bellara was sitting at the table, absentmindedly stirring her food. Lucans stood with pen and paper going through all the cabinets occasionally grumbling under his breath and writing things down.

“Good morning” Mia filled her bowl and went and sat next to Bellara

“Good Morning Rook” Lucanis did not look up from his list “you were not kidding about needing supplies”

“I found a good amount of gold in Calivans office. We can use it to bulk up.”

Bellara looked up “I was hoping you would get yourself those boots you like so much in Dock Town.”

“I don’t need new boots, we do need food, besides if we use the money to get food, I still have the rest in case one of you needs something important.”

“Like that frog sculpture you bought me?”

“Yes” Rook smiled at her. “You deserve something nice to make the lighthouse feel more like home”

“And you deserve boots that don’t look like the stains are holding them together.”

Rook rolled her eyes. “They keep my toes warm and dry, they achieve all I need of them. They are just well broken in.”

Bellara snorted and didn’t say any more on the subject and went back to staring at her food.

Lucanis placed a cup of tea on the table for Rook.

“Oh, thank you.” She smiled up at him. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to. Try think of anything else you want, I can add it and the next time we get to Treviso I will get us all restocked”

“That’s really sweet Lucanis, I think we should be able to go soon, I just have to check in with everyone else”

He nodded and went back to scourging the kitchen.

“Bellara” Rook looked over at her “whats on your mind, You are clearly distracted and it can not just be about my very good boots”

She heard Lucanis snort behind her

“It’s, I don’t…. You know, don't worry about it. I shouldn’t question you”

“You should definitely question me, especially if something I’ve done has upset you this much.”

“It’s Julian, They Mayor if DeMetas Crossing, You let him go, after everything he did”

“I sent him to the Wardens, not let him go”

“But he should have just died, right there with everyone else whose death he caused.”

Rook took a moment “I can see how that would seem like justice, but my thought was that if he survives the joining, which many don’t, he will have to spend his life now staring down the same horror he brought to those people, he will travel Thedas killing darkspawn walking through stinking pits of despair, while that same blight sings in his blood. And if he survives all of that, he will still die to blight, it will take him in the end, but maybe he will have done some good.”

Bellara was still frowning “but why would the Wardens even want such a greedy cowardly person”

Rook sipped at her tea, brewed perfectly, Lucanis was already a great addition for this alone “Wardens are not picky. It is not an easy life and many would not just choose it especially if there is not a current blight to drive them. Many wardens join as a way to get out of life in prison or even the noose.

“Is, is that how you joined?”

Rook thought she heard Lucanis chuckle

She smiled at Bellara “have you not heard of the murderous Dalish mage, terrorizing the countryside, saved from templar steel by joining the wardens?”

“No” Bellaras eyes widened as she looked at Rook, “I, wait” she noticed Rook trying to not laugh “You kidding”

“I am”

Lucanis was laughing but as well “I’ve only known Rook a few days and could tell you she would not hurt an innocent person”

Rook felt a slight blush, and saw Bellara watching her. She had already told everyone else about Rooks reaction to Lucanis, calling it a crush and making fun of her for it.

“I asked to join. My clan was attacked by darkspawn. We had managed to hold them back but we were backed up against a steep cliff. It allowed us to create a central entry point for the Darkspawn, but they outnumbered us and we were losing people so fast, then with no warning, Wardnes showed up. They saved my Clan.”

“Oh, wow, and you didn’t want to stay with your clan after all that?

“It wasn’t an easy choice, but I was the fourth mage so I had known from a young age that I would have to leave and at least join another clan. My dad had died some time before and my mom and sister were both killed in the attack. I was angry and heartbroken. I saw the wardens as a way to protect others, to stop something like that from happening to anyone else. I was not ready or fully aware of what I was getting myself into. The wardens warned me as much, but also did not turn me away, said mages, especially a spirit healer like myself are always needed and they could teach me to fight.”

“Do you ever regret it?”

Rook sighed “no, I miss them all, especially after meeting your and the Veil jumpers. It had been a long time since I was around other Dalish. It opened some old wounds. And you remind me of Ellie. Smart, curious, and filled with so much light. She would have loved the veil jumpers and seeing Arlathan. But I.. at least I hope, I make their memory proud, that maybe I’ve helped some people and done some good.”

“Oh, Rook.”

“Rook,” Neve walked in, fully dressed for the day “Viper reached out, he wants to speak with you. Can you get to Minrathous today?”

“Yeah, let me change, and we can go, Lucanis why don’t you give me the list, I can also get the items on it”

He pulled it to his chest. “I will get these things myself in Treviso. I am not sure after what I’ve seen here I can trust you with the shopping”

“Rude”

Bellara laughed “Rook is a good cook, though I think some of her food is too spicy”

“Let the assassin have his way. I’ll just pick up dinner tonight, and maybe some snacks and I promise we will get to Treviso soon”

“You can also get those boots” Bellara chimed in.

“Bellara” Rook shook her head. “Disparage my boots all you want, if I don’t need them I'm not spending money on them” She rinsed out her bowl and cup, trying to hide how being this close to Lucanis made her heart race. She really did not know what to do about how he affected her.

She gave a nod to Lucanis and left to get get her armor on

“She really does need new boots” Bellara sighed

“If you can get her size, I know the best cobbler in Treviso”

“That would be amazing, and she thinks you don’t like her”

“Why would I not like her, she saved me from the Ossuary? And has been very kind to me”

Bellara blushed “not like that, I mean you know what. It’s nothing. I misspoke and I have things that need to get done, correspondence to the veil jumpers and Nadas Dirthalen will not fix itself.”

Bellara jumped up leaving her bowl behind uneaten

Lucanis cleaned up for her wondering, not for the first time in the past few days, what exactly he was signed up for.

#dragon age the veilguard #lucanis dellamorte #lucanis x rook #starlight writes #slow burn #pining #warden rook

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midnightswaltz · 16 days ago

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Another Scene I Need Out of My Head But Probably Won't Go Anywhere Soon

The purple streak came to a stop. Wings. The purple had been black and purple wings attached to a haggard man. He stared for several seconds at the bodies at his feet before spinning to face Rook & her team.

Dark brown, almost black, eyes stared out of an emaciated face. A filthy wild beard covering the lower half. The hair on the top in roughly the same abysmal shape. The only clothing he wore were a pair of threadbare pants that gave off a powerful oder. His back was covered in telltale hash marks of uncountable lashings. When he turned, his front revealed more scars. No, not so much scars & more someone had carved runes into his chest. It was difficult to tell, but they looked incomplete from Ivy’s limited knowledge.

The prisoner just stared at them for a few moments, his eyes narrowed, body crouched & ready for attack.

Rook sheathed her dagger & slowly raised her empty hands. “We’re not here to fight you…I-I don’t think…” If the wings hadn’t given it away the faint buzzing of a spirit did. This man was an abomination, but he at least didn’t seem inclined to attack them at the moment. “We’re just looking for someone.”

The man - abomination? Demon? - stared for one more second, before nodding & relaxing his stance. He blew out a breath & ran his hand through his matted hair, pulling the scraggly strands away from his eyes. That was when Rook noticed them. Three little spots above his right eye. Her jaw dropped. ”Wait - Lucanis Dellamorte?”

It couldn’t be. Lucanis Dellamorte was not a mage. Someone would have mentioned it. Right? Only mages could become possessed. Right?

“Who’re you? Who sent you?” he rasped.

“That’s Antivan, right?” Bellara looked to Rook.

Rook nodded & pointed to herself. “I'm Rook.” Then to the others. “These two are Bellara & Neve. We’re here to get you home.” Before her exile, her accent had been almost perfect but after two years away, she sounded like a damn tourist. Great, Viago needed something else to get onto her about. “You remember how to speak Trader?” She was pretty sure he had before but after being held by Venatori for a year, now carrying a demon somehow, how much of Lucanis Dellamorte was still in there?

He blinked again, working his throat. Oh. Oh, dammit, of course. Rook pulled off her canteen, handing it to him, refusing to flinch as he reached for it. He took a few sips, then tipped the bottle back. “Thank you,” he said in Trader. This time when he looked the three of them over, his expression was clearer. “You’re here for me?”

“Yeah, I’m House De Riva, Catarina sent us-“

“House De Riva? You’re a Crow?” He could not keep the disbelief from his voice.

“I am…was…am…,” she sighed. “It’s a long story. Better told away from this place.” She turned to leave, Lucanis grabbed her arm to stop her. Neve raised her staff, but he had already released her. If he had noticed the other woman’s reaction, he didn’t give it away.

“Wait.” Lucanis turned from Rook & started searching through the Venatori bodies. He stripped what she guessed was the cleanest pair of pants he found & just began changing in front of them. Bellara immediately turned her back. Rook snorted. If Lucanis didn’t care if they saw his naked ass, she didn’t. This was the least sexually charged moment she’d ever experienced in her life. & considering how rarely actual sex happened for her, that was saying something. Neve hadn’t turned either, but she was not leering, she was scowling. “I can’t leave yet.”

He had pants on again. Rook swatted Bellara’s arm, she turned back around with a little, “oh.”

“What? Why not?” Rook asked.

“Rook…” Neve interrupted as Lucanis picked up another Venatori knife forgoing any of their shirts or capes. Given that most of them had knife holes & blood stains, she didn’t blame him. Neve’s voice was wary. Maybe it wasn’t a great idea to let an abomination loose on Treviso. But aside from the wings & the lightning sensation on her skin, nothing about this man screamed anything other than he was a skilled assassin who had spent a year being tortured by Venatori.

Still… ”Yeah, Neve, I know, I see it.”

“See what?” He looked between them. ”Ah! You can see him? I wondered…”

“We’re mages,” Bellara offered. “We can’t see ‘him’, or I can’t,” she looked at Rook & Neve who shook their heads, “but there’s definitely this… uh… feeling.”

“No one mentioned you were a mage, too,” Neve said. Rook felt her eyes boring into her.

Rook gave her what she hoped was a “fuck if I know” shrug.

“I’m not,” Lucanis said.

“But only mages get possessed,” Bellara said.

“It’s complicated.” That, it seemed, was all he was going to say about that.

Neve looked him over, concern etched on her face. “The First Talon promised us a mage-killer if we broke you out.”

“I can still work.”

“Clearly,” Rook glanced over the room full of dead Venatori. He was a Crow, who just took out eight Venatori on his own, unarmed, unarmored, and after a year of torture. “We’ve a boat waiting for our signal. Let’s go. Not… not that we’d leave you here if you couldn’t. This place is…a nightmare.” Oh, look, open mouth insert foot.

His expression darkened. “You have no idea.”

Right. Dammit, Ivy. “This way then.”

He growled. “Can’t. Not yet. They have my blood. You’re mages. You know what that means.”

“Right. Fuck. Of course they do.” It was probably the main way they had kept him under control for the better part of a year. She should have thought about that.

“And,” he continued, “I had a contract when I was captured. My target is here. Crows don’t break contracts.”

“Who is this target?”

“Calivan. He’s the warden here.”

“The warden? Sure, this is about your contract not revenge.”

He raised his chin, a smirk peeking out from the wild bush on his face. “I am a professional. The revenge is a bonus.”

#Scenes I Need Out of My Head But Probably Won't Go Anywhere Soon #this one's pretty long so it goes under a cut #I hope it's clear the italics are them speaking 'Antivan'#I would have done the standard fandom thing of writing it as Spanish but #while my Spanish is somewhat better than “hello” “please” & “thank you”#it's not *that* much better & I'm not confident with online translation #I don't know what her orientation is exactly #but I'm pretty sure Ivy's somewhere on the asexual spectrum #ivy de riva #lucanis dellamorte #veilguard fanfic #dragon age #veilguard #datv #my writing #I wrote a thing #it's 2am let's see if anyone sees this

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hawkeish · 3 months ago

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thank you to @another-rogue-trevelyan for tagging me!! I’m working on the fourth chapter of my rookanis fic and it’s kicking me up the arse, but here’s a very out-of-context snippet that will make absolutely no sense:

“No, no, no, no, no—”

“Calm down, kid. This your first bar fight?”

“Calm?” A shrill shriek of a laugh. “You want me to be calm? I can’t lose my position and—and Ingellvar—Rook—is she—oh, fuck, there are people in there who I set on fire—”

Retching.

“Ah, now this takes me back!” A warm chuckle. “Harding, did I ever tell you about the first time Daisy bottled someone—”

“Not sure this is the time!” someone—much more feminine—breaks in. Then, softer: “That’s right. Deep breaths. There you go—oh.” More retching, punctuated by half-sobs, then the thuds of pats on the back. “Well, better out than in, as my ma says! I can clean my boots later.”

Varric.

The word pulls at a loose yarn in the jumbled knots of Orrenrook’s rattled brain. She knows Varric. No. Knows of a Varric, maybe.

“Venatori weren’t in the plan.” A low murmur—the man. The voices are louder than they were, drowning out the sounds of vomiting.“Neither was a bar fight. Or a half-drunk mortalitasi who’s just violated one of his culture’s most venerated beliefs.”

Mortalitasi. Rook knows that word, too. She likes how it sounds. It makes her think home.

“Venatori should always be in the plan,” the woman replies, sighing. “And we should be more used to bar fights by now. Wherever you go, Kirkwall’s je ne sais quoi follows. Which always means blood magic. And bar fights.”

An exaggerated, tongue-cluck of a tut. “Labelling it Evil Mage City is one thing, Harding, but using Orlesian to describe it? You wound me. Speaking of wounds, we should maybe be more careful that our Watcher here doesn’t bleed out. Especially not here. Propping her up on the vhenadahl as she succumbs to head trauma inflicted by a racist Tevinter fanatic feels a little tone-deaf, Harding—”

Vhenadahl.

Whatever else is said, Orrenrook doesn’t hear it. Consciousness begins to slip from her grasp once more, unspooling like twine, and as she falls into darkness she is thinking of the vhenadahl, of standing beneath it with Porphyria in a cool Nevarran downpour, of how she will never feel the warmth of her not-quite-mother’s hand again.

tagging @canavaris , @rookinthecrownest, @katuary, @librivore42, @aymayzing and anyone else who fancies it! (if you want to be tagged by me for writing stuff, please lemme know!)

#imagine if my skill matched my ambition! what then!#wip whenever #ish writes #rook ingellvar #I haven’t written Varric in a very long time….I feel so rusty

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tabitha42 · 10 months ago

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The Wizard's Apprentice - Chapter 6

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

Gale x Tav, slow burn, eventual smut

Chapter 1 Previous chapter Next chapter

This time it wasn’t morning that woke her. She couldn’t say what exactly it was that had roused her from her sleep, but she opened her eyes to find a figure looming over her, leaning down, teeth bared…

She screamed and pushed him back, scrambling out of the tent.

“Shit,” Astarion muttered to himself, before running out of the tent after her.

Outside the others had heard the scream and were rushing out of their tents to see what was happening. Lae’zel already had a dagger in hand, ready to fight off whatever threat was here. Saff was at Gale’s tent, panicking as he checked her over and comforted her. As Astarion left the tent she looked over, and only then did she realise it had been him.

“Astarion…?” she gasped in disbelief. She’d thought it was someone who’d snuck into their camp, not one of their group.

Anger spread across Gale’s face, and he stepped in front of her protectively, glaring at Astarion.

“What in the Hells do you think you’re doing?!” he shouted, clenching his fists.

“I think we all know what he was doing…” Shadowheart growled accusingly, the implication in her words obvious, picking up her mace.

“NO! No, I swear, it wasn’t like that,” Astarion said quickly, holding his hands up defensively as the group became increasingly hostile.

“He’s right… it wasn’t like that.”

The group stopped and turned to Saff, who didn’t take her eyes off Astarion.

“He… he wasn’t trying to…” her words were quiet and stuttered as she looked at him. The image of him leaning down, mouth open, replayed in her mind as her hand subconsciously went to her neck where she’d felt the brief scrape of something sharp before pushing him away. “He was going to… bite me…”

“I knew it!” Wyll spat, drawing his rapier and pointing it at Astarion. The signs had all been there, he’d long suspected it, and this was all the proof he needed. “He’s a vampire!”

“But how can you be a vampire if you can walk in the sun?” Shadowheart asked. She’d suspected it before as well, of course she had. But his ability to walk in sunlight had made her discount that possibility.

“I… don’t know. Since I got this tadpole, things have changed. I can stand in the sun, walk into houses uninvited… but I still have this hunger,” he admitted, for once sounding genuinely remorseful. A flicker of sympathy flashed across Gale’s face.

“That doesn’t mean you can feed on us,” Lae’zel hissed, brandishing her blade.

“I usually don’t! I feed on animals, boar, deer, whatever I can find. But… I’m too slow right now. Too weak. I can’t feed only on animals, not if I need to fight.”

An uneasy quiet fell across them. They knew the truth - they needed him. He was the only one in the group with his skills, and if he couldn’t fight, he was a risk. Astarion could see this realisation on their faces, and left it a moment to sink in before continuing.

“If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better. Please,” he begged, surprisingly still sounding genuine.

The group looked at each other hesitantly.

“Ok,” came Saff’s voice, quiet and uncertain. Gale turned to her quickly.

“Saff, are you sure about this?” he asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.

She looked to Astarion, considering for a moment, then nodded and turned to the others.

“I’m sure. We’re all in this together, right? We’ve got to help each other. And it’s not his fault he’s a vampire. Well, I assume?” she asked, looking back at him.

“I certainly didn’t choose it, no,” he confirmed.

“There we go then. If we’re in this together, we have to help each other. And, I mean, it’s not gonna kill me, right?”

“No, of course not. It might make you feel a bit weak for a while, but you’ll be fine.”

“Then I’ll do it.”

For the first time, she saw Astarion genuinely smile.

“Ch’k, fine, if it makes him stronger then so be it, those staying at camp can feed him each night. But no more surprises. If I wake up with so much as a drop of blood on my neck, you will find a stake through your heart,” Lae’zel growled, pointedly looking to Astarion as she threatened him.

“You have my word,” he promised solemnly.

“Maybe we could get him to wear a bell - dissuade any nighttime prowling,” Shadowheart suggested with a smirk. A small chuckle rippled through the party. Astarion didn’t seem keen on the idea, though he was glad it relieved some of the tension as weapons were lowered.

“Very well, but I’m keeping my eye on you,” Wyll warned. “And no wisecracks about having us for supper.” “I wouldn’t dare,” he joked, joining in now with the more upbeat tone.

“Enough joking,” Lae’zel decreed. “We need rest for tomorrow. Feed on her Astarion and be done with it.”

Astarion nodded and looked towards Saff. She stepped forward, but Gale stopped her. “He can feed on me tonight,” he declared. A smirk came to Astarion’s lips.

“Oh can I? How kind of you,” he said, knowing exactly why Gale was offering. At least, he thought he knew…

“Let’s get comfortable, shall we?”

He grabbed a spare bedroll and spread it out on the ground. He looked back up at Gale and saw the uncertain look on his face.

“I’ll only take a bit,” he promised him. “You’d better.”

The others watched as Gale laid down on the bedroll, knowing this would likely be something they’d all also have to go through eventually. Saff found herself holding her breath as Astarion knelt over him, getting into position… then with a swift movement, sunk his teeth into Gale’s neck.

Then just as suddenly he ripped them out and stumbled backwards, coughing and spluttering. “Ugh! Your blood tastes like bile! What is wrong with you??” He gasped, spitting and wiping his mouth. The others watched in surprise as Gale sat up, holding his neck.

“Let that be a lesson to you not to bite someone in the night without their consent,” he said firmly, and suddenly the group realised - this was Gale’s way of getting back at Astarion for what he nearly did to Saff.

“I said I was sorry!” Astarion argued defensively.

“Actually, I don’t think you did,” Gale countered as he stood up. Astarion was about to speak, then paused as he ran through the conversation in his head.

“Ah… well, sorry,” he said to Saff. “Unfortunately for you it seems Gale’s off the menu.”

Saff looked to Gale in a mixture of concern and fear.

“What… is wrong with your blood?” she asked tentatively. The others waited, curious to hear the answer. He felt their eyes on him, but feared their reactions if he told them the whole truth of it all now.

“That’s a long story… one best kept for another time,” he said eventually. Saff nodded slowly, noting the sadness in his voice. She tried not to think about it too much as she turned to Astarion and walked towards the bedroll. Gale watched her sadly - as much as he’d enjoyed getting back at Astarion, he’d much rather have been able to spare Saff this fate.

Nervously she laid down on the bedroll and looked up at Astarion. Behind her she heard Gale speak.

“Remember, only a bit,” he warned Astarion.

“Of course,” he agreed as he knelt down over her. She closed her eyes, preparing herself for what was to come… then she felt it, like two shards of ice in her neck. She let out a gasp of pain and whimpered softly as she felt her strength draining. She trusted him to stop before he took too much, but slowly the edges of her vision started to go dark and her ears began to ring…

“S-stop…” she whispered, the word barely audible as it left her lips. She tried to push him away, but barely had the strength to lift her arm. She felt him lift her up, his hand behind her head, sucking hungrily, as she began to fall limp in his arms…

“Enough!”

Astarion suddenly put her down and pulled away as Gale shouted and came towards them. He barely even noticed how angry Gale was over the feeling of elation he was experiencing, and for a moment all he could do was stand there in awe with wide eyes as he felt strength unlike anything he’d ever experienced before.

Gale quickly knelt by Saff’s side and helped her sit up, supporting her in his arms. Wyll joined them with a rag to hold against her neck and a cup of water. Gale tried to offer the water to her as Wyll tended to her neck, but she was barely strong enough to even hold her head up.

“What happened to ‘just a bit’?!” he snapped at Astarion.

“Sorry, I… was just swept up in the moment,” he replied, which just made the others more angry with him.

“How do we know you won’t get ‘swept up in the moment’ in the future?” Shadowheart asked, starting to lose confidence in this plan of letting him feed on them.

“We shall have to always have someone watching,” Lae’zel decided, also not thrilled by this turn of events.

“It won’t happen again,” Astarion said quickly. “It’s just because I’ve never fed on a human before. It was… glorious,” his voice was almost a whisper, the effect on him clear to everyone in the camp.

“You’ve… never fed on a human before?” Wyll asked in disbelief.

“Not once. Always just animals. Rats, mostly.”

“How long have you been a vampire?”

“About… 200 years.”

A quiet fell over them.

“200 years of nothing but rats…” Wyll murmured, feeling a stab of sympathy for Astarion.

“Did it work…”

Saff’s voice was weak, only just loud enough for them to hear. Gale and Wyll looked to her as she slowly raised her head, looking up to Astarion, wanting to know if it had been worth it.

“It worked,” he confirmed with a smile. “I feel… good. Strong. Happy!”

“Good…” Saff whispered, managing a weak smile. Astarion’s smile faded slightly to a look of remorse.

“I’m… sorry about this. I got carried away. It won’t happen again,” he promised her, then looked round at the others. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find something more filling. I will see you all in the morning, bright and ready to take out some goblins,” he said with a slightly sadistic grin. With that he turned to leave, looking stronger, more confident, ready to hunt.

Lae’zel and Shadowheart watched him leave, still a bit wary of this whole arrangement, but decided they were content for now and headed back to their tents. Wyll and Gale stayed with Saff for now to make sure she was ok.

“Never expected to find myself teaming up with a vampire…” Wyll murmured.

“Never expected to find myself offering to get bitten by one,” Saff added with a weak chuckle. Wyll looked at them both.

“How does it feel?” he asked, directing the question at both of them.

“Awful,” they both answered in unison, to Wyll’s amusement.

“Something to look forward to, then,” he said, sighing slightly. “Anyway, I’d best get some rest. I’ll leave you in Gale’s capable hands,” he said to Saff, who couldn’t help but smile slightly at his phrasing. Gale nodded his thanks to Wyll for his help as he left, then turned his attention back to Saff.

“Let’s get you back to your tent,” he said, helping her to her feet. Somewhat wobbly and holding onto him for support she made her way back over, letting him gently lower her onto her bedroll once she was inside. He bought the cup of water, which she managed to drink some of, and placed it next to her as he sat down with her.

“How are you feeling?” he asked softly.

“Woozy. But I’m sure I’ll be fine in the morning,” she said, her voice weak, but an optimistic smile on her lips. “Gotta be ready for our lessons tomorrow, after all,” she added playfully. He chuckled at first, then gave her a stern look.

“You get all the rest you need. Lessons can wait if you’re not feeling up to it.”

“Can they?”

She looked at him as her words hung between them. They both knew the severity of their situation, and they both knew she was a liability if she couldn’t defend herself.

“We will see how you feel in the morning,” he settled on. “For now, get some rest.”

She smiled and nodded.

“See you tomorrow,” he said softly, putting his hand on her shoulder for a moment, holding her gaze… before finally standing up and leaving the tent.

She sighed deeply as she pulled a blanket over herself and closed her eyes. A vampire among them… as if things weren’t crazy enough. But she trusted Astarion now, and maybe this would be a good thing - vampires were powerful, after all. What actually worried her more was the question of Gale’s blood and what was wrong with it. Was it some sort of illness? Or curse?

She supposed there was no point in worrying about it now, but she hoped he’d tell them what it was sooner rather than later.

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

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