#resisting the urge to become a projectile in free fall

[romanticize-until-you-drop]

2023-12-20

Nothing — I repeat — nothing feels as good as filling up pages of paper with equations and diagrams, and getting the answer right.

[wing-ed-thing]

Castle (Might Guy x Reader, Part III)

Synopsis: Might Guy was always a man of certainty. He needed no time to decide that the moment he saw you, he was in love. Things become more complicated when he's suddenly assigned to an S class escort mission where he finds out that not only are you engaged to a ninja prince in the Hidden Stone, but you are the eldest princess of the daimyō.

Word Count: 1,231

Warnings: Canon-typical violence

Notes: Gif not mine

You were still reading poetry when dawn came. You felt the carriage stop. You looked over to Jun, who fell asleep hours ago. Guy gave a slight tap on the partition, before pulling it back. Light shone through into the darkness of the carriage.

“We’re stopping to water the horses.”

“What about the guards?” You inquired. Guy chuckled.

“We’ll be out here too. You’re perfectly safe if you want to stretch your legs before we start moving again.” You smiled to yourself. The carriage door opened and Aoba helped you down the step.

You took in the beauty of the landscape around you. Aoba tended to the horses. Raidō prepared a small amount of rations. A small river flowed by a natural orchard. All around you grew trees of all varieties. You went over to the ones that bore fruit, smelling the sweet scent of oranges and pears. You still gripped your book in one hand. Guy trailed behind you. He didn’t notice the view, only you.

“What have you been reading all this time, My Lady?”

“Poetry,” Guy leans down as you show him, flipping through the pages. “It was the last I managed to obtain from the royal library.”

“I’d like to hear it sometime.” He told you gently. Guy gazed at you. The sunlight fell between the cracks of the branches creating spotlights that existed only to shine on your face. From your robes to the foliage to Guy’s own heart pounding in his chest, he could have sworn that he had stumbled upon a goddess. He once again resisted the urge to attempt to weave the genjutsu release signs. Guy took a sharp inhale. “Now, I must ask what a princess like you was doing sneaking off to the market to talk to strange men.” You raised a playful brow.

“I would hardly call you a strange man.” Guy gave his signature, charming smile. His face came in close proximity to yours, the gap between slowly decreasing. “Do you think it would be rash to call what I felt when I saw you at the market love?” You drawled.

“Not rash at all.” You tucked your book into your robes and raised yourself onto your toes, looking over Guy’s shoulder. You lowered yourself knowing that you were alone.

“Do you feel the same? I fell for you quickly, but know that just because I loved you quickly, it doesn’t mean I’m naive.” You pouted slightly.

A hand over his jounin vest, smoothing out wrinkles and fiddling with latches. He took in each bat of your lashes.

“You? Naive? Never, my Lady.” Guy breathed. You placed a chaste kiss on his lips. You kissed him again, his hand settling on the small of your back. You pulled back and took in his warm features. Guy looked down. “A shinobi’s wife indeed.” More bitterness came through in Guy’s tone than he intended.

The mood shifted. You near crumbled to the tension, the reality, that hung in the air. A scowl made its way onto your lips.

“I have enough awareness that the daimyō’s circle knows nothing of the affairs of shinobi.” You stated bitterly. Guy felt you slip from his grasp. You traveled farther into the grove. He blinked in surprise at your statement while you hiked up your robes to reach a high hanging fruit. You stood balancing a branch about two feet from the ground at you stretched to reach your prize. Guy suddenly snapped out of his trance, rushing over to support you.

“My Lady!” You picked a pear only to have it ripped from your hand. It landed on the tree behind it, a kunai pinning it against the trunk. You stumbled down to ground and Guy positioned himself in front of you. Another set of kunai flew. Guy swiftly knocked the projectiles out of the air with his own shuriken. “Run back to the carriage!”

You heeded his words. Grabbing your long robes, you sprinted as best you could towards the carriage. Another kunai. You saw the tag on the end as it landed. You slipped as you tried to stop your momentum. The explosion shattered your ears. Fire splashed from the wooden vessel and you shielded your eyes from the shrapnel that flew out at you.

“Jun!” You cried.

The two other ninja were fighting off your ambushers as you approached the burning pile.  The two horses in front reared up in fright. You went to them, attempting to calm them. You fumbled with their straps as you tried to free them. You felt a hand on your shoulder. You jumped, looking behind you to see Jun. You felt the heat on your skin as the two of you released the horses, who ran off into the forest. Another kunai flew by your head. You shed robe your outer robes into the fire as you and Jun ducked out of the way of danger.

You turned to Jun, her eyes widened as she pulled you towards her.

“My lady!” She shrieked and you suddenly felt an arm wrapped around your waist. You cried out as you were ripped from her grasp lifted onto someone’s shoulder. You reached for Jun as you were swiftly carried away by the enemy ninja. The others in his team followed. You kicked, pounding on his back and watched helplessly as the orchards began to get smaller in your view. You tried to get away, but your right arm was pinned under you by your heavy robes.

One, two, three kunai lodged themselves in your kidnappers back causing him to fall. You took advantage of the distraction. You shed another layer of your robes and ran. You didn’t look back as your guards flash stepped past you. You caught Guy for a split second in the corner of your eye as he lunged forward.

And like that, you were safe again.

The three Leaf ninja returned when the enemy had been run off. You took to the wreckage to try to salvage your belongings. It took time, but you made due with the supplies that were left. The luggage had been pulled behind the cart with few casualties to the fire. Raidō managed to recover two wheels. With a few boards, the makeshift cart rolled well behind one of the only two horses that remained.

You moved on in search of a safe place to set up camp for the night. Guy helped you up onto his horse. You sat eloquently, gripping the horn of the saddle with your legs over one side. Guy stood on the ground, grasping the reins. Jun appeared in your side view, on the back of the other horse. Your grip on the horn tightened as Guy led you forward, but you soon assumed your balance.

The journey remained quiet save for the clunking of the makeshift cart. You assumed that everyone had been exhausted by the earlier attack. You, yourself, felt quite shaken, but this had to come with the territory of being engaged to a shinobi man.

You still had your book. Throughout all the excitement, your book stayed securely in your inner robes which were your outer robes now. You removed it from the wrappings and opening it, you began to read aloud. As Guy walked beside you, listening happily. You exchanged subtle and bashful glances, journeying on past the rubble.

Thank you to everyone who liked, reblogged, and followed. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

[becomestorm]

DRAGON FAUNUS HC COMPILATION.

previous compilation was written here over two years ago. these headcanons only apply to my specific interpretation of ren, if your muse deals with dragon faunus lore, you’re not obligated to acknowledge them. as another disclaimer, ren’s headcanoned faunus heritage, while is a large part of their portrayal, is not the most vital or a pinnacle element of it. it was something that i added because i thought that it would be interesting, but i want to make it clear that i never intend to detract from canonical or oc faunus muses’ struggles.

the initial reason i wanted to make ren a dragon faunus was because i wanted to somehow include mushu in my portrayal. there were other more complicated reasons i felt inclined to do it, including parts of a thesis i was working on at a time analysing the historical accuracies involving mulan’s confusian oriented belief system and it’s representations on the hun army in the disney movie, but none of them were as profound and simple as this post. the primary reason i choose to keep ren a dragon faunus is because it is heavily implied the spirit of the great stone dragon was imbued into mulan before joining the war.

ren’s faunus trait is a pair of ivory horns. a lot of mistrali based dragons have horns similar to antlers, and ren’s will eventually do that come professional huntsman verse, splinter into antlers i mean. when ren was a child, in an act of violence by faunus poachers, their horns were broken off. because their anatomy is a mixture of antler, soft bone, and keratin, ren’s horns would grow back in time, but it would take a long time especially since up until a year or two before beacon ren was filing them down in order to avoid being harassed. dragon horns, whether eastern or western styled, fetch a hefty price on the black market.

it’s a common thread of dragon faunus mythology that they descended from dragon shifters. of course, words were muddled up along the way, and there are many many variations of these myths. the magically protected remnants of the old world in the brother’s time left some supposed evidence that faunus, the new race, were the descendants of the depicted brother gods who often were portrayed in their bestial forms : dragons. just like the stories of the maidens were lost to time, so too were the remains and beliefs in the brother gods. but one superstition still remains among dragon faunus society, and it is that western dragon faunus are often depicted as terrifying malevolent creatures ( modelled after the god of darkness ), while eastern dragon are regularly depicted as wise and benevolent ( modelled after the god of light. )

because in this house we say “fuck you” to the one trait rule, i headcanon that dragon faunus have one main trait, and then a bunch of sub traits which greatly alter their physiology. main dragon traits are often flashy : horns, wings, tail, and / or an excess of scales. for example an important signature trait of dragon faunus is the ability to breathe fire, which separates them from any other reptile faunus. dragon faunus are born with a special venom reservoir ( what the venom is made of is a mystery, but ren theorises that it is actual liquid aura with some similar attributes to fire dust ) which leaks into the fangs. when the venom leaks out of the fangs and catalyses with oxygen, it becomes a flammable gas / smoke ( not harmful to anyone inhaling it ) meant to react to flint. dragon faunus are born with a gap in their gums specifically to place either flint or a piece of dust in there in order to breath fire. ( because of this, dragon faunus are resistant to the negative effects of dust ingestion. )

the amount of dragon faunus venom produced, and the muscles associated with the reservoir react to adrenaline, an increased heart rate, as well as an instinctive urge to bite. this makes the four major states of increased smoke production anger, nervousness, happiness, and arousal. the smoke itself is a different scent depending on the person, as it is theorised the venom is made from aura, the scent is as unique as the aura itself. ren’s smoke smells like lily incense. ren has a good sense of control over their smoke. not only does their semblance help them with controlling their emotions, but it is ingrained in lie dragon faunus to keep calm and focus so their smoke cannot be used to track them down. it is very rare of ren to lose their composure enough for someone to see the smoke ( especially when they are still hiding the fact that they are fauni. ) the smoke has a slight reflective property when inhaled, making the subject feel the same thing ren is feeling. if it is inhaled when ren is happy, then the subject will become happier too.

a fairly common attribute in some faunus are different genetic make up. ren is capable of processing raw meat in times of extreme desperation, even though their culinary knowledge and ability to breathe fire make this obsolete. they also have powerful lungs that aren’t as susceptible to things like cigarette smoke and harsh airborne chemicals, or at least corrode slower than human lungs. ren also has eyes which dilate and contract depending on exposure to sunlight, tougher nails to build up claws, fangs, etc.

dragon faunus bones are hollow, like a bird’s. to be honest, i have the same physiology headcanon about any faunus that can fly. they’re not completely hollow but there are air pockets within the bones. skeletal pneumaticity allows for a redistribution of mass within the body, and though does not drastically affect ren’s weight ( they’re a little lighter for a male their age ) this part of their physiology allows for better balance of weight within the body to allow for greater balance, agility, and ( with winged dragon faunus ) ease of flight. because of this, dragon faunus are susceptible to calcium deficiencies and bone diseases.

because ren’s horns were broken off when they were young and continuously filed down, they are small for their age. in dragon culture, it would be embarrassing to have horns this small unless you were still a child. dragons in ren’s region used to decorate their horns with intricate carvings, with jewellery, but ren is too afraid of damaging the integrity of them. the most they’ll do is wrap some flower and flower stems around them. because of their trauma concerning their horns, no one but close friends and family are allowed to touch them.

the reason the lie family heads have an extensive reputation for being isolating in regards to protecting their family comes from ancient horror stories of dragon poaching. the reason dragon faunus are so rare is because they are an ancient ancestral line rich with magic in their own physiology. they have been murdered and harvested for their faunus traits before. it’s a common thread of mythology that dragons were once made of pure magic ( originating from old stories of the two brothers ) and there is not one part of the dragon that cannot be sold for a very high price on the black market.

list of dragon part properties below, cut for length.

dragon bones are highly valuable because of their slow decomposition and strength. they are however hollow, which explains the common trait in lie heirs of valuing speed and agility over strength, making them very gifted in acrobatics and free running. dragon bones were often used to craft heat and lava proof tools. they were also used to create strong weaponry which seemed to amplify the strength of dust.

dragon eyes have six optic nerves to see light in different part so the colour spectrum, as opposed to the human’s one optic nerve. dust — aided lenses created using dragon eye could reveal parts of the dragon’s advance eyesight to regular humans and most faunus.

dragon scales are diamond hard, capable of resisting most projectiles unaffected, and are most often made of the minerals used to create their suitable gemstone, ie. an emerald scale to suit ren’s would be made out of beryl, chromium, and vanadium. dragon scales have a lifespan ; where they are fresh and newly grown they are their most beautiful and valuable, the extraction of a fresh scale is the most painful similar to the extraction of a fingernail and leaves scars in the shape of the outline of the scale. a dragon scale extracted stays the same and will not go through it’s lifespan. dragon scales dull over time, and are quicker to dull depending on the age of the dragon. when they are duller they are easier to remove, and it is at this point where they can be shaped into top notch jewellery, or even melted down into weaponry or dust — enhanced / enhancing tools. this cannot be done with fresh scales. the last stage of the scale is when they fall off to make room for a fresh new set of scales, it is at this point when they can be ground into actual dust ( this is where the foundation of ‘ dragons are made from magic ‘ mythology came from ) or turned into a potent drug which temporarily enhances semblance but at the terrifying cost of turning your flesh into crystal, and when it wears off the flesh turned crystal will either stay as is or crumble away. there is also a rumour that dragon scales dissolved into sulphuric acid, and again into 100 parts water can create an invisible ink glowing only under the magnetic conditions pertaining to the shattered moon.

dragon wings are one of the most light and durable materials known to man, primarily used in the age of brutality to aid in the creation of flying machines. they are fireproof, waterproof, and generally indirect damage proof. they will still break under physical pressure and are one of the slowest recovering parts of their body, the most effective outside weak spot. in a way similar to a tongue, most regenerative ability distributes to the wing first and then the rest of the body. the wings are highly important weak spots, in the words of the vikings, a downed dragon is a dead dragon. dragons with wings primarily made of feathers were also targeted; specifically because dragon quills are perfect for creating dust tattoos having no need to dip the quill in dust before applying it to the skin. it is just automatically there, since the feathers when burnt create dust in their ashes.

dragon teeth are commonly used to create dust — amplifying weapons, but the most valuable part of the dragon mouth is most definitely the venom reservoir ( mentioned above ). dragon faunus produce this all their lives, no matter if they use them or not. the smoke produced from combining the spark pouch and the venom reservoir is rumoured to reflect the temperament of the user once inhaled. the material in the venom reservoir is still unknown!! it has very few common traits, though is rumoured to take on characteristics depending on person. ren’s venom is the same colour as their eyes and aura. their venom is deceptively sweet smelling, and though ren hasn’t learnt much through experimentation, knows that the smoke they produce often smells like fading incense.

dragon blood is a slow corrosive. this is one of the most rare dragon faunus traits. in small doses can promote health and regeneration, in the rarest cases able to cure incurable diseases and even regenerate lost limbs ( like a lizard ). it can be used to heal most wounds. ingested dragon’s blood in high doses can corrode the body from the inside out, damaging the brain and language centre first. those that have abused dragon’s blood before are recorded to speak some strange ancient language before dying. the ancient lie clan believed this language was that of the moon men. unbeknownst to her, ren’s mother was a dragon faunus with one such trait. she did not know this for the entirety of her existence, though she did miraculously heal from a terminal illness as she aged. she effectively destroyed her matrilineal history of a special terminal illness that has affected their family for countless generations. she never came to know this, and until ren has children, and their children have children, they might never know.

western origin dragon horns hollowed out produce beautiful music. there is no magical trait about them save for particularly successful results when used in pagan rituals, or high levels of luck in killing enemies when made into a dust — amplifying weapon. horns are considered the least valuable of all dragon parts, and thus are the most common trait.

[paladin-andric]

A Hero’s Welcome

Note: This is a repost/edit of a Jotober Story I wrote last year in October. I added an epilogue that was attached via reblog but I’d much rather just combine the two into one post. So without further ado, here is a tale of courage, honor and sacrifice...

The levy watched helplessly as the great tyrant approached. Flying from the horizon, the black dragon drew closer. The small, underequipped force were the only ones that had made it in time. Other detachments of the army would come in time, but not before the city was gone.

Behind the small army stood Erine, a large city in the east of Geralthin. It was still in the process of being evacuated. The black dragon had already destroyed several villages on the border. No one knew why this horrible beast was suddenly trying to slaughter everyone and everything, but that didn’t matter. If the army was defeated, all the people in the city would be killed, murdered by the beast.

And looking at their odds, that looked to be the result.

Captain Igan sighed. The commander of the small force, he knew his doom was approaching. The nobles and their mighty retinue armies were nowhere in sight. He, a commoner himself, was merely a commander of a garrison that had been nearby. With only a hundred men of spearmen and bowmen, all using low quality weapons and wearing leathers at best, victory seemed a distant fantasy.

The sky was a dark blue, the sun having set an hour ago. There were a few stars visible, but it was still early in the night. Several men throughout the lines held torches, illuminating the area around them…not that the dragon was particularly hard to miss. The moon was full as well, bathing the entire field in a dim light. Visibility could be worse.

The captain, one of very few lucky enough to be wearing a proper suit of armor, looked over his army. The men clutched their weapons tightly, fear and tension written on their faces.

He couldn’t risk them running away. Their chances of survival were slim enough as it was. He’d need every single last man to even have a shot at this. If everyone kept firing and stabbing…maybe something would hit the dragon in the eye eventually?

“Men!” Igan stood in front of the forces, sword in his hand. “Here, is where we stand! Here is where we live or die as free men of Geralthin! Here, is where we must turn the tide of darkness, or see our sons and daughters butchered, crushed beneath a tyrant’s heel…we MUST not fail!”

The desperation in his voice was apparent, making all listen carefully.

“We must not fail…if some of us die here it matters not…so long as Erine lives on! For if we fail, all is lost…the Royal Army will arrive to cinders, ruin, and the corpses of men, women and children, and YOU, my FINE soldiers…would NEVER let that happen!”

Many men cheered…though plenty didn’t. His little speech may have whipped up a few of the locals, but most of them knew they were as good as dead.

“Units…await my orders!” Igan stood beside the first line of spearmen, silently praying. Praying for something, anything.

A miracle.

As the dragon flew closer, a sudden shout rang out from the men. Igan whirled around as some soldiers in the back line began yelling.

Another figure was flying through the sky, with distinctly draconic features, yet…it was not a dragon. Not entirely.

It had the horns and scales, sure, but…it was the size of a man, and was covered in gleaming plate armor.

It was one of those damned, filthy halfbloods!

“Archers!”

The bowmen drew their arrows back, ready to fire and waiting on the order. As the dragonoid approached, its voice rang out.

“Hold your fire! I’m here to aid you!”

Surprisingly melodious. Igan shook the thought from his head as the creature landed. Now close to the captain, it was clear that this was indeed one of the half-dragons. Its scales were a bright white, and its plate was nearly as blindingly bright as well. It had a greatsword on its back, between its wings.

The captain snarled. “What the HELL do you think you’re doing?! This is a military operation and I will not tolerate vagabonds and trespassers!”

“I am Costinia, and I am a Paladin of the Order of God,” the dragonoid stated plainly, “I am here to offer my aid against the tyrant.”

The captain noted that Costinia was a girl’s name, the only identifier since that disgusting form made them all look the same.

Igan glared at the beast. He had no love for the creatures. They had only a portion of the dragons’ strength, yet just as much ego.

Ego. Arrogance. Foolhardiness. All things that led to disobeying orders. Disobeying orders got people killed, lost battles.

“This is an army. If you are joining, you are to obey me, your commander! Understand that, halfbreed?”

That final word, ‘halfbreed’…he had leaned forward and spat it in her face with vitriol…he made his loathing of her origins clear.

As one might expect from a paladin, she coolly ignored the hostility and maintained professionalism. She folded her hands behind her back and nodded. “Yessir.”

“Good. I will see none die from disorder. Seeing as you are likely the most skilled of the forces assembled I expect to see you in the front lines, in the thick of the fight at all times.”

“There is no place else on the field for a paladin, sir.”

“Excellent. Stand beside me in the spearwall!”

He had to admire her silent deferral to him, at least. She wasn’t as wild and arrogant as most halfbloods were.

We’ll see if she can resist her urge to play hero…

“So…you’re all? Where’s the rest of the church?”

“Still mobilizing. I just happened to be in the area.”

“Ah.”

It had been a long time since the dragon was spotted on the horizon, and now it was nearly upon them. As it approached, the mere shadow become more easily visible…and it was headed right for the army.

“ARCHERS, FIRE AT WILL!”

The spearmen lowered their spears and raised their shields as the bowmen began firing. Well over a hundred arrows flew over Igan’s head and toward the dragon.

Many of those arrows seemed to hit their mark, but had no noticeable effect. Many snapped and broken arrows fell in a shower to the grass below.

“Sir, I should engage!” Costinia shouted, holding her greatsword at the ready.

“Hold!” Igan yelled in response.

“I’m no use here! Let me distract him so you may open fire without worry!”

“I said HOLD!”

“You have the strength of Heaven at your side…let it loose on your foe!”

To hell with it.

“Fine! But if I regret this, you will be tried for treason!”

The dragonoid lowered herself.

“You won’t.”

With that, she launched into the air, soaring towards the black dragon, sword raised.

“DEFILER! YOUR REIGN OF TERROR ENDS HERE!” the dragonoid shrieked.

“Pathetic half-kin! I give you one chance to kneel before me!” the beast roared back.

Costinia replied by swinging her greatsword. A massive arch of magic flew forwards as she swung, the wave of power crashing into the dragon and making it roar out in pain.

Flapping her wings, the dragonoid readied herself for the beast’s retaliation. It came suddenly, a boiling wave of blackness washed over the dragonoid…

Just as he shook his head at her foolish arrogance, Igan’s eyes widened as the death magic dissipated…and she still remained.

“What?!” Igan and the dragon shouted in unison.

“It will take more than that, tyrant,” Costinia offered, swinging her sword and letting loose another wave of magic. Again, it battered the dragon, making him reel and cry out in rage.

“FALL, VERMIN!” the great beast roared out as he flew forward, missing as she evaded and slashed him across the stomach.

“ARCHERS! KEEP FIRING! SPEARMEN, MARCH!” Igan moved forward, eager to at least steal the dragon’s focus if his forces couldn’t actually harm it. The levies hesitantly joined, moving forward as hail of arrows flew toward the dragon. Once again, many hit the beast, but none seemed to do anything.

If Costinia weren’t here…

The captain watched as the half-dragon paladin and dragon fought, the smaller humanoid smoothy dodging several swipes sent her way. She landed a few hits, and though they did actually hurt the beast, he still seemed uninjured.

Their battle continued this way, with the dragonoid landing a few scrapes while avoiding harm, though she did at one point have to avoid a few stray arrows.

As the spearmen drew close, Igan wasn’t sure exactly what to do. Their spears would simply snap in half if they actually did manage to run up and stab the dragon while it was flying low.

“Spearmen, hold position! Shieldwall!”

Though he wanted to aid her, Costinia was the only one that could actually engage the beast. Perhaps some opening would present itself in time…

Seeing a hit she couldn’t avoid, the dragonoid only had a chance to tense up as the dragon’s claws came crashing down on her, sending her slamming into the grass below in a heap.

“Pathetic half-kin! Allow me to send you to your precious God!”

Captain Igan had to do something! If they lost her, this was all over!

“SPEARMEN! THROW YOUR SPEARS! NOW!”

In a moment, as the dragon readied itself to finish the paladin, hundreds of spears and arrows flew through the air, smacking into his flanks.

That seemed to do it. Without magical weaponry, it took enormous amounts of projectiles to even make them feel anything. He looked over at the army with such a hate-filled gaze that the captain actually shuddered reflexively.

“Insects, to be swept aside. To be burned and poisoned. To be exterminated.”

The dragon flew forward, landing on the front line. Dozens of soldiers were immediately crushed underneath him, with more being sent flying as he swiped around him. Most of the front line now unarmed, many began to fall back at Igan’s barking as the back line, still armed with spears, moved up. An especially brave soldier, within touching distance of the dragon, began bringing the pointed bottom of his tear-shaped shield down on the dragon’s foot. Even without a weapon, he fought ferociously.

The nameless soldier was quickly killed with many more as the dragon rampaged, stomping and swiping through the lines.

Suddenly, Costinia slammed into the dragon, digging her greatsword into the dragon’s back. He roared out in pain and anger, grabbing her and slamming her into the ground with murderous force.

She was dead. She had to be. None could could survive such an attack. It was as if she had fallen from the top of a cliff with the force she hit the ground.

Roaring in triumph, the dragon pulled back and let loose his breath, a could of black death falling over the soldiers. The spray went wide, and very narrowly missing the captain himself.

“You cannot harm me…and you cannot even deter me. Watch as I snuff out the candle that is your home, worthless insects!”

Mood Music

The dragon barreled through the soldiers, a huge gap from the decimated line making it simple. Stomping over a few of the archers, he took to the sky, and flew high up…before moving towards the city.

He was going to exterminate the citizens who had not evacuated. Those leading the evacuation, the sick and elderly who needed extra time to be led out, the lost and hopeless…

And there wasn’t a damn thing they could do about it.

Igan looked to his lines. There were corpses strewn all about. Some squashed, some mauled, and some eaten from the inside-out from the accursed dark magic.

This was the end.

They had failed.

As the captain nearly fell to his knees in anguish, the sudden sound of shifting plate made him look to his side.

Costinia, the halfblood, she…

She was getting up!

Bloody and battered, she clutched at her chest. It looked as though a few inside bits had been broken, but…somehow, she lived.

“Commander…” the word was shallow, a short gasp following.

“My God…how the hell are you alive?!”

She shook her head. “Sorry, sir. I can’t adhere to the promise any longer.”

“It doesn’t matter. The battle is lost.”

The paladin glanced down and too the side, looking mournful. “Well, there is one way…”

Igan’s eyes widened. “W-what?! What is it?”

She lowered her head. Taking a deep breath, she stood up tall, fire in her eyes.

“I go with God. This is the end.”

“What are you talking about?”

The dragonoid stepped forward, clawed fists balled up as she glared at the dragon.

“I must go, now. To join the fallen. I thought if I fought to my best abilities, I could win, but…there’s no time left. I cannot risk the city. I must take him with me.”

“Take him WITH you?! What’re you up to, halfbreed?!”

The white dragonoid clasped her hands together, head lowered in prayer as she murmured to herself. Suddenly, white hot energy began pouring off of her.

“Farewell, commander.”

The dragonoid launched into the sky, flying after the black dragon. The power in her intensified, more and more, overfilling her and beginning to harm her…

Just as planned. This was all she had left.

One final attack.

Costinia felt her scales burn away and her skin begin to boil as she picked up more and more speed, losing her vision and feeling horrific, searing pain all over her body. All was white around her, and her own body began to melt away under the sun-like conditions, but before that happened…she would serve the Lord one last time.

Glory be to God.

Igar watched in shock as the flying dragonoid began glowing, turning into a blinding white light in the sky as she picked up incredible speed, flying from the army to the dragon in a moment’s time. The incredible speeding, blazing white light, set against the backdrop of the dark night sky, it was like…

A shooting star.

The captain watched as the light shot through the dragon, clean through him. A massive hole was torn through him as he roared out and fell like a stone, to the grounds below.

As the earth-shaking thud sounded out, the men began cheering, screaming and raising their fists to the sky in rapture.

The captain smiled. “I was wrong about you,” he murmured to himself, “You absolute hero, you…”

The bellowing cheers and celebrating was suddenly cut short as the light faded from the sky, revealing…

…nothing.

Igan felt a pit in his stomach as he began running towards the city, hoping to find answers below.

As they moved towards the city, they found the lifeless corpse of the dragon on the ground, as well as something else. Small, twisted bits of metal. As he ran his hand across a chunk of the burned material, some ash came off, revealing a speck of gleaming silver.

It was her armor.

It all came crashing down on him. That wasn’t just a fancy spell…she had literally turned herself into a blazing star, sacrificing her own life to save hundreds, maybe thousands.

“Damn it…Costinia, I didn’t…” he slammed a fist on the ground in frustration.

“…I didn’t get to apologize.”

Slowly rising to his feet, he collected himself, looking up as he wiped the tears away.

Above him, right where the final blow had been struck, a single, twinkling star stood.

A range of thoughts and emotions raged through Igan. Thoughts of destiny, heroism and loss.

Tears flowing anew, the captain saluted, offering his respect to the light above.

She would be given a hero’s funeral. He would make sure of that. No matter how many letters he’d have to send to the Royal Army. No matter how many times he’d have to appear before the retainers. She deserved that much.

And perhaps, up in heaven, right now…she was being given what she deserved.

A hero’s welcome.

Many years later...

Through the silent city streets, a lone figure marched. A man in a military uniform, weathered and bearded. The hardened commander marched in a dignified fashion towards the city square.

There was a parade out in the fields. That was why the city looked like a ghost town. If things had gone wrong all those years ago…

Well, a festival wouldn’t be the reason for the lack of life.

Stepping into the open city square, his eyes fell on it.

Just as he had remembered her.

A marble statue stood in the center of the square, taking up a great amount of space. He had heard of its construction, and had finally gotten a day off to come see it.

A statue of a dragonoid, in a suit of plate armor, face visible. She held her greatsword close to her chest, gazing up and to the side in a heroic pose.

He approached, smiling a wry smile. “Hey. Hope things are going well for you, wherever you are.”

Good thing the city was virtually empty, or else the people might think him a madman!

“Things are going well for me. I’ve not the simple garrison commander you once knew…and if that day went sour, well…I wouldn’t be here right now.”

The commander sighed. “I just wanted to say thank you. I’m not sure if you can hear me, but…I was wrong. I never got the chance to say sorry, but if you’re up there, somewhere…I apologize.”

He looked down at the plaque at the base of the state.

In honor of Costinia, the hero who saved Erine. May her presence continue to protect this great city.

He saluted for a few moments, before breaking the gesture. Reaching into his coat, the general pulled out a small gift, laying down on the statue.

At Costinia’s feet, a bouquet of flowers now sat.

“Perhaps, if things had gone differently, we might have been-” his lip quivered.

“…friends.”

General Igan turned and walked away, his visit complete. At least now, he had some closure. Perhaps she couldn’t hear him, perhaps she wasn’t really there, watching…but he hoped she was.

“Godspeed, Costinia.”

Tag list: @thereisnothingwrongwithbeingmad, @lady-redshield-writes, @paper-shield-and-wooden-sword, @sheralynnramsey, @tawnywrites, @writer-on-time, @oceanwriter, @zwergis-spilledink, @fluffpiggy, @elliewritesfantasy, @homesteadhorner,  @laurenwastestimewriting, @elaynab-writing, @the-ichor-of-ruination, @disheveledcorvid, @reya-writes, @bexminx

[rubypop]

Hunger, Chapter 12 - Dragon Age 2

Hunger by rubypop Chapter 12

Garbed in lyrium, Fenris traversed the pulsing throat. He fell headfirst through fleshy pathways illuminated only by the white-hot burn of his markings. From all around throbbed the muffled beating of a massive heart.

When he tumbled against resisting tissue, he clawed his way through, and ghosted, and burrowed deeper. He did not think about whether or not he would suffocate here, or become lost, or exhaust the energy required to maintain his gleaming aura. He merely fought on, focused, seeking her in this nightmare-place.

The walls of flesh pressed close, palpitating. He could feel the shiver of sensory nerves. He dragged himself through fluid and cilia. Deeper.

He heard voices.

He thought, at first, that he must be mistaken, confounded by the sheer heat and compressing space. But, yes, there were voices, distant and moaning, crying, begging. As though the soul of every poor wretch that the beast had devoured lay trapped here, as corporeal as shadows.

He remembered Ser Clerval. He remembered the empty cottages. He remembered the mountain of pieces and parts.

He emerged into a chamber lined with seams of jagged teeth. He remembered, from his glimpses in the Fade, the sensation of swallowing bones, many bones, and thought of these great pointed teeth grinding the bones to pulp. He saw, then, a fleshy mass hanging from above, and realized it was all skin and veins and hair, pulsating, protective. Pieces and parts.

He flickered to the mass and ripped, and tore, and shredded with his claws.

The chamber spasmed. A guttural roar echoed from seemingly far away, echoed from the throat that he had navigated. The voices wept and pled. He did not stop. With both hands he slashed and yanked errant flesh away, succumbing to a wild frenzy, until the shadows thrown by his markings withdrew from a sallow inert face, and pale lips, and dark hair.

He uttered her name.

Her eyes opened. Her brows drew together. She mouthed, and then said, "Fenris?"

He stripped away the imprisoning flesh. He flung his arms around her. He hugged her close.

The chamber spasmed again, and shook. The walls undulated in horrible waves. Fenris leapt, clutching Hawke, back the way he had come. Adrenaline urged him on, and he climbed. Hawke buried her face into his chest. His arm tightened around her.

The fleshy walls rebelled. Their contractions fought him, rippling back, forcing him down. Fenris realized that Hunger was swallowing them, to wrest them back into that toothed prison.

His markings, now, were searing him, lit for so long. As though hot knives followed along their patterns, slicing through every layer of skin. He raised a hand and it grew hotter, brighter. He plunged it deep, claws out, into the pulsating wall.

A retching shiver screamed through the walls. Fenris and Hawke swayed against a long, violent lurch. Another tremor flung them forward. They pitched and rolled along the undulation. Moving forward. Climbing higher.

Fenris enveloped Hawke in his arms. With a blinding burst of light he ignited. The heat scorched him, agonizing and total. Together they were flung through the cavern of the demon's mouth, between the yellow teeth, which snapped closed behind them, and they went sprawling on the ground, into the sweet air.

Hunger was roaring, screaming, writhing back.

Fenris cradled Hawke, unable to speak, to formulate any kind of conscious thought. The light from his markings died and with it the agonizing heat.

She was small against him, limp with exhaustion, peering through half-lidded eyes, shocked by the sight of him. He brushed the wet dark hair from her forehead.

"Never," he said. "I will never lose you again."

Tears ran freely down her cheeks.

#

Justice hurried along vesicular pathways, blindly following the fetid air, the breath of the cavern, and he glanced up at every drip of condensation, every clatter of loosened rock. He steeled himself for what he knew was to come, unafraid, and knowing still that he must face what awaited him alone.

I will die for her, he thought, as he flew along the echoing corridor. If it must come to that, I will die for her.

Some human fragment of himself was trembling with doubt, and angrily he quashed the notion, briefly bringing light to the jagged shadows.

If I must die, that human side whispered, what of my people? What of Darktown? What of the beggar-girl, kicked down and used and starving?

I will die for Marian.

What of the bed, from which she was taken?

Justice shed a current of light, gripping his staff.

I cannot fight the demon alone.

I will. There is no other choice.

Do I not have a choice?

No. You do not.

He flickered onward through the black caves.

#

"I will never lose you again."

Hawke shut her eyes, opened them again. She did not know where she was. She could not identify the howls of agony that were echoing throughout the cavern. She saw only Fenris, the tears in his eyes, the sticky peritoneal residue that covered them both. She vaguely remembered flesh, the monstrous pulse-beats that had surrounded her. She vaguely remembered that kernel of strength, and thoughts of Anders that had sustained her.

Fenris embraced her again. Shaking, she reached up and touched his face.

"Fenris," she repeated.

Her mind was slowly clearing. She saw, then, the demon that thrashed behind them. He caught sight of her, and his white eyes lit up, and he reached out with long barbed claws.

"Little thing," he said, his words strangled.

Fenris lifted her and stumbled. Hunger reared back and scrambled toward them, enormous and spiked and screaming, and like lightning his long arm lashed out, his great claws came around, and Fenris let out a horrible choking sound and collapsed.

Blood flecked the rock walls. Hawke sprawled from Fenris's arms, and she caught sight of ragged wounds, the ripped leather of his tunic. A small wooden totem fell from Fenris's pocket and skittered across the ground. With an intake of breath she recognized it: the tiny wooden horse, rudely-carved and stained with blood.

She flung herself upon Fenris and grabbed the figurine. She held it close.

"YOU." Hunger's eyes flashed, were blinding, his claws tense and splayed and razor sharp. "BELONG. TO. ME."

"Our contract is fulfilled!" Hawke said. "Leave me or kill me, I will never become a part of you!"

Hunger howled, and shook the walls.

"I will not lose myself," Hawke cried, "and all that I am!"

She clung to Fenris, and ran her hand over his wounds, sealing them with a prayer.

Hunger was descending over them, his jaws stretched wide with fury, his claws flexed and ready to separate them, to tear them apart, to shred them to nothing if necessary.

A great arcane projectile flooded the cavern with light. It smashed into Hunger's gaping mouth, sending him backward, to crash against the stalagmites.

Hawke wrenched around. Anders stood with his staff raised, heaving and dripping sweat, staring at them both.

She shouted his name, but his eyes snapped up, and Hunger was rising, the flesh of his mouth black and smoking, the teeth scorched, still intact. Anders whipped his staff to one side and fired again.

Hawke smoothed her hand over Fenris's face. "Fenris," she said urgently. "I need a dagger. Please."

He blinked several times. His eyes rolled to one side, and trembling he sat up. "There."

She turned. The body of a young woman draped across the ground like withered flowers. The hilt of a knife protruded from her red bodice. Lifelessly she stared up, at nothing either of them could see, or ever hoped to see.

Hawke crawled to the body and gripped the knife. She apologized silently and yanked the knife free. The blade was long and curved and sharp: a skinning knife. It would do. She wiped it on her robes.

Fenris staggered to her. Anders was shouting, feinting and skirting Hunger's claws. Fenris said, "I have to help him."

"Your sword —"

"They stripped it from me." He nodded to the body.

"We must bind him," Hawke said. She proffered the horse figurine. "It's the only way."

Fenris glanced askance. "But how —"

Hawke dropped the figurine to the ground. She raised the knife and brought its wicked edge down.

The wooden totem split. Its jagged halves splintered and fell away, revealing the gleam of a long brass pin.

"Maker," Fenris said.

"This charm is our only chance," Hawke said, palming it. "I pray it still holds the same power, after all of these years."

"Marian!" Anders shouted, and Hunger swatted him, and he collided with the wall, his surcoat falling open. He struggled to rise from the ground, as Hunger rounded on them.

"NOW I SHALL KILL THEM BOTH," he howled. "I WILL RIP THEM APART, BONE BY BONE, AND SUCK THE FLESH FROM THEM, AND GORGE MYSELF ON THEIR BLOOD."

"Fenris," Hawke uttered.

"I WILL SLIT THEIR BELLIES AND UNWIND THEIR GUTS."

"I need your help," she said.

"I WILL CRACK OPEN THEIR SKULLS AND SLURP UP THEIR EYES AND THEIR BRAINS, ALL WHILE THEY STILL LIVE."

"Anything," Fenris said.

She touched his throat. He placed a hand on hers, and realized she was tracing the scar there.

"We have a blood bond," she whispered. "I forged one, when I healed you in the sea cave. When I made this scar." She met his eyes. "It is the same bond that Hunger made with me, when he sealed the first scar in my wrist, when I was a child."

He searched her face.

"I need you to trust me," she said.

"AND YOU. WILL. BE. MINE."

"I trust you," Fenris said.

She embraced him. He clung to her. He pressed his cheek to hers, shutting his eyes fast. He thought of the small window in the roof, and its rose-colored light. He thought of her pale, scarred arm beside his on the staircase. He thought of Dragana questioning him in the garden, what he'd said, what it'd meant.

"There is great power," Hawke whispered, "in blood freshly spilled."

The edge of the blade met his throat, met hers, connecting the space between them.

"I love you," he said, and she drew the blade, cutting their throats.

They fell away from one another. Hawke heard Anders scream as though from some faraway place. The pulse of old maleficar magic thrummed in her veins, filling the space left by draining blood.

The blood danced in a frenzied mist. Scarlet gyres whirled between them. She spread her hands. She conducted. She stirred at the air. The crimson mist ribboned and swooped. It hurtled across the cave. It penetrated Hunger's flesh.

He shrieked.

The walls trembled. The cavern floor rocked beneath them.

Fleshy sinews and strings spilled from Hunger's nacreous hide. They lashed against the floor, around boulders, clung to reaching stalactites. Hawke stumbled forward. She touched her sliced throat. The pin flashed in her hand.

"MY LITTLE MAGE," Hunger screamed. His claws combed at the fleshy sinews, to no avail.

Hawke's chest heaved. Her vision was darkening. The black fleshy strings held fast, stretching as Hunger thrashed. Hawke collapsed at his feet. She glared up at him.

"I am not yours," she said, and pierced the strands with the pin.

The demon howled. His screams shook the cavern itself, and Hawke flung herself back, as rocks and boulders shook free of the ceiling and crashed down. She scrambled back to Fenris and shielded him, pressing her palm to his throat, and a palm to her own, whispering, as the cave threatened to bury them all.

Old magic scented the air. Hawke could feel it radiating from the pin. Old magic, borne from skilled hands somewhere deep in the Wilds, made to punish, to bind, and bind forever. She glanced back. Hunger yanked and tore at his bonds. They held fast. Rocks rained down around him. From behind him, Anders rose up, bleeding. He raised his staff like a beacon, and brought it back down. A long crack tore through the earth along the wall, across the ceiling, over Hunger's head. And he brought the ceiling down, caving in over the trapped beast.

Hawke squeezed her eyes shut, clinging to Fenris as the falling earth thundered around them. The crashing boulders blotted out Hunger's accusatory wails. The vibrating earth slowly grew still. After what could have easily been an eternity, all was quiet.

Hawke opened her eyes. She stared down at Fenris. He had grown pale and sickly-looking, from the loss of blood. His red eyes opened. They stared at one another. Neither noticed Anders as he shakily crossed the cavern to join them.

###

From rubypop:

Thank you, so much, to everyone who's been reading. Your encouragement has really meant a lot to me, and I'm happy to have finally finished this one. I appreciate your patience during my long absence, and I look forward to writing more fic in the future.

Thanks again!