#IT HAS THE INSIDE ROBE PATTERN WE ALL BEEN SPECULATING ABOUT

[bloobluebloo]

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THIS JACKET IS A PRIZE FOR ONLY 10 PEOPLE IN JAPAN ONLY THAT’S SO EVIIIIIIIIIIIL

#cmon man why you gotta be like that #just release it to the wild #let me buy it #LET ME BUY IT!!! #IT HAS THE INSIDE ROBE PATTERN WE ALL BEEN SPECULATING ABOUT #this is gonna haunt me in my sleep i fuckin SWEAR #ganonthots

[ask-those-dumbasses]

Lore Post About The Gods

There are many gods in this universe, we are only going to be talking about the relevant ones. Otherwise this is gonna turn into the Greek God family tree very fast and trust me we don’t want that. So, let’s talk about some gods!

The God of Time - Avus Tempus (Grandpa Time)

General information: 

The oldest god and the god that interacts with people the most, Avus Tempus is the most well known. He is the keeper of time, making sure it passes normally with no great disturbances. He watches as time passes, but does not interfere with mortal disagreements, even if he disapproves. He says that it is not his job to interfere.

Avus is older than time itself, and is the creator of the other gods. Avus was also the creator of the first Time Demons - which he calls his children with great glee. He has been given many nicknames over the years, with the most common being “Grandpa Time.” The limits to his powers are unknown, but is it commonly known that he can control the flow of time, and can open portals to different dimensions or various periods throughout time by roaring. People also know that he, with the help of his two direct children, Moíra and Apeiro, killed the Titan of War during his rampage.

(Bonus: Grandfather clocks were named after him)

Appearance: 

Avus appears as a long serpent like dragon with no arms or legs, green scales, golden horns and eyes, with long white hair down his spine and on his chin, making a beard of sorts. Legends say that his body extends forever, able to loop around the earth. Avus himself jokes that he has not ever seen his own tail. His fur is said to be as soft as clouds, and his scales are so tough that no spear could pierce it. However, despite being immortal, Avus himself is not completely immune to the effects of time. His eyes are pale and milky, showing that with age his sight has gotten very poor. Today he would be considered almost legally blind.

Where they live:

Avus lives in a huge palace on the top of the largest mountain on Earth. The mountain is called “Mortum Manga,” and is on the “Multi Ossa” mountain range. Inside his palace are intricate carvings on the walls that tell the history of the world, from Avus’ creaton on to current day. There is also a fountain which is called the “Fountain of Youth.” Contrary to popular belief, this fountain does not make you immortal or young, but instead heals all sicknesses. It was named the Fountain of Youth because it was used to cure a large plague that was mostly killing children. 

Along the side of the mountain is a small village called “The Village Of Lights.“ These people often interact with Avus directly. In fact, every 5 years they hold a festival where they light various sky lanterns and send them into the sky. Afterwards, Avus comes down to the village and talks to them. He specifically likes to meet with all of the children - who he likes to call his grandkids. 

Personality: 

He is an extremely friendly and passive god, often inviting people to come and have tea with him in his palace. Overall, Avus is very polite and is more than willing to shelter anyone if they ask. However that is difficult for most - since not only does he live atop the highest mountain, he also does look very intimidating. In reality he just wants to talk about how your day has been going. Avus is most certainly the kindest god that mortals can talk to. 

He tries his best to keep up with new terms, words, controversial topics, etc. Because of his old age it can be hard for him to keep up. He ends up coming across as that overly supportive and sweet grandparent that doesn't understand but is trying to. (Ex: “Are you a boy or a girl? I cannot tell. My vision isn’t what it used to be. Oh wait - are you one of those non-berries? Not binaries? So sorry I don’t remember.”). Because of his age he is also considered very knowledgeable and wise, and people will sometimes come to him or pray to him for advice and counsel. 

Avus is mostly considered to be extremely patient and calm, however there have been reports of him being fiercely protective of his “little village.” Those who have dared to harm those living or seeking refuge there have mysteriously ended up turned to stone. 

The God of Life, Death, and Fate - Apeiro

General Information:

Apeiro is the god of life and death, which means it’s their job to make sure life is balanced. Apeiro can keep populations down through plagues, famine, natural disasters, or other means. Aperio can also bless certain times with good crops, more births, or other means to make sure populations stay up if need be. It is important to remember that Aperio’s job is NOT to make life/death fair.  Apeiro also makes sure that spirits end up in their proper afterlife. Apeiro can also tug on the strings of fate, not manipulating them completely, but pushing them where they want it to go.

They stand against large acts of necromancy, however, they made a deal with Alita long ago. In this deal, Totems Of Undying were allowed to be created and sealed deep inside Jungle Temples. It is unknown exactly what Apeiro got in exchange for allowing this to happen but people have speculated that it has something to do with the existence of Wither Skeletons, which guard Nether Fortresses, and Withers, which can be made with a combination of three Wither Skulls and Soul Sand. 

Apeiro also assisted Avus and Moíra in taking down the Titan of War. 

Appearance:

They have a dark gray cloak/robe that wraps around them and flows dramatically to the floor. It drifts behind them, rippling and waving like there’s constantly a breeze. At the edges of the cloak there are dozens of tiny white stars. They don’t have a face, just a black shadow that flickers around the edges when you look directly at it (which is something you should never do). They do have hands that look like skeleton talons that float separately from their body since they do not have arms. They also have horns that used to merge as a sort of crown above their head. Now, from previous battles, those horns have been splintered and broken in two.

Where they live: 

Apeiro lives inside a castle, which has the foundation of the skeleton of an ancient colossal dragon. They live with their younger sister, Moíra. Apeiro specifically lives in the head - which has been remade into a massive throne room mixed with a fancy ballroom. The neck leading up to this room is a very long hallway that has many statues of many different people. These people are referred to as “Champions,” and they are previous winners of the Champion’s Cup. 

This skeleton castle is called the “Fossa Palace” and it can be found in the middle of the “Decaying Wastelands” desert. It is unknown what killed the colossal dragon, but rumors have spread that Aperio did it themselves and decided to make it their home. Regardless, when the wind blows in the cold of night, people say they can still hear soft roars and hums of the dead dragon. 

Other than living with Moíra, Apeiro lives completely alone and does not normally travel outside of their castle. They only do so in big emergencies such as universal threats or large acts of necromancy. 

Personality: 

Apeiro is very dramatic and adores big and grand theatrics. The Champions Cup itself was created out of boredom since messing with mortal lives from the sidelines can only entertain a god for so long. Speaking of which, Apeiro finds great entertainment in watching mortal lives, and loves to play with them. Whether this is good playing or bad playing, depends on their mood. Apeiro finds it amusing to poke and prod at people’s lives from time to time, and is considered a being of madness from a few of their victims. Apeiro laughs as a witness to human wars, and sees all mortal conflict as beneath them. They will sometimes even find glee in watching other gods squabble over petty things. 

The Goddess of Karma, Justice, and Fortune - Moíra

General Information:

Moíra is the goddess of karma, justice, and fortune. This means she mainly watches over humanity and tries to keep people’s lives fair, even, and balanced. She gets very angered when there are big atrocities happening in the world, or even just when excessively unfair things happen to good or bad people. She is often the judge and jury and innacts justice as she sees fit. Moíra is a very patient force as well, and ensures that eventually, in one way or another, that good things happen to good people and bad things happen to bad people. karma is a patient force. 

She also blesses those she sees fit with various fortunes (whether this be money, something more spiritual, or something emotional will depend), or will take away from those who have committed horrendous crimes, 

Moíra also helped Avus and Apeiro kill the titan of war, and was the main one leading the charge against him. 

Appearance:

Moíra wears an extravagant white robe with golden patterns of leaves as an accent. She appears as a youthful human woman with dark skin and curly hair, but is very unnerving to look at. Her eyes are pure gold, dripping liquid gold down her cheeks. She has large curling goat horns which are decorated with various gems. Moíra also wears a laurel headpiece as a crown, with a bright red ruby in the center. She constantly floats just above the ground in order to keep herself clean. 

Where they live: 

Moíra lives inside a castle, which has the foundation of the skeleton of an ancient colossal dragon. She lives with her older sibling, Aperio. Moíra specifically lives near the top of the rib cage - which has been remade into a large fighting stadium. This stadium is where a tournament called the “Champion’s Cup” is held once a decade. There is an observatory hanging from the top of the dome ceiling, this is where Moíra resides. However she can also commonly be found with Aperio, or in the castle's library. Moíra does travel outside the castle for business purposes and works with people a lot.  

Personality: 

Moíra is much more careful about keeping balance then Apeiro is, and is much more responsible with her powers. Moíra also tends to scold her older sibling very often and is not very trusting of them. People think that the only reason Moíra lives with Apeiro is because she wants to keep a close eye on them.

By and large, Moíra is a very patient and slow god. She takes her time and thinks her actions through for a long time before acting. She thinks, a lot, and makes very calculated decisions like some sort of gamemaster. Moíra is willing to play the long game and waits for the pieces to fall into place so she can enact her plan properly. 

Moíra is also very vengeful, and remembers all of the little wrongdoings people have done. However she is very fair with her punishments, at least, she sees what she has done as fair. 

The Goddess of The End and the Keeper of The Void - The Enderdragon 

General Information 

History says that long ago there were Colossal Dragons; dragons that were born small and slowly grew throughout their lives until they were bigger than mountains. They have largely gone extinct because food became scarce and they were unable to eat enough to maintain their size. Some of their skeletons can still be seen to this day.

People know whispers of an old tale, about a dragon larger than mountains who rules The End as queen, and controls the Endermen as slaves to her will. That long ago she attempted to wipe out all life on this planet, but failed due to an intervention from Moíra, along with Avus who both banished her away from the Overworld. They say that one day, The Enderdragon will return, and have her revenge on everyone who dared forget her name. 

The majority of people don’t even believe she’s real, and some have never even heard of her. Most people believe The Enderdraon is a made-up myth tale that was made by man to explain the unknown creation of Endermen. Some people see The Enderdragon as a sort of boogeyman figure, a tale Dragon Riders will tell their children to get them to behave; Others believe she’s just some rumor made to prevent people from exploring The Stronghold. The only thing people know for certain, is that people who have dared to enter The End have either been never seen again, or come back with horrifying stories and with their children being cursed and becoming Endermen hybrids.

Appearance:

In stories she is illustrated as a large black dragon, bigger than mountains, with large grey horns and wings. The wings are usually torn, along with many scars from various battles decorating her body. The most prominent feature is her bright purple eyes. It is said that she breathes hot purple fire. 

Where they live:

In the End, one of the many different dimensions in this universe. It is mostly illustrated as many floating islands made of pale yellow sand. There are various crumbling purple buildings, along with purple plants that grow an odd fruit with teleportation abilities called “chorus fruit.” Endermen in the overworld are sometimes seen holding these. In the center of these islands are 10 tall obsidian pillars- each with an odd crystal that contains healing abilities, but only for The Enderdragon. 

Underneath the islands of the end is an endless void of darkness. It is unknown what could possibly be down there. Those who have tried to find out have never returned. 

Personality: 

In the legends, The Enderdragon is painted as an angry, vindictive, and spiteful dragon who wants nothing more than to watch humanity burn.

The Goddess of Magic - Alita 

General Information:

Alita is the keeper of all the different types of magic. There is Protection Magic, Elemental Magic, Combat Magic, Enchantments, and Necromancy. Alita is the higher power that can control all of these types of magic over others, and because of this is considered very dangerous. She can grant magic to people if they sacrifice something of great value. If she gives you magic then your spells will always appear as pure black.

Alita can also freely travel through the different dimensions - The Overworld, The Nether, and The End. She also creates permanent portals that are scattered all throughout the world. One of these portals is The Stronghold - which is a permanent portal to The End. It is unknown where others may be.

Alita is also the mother to all Kitsune, each born under a different type of magic. Kitsune are made to help Alita watch over the Overworld since she lives deep underground in The Nether. However, it is not uncommon for Kitsune to diverge from this purpose and instead do their own thing. Alita does not see a problem with this, since not only can she freely make new ones, but if she really needs to she can force her will onto the Kitsune that rebel against her wishes. 

Appearance:

Alita appears to be wearing an elegant masquerade mask that looks like a peacock. You can barely see one white eye and a small beak peeking out from the mask. Nobody, except for a few other gods, knows what she looks like under the mask. Anyone who has seen does not remember. Alita generally appears to be avian-like, being part Peacock. She has peacock tail feathers that fan up whenever she gets angry. However, the eyes seem a little too real, and people have reported getting headaches from looking at them for too long. Over her body is a beautiful silk purple dress with silver accents on the ends. She also wears many different rings and necklaces that have been given to her. 

Floating around her are five multichromatic flaming orbs that flash different colors. Each one stands for a different type of magic. Protection magic is represented by an icy blue, Elemental Magic flashes between red, dark blue, and light green depending on the element, Combat Magic is represented by royal purple, Enchantments is represented by orange, and Necromancy is represented by a dark green.

Where they live: 

Alita lives very deep underground in the nether, in the darkest caves surrounded by bubbling lava. Various bones decorate the entrance to her cave and she has a massive throne made of gold.  

Personality: 

Alita is described as the cruelest of the gods. While Aperio may mess with fate, that is their job and they ultimately keep some semblance of balance. Alita will play games with the mortals who dare to visit her simply for the fun of it. She is very playful and likes to toy with people, forcing them to make extremely difficult decisions and pay the price for their hubris. 

Alita can be won over with attention and praise however. She adores it when people grovel and give her positive attention just for a silly favor. While she may not often go out into the world, Alita is always open to visitors of any kind. After all, the visitors are often very entertaining. 

The Titan of War, also known as The Blood God - Sanguineous 

General Information:

Not much is known about the Blood God. He has mostly been lost to ancient legend. They say he was an old titan that became more powerful the more he killed. So, he became power hungry and so full of bloodlust that he attempted to wipe out all life on Earth. Because of this, he was killed by Moíra, Avus and Apeiro. His name is only known from old tapestries and ancient texts; Sanguineous.

Some say that he is not dead, but is simply resting for the right time to strike again. Some say his bones are what made the Multi Ossa mountain range. Some say that his presence can still be felt to this day. Some people do know that those who have been touched by his presence have pure red eyes. Other rumours tell of pockets of underground lakes that still hold the old Titan’s own blood. There are whispers that those pockets hold unimaginable power, if only someone could find and harness them. 

Appearance:

Old paintings and tapestries depict the Blood God as a creature made purely of bone - but only an upper body up. His chest is shown to be a human skeleton, with the hands mutated into large claws. His head, however, is depicted as a large ram skull, with humongus black horns and glowing red eyes. Sometimes, he is depicted holding a large netherite axe which he attempted to split the earth with.

Where they live: 

Since the Blood God is dead, he does not live anywhere. When he was alive he did not live in any particular place. He simply wandered the Overworld.

Personality: 

The only thing known is that he wanted nothing but for blood to be spilt from each end of the earth. 

#not an ask #lore dump #gods #Avus Tempus #Apeiro #Moíra #The Enderdragon #Alita #The Blood God #Sanguineous

[baoshan-sanren]

Chapter 6

of the wwx emperor au which I’m thinking about calling Emperor Wei WuXian and his Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Birthday

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

It is not easy to slip away from watchful eyes in between the greeting ceremony and the Sect Leader meeting, but with a little bit of help from HuaiSang, Wei Ying manages. 

He had needed to shed his conspicuous outer robe, and convince A-Sang to wear the thing all the way back to the Imperial chambers, but he is certain that no one will notice. HuaiSang is fairly skilled at pretending to be the Emperor by now, and Wei Ying, with his hair loosely tied and his plain black inner robe, no longer looks like an Emperor.  

Still, every time he encounters his own guards, he bows his head low and keeps his distance. Madam Yu had been terrifyingly clear about all the ways she can make his life difficult if he were to neglect his duties for the next seven days.

Wei Ying has no intention of neglecting any of them. He simply has other priorities, equally as important, that she does not, and would not understand.  

He manages to turn the corner at the Six Fans Pavilion without attracting any notice, and quickens his steps, thinking himself in the clear. There are no guards stationed between the Pavilion and the South Lakes courtyard, at least not in the daylight hours. Only three years ago, this had been the heaviest guarded section of the Immortal Mountain City. But Wei Ying had chipped away at that, little by little, month by month, wheedling and cajoling, and moving guard posts himself when no one was looking. As a result, the South Lakes courtyard is the most peaceful place in the Immortal Mountain, and the time spent underneath its plum trees, uninterrupted by patrols, seems to move at its own pace.

“Wei WuXian!”

He freezes, then whips around with a sheepish smile, “It is not what it looks like.”

“It looks like the Emperor is running away from the Sect Leader meeting in nothing but his inner robes,” Jiang Cheng says, “But I am curious to find out what you would call it.”

Wei Ying can see Madam Yu in every inch of Jiang Cheng’s appearance. The heavy hair ornament that Wei Ying knows for a fact will give Jiang Cheng a tension headache by midday. The severely cut outer robe, slightly too tight across the shoulders, when Jiang Cheng hates having his sword arm restricted. The heavy embroidery along the bottom hem which weighs everything else down, an unnecessary burden for the sake of appearance.

Sometimes Wei Ying forgets that Jiang Cheng’s world can be as restrictive as his own. It is easy to forget, especially when A-Sang’s world barely has any restrictions at all.

“I am not running away,” Wei Ying says firmly, “the meeting does not start for another hour. And I promised A-Yuan I would see him on my birthday.”

“You could have had him brought to you, instead of running around half-dressed,” Jiang Cheng points out.

“You want me to have a Wen child delivered to the Iron Palm Palace. The Palace currently occupied by eleven sect leaders and thirty-six clan leaders, who are already starting rumors as to why the Wen Sect had opted not to show.”

Jiang Cheng’s jaw clenches, “You promised.”

“I promised not to miss a single meeting, and I will not. I have an hour. Come with me. You can make sure I leave on time.”

“Am I your babysitter now? Do you not know how to keep track of time?”

“The Emperor cannot be a slave to time,” Wei Ying grins.

“The Emperor needs a good beating,” Jiang Cheng grumbles.

But even as he is complaining, he has already fallen in by Wei Ying’s side. And although he grumbles all the way to the South Lakes courtyard, the tension in his shoulders seems to unwind little by little.

Just as she does on every sunny day, Granny Wen has set up her table in the courtyard, partially shaded by the heavy canopy of branches. Patches of cloth covered with drying herbs form a checkered pattern across the dirt, and Wei Ying carefully makes his way between them, the thick scents of saffron and thyme making his eyes water. Jiang Cheng cannot move as quickly, his ridiculous robes threatening to sweep up every herb in sight. Still, he lifts the excess material, and for once, does not complain. Wei Ying very much hopes that Wen Qing is around, because this sort of a behavior deserves a reward.

Granny Wen sees them coming, and narrows her eyes.

“Your Majesty has a Sect Leader meeting to attend,” she says the moment they are in earshot, “And you, Young Master, look like a peacock. Did your mother dress you again?”

Jiang Cheng splutters, and Wei Ying waves his arms in the air to attract her attention, “I only want to see A-Yuan for a moment. I am heading to the meeting right after.”

“He is inside,” she shifts so she can squint at Jiang Cheng over Wei Ying’s shoulder, “If you manage to get out of that robe without tearing it, bring it to me after. I can let out the shoulders.”

“The robe is fine,” Jiang Cheng says through clenched teeth.

“Okay!” Wei Ying says, “Thank you, Granny! We are going in.”

He grabs Jiang Cheng’s sleeve to pull him across the courtyard, but before they had made it two steps, the door is sliding open, A-Yuan propelling himself down the steps.

“Gege!”

Wei Ying grabs him at half-run, and tosses him up in the air. A-Yuan shrieks in delight, so Wei Ying does it again and again, until Wen Qing comes out to scold them both for the noise.

Between A-Yuan trying to clamber onto Wei Ying’s shoulders, and Jiang Cheng trying to greet Wen Qing properly over the A-Yuan’s delighted screams, and Wen Qing trying to yell to Granny that the tea is ready, it takes a long time for all of them to make it inside. Once they do, however, A-Yuan runs to get the present he had made, and Wei Ying immediately turns to Wen Qing.

“I am sure my uncle has already asked, but--“

“There have been no messages from the Nightless City,” she says, “I can only speculate. They have sent twelve cultivators with your gift, so another open rebellion seems unlikely, but--“ she lowers her voice as A-Yuans thundering steps become louder, “Granny says you need to be careful nonetheless.”

“Careful? Of what?”

She shrugs and says no more.    

A-Yuan runs back in, clutching a large grass butterfly, and immediately launches into an explanation of how he and Wen Ning had made the butterfly all by themselves, and how the first two had fallen apart, and how the third had gotten eaten by a bear.

Wei Ying raises his eyebrows at Wen Qing.

“Granny sat on it,” she mouths soundlessly.

They had wanted to make more than one, but Wen Ning had said that the Emperor is going to get a lot of presents, and will have nowhere to keep them. So they made one big one, but still small enough to fit in Wei Ying’s sleeve.

Wei Ying’s inner robe has no sleeve pockets, but he still has a pouch tied to his belt, and the butterfly fits without any trouble. He thanks A-Yuan, who is practically glowing, and wistfully thinks of his normal day routine, when he could just scoop A-Yuan up and take him back to his palace for the midday meal. Instead, he hardly has time to finish his tea before Jiang Cheng is nudging him to go.

A-Yuan runs out ahead of them, but Wen Qing stops Wei Ying at door, “Uncle Four will stay in YiLing, in case any messages come. Wen Ning is with him. You should always be careful, but do not worry.”

“I never worry,” Wei Ying grins, “I have Jiang Cheng to protect me, and you to heal me if someone sticks a sword in my back. What is there to worry about?”

It is extremely cute that they both manage to roll their eyes at the same time, but Wei Ying does not bother pointing it out. He thinks it will only make them angry.

#the untamed #cql #mdzs #what's the ship name for #jiang cheng x wen qing #wwx emperor au #ficlet #m #i'm about to start chapter 12 #or 13 if it turns out 10 is just too damn long #but these are all very good things #idk if there'll be a war in this fic #but it occurred to me that wwx wouldn't fight in it anyway #which is good because war strategy is exhausting to write #we'll see #i say i know where the fic is going but i always mean that in like v e r y loose terms #lmao #thank you for all the nice comments guys #ily to death

[artificialqueens]

When We Went From Friends to This, Part 1: Week 1 (Branjie) - Writworm42

A/N: Fic summary: At the start of their first year of college, roomies Brooke and Vanessa have to quarantine together for two weeks. Fourteen days is a lot of time to bond, but it’s also a lot of time for things to get complicated.

For the lovely Ortega–merry super belated Christmas <3 Thank you Holtz for betaing & suggesting a song for the title, Bean for answering my questions about whether UK stereotypes are true, and Ortega for being patient fdhsjkf

Title from Paper Rings by Taylor Swift

TW for implied weed use

Day 1

“I still can’t believe you gotta go in-person to all these classes, you sure there ain’t a Zoom option?”

Vanessa snorts, and she’s pretty sure that Silky can hear her roll her eyes on the other end of the line. “For dance majors? Bitch, you know that ain’t gonna work.”

But Silky is too stubborn to be fazed by common sense. Instead, her voice gets a little more urgent. “We’re only first year. Start out with something that doesn’t need to be done in-person, then switch majors to dance once this is all over. C’mon, I can’t have my bestie dying Miss ‘Rona here!”

“Christ, you sound like my mom.” Vanessa huffs. “Look, the uni is being very careful, okay? Why else do you think I gotta quarantine for two weeks ahead of the start of term? Plus all clubs have been suspended and meals and showers are booked with time slots for each room. I’m literally seeing no one except the people in my classes and the bitch I’m sleeping next to.”

“But—“

“Listen, I’m at the dorm now, so I gotta go. I’ll call you later, alright?”

“Bye.” Silky’s begrudging send-off brings a flash of guilt to Vanessa’s chest, but only for a moment. Pushing her feelings aside, she hip-checks the door to the dorm building, trying to make her way inside without disrupting the large box she’s holding with one arm or the suitcase she’s trailing behind her with the other.

“Hi, I’m Vanessa Mateo, I think I’m supposed to be room 96?”

The suspiciously stoned-looking guy at the front desk barely looks up from the computer as he slides the keycard across his desk, and at first, Vanessa hovers, waiting for him to launch into a spiel about rules, but a moment passes without him saying anything, so she surges on. The building is a bit of a maze, its cement walls cold and drab despite the colourful posters plastered across it in a desperate attempt to make it more hospitable. By the time she finally reaches her room, she’s almost grateful that she’ll have to stay in it 24/7, given the impression the building and staff have left so far. No matter, though, right now, all she wants is to put down what she’s carrying and collapse onto her bed.

She shifts uncomfortably for a moment, trying to balance her box while also maneuvering her card towards the keypad, but the effort is unsuccessful–when she finally manages to tap the card, she’s met with another obstacle, having to actually open the door without any free arms.

It’s probably not the best impression to kick the door open and promptly drop almost all of your stuff before falling on top of it. Scratch that, it’s definitely not the best impression. Especially when Vanessa looks up at the owner of the voice that’s holding back laughter, asking if she needs help in a soft, calm twang.

Her roommate is tall, blonde, and nothing short of gorgeous. And even as she makes a motion as simple as offering a hand, Vanessa can tell that this girl is the picture of poise and grace.

“What’s your name?” The girl watches with piercing eyes as Vanessa dusts herself off, fighting off a fierce blush as she straightens up and catches her breath.

“Vanessa, but my friends call me Vanjie.” She extends a hand again, and this time, the girl seems rather shy as she takes it, nervously brushing a piece of hair behind her ear.

Huh.

“Nice to meet you, Vanessa. I’m Brooke.”

Day 2

Brooke, as it turns out, is the polar opposite of Vanessa–quiet and reserved, so introverted that Vanessa has to wrestle information out of her. What Vanessa learns about her is interesting - she’s a dance major too, she’s from Toronto, she decided to study here because she wants RAD training as well as to get trained in other styles. She plans to minor in costume design, having an affinity for and attraction to any pattern that involves leather or lace (a kinky detail that Vanessa, much to her shame and embarrassment, files away hungrily). She has two cats back home, Apollo and Henry, that she misses terribly. Everything else Vanessa knows, though, had to be acquired sneakily over their first night together, more observation and speculation than actually asking. Like how Brooke must be a fan of Schitt’s Creek , given that she put out a ‘ fold in the cheese ’ sign on her desk. Or how Lana is probably her favourite artist, because she has a weird habit of not checking if her air pods are actually connected to the school’s shitty bluetooth network and it’s always the first couple notes of Summertime Sadness that play from her laptop before she catches her mistake. Or how her ass is one of the best Vanessa’s ever seen, because Brooke has no shame changing in front of her–

She strikes that part from her mind almost as quickly as she thinks it in the first place. The important thing is, she’s got to spend two weeks with only Brooke to keep her company, and if they stay in this silence, it’s going to get very awkward very soon.

“So… How d’you like Scotland so far?” Vanessa starts, grimacing internally at how stupid the question sounds. But Brooke doesn’t seem to mind; in fact, she smiles kindly as she looks up from her computer, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear again.

“To be honest, I haven’t really seen much of it… Pretty much came right here after I came off the plane.” Her smile turns apologetic as her face flushes pink, clearly self-conscious about the lacklustre answer. That’s okay, though; Vanessa can still work with it.

“Probably a long flight, huh? What’d you do to keep yourself entertained? Or are you a plane sleeper?” Vanessa adds with a teasing grin, and much to her delight, Brooke laughs.

“Nah, I can never sleep on planes. Unless I knock myself out with Gravol or something, at least.” Brooke chuckles, giving a small wink. “I just read a bit, then the airline showed The Notebook, so I watched that.”

“I love that movie!” Vanessa gasps, “I swear I’ve probably seen it, like, three thousand times. It’s just so–”

“Romantic!” Brooke finishes. “The poor guy next to me must have hated me for all the crying I did.”

Her eyes are alight with excitement, and Vanessa can’t help but pick up on it, because finally , the perfect topic, and Brooke likes Vanessa’s favourite movie, and maybe she likes other stuff that Vanessa likes, and they can talk about that together, and–

“So what’s your favourite scene?” Brooke asks eagerly, and Vanessa claps her hands over her face.

“That’s the worst question to ask me, bitch!” Vanessa groans, but grins behind her hands when Brooke laughs, a string of apologies flowing between giggles.

“Sorry, sorry, I should’ve known.” Brooke puts her hands up in mock surrender. “Too many to choose, right?”

“Right.” Vanessa giggles a little too. “Although…” she brings herself up on her elbows as soon as the idea hits her, and for some reason, her heart skips a beat as she formulates the question, a rare flash of nerves hitting her square in the chest.

“Maybe a rewatch would be a good reminder?” Before she can verbalize what she’s thinking, Brooke beats her to the question, blushing again and chewing on her lip.

It’s cute, how shy she is, and Vanessa makes a mental note that she’ll have to help her new roomie break herself of those habits.

“Yeah, lets.” Vanessa smiles warmly, sliding off her bed to grab her laptop from her desk. “Here, we can use my computer.”

She’s only just grabbed the computer and turned around when she falters, realizing with a sinking dread what decision is next.

Either she has to invite Brooke onto her bed, or Brooke has to make room on hers.

It’s just a bed, it’s just a bed, it’s not like you’re inviting her to snog, it’s just sitting down to watch a movie…  

So maybe Vanessa’s never had anyone but her friends lounge on her bed before, and her friends certainly don’t make her feel as nervous as Brooke does. Maybe Vanessa’s bed is a little small and Brooke is a little pretty, and the thought of being that close together makes her mouth go dry. And maybe the sudden uncertainty in Brooke’s eyes, too, is imagined, or else doesn’t mean anything that Vanessa thinks it could mean, rejection or reciprocation or suspicion of what Vanessa’s feeling. None of that changes anything right now, because Brooke is smiling again, tapping the space beside her bed to beckon Vanessa over.

“C’mon, let’s watch. If you want, we can even try to find the director’s cut.”

Day 3

Vanessa’s fast-developing fascination with Brooke’s ass isn’t helped by the sight of Brooke stretching on the floor that greets her as she comes back from her shower.

“Oh, hey!” Brooke lifts her leg up into a needle stance, peering between her legs before shifting her weight onto one hand and waving to Vanessa with the other. Her hair is still wet from her turn in the showers, and her current position is causing stray drops of water to trickle onto her arms, making it all too easy for Vanessa to give into temptation and watch as the droplets course over each one of Brooke’s muscles.

Bloody Hell. Vanessa’s got to do a better job of keeping her hormones under control.

“Hey yourself.” She tries to keep her voice casual as she grabs a pair of PJs from her bedside drawer, turning away from Brooke to change.

It’s strange. Vanessa never used to be as shy as she feels now, self-conscious of her nakedness as she drops her robe and begins to re-dress. A few months ago, this would’ve been no problem at all; to be honest, she’s not sure it would be now if she had a different roommate. But with Brooke next to her, watching her or not watching her at all (she can’t decide what’s worse, really), it’s different. She can’t help but wonder what she must look like, what Brooke must see if she’s actually looking. What does it feel like, being in Brooke’s head? What does everything seem, looking through Brooke’s eyes?

But Brooke is comfortable changing around her, and even though there’s no actual rule that says so, Vanessa feels obligated to feel comfortable, too. Partially because if it’s a non-issue, then feeling embarrassed about it might fade. And if that fades, then so will the way she feels every time she lays eyes on Brooke at all.

Right?

Vanessa whips around quickly, the sudden, eerie feeling of being watched making her forget that she doesn’t have a shirt on yet.

“ Christ! ” Brooke hits the floor with a thud, flushing beet red as she scrambles to cover her eyes. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to see–”

“I’ve seen yours, now you get to see mine.” Vanessa rolls her eyes and laughs, hoping that the light tone and faint smirk she forces herself to slap on disguises how secretly mortified she feels. And thankfully, the comment does work; the redness dissipates from Brooke’s face, and she giggles a little, though her gaze stays firmly planted on the ground until Vanessa slides on her t-shirt. Just like that, the awkwardness fades from the air, and things are back to business as usual as Vanessa begins to comb out her hair. Brooke finishes stretching, Vanessa goes to the half-bath to blow her hair dry. Brooke sits at her desk and types intently, Vanessa tries not to peek over Brooke’s shoulder to see who she’s talking to. Brooke stretches out on her bed to look at her phone, and Vanessa does the same to play around on hers.

“Oh, it’s our turn for dinner.” A reminder notification at the top of Vanessa’s screen alerts her to the time, and she shuffles up to slide on shoes and get going, only remembering what she’s wearing at the last minute.

“Gimme a second, we can go out like that together.” Brooke grins, swiping yet another strand of hair behind her ear as she drops her sweatpants and swaps them for a pair of pajama pants.

“Are you sure?” Vanessa frowns, but Brooke just shrugs, a wry smile spreading on her face.

“I’ve seen yours, now you get to see mine.”

Day 4

They do morning stretches together the next day, and Vanessa has to admit that lust gets pushed aside by jealousy the minute they slide into the splits. Vanessa can do them, even if she hates them–it’s not that she can’t. It’s not even that she’s inflexible, she wouldn’t have survived in dance up until now if she were. But Brooke? That girl is on a whole other level. She slides into the splits with no effort at all, falling into position almost instantly and yet extremely gracefully, then does the one thing Vanessa hates, because it’s the one stretch she can’t do. She grabs a high foam block and puts it under her front foot. And then, just when Vanessa thinks she can’t get shown up even worse, Brooke grabs a second block and slides that under, too.

God, Vanessa wishes she could hate Brooke. But Brooke is too sweet, too kind, and too encouraging to even hold her pretzel-like tendencies against her, especially when she turns to Vanessa and taps her foot, offers her tips on how to get herself to that level of flexibility.

Vanessa tries to tell herself that the way Brooke’s eyes seem to linger on her every few minutes is just that generosity, a teacher monitoring her pupil. But even after Brooke helps Vanessa slide a small book under her foot, elevating her leg just enough, the lingering continues, and it’s hard not to let wishful thinking–at least, she thinks that’s what it is–take over. And that feeling only gets stronger as they move to their next stretch, one where they’re toe to toe with their legs spread wide and Brooke is grabbing Vanessa’s hands to pull her hardly an inch away from her chest.

Is it just Vanessa, or is Brooke blushing? And is it just Vanessa, or are Brooke’s hands just a little sweaty under their softness, warm and gentle as if they’re trying to hold Vanessa with as much tenderness as they can? And is it just Vanessa, or has Brooke’s chest gone still, her breathing stopped until Vanessa straightens out again?

“Your turn.” Vanessa offers, pulling Brooke into the position she’d just been in, and from the way Brooke comes to a harsh, sudden, stiff stop, but her muscles don’t shake and her breathing doesn’t change, Vanessa can tell she’s holding back. Almost as if she doesn’t want to get too close.

Vanessa’s imagining it. She has to be imagining it. There’s no other explanation, not a heterosexual one, and Brooke is…

Come to think of it, Vanessa doesn’t know for sure. But she can’t ask, not now; it would be too strange. So instead, she pulls Brooke forward sharply, resisting the urge to giggle when the blonde grunts in surprise at her strength.

“No holding back.” Vanessa shakes her head, smiling far too warmly for Brooke not to know what this is really about. “You can trust me, okay?”

“Okay.” Brooke smiles up at her, and then her muscles relax, and everything feels back to normal.

Day 5

“Truth or dare?”

Brooke turns to look at Vanessa, shifting to sit up as she smiles dubiously. They’re lying on Brooke’s bed together, pressed up against each other in an attempt to both fit in the small space of the double underneath the fuzzy, tickly cushion of Brooke’s top blanket. Vanessa rolls her eyes at Brooke’s skepticism, rolling onto her back to look up at her, grin wide on her face.

“C’mon, you know you want to. We can scroll Reddit later. Truth or dare?”

“Um…” Brooke crinkles her nose as she thinks, and Vanessa has to swallow the thought of how cute the blonde looks like that.

Although admittedly, the fact that she’s starting to hope Brooke keeps thinking isn’t just so she can watch the way Brooke’s brow furrows and muse quietly to herself about how seriously Brooke is taking this choice. Rather, it’s because she knows what she wants Brooke to pick, and the longer Brooke thinks, the more opportunity there is for Vanessa to hope she’ll pick up on the psychic signals she’s trying to send her.

Pick truth, pick truth, pick truth…

“Dare. But I’m not licking anything and I’m not going anywhere naked.”

Damnit.

Vanessa frowns, chewing on her lip as she tries frantically to think of a dare she can ask Brooke to do. It has to be appropriate, obviously, nothing too crazy like she might ask of Silky or her other, closer friends. But it can’t be boring, either—-if there’s one thing Vanessa doesn’t want to be in Brooke’s eyes, it’s boring.

Then, she thinks of the perfect thing. Something that might get at her truth question, that isn’t too high-stakes but definitely still has a bit of an ‘oh shit’ factor—exactly what you want from a dare.

“Dare you to prank call your last ex. On speaker. ” Vanessa smiles triumphantly, sticking out her tongue to tease her roommate. It’s foolproof—depending on the voice, Vanessa will know who Brooke has dated. And if she’s dating someone already, then surely she’ll say that, since admitting it is no problem.

Only, from Brooke’s face, there’s definitely a problem.

“I don’t want to play anymore.” Brooke heaves herself up off the bed, face becoming stony and cold as her eyes cloud over with something that Vanessa can’t quite decipher. Something mixed with anger, sure, but also something…

Crap. Crap, crap, crap. The magnitude of what Vanessa’s just asked of her new friend hits her like a train, and she feels like both the dumbest and worst person in the world at once. She called Brooke out, put her on the spot, and if she is queer? Pretty much just asked her to out herself. Which, unlike someone like Vanessa, who has a pan flag on her desk, not everyone is willing to do.

Brooke isn’t just feeling cornered, she’s feeling afraid.

“Aw, c’mon Brooke, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want—“

“I said I don’t want to play!” Brooke snaps.

There’s a beat, Vanessa’s own heartbeat the only thing she can hear amidst the crushing silence.

“Brooke—“ Vanessa tries again after a moment, her throat going dry as she tries to cut through the sudden tension, but Brooke just turns to her desk, scoops up her things and storms towards the door.

“I’m going for a walk. See you at dinner.”

She slams the door on her way out, and suddenly, getting an answer to Vanessa’s question doesn’t really matter anymore, because there’s no satisfaction in what a reaction that strong might mean. She drops her head in her hands, staying there for a moment before punching the mattress underneath her, rocketing up and grabbing her phone.

“Silk? Yeah, I’m okay, don’t worry, I just… I fucked up.”

Day 6

They don’t talk about it at dinner, nor afterwards. They don’t talk about it the next morning, not during their morning stretches or at breakfast, either. It’s not that they don’t talk; they say good morning, ask each other questions about what time breakfast is, what time Brooke is going to be on a call with her parents. But that’s about as far as it goes; Brooke sticks to business, asking and answering questions in as few words as possible and avoiding Vanessa’s gaze at all costs. It’s torture, the tension eating away at Vanessa’s mind and stinging in her chest. She fucked up, and she fucked up bad , and despite Silky’s advice, she’s not so sure she can fix this.

Still, she supposes it won’t hurt to try.

Brooke is in the shower when Vanessa decides to sneak out, purse over her shoulder and mind ready for a mission. There’s a supermarket open within walking distance of the uni right now, and technically, she’s not supposed to leave campus at all except for emergencies. Which this is, so it should be okay, right? At least, that’s what she’ll say if she gets caught. She’ll have to be fast, and sneaky, and careful not to run into anyone who might ask where she’s going. Come to think of it, she hasn’t been for a walk on the grounds yet, not since arriving–how will it work? Will she have to plan a route? Give it to the front desk? Get a pass or something, to make sure she comes back within the allotted time? This could be dangerous, very dangerous…

“If you’re gonna go to the shop, can you get me a pack of cigs?” The stoner at the front desk doesn’t even bother looking up from whatever he’s doing on the computer as she tries to sneak by, stopping in her tracks at his voice.

Christ, really?

“Sure, whatever.” Vanessa rolls her eyes, a little irritated at how easy this actually is. So much for danger and adventure.

She comes back about an hour later, throws the guy his pack and launches that he owes her eleven over her shoulder, and skips back into her room with a jumbo bag of ketchup Lays in her knapsack.

“Peace offering?” Vanessa grins down at Brooke as the blonde’s mouth drops open first in surprise, then delight as she snatches the snack from Vanessa’s hands.

“Where did you find these?” Brooke squeals with delight as she tears the bag open, breathing in the sharp, slightly-sour smell that makes Vanessa’s nose wrinkle. Still, seeing the look of utter joy on Brooke’s face makes Vanessa so happy that she can’t help but smile, too.

“International aisle.” Vanessa sits on the edge of her bed proudly. “Figured you might like them, seeing as you always say you’re craving them.” She winks, and Brooke rolls her eyes, but giggles despite herself. But the moment passes as soon as it had come, and then they settle into silence again.

Come on, Vanessa. Just face the music. Apologize. She deserves that from you. Vanessa bites her lip, her hands curling into fists as she tries to force her heartbeat even again, because the longer the silence goes on, the more awkward it gets, the more she realizes that it’s now or never for her to make things right.

“Brooke–”

“We don’t have to talk about it.” Brooke says quietly, her voice flat and lifeless and… scared, almost. Vanessa sucks in a breath, her chest sinking as she realizes what’s going on.

“Well… Do you want to?” Vanessa prods, but Brooke doesn’t even look up from the bag of crisps, which suddenly seem to be the most interesting thing in the world despite the dullness in the blonde’s eyes.

“Honestly, I’d rather we didn’t.” When she finally speaks up, her voice is barely above a whisper, and it’s enough to make Vanessa’s heart break.

Not just because she’s lost her chance to apologize–because she knows that tone, knows that look. Knows the hesitancy and caution behind it, the anxiety and the feeling of being trapped and overwhelmed. Knows what kind of revelation that voice and that look are hiding, and how the information Brooke is trying to avoid isn’t actually set in stone yet.

Jesus, she’s fucked up way more than she thought she had.

“Okay.” Vanessa finally nods, sighing deeply. “But if you do… I’m here, okay?”

Brooke hesitates for a moment, but when she does look up, her eyes are full of a gratefulness that’s surprisingly warm. “Okay.”

This time, when silence falls, it’s not awkward, but full of resolution.

“So…” Brooke finally breaks it this time, a slow smile spreading on her face, “They just put up the newest season of The Bachelor online, wanna watch it? We got snacks, after all.” Brooke waves her bag in the air, and Vanessa smiles.

“Shove over, mate. I wanna see what kinda mess the girls are this year.”

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #college au #lesbian au #when we went from friends to this #writworm42

[felassan]

Tevinter Nights: Non-Solas major stuff

This is a rundown of the other major stuff in Tevinter Nights; big developments in Thedosian current events and significant new additions to the lore, things which are unrelated to Solas. Not speculation or theorizing, it’s intended as just a broadstrokes short-form report for ease of consumption. Organized into the major factions/groups. (The Solas motherpost is here.) Obvious spoiler warning for the whole book under the cut.

The Qunari and their invasion

The Antaam have invaded the south without the permission of the rest of the Qunari branches. Their efforts are somewhat hampered without the usual support of workers, healers etc. Small things aren’t going well like supply lines and ship repairs. They’re taking many prisoners and enslaving them in work-camps. With no Ben-Hassrath to judge or regulate, they’re intentionally giving mentally-lethal doses of qamek to all captured bas mages. Small doses shackle the mind. Large doses completely break it and leave the recipient effectively lobotomized forever. Ben-Hassrath who investigated this are disappointed in the Antaam, believing they’re not acting in accordance with the Qun and that it’s these actions that are what threaten it. Although fractured and without the Ben-Hassrath the Antaam still have assassins. The Ben-Hassrath have been staying out of the war, remaining neutral on the sidelines. They do not work for hire but can be persuaded. The Antaam are agitating for the Ben-Hassrath to assist openly but they are remaining officially neutral and trying to blunt the Antaam’s strike. There’s also a new Darvaarad. Because the last one’s walls were ineffective (lol), this one is a ship; they want to keep it moving with speed and secrecy instead of fortifications. 

The invasion passes Ventus and moves into Rivain. Many Tevinter relics were uncovered and sent rolling thanks to the Antaam chaos in the north. The Antaam kicked up all sorts of ancient, dangerous objects. Many women and children have been injured in the northern battles between Tevinter and the Antaam and several makeshift hospitals have sprung up. The invasion has the southern nations on edge. It also seems to be a certainty that they’re going to invade Antiva (see below in the section about Antiva and the Crows). The southerners assumed lack of workers and priests would hobble the Antaam but they were wrong, those Qunari would have been a moderating influence. We’re told that in Tevinter the Antaam have crushed the Vint opposition in the east and that it’s possible everything east of Vyrantium will be under their control inside a year, and northern Antiva as well. Some Ben-Hassrath infiltrated the Archon’s palace to steal an artifact. Interestingly at one point some Antaam led by Rasaan appears and she refers to them as “her” Antaam. Attention is drawn to this.

The Dalish

Some intrepid Dalish elves snuck into Ventus as it fell to steal info about the Qunari’s invasion plans. They succeed and dispatch a messenger to warn the clans in/beyond Rivain before the Qunari land there. We learn a new clan name, Oranavra. This clan sell their goods. At one point recently a group of them - a family - were wiped out by Vint soldiers on the order of a Magister. The clan saved up money and hire a Crow to kill those involved. The Crow succeeds. The Magister had also stolen an ironbark halla from the clan, which was a symbol of Ghilan’nain. The clan don’t remember how they came to own it, but they believed that as long as they kept it safe, the goddess would protect them and guide them to new fertile lands to grow food, areas to hunt and beautiful lands in which to raise their children. The Crow they hire has a helper whose uncle is in the clan - the Crow is the helper’s mistress and his cousins are Dalish. Tevinter soldiers, it seems, regularly scour the countryside for Dalish to drive away/eradicate. Some have truly horrendous views concerning them.

The Executors

An Executor appears at a meeting with Carta, Mortalitasi and Inquisition. It speaks in italics. For their opinions on and interactions with Solas, go to the Solas post. It’s unclear whether it’s male, female or other, or young or old. It’s covered head to toe in leather gloves and dark robes of Vyrantium samite with a thin mesh covering the face. Underneath the hood it’s featureless black. The robes are trimmed in an unknown pattern. It doesn’t appear to drink. A faint whiff of the ocean and something beyond it comes from its robes. Its voice is less a voice than the idea of a voice, rendered acceptably but no more. Its words carry a weight that made a drink ripple. At one point it comments another char stinks of lies and fear. It’s not clear if it is a mage or not.

The Wardens and darkspawn

The Wardens have discovered a new kind of darkspawn in Hormok Thaig which is ancient and below a mountain near a Nevarran forest. Some have extra heads and limbs or the wrong parts attached, like a genlock with a hurlock head. Others have weird parts like avian skulls, scorpion tails, wings, snake heads for fists. They’re also strangely cunning. In the same place the Wardens also discovered twisted grotesqueries like a halla with a serpent’s maw and varterral legs and a giant centipede creature whose ‘head’ is the fucked up fused torso of a missing Warden. The creature refers to a “she” and “her”. The origin of all this stuff is a big pool of gross gray liquid. Above a huge lyrium crystal is suspended glowing green. Streams of energy flow from it into the pool. Darkspawn walk in, the water flows round them and when the cocoon shatters another fucked up darkspawn comes out. The pool also changes people who drink from it, like the lost Warden was forced to do. This is an army, but not of darkspawn, of something worse. This stuff is going on under 11 other mountains too.

Recently a summons has called available Wardens to Weisshaupt Fortress.

Nevarra and the Mortalitasi

Every mage in Nevarra is part of the Mortalitasi. They are a group that train the gifted in the mysteries of magic and serve as Nevarra’s arcane protectors and priests. They believe that when someone dies a spirit is pushed out of the Fade into our world. In exchange they invite those spirits to inhabit the empty bodies left behind. This is common orthodoxy for the Nevarran populace. Nevarrans believe the Grand Necropolis is a fitting resting place for the bodies of all good souls who go to the Maker. Mortalitasi spend most of their time in or around the Necropolis. They rarely go into Nevarra City unless tending to a death. Mortalitasi raise spirits in the dead to do menial chores for them. Other spirits give consent to inhabit the dead and work for the death mages in roles such as librarians. The Mortalitasi have a branch called the Mourn Watch, a select group within and an old fraternity. Watchers’ jobs are to serve as elite guardians, keepers of the Necropolis. They have absolute authority over funerary dead. They assist both the dead and the living and help confused/unbalanced spirits resolve themselves, dealing with magic gone awry. Another sect is the Guides of the Path who shepherd the corpses. Yet another sect are described as the “truest” mages as they bind spirits and the Fade and in doing so can bend the world beneath to their will. A bunch of Nevarrans think the Mortalitasi were sent to save the kingdom from civil war. Another bunch of them think they do “secret rituals” and “mind-control experiments”. Many Nevarrans have great respect for the Mortalitasi. Prior lore suggested the Mortalitasi rule through influencing the King, whose mind is weak. This is confirmed. They rule the king with a small investment of time and through him rule others. This is in contrast to Tevinter Magisters who rule directly. 

The Necropolis is full of weird and wonderful shit and has amazing bewildering architecture. Public gardens, trees in sunless tunnels, ornate carvings, open-air mausoleums, walking dead, uncatalogued dead-creature things, streams. Flowering Gates, a bridge made of giants’ bones, a maze of mirrors, spacious tombs, exotic terrors. Its lower halls are not always in the same place at the same time. Some parts of it are forbidden even to the dead. Some parts are very old, even to the Tower Age. 

In Nevarra the royal families have tumultuous histories and ever-changing status in the King’s court. There’s currently so much tension between the Nevarran royal families that it wouldn’t take much to tip the whole country into chaos. At present, the centuries-old feud between the Van Markhams and the Pentaghasts is the most imporant thing going on to most Nevarrans. When the King dies with no successor, the Markham-Pentaghast conflict will probably become more than just a squabble over the heir in spirited discussions behind closed doors. They might drag their war into the streets. Some nobles are worried that the empty throne might prompt Mortalitasi to slither into it. Other noble houses are doing what they can to increase their current standing in the court also, including assassinating rivals. We come across one plot where a noble wanted to take down the Mortalitasi, and a Mortalitasi who thinks it’s time for them to intervene and step in to rule the country directly.

New spirit lore: complex/’complete’ entities in Cole-like situations are rare. Some Mortalitasi argue these ‘higher dead’ still have their mortal souls. Others say this is impossible and that these entities are actually caught between 2 opposing spirits e.g. anger and curiosity. Whatever the case they are unbalanced.

Elfy stuff

Arlathan Forest is full of old and powerful spirits. It’s also home to rare entities known as forest guardians, which are large quadrupedal structures made out of wood, stone, runes and lyrium. They have two lethal blade arms which they swing around in combat and may be powered by magic, but it is not clear. They are not usually hostile to elves in the forest but are shown responding aggressively to hostile Qunari.

Ghilan’nain is implicated historically in fucked up monster shit (see the Wardens section). Elven bas-reliefs and carvings are found which are eerie and disquieting and show elves with prison-ship aravels and insectile halla carting victims to what are essentially fucked-up-experiment-dungeons in mountains; elven mages doing horrid things; and contemptuous elven rulers over their terrified subjects. There’s also a repeating painting showing a person/supplicant, a priestess/queen and a monster. Each time it repeats the person and monster change and the priestess looks crueler. This painting appears to be OF elves, but IN dwarven style (done by dwarves). Curious.

Tevinter and the Venatori

There’s now an anti-slavery movement in Tevinter. Tevinter has a less than cordial relationship with Rivain. We meet a Tevinter mage who is a thief and one who is a private investigator. Tevinter is full of advanced magical marvels like floating buildings and barman-less bars, and magic use there is so common-place that defective magical lightning flasks (for example) are even just thrown out into the gutter. We hear of one mage healer who could attach a severed hand. There are chemist mages. One mage tried to perform a ritual to influence and direct the Fade against the Antaam so that demons, spirits and dreams would urge them back north. This was supposed to weaken the Qunari resolve and crumble the invasion, but he fails. Livius Erimond’s sister is involved in the Venatori (racist blood mages!). One especially effed up high-ranking Venatori has been using red lyrium to do horrid experiments on slaves to create ‘art’. This guy was in possession of one of the ancient elven artifacts that strengthen the Veil and is such a supremacist that he gets super triggered when he even hears a foreign language being spoken.

Corypheus wanted Tevinter reborn. He trusted Minrathous to be the jewel of his new world. He planned to return there after his victory in the south. After the fall of Cory, the Venatori cult lost its bite. A good number of cultists, who never admitted they were Venatori in the first place, distanced themselves from the whole affair. That doesn’t stop remaining loyalist fanatics from acting delusional and stirring up trouble. Some Venatori recruit others by saying they will end slavery. There are Venatori street prophets who try to spread the good word. It’s noted that it’s not illegal to be a cultist. Venatori believe that Tevinter was once glorious and is a lot shitter now, and want to rectify that, even though the old empire was even more corrupt and heartless than the present day. Some believe that Cory’s machinations live on in them. They think their gods would see them lifted and believe in their veins runs true Vint blood passed down from the dreamers. They still want to enter the Black City. They think Minrathous has lost its way and would give their lives for the glory of Tevinter reborn. The Loyal believe Cory’s fall is a test.

There are ancient Catacombs beneath Minrathous, old as the city itself, officially for storage in case of seige. Unofficially they hold many shady corners, forgotten places, and dark secrets. Weird pendants start turning up in the city. They are seals, round clay discs seated in polished black shell on gold chains. A long, thin 4-winged dragon is etched on the front, rising from a dark sea. They have blood magic enchantments on them and there’s 8 of them. There’s a man who looks at objects people don’t want others to know about. He realizes a pendant is blood magic but he says he hasn’t seen blood magic like this since Cory. This makes him scared and he clams up and refuses to study it any further, throwing the POV char out. It turns out the Venatori have been doing expeditions beneath Minrathous looking for a specific cave. The cave is hidden in the Catacombs and contains a trapped demon sealed beneath the city. The Venatori want to release it and have been unfolding the seal enchantments so they snap. They refer to the demon’s coming as “The Hour [of Minrathous’ return]”. Demon probably isn’t even the right word, it’s not like any demon Minrathous has fought before, and it’s something only a god or godlike figure could summon. It seems like the plan was originally for Cory to release it and then he could rebuild Tevinter. Then if Minrathous wasn’t ready to kneel, the demon would have made sure it did. Even though Cory is gone the Venatori wanted to proceed with this. Apparently releasing it will kill most of Minrathous and destroy the city.

About 30 Venatori attempt the release ritual, which involves blood magic sacrifice and a stone obelisk. There’s a strange sick buzzing in peoples’ heads and an “expansive need for emptiness” pervades the area. A formless shadow beneath moves at odds with the lights that cast it. The demon is described as “the edge of something deeper”. If it’s a demon at all, it’s older and larger and more nameless than any demon regular folk have heard of and so much worse. It’s implied the ‘demon’ doesn’t care about Minrathous/Tevinter glory and that the Venatori wouldn’t be able to control it. At one point someone stumbles into the shadow, it wraps around his wrists, he convulses and his body sinks into it. The Venatori’s attempt to release the thing is foiled and it’s sealed. Nobody talks about it because doing so admits the Venatori still have too much power. Some Venatori will face their crimes, others will claim they’re victims of blood-magic control, especially those with money. Sounds to me like the demon was maybe the Formless One, of the Forbidden Ones. Possibly a Forgotten One, remember the lore suggests a link between the 2 groups (Band of Three). Or maybe even a remaining old god, why is the seal pattern a weird 4-winged dragon? But the Formless One seems like the most likely candidate given the way it’s described and considering that it’s the only one of the Forbidden Ones left for us to encounter.

Tevinter Templars

The templars in Tevinter, unlike the rest of the world, lack the ability to stop magic. They’re only guards with fancy equipment doused in lyrium, often armed with swords or maces. It gives them chips the size of trees on their shoulders, and probably explains their surliness. They’re basically cops in shiny metal armor. A Tevinter mage in one bit wonders if the Tevinter templars could prove they’re worth the Chantry’s levies and hunt a monster plaguing Minrathous. Some mages think they’re useless. In Tevinter, templars only act when magic is used outside the law, except in special cases where a bribe makes it special or the mage-based justicars step in. If a job doesn’t need justicar attention or the templars want to consult a mage without being walked all over, they hire outside assistance like from PIs. Some of their offices/buildings seem cramped, it seems they’re not held in high respects by the Circles and aren’t allocated lots of resources. They have enchanted weapons made of Fade-touched metal and marked with the Circle’s seal designed to subdue mages, but in order to keep the mages happy they aren’t always allowed access to them. The weapons are assigned for specific and approved circumstances only. These weapons can shoots beam of light.

Antiva and the Crows

We meet old Crows who are still active in the field. Some of the Crow leaders are also old. The Crows are known for usually putting on a show and being bird-masked, ornate, flashy and jester-motley. The Crows are mostly heroes in Antiva. Antivans tend to romanticize them as freedom fighters. In the Towers Age they were hired to kill the top templars in retribution for them enacting the Right of Annulment and covering up the slaughter. Crows’ tattoos mark which house they belong to.

We learn the identities and names of the Eight Talons - a mix of men and women, old and young, humans and elves - and the names of the 8 houses. One of them is a bastard son of the Antivan king (his illegitimate children are given the choice of joining the Crows or living a life of luxury in exile). He sometimes briefs his father on Crow business. Another Talon is a lyrium addict. At 28 another is an elven woman who is the youngest Talon in history - to her, the Crows are family. There are various romantic entanglements and associated jealousies between some of the Talons. Between them on the business side of things are various plots, intrigues, deals, maneuvers for position etc. Houses can gain and lose ground/standing. Some of the Talons have rules like don’t kill the help/servants, unless they’re guilty. Rarely do the Talons meet in 1 location but a summit was called by the First Talon because the Qunari invasion has left them with no choice. Without an army, Antiva’s only line of defense is the Crows. If the Qunari attack, the Talons need to be a united front. The Talons attend the summit to plot a course of action and discuss the security of Antiva. Two of the Talons have recently run a lot of contracts together in Qunari-occupied Ventus and seen the dangers of the Qun first hand. They believe that if they present a united front between their houses, it will be easier to sway the other houses into an alliance. The Crows are also worried that if Vints and Qunari wipe each other out it will be bad for their business.

They know the Qunari will not just be satisfied with Tevinter. The Qunari invaded northern Antiva 200 years ago and that part of the country still bears the scars of this. The Talon of Arainai is an elf woman called Guili. She doesn’t often stand up to the others because her House lost face when Zevran failed the contract on the HoF’s life. Her position is still precarious after a long bloody battle back to the top. Crow Houses are sometimes referred to as “families”, sounding mafia-esque. Talons are supposed to be untouchable but at the summit several of them are assassinated one after the other. Antivan Crows don’t run so they stay to solve the crime. One Crow trick is an influencer serum that causes a warm feeling in a person and makes them feel safe, that they can say or do anything. It turns out 2 of the other Talons were engaged in secret (kept secret from the First Talon) to make an alliance between their houses. The First Talon would have never approved of this because united they could have overruled her, and they didn’t want to go to war against the Qunari. Before houses, masks and tattoos Crows were monks near Treviso. They poisoned a duke who was terrorizing a village. They were a group of individuals who did what was needed to be done to protect the Antivan people. Over the years, they’ve lost sight of that. Now, it’s all about family and blood instead of being a claw working as one.

It turns out one of the Talons had plotted to kill the others at the summit. They catch him out before he can complete the lot and assume he did it for money. He says he didn’t and disparages that it’s always about money for the Crows now, when in the beginning they were protectors who fought for Antiva, for the people. He feels they’ve chosen profit over patriotism somewhere along the way. The Qunari approached him and said if he killed the other 7 Talons their invasion of Antiva would be peaceful and the Antivans could keep their way of life without submitting to the Qun. He believed them because he believes Qunari honorable. One of the Talons who saw Ventus says there was no honor there. The guilty party says he made the deal so it would be different here. The First Talon asserts he made the deal to be the only house left, so he wouldn’t have anymore annoying contract-sharing or territorial disputes. He says that under one Talon at least they could stop squabbling and get things done and that Crows are nothing more than glorified mercs now. One of the Talons who was in Ventus says they do have standards and that he’s beneath them. They kill him. (There is also a reference to a former ninth house that used to exist and no longer does due to the ruthless First Talon.)

Now with half her Talons dead, Antiva is more vulnerable than ever. The remaining Talons settle in to come up with a plan to protect Antiva, knowing that the Qunari invasion of Antiva is now not an ‘if’ but a ‘when’. They want to be ready for any eventuality. The Qunari have struck a mighty first blow killing so many Talons but failed to finish the job, which is a fatal error. The remaining Talons inform the heirs to the now-empty Talon positions of what’s occurred and hope they’ll join their cause. The remaining Talons resolve that the Qunari will regret this and to show all of Thedas why no one messes with the Antivan Crows.

Elsewhere, someone mysterious has contracted the Crows to kill a bunch of prominent Venatori, 9 so far. Some of the Venatori are scared, particularly of a notorious Crow known as “the Demon”, who has been doing a lot of these contracts. He’s the great Lucanis Dellamorte, grandson of the First Talon. His cousin Illario is also a Crow. Lucanis is the rumored favorite to be heir to his house, but he doesn’t want it. The Venatori say they won’t cower to foreign mercenaries like the Crows. It’s implied the mysterious Crow-hirer/anonymous client is connected to elves as they gave the cousins info about a magical secret passage inside a statue of a vhenadahl to help them on their way. The passage is lit with veilfire and guarded by an elf in a scarlet coat who seems to be a mage. Lucanis knows some things about demons and the supernatural, and can tell when the Veil is thin. He’s somewhat sympathetic to elves/the downtrodden and has a sense of justice/morals despite being a Crow and gruff. He releases a bunch of elven slaves on a job and gets them to safety, his cousin chiding him that Crows aren’t revolutionaries. Lucanis thinks death is his calling and doesn’t want to quit. He is going to kill a bunch of other Venatori, and enjoys killing racist evil blood-mage supremacists for top dollar, but they now know he has a heart and plot to exploit his weaknesses.

The Fifth and Seventh Talons first appeared in the comic Dragon Age: Deception.

The Lords of Fortune

A new addition to the lore, Lords “beholden to Fortune”. They are a famed Rivaini guild of treasure hunters, dungeoneers and glory-seekers - roguish daring lucky scoundrels that live thrilling lives essentially, a level above ordinary thieves. The guild contains members of different races and genders. Members of all genders are “Lords”. Indiana Jones-esque, they take jobs and travel all over the world stealing and adventuring, and “specialize in pulling gems from the eyes of statues” from places like lost temples, dealing with ancient curses and resurrected beasts along the way. They’re the best treasure hunters in the world and in Rivain stories are told of their exploits. For an added cost they lead and protect/guard the softer people who hire them to do so on the expeditions. They usually wear colorful sashes, capes, pants, shirts, belts, scarves, charms, gold jewelry, ancient coins, trinkets they’ve found and trophies of their exploits - this is the the right and privilege of any Lord of Fortune that lasts a year or two. This practise is described as “wearing their expertise”. They also do things like infiltrating buildings and retrieving artifacts from rich collectors or which were stolen. They do jobs for a cut or to sell onto others. Some seem to pickpocket and take contracts killing monsters. Sometimes they operate in pairs or crews. They seem to put stock in ‘spending’ luck and in what ‘hand of cards’ they think they’ve recently been dealt. It seems like they’re known for usually completing their jobs with a flair for the dramatic/causing clamor. Many individual Lords seem to have different specialties and how they do their jobs differs for all of them. Some Lords steal an artifact from Starkhaven to sell to Vaea. (the Inquisition therefore have contact with the LoFs) It’s a big red amulet with great healing properties. it also seems to have anti-aging effects. It doesn’t work on the dead though. It seems like people from other countries can also join the LoFs.

Named Lords are ‘Hollix’, Elim, Bharv, Herold and Mateo. ‘Hollix’ (a pseudonym) is genderfluid/nonbinary or similar and a master of disguise; clothes, makeup, wigs, vocal changes, different genders, even different species i.e. human, elf etc. They are a former circus acrobat and use a saber and smoke pellets. Bharv is a dwarf nearing retirement with 4 daughters, whose specialty is escapes and exit strategies. He lives on a farm in Rivain. His friend Herold was also a Lord. Herold was a friend of Vaea. A little girl Mizzy is remarked to act like a LoF in the making. Elim was a female elf with a gift for imitating accents, knowing 12 or more. Within the Lords she was a renowned specialist at things like lockpicking. Mateo is a ‘delver’, which seems to mean an expert in underground things. He has an appreciation for history and is described as a warrior. His weapon is a dao. 

The aftermath of the Inquisition

After the Inquisition defeated Cory, “10,000″, a deliberately-inflated-to-be-alarming guess of how many soldiers, assassins, diplomats and others the Inquisitor had amassed, floated around. Nobility thought the Inquisition was a massive, destabilizing militia with allegiance to an ideal, not borders, and feared this. They were worried what this big force would become if controlled by a lesser hand. Sutherland and Co sometimes still carry out tasks relating to the Inquisition. Sutherland and Co were dispatched to Skyhold to deal with a demon that appeared there. Sutherland however suspects they were really sent there to fail and disappear during the effort; to confirm Skyhold was a problem and give officials license to permanently erase the Inquisition’s legacy. Sutherland and Co were perfect candidates for this because they’re loyal/true enough to be discreet but small enough to disappear. (That doesn’t happen though, they suceed).

For info on what the actual remains of the Inquisition have been and are currently doing, see the Solas post.

What became of Skyhold

Skyhold valley is abandoned now, spotted with the stones of dead fires of the many who once gathered there. The fortress itself was left only with a skeleton crew of caretakers, a permanent staff of 7. Ten other people were in the supply caravan. The main caretaker was carefully chosen, a Chantry brother with distant family and an unremarkable name, who welcomed long pilgrimages and repetitive but important work. After the Inquisition downsized or disbanded, Skyhold itself posed a unique problem. Too symbolic to be razed, too fortified to be left for just anyone to claim. It was eventually decided Skyhold would be shuttered, preserved but defanged, a distant beacon so all would remember the Inquisitor’s deeds. Many departing Inquisition recruits took a keepsake with them when they departed, to remember the place that so completely changed their lives. Officials promised the Inquisition would fade away. “If there was doubt, if lingering assets proved troublesome, fear and fighting over its legacy would resume. Skyhold had to be boring and safe.” It’s now set up almost like an exhibit, just with no visitors coming. Everything is monkish-ly clean, the remaining furniture is arranged like they’re in a display and people are still using them. What seems to be a commemorative plaque is put up commending the efforts of the Inquisition members both large and small, and wishing them well in the future.

Dorian, Mae and their efforts in Tevinter

Dorian’s House no longer has slaves and now only employs paid servants, a change he says he’s ashamed to have only made recently. Someone he met in the south, obviously Inky, changed his mind on the matter. He’s one of the few mages of his station to do this. Dorian and Mae are on the outs with most of the rest of the Magisterium because of their efforts to make it better/enact change. The state of the Magisterium makes Dorian raggedly depressed. He and Mae’s duty to their country that they feel means they have to be well-informed. Lately the foul political rumblings in the Magisterium mean they’ve had to spend all their time keeping their eyes on scoundrels. They are trying to win a few of them over. It’s been slow but they’re giving them a chance to prove they’re not complete fools. They also do things like posting flyers with rewards to get monster-hunters to kill monsters that are plaguing Minrathous. They’re so busy crusading for change that they don’t have time to hunt them themselves. Dorian and Mae want to show that not all Vints are heartless and don’t like the idea of bad things in their city. They hire a Lord of Fortune to kill a monster in the city. At one point House Pavus hired expert thieves to break into the Archon’s Palace but the thieves didn’t manage to succeed.

----------

We also get updates on what’s become of some minor chars and some insights into the backgrounds of some minor chars.

Give me a shout if you have any questions/desires for clarification/further stuff you wanna know.

#dragon age #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #tevinter nights #bioware #tevinter nights spoilers #tevinter nights spoiler #spoilers #spoiler #video games #solas #mj meta

[aidemint]

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐨 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐩 - 𝐒𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐨

Word Count: 2700

Warnings: None!

__

There was always a boy with peach-colored hair that I would see in the village.

From the confines of my house, I would stare out the window and watch him meander about the streets of the city. He would always be clad in patterned robes with a mask strapped to his head, and a sword tied to his belt. I always wondered what it was for. Perhaps he was a samurai, like the ones I'd read about in the old storybooks, though he didn't quite look the part.

But one could dream.

As time passed, and the world grew older, I noticed that he was now accompanied by a smaller girl with jet-black locks. They would run together and weave through crowds without a care in the world. She looked younger, and wore an outfit with a similar design as his. A younger sister, I reckoned.

The more that I observed them, the more I would feel a certain emptiness inside my chest. I would get lost in my own thoughts more often, pointlessly staring at my hands as I curled and uncurled my fingers, watching pieces of my butterfly skin flake off and settle on the cuffs of my kimono.

It stung, but my heart ached even more.

I'd always wanted someone to keep me company.

It was a nice thought, something that provoked my imagination.

It helped me cope.

__

My condition was rare.

Though I was a whole being, I was forever cursed to live a wretched life filled with nothing but pain and agony. My skin would come off at the slightest movement or touch, which made washing myself or getting anywhere an extremely tedious task. And if the gods hadn't bound me to my hermit life enough, I had eyes that were not capable of rendering large amounts of light, which meant that I couldn't go out during the day if I didn't want to blind myself.

And I didn't want to lose my sense of sight, as it would mean no longer being able to see the peach-haired boy and his sister. So there was no other option for me. The day was detremental, and the night posed too many risks, with unimaginable monsters lurking around, so I had no choice but to remain as I was -- alone and weak.

I could only sit and watch the world pass by from the confines of my room, where I was forever trapped, cursed to my prison. As I had delicate skin and soft eyes that could not take in light, my flaws rendered me useless, and therefore I had to pay reparations to the world by staying inside.

There were many people that believed that I did something sinister in my past life, and that was the reason why I had so many imperfections now. In this age, it was commonplace to believe such a thing. I understood why they could even mention something as terrible as this, but couldn't help but feel sad at the thought.

Matters became even worse once my family got word of the rumor. Being especially spiritual, they immediately suspected me and made it their priority to discard the person that would bring bad omens into their family. They promptly left me with half of their savings and their old house, and moved away to somewhere else.

I tended to my belongings quite well and always cherished the little bits of home with gratitude, but I always missed them, despite never truly knowing who they were and what they looked like.

I hoped that they were well, without me.

But even though my family left, the rumor still remained, however, forever haunting me and my very existence. Speculations only grew as the years went by. The townspeople had somehow reached the conclusion that I had been cursed because my past life had not lived their existence justly.

Sometimes I would sit and wonder about it.

Was it really my fault?

Why did the gods condemn me so?

Had I really committed such a cardinal sin?

If I did, I think would've remembered it.

__

Most days were spent making woven goods that I sold to the townspeople in exchange for groceries and such things. On the mornings that the peach-haired boy came to town, I would wait for him by my window and patiently stare into the open until he came. He and his little sister would walk around the town, sometimes getting groceries, sometimes not. They looked happy when they were together outside, enjoying the many wonders of a fulfilled life.

How I longed to live like them.

But I wasn't truly in a position to complain, as there'd always be one person to stop by my house every once in a while.

Urokodaki always came to pay me a visit, which was nice. He would bring me miso soup and small bits of dried seaweed in exchange for woven baskets. Every month, he would even stay and tell me about his travels and tales from his life -- glimpses into the outside world that I never got to experience for myself.

And perhaps it was because he was so near and dear to me that I always drank the soup with fervor, making sure not to waste even the slightest drop. I hoped that if I appreciated it enough that it would never stop coming. I never wanted the stories to cease.

That bowl of miso soup was the only light of my life that my heart could hold without stopping.

I could never thank Urokodaki enough, even for such a small bowl of soup, but he seemed to be the gift that kept on giving.

One day he brought the peach-haired boy along.

When I opened to door to let the elder in, I gasped upon seeing him with the boy I'd watched for so long. Immediately starting to worry that the place was unfit for him to see, or that I looked too unruly, I accidentally strained my skin too much and tore a new gash into my shoulder. Wincing and biting back a cry, I tried to mask the pain, but relented as Urokodaki gently took my hand and led me inside so that he could bandage me.

At that moment, I knew that I would be unable to face the boy for the rest of the day. It was foolish of me to have hoped that another would be able to understand. Why should he try to understand? I was the town's hermit, a monster among the children, and a symbol of strife among the grown.

No words were exchanged that afternoon. We all just sat and ate, and after we had eaten, Urokodaki and the peach-haired boy departed. I cast no farewell gesture to the pair, only giving a small, sad smile to the elder has he exited my house.

Days passed and life went on in accordance to the usual schedule. It was boring, but served as a reassurance that nothing out of the ordinary would happen after that encounter with Urokodaki's student. But even if I was happy that my life was the same, I couldn't help but feel disappointed at myself. Subconsciously touching the bandage on my shoulder, I sighed while imagining what my life could have amounted to if I got to know the boy I'd been admiring for such a long time.

Cursing at myself, I angrily started to thread the reeds to a chair covering, fueled by the utter shame and regret in not jumping at the opportunity to know someone new. In doing so, I hadn't realized that someone was knocking on the door. The sounds from outside continued for a few minutes before I realized that they were there. Needless to say, I was particularly surprised. Urokodaki never came this early, and an unexpected visitor wasn't very common. Despite how unconventional a stranger was, they were always welcome.

I slowly got up to open the door and once I had unlocked it, I was met with an unanticipated face.

It was the peach-haired boy.

My eyes widened in shock, completely dumbfounded as to why he would come again. Had I not scared him off last time? I simply watched him as he awkwardly waited for a response from me. When I kept staring, he cleared his throat and decided to break the silence.

"Uh," he spoke, "Is it alright if I come in?" I blinked and immediately nodded slightly, moving as fast as I could to the side in order to let him in. He looked at my figure with a concerned expression while I shuffled to close the door behind him. It looked like he wanted to say something about it, but he refrained from it and moved to another topic.

"Is your wound doing alright?" he asked, matching my pace as we walked towards the table set in the middle of the closest room. I smiled at his consideration and felt a sudden tug at my heartstrings.

"Yeah, it doesn't hurt, so don't worry too much about it," I lied, "Besides, I get them all the time. I'm used to it." Despite this, the boy didn't look too assured, but chose not to press on.

When we got settled, he brought out the miso soup from his bag and set it on the table, along with two spoons and a small container of dried seaweed. I looked at the dish, anticipating it, but somehow, something didn't feel right. It felt like a stone had settled itself into my chest, weighing my insides down and putting my appetite to rest. Setting down my spoon, I gazed into the yellow-ish liquid and hesitated. This drew the attention of the pink-haired boy.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, wearing a small frown, "Have I done something wrong?" I shook my head gently, sighing and swallowing the dread that pooled in the pits of my stomach. There was one thing I needed to question him about. His response didn't matter, after everything I'd been through, but I needed closure.

"What do you think of me?"

The peach-haired boy looked confused.

"What do you mean?"

"After being in the village for some time, I imagine that you know what the people say about me." He went silent.

I had all the time in the world, so I waited. The boy seemed lost in thought, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, his breath steady and lips pouted, in perhaps perfecting a reply that was sweet enough for my ears.

When five minutes went by, I asked him another, simpler, question in case he couldn't comprehend my comment about the village.

"You do know what tall tales about me the children tell each other, right?" He nodded. I maintained a small smile through the query, though my eyes got darker with every proceeding question.

"What are they?" I'd already recognized that he knew I was aware of the rumors. The peach-haired boy paused before answering in a soft tone.

"They say that you're cursed. They think that you're a monster." I hummed and returned to the main topic at hand after his reply. The words stung, but after the countless tears that had been shed over time, I learned to take them.

"So do you think the same?" I inquired, "Am I a monster, with my butterfly skin and delicate eyes? With my scars and-"

"I think you're beautiful."

Stopping, I locked gazes with him and stared in skepticism.

Are you mad? I wanted to shout, Is this some kind of sick joke? A fetish, maybe?

However, I withheld myself and stammered more questions.

"Why did you take such a long time in the beginning?" The peach-haired boy looked away, a rosy coloration dusting his cheeks.

"I didn't know if you would believe me or not." The tenseness in the atmosphere relieved itself at that moment. I began to feel my throat conjure weird bubbles and my shoulders start to hunch up. A chuckle burst out of my mouth unexpectedly, and louder ones followed after. My vision blurred as tears started to leak out of my eyes and spill onto the sides of my face. The peach-haired boy looked starstruck, watching me laugh.

Once I had finished, I looked at him, gingerly wiping the water droplets off of my cheeks and chin, my irises clear and sparkling.

"Then that settles it," I said, hiccupping, "That settles it." The corners of my mouth remained upturned as I picked my spoon back up and mixed the soup so that it clouded up again. Taking a sip, I grinned as the liquid ran smoothly down my throat and sent shivers up my spine.

It was still warm.

__

After a few more meetings over the course of two weeks, I didn't see Sabito again for the next three months. It was disheartening, to say the least. Though I would always wait by the window in anticipation, he never showed up with the girl. Instead, there was a long-locked black-haired boy, clad in similar patterned robes as he. His eyes appeared as blue as the sky in a cloudless afternoon, and his jaw was angled finely. Guessing that the stranger was a replacement market-boy, I started to worry.

Has something bad happened to Sabito?

When the thought would surface, I simply shook it off, convincing myself again and again that the peach-haired boy was well. Urokodaki frequently updated me with messages via crow, that Sabito was training, and nothing else. This served as a reassuring factor to quell my anxiety through the days in which I felt especially lonely.

Unfortunately, it just so happened to be one of those hours. Currently, I was in a spell of panic.

What if he never came back? What if he perished?

Merely thinking about it made my blood run cold and my fingers numb. I wouldn't even know how to react if that happened. The only thing I could do was hope that Sabito was alright. I felt helpless, defenseless, utterly hopeless.

In my fit, I hadn't realized that there was a knock at the door. It took me a couple minutes to fully register what was going on.

Was this deja vu?

Getting up from my position on my seat, I moved quickly to the door, unlocked it, and was immediately met with an unfathomable sight.

Breathlessly, I began to cry. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks with haste, landing delicately on my robes. My hands were clasped over the smile upon my features, catching the gentle sobs I let out.

There Sabito stood, with longer hair and a small sack in his hand. He grinned, his lavender eyes crinkling as he did. I could see my reflection in his glossy irises.

"Master said it was my turn to bring the miso soup again." I laughed and tried to run towards him, but only managed a meager shuffle.

"Sabito!" I cried, my arms outstretched. He caught me in his embrace, gripping onto my robes as hard as he could without risking any injury being made to my skin. Squeezing my eyes shut, I took in his scent, his being, his presence with as much attention as I could muster.

"I missed you," he whispered, voice cracking, "So much." I sobbed, my chest filling with nothing but endless adoration. Eventually separating, I fluttered my eyelids open and gazed into his wisteria eyes, then kissed him. My heart jumped at the sensation. With fingers gingerly combing through his hair, feeling his soft locks and getting tangled in the new length, I basked in his presence and familiar scent. He kissed back with the same fervor, gripping my waist with his gossamer hands, sending me into paradise.

When we broke away, I couldn't help but smile at his dopey expression.

"Can I come in?" he murmured, placing a peck on my forehead. His voice was irresistibly smooth, like silk flowing in the wind -- undulating and perfectly formed. Giggling as he kissed my lips once more, I couldn't ignore how much I loved him and his being.

So of course, I let him in.

#miso soup #oneshot #imagine #sabito #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #xreader #reader insert #i miss you sabito

[saturniandragon]

Part 3 of 4

Part 2

Part 1

“Ugh, I hate this rain.”

“Oh don’t back off now, you said Countess Viena is counting on you.”

“…was that pun intended?”

“Yes.”

Merri’sa and Elrain regrouped back at the Ayleid temple after the sun had set and darkness covered the skies, albeit under downpour. Both an annoyance and a blessing; none of them could stand being wet and cold for long periods of time, while the sound of rain and abysmal lighting could mask their movement and help them sneak around better.

Merri’sa couldn’t miss that Elrain was unusually packed with equipment, more than what she’s used to go with. A knapsack containing who knew, a metal pick for climbing, and several opaque bottles with cloth on the lid in place of conventional cork.

“What’s in those bottles?”

“Oh these? You’ll see. Hopefully I get to use them so I can show you.”

Elrain took one last look through the monocular before going in. Observation from a distance was now more difficult due to less light available and raindrops coating the glass.

“It’s too quiet. Only six of them out and about, what is this? Where the hell is the rest of them?”

“Probably asleep. Or shielding themselves from the rain.”

“Doesn’t matter, this ends tonight.”

“Ready when you are.”

Elrain took out a rope, tied one end to a large tree trunk on the edge of the overlook, and threw the other end downhill. Followed by Merri’sa, she began rappelling down the cliffside as quickly and safely as possible under the rain. They began their infiltration into the Ayleid temple.

Elrain used the cover of the rain, distraction and cunning to get close to the unsuspecting targets and slit their throats, Merri’sa used her night vision ability and unmatched marksmanship to take down the rest from long range. And just like that, in about 10 minutes, the temple exterior was cleared. 5 years of mutual trust in combat has enabled them to act quickly and efficiently even without verbal communication.

“Wasn’t so bad.” Merri’sa scavenged any arrows still intact enough to conserve ammunition. She still held her principle of utilizing every resource to its limit.

Before going in, Elrain inspected the bodies that they’d killed, hoping to gather any piece of information about what they’re about to face. One of the bandits bore an unusual symbol painted on the back of the hand. It consisted of a number of circles with texts written in strange letters.

“Mary, look at this.”

“Hmm?”

“You’ve seen this before?”

“No idea, but that’s… Daedric script.”

“Can you read it?”

“I wish I could. Well, at least now we know we’re dealing with a band of corpse raisers of some sort.”

The rain hadn’t stopped pouring down. If anything, it became heavier than before, and the ambient temperature got colder as a side effect. Adding the faraway cracks of lightning and it might as well classify as a storm.

“The hell are they doing here?”

“Whatever it is they’re doing, it’s not benevolent. Just keep your head down in there.”

The pair began entering the temple interior through an opening. Inside, the walls were lined with beautiful and flowing elven carvings, as well as Ayleid scripts. Unfortunately, none of them were able to translate any.

The Ayleids, like the Dwemer, all disappeared from Nirn before the Second Era started. However, their elven magic still persisted in the temples and buildings they left behind. One such magic was glowing energy stones used to light up interior, in place of conventional oil lamps or candles. Even over 3000 years later in the Fourth Era, these stones hadn’t ceased giving off light, and many discoveries on lost Ayleid ruins revealed traces of usable magic in artifacts and weapons, attracting attention from both magic researchers as well as maleficent individuals looking to harness power.

Merri’sa and Elrain continued their speculating from their last time in the tavern, while traversing the temple interior carefully and keeping eyes open for threats and traps from all angles. Until suddenly they found a corpse of a woman in white robes trapped inside some metal cage. Elrain went ahead to inspect it.

“Mary, cover me.”

Elrain slipped her arms through the metal bars and checked the body for possible information. Blood patterns, laceration wounds and burn marks. Some organs appeared to have been removed from the body. But it didn’t take long until she was struck by a terrible realization.

“Shit, Mary, it’s the missing priestess.”

“Is she dead?”

“Been dead for at least 2 days, judging from the dried blood. But looks like they… removed her heart.”

“What? Let me see.”

Elrain and Merri’sa swapped turns. Nothing much they could gather from it as the metal cage was tightly locked with no visible keyhole. Aside from the missing heart, all the blood also seemed to have been extracted out.

“Seems like they kept her alive for some period before deciding to kill her.”

“But necromancers don’t salvage body parts, do they? Unless they plan on resurrecting someone else.”

“I feared as much. We better keep moving, I don’t want to find out what atrocities they’re about to commit if we don’t do anything.”

Merri’sa and Elrain continued on forward, deeper into the temple. The further they went, the stranger the ambient air felt like, giving a clear sign that there’s heavy influence of magic in the area. While they continued finding more dead bodies of travelers, mercenaries and civilians alike, they hadn’t encountered any hostiles in the temple interior, which was unusual as they earlier expected to face fierce resistance. But they knew they were going the right way as they noticed more and more of the same symbols painted on the temple walls, the same symbol as the one found earlier on the bandit they killed.

“Mary, I don’t like this. Where the hell are they?”

“I don’t like it either, just keep your eyes open.”

All the corpses they encountered shared the same characteristics; lacerations, at least one missing organ and all the blood drained out. Even some were missing limbs. A really gruesome place to be in, but they had a job to do and they intended to complete it. Though the overall scent of the temple interior didn’t make it any easier.

One hour of carefully walking through the hallways of the Ayleid ruin, dodging traps and unknown objects, they finally found something significant. At the end of a large hall was a door with lights and muffled chanting voices propagating from it. And the same symbol with Daedric script appeared again, carved on the door.

“What the hell? Mary, you hear that?”

“I do. C’mon, help me open this.”

Merri’sa and Elrain both tried to force the door open, first by focusing their body mass on it, and when that didn’t work, they started using other methods like using a metal pick to pry it open and burning it with a fire spell. Yet, the door wouldn’t budge a hair no matter what they did.

“Ugh, it’s not opening. Something’s blocking it from the other side. Mary?”

“I’m gonna look around.”

All that’s left of that night’s journey was behind that very door, anything in there could help answer what had been happening between Skingrad and Kvatch. So close, yet still far.

Merri’sa started looking around the large hallway, while Elrain sat down on a boulder to regain some stamina and magicka. Pillars towering to the ceiling, large balcony 6 meters high, piles of rubble blocking another doorway, carved elven statues and furniture, and stone coffins. Nothing particularly useful to get the door open.

A particular relief on the wall caught her attention. She studied the carvings for a while, until she discovered a horrifying piece of history.

“By the Eight. El, come here.”

“What? What is it?”

“Look at this.”

Elrain walked towards Merri’sa, both set their eyes on the carved relief on the temple wall.

“Woah.”

“This may be our answer.”

The relief displayed a female figure of elven origins, surrounded by what appeared to be elven wizards channeling magic to her body. A possible hint of practice of resurrection or life preservation done for significant persons in ancient society to prolong their age and firm hold over power. But what ticked them off was the part that pictured a stack of corpses surrounding the wizards, as well as a ring of worshippers around the edges of the relief.

“Is this…”

“A necromantic ritual? Likely. Whoever’s behind that door is probably trying to revive this female figure, possibly the queen who once ruled this place.”

“So wait, those corpses we saw earlier…”

“Someone or some people are trying to replicate history.”

“But to what end?”

“I don’t know, seek of power? An insight to the future? I’ve read stories of Ayleid fanatics doing whatever it takes to see the rise of Ayleid dominance on Tamriel again.”

“Shit. Well we need to get in there.”

“I’ve been thinking about that. Do you have leftover rope?”

“Uh, I think I do, actually,” Elrain scrambled through her knapsack, and took out a small pile of rope. “What are you doing with it?”

Merri’sa snatched the rope from her hands, and the metal pick hanging on her belt.

“Hey that’s mine!” With quick hands, she tied one end of the rope firmly to the grip of the pick. She then threw the pick over the balcony where it held a strong and stable grip, allowing the hanging end of the rope to be used for climbing. And immediately, the Khajiit got up from the ground floor to the balcony pretty easily.

“Oh,” Elrain was taken aback by her creativity and intelligence. Never in her life had she thought of utilizing both of those items in combination. “Where did you learn that?”

“A certain book.” Merri’sa inspected the balcony spaces and found a doorway leading to a narrow corridor. “Looks like there’s a way forward, come on and climb up here.” Without second thoughts, Elrain followed suit and climbed up the rope, and the pair continued their journey deeper into the temple. Their goal was now made clear; stopping terrible history from taking place again.

The chanting they heard earlier became clearer and clearer, and soon enough they found themselves on different balcony in yet another massive hall, but this time even more corpses littered an area large enough to fit a small settlement. Some were no more than bones and skulls.

But their attention was in the middle of the room. Probably 3 dozen people dressed up in blue hooded robes all in a worshipping position circling around a central altar, collectively chanting ancient elven or Daedric language, while other two individuals in black robes stood on the altar with raised hands, supposedly the master necromancers who were leading the ritual. A visible flow of magicka surrounded the room, most of it was directed towards the altar itself, where presumably the body of the Ayleid queen was laid on.

“What on Nirn…”

Merri’sa and Elrain both were stunned by the sight before their eyes. They had prime seat of observing real time attempt of an entire necromantic cult resurrecting an Ayleid queen. This was it, a jarring string of events that had taken countless of innocent lives over the past few months, that they had to stop before the worst. They took cover behind the balusters, making sure no one could see them just to be safe.

“Looks like they can’t hear us from up here, good.”

“You want to take them all out, just like old times?”

“I still need to know what’s in those bottles you carry.”

“Ah, perfect time to show you.”

Elrain took one of the bottles, plucked out the cloth from the lid and placed the lid close to Merri’sa’s nose, signaling her to take scent of the bottle content.

“You smell that?”

“Oil. But what is–”

Merri’sa immediately found out the purpose of said bottle. It’s a makeshift fire spreader, designed to set things on fire from a distance by spreading oil over an area and letting the cloth act as a wick and burn the flammable liquid.

“Yes, you see my point?”

“Clever. Where did you learn to make that?”

“A certain book.”

“Hmph.” Merri’sa let out a small but audible condescending exhale, but it’d be lie if she wasn’t impressed with what her elven companion had managed to come up with mundane, everyday objects. “So what’s the plan?”

“We don’t have enough arrows for all of them, but hear me out. First, we burn the cloth in these bottles, and then, those two in black robes,” Elrain pointed towards the two people standing on the altar. “Kill both of them at the same time, throw these bottles on top of the crowd and escape in the chaos.”

“And what about the ones who survive?”

“Hopefully confused enough to process what happens. If they’re this committed into the ritual, we should have time to leave before they realize.”

A crudely made strategy, made in a hurry. But they knew their situation, they didn’t have enough ammunition for all of them even if they counted their shots, and fighting necromancers in close range surrounded by a mountain of dead bodies would be pretty much death.

At this point there was hardly any better plan than what Elrain proposed.

“I don’t see any other way, let’s do it.”

Elrain prepared the bottles, placing them on the floor. One by one she ignited the cloth wick using a small fire spell. Merri’sa prepared her trusty recurve bow, nocked a steel arrow into place and pulled the bowstring. Elrain followed short after. They had to time their shots at the same moment.

“The cloth wick won’t last long. Let’s be quick about this.”

“Alright, you take the one on the right, I get the left one. Ready?”

“Ready.”

“On three. One, two…”

“Three.”

Two arrows were launched from the dark corner of the hall, arcing down as they traveled towards the target. A second later, two thuds were heard as the master necromancers in the center of the altar dropped dead on the floor and the magicka flow around the room quickly faded out. The pair wasted no time, grabbed the bottles and threw them as accurate as possible towards the cult worshippers. Three loud sounds of glass shatter echoed across the room, as fire spread on their feet and incinerated some of the cult worshippers.

“Great shot, El. Now let’s go, they’ll be searching for us.”

Merri’sa and Elrain didn’t take chances as they booked it towards the temple exit. They jumped down the previous balcony they climbed, but by the time they landed feet on the ground, the door that they tried to budge through was immediately busted open, and a group of angry mages were at the doorway. Without hesitation they casted various Destruction spells as the pair tried to flee.

“Behind us!”

“Forget them! Just run!”

“Intruders! Kill them!”

The pair spent no time looking over their shoulders. Their mind was focused on escaping the temple alive. Merri’sa’s agility and Elrain’s compact posture made it easier for them to navigate tight corners and doorways. At one point the mages got dangerously close to them, so Elrain lit up another oil bottle she brought as a backup.

“This should buy us time.” When they sprinted through the last corridor before the exit, Elrain shattered the last oil bottle on their tracks, creating a pool of fire behind them and stopping the mages from going after them.

“You’re a dirty little wood elf, El, you know that?” Merri’sa said sarcastically.

“Oh, sod off. Save your compliments for later.”

They finally got outside, where the rain had stopped falling down and the two moons of Masser and Secunda lit up the night sky, but their escape wasn’t done just yet. They still needed to make sure no one trailed behind them, so they went after the nearest treeline into the dense Cyrodiilic forest, and through the woods they ran towards Skingrad, the closest guarded settlement.

Inside the walls of Skingrad, Merri’sa and Elrain were filled with adrenaline, having a hard time believing what they just did at the Ayleid temple. They always found satisfaction in doing stealthy combat —Merri’sa especially—, but this one would become an unforgettable experience for both of them, for a pair of skilled markswomen doing a noble service for the people of Cyrodiil.

“Is that why you visited Imperial City? To craft those oil bottles.”

“Hell yes it is. Not bad at all, don’t you think?”

“Impressive, El. Impressive.”

#tes #the elder scrolls #fic #the elder scrolls fic #oc: merri'sa #oc: elrain #khajiit #bosmer #mine

[galtak]

Bule Skies Without Gray Clouds

Chapter 7.

Follow Me To The Past

Juvia slept like a dead man after her fight with Mira-Jane. All the tricks she pulled out there were hard and tired on her body, every cell and muscle burned like fiery hell, just like Natsu dragon roar. Juvia doesn't usually use all of her tricks at once. More commonly, Juvia tried to avoid pushing herself beyond her limits in a single fight but fighting Mira-Jane is always brutal. Opening her aching eyes, she looks at the luminous sunlight that creeps through the window; Juvia placed her arm on her eyes struggling to shield her fragile eyeballs.

Memorializing every individual yesterday's events Juvia pauses at appalling, eyes wild open beneath her arm and chocking noise coming out of her throat. Today she supposed battle with Erza. Only Mira-Jane and Laxus can challenge her and win. Juvia always loses against Mira-Jane, but Juvia can tire her enough to consider a good rival. No one before Ezra's arriving has ever accomplished at fighting Mira-Jane full strength except Juvia.

Juvia concerned about her health. Yesterday's fight burned her energy like Natsu after sugar-high, leaving her dry and exhausted even after a long necessary sleep.

After dragging her feet out of bed, putting some cozy robe on. Juvia took a long desired shower. Even in the shower Juvia's dread the upcoming day. Juvia search inside her brain, trying to figure out a thing that Erza likes more than fighting. Erza loves armors; however new armor is extravagant aside from that hospital's treatment is cheaper. Maybe a new sword, but Erza extremely fond of unique ones with neat powers, also those are even more expensive than the armors. She also likes cakes, not just like but adores cakes.. Especially a specific strawberries cake with sweet cream.

"That it!" Juvia clamored while shampooing her hair and instantaneously opened her eyes. "I can bribe her with cake." during her thoughts run wild the shampoo entered into Juvie's eyes, making them red, puffy and sore again.

Minutes after, dressed in a simple yellow dress, a broad white beach hat, and some old slippers. Juvia slipped out of Fairy Hills Dorms without anyone notice and walked fast, the quickest her legs carried her, toward the marketplace's area.

Juvia reached the groceries' store and was about to enter the glass' door when some fabric had dropped on her face. She grasps the cloth and immediately identified it as Gray's shirt, just his size, style even his name was written on the ticket. Juvia noticed Gray's black wild hair down the street, he yet to comprehend that his shirt no longer was on him. How he kept throwing his clothes at her without actually knowing she was there was a mystery Juvia wasn't able to clarify yet.

"Gray!" She cried out loud.

Gray shifted back in alarm and began examining the street with his eyes. Gray search through the crowd until he saw Juvia standing at the entrance of the store they always went together years ago. His eyes expend to large holes when he saw the shirt she was waving at him. Gray was fast on his feet and dashed to where she stood in haste.

"thanks," he said eerily "how comes it always gets to you?" Gray asked in bewilderment.

"It doesn't get to Juvia, it lands on Juvia's head every single time!" Juvia clamped her hands to her chest, restlessly.

Gray scratched the back of his head bashfully and gave her a flustered smile. "So, what are you doing here?" He asked trying to stir the topic from his habit of losing clothes also how they find their way on Juvia to anything else.

"Juvia is purchasing some groceries to bake a strawberry cake," Juvia chatted along, all of the sudden rememberings that she genuinely has to buy the groceries if she wished her idea to work.

"why do you baking a cake in the middle of the week?" Gray asked mirthfully as he accompanied Juvia through the shelves at the store, Juvia was considering one of the strawberries' packs.

"Um, Juvia doesn't want to... never mind." Juvia overwhelms with discomposure. She concealed her expression with her hands, and Gray snorted.

"I overheard a rumor that Erza wants to fight you," Gray stated as if he didn't already know what is going on. He taunted her and Juvia fired him a murderous look.

"Perhaps fairy tail's most accomplished water mage doesn't desire to cross swords with the frightful Titania?" Gray declared with a bogus astound.

"Do you want to fight the Titania at full strength?" Juvia hurled at Gray, and his grin developed into a terrorized expression in less than a second.

"Um...no," he carried out a creak.

"Well, Juvia doesn't want too, especially since she's serious," she murmured in dread.

"Juvia gonna bake a cake and hopes it will persuade Erza to train with Juvia and nothing more." She clasped her hands tightly with hope.

"if you baking one cake maybe can you make two cakes..one for .." Gray began saying but discouraged before embarrassed himself any farther.

It almost felt as when they used to go shopping together and savor each other company.

In Gray's mind, he speculated that Juvia would come back with him to the house they once shared he even thought they would have supper together. It will be as if they had come back in time when things were wholesome and peaceful.

"Juvia is waiting..." Juvia glimpsed at Gray, hoping he would express what she needs him to voiced out loud, maybe an admission of him missing her over the course of the last year, perhaps telling her that he missed just as much she missed him. He exhaled surrenderlly and complied to her silent wish.

"Can you make pancakes, bacon, and eggs, too? I missed your cooking," Gary said, blushing thickly. His whole face was flaming red, and this time he couldn't meet her gaze. This time he had looked at his feet and used his hair as a separating veil.

An hour later, Gray sat in a massive kitchen, in the middle of the room stood a vast table with several drawers and cupboards that served as everything, from cooking, baking and dinner table, it looked like an island in the center of the space. The flaming stove was located on the other side of the room, and alongside was the oven. Juvia put on a flower-patterned apron and began to make the cake. Gray just sat on the other side of the table and watched the blue-haired girl organize the consumer goods she bought.

"Juvia?" echoed a voice from the kitchen entrance.

Gray saw Erza in sword-patterned pink pajamas stroll into the kitchen, sniffing the air around her.

She eyed her surroundings and notice Gray in the room.

"what are you doing here? Boys are not allowed into Fairy Hills," she said, and an intimidating look appeared on her face.

"Juvia thinks the landlady said boys are not allowed to go into girls bedrooms, here it isn't a bedroom." Juvia declared as she is mixing the creamed-colored blend.

"so we can hang-out in the kitchen," Gray said, as a captivating reluctantly grin stretching over his lips.

Erza stared at them in disgruntlement. Her attention dragged back to the cake Juvia is preparing.

"Did you make a strawberry cake?" Erza asked Juvia with starry-eyes, and Gray snickered. Erza directed a quick glare at him, and Gray stopped laughing.

"Yes, Juvia is preparing a strawberries cake" Juvia replied, trying to concentrate on the recipe in her mind. A second later she poured mixture into a round baking dish and fronted Erza who bounced up and down gleefully.

"But Juvia didn't say she will give you a piece of the cake" Juvia spoke, and the room suddenly became cold as ice. This time it wasn't Gray's fault, at least not this time. Erza froze in the middle of a Jump and turned to stare at Juvia with a downcast face and unshed tear in her right eye. Gray held his breath. Juvia explained to him of her plan, and he knew that was an essential part of her plan. He hoped that Juvia could pull it off.

"But Juvia can bring you a piece if you would agree to cancel the fight today, and instead of it just practice together?" Juvia said in a confident voice, but Gray recognized she had hidden her trembling hands behind her back as act Juvia always did when she was extremely nervous.

"Yeah, sure! just give me a piece!" Erza screamed desperately. Juvia relaxed and giggled affectionately.

"Juvia will yell for you when the cake is ready," she said, but Erza did not leave the room. She looked at Gray as if she couldn't fathom why he is still there.

"Why are you here?" She asked again, but Erza didn't get a straight answer. "Just get used to it," he said, watching Juvia pour cup of flour into a new clean bowl. Juvia knew she couldn't just give one piece to Erza, the first cake was all Erza's, the second cake was for all the other members of the guild. Erza left the kitchen and went to her room.

Erza left the kitchen more bewildered than she had been since Gray and Juvia start talking again. From the moment Gray and Juvia returned from their last mission together she couldn't not acknowledge to the drastic change in their relationship. The two were more serene, in high spirits and entirely in sync with each other. They even completed each other's sentences!

They settled in perfect coordination. In Juvia and Mira-Jane's battle, Erza had never seen Juvia fight like that or Gray speak highly on anyone like he praised Juvia, Gray was cold most times, but since that memorable mission, Gray seems more... Lively or even playful. At this moment Gray was sitting in the Fairy hill's kitchen watching Juvia bake with a contented smile and tender look in his eyes. It seems like he missed Juvia all that time period.

However, they are not yet thirteen and twelve! How can he already miss her this much? Erza always believed the Guild when they say Gray and Juvia were best of best friends, but that kind of expression come from living together and been around each other every second of the day and someday his life source was cut out of the blue. Erza had known them for over a year and thought she knew them pretty well, hell she thought Juvia was HER best friend, although now Erza felt she didn't know them at all. Erza was one who used to get answers as soon as she wanted them but Gray refused to respond in details, and that fascinated her even more. Thus Erza withdrew and went to seek answers somewhere else.

Cana was a good option, but on the other hand, Levy was closer to her now, and Erza wasn't known of her great control on postponing desires.

Erza knocked on the brown wooden door with a sign that read "Levy McGarden" with thin blue letters.

She heard rustling small legs and clatter of fallen books before the door opened by the tiny mage.

"Erza!" Levy exclaimed enthusiastically. "I expected you to come sometime soon." Levy giggled, and her red speed-reading glass lay on her button-like nose.

Erza stared at the tiny girl even more confused than ever.

"Why did you think I'll come soon?" Erza asked puzzled, she, herself, did not know she was going to come to Levy's room until a minute ago.

"You're not used to Gray and Juvia, I knew you had questions, and once you have no answers from them, it's a sensitive topic for them. I knew you'd do anything to find answers. Juvia, who you thought as one of your best friends, hadn't shared with you something that meaningful of her life. Cana and I are the only girls in the dorms who can give you the explanations you're seeking for, nevertheless Cana's room is further away from yours, plus we all know how good you are at postponing your curiosity. Anyway, I can give you the answers right now."

Levy sat down on her chair and waved to Erza to sit on a bed, which was the only furniture other than the desk chair, and wall-size Library cabinet

"I'm right?" Levy asked as Erza sat.

"Yes," Erza said in confidence, stunned by Levy's insights.

"What do you want to ask me?" Levy looked at her with her big brown eyes, giving her time to gather her thoughts.

"Um ... Why didn't I ever see them like that?" Erza asked softly. She did not have to act tough with Levy. Levy always calmed her and everyone around her, she had a peaceful aura around her.

"The earlier explanation didn't satisfy you, and now you want to know the real reason that even Gray doesn't know still." Levy stated what Erza already knew. "Their connection is intense, a fight or a lack of attention on Gray's part would not have made the Juvia I knew to cut off the attachment," Erza said instantly.

"You're right, the reason is deeper than you know, Cana knows because she's seen it in her tarot cards and the reason I know is my ability to see feelings that people are trying to hide." Levy's cheeks paint red as if she didn't accept her own praise. Erza finds it cute and endearing.

"Juvia is in love with Gray, she is afraid he didn't care as much as she cared about him. The real problem is that Gray is in love with Juvia too, and yet he perplexes his feeling with sibling love and thinks its nothing else. Even if Gray somehow figures his real feeling and realize that he's in love with Juvia, I will bet you that he will do nothing about it."

"But they're so young," Erza said, face red as her hair. "Gray isn't yet 13, and Juvia isn't yet 12!"

"Gray's birthday is next week, by the way, and Juvia's birthday is about two months from now." Levy dropped the information as trivial, although Erza stored it in her mind. Levy continued, "Love knows no age, you must remember it."

Erza remembered her feelings for Jellal for a split second, and find herself lost in the memory the past Jellal touching her hair and naming her Scarlet.

"Why did everything get so complicated?" Erza voiced a question.

"Cana said that Gray and Juvia weren't supposed to meet until Gray was 18 and Juvia 17. Cana also said that fate would try to separate them and return them at the right time, but they're trying to fight fate, and they don't even know it.." Levi sighed.

"Is there anything else Cana said?" Erza urged Levy, Cana's predictions were always accurate.

"I don't think you want to know the rest," Levy said tenderly.

"Tell me! Please!" Erza demanded, making her eyes shone in danger, she didn't agree with Levy's choice not to tell her the last piece of the puzzle.

"Umm... Cana said you're going to be the reason them will separate for a few years, then join them together again, like what happened now," said Levy, trying to keep her voice light and serene.

"Like now?" Erza said. She didn't separate them, did she?

"The day you arrived, they stopped talking, and you forced them to talk again, and they are talking today." Levy said factually.

"Erza-San!" Erza heard Juvia's voice calling her from the kitchen. "The cake is ready." Erza started to rise before she heard Juvia calling her again. "Erza-San come quickly before Gray eats the whole cake by himself."

"Hey, you're not supposed to tell her!" Gray yelled at Juvia who laughed heartily, her laughter echo in the halls. Erza rushed to the kitchen while two important thoughts cross her mind.

1. she can not let Gray eat the whole cake by himself! That was her role and her role alone.

2. that she never heard Gray or Juvia happier than that moment, when they are together.

The training began at noontide the same day when the sun was directly in the middle of the sky and at its heat worsen, the air sweat with humid. Erza lugged Juvia from her lunch while Juvia was yelping a vociferous

"Hey!"

Erza commended Juvia to get dressed in training's gear, after that they gone out. The training lasted until late in the evening when the skies darken, and the stars shone strikingly throw the dusky night. During the training practice, Erza and Juvia run around the city three times with two tires attached to them by a long thick thread. After this was sword training, Juvia had luck that she had her water-body otherwise she probably wasn't survived.

After the exhausting and destroying physical exercises, they worked on increasing the magic core in meditation, which wasn't a bad thing on a good day but Juvia was afraid to drop dead by mistake.

"And now," Erza said, "we're fighting," and Juvia started to protest from her place on the floor.

"Juvia cannot move!" She cried weakly. "Um.. it was an easier workout than I normally do" Erza consider out loud.

"Easier training? That Erza's-san idea for easy training!" Juvia began to rise to her feet in despair.

"We're fighting!" Erza commanded, and Juvia stared at her in dread. "we shouldn't! Really! Please!" Juvia started retracting backward from the fierce knight-magic-mage.

"We didn't practice our magic" Erza pulled her sword from thin air, and it was the water empress sword without wasting a slip of a second Erza attack Juvia.

Drained Juvia turned into a puddle of water and moved behind Erza.

A second later Juvia was lying on the ground in her solid shape, while swords piled her clothes to the field, preventing from her to stand up.

"Juvia surrenders!" Erza grumbled in displeasure nevertheless she released Juvia. "Juvia goes to eat something, do you want to come with me Erza-san?"

Erza cheered gleefully. "Is there something left from the cake?" She questioned Juvia urgently.

"No! you and Gray already finished one cake the minute after it comes out of the oven and the second cake is for the Guild!" Juvia voiced the fact with a lot of fervor. Juvia was wondering if Titania had a separate stomach for strawberry cakes.

After an essential shower and fresh clothes, after Juvia's old clothes were torn from Erza's swords, Juvia arrived at the Guild.

"Juvia" "Water Fairy" Juvia heard the two older boys called her, they advanced toward her. One had unruly black hair, and he was, as always, without a shirt. The other was with pink hair, blackish eyes and a white scarf that looked like scales.

"What's going on?" Juvia asked as she sat down at an empty table near the entrance, the only one empty at the moment.

"Gray says you'll go with him on a mission, but you'll go with me, right?" Natsu asked enthusiastically and very fast.

"She's my best friend, so she'll go with me!" Gray grasped Natsu's scarf endangering.

"First of all, Gray, where's your shirt?" She asked wearily.

"you don't have it?" He said in surprise, letting go of Natsu.

Juvia spread her hands, and Gray saw that the shirt was not there. "Wait a minute."

Gary returned and put on the shirt that was written on it back 'stripper.'

"Cana, you pay for it, I loved that shirt!" Gray shouted when he had seen the shirt and Cana waved to him with a black marker in her hand.

"That was my last shirt, damn it!" He snapped.

"We'll go shopping for clothes together, Juvia also needs a new set of clothes after her training with Erza-san." Juvia started the sentence happily, but it became more and more dreary when she remembered her practice with Erza earlier today.

"What about the mission ?!" Natsu said after feeling neglected.

"Juvia is not going to a job tomorrow, not after training with Erza-san. Juvia needs some rest."

a shiver went through Gray and Natsu at the concept of training with Erza.

"I can understand," said Natsu, glumly, then went back to talk to Lisana.

"Shall we go shopping tomorrow?"

Juvia was about to say that she would love to go, but the master stood on the bar deck, he was a tiny man but respected from everyone around him. "Those are the eight candidates for the M' level examinations." The master had listed eight names. However, none of them were Erza, Mira-Jane or Laxus.

"I was sure Erza would be one of the candidates this year," Gray said.

"The master probably wants to give her more time to adjust to the guild," Juvia said after a long thought.

The Guild door had been forcefully kicked, and Laxus stormed out, leaving every single one of fairy tail's members at an apparent shock. Everyone except the master, Laxus's grandfather who shook his head gloomily.

After a few minutes of utter silence. Gray resume their conversation.

"You must be right. Laxus just left?"

Gray pointed toward the door. Juvia nodded.

"want to get out of here before the shock pass?"

They went out the Gilud, on their way Gray took off his shirt uncontrollably.

"What are we going to do with your habit?" Juvia said with false despair, hiding a smile in her face. Even with Laxus gone and everyone completely at the disorder, Juvia never felt more at peace than at this moment.

"NOT AGAIN!" Gray shouted, and Juvia laughed out loud.

o.k guys! It's all for now. I will back (hopefully) soon! This my second update this week! My own personal record! I will try to break in again this week! Thank you for your support! Couldn't do it without you guys! I Love you! I hope you enjoyed it and if you have, please review!

#gray fullbuster #gray fairy tail #Gray X Juvia #juvia and gray #Juvia x Gray #juvia fairy tail #juvia loxar #gruvia #gruvia fairy tail #gruvia fanfiction #fairy tail gruvia #fairy tail #fairy tail couples #fanfic

[mihanada]

Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation

(back to masterpost)

There is a lot going on in this chapter that is both immensely satisfying and extremely creepy.

And this arc is so tiny! Only two parts, I believe.

Chapter 61: Evil (Part 1)

Alright, this is not quite as gross as the Xuanwu chapter for me, but just in case anyone forgot, this novel is not for the faint of heart. The levity distracts from the heaviness of the rest of the content for you to also forget about the gross bits until they come up again and hit you in the face. This novel strikes a nice balance between all of these elements, which is nice.

“It’s been three months since I threw him into Burial Mound. Why are you still having dreams of him? Just how many times has it been?!”

IT SERVES YOU RIGHT!!!

Up until the icky stuff happens, that ^ is what I was whispering fiercely the entire time.

“How could it be possible? Before this, how many cultivators have our sect sent to clean Burial Mound up? Did any one of them come back alive? Now that he’s been thrown inside, his corpse has probably rotted away already.”

Whose bright idea was it to create a great big mound of CORPSES. It got so bad that everyone you sent to clean it up dropped dead. Seriously, you would think cultivators would not let something like this get that bad. Obviously they had wanted to do something about it a while back, so why didn’t someone clean it up before it became a literal hellhole...

“The people who died in Burial Mound, all of their souls would be shackled there.”

Apparently this is a thing, too.

“What Sunshot Campaign? Some Sunshot it is. Want to shoot down the sun? Dream on!”

YOUNGEST SHIDI YOUR LEGACY IS HERE.

“Wang LingJiao felt wronged, but she felt hatred as well. She put down the teacup. Fixing her hair and her robes, she walked outside with a smile.

Just as she went out the door, the smile on her face faltered.”

I’ll take this opportunity to say that I appreciate the small attempt to humanize Wang Lingjiao here. I appreciate the disintegration of hers and Wen Chao’s relationship even more, but. xD

She was one of those typical bitchy villains, but hey, at least she wasn’t totally dumb and naive enough to believe without a doubt that Wen Chao would continue adoring her. She hoped, but when it was clear that he had enough of her, she also decided it was best to derp off.

ooh the pieces are finally falling into place! Wen Xu being beheaded was mentioned during Nie Mingjue’s flashbacks.

“When they emerged under the banner of the ‘Sunshot Campaign’, nobody took them seriously.”

I wish we could’ve seen this thing form instead of after the three month time skip, but oh well.

“However, three months later, the circumstances didn’t turn out the way they expected them to at all!”

and they managed to turn the tables without demonic cultivation meddling! though that probably helped immensely, later in this chapter.

“There was none of her beloved treasures, only a pale-skinned, curled-up child!”

I’m actually wondering what the hell this was. Was she hallucinating? But it ends up in the room later...

What matter of demonic cultivation is this?? xD

it’s delightfully creepy though a bit cliche. want horror? go straight for the creepy babies.

“A white-colored child lay prone under her bed, staring into her eyes.”

what is happening, seriously

“Wen Chao shouted. He unsheathed his new sword and sliced at her, “Go away! Get lost!”

“new sword”

I appreciate that the author remembered he lost his back in the cave. xD

“Wang LingJiao’s shoulder had been gashed by the sword. Her features were even more twisted as she shrieked, “Ahhhhhh… It hurts, ahhhh… It hurts, ahhhh!!!”

the, uh, creepy and disturbing part is that she’s not actually dead, yet acting almost like a corpse being controlled (we know this isn’t going to happen yet though, since mr. Ghost General was the first).

“On the ground, Wang LingJiao had already picked up one leg of the stool, frantically stuffing it into her mouth, laughing as she did, “Fine, fine, I’ll eat it, I’ll eat it! Haha, I’ll eat it!”

I’m wondering what and how she is compelled to do this by...? It’s definitely something to do with demonic cultivation, and it’s a no-brainer who is responsible.

However, getting her to literally eat a chair leg is pretty impressive. 

“Wen Chao was almost dead from the shock.”

hahaha I was also all ??? at this point. what is going on, how-

“Each carrying their cultivators, they flew on their swords in silence.”

notice that? notice it?

a certain someone who lost their golden core can suddenly fly again...

we should all wander a nameless mountain blindfolded for 7+ days

“Two months ago, the Two Jades of Lan cooperated in a surprise attack with Jiang Cheng.”

That’s pretty impressive with just three of them.

“Jiang Cheng looked at him, as if surprised that he had suddenly asked about Wei Ying. He answered, “No.”

hahaha we all know why he asked about Wei Ying...

To Jiang Cheng though, it probably is a little random.

awww Jiang Cheng is toting his sword around though...

imagine if things didn’t work out and he never got to give it back hahahaha. well, Jiang Cheng, things have pretty much been shit for you, but at least that worked out.

Like, I guess these are objectively gross. xD not enough to squick me, but yeah, pretty nasty.

However, having recently read a novel that truly had a gratuitous amount of violent, bloody, and disgusting deaths, GDC has a good balance. It’s not exactly for the shock factor, nor gratuitous. Gross, yes, but not to a pointless degree.

I’m wondering how they all died in a different manner though. We’ve never gotten to see demonic cultivation used in this way yet.

I like the bit of mystery behind it.

“She had killed herself by forcing herself to swallow the stool leg into her stomach.”

So yeah, it has to do with controlling people. They’re not dead yet when they controlled though.

“Jiang Cheng turned the corpse’s twisted face over. After he had scrutinized it for a while, he gave out a cold laugh. Holding the stool leg, he shoved it into her mouth, somehow managing to stuff the half that had been outside into her body as well.”

We’ve reached the point that Lan Wangji didn’t comment on this. Yeah, he was inspecting the talismans, but you can’t say he didn’t notice Jiang Cheng shoving a stool leg down a corpse’s throat.

this, was kind of a yuck moment.

But can you blame Jiang Cheng after the shit these people put him through. and she’s dead anyways.

“These brushstrokes were the ones that entirely changed the pattern of the talisman. Now, looking at it, the talisman stuck to the door seemed to be the face of a person, smiling eerily.”

someone has been busy~

“Jiang Cheng was shocked, “Talismans… could attract evil? I haven’t heard of anything like it.”

yes you have, once, in speculation, two years ago!

“Jiang Cheng, “Then who could this person possibly be? Amongst all of the renowned cultivators, I haven’t heard of any who can do such a thing.

Immediately after, he continued, “But no matter who they are, it’s fine as long as their objective is the same as ours—to kill all of the Wen-dogs!”

oh, jiang cheng.

“Jiang Cheng snorted, “Dark? In this world, could there be anything darker than the Wen-dogs?!”

Oh, you say that now, Jiang Cheng...

It is quiet funny and such a part of human nature for this to occur though. “the enemy of my enemy is my friend” and once the Wen sect is no longer around as a common enemy...

“This person had to be Wen Chao. But how did Wen Chao’s voice become like this? So thin and so sharp, it didn’t seem to be Wen Chao at all?”

I mean, this is terrible and all, what happened to him but you can’t help but feel a bit of satisfaction as well. that’s what you get for terrorizing everyone and murdering basically an entire clan!

I’m amazed Jiang Cheng managed to find people to recruit at all in those three months, actually.

“Wen ZhuLiu appeared to be indifferent, “Perhaps.”

those are some words of encouragement, Wen Zhuliu.

never go to Wen Zhuliu for comfort, ever.

“Wen ZhuLiu, “You need ointment. Or else you’ll be dead for certain.”

Practical, though. And oddly loyal. What is with this guy? Though, at this point, even if he abandoned Wen Chao, his life would still be on the line. All he would have is some more time to run.

“Wen ZhuLiu peeled off the bandages layer by layer, revealing the skin of the bald man. On the face, scars and burn marks scattered without order, making him look as if he’d been cooked. Ugly, hideous, they couldn’t see at all the shadow of whom he used to be!”

What in the world happened???

We better find out what demonic art thing is responsible eventually. xD

“Don’t cry. Or else the tears would make the wounds fester and worsen the pain.”

Well that sucks. They are burn wounds, though.

“Suddenly, Wen Chao shrieked, “The flute! The flute! Is it the flute?! I heard him play the flute again!”

Wen ZhuLiu, “No! It was the wind.”

I guess his flute can do more than control corpses.

“Seeing this, Jiang Cheng remembered what a plight he and Wei WuXian were in the day when they fled. The didn’t even have any food. Such a situation was karma indeed!

Heart filled with joy, the corners of his curled lifted and he broke into mad but soundless laughter.”

can you see the current Jiang Cheng in him now.

after what happened to his sect, it was just a downward spiral from there....even though he’s got his cultivation back, the experience and trauma altered his personality forever.

Everyone is unhinged in this chapter omg. Lan Wangji and Wen Zhuliu are the only sane ones.

“He threw the bun away and screamed, “I’m not eating meat! I’m not! I’m not! I’m not eating meat!”

Geez, what happened to you??

“No no no, Wen ZhuLiu, Brother Wen! Don’t go, don’t leave me behind. If you can take me back to my dad, I’ll let him promote you to the highest level guest cultivator! No no no, you saved me, so you’re my brother—I’ll let him recognize you into the main clan! From now on you’ll be my elder brother!”

what an asshole. this is the only guy who is willing to stay by your side and strong enough to do so, he could have just ditched you and taken his chances running but instead he is lugging your sorry ass around for some reason.

Come to think of it, Wen Zhuliu has a pretty abhorrent ability that is NOT classified as demonic cultivation. But perhaps that’s the reason he ended up with the Wen Sect. Who else would want to be associated with such a horrible ability? Only those with the power to suppress all opposition and no care for morals.

“Wen ZhuLiu stared in the direction of the stairs, “There’s no need.”

Once again, never go to this guy for pep talks.

“The pair of palms, on the other hand, was bare, without a single finger on it!”

It’s amazing he’s still kicking (...well...) actually.

“The person slowly walked upstairs. He was covered in black. With a slender physique, he had a flute at his waist, hands behind his back.

However, when the person strolled up the stairs and turned around, smile on his face, Lan WangJi’s eyes opened wide, having seen those bright features before.”

GUESS WHO.

(quotes from ExR’s translations)

← back・onward →

#grandmaster of demonic cultivation #founder of diabolism #mo dao zu shi #魔道祖师 #mdzs novel #gdc aka the liveblog of TEARS