okay i have a few more: dark/darkness, lyrium, sunburst, sorrow
Dark: Both the bandit archers and Varric had a difficult time hitting their targets once the torches had been snuffed out with a wave of Anders’ hand, few arrows uselessly embedding themselves into the soft dirt. Fenris was a bright streak of white light in the dark, darting from one men to another and as beautiful and deadly as his dance was, it made him an easy target.
Lyrium: He looks up into the face of his savior and for a second sees only the twisted cluster of red lyrium. It takes him a moment to find anything resembling a human face there, skull already bent out of shape by lyrium pushing it’s way out. One of the eyes have been pushed off to the far right of its face- it looks dead and useless, Anders thinks that the connecting tissues have been severed by the ingrown lyrium. The other eye glows bright and red, it blinks slowly at Anders. Everything else has been replaced by lyrium- nothing else of the human that it might have been is left.
sunburst: Hawke remembers. It must’ve been years ago, that night in the Chantry, a small red sunburst brand on that man’s forehead. The strange calm in his voice despite the violent outcry from Anders, as if two men's worth of despair had been poured into him. Hawke realizes just how difficult, how impossible the thing Karl had asked of Anders was.
sorrow: “How can you do this?” Fenris asks her as she starts unloading the day’s worth of desserts into a shiny golden tray. “Do you not wish to return to Mother?” “Mother?” Varania asks back, her eyebrows raised in genuine surprise. “Who’s that?” Surprised isn’t a strong enough word to describe what Fenris is feeling- shocked, he thinks, angry and sorrow, and perhaps regret.
send me a word and I’ll post a sentence from my WIPs containing that word
oooooooo what if Anders has to dye his hair? Just in case. Anders with black or brown hair! My god, it would take Fenris a while to get used to that look! He’d miss the red-blond color so much.
(Sorry keep spamming you with these I'm having a lot of fun! ^^) Now how about: leaf/leaves, laughter, Blight, rage, blood, and hate/hatred
Leaf/leaves: While Fenris sits, speechless, Varania pulls one final item from her wicker basket. It is not a cream covered pastry or sugar glazed candies. It is a small golden cage, perhaps the size of a small bowl, filled with bits of leaves and twigs.
“Here,” Varania says haughtily, placing the cage next to Fenris with the minimum amount of care, “I’m sure both of you will get along, encased in gold as you are.”
Laughter: “I don’t care.” Varric sighed. “Let them stick around for a day. They’ve already been paid and you never know if…”
“If what?” Anders replied, voice sharp and cold like the ice he flung at enemies. “What, Varric?”
“Templars?” Varric supplied, glib as always. But Anders let out a bark of laughter, one that did not sound joyous at all.
Blight: King Cailan had been at Ostagar when it fell; Hawke hazily remembers hearing on the news that he was visiting the city. Denerim floundered at the loss of leadership, even with Queen Anora there, and the sudden influx of refugees pouring in from all over the country. And those refugees had demanded to know why the government hadn’t done anything about the plague, the blight of the dead rising.
Rage: Hawke crams the phone that he’s been holding into his pocket. He looks pissed, with his dark brows furrowed furiously over his brown eyes that seem to glimmer in the light of the naked bulb hanging over his head. Alarmed at the rage dripping from Hawke’s face, Anders scoots back on the mattress without thinking about it.
Blood: Allison’s mother’s arm clots up with thick, black blood, viscous like rotten syrup. Black veins run up her throat, jugular visible and pulsing behind her waxy, gray skin. She lets out a groan like nail scratching metal. Hawke turns just in time to catch her from launching herself at Carver.
Hate: Fenris’s breaths became harsh, small tremors that he could not hide ran down his body. It was painful to witness, and certainly more than Anders had expected to see of Fenris—not that he had ever wanted to see this side of Fenris. It was so much easier hate someone before he saw their vulnerabilities laid bare for the world.
send me a word and I’ll post a sentence from my WIPs containing that word
Dunno if ur still doing this but if u r--last set: egg/eggs, water, light, dirt, justice
Egg: nothing
Water: Surely, he had been mistaken. Anders was a far cry from what he had been as a youth. No longer soft and young, Anders was much too skinny and unkempt, often putting too many days between his baths simply because clean water was, at times, a luxury in Darktown. He had lines on his face and bags under his eyes. No one desired him.
Light: “No,” Anders replies and steps forward, reaching out to Hawke. It’s a gesture that Hawke’s seen so many times before, back in Kirkwall. Hawke can still feel the ghost of light kisses that followed it. But Anders fingers ends up on his armor.
“No, that’s fine, I can do it myself,” Hawke says, batting Anders’ hands away from his collar when he struggles to undo the laces with his shaking, drunken fingers.
Dirt: Anders felt the stinging bite of dirt and rocks under his naked back and arms, the cold of the ground permeating through the thin fabric around his waist.
Justice: It wasn’t enough to fill him completely but he felt mana and power rushing back to his arms as Justice lent him his strength. Anders conjured a fist full of flame and threw it down in a wide arc in front of him, catching one slaver who had been advancing towards him.
i have a couple words if that's okay: cheese, dog, lube, and blue
Cheese: “You need to let people help you, healer,” she said wisely. It turned out to be a loaf of soft white bread and a block of cheese with some cured meats.
Dog: “Well, it seems like you can teach an old dog new tricks after all.” The templar says making the other templars titter with cruel laughter.
Lube: I know for a fact I’ve never used this word ;;;
Blue: “He is black and blue all over, with streaks of rust colored blood from the bloody nose that had run freely. Anders turns away from himself.”
send me a word and I’ll post a sentence from my WIPs containing that word
Got this idea listening to a song: AU where elves are long-lived beings who are rather solitary in their home in their realm They are also very mischievous and are attracted to pretty things including people Fenris is strolling along the border of the two realms (Fae and human) which is made of an ancient sentient mist that keeps humans out of Fae (save those the fae allow in) but allows the fae to come and go as they please He sees Anders through the fog and takes a liking...
Send Me Prompts!
I think I’m definitely going off track on what a drabble is supposed to be…
Every time I fill a prompt I think I’m gonna end up saying “idk if this is what you were looking for but here ya go” and hope it’s liked at least a little.
Link to Ao3 Chapter: here
All the children in this village grew up with the stories of the scary manbeasts that reside in the the Brecilian Forest. You must never enter it for you may be taken by one. They especially liked bad children. If you get taken during a storm you may never return, because when a strange light appears after a storm ends. That means the manbeasts have crossed between our world and theirs and no human could stand a chance to return.
It is far too dangerous to go into the forest. But if you must, you cannot go alone. You will never see the sun once you step foot into this land of trees, for it has never had a day without fog. You may also get attacked by a manbeast that roams! Even the most innocent animal you find could secretly be a manbeast as they are magical shapeshifters - you must never trust your eyes in this dangerous and magical forest…
No one enters the Brecilian Forest, and no one supposedly ever comes out. It was the perfect place to run to and hide, possibly forever. And so one day, a young human did. It was quiet, too quiet for the his liking. Birds did not sing and animals did not scurry around. There was no wind and the water he finds are still. But it did not deter him from continuing forward. The young human felt hunger and stumbled upon an odd tree that grew strangely colored apples. They looked so fresh, shiny, and (hopefully) juicy that they were begging to be bitten into. As if the the Maker willed it, an apple dropped from its branch, effectively hitting the poor human square on the head. Annoyed, but food has now became readily available to him and he swiftly knelt to pick up the purple apple. It was only a moment of admiration before he took a bite. Oh it was delectable! So sweet, so full of tasty apple juice, and perfectly crisp at the bite! As he neared the end of his snack, a soft thud caught his attention. Beside him another apple had fallen. Another thud. Another apple. Another thud and the young man fell over.
When he next woke, the human found himself on the path outside the forest along with a bruise on his head. He was swiftly found by his family before he had the chance to act on his need to return within the trees, for he had lost his golden earring.
The eyes in the forest soon saw the young man again when he returned with a basket. The man showed no hesitance when he entered. It took a bit of wandering but soon he found his way back to the odd apple tree. With a few jumping and stone throwing to get some apples to fall, his basket became filled and he left the forest on his own. Maybe the forest will have more visitors now that a human has come here not once, but twice. But they never did. It was the same visitor and never more. He’d come with a basket, fill it up with colorful apples, and leave.
It seemed the human enjoyed humming. The forest didn’t have such…sounds. This filled the nothingness with soft tunes. The human often scanned the ground in search of something. But as time went by, the human stopped. Instead, he brought other materials besides a basket.
He touched the tree, drew in front of it, and observed the growth of this tree and its apples during the changing seasons until he learned the best times to pick from it. He made his own pattern, and often showed up when the apples were the ripest and just about ready to be picked from or had fallen. He started coming here less, but he spent more time there when he did visit.
The human has fallen asleep at the base of the trunk. It has been so long since he remained still like this…
When the man awoke, he was laying atop of a bed of flower pedals. The smell was breathtaking. It reminded him of the perfume his mother used to wear. He saw he was not far from the tree at all, but these pedals surely were not here before, even with the thickness of the mist here. The man discovered a flower crown on top of his head, and smiled at the thought of bringing home something that reminded him of his mother. Days passed before he realized he was missing his bracelet.
The leaves were falling. They died a lot of faster in this forest, the air was significantly cooler than it was outside, and the fog was thicker. The human didn’t seem to mind. Bundled up under a feathered cloak he made his way to the tree again. The human has grown significantly taller over the years and no longer needed to go about knocking down apples when he had to get the ones that haven’t fallen. Today he only picked up the orange colored apples. When the grass no longer held his preferred color of the day, he started jumping up to grab the orange ones from the lowest branches. While scanning for more his foot accidentally kicked his basket and the apples came tumbling out. Some didn’t get far, but others rolled away and dipped into the water nearby. The human sometimes rested by this mysterious still-watered river, but never stayed for long, often mumbling about it being “too cold” and “weird that it never moves.” He followed the trail of his runaway apples before kneeling beside the water. With an outreached hand he was able to nab one from that stopped floating too far away. But there were still that kept moving away from him until they disappeared into the thick fog. The human stared in hopelessness. Before he could get up to return to finding more from the tree, he heard the water splash. He froze in confusion and soon saw a few apples drifting his way until it touched his side of land.
“Is someone there?” He found himself asking, trying to see if there was something to be seen. It was hard to make out anything through the fog but he could could see moving shadows on the other side of the waters. “Hey, um, thank you!” he lifted the fruits from the water to place in his basket but did not hear a response when he finished. A part of him wanted to let it be, as one should not question what goes on in this forest. Though he could not resist staying as curiosity got the better of him. “Hmm…I could’ve sworn there was one more…!”
Splash!
Another apple came drifting his way from the fog. He could not help but let out a soft laugh as he picked up the fruit. He stopped when a brand new voice was heard, for a moment, laughing along with him.
“Hello…?” the man leaned forward, still eyeing the shadowy figure on the other side.
“Hello.”
The man gasped when a response actually came. “H-Hi! Who are you?”
“Is it not rude in your culture to ask for another’s name without giving your own?” the voice was deep, and oh so wondrous. Never has he recalled a simple question ever sounding so smooth and rich to his ears.
“Oh? I suppose…” he shivered under his cloak as he sat himself down on the dirt, wanting to converse with this stranger. “I’m…um, sorry, you can just call me…Anders. And you?”
“Anders.” the stranger repeated.
The human flushed, not expecting to like how that sounded with this stranger’s voice.
“I have different names as well. You may call me Fenris.” The figure shifted again, but seemingly settled as Anders was.
“Fenris…like a wolf? Oh, excuse my rudeness, but are you maybe one of those ‘manbeasts’ from our stories?” impossible! Even though he very much knew anything might be possible in this strange forest.
“Perhaps. My people have been given many names by yours over the years. Most of them not kind. I would not know what the current stories of us are. Most of us do not tread far beyond these trees.”
“Oh…Well, I um…I wouldn’t really blame you. I like it here myself. I mean…it was kind of scary at first - too quiet, and a little dark. But it’s not so bad.”
“I am aware. You are amusing to watch.”
“Wh-What?! You knew of me being here?!” Anders could see Fenris give a slight head tilt, as if in confusion at the outburst.
“Yes. You are not very quiet. But you are an interesting to watch, and you leave nice gifts some days.”
“What? I do not leave…” his voice trailed off as he thought back to things he has lost over the years: his jewelry, his trinkets, some flowers a village girl gave him once, and even snacks! “Those…weren’t gifts though.”
“But they were very pretty.”
“I’m glad you think so, I thought they were pretty too, but…I was not even aware there was another person here to even gift them to…” Any anger that rose was swiftly diminished as this stranger seemed genuinely confused about the ordeal. He rather did miss his things, but at least he finally knew he wasn’t losing them.
“…I see.”
Anders wasn’t sure what he heard in the other’s tone. It sounded like disappointment, but he could not pinpoint why.
The strange continued after a moment’s thought. “That was disrespectful of me, Anders. And I apologize. You’re…tch…a human. I know that is not an excuse, but you do not fit the description of humans from what I was taught and from what I have seen. You act more intelligent than most.”
Anders almost nodded in understanding. So they are different in someway. Anders knew of other species besides humans. There were the dwarves and the qunari, and surely others he never met before. Humans must’ve drove away this stranger’s people in the past. In each other’s absence, it seemed the creations of ‘lowly, stupid, humans’ and ‘manbeasts’ have taken shape in each other’s history. Not that Anders could really blame them…he was not one to vow for the intelligence of his own species.
“It’s alright…I mean, no harm done right? And I know humans can be, well, bad. They try to hide it, but our history shows it. I’m a bit weirded out but…I guess I can understand why you did what you did…”
“I thank you for your understanding, Anders. My people come into this world for things we do not have access to back home. We rarely see humans due to our enchantment of this forest. However, you kept coming back…”
Anders had so many questions he didn’t know where to start. It wasn’t just a separation of people, but worlds?
“Oh Maker, this all sounds so fascinating! I must be dreaming…”
“It is not dream. I can confirm that.”
Anders softly laughed to himself. Maybe that’s a question to ask another time, but perhaps he did not want to know.
“Alright, Fenris. I believe you. I um…rather you do not watch me in secret from now on though. Can you…come out from the fog?”
“…We should not identify ourselves to humans. You may think me as monstrous as your stories.”
Anders felt the urge to exclaim that he would never, but he went back to think about their history and lack of documentation of the ‘manbeasts’ that roam forests all over. True or not, it was still his people that painted them as such. Maybe it really is better this way…
“I…understand,” he forced himself to say. “Can we…still talk? You don’t have to show yourself.”
“What would we discuss?”
“Anything! We…can ask some questions and learn about each other.”
“Ask questions…such as: what do you do with the…apples?”
“Yes!” Anders replied excitedly, “Questions like that! Um…I bake them into sweets. Like apple pies.”
“Apple pies…” the stranger repeated, as if testing the phrase.
“You never had apple pies?” the short silence that followed confirmed that the stranger had not. Anders was flabbergasted. How did the stranger never once smell his apple pies that surely drifted from his farm’s window? “I shall bring one next time! And we can share it!”
“That sounds…wonderful. Do you create food for your people?”
“Well, sort of? I’m human and even I get tired of other humans. It can get lonely though…But see, I live on a farm. Well it used to be a farm. I own a lot of the land but I don’t utilize most of it now. It’s a bit harder nowadays. People pay me to make them certain foods, but I’ve been using my space to save some animals! Do you like cats…?”
“Cats…yes. I prefer the white striped beasts.”
Anders chuckled. “Maybe not those kinds of cats. I cannot keep big beasts in my home. Like…um, here.” Anders’s hands moved around under his cloak. After a moment, a furry head popped out under his cloak, “This is Miss Sweety-Hearty-Pie. She’s shy.” The reddish tinted cat looked around briefly before ducking her head back under the warmth of Anders’s cloak. He chuckled as his hands moved around to tuck the cat somewhere warm again.
“That is a tiny creature.” Fenris noted out loud.
“Yeah, most cats are. In comparison to the beasts you described at least. But I like them small. You get to hold and cuddle them.”
“And that pleases you?”
“Very. Do you not cuddle pets?”
“We have many magnificent and beautiful creatures in our land, but I suppose not many of us…cuddle them.”
“Well that is why I love cats! They’re one of the rare creatures you can hold in your arms- Brr…” Anders shivered upon finishing his statement. He noted he could see his own breath in the cold. Maker, how long has he been in here? “Sorry…I um…I may need to head back. I’m not usually in here for this long around this season.”
“I see…”
Anders could hear the disappointment in the other’s voice. “I’ll be back!” he quickly added.
“You do not come as often during this season, or the next. The apples are not as ripe.”
“Well…I can come back and just talk with you?”
“You would return? Just for conversation?”
“Is that sad? I mean I sort of know it is…but if you’re okay with that, I would like to?”
The moment’s pause from Fenris worried Anders, but finally Fenris replied. “That sounds…rather pleasant. I would like that very much.”
Anders smiled. He was about to stand but paused as an idea entered his mind. He swiftly removed his hair tie and plucked some of the feathers off his cloak. With a bit of quick handiwork he attached some of the feathers to his band. From the ground he picked up a small rock and wrapped his hairtie around it. “I’ll give you a real gift. Can you catch?” Anders saw a vague outline of movement and possibly a pair of arms stick out. He carefully tossed the rock over and deemed it a success when there was not a splash. “I know it is not much…and I don’t even know what you look like so you might not even have hair! But…you can hold onto it or put it somewhere. And every time I come back, I can give you a new feather!”
“That…Thank you, Anders. I shall wait here for then. I look forward to your return.”
Anders’s face felt warm again, though this time he wasn’t sure from what. He gave a smile before he stood to leave.
Fenris shifted through the trees, hidden behind the fog that cloaked him so thoroughly from the human eye. He was swift as he followed Anders until the edge of the forest. Fenris stayed, watching from a high branch. Anders would travel down the path, alone, until he reached the little house in the distance. Fenris remembered seeing more humans around the home over the years. Then one day he realized it was only Anders that went in and out the house. Fenris leaned against the tree as he wondered what it was like beyond this forest. The sight before him was beautiful: The sun fell perfectly behind the house, and at night the moon would shine above it. Sometimes he could see smoke coming from the roof at the top of the home and light from the windows that brought out Anders’s outline. Despite the seemingly beautiful world, Anders kept leaving the beautiful imagery Fenris saw to this enchanted forest that was meant to keep travelers out.
Fenris looked in his hand, examining the gift. He slipped it onto his wrist, letting it rest with the bangle he took from Anders once before. Perhaps these previous items really were not gifts then. Everything from the earring he wore on his pointed ears to a simple necklace around his neck. They did not feel as important anymore, not as important as the one he had just received from Anders.
When Fenris saw Anders’s small silhouette enter the house, followed by light in the windows, he deemed Anders was safe. Fenris returned deep into the Brecilian Forest, into his own home in another realm. He found he never stayed too long, not as much as he should. Fenris often returned to his new favorite tree whenever the human - no- Anders paid a visit.
