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selenelavellan · 6 years

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Elder God Tattoos

(based loosely on this post and Feys and my tags on it.)

Dirthamen, Falon’din, Glory, Squish, and Vena are @feynites

Ana(mentioned) is @lycheemilkarts

TW for mentioned Abuse, Blood, and vague allusions to off-screen rape

Selene takes a deep breath, staring at the golden room number in front of her.

She's been in this buildings hallway for too long, she thinks. Security will be here soon, and then it's all over for her.

Her tattoos sting on her skin; Des's burns and tingles on her thigh, imbued with his magic to help her complete her task, while Dirthamen's is still tender and healing where he had placed it on her back.

Selene isn't sure what to expect on the other side of the apartment door.

Dirthamen had made vague mentions of mistreatment, of powers being taken and misused and onslaughts of verbal abuse. Some small part of her is still hoping she can just talk to the guy though. That she can just explain 'hey, you're doing a shitty job with your god, let's just get your tattoo removed and everything can go back to normal, and I won't have to kill you under the orders of my own god'.

Well.

Her first god, anyways. Guess she's 'high priestess'-ing for two now.

Like Des wasn't enough of a headache on his own.

They had warned her, before she left. Of tricks and violence and a thirst for blood that ran so deeply it had nearly corrupted Dirthamen. She knew that part, of course; had accepted the bond and the contract strictly to save him, to give him an anchor that hadn't conflicted so violently with his own so that he could survive the terrible things Falon'din was doing with his name, his power and his essence.

Selene had hoped, right up until she opened the door, that they were wrong. That Falon'din was the sort of man who could be reasoned with, could be spoken back down from his pedestal, could be convinced to come to a peaceful resolution.

But as the door clicks open beneath her touch, swinging open silently and revealing the goings on inside, she realizes the futility of her hopes.

She sees the golden hair, and the broken blue eyes, and the bloodied skin, and she knows.

She knows instantly, exactly what sort of a man Falon'din is.

“Who are-”

He never finishes the sentence.

Selenes own magics rise, elevated and escalated from her contract with Des as the power he had gifted to her courses through her veins and out through the palm of her hand, a blinding white fury of flames that engulfs him in an instant. She feels him pull at Dirthamen, tries to claw his way into his own contract-and it only requires a thought for her to sever it. To deem him unworthy of the bond, and to strip it from him. His mouth opens and his soul screams and for a moment she feels dangerously vindicated. Judgment and fury and the power to punish, the power to save, her power.

Her domain.

No more victims.

The light fades and the remaining ash falls to the ground.

Two blue eyes look up at her from beneath long golden locks. Silent and still and radiating fight or flight.

Selene sighs, and holds out a hand to help them stand.

“I...m sorry?” She tries, not very good at the consolation thing these days. “If you loved him or something. I know it can be a shock but-”

“I hated him.” They interrupt with a sureness that nearly startles her.

Well. That makes things easier, right?

“Cool,” Selene says with a slow nod. “Good. I guess uh...I guess I don't really need to worry about you like...reporting this, then? Like to cops, or templars, or anything like that?”

“And tell them what? An angel pulled me out of hell?” They snort, tears falling down the sides of their face that they don't seem to notice.

That’s shock, she thinks. Probably not a great sign.

“I'm not-Don't say that. That's not-I mean I definitely just killed a guy, please don't-don't say that.”

“He was a monster.”

“Yeah, that's what I heard,” Selene admits. “But like-probably murder isn't a great thing to idolize? Definitely a last resort.”

“Says the murderer.”

Selene winces. “I'm not-listen, I had strict orders from not one but two gods to do this, it's not my fault-You ever argued with a god? They don't have to stop for breath, ok? And there were two of them, I was double teamed, and then they distracted me with their-” She stops herself before she gets into any details about the previous nights events, clearing her throat and staring up at the ceiling for a moment.

She finally lets go of their hand.

“Do you have somewhere you can go?” She tries instead.

They stare out the window for a minute, before their face splits into a grin.

There's still blood on their teeth.

“Yeah,” They nearly laugh. “Yeah, I do.”

“Great,” Selene says with great relief; the last thing she needs right now is another house guest. “You should go there.”

“Where will you go?” They ask.

Selene blinks, pointing vaguely over her shoulder. “I was uh...I was just gonna go back home.”

“How can I find you again?”

Selene scrunches up her face, head shaking fervently “You shouldn't. Like you really-it'd be better if you just...didn't.”

“You saved my life.”

“That's a little dramatic...” Selene trails off, watching the blood trickle down the inside of their leg and trying to force herself to stay in the moment.

Don't go back there. Don't go back that way, back where they can't follow.

She runs her fingers through her hair, and curses under her breath while they continue staring at her in anticipation. There's a flyer for some local band sitting on the kitchen counter, and Selene scribbles her number on the back of it before holding it out for them.

They reach out, and she snags it back before they can grab it, holding their eye contact for a solid minute before finally warning.

“Don't need me. But if things get really bad...call this number.”

She lowers it back down, and lets them take the paper from her this time.

Selene gestures towards the door with her head. “You go out first. I'm going to do a little clean up in here.”

The elf holds her gaze for a moment before nodding and heading for the door. Their hand is still on the doorknob when they finally speak again.

“He deserved it, you know. He deserved worse.”

Selene bites down on her bottom lip, staring down at the pile of ash.

“Go.”

–

News of the apartment fire is playing on low volume over Selenes television while she drinks her coffee. The fire she had used to burn any lingering evidence didn't spread to the other apartments, and her wards had been generic enough they seem to be assuming they were placed there by the apartment managers.

Nothing to link her to it.

Nothing but some golden haired elf wandering somewhere with her number in their pocket.

“You did well,” Des purrs, appearing on the arm of her couch. His tail curls over her thigh, siphoning his lingering magics back into himself while he watches the news report play.

“Thanks,” She mutters quietly, still unnerved and uncomfortable from the scene she had walked in on earlier.

“I am sorry for the trouble it caused,” Dirthamen adds, appearing beside her to lean his head on her shoulder.

“It saved someone, so...it worked out. They seemed to agree it was for the best, anyways.”

“You let them go?” Des perks. “I thought you were all worried about being caught by templars and such. Someone who could identify you seems rather...messy.”

“It's fine,” Selene says without further explanation.

They know, anyways. They can pry through her memories at will, prod at her magics, tie her up in whatever matters they see fit. There's no secrets between them; there's no room for it. She's the only thing tethering them to this world right now, the only one left who believes in them.

The only one left who loves them.

But they love her in return, and she enjoys the knowledge and the lost stories, and the companionship they give to her so freely.

“We need a way to generate an income,” She muses aloud. “Something less obvious than 'local elven woman wins lottery for third time in three years'.”

“You certainly weren't complaining before,” Des mumbles.

Selene glances up at him and frowns. “What sort of skills do you have?”

“I am a God,” Des preens. “I have all of them.”

“Uh-huh,” Selene deadpans “What does the little squiggly red line under words on the computer mean when I'm typing?”

Des purses his lips. “It means mortals have a different definition of 'skill' than I do.”

“Uh-huh,” Selene repeats, taking a small sip of her drink.

Selene considers her options, leaning her head on top of Dirthamens. What could she do that would help? What could she do that would make a difference, could actually improve things?

She looks down at Dirthamen, and glances back up at Des.

“...Are there other gods like you that are looking for people to bond to?”

–

It takes the better part of six months to finally open the shop.

Elder God Tattoos.

Not exactly subtle, but...it works.

Mostly she just does regular tattoos; flowers, stars, dolphins. Non-enchantment work. Builds up her portfolio, and keeps an ear out for good people having bad times. She's very careful about her selections; tries her best to make sure the people match the gods, that they're compatible, that there's no risk of corruption on either side.

The first year she's open, she only does the one.

A young elven woman comes in, suffering from the loss of a recent close family member and hoping to bring some semblance of order and joy back to her life. Selene has Venavismi follow her for a week, to see if he would be interested.

“I like her,” Vena grins, twirling around her ceiling and bursting with bright blooms of flowers and fruits. “Little Banana-Ana.”

Selene gives the woman his tattoo, after explaining the situation.

She leaves out the part where 'sometimes you might have to kill somebody for him', in hopes that maybe she'll just be a little luckier than she was.

But it has been six months now, and they have adjusted to each other wonderfully.

Selene nearly breathes a sigh of relief, before a too familiar elf wanders into her shop.

“I heard they do good work here, and I was-” Squish, a nice young woman that Des favors is saying before the elf who had walked in beside her freezes.

Ah, shit.

“You're-”

“Welcome to Elder God Tattoos!” Selene interrupts before they can say anything. “Here for another browse through Squish? Or have you finally decided on a design?”

“Still browsing, though I think I've narrowed it down,” Squish grins. “I brought my signif Glory with me. Thought they'd get a kick out of the place, and I wanted their input. You don't mind, do you Selene?”

“Nope,” She lies, smiling right back and doing her best to pretend she isn't panicking internally. “Take your time.”

Squish plops down onto the plush waiting rooms couches and starts browsing through the thick binders of past work Selene has done, and Selene excuses herself to the back room.

And that's when she finally lets herself panic.

Dirthamen feels it first, popping into being in front of her, todays talons resting carefully on her shoulders.

“What is the matter?”

“The elf-the elf is here. The one who knows. The one who saw me.”

“...Lots of elves have seen you.”

“The one who saw me obliterate Falon'din,” Selene hisses. “Shit, shit, we should've moved before we did this, I'm such an idiot, shit-”

“It is alright,” Dirthamen assures her, pulling her into him as his arms and wings wrap around her. The feathers covering his chest should be uncomfortable, probably, but mostly they just smell like him and it's reassuring. Grounding. Keeps her in the moment.

“I've got this,” Des says, appearing in a solid form behind her and striding into the waiting room before she can escape Dirthamen's grip to stop him.

Selene struggles, but Dirthamen holds her tighter until she relents. Nothing is exploding and no one is yelling so that's...that's good, right? That's a good sign? Things aren't a total disaster in her shop right now, maybe?

Des comes back into the room a few minutes later, Squish and Glory in tow.

“They're cool,” He announces.

Selene lets out a loud groan.

“You're the one who killed Falon'din?” Squish asks, and Selene has to resist the urge to glare at Des or Glory, still bound up in Dirthamens arms as she squirms enough to be able to see them.

“I...that's a complicated question, really. Were you...friends?”

Squish snorts. “No.”

Selene nods silently.

It's awkward.

Des apparently explained the whole situation to them, which Selene could really have lived without.

But they start coming by more often after that.

Like friends might.

They bring in clients and potential clients, apparently running some sort of elven aid/vengeance program on their own that Selene figures she's better off not knowing the details about. She runs a strange business of her own, finding followers for Gods that are fading from existence. It makes her grateful for her own situation, in a strange way.

Grateful for that drunken night when she ended up with Des. Grateful that they found Dirthamen when they did, and grateful that he wanted to stick around.

And when she crawls into bed at night and feels them wrap around her, she finally feels calm. Happy.

They make the moments worth being present for.

#elder god tattoo au #dirthalene #selene lavellan #des #uhhh yeah i had an idea and i had to get it out #started daydreaming about glory eventually bringing their younger sibling uthvir by to hang #and glory is just like 'nah selenes cool its fine'#and selene is like 'its NOT fine this is exactly what i didnt want to have happen actually'#but she's always got food and starts keeping the magazines they read and has spare clothes and a safe place for them when they need it #now she's got her god boyfriends and her mortals-that-think-shes-a-murderer friends and everything is complicated #better #but complicated #mind the warnings

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