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A/N: This is for @satanasss666 and their Apprentice, Sven! Who is literally the most handsome fan Apprentice I have ever seen, like dayum.
Sven grumbled as he jumped and leapt from buildings and poles, angry about the whole situation.
Another fight with the prissy little new meat Asra had brought in that made the bastard storm out. Asra hadn’t gotten in the middle of it, hoping that his two apprentices would work it out for themselves. But apparently not; Widdle Aneirin got his silks in a twist and bounced to go pout.
Just because Sven didn’t feel intimidated by the posh punk. The bastard had been nothing less than an annoying thorn in his side. Always telling him that he shouldn’t be so this or as much of that. Everything Sven did or said was met with sanctimonious criticism that rubbed him the wrong way. It took all of his will-power not to snap his stupid neck.
He clearly remembered when Asra brought him in. Something about their parents being old friends or whatever. He was wearing some ridiculously high quality clothes, with little silk ribbons attached to golden wrist and arm bands. Everything was green and gold with this guy. Not to mention he wore make-up; not that was inherently a bad thing. It was just the fact that even his make-up was gold. He also chose to talk ‘properly’ and ‘with good diction’. It just sounded so stupid to Sven and forced. No one should have that clean of a mouth.
Either way, they got along like oil and fire, and Asra was the tired firefighter trying to keep the peace. He didn’t even know what set Aneirin off so badly this time, just that they were screaming and suddenly he huffed right out of the door. It took a few shocked moments for the other two to realize what happened. Then, they had their own heated exchange as Asra almost demanded Sven go after him to apologize to him. Which was stupid and dumb and he didn’t want to. But Asra was adamant and after several withering looks, he hopped his happy ass out of the door and towards finding him.
The fight had been early in the afternoon and it was just now starting to become dusk. He wondered if he should just head back to the shop now, as he had searched across most of the usual places. The Market, the Town Square, the Community Theater…even that frilly restaurant Aneirin likes to go to sometimes. But there was neither hide nor hair of this little punk and Sven was absolutely done with it all.
He turned to go back to the shop when a familiar looking white creature ran up towards him. The fat little weasel’s fur was dirty and he looked scared. “Dumpling?” He knelt to allow the terrified creature into his arms. Aneirin was an asshole, but Dumpling was a treasure. He always wanted to cuddle up to Sven and he was just so stupidly sweet that there was no way he could hate him.
He was panting heavily and made panicked little squeaking noises that Sven had never heard before. There was a moment of confusion as he wondered why Aneirin would let his most beloved familiar just roam around the streets. It was absolutely unthinkable.
The weasel squeaked again and looked away, towards the Coliseum. He seemed to frantically gesture there, almost as if he wants Sven to go there. Something must be happening and with that though, he tucks Dumpling into one of his pouches and races across town with a fire under his feet. It didn’t take long for him to get to the Coliseum, as he seemed to know the way by heart. Once there, he rushed inside to look for Aneirin but he didn’t have to look very far.
In the center, he could see a large group of men surrounding a single man, as if they were accosting him. The flash of green and gold caught his eye and as he looked harder, he could see that it truly was Aneirin.
“Hey! Iri!” He called out, getting everyone’s attention. “What the fuck?!” Sven started walking towards them, and everyone noticed his limp.
The biggest man, probably the leader, sneered at him. “What’s this, your boyfriend?” His voice was full of condescension. “You’re fucking a crippled? And you won’t fuck us?” He turns to give Aneirin an angry look, which Aneirin returned. He didn’t look scared or intimidated and Sven had to give him credit; the men surrounding him were at least a foot taller than him and way more muscled.
But the term crippled made his blood boil. “I’m not crippled enough to beat all of your asses, you son of bitch!” He hollers, already unsheathing Gertrude and Delilah.
Aneirin seems unimpressed by all of this. “He is not anything near my lover, you brainless brute. But he is my fellow and I suggest you leave before we have to get physical with you.” He huffs, picking up a bag and beginning to walk away. “Of course, I cannot be held accountable for him slicing off your foot for using such vulgar terms for a disabled man but-” He squawked indignantly when the leader grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back, holding him close to the other man’s body.
The leader starts feeling him up, despite Aneirin’s protests. “You think we’re scared of a little crippled? You got big swords, I got an even bigger one, boy!” He started laughing until he felt up Aneirin’s chest and made a quizzical noise. “What…?” The young magician just froze. “You got tits?! You’re a little woman?!”
The smaller man just ripped himself away, storming over to a surprised Sven, his face on fire. There were catcalls and vulgar terms being thrown at Aneirin now, all having to do with his supposedly being a woman. The men were following them and soon enough, they were surrounded.
“Shite.” Sven cursed, looking at all of them. There was about fifteen or twenty of them. He didn’t think he could take them all but he’d never say that. “Just stay behind me, Iri, I’ll protect-”
He was cut off by a crackling sound and the scent of ozone in the air. There was a faint golden glow behind him and he just managed to see Aneirin holding out a rapier, the blade made of golden lightning. Another one formed in his hand and there was a deep pitch to his voice, filled with dark anger. “I’m going to kill this motherfucker.” He snarled, referring to the leader, and Sven felt his eyes widen.
The men seemed taken aback by this but the leader only smiled. “Let’s get ‘em, men!” He took out his own greatsword and the others, emboldened by their leader’s confidence, took out their own weapons.
Sven stood there, dumbfounded for a moment, before he smirked. “Bring it on, bitches!”
“Prepare for the storm!”
The battle was quick but intense. While Sven was built for power and strength, Aneirin was built for speed and agility. Whenever one of the bastards would attack, Aneirin would go in for a few quick disarming strikes before Sven would wreck their shit. His blades were made to shock and disorient, but not to kill. Sven held no reservations and though that wasn’t the purpose of this fight, he couldn’t help the one or two bodies he left in his wake.
Finally, it was just the leader; all of his men were groaning on the ground, some of them twitching. Sven made a move to attack him, but was held back by Aneirin. “I said I was going to kill him.” He dropped his rapiers and the blades disappeared.
The leader, obviously worn down and out of his league, smirked. “You gonna kill me with no weapons? You must be one dumb bitch.”
Aneirin didn’t say a word, just staring at the larger man. With a fluid motion, he swept back the hair hiding his left eye and Sven gaped. The eye had two deep, violent looking scars going from his forehead to his cheekbone, the eye a much lighter gold than his other eye. Suddenly, small bolts of lightning started forming around his eye, growing in power and intensity until his whole eye was covered. Golden light started forming in his hand and the leader took a step back.
“W-Wait, what the fuck?!” He shouted, fear now starting to overtake him.
It would be his last words as Aneirin lifted his hand to the sky, where storm clouds suddenly started forming. In a flash of golden light, lightning struck the leader no less than three times, each time more intense than the last.
Once all was said and done, the leader was nothing more than a charred corpse, unrecognizable. The power around Aneirin’s eye vanished and he fixed his hair to cover his eye again.
Sven had just stood there, dumbfounded the whole time. He was impressed by the display and he jumped when Aneirin spoke. “Did Dumpling come find you?” He asked, still fixing his hair.
“Uh…” Was Sven’s only response.
Suddenly, said weasel jumped out of Sven’s pouch, where he had been the whole time. He rushed over to Aneirin and the man scooped up his baby. “Oh my darling!” He cooed, gently brushing him off. “You are absolutely filthy! I am so sorry to have made you go through all of that, my sweet baby boy!”
The fat creature was soaking up the attention and it brought Sven out of his daze. “What the fuck!” He yelled. “Was that!?” He gestured to the leader. “I didn’t know you could do that!”
Aneirin just looked at him with a small smirk. “You never asked.” Was his simple answer.
“Well…you got me there.”
He laughed, something sweet and tinkling. But then the other apprentice got a little bit serious. “Thank you, Sven, for coming to my rescue. I would have been quite fine by myself, probably, but having you to help was a great relief to me.” He looked away, blushing slightly. “I apologize for the way I have acted towards you. It was unfair and undignified to treat you with such immediate disrespect.”
That was unexpected. Sven blinked, putting away his swords. “Well…” He grumbled, crossing his arms. “I guess I could try to be a lil’ more friendly, if you’re gonna apologize.”
Aneirin gave him a genuine smile and the soft look in his eyes made Sven blush. “I would like that, darling.” And the pet name, while not unusual for Aneirin, was weird being directed at him.
“Don’t get used to it.” He said and there was that laugh again.
“I believe we should go back, yes? Shall I get a cart for you to ride in?” He asked, and Sven wanted to bite a no but after everything that happened…
“Whatever you wanna do.”
Another smile. “Excellent.” He started out of the Coliseum and before he got too far, he turned around to look at him. “Sven, you know…” Sven looked up at Aneirin, who had a wry look in his eyes. “You made a very dashing figure while we were fighting. You would be a very handsome hero in a romance tale.” With that, he winked at the other apprentice and skipped out of earshot.
“The goat is so far beneath me, I could care less about his ‘eyebrow game’. My darling firebrand, however, has the most exquisite brows...good to kiss and pet. I love them so much. Jealous? Darling, you can never be jealous of perfection.”
My wonderful, amazing, stupendous, incredible, extraordinary friend, @bunch-of-chaos made these amazing expressions for Aneirin! I’m just so happy and blessed that he did them. Please scream about how good they are with me.
Once I get asks and the like, I can reply with these expressions!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Barbarian, Monk and Sorcerer for the D&D ask please uwu
“Ooh, these are interesting!”
Barbarian: What causes your character to become enraged more so than anything else?: *Snarls with the most lethal venom* “That cowardly, pretentious, rotten, disgusting goat. I fucking hate him so much. He’s hurt too many of the people I love and care about and I want to go back in time just so I can wrap my hands around his throat and watch the life drain from his eyes. I want to utterly humiliate and break him, just so he can get a taste of the misery he inflicted on others in his wasted life.”
Monk: What natural physical abilities does your character possess? Can they perform acrobatic stunts, can they effectively punch an opponent, or can they do nothing but cower in fear when danger comes?: “I...admittedly...have very few actual skills. Reading the Tarot Deck, sensing the auras of others, lightning magic and skill with my rapiers are the few I possess. While some others are made for strength and raw physical power sven I am more equipped for speed and agility. And darling, I would rather die with my pride in a fight than live with the shame of running like a coward. I am no goat.”
Sorcerer: What comes naturally to your character that would require other people to train or to study in order to accomplish?: “The aforementioned skills. Due to...the blindness in my left eye, I can see the auras of other people.
“Asra’s aura hugs his body but I can see the little slivers of lavender which comforts me.
Nadia’’s radiates outwards like the sun, a dazzling royal purple sun that I can bask in.
Julian’s aura takes the form of wings behind his back. They’re gray in color. They seem to wrap around his loved ones to protect them; Portia, Asra, Nadia...they even try to wrap around Muriel.
Muriel...Muriel’s aura is so...breathtaking. It is green, green like the trees of the forest. I see World Trees growing from his might back, a whole forest on his shoulders. He is a Guardian, one that takes the path of peace. I love it so.
Portia is also a sun but of a bright orange.
“As for other’s aura’s...well, you may ask me what your aura looks like, darling! But remember, it is just what I see, not what other’s may see.”
