#glariza

Ah sure, let me flex my creative muscles. You are really into the obscure characters, arent you? Here we go:

Like many Demon civilians, Glariza grew up under extreme poverty and often had to hunger for days on end.

She dreamed of a life in Britannia where people are said to go to bed with a full stomach every night.

When Demon Gowther found her, he took her to his home where he prepared her the most well-tasting meal she had ever had. Since then, neither of them ate a single soul, a mentality often frowned upon by other Demons.

Glariza helped Gowther with his studies whenever she could and became quite knowledgeable in various fields of mgic herself, even though she had little talent for it.

When Gowther misconducted an experiment which backfired and bound him to his weelchair, it was Glariza who healed him back to health.

Her most prized posession is the necklace Gowther gave her as a birthday present.

After many years, Gowther and Glariza at last travelled to Britannia where they hoped to study the collected knowledge of Belialuin and planned to build a home.

Shorty thereafter, Glariza went out to help a group of Demon refugees and was killed by Mael.

Upheaval

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Creatore Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings  Categories: F/F, F/M, Multi Relationships: Estarossa/OC, Mael/OC, Meliodas/Elizabeth, Zeldris/Gelda Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, Alternate Universe, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Pre-Canon, Heartbreak, Angst Summary:  Reality is ever-changing, different worlds colliding in a never-ending dance of coincidence and fortune. Before the Holy War, a child is born into the Witch Clan; blessed by the Nameless God, she must navigate the world around her as tensions between the Clans threaten to ignite and engulf the world in chaos. At her side are two others, ones who bear similar faces despite being enemies, and they will either be her salvation . . . Or her ruin.

If his hasty departure had not raised any alarms, then his returning with a mortally wounded princess from another Clan certainly had. Estarossa shoulders through the servants who pause in the hallways to gape at him — or at Moth, more likely, given that she is pale and barely breathing, only the weak flutter of her pulse beneath his fingers letting him know that she is still alive — his pace urgent and hurried, until he arrives at his quarters. Inside is Meliodas, mouth twisted in a scowl that only deepens when he sees who Estarossa is carrying, but he says nothing as he stalks out, hopefully to grab one of the few healers their Clan has.

Estarossa places Moth on the bed, his hearts pounding in his chest, and a snarl of rage — anguish? — leaves him at the sight of the ribbon curled around her fingers, her skin red and irritated beneath it. Still, he forces himself to be careful as he removes it, worried that any rough movements on his part will only make her worse. The moment the silk is off of her arm, he clenches it in his fist and watches as Hellblaze devours it, gritting his teeth at the thought of that bastard leaving any sort of mark on Moth. Then he turns his attention back to her. What happened? His knowledge of Witch Clan customs is limited, yes, but he feels as though something so sacred to them should never cause suffering like this. Then the sound of the door opening alerts him to his brother's return, and he shifts his gaze to watch as Meliodas moves to lean against the wall, his arms crossed and his posture deceptively relaxed, and a healer enters nervously.

"I was told the princess is here?" Her voice is soft, uncertain. Estarossa does his best to reign in the urge to lash out at her; she is not responsible for Moth's condition, and may be the only chance she has to survive whatever malady this is.