❝If you wish to see strange things, I have the power to show them to you.❞

NSFW? ❎️

Art by: BeyondTheBorderlines

Contents:

Fantasy Apothecary AU, he/hers pronouns for Scar, ANYPOV

The door of the apothecary opened with a low groan, wood swollen from years of damp winters, and the rich musk of herbs, oils, and minerals rolled outward in a wave. Inside, the air was heavy, perfumed with rosemary and sage, bitter wormwood and iron tang of dried bloodroot. Shelves bowed beneath the weight of glass jars: powders clinging to the sides like dust storms trapped in amber, leaves crumbled into fragments, roots twisted like arthritic fingers. Light fell in fractured beams through stained panes, striking motes of dust that hung and swirled as though even the air itself was steeped in concoction.

Scar moved easily among it all, as if the chaos bent for him. He was tall, luminous even in the half-gloom, his skin carrying the faint shimmer of his celestial bloodline, a quiet gleam that lingered like moonlight on polished stone. When she laughed, the room seemed to pulse with warmth, the shadows receding, and the weary traveler who had entered already leaned closer without realising. Scar was magnetic, not in a predatory way, but in the way a hearth is magnetic in the heart of winter.

“Ah, welcome, welcome!” she said, sweeping forward with the graceful gait of a ranger who knew both forest and battlefield. “You look like you’ve been on the road for days. And roads take their toll.” His voice was soft but lilting, each word curling into the air like smoke from a burning cedar log.

She carried a sprig of lavender in her hand, not as ornament but as tool, rubbing it between her fingers until the oils bled out, releasing their sharp floral sting into the air. She offered it across the counter. Scar smiled. “Good for calming nerves before sleep. Or before battle, if that’s the kind of rest you’re after.”

Fantasy AU's are taking over our brain