#omen is a liquid and doesn't have a face

[kaiserouo]

if i post like 11 ideas of kay/o/omen from a game i don't even wanna play or spend hours researching lore for will i get rekt by the whole community or what

[empyreanwizard]

about miquella's kidnapping, you know the charm only works if miq gets really close in your face (see heart stolen + freyja's account of being healed) and it doesn't do a 180° in your personality (the npcs in the shadow realm are there to show us how it affects them and we can see it didn't change their personality) what the charm does is: make you non-violent (see heart stolen) makes you forget bad things (see leda and ansbach remembering "cascading sheets of blood" after the charm is broken)

if anything, I'd say the charm would've made him more sane, take thioller for example he's completely obsessed with trina after the charm is broken, to the point where he tries to kill you after she talks to you

compare thioller's dialogue:

"i am her chosen, not you. only I can doze off in the sea of st. trina"

and

"only i am allowed to know. of your velvety sleep. its sweetly gentle embrace. so please, smile—for me, and only me." (st. trina's smile)

to mohg's dialogue:

"miquella is mine and mine alone"

both are possessive and obsessed. miquella's charm nullified thioller's obsession, and I have no reason to believe miquella can just pick and choose the side effects his charm will have.

my points on why miquella did not want to be kidnapped

1 - he wouldn't have cocooned himself for a long ass time like he did otherwise. and you know he was there for a long time because he's all skinny and covered in cocoon liquid stuff. and mohg wouldn't need to break open his cocoon like he did, he would just take it back to his palace

2 - miquella couldn't have known mohg even existed. he lived in the sewers his whole life, and miquella never went to the sewers. also, even if he did, he couldn't have charmed him there bc otherwise ansbach would never know to differentiate a non-charmed mohg from a charmed mohg .

3 - mohg is already a established kidnapper. from the "war surgeon gown":

"Bloodstained white gown of the war surgeons who were effectively mercy killers. Of the surgeons that were abducted by the Lord of Blood, none were able to tame the accursed blood. None but Varré, that is; though he was an exception."

4 - mohg had his own reasons to kidnap miquella. he wanted to build his blood dynasty and to become a lord, as ansbach says he was seeking lordship, and the consort of an empyrean is a lord by right (see dark moon ring description). miquella is the only empyrean available, as ranni is presumed dead and malenia already has a god inside of her (and he could never kidnap her), leaving only miquella who apparently doesn't have an outer god meddling inside of him, so perfect vessel for the formless mother

now, you're probably wondering "well if the mohg thing wasn't planned, who would be used as a vessel for his consort??" to answer that, miquella probably didn't know he needed a vessel in the first place, as the ">>>secret<<< rite scroll" is only found in the shadow realm, he couldn't have known about that thing while living in the lands between.

verdict: miquella was forced to switch plans after the kidnapping (can't complete anything he starts curse yadda yadda), mohg did not beat the allegations, and miquella got his revenge for being used (mohg was living/sleeping inside his corpse how do yall forget this???) by using mohg's corpse to house his promised consort's soul somehow (which is awful too, but that goes without saying)

remember, the story in the dlc is there to parallel his ascension to marika's ascension. in this case, the hornsent killed and tortured marika's people, and she responds by genociding and terrorizing the hornsent people. mohg used and abused miquella's corpse, and he responded by using mohg's corpse.

marika = miquella

hornsent = omen

I just think it's weird that so many people are running off with the assumption that miquella, who the dlc all but confirm has the body AND mentality of a child, was charming mohg out of malicious intent rather than self-defense. remember he was probably never trained to fight nor does he have the strength to do it, the charm is basically his self-defense mechanism.

I think the main issue is that if you disagree on even the littlest thing here, the whole narrative shifts, and that's why there's so many different interpretations and confused people.

this is all subjective and there's no reason to claim my interpretation is the correct one ofc but I do think I make a good argument.

[adthedarkcowboy]

(For disclaimer, I'm fully aware this deserves a visit to good omens police, but I need angst. Btw I'm also crying about this)

Crowley was sitting in his Bentley-in snake form-curled up in the black seats,sleeping while heavily drunk.

Aziraphale had left him,without warning. But any amount of warning, or even preparation, would've helped. His only best friend is this cold bitter world, was gone.It was like the book shop burned down again, only this time Aziraphale wasn't in it and just left Crowley.

Oddly enough,though he was parked outside of the book shop. Suddenly his car radio clicked on to static, waking him up.

He turned back quickly and shut the radio off completely,rubbing his temples in order to soothe his head ache.But two things woke him up fully;he was not in Barkley Square anymore, and instead of feeling Muriels holy presence from the bookshop, he felt a demonic one. Not what you're probably thinking of-the cruel,hateful,fallen sense of a demon.No, he felt a demonic presence, of a newly fallen angel.

It confused him, but it was a demonic presence in the bookshop non the less,so he started to get out of the car.The Bentley driving him to the bookshop was odd,but it must have been for a good reason,right?

Opening the doors with a 'closed' sign on them, he shouted, "Alright,which one of you unholy bastards is in here?Furfur?Shax? I'll have you know that,this is still run by an angel!"

Nothing, not a single sound,could be heard for a few seconds, until Muriel spoke up.

"M-mr. Crowley? I-is that you?"

She sounded shaky, and perhaps some what in pain. Crowley softened and began to look for them. "Muriel, I think there's a de..."His voices trailed off, seeing them.

Muriel was sitting in the middle of the book shop, with their wings revealed,and both their clothes and wings were black. A pool of black liquid could be seen around them, and tears on their face were also very visible.

"Mr. Crowley, they….I fell. Did...did I do something wrong?" They said, voice shaking.

✨Flashback✨

Muriel was in heaven, standing in front of Micheal and Uriel. They had called them up to have a chat about their position in heaven. Micheal was seated at her desk while Uriel stood in front of it.

"Muriel,was it? We are aware that you have talked to the demon Crowley. And you have also helped and allowed him to see secret files,yes?"Micheal started.

Muriel nervously looked for an answer, but couldn't find one and only nodded.

Micheal turned to Uriel saying with a smug look on her face. " That seems like fraternizing, doesn't it?That deserves an execution by hellfire,surely."

Uriel didn't turn her head, only looked at the 37th degree recording angel, with a blank expression. But she answered. “Oh, but it wouldn’t make a good message to Crowley about who we are to him and our new supreme archangel.”

Micheal rolled her eyes at that last part. Aziraphale was an okay archangel, but she was an archangel first afterall.

She stood up, walking over to Muriel, saying “But it deserves a punishment, non the less, does it not?” She was beside Muriel, but looking over to Uriel.

Muriel was scared and lost in thought. Were they being promoted, surely not, or were they going to……fall. They looked over to Uriel, expecting an answer to Micheals question.

Uriel looked back at them, the expression on their face turning into a smug smile, then looking to Micheal.

“If execution is out of the picture,then the only option left is to let the damned thing fall into hell.”

“But wait-”before Muriel could answer, they were falling into boiling sulphur. Pain, sadness and lost faith was the only thing they could feel. They screamed for anyone and anything to save them.

So here we are again, with Crowley and the not so holy Muriel, the fallen angel.

Ima end it here bc I’m tired. BUT I can guarantee that this is not the end.

[karmawind-a]

@renjisei: It was almost behind him like a shadow that did not need the sun to exist. Like a whisper in his head when he was alone. They seemed so similar - but inside, each was going through his own struggle. The quiet clatter of tall boots echoed against the floorboards as Vidyadhara approached the window. He remembered that the sun was warm, even pleasant when he worked in its rays. Red eyes, dimmed by the presence of the mara looked into the reflection, almost his own. But it was not him, not anymore. " I don't want you to feel what I feel. No one deserves a blow that seals life in such a pathetic way. " He put his finger to the glass and began tapping gently. It was as if he was counting down every second between them. A quiet sigh escaped from under his lips and he finally dared to turn to Ying Xing. Dragon eyes looked into his. " I promised that I would do my best to make sure this doesn't happen again. Even if I had to rip the last seed of mara out of you. " His bandage-wrapped hand found its place on his chest, where it had been perfectly pierced by his own creation from the hands of his beloved. " As Vidyadhara, this is my promise, I will never break it. "

𝐡𝐞   𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭   𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥   𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲,   𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡   𝐬𝐨   𝐭𝐨   have   slid   from   the   warmth   of   his   their   bed   and   taken   refuge   before   the   the   open   window.   the   sun   shines   with   resplendence   upon   the   luofu,   warm   rays   drifting   past   the   gauze   of   azure   drapery   to   stir   the   vestiges   of   silvery   hair,   haphazardly   pulled   away   from   tired   features   with   the   twist   of   an   ornately   decorated   pin.   before   him,   the   desk   is   laden   with   sketches,   various   bits   of   paper   with   ying   xing's   untidy   scrawl,   drawings   of   weaponry   or   other   various   items   he's   nestled   in   the   back   of   a   frazzled   mind.   of   course,   the   swordsman   hasn't   been   to   his   forge   in   the   past   week   or   so   -   whatever   ails   him   keeping   the   frame   of   his   short-life   self   too   weak   to   stoke   the   flames,   but   that's   alright.   it   only   means   he   is   here   when   his   beloved   enters   the   door   at   night,   cheeks   aglow   with   either   worry   or...   some   sort   of   mischief   he'd   gotten   up   to   that   day.   

well,   was...   relative   however,   especially   as   this   stranger   with   his   face   continued   to   haunt   him.   

silence   befalls   them   both,   a   permeating   sort   of   discord   as   amber   meets   muted   red.   ying   xing   is   not   sure   if   his   mind   is   playing   tricks   on   him.   he's   not   sure   if   this   being   is   real,   some   symbolism   of   things   that   could've   been   or   are   to   come.   all   he   knows   is   that   it   is   not   something   he   cares   to   inform   his   beloved   of,   especially   when   their   exchanges   are   so   very   real.   

"   what   happened   to   you   will   not   befall   me.   "   he   reasons,   unequivocal,   the   lowering   of   lashes   upon   his   handsome   features   before   raising   again.   "   there   is   no   way.   "   firm.   disbelieving.   "   what   i   have   here,   is   simply   a   common   spring   ailment...   more   severe   than   usual,   due   to   over   working.   and   you-   "   he   points   with   his   ink   brush   at   the   vidyadhara   with   his   face,   paying   no   mind   to   the   black   liquid   that   dripped   upon   his   sleeping   robe,   "   are   simply   a   manifestation   of   my   fever.   "   that   he   refused   to   tell   dan   feng   about,   because   somewhere   in   his   heart   of   hearts   -   ying   xing   was   worried.   worried   because   he   knew   the   being   before   him,   was   an   omen.   

[code-name-wraith]

Yessirr I saw your request is open! May I request how is it like being roommates with our dearest omen in valorant HQ? It can be either platonic or romantic hehe

[ a/n: ahaha, ummm, uhh... i'm just gonna say i'm sorry for the wait anon, but i hope you enjoy this nonetheless! thanks for the request! i got so carried away writing this one i almost split it into two parts - say your prayers for all the text i cut out of here.. ]

• ok guys, it's about time for me to simp for omen again.... sigh....

• at first, things are rough. omen isn't exactly the most welcoming to people, especially strangers he's expected to share private space with. instead of closing the distance, he takes to what he does best and doesn't even look at you - he slips in and out in your shadow, and at first you'd think he doesn't even come back from missions. i like to think that you two didn't even have an introduction, you just opened the door to an empty space that looked more like solitary confinement than your new room. the silence was... unnerving.

• but on the bright side, you catch him eventually! he almost crushes your wrist when he feels the air move behind him, but your pained yelp has him letting go right away. he turns his body to look at you, like a machine, and you beam. he's blinking rapidly at the excited gesture, despite the less-than-favorable first impression. personally, i think it would be weirder if you weren't excited - i mean, this is your absolute cryptid of a roommate caught on camera.

• you take his hand, shake it with your smile that would've tasted like the sun, and introduce yourself. he was star-struck. someone that looked at him not as a monster, but another human. even in the softest, most gentle stares, he could see they knew he was different. their voices treated him like he was an animal and he'd come to accept they'd never change - before you, anyways. he finds himself being dragged along, like a cat by the scruff.

• eventually, he starts lurking around more, and you're delighted to actually see him in the room one day. "omen!" you cheer, running over to him, but cautious not to invade his space. "welcome home!" a light blue glow comes to his face, but you're not really sure what it means. you find yourself leaning on the edge of his bed next to him, and most would say talking to an omen is like talking to a wall, but you know he listens.

• you come home to headquarters one day, and you come to an empty room, a gray scarf nestled on your nightstand with a note between the cloth. a simple "thank you" is scrawled onto the paper, melting away into gibberish at the end like it was rushed, but you still melt at the sight. you cherish that scarf with your life, because that thing is the labor of your forlorn love and you accept it graciously. you wear it everyday, but don't tell where you got such high-quality clothing from. no words are exchanged, but you give omen cups of tea and new, hundred dollar yarn and the little chain of gifts continues.

• (that night, you thought the room was empty, but omen stares from the creak you left in the door, and watches how you hold his gift like liquid gold. he smiles to himself, but disappears when you look back. just like any shadow.)

[2broschlininahotub]

Meet the tri brigade

tri brigade comes from the three types in beast, beast warrior and winged beast. brigand and brigade. They all the males wear masks while the girls have googles. If you notice that their are small blue bands on them that represents their fallen comrades in battle. They are all made up of people who were abandoned. They treat each other like family. They are basically mercenaries. Basically they are a treasure trove of found family tropes but with animal people. They are usually wanderers they never stay in one place. They also have a distrust of churches or any type of church cause a religious group knows as the Dogmatika had a few of their members in prison. (something like a temple in Liyue would not trigger their fight or flight response cause they have some connections with a group who has a similar architecture to the swordsoul via a woman named Fleur a who was a student of changying and Ecclesia who is Fleur's Friend who treats her like a sister.)

Shuraig the Ominous Omen

He is the leader of the group. He has done many jobs. He is around 35 years old but he looks like he is in his late teens to early twenties. He usually wears the mask around people who he doesn't know or trust. The mask modulates his voice to sound much deeper and intimidating. To describe how he speaks with the mask on it sounds like darth vader but not exactly like darth vader. The Pic on the left show his actual face. He acts like a dad to some of the younger members. He is basically disabled among his race cause he has a wing that was cut off but he was able to get a prosthetic wing. He has done many jobs for the group. He has worked as a bodyguard but also an assassin and hitman. He also has a grenade launcher claymore. He was basically left his tribe on his volition cause nobody is going to help him get a job so he will do it himself.

Personality He is very serious. He doesn't trust people quickly but once you get his trust you have it for life.

Rugal the Silver Sheller

Rugal is the oldest of the group. Rugal is an actual anthropomorphized animal or animal that walks on two feat or legs. He is the grandpa of the group but he is still physically active and stronger and faster than human. He works as the tank of the group. He is very skilled fighter. He is strong enough to break an entire lamp post with a single kick. He also uses a gun that also functions as a tomahawk and axe at the same time. He left cause this wanted to fight even though he is old but he was not able to to join the military cause he was retired veteran. The mask he wears also changes his voice to sound more intense. Basically Rugal is a war vet who wanted to keep fighting but his military did not allow him in again.

Personality He is a very wise man but he has a laid back attitude and speach. He has a very much love of alcohol but he only drinks during Celebrations and he drinks a lot. He drank an entire beer keg and he was just tipsy.

Nervall

Nervall is the spy and scout of the group. He was born with a physical disability that makes it so that he has very weak bones to the point that he can break his wrist trying to punch someone. He left cause he wanted to prove himself and he came from the same tribe as Shuraig that explains why he shares similar wing color with him. He wears the mask around cause he feels very uncomfortable showing his face even to friends. The only people who have seen his face are the other members of the tri brigade. He also looks up to shuraig like a brother. In battle, he acts like a stealth bomber throwing grenades onto the ground and also grant the others ammo. The reason why the tri brigade wear masks cause in the world they live in known as the abyss their is this energy that acts like the abyssal corruption in genshin. The masks use a liquid to filter it out. It also acts as suppressants for the full corruption from the abyss but they do not acts as cures only the icejade have the ability to cure the abyssal corruption.

Personality He is described to be somewhat shy but gives his all to help his family. He is very shy trying to talk to most people in general but especially girls. He is trying his best to improve it.

Ferrijit the barren blossom.

Pronunciation Fer ri ghit.

She is the mechanic and sniper of the group. She uses a bayonet rifle. She and her sister was orphaned cause her parents were dead cause they died out of a disease. She acts like the mother of the group. She and her sister are mechanics. Ferrijit uses googles that allow her to see three yards away. She is very accurate she shot a bullet that hit an pebble that was falling over three yards.

Personality She has a very motherly personality. She has a very adventurous personality. She is very protective cause she has abandonment issues. She is over protective of her sister.

Kitt

Kitt is the youngest out of the tri brigade. She is the emotional support of the group. She is the heart of the group. She makes and repairs the weapons. She also made the blue liquid in their weapons. She also has a bodyguard that protects her during her travels.

Personality She is very cheerful and excitable. Kitt can easily befriend people. She is very smart that she was able to make the solution to suppress the corruption of the Abyss from their home equivalent. We will know call the evil liquid dark fluid. She is not that good at multitasking.

Springans Captain Sargas

He is actually an ash spirit that hides in mechanical shells that help them do things. They are related to the Sprite and Therions but they are more passive and nice. Springans actually inhabit bodies that Ferrijit and Kitt made. The Springans use those bodies to make fireworks cause they are not as inherently aggressive as the Therions. Basically the Springans are Yoimiya's best friends.

Sargas is an exception cause he was actually possessing the body of a prototype of Therions Bulls Ain. The body was then modified by Kitt.

Personality He is described to be a bit of dork. He is not that good at making orders but is a great follower.

@nomorefstogive here is the info about the for wing alliance. They all have representatives. The lyrilusc have Sia, the tri brigade have Shuraig, the blackwings have full armor master and the gusto have Simorgh. The lyrilusc help the other three by granting support. They have access to magic that is very flexible unlike the gusto. The gusto grant the other by always garunteed advantage in the air and also have really powerful magic. The difference between the two is the lyrilusc are a jack of all trade but a master of none while The gusto are specialists but are rivaled by none. The tribrigade help by working as repairs for weapons on the mechanical side. The blackwings grant very powerful protection that can help if any are in danger. The difference between the blackwings and tri brigade are the similar as the difference between the gusto and lyrilusc. The blackwings have more power while the tri brigade have more precision or accuracy.

Here is a story with the lyrilusc and tri brigade. You know Recital Starling or Star loves to sing. She went to an abandoned town in khaenri'ah. Well she starts to sing. It was a moonlit night, she starts to sing the Lady Gaga song Marry the night. As she was singing the tri brigade went to investigate and were in aw of Star sing as the starlit patterns started to glow. It was specifically Ferrijit and Nervall. There were other people and creatures such as Hillichurls, the mages, the Mitachurls. She was able to turn the abbysal corruption but purify it. Where she was able to turn the curse into something new and better. As she was singing the land around transform into something that looks more normal but have a bit of magical as star like patterns that glow or are neon colored. After the song ended most of the onlooker were still stunned in awe. Star scolded herself for forgetting to turn of her power. Ferrijit and nervall approach her and Star started to prepare to run. Ferrijit asked her to calm down we are not here to fight she was asking where are we. Nervall explained that they were sucked in by a portal. Star said that they need to meet with her sisters cause they were also sucked inside of a portal.

@nomorefstogive to give here are the preferred singers for the lyrilusc.

Ensemblue Robin-Shakira and Christina

Promenade Thrush-Beyonce and Madonna

Recital Starling- Lady gaga and Britney Spears.

Sia- Katy Perry and Sia

Iris-Avril Lavigne and Taylor swift.

Note this is preferred not the only thing they can sing they can do other artists as well.

[prosaic-bun]

Sal Vindagnyr odds and ends

Pairing: Kaeya x Mc x Albedo

Novelette

Genre: Fluff - Angst (just a little) - Post 1 year timeskip

Author Notes: This new chapter is a chunky one. I really enjoyed writting it. I know a like or a follow doesn't seem a lot on your end, but it truly motivates me and means so much. Thanks for your support I appreciate each and everyone of you.

Trigger Warning: None

Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 (you are here) - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10

--------------------

Chapter 6

4.6k words

In the dead of the night - about a week after the bonfire ceremony, Mc was seated in his bed covered in sweat, halting at the intensity of the dream that was now slipping away. It’s not that the dream was scary per se, but it was unsettling and infringing on the territory of an ominous vision. Mc didn’t see any images or even heard words, he was fed thoughts in his sleep, concepts forcing themselves in his mind.

Mc sponged the beads of sweat that formed on his forehead and wrapped his blanket around his body as a way to cover his bare chest. The nymph stood up and left his room to scavenge food in the communal kitchen of the Headquarters of the Knights of Favonius. On his way there, the coolness of the stone floor helped him anchor him into reality. What was it exactly? Something about two princes? Were they good or a bad omen? He would have to think more about it in the morning.

The nymph reached the communal kitchen and went straight to the cupboard containing fresh fruits. He took two sunsettias and then poured himself a glass of water from a glass pitcher that was left on the counter. He then sat himself at the nearby wooden table and started eating the first sunsettia, stil pondering what his dream meant. By the time he had begun eating the second sunsettia, he realised the mess he was making - sunsettia juice covering the table. He reached for a cloth to wipe away the sugary liquid. A concealed fork made its way on the floor, letting out a clear sharp sound in the silent kitchen.

Mc cursed himself internally, getting down on all four under the table in hope of reaching the rogue piece of coutellerie.

«I didn’t expect to find such a lovely thief in the kitchen at this hour.»

At the sound of someone else's voice, the alarmed nymph had the reflex to lift his head up, properly knocking it against the underside of the table. After the impact, the other person shuffled forward helping the nymph to get up without hurting himself some more.

«I’m sorry that wasn’t my intention.» Kaeya grinned when he was finally face to face with Mc.

«Oh! So you didn’t want to take advantage of a tranquil man enjoying a midnight snack while you came back from Angel’s share? Or weren’t you trying to use your suave voice to startle a poor innocent and charming them when bandaging their head?» Mc accused.

«Let me look at that head.» Kaeya said, tilting Mc’s head so he can have a better overview of it. «No blood so no bandaging. But would you still say I'm charming?» He nagged.

«Hum i might prefer your usual effortless charm than your player personna. Now let me eat the rest of my sunsettia in peace.» Mc retorted with a smile, sitting himself back on his chair.

«That’s a given.» Kaeya granted, sitting himself in front of the nymph. He stayed silent looking at the nymph finishing his snack. «Shouldn’t you be getting a good night's sleep before our grand expedition tomorrow afternoon?» Kaeya asked.

«Is this a ‘Do as I say, not as I do’ type of situation?»

«You are especially feisty tonight, let me rephrase. ‘Mc how come aren’t you in bed? Did something happen? I’m worried for your wellbeing and energy level in regard of tomorrow.’» Kaeya tried again.

«Cavalry captain Alberich, you have my solemn confirmation that I will be in good form for our expedition tomorrow.» Mc promised while standing up and putting away the empty glass and the inedible scraps of sunsettias.

Mc wet his hands to clean them of the sunset coloured fruit juice and turned around to see an earnestly concerned Kaeya staring right back at him. The knight closed off the distance looking intently into the other man’s eyes. Whenever Kaeya dropped his act, just enough for Mc to see through the usual facade, the nymph always felt disarmed. Those little moments were special in a way they managed to make him feel drawn to the knight and to make his face feel hotter than usual.

«Do you have trouble sleeping? Are you anxious about tomorrow? I can bring a mattress in your room.» Kaeya bombarded.

At this point Mc was getting more than infatuated, he took a second to recover. «I just had an intense dream, maybe I'm more stressed than I thought.»

Kaeya searched Mc’s face, trying to know if his interlocutor was hiding something else. Mc adjusted his makeshift bed sheet cape and covered the knight shoulders with his hands while maintaining eye contact.

«There is nothing wrong Kaeya, but you also need to trust that I’ll come to you if I need your support.» With that Mc leaned forward to inscribe a furtive kiss on Kaeya’s jowl. Mc straightened back to his initial position like nothing happened and looked back at Kaeya. With a faint smile he added «Good night.» and left the communal kitchen.

****

After watering the plants he propagated and potted on the rooftop of the Headquarters, Mc made his way down to the first floor of said building. Many knights were busing themselves, getting ready for another day of protecting Mondsatdt. Mc on his part, went straight for a well acquainted wooden door.

«Good morning sunshine.»

This greeting alone was enough to alleviate Mc’s perplexity. The librarian looked at the nymph from over her abounding books. «You are earlier than usual» Lisa stated.

«I am.» Mc agreed. « I have an important question for you. I had a weird dream.» Mc explained stiffly.

«Take a seat. Would you prefer rosebud or sunsettia tea?»

«Hum rosebud please.»

Lisa busied herself, pouring hot water from an iron kettle and grabbing two finely embellished cups. Watching Lisa making tea allowed Mc to gather his thoughts. The librarian came back and gave a cup of warm tea to the nymph.

«Thank you Lisa.»

«You are welcome, cutie. Now tell me what is up with that dream of yours.» Lisa asked.

Mc recounted the half dream half vision he had the night prior. The urge he felt to understand or interpret something like his life depended on it. He was now sure, it was referring to two princes. Lisa listened intently before asking a question.

«I see. Do you have a hypothesis on the identity of the two princes your dream was about?»

«Well since you ask, I guess I know them.» Mc went quiet for a minute. «Are Captain Albedo and Captain Alberich the two princes?» The nymph asked, which earned a smile from Lisa.

The librarian then explained how both knights were related to Khaenri'ah. Without going into too much detail, Lisa was able to broadly present the two knights' recent past.

«So i don’t think prince is meant to be a formal concept. For Kaeya it’s maybe something about being of a certain rank and Albedo is also known as the Kreideprinz. You have no idea what your dream was trying to entail?» Lisa asked.

«No. Not really. Could it coincide with us going to the Frostbearing tree today?» Mc conjectured.

«We can’t be certain. You can either reschedule your expedition or get ready for the unexpected.» Lisa answered. «Oh I might have something for you.»

Mc perked up looking at Lisa foraging from bookshelf to bookshelf, looking for something evading her. Soon Lisa found what she was looking for and returned to the desk where Mc was still seated.

«Those are...»

«Communication mirrors? You still have those?» Mc exclaimed.

Lisa was surprised the nymph recognized the mirrors. Maybe she didn’t evaluate the age of the devices correctly.

«They are. I presume you already are familiar with their modus operandi?» Lisa observed, extending her arm to give three small mirrors.

«Are you sure I can have these?» Mc asked like he couldn’t believe it.

«Of course cutie. Now go on or you’ll be late for your expedition. I’m sure everything will be ok.» Lisa reassured.

After talking with Lisa, Mc went to pack his bag and ate a bit before heading to the meeting point the trio had decided prior to that day. The entry gate of Mondstadt came into view with the familiar form of two knights. Mc walked down the final steps and greeted the two men. After exchanging courtesies Kaeya was about to lead the walk out of the gate.

«Wait! Are you sure you two want to do this?» Mc exclaimed. «I don’t want you to be hurt or have any problems because of me.»

«As ever this shows your gentle nature, nonetheless you still need to put a little bit of trust in us. Trust that we’ll come to you if we need your support.» Kaeya stated.

Since the cavalry captain was using his own words against him, Mc abdicated with a smile.

«At this point I'm emotionally invested in your cause. So we’ll do this together, we know the proponents of the expeditions.» Albedo added.

«Wait expeditionS as plural?» Mc asked dumbfounded.

«Well yeah, we’ll need to go into ruins and domains if we really want to attest to Sal Vindagnyr remnants.» Albedo ruled, leaving Mc stunned after hearing the extent of the knights' support.

«Thanks a lot. This means a lot to me and I can't believe how lucky I am that the people that found me are so considerate.» Mc acknowledged.

«Don’t be so formal and come here.» Kaeya suggested opening his arms as an invitation.

The Cavalry Captain was accustomed to brief demonstrations of affection from the nymph. The brief touch from last night lingering on him, making him wish it was longer. Based on that fact, Kaeya wasn’t expecting the nymph to close on him and Albedo and hug them so tightly. Mc’s embrace felt so warm, and the way he gripped tightly their shoulders exemplified how he felt about the knights. Burying his head on the space between Kaeya’s shoulder and Albedo’s head, Mc whispered a final ‘thank you for being here’. Mc eventually stepped back, breaking the spell.

«Oh I almost forgot.» Mc uttered suddenly reaching for a small pocket on his backpack. The two knights benefited from the fact the nymph attention’s was set on his backpack to regain their composure.

«Here. Those are communication mirrors. They will be super useful for our expedition.» Mc commented.

The nymph then proceeded to explain to the knights they needed to make the usual equipping ceremony as for any artifacts. The trio each held a small mirror and set their intention, asking the object to lend their powers.

«For now on, if you focus on one of us, you will be able to reach them, the other mirror will vibrate indicating an interlocutor is trying to talk to you.» Mc continued.

«Will we be able to talk to each other?» Albedo asked.

«Not talk in itself, these mirrors are a visual artifact. So you can either sign with your free hand, read on the lips or use your breath to create glass fog on the mirror and write out words.» Mc finished.

«So I can contact you two no matter the distance?» Kaeya mused.

«That is correct, you just have to focus on a mental image you construct of us.» Mc answered.

The two knights were quite impressed by the communication mirrors, those were great tools if they got in trouble along the way. They packed away the mirrors in their bags and left for the mountain.

****

The trek to reach the Frostbearing tree wasn’t too arduous. After all, it was at the base of the mountain, not too far away from the Dragonspine Adventurer Camp. Luckily for the group, the weather was clement and the sun was warm enough to let some of its rays bounce off the face of the mondstadians.

The trio stopped at the ruin brazier just at the top of the sunken area where the Frostbearing tree was standing. Mc took in the scenery, mentally noting the differences between the area he was used to and what was the current state of it. The princess did choose a wise emplacement to try to conserve the ancient silver-white tree.

«I have to say the tree is so small it’s hard to accept it’s the only thing left from the ancient silver-white tree.» Mc revealed.

«Would you say it was twice or maybe thrice its height back in your time?» Albedo asked.

Mc laughed surprised by the question. «The tree trunk was even bigger than the wooden shell around this twig transplant. The tallest branches of the ancient silver-white tree almost reached the top of Sal Vindagnyr - referencing the height of the mountain in its prime mind you, meaning before your anemo archon messed with the top of it.»

«I knew the petrified trees we have come across in domains aren't that ancient. It is said truly ancient trees usually grow to around one or two miles in height. Oh, and there's a kind of large spider that lives around their roots. I’ve visited such a place with my master once.» Albedo remembered.

«Let’s get closer.» Kaeya encouraged.

As the nymph was getting closer to the Frostbearing tree, he started to hear or feel a ringing in his head. The tree was acknowledging his presence, he recognized something in the former Sal Vindagnyr denizen.

«We shall rise again - the tree of old has sprouted anew.» Mc claimed while being pulled towards the base of the tree.

«Uh, what was that Mc?» Kaeya asked.

Mc didn’t answer while walking towards the tree. He then proceeded to put his palm on the tree bark. The red butterflies shapes at the tip of the branches reacted at the touch by glowing a little redder.

«Mc are you sure it’s a good idea you interact with it. Hum i don’t know something feels amiss.» Albedo pointed out.

Palm glued against the tree trunk, the bark of the tree seemed to invite the nymph further in. Mc activated his powers and fused with the tree, passing through it, but not appearing on the other side.

«Mc!» The two knights yelled in unison.

Merging with the tree allowed the nymph to dig into the memories the immovable witness had observed since he was (re-)planted. Many events flowed into Mc’s mind; the nymph, albeit not a formally inducted Iatromantis, had the valuable reflex to bypass the cerebral path the memories were taking and to redirect them into a provisional pouch in his subconscious. Such knowledge input was sufficient to drive most people crazy. When the flow of memories dwindled, Mc cleared his mind and let the most important memories bubble up to the surface of his subconscious.

Serving as checkpoints, the key shared memories allowed the nymph to get an interesting timeline. The tree and himself shared a similar hibernating period. For the first centuries the tree didn’t notice a lot of things. The tree felt the echoes of mechanical visitors probing the ruins of Sal Vindagnyr. At some point the tree yearned for the out of reach green landscape that appeared in front of him. Later some aristocratic Mondstadians seemed to have perished on the mountain. Subsequently, the tree was the stoic witness of a duel against dragons. The corrosive blood of the largest of the two was sealed by the cold, but allowed the tree to regain some of its strength contributing to the reorganisation of the ley lines network in its favour. While taking in those memories, the tree conveyed only two emotions. Bitterness against Celestia and delight to be reunited with the nymph.

After sharing the tree memories, Mc expanded his senses to follow the many routes of the ley line system. Like when he first awakened from his glacial slumber he was surprised to see the current state of the Ley line, especially considering the Skyfrost nail drastically damaged them.

By doing this elemental exercise, Mc was able to heighten his own powers and mapped mentally the mountain - it could be useful in the future. Mc did a last sweep of the root system and like on a sonar, an area pinged in his head, hailing from the other side of the mountain for his attention. Mc smiled knowing what was calling onto him, but first he would need to get his companions.

Mc emerged back from the tree, almost knocking out Kaeya in the process. The two knights seemed to be quite agitated in their respective way.

«Where were you? We looked around the tree for 10 minutes and had no sign of you. Don’t go disappearing on us, I thought something bad had happened.» Kaeya scolded.

«I sensed something. Such a high level of elemental energy. Only with my old master was I the spectator of such a tangible power surge. Were you communicating with the tree?» Albedo questioned.

«I’m ok, sorry if i scared you; everything happened so fast.» Mc apologised. «Yes I kinda communicated with the tree, but there is also something I’m really really excited to show you.»

The two knights were surprised by their companion’s sudden change of demeanor and the little spark glimmering in his eyes. They looked at each other and then nodded, curious about what would follow.

«Ok so to get there we’ll take a shortcut by the roots, then I'll just have to break the entry seal.»

«’Take a shortcut by the roots’? What does that even mean?» Kaeya wondered.

«It might feel a little weird, but if you trust me everything is gonna go well. Albedo, I'm pretty sure you will be excited about trying this.» Mc replied.

Uncertain, the knights looked at the nymph turning his back on them and starting the process of merging with the tree. Halfway, Mc turned around facing the knights once more and asked them to hold onto his shoulder. Mc then secured his hold with his arms snaking around their waist, pulling them closer to him. Mc then let his weight be pulled by the ley line attraction, making him topple into the root system. To Kaeya and Albedo this felt like some kind of backflip into a different reality.

Instinctively, the cavalry captain pressed himself onto the nymph. The world was spiralling around him, all he could hear was a cacophony of indistinguishable voices. At this point he didn’t care to look even remotely clingy and buried his face into the nymph’s form - appreciating the comfort and steadiness it gave him. This way of ‘transportation’ had something exhilarating yet oddly intimate - blurring the lines between the edges of each other's bodies.

On the other side, Albedo also tightened his hold on the torso of the nymph, but was utterly amazed. Looking everywhere he could, straining his senses to engrave this experience in his memory. He outstretched his free arm toward the outside of the vortex of elemental energy creating sparks around his fingers.

Mc navigated the intricate root system with ease and finally found his exit point. The said exit point happened to be a mature pine on the eastern side of the mountain (near the Dragonspine waypoint that is at the same latitude as Sal Terrae). Kaeya opened his eye and when he was certain they made it out in one piece, he started to look around to guess his location. Mc asked if they were ok and as soon as they nodded, the man was already walking towards an eerie tunnel. Kaeya recognized it to be the cavity under the arena binding the cryo hypostasis at the outskirts of the ancient city.

Two torches guarded the entrance of the cave. Mc walked past them only looking behind to make sure he was followed by the two mondstadians. The tunnel then inclined downwards, showcasing diaphanous blue flowers, starsilver and ice stalagmites.

Further in the group found some crates and barrels still walking forward, the irregular rocky tunnel gave way to the ruins of a neatly stacked stone wall. In the dim light they then noticed ruin guards, scarlet quartz and more ice stalagmites scattered in the larger underground room.

«Well somebody changed the general decor. Are those the Khaenri'ah ruin guards scattered around Teyvat?» Mc asked while walking towards the middle of the room.

«Yes, but those ones seem to have stopped functioning because of the hostile climate.» Kaeya estimated while falling into step behind Mc.

The skylight ice window shone its spotlight directly on a stone slab that was partially covered with ice and snow. Joining him Albedo shot a look at the ceiling knowing that the cryo hypostasis was just on the other side of the ice. It couldn’t be a coincidence right? Perhaps the hypostasis has a reason to be placed there.

Mc cleared the most snow he could from the stone slab. He then proceeded to strike his foot down on the surface five times each time gathering some elemental energy under the sole of his foot. At the repeated impact the sculpted details of the slab gradually lit up and after a few seconds the whole thing just disappeared, revealing a set of stairs going further down.

Proud of the result and the durability of Sal Vindagnyr infrastructure Mc let out a small «Come on.» before making his way down the path. The two knights followed suit.

«Welcome. You have the chance, the honour, the incredible luck to be in this very room. I show you, my home away from home, my study, my lab, my classroom; the place where I studied and spent most of my time.» Mc announced with a flourish of the arm and a court bow.

The nymph giggled and walked around pointing at different objects, making an informal tour of the place for the mondstadians. Mc insisted for Albedo and Kaeya to sit in an armchair before disappearing behind a door. First there was a muffled ruckus, then metallic sounds and then nothing, as if Mc found what he was looking for.

No words were needed for Albedo and Kaeya to understand what each other was thinking. They exchanged a glance as they waited patiently for the Sal Vindagnyr denizen to come out of the adjacent room. They smiled at each other, glad to see Mc so excited.

«So the clothes didn’t pass the test of time, but the next items I'm about to show you were infused with elemental energy and are like I remembered.» Mc explained from behind the door.

Mc opened the door and submitted himself to the gaze of his companions earning an exclamatory whistle from Kaeya. The nymph centered himself in the room in front of the two seated knights before opening his arms and turning in place to give them a 360 degree view.

Kaeya glupped looking up and down at the nymph’s form. Black harnesses from an unknown material hugged Mc’s silhouette. Each black strip running on the nymph chest carried many daggers, throwing knives and blades forged from starsilver ore in a Sal Vindagnyr fashion (colour palette and details of the Frostbearer catalyst for reference). In his left hand Mc had a sacrificial knife akin to the ones the pyro fatui agents use. His sturdy looking belt was adorned by a small sickle, placed there for practical reasons. What if the nymph found some plants he needed to collect for an ointment on an expedition? Finally on the right side Mc had a thigh holster flashing some unusually long throwing needles

Oh and that thigh holster had gathered all the attention of the Cavalry Captain. How could a mundane leg strap have this kind of effect on him? It hugged the nymph’s leg in such a complimentary way; revealing thigh squish where the holster dug into the quadriceps and glutes, right through the fabric of the pants.

If the blue-haired male was shamelessly devouring the nymph with his eyes, the alchemist had only his mouth slightly agape - the sole way to gauge his restrained daze. Mc brought his attention to the many weapons hanging off of him, unsheathing a medium sized throwing knife. The nymph then proceeded to aim and swiftly throwed the knife into the wooden part of a bookshelf. The nymph brandished his fist in the air, pleased with the result.

«Mc, when were you gonna tell us you were an assassin in your past life?» Kaeya exclaimed, getting to his feet to take a closer look, quickly imitated by the alchemist.

Mc laughed it up. «This is just some old razzle dazzle, nothing more. Plus, I'm not the greatest fighter. When out on some rare missions I relied quite heavily on my close combat compatriots.»

«You always have a place on my team as a support.» Kaeya answered with a grin. «Might get distracting though.» He added for himself.

«Well Mc you definitely look the part.» Albedo commented. «Are these all starsilver forged weapons?»

«They are, here you can appraise it.» Mc answered while presenting his sacrificial knife to the pale-haired monsdtadian.

Kaeya interjected once more. «You know you won’t have any excuse left for declining our future sparring session?»

«If you go easy on me, I’ll gladly train with you now that I'm reunited with my lovely blades.» Mc answered.

After chatting some more, Mc announced he was starving and that they should return to Mondstadt while the sun was still out. Back in the overhead cave, Mc made sure to seal the room by making the stone slab reappear. He fiddled with one strap promising himself he would come back to gather more things later on.

Making their way back, the knights asked many questions they had in store after this unforeseen turn of events. The expedition was a success since Mc retrieved his prized weapon set, learned more about the Frostbearing tree and showed a glimpse of his abilities to his companions.

«So the latromantis pavilion is under that cave because of its relation to the ley lines position?» Albedo resumed.

«Yes, it goes down in the mountain even more, but I never had the chance to access the lower levels previously. As above, so below as they say.» Mc stated enigmaticly.

«And your power comes from the ley lines themselves?» Kaeya asked.

«Yes and no. My ability to travel through the ley line system stems from elemental energy. It’s the same for every power foci in Teyvat. I wasn’t familiar with visions, but they seem to act as a facilitator for their wielder to access elemental energy.» Mc revealed.

«Wait, but how come your power doesn’t have any elements attached to it.» Kaeya continued, wheels in his head turning.

«It’s about your brain being open to new cosmologies - new perspectives concerning the laws of the natural world. Based on my time in Mondstadt, I was first impressed by how vision wielders were able to perform elemental transformations so effortlessly. Then I understood it was kind of limiting. I read in one of Lisa’s books an interesting quote about it; ‘Light can refract into countless colors, but people stop at seven because they're lazy to count. Perhaps the elements are like that, too.’»

The animated conversation only paused when the trio had a Good Hunter sticky honey roast in front of them and it picked up again when the plate was empty and bellies were full.

Cc. @creatorofstars

[aria-i-adagio]

Fandom: Dragon Age

Ship: Dorian x m!Trevelyan

Rating: T

read on A03 or below

(title from REM, 'Imitation of Life')

Meanwhile, in Haven.

Rhys has a list of sights he does not want to see as he’s dying. At the top (and a recent addition) are hurlocks - those are some ugly motherfuckers, and he suspects that they enjoy making death hurt. Most varieties of demons; although, perhaps a desire demon might not be too bad. Granted, he doesn’t know if the illusions they cast last up to the point of death, or if those are only good while being possessed. That might change the calculus a bit. One of the red lyrium crystal monsters the Templars were turning themselves into. A bear. He definitely does not want to see a bear while he’s dying.

As final sights go, the implosion of the Breach as the thing in his hand stitches the Veil back together isn’t a bad one. The outer edges turn magenta, then blue-violet. The cooler colors rush to the center, swirl together, drawing inward until there’s just a speck of black, more liquid than the darkest night. Then bright, morning sunlight pulses like a heartbeat from that center.

Rhys lets go of the breath he was holding. He thinks it worked, thinks the Breach is closed. It feels powerful enough - a wave of magic like fire and lightning pouring through him, in and out, like breathing in harsh, herbal smoke that messes with his head and makes the world swim, and at least, in his case, despite many promises to the contrary never makes him as sleepy as it just makes him keyed up and in want a good fuck.

The shockwave following the pulse of white light picks him up off his feet and sends him hurtling through the air and slamming him like a ragdoll into rocks and ice around Haven.

Still, the light is damned pretty. Until it fades.

He hears Dorian's voice through the ringing in his ears. “Rhys! Thank the Maker.”

Rhys hopes that he isn’t dead because if he is that implies that Dorian is dead too, and that would rather sad. The world needs Dorian smiling and making catty jokes. There’s been too much melancholy and death over the past few months. Rhys is getting tired of all the omens of doom and gloom.

There’s another little gap in time before his head recovers enough to remember how to open his eyes. When he does, Cassandra’s upside-down face greets him. Dorian's would have been a prettier sight, but there's something comfortingly familiar about seeing Cassie first thing after realizing that - despite there being every reason for him to be - he is not, in fact, dead.

Rhys's vision still spins, and his left arm feels like it’s burning from the inside out. Yes, he’s been here before. Best just to let go, disconnect from it, float a little bit. “Are you going to yell at me again?”

“What?” Cassie’s dark brows pull low over her eyes. “No!”

“Too bad. You’re kinda attractive when you look like you’re about to commit murder.”

“Herald!”

Cassie sounds scandalized. Rhys manages a grin. Not that scandalizing Cassie actually takes that much effort. Makes her easy to tease. Something to distract him from how much he’s hurting at the moment because pretending that the waves of pain radiating from his arm are the ocean doesn’t actually work very well. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t been in the ocean since he was a small child. The memory of floating in warm waves until they send you tumbling into rough sand isn’t fresh enough.

“Keep talking like that, Lucky, and you might yet manage to die tonight.”

“Hey, Varric.” Rhys tries to lift his head and the bastard offspring of fire and electricity shoots from his shoulder to neck and then down his spine. The muscles in his back spasm and his head hits the ground beneath him, blacking out his vision for another moment and sending the ringing in his ears a pitch higher. “Did it work?” he asks groggily.

“You did good, kid.”

“So it -”

“The Breach is sealed, Rhys.” Solas’s calm voice is reassuring to hear. “Try not to move, this will hurt more before it hurts less.”

“That story -” He means to say ‘again,’ but Cassandra grabs his shoulders very firmly and maybe he shouldn't waste breath on quips.

“Dorian, be ready.” Solas does something, and that something rips the fire out of his left arm, which is - as promised - worse than just letting it settle in like some magical, fatal addition to the marrow.

“Motherfucking, son of a bitch, what in the name of Andraste's flaming arse -”

“Language.” Cassie lets go of his shoulders and reprimands him with a light cuff on the side of his head. “Oh let the kid blaspheme a bit, Seeker. He's earned it.”

Rhys sits up and rubs his hand. Above him, the sky is still marked by a line of bright green, but it’s a seam in the darkness, not a whirling, pulsating storm. His arm doesn't hurt now, but there's the same fuzzy numb wrongness in his wrist and palm that he's gotten used to over the past few months. That's on a good day.

Solas arches his eyebrows and looks amused. “You know I do very little in the name of Andraste's arse, flaming or not.”

“Whatever your reason -” Rhys experimentally stretches out his left arm and reaches across his chest to rub his shoulder. It’s still aching, but just the banal ache of falling a bit too hard. “Thank you."

Nearby Dorian finishes casting with an elegant - and probably unnecessary - flourish of his elegant hands. One of the trees beside the Chantry behind to glow with the green of a Veil Rift, then warming to a color closer to chartreuse.

“What is that?”

“You absorbed a lot of energy while closing the Breach. I siphoned off what I could at the time. But still, far more than a human body is supposed can contain and remain alive.”

“Right.” Movement of energy had been his theory for some time. Massive amounts of magic were required to open or close a rift in the Veil, and something had to serve as a conduit. Whatever happened at the Conclave had left him as that conduit, but each time he felt the power come closer to burning through the bonds that held him together, made him human. Which was precisely why there was a stack of farewell letters sitting on the desk in Rhys's quarters. He hadn’t expected to live through whatever it took to close the Breach.

“Dorian and I pulled off some of what remained and redirected it. It's a rather beautiful effect, albeit transient.”

The tree turns to a brilliant brilliant gold and then quivers and collapses into a pile of shimmering dust. Rhys swallows hard. Not expecting to live isn’t quite the same as getting a glimpse of how you would have died. Or maybe a human body was messier than a tree. Typically were less graceful than plants. “I see.”

“Right then. Let's get you freshened up and then get some liquor in you.” Dorian grabs his forearms and hauls him to his feet. Face to face with the other mage, Rhys feels transparent. Like a plane of glass that can't hide fears and flaws. It's terrifying. Electrifying. “Everyone else has already started the party.”

Even nearly nose to nose with Dorian, Rhys still can't tame the small voice in the back of his head that says he's reading Dorian all wrong, that the man is just friendly, that there's certainly no way someone so beautiful and refined would be interested in a mudlark.

He hopes that voice is just being stupid.

Dorian slips him a flask of brandy as they walk away. Rhys flips the cap off and sips gratefully from it. His legs feel loose, off-balance, like he’s drunk already, and he suspects he would be staggering but for Dorian’s arm around his waist. The linen undergarments beneath his leather coat and woolen sweater are soaked with sweat and chilly even beneath the layers; he’s content enough to let Dorian drag him to the small cabin he’d been given. Really, actually, it is too much for a single person, much bigger than the room he had at Ostwick. And frankly, far too cold with only a single person’s body heat in the space at night.

He stumbles past the partition to the room in the back, trying to decide if he’d rather fall face-first onto the bed, or dig out a new base layer and go enjoy the party he can hear the rest of the Inquisition beginning outside. Leliana and Josephine will probably show up if he chooses the latter and drag him back out with a lecture on keeping up appearances and rallying the people. They might even be right.

Maker, he hopes his part in all this is over. Let Cassandra and Leliana continue trying to remake all of Thedas. He just wants to go home. If he has a home to go to.

“Oh look at this!” Dorian exclaims from the front. “Antivan red. And a halfway decent vintage. You’ve been holding out on me, Rhys.”

“Talk to Josie.” Rhys undoes the buttons down the front of his coat. Too many buttons, especially with hands that are stiff from the cold and shaking from an overdose of magic. He tosses it over the foot of the bed and takes off his sweater. He’s rather fond of the sweater actually, it’s nice and warm and the good kind of scratchy. The kind that kept you in the present place and time. “She’s not lying about her family connections.”

“Not sure she likes me. Yet. She’ll come around.”

“I’m sure she will.” Rhys smiles a little and cautiously - sometimes he has to recalibrate just how much magic to use after closing a Rift - casts a spell to melt the ice on the pitcher of water. Closing the Breach hadn’t done anything to improve Haven’s climate. Maker, why do people choose to live here? He splashes still chilly water over his face and leans his hands against the table, trying not to yawn so hard that his jaw cracks off.

His linen shirt is soaked to his skin; he has to virtually peel it off. It gets tossed to the floor, something that can be dealt with later and by someone else. He soaks a bit of toweling at rubs it over his chest and shoulders, glancing behind him, at least somewhat hoping that Dorian is surreptitiously peering around the partition.

He isn't. He’s turned away from the opening in the partition - polite, Rhys supposes - holding the stack of letters in his hands and shuffling through them. “Rhys. What are these?”

“Just... I need to burn those. They were just in case, well, you know, this wasn't exactly the guaranteed outcome.” He didn’t even know if half the people he had addressed them to were still alive, much less where to find them, but he assumed that Leliana would be able to figure that out if she needed to.

“How late were you up writing them?”

All night. “A while.”

“You were sitting here last night, by yourself, writing these because you thought you might die - Rhys, why didn't you say anything? You didn't have to sit in here drinking and contemplating death alone.”

“I thought the chance closing the Breach would kill was generally understood.” Just the kind of thing that no one talks about in polite society. Rhys combs his fingers through his hair and tries to put it into something akin to order and not just hanging unattractively lank around his face. Kind. Dorian might have a vicious tongue in his head, but he’s also kind when he wants to be. “Open the bottle if you want. If I was saving it for a special occasion, I think this qualifies.”

Rhys sits on the edge of the bed and undoes the buckles down the sides of his boots, tugging them off and rolling down the first of three pairs of socks. The other two are tucked under his trousers. Clean socks will be nice. He gets his trousers off - tight leather is really annoying. Decent armor. A good look on him too - even he can recognize that. But annoying to get on and off.

He finishes washing up quickly and dresses again, listening as Dorian pops the cork out of the bottle and the sound of wine being poured. Hopefully, it’s a decent vintage. He’d hate to disappoint.

Dorian is sitting in one of the chairs with his feet propped up on the desk. Rhys does it all the time himself; it’s a bizarrely satisfying act of delayed rebellion against the librarians who scolded him for doing the same thing in the Circle. The letters have been set aside in a much tidier stack than the one in which he had left them. He pulls the second chair out from the desk, sits down, and picks up the wine glass that Dorian isn’t twirling in his elegant hands.

Dorian stops him as he raises the glass to his lips. “Don’t drink it yet, silly. A red needs to breathe.”

“Right. Yes. Anyway, thanks. For saving my life back there. What is that, like the fiftieth time.”

Dorian raises his eyebrows, smiling over the cup in his hand. “Bad form to let someone die. Especially someone you rather -”

Bells begin clanging outside, interrupting whatever Dorian was about to say. He swings his feet from the desk to the floor and sets the cup violently down on the table. “Oh, Andraste’s quaking quim, what now?”

Rhys grins. “You’re getting as bad as a Ferelden.” Even if the bells are unlikely to signify anything good, he can enjoy a little humor.

“Worse, I think.” Dorian throws back the cup of wine as he gets up from the table, and Rhys follows suit. Yes. It is a more than decent vintage even without enough time to breathe, and he grabs the bottle as Dorian pushes the door open because whatever is about to happen will probably merit alcohol. Cullen is standing outside, still in full armor and fur and with the grim expression that Haven seems to have frozen on his features.

“We’re under attack. Grab your staves. Meet me at the gate.”

“Void take it.” Dorian takes the bottle from him and drinks. “Come on, Rhys. Looks like fate hasn’t given up fucking with us yet.”

Well, fuck.

[djarinsbeskar]

If you have something ready, can you give us a sneak peek for the next chapter? Maybe Din meeting Kyr ‘cause I’m sure that’s gonna kill me. If you don’t have it yet it’s totally okay, sorry for asking!

No Kyr in this part I'm afraid! From my notes Din doesn't meet Kyr until... Part 3 or 4!

But here~ have a snippet of the landlady of The Tipsy Hart (thanks everyone who made the choice for me!) offering Medic and Din a traditional Pamarthen welcome: Port in a Storm.

Nana returned with two small shot glasses, swirling, reddish-amber liquid on her tray. The sweet aroma was a trap as it filtered up from the beverage.

“There we go dearie, proper Pamarthen welcome to test the choobies,” she handed you one of the glasses, and you rolled your eyes before downing the fiery liquid down in one.

A raucous bellow from several tables, cups raised with approving respect at the minimal reaction you had to the drink.

Maker, it had been years since you had genuine Port in a Storm, the diluted knock-offs served offworld on the Core Planets were nothing to the inferno that exploded in your stomach the moment the alcohol hit it. Still, it tasted as good as you remembered it.

Skin humming with an internal heat, Nana beamed proudly, offering the other up to Din expectantly.

Oh, shit—

“Nana, he’s a Mandalorian.”

“And?”

You scrambled, her innocent questioning making it difficult to disappoint her.

“They can’t remove their helmets, he can’t drink it—” you explained and watched her smile fade.

Bad luck to not finish a offering of goodwill and welcome. You smiled encouragingly, taking the shot glass from the tray and raising it to her in cheers,

“White knight,” you chuckled and the relief on her face was obvious as she watched you down the second shot, wincing a little more as the second fire joined the first that had yet to abate in your stomach.

You were still more adept at drinking Port in a Storm than an offworlder, but Maker, some of these guys could drink it like water—not to mention downing a tankard before taking off in their starfighters. Whoever said it was a good omen to be able to guzzle an entire cup of it before flying had obviously had too much of the potent beverage themselves.

[waitingtobebroken]

May 15th Theme: Through The Years

Here is my entry for today's theme for the Good Omens Celebration!

"Flowers From The Grave Of Our Friendship" is a 6000 years slow burn in 50K words, following the ineffable idiots from Rome 41 AD to the days after the apocalypse.

As a commenter so lovingly put it, "It's like that common moment in romance stories when the character thinks the other doesn't REALLY love them (que angst) but, like, 6000 years of that. And on both sides."

It's a story about friendship, love and mutual misunderstandings that make these two ineffable idiots pine through the years. You get your first sex scene in chapter 1, your first love confession in chapter 6 and yet SO MANY half-said words and misunderstood gestures.

Summary:

Crowley is very good at temptation, not so good with what comes afterwards.

Aziraphale knows demons don't love so he is happy to take anything Crowley would give him.

Both of them are too blind to realize the thing they want is right in front of them.

Excerpts:

Rome 41 AD

Something seemed to occur to Crowley and his eyebrows narrowed.

"Have you... made an effort?" he asked suddenly, dangerously. Aziraphale could feel a blush climbing his cheeks.

"Well. Yes. It did get rather tedious expelling liquids the other way."

"And have you tried anything?" Crowley's eyebrows disappeared behind his sunglasses, his stare making the other squirm in his seat.

"I am an Angel," Aziraphale responded indignantly. It wasn't an answer, they both knew it. Something akin to a growl left the demon's mouth and, oh, Aziraphale really hated lying. "Maybe once or twice," he finally confessed, his whole body burning.

"Who with?" Crowley hissed, his body suddenly looming over the other, unnaturally tall.

Aziraphale wondered if you could blush to death. He dreaded to think of the paperwork associated with being discorporated, not to mention explaining to Gabriel why. He hung his head, staring pointedly at his fingers.

"Ah." A minute passed and suddenly the dim tavern was just a tad brighter. Crowley sat back in his chair, raising a glass that had filled itself without even being told. He shrugged slightly. "You are probably not doing it right"

~~~~

England 1595

"Are you busy today? Or are you off to some... temptation?"

The angel's blue eyes looked at him, with something Crowley refused to recognise as hope. He waved a hand dismissively. "Naaah, got the whole day off. Pity I'd have to spend it watching this junk."

He glued his eyes to the stage, even as he could feel the happiness rolling off the other in waves. If Aziraphale had been a demon, Crowley would have been sure he was simply tormenting him with all his smiles and little touches and his 'dear's. It would have been easier that way, he would have known it meant nothing.

It still didn't. Not in the way Crowley was desperate for it to.

They were friends. They drank together, argued over stupid little things, went to plays together. They even had the Arrangement. It wasn't the angel's fault Crowley wanted so much more. The bastard had probably even forgotten, Satan knew that unless it was book related, Aziraphale had the attention span of a blade of grass.

As the play progressed, Crowley retrieved a bottle of wine he had stashed under his shirt, much to the other's amazement.

"Crowley, there was positively no space for this under there," the angel reprimanded him, even as he miracled two glasses for them both. Crowley just wiggled his eyebrows with a smirk.

"Hush now, you can't possibly expect me to survive this sober."

~~~~

France 1793

The thing was, Aziraphale was an angel and as such he could feel love. He rather enjoyed that. He could feel the tentative flashes of new-born love, the burning passion of young love, that always left him feeling a little bit flushed. Or, his favourite, the one he could feel from old couples in the park, warm, like the sun in the spring, gently caressing your face.

Aziraphale could sense love. So he knew Crowley didn't have any towards him. He was okay with that, of course he was. His friend was a demon, he quite possibly could not feel love.

He still checked, ever so often, because Aziraphale was hopeful and hope hurt. There were flashes sometimes, that would make his hearts skip just enough beats for him to wonder if it might stop completely. Never for long, however, and never more. No, Crowley felt the same way now as he had once, back in the Garden.

Aziraphale was okay with that.

~~~~

England 1942

Friends. They could be friends.

Friends that still went to restaurants together, fed ducks at the park, got drunk and talked about nothing and everything.

Friends that didn't hold hands, didn't lean on one another when they were too drunk. Didn't remember how the other looked when he was falling apart. Didn't dream of scooping him close and shielding him in his wings until all of existence died.

[eiressofinspirationwrites]

Told You So

Pairing: Crowley x Reader

Note: Reader was banished from Heaven because of her eccentricities but did not entirely fall so you're not quite a demon either. A little different I know but oh well. Also, I feel like Crowley is just ever so slightly OOC in a few snippets but this was my first attempt at a Good Omens fic so I am still working on nailing his voice down.

Description: You and Crowley are attacked by wrathful angels in Aziraphale's bookshop a few weeks after you averted Armageddon. You defeat them but at what cost?

"Crowley" you gasped when you pulled your hand away from your side and saw it wet with your own blood.

When Crowley turned to face you, his serpentine eyes widened upon seeing the bloodstain blooming across your shirt, "No."

"I didn't even-" you didn't get to finish your sentence as your knees gave out as the pain finally hit you.

The sudden stop you experienced when Crowley's hands shot out to catch you jarred the wound, which caused a hiss of pain to escape from your lips.

"I've got you, Angel," Crowley gently promised as he slowly lowered you to the ground.

After peeling off his jacket, Crowley folded it and placed it underneath your head to cushion it against the hard floor.

"I'm not an angel, Crowley," you muttered through the pain.

"You're not exactly a demon either, love," Crowley reminded you as he positioned himself by the wound on your abdomen, "You never did fit in quite right with either side, you little rebel."

"I'm sor-" you were cut off by the shout of pain that Crowley elicited from you as he applied pressure to your wound.

"I know it hurts, Angel," Crowley sympathized, "but we have to slow the bleeding until help gets here."

"Crowley," you said, "I don't think I'm going to make it. There's too much blood."

"Don't say that," Crowley growled, but there were tears starting to form in his eyes, "You're going to be fine. You're going to be fine because I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you weren't because I love you."

"I love you, Crowley," you said as you reached up to press your palm against Crowley's cheek.

"Don't," Crowley pleaded, "Don't you dare say goodbye."

"I'm sorry," you apologized through your own tears, "I'm so sorry, Crowley."

"You've got nothing to be apologizing for, love," Crowley assured you, "but I need you to hold on just a bit longer, okay? Aziraphale will be here any second and he will be able to help us fix this."

"That was a celestial blade," you rasped as your breathing became shallow, "Crowley, I'm going to die."

"No, you're not," Crowley ordered, "You are going to be fine."

Before you had the chance to reply, you and Crowley heard the bell on the front door of Aziraphale's book shop chime and Aziraphale called out, "Hello?"

"We're in here!" Crowley called out.

A few seconds later, Aziraphale appeared in the doorway and he gasped when he saw the scene layed out in front of him.

"What happened?!" He exclaimed.

"She was stabbed," Crowley explained quickly, "We were attacked. Killed the bastards who did this but we didn't realize they had done some damage as well."

"I'll call an ambulance," Aziraphale said before he rushed out to make the call. Several minutes later he returned, "They're on their way but I found this."

He held out a small silver box and when he opened it, he revealed the small vial contained inside.

"Is that?" Crowley's eyes widened.

"The elixir of life," Aziraphale nodded and then spoke directly to you, "It's not much but it may keep you alive until help arrives."

"I'm already dying," you coughed, "what do I have to lose?"

Crowley watched intently as Aziraphale knelt beside you and lifted your head just enough so that you could drink the small amount of silver liquid from the vial.

Once it was gone, you started to glow ever so slightly but it quickly dissipated.

"That's it?!" Crowley snarled.

"I'm sorry, Crowley," Aziraphale frowned.

"It was worth a shot," you sighed.

"It doesn't change anything," Crowley insisted, "You're still going to be okay. The medics will be here soon and they will be able to fix you."

"Crowley, I don't-" once again you were unable to finish your sentence but this time it was because you fell unconscious.

"No!" Crowley bellowed as he abandoned his efforts to keep you from bleeding out but Aziraphale barked at him, "Crowley! Keep pressure on that wound!"

Crowley did as he was told and Aziraphale reached out to press two fingers to your neck and breathed a sigh of relief when he felt a pulse.

"She's still got a pulse," he relayed to Crowley, "It's very weak but it is there."

"Please, hold on, Angel," Crowley pleaded for what felt like the millionth time, "Just a bit longer and help will be here."

Almost as if on cue, the front door to the bookshop was pushed open and the angel and demon heard a voice call out, "Medics!"

"In here!" Crowley and Aziraphale called out in unison.

"What have we got?" The lead paramedic asked when he and his partner entered the back room.

"She was stabbed," Crowley explained, "and she's lost a lot of blood."

"We'll take it from here," the younger medic promised Crowley as she took his place applying pressure to the wound. A few short minutes later they had you stabilized enough to move you onto the stretcher and rush you to the ambulance.

"Are you two her next of kin?" The lead medic asked just before he closed the door to the ambulance.

"Yes," Aziraphale answered, "I'm her brother and this is her husband."

"Would you like to ride with her?" The lead medic asked Crowley.

"Yes," Crowley answered without hesitation before he climbed in the back, "Aziraphale, take my car. Meet us there."

Crowley had been waiting by your bedside for hours after the doctors finished working on you. He had been anxiously alternating between watching your face and watching the monitor that showed your steady heartbeat for any sign of trouble. He kept his fingers intertwined with yours partly for comfort and partly to reassure himself that you were still in fact there.

Aziraphale had popped in and out a few times. He respected the fact that Crowley was not in any condition to be hovered over but he remained close just in case anything happened.

Finally, after what felt like eons, you began to stir.

"Crowley?" You muttered weakly and your eyes opened ever so slightly.

"Hello, love," Crowley sighed with relief to finally see you awake, "How are you feeling?"

"Like I was run over by a truck and then impaled on a fence," you said a little more strongly.

"Well, that's descriptive," Crowley chuckled slightly, "I'm just relieved that you're alive, Angel."

"Thanks," you managed a small smile, "I guess this means you get to tell me I told you so?"

"Yes, it does," Crowley grinned, "and I have never been more grateful to be able to say those words in my entire existence."