#she will find a silver lining in this...

[blue-rose-soul]

Have you heard of swap hazbin hotel? If you do, then here is an idea for an au of Devil's bastard. This is roleswap, the personality would stay the same or similar.

What if it was alastor that open the hotel. The hotel's design would resemble his and his mother's old home. He did it as an experiment or because he was bored, knowing that no one would support redemption, no one except Charlie. She fully support the hotel idea and Alastor is now along the ride. Then when Charlie's father came, Alastor may not do much antagonize because he was the one that started the hotel and he may need support, so unfortunately he may have to grit his teeth while Lucifer does his "hell greatest dad". Don't worry, he will hold a grudge. When the reveal of Alastor's father happen, Lucifer will feel like putting a foot in his mouth due to his comment on Alastor and during his song.

What would the relationship be between Alastor and the hotel residents when the reveal happen?

Got a few asks about this, so I figured I'd combine 'em. I'll prolly won't address each and every point in these asks since I'm answering several at once.

Okay, so, to be honest, my opinion on roleswap AUs is kind of mixed. I think they can be a lot of fun, but I don't really like them when it's just swapping the character's aesthetics and narrative roles for no apparent reason. For a roleswap to be interesting to me, it has to highlight some underexplored aspect of a character, or some similarity between the swapped characters that isn't normally apparent. And I prefer there to be some in-universe reason why the roles are swapped, rather than it being just random.

One example I particularly like is a swap between Angel Dust and Vaggie, where Valentino was the one who came across Vaggie half-dead in the alley. In this universe where Angel Dust never signed a contract with Valentino but Vaggie did, Angel Dust stayed in his family's web of crime until he eventually joined the hotel. Even though each character ended up in one another's role, they still acted like themselves. Angel Dust was still Angel Dust, just with his mob connections more apparent and with the freedom to do things he couldn't while on Valentino's leash. And Vaggie was still very much the tough-as-nails former exorcist who, like the original Angel Dust, is the type to try to shoulder her burdens alone and reject outside help out of a sense of self-loathing.

I'm not as fond of most swaps between Charlie and Alastor because they usually end up feeling like wholly different characters to me. But in the comic I reblogged, what really sold it for me was Charlie's line about Alastor being an addict. I think it's fascinating if you view Alastor's need to kill as being similar to Husk's predisposition towards gambling, or Angel Dust's addiction to drugs and sex. For a character who routinely goes out of his way to be something Other Than Human, this is weirdly humanizing. Additionally, swapped Alastor's expression when Charlie calls him an addict suggests that she's right, and that the violent murderer we know in canon isn't entirely gone from this character. And if that's the case, then it's fair to assume the reverse is also true and the sweet, idealistic Charlie is somewhere under swapped Charlie's manic smile. This makes me want to follow their story, see what brought them to this point and where they'll go from here.

My biggest roadblock in setting up a swap AU of the Devil's Bastard AU - besides getting a bit frantic with sub-AUs already - is figuring out under what circumstances Alastor would open the Hazbin Hotel and Charlie would not. I would probably start with circumstances similar to the Raised Together AU, in which Lucifer found out about Nicaise getting pregnant with his son right away. But when Nicaise was murdered, instead of getting Alastor first, Lucifer went straight to Nicaise's killer to confront him. Unfortunately for the man's health, he was a drunkard and after what he did to Nicaise he heavily indulged. So when Lucifer appeared in front of him in all of his hellish, angelic glory, the man broke down in nearly incomprehensible babbling, and as he was begging for forgiveness for what he did to the woman and the boy, he inadvertently confessed to killing Alastor as well. All while Alastor was sleeping in the shed.

Lucifer slaughtered the man right then and there. What was left of his corpse didn't even look human by the time Lucifer was done with him. Then, heartbroken, Lucifer returned to Hell for good. In the aftermath he became even more fiercely protective of Charlie, not even letting her leave their family home without him or Lilith present. And this added yet more friction to his and Lilith's strained relationship. Sadly, Charlie's dreams hit their first major roadblock before she'd even gotten them off the ground.

But obviously Alastor wasn't dead. He didn't have an easy time of things after his kidnapper's death, since he wasn't able to weasel his way into that man's grace, but he was very much inspired by the event. He would still go on to become a serial killer, seeing it as the only way to fix what was wrong with the fucked up world he lived in. Plus, it was really really fun.

When he died and went on his Overlord murdering spree, he drew the attention of Lilith who immediately clocked there was something different about this sinner. Between what Lucifer had told her - at her discretion - about his child and human friend, the unnatural amount of power, and Alastor's name, she put two and two together almost instantly. She decides to keep a close eye on this particular sinner. With Lucifer more withdrawn than ever and keeping Charlie in isolation with him, it wasn't hard for her to keep his presence in Hell a secret. It was just a matter of figuring out what to do with this information.

Arrogant as he is, the day eventually comes when Alastor gets in over his head. Maybe he fared worse in the fight against Vox and Valentino than even they realized, maybe he got caught in the middle of an extermination. Whatever the case, Lilith swooped in and offered a deal; his life for his soul. And Alastor was in no position to say no.

With Alastor on her leash, Lilith decides on what to do with him. She's going to make her daughter's dream come true. Although Charlie hasn't been allowed to go out and interact with sinners regularly in decades, she still harbors hopes of saving them from exterminations. Something which Lilith is aligned in, though their methods are slightly different. And with her growing frustration towards Lucifer, wouldn't it be just beautiful if one of his very own detested sinners were to prove him wrong? Hence why she doesn't tell Lucifer that his son made his way to Hell after all. Of course, Alastor doesn't believe in redemption and wouldn't go along with this willingly, so Lilith gives him some motivation. If he can get one - just a single soul - into Heaven, she will return his soul to him. All he needs to do is prove it's possible.

As far as Alastor's concerned, she just gave him an impossible task as a means of taunting him. In his mind, she's basically told him, "You're mine forever." But, this is the only path available to him right now, so he sets to it.

The first Charlie ever learns of Alastor's existence is the broadcasts of his victims' screams. So she instantly recognizes the voice on the radio advertising a project aimed at doing no less than exactly what she's always dreamed of! Is it possible? Did one of the most bloodthirsty, ruthless, and dangerous Overlords decide to walk the path of redemption himself?

...Maybe. Charlie isn't naive enough not to suspect some ulterior motives from the Radio Demon. But she hopes. And it's that hope that fuels her to once again approach Lucifer and beg him to let her go out and help their people. Lucifer refuses to listen. He shuts her down, not willing to entertain the notion of a sinner fighting for redemption for even a moment. There's no point in having faith in them. Charlie leaves dejected.

Later that night, as she's once again rereading the story of how her parents met, the Radio Demon's voice rattling in her head, she decides she's had enough. Why did she ever bother with asking? Her parents are the original rebels! She grabs her cell phone, a few wads of cash, and - when they notice her leaving and don't try to stop her - Razzle and Dazzle, and disappears into the night.

Needless to say, Alastor is very, very confused when this mysterious Hellborn shows up on his doorstep, not wanting to seek redemption or protection from the exterminations, but declaring her intent to help. He's instantly suspicious, and it hits Charlie that Alastor won't believe any genuine offers of help. So she does the first thing she can think of; she acts shady. Her acting is a little awkward and stilted, but Alastor more readily believes that she's there to watch him make a fool of himself. Besides, as powerful as he is, the funding she offers will go a long way towards fixing up the facility. So the hotel gains a mysterious new facility manager with a hidden agenda in the form of the Princess of Hell. Not that she's telling anyone who she really is.

Eventually Charlie's sure that Lucifer will come looking for her, so she has to work fast to make this thing work before he figures out where she is.

She just doesn't know the clusterfuck that's awaiting her when that day finally comes.

[kashmimo]

contagious ☀

[nami-moittli]

I think you like Leah

…A little

[op3ra]

still obsessed with bway previews rusty. the fact that he didn't even check to see if he won before running off to check on pearl is the cutest thing on the entire planet and also so funny

[bluestjayy]

Life update:

I didn't make my deadline.

After approximately 200 applications, only 6 (first stage) interviews, 3 (second stage interviews), and more rejections than I could cope with some days, I unfortunately haven't been able to find a job since being laid off in September. This means I can no longer stay in my apartment. Which. Sucks.

I'm lucky enough to have my parents to fall back on, so I'll be moving back to their bungalow until I can find something to support me and save up enough money to come back to the city, so that's something. But it's also not going to be great for me while I'm there.

My hometown is an incredibly small mining town in the rural north-east, it's ridiculously close minded and conservative. I'm not out to any of my family for this reason, so I am for sure signing up for a minimum of a year being misgendered and stomaching casual bigotry from everyone I'm surrounded by.

And I love my parents, but our relationship isn't the best. They have a lot of really unhealthy, toxic, and occasionally abusive behaviours, and the way they treat each other and me is really... well it's not always good. Which is part of the reason I not only moved out but to a city that's 3 hours away in the first place. Their home is not intended for anyone but the two of them, it is incredibly small, and I will be living in a second room that only fits a camp bed and a small desk with very little privacy as this room is also where some of the utilities are. It's something, and I am so lucky to have this option at all vs complete homelessness. But I also know the toll this is all going to take on me physically, mentally, and emotionally.

I have already had to start looking at my current possessions, over 4 years of the life I built here, and decide which parts I get to keep and which I now have to leave behind.

Being back there is going to be... I don't know. I get into dark places whenever I go home for the holidays for a few days so living there again... I really don't know.

I guess the only thing keeping me going is the idea I will be able to come back to the city I'm in right now, the one I call home, eventually. It's just going to take some time.

And I have a plan, I am already job hunting for remote roles I can do back there, I'm open to taking on two or three if necessary, and I've started working on opening an Etsy store for some of my crafting creations that may also help me fundraise the money to leave a lot faster. Perhaps I'll even consider commissions again.

But it's definitely going to be a long long year getting myself back on my feet again.

One of the only upsides currently is how much time I have to be working on fic and art (whenever the muse allows me!) so that's something I guess haha.

Anyway, thoughts and love and support and virtual hugs go a long way for me rn, and if you're so inclined (absolutely 100% not necessary but every little helps) here is the link to my tip-jar:

Ko-Fi

Even just giving this post a share would really help me right now. Those who know me know I find it really difficult to ask for help even when I'm in desperate need of it but I think, after six weeks of this reality slowly creeping up on me, I have reached a point where I am ready to say I really need it.

The fandom communities I have found myself in the last year have been an absolute rock for me. And I am so glad I get to be a part of them with you all.

In the end, it will be okay. That's what I have to keep telling myself. Positively rebellious and rebelliously positive.

Thank you for reading, I hope you have a wonderful day and I appreciate you all so much 💛

[orpheusilver]

silvers sacrifices as a parallel to maxs compromises .? is this anything

[good-beanswrites]

I wrote my little Purge March section for Lights, Camera, Sing Your Sins :) Since I just snuck it into a preexisting chapter, I figured I'd make a quick post with it on it's own 👍

Amane knelt on the cold tile. She watched the water trickle from the ends of her hair. She could feel droplets across her whole body. She shivered slightly in the tight space.

Before Jackalope had even finished uttering ‘cut’ , a dozen hands were lifting her off the ground. Her head spun with all the voices offering comforting words. 

She gaped from inside the bundle of towels she’d been immediately wrapped in. Kazui had pulled one tightly around her shoulders while Yuno was using another to dab at her head. Kotoko knelt in front of her, rubbing her hands between hers to warm them up. Muu held up her change of clothes, with what looked like one of her own sweaters thrown in. Shidou and Fuuta ushered them out of the set pieces. The area had been designed to look as clustered as her home, but it was much more open than the cameras caught. With just a few steps she was back in the bright, warm studio.

Amane frowned, trying to shrug off the towel. “There’s no need for all of this. I signed off on my script, same as you all. None of you were treated as such during your videos.”

Mikoto poked his index finger into her shoulder. “Yeah, because none of us went through half the shit you did. Trust me, this isn’t because you’re a kid, it’s because this is majorly fucked up.”

She opened her mouth, but all her words died out. For so long, she’d repeated her protests that this was just how things were. She was finding it more and more difficult to argue with the others. She was having a hard time knowing what was wrong to believe.

“I really enjoyed your marching band rehearsal yesterday,” Shidou said, offering a warm smile. She did not return it. She could see through his weak attempt to change the subject. “Er… that looked very fun…”

“Yes, yes!” Yuno chimed in, giving her towel-swaddled body a squeeze. “I didn’t know you could baton twirl! You need to teach me, I’ve always wanted to do stuff like that!”

“Of course.” As the others joined in agreement, Amane did manage to return a bit of their warmth. She was rightfully proud of yesterday’s work. She’d impressed them with her perfect routine. It felt good to boast of a skill that none of those older than her could. Though it was shameful to admit, Amane was really looking forward to tomorrow’s filming. She wouldn’t even mind Shidou’s attention, if he was part of the group praising her talents.

As Yuno went on about the cute costume she’d get for filming the next day, Amane heard Mahiru from behind her. She’d grown more agitated with Jackalope, and her voice raised.

“What paperwork? This is horrific. You should be able to take her out of there in an instant.”

“We’ve got some unorthodox methods here, but I am not stealing a child. Please, Shiina, I’ll tell you when we make progress. Heh, don’t let this turn you into a kidnapper.”

“Well,” she could hear Kotoko, “it’s better than a murderer. Which is what I may be after watching this. And for real, this time.”

Fuuta joined in. “If I ever see any of these fuckers in person --”

“Keep your voice down,” Kazui said, “that’s her family you’re talking about. …Not that I disagree. But she doesn’t need to hear that.”

“Why not?” Fuuta muttered. “She was gonna do it anyway…”

It was true. Though, her motivation had been righteous, virtuous. Theirs was out of vengeance. ...Though, was vengeance in another’s’ name better? What about vengeance in her name?

“Either way,” Jackalope said, “I’m doing everything I can. You’ll be the first to know, okay?”

Amane tried not to dwell on it. Today, she just needed to hold her head high and do her duty, no matter how difficult things became. 

And she had always excelled at that.

So, she sank into the warm bundle. She leaned into Kotoko beside her. She accepted a drink from Haruka. She talked with the others as they asked more questions about her upcoming routine. Conflicting thoughts about what was wrong may have plagued her, but in that moment, she knew for certain that this felt right.

[salsa-ishida]

you're back!! it's been so long!! I missed you <3 <3

ahhhh I missed you too!! Life has been insistent on grinding me to a paste but we perservere

[wings-of-sapphire]

I HAVE COME BACK FROM THE WONKA MOVIE LOVES AND FUCKING HELL I HAVE MORE FEELINGS THAN I DID FOR WISH

The movie was great don’t get me wrong

I can look past the fact that they Cruella-d Willy and made him a sympathetic character who’s just a bit kooky and no longer a sociopath because Timothee Chalamet is a precious bean

BUT THE ONE PROBLEM I HAVE

IS THAT THEY DIDN’T MAKE MY GIRL NOODLE

INTO MISS HONEY

LIKE COME ON

THE SET UP IS THERE

WHY ELSE WOULD WONKA NOT GIVE THE FACTORY TO NOODLE

IS THIS NOT

DID NO ONE ELSE MAKE THIS CONNECTION

NONE OF MY FAMILY HAVE READ THE BOOKS AND I AM DYING BECAUSE THEY DO NOT UNDERSTAND MY VENT

NOODLE GROWS UP TO BE MISS HONEY

I CAN OVERLOOK EVERYTHING ELSE JUST WHY DID YOU MISS THIS OPPORTUNITY

[widowshill]

“He is not to them what he is to me,” I thought: “he is not of their kind. I believe he is of mine;—I am sure he is—I feel akin to him—I understand the language of his countenance and movements: though rank and wealth sever us widely, I have something in my brain and heart, in my blood and nerves, that assimilates me mentally to him.” Jane Eyre, XVII.

18 / 139 / 91 / 78 / 2 / 12 / 75 / 80 / 75

[lunasilvis]

1 advice to (too) many people: try to start taking yourselves and life less seriously. really

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash

Chapters 36-37

Had it been like that in the iron coffin?

Aelin gave no indication that the smothering dark bothered her, and had shown no inclination to illuminate their way. Hadn't even summoned an ember.

But the Little Folk, it seemed, had come prepared. And within heartbeats of entering the pitch-black river passage, blue light had kindled on a lantern dangling over the curved prow. Not light, not even magic. But small worms that glowed pale blue, as if they'd each swallowed the heart of a star. They'd been gathered into the lantern, and their soft light rippled over the water-smooth walls. A gentle, soothing light. At least, for her it was so.

Before Aelin had been given an ancient Faerie Queen's crown, her birthright and heritage.

The queen had stashed Mab's crown in one of their packs, as if it were no more than an extra sword belt. She hadn't spoken, and they had not asked her any questions, either.

Instead, she'd spent these past few hours sitting in the back of the boat, studying her unmarked hands, occasionally peering into the black waters beneath them. What she expected to see beyond her own rippling reflection, Elide didn’t want to know.

He'd crawled after Maeve on the beach to save Aelin. And he had found her during her escape-had ensured Aelin made it out. Did it wipe away what he'd done in summoning Maeve in the first place? Even if Maeve had set the trap, even if he hadn't known what Maeve intended for Aelin, did it erase his decision to call for her?

The last time they'd spoken as friends, it had been aboard that ship in the hours before Maeve's armada had arrived. He'd told her they needed to talk, and she'd assumed it was about their future, about them.

But perhaps he'd been about to tell her what he'd done, that he'd been wrong in acting before Aelin's plans played out. Elide stopped twisting the ring.

He'd done it for her. She knew it.

But the queen sitting silently behind them, no trace of that sharp-edged fire to be seen, nor that wicked grin she'd flashed at all who crossed her path ... Two months with a sadist. With two sadists. That had been the cost, and the burden that Aelin and all of them would bear.

That silence, that banked fire was because of him. Not entirely, but in some ways.

The collar had not been real. But the army Maeve had summoned was.

A blink into the gloom was the only indication that he was aware of her every movement. Aelin breathed in his scent, let its strength settle into her a bit deeper.

Their paths would meet again, or they would not. And if he found the final key and then brought it to her, she would pay what the gods demanded. What she owed Terrasen, the world.

Yet if Dorian chose to end it himself, to forge the Lock ... her stomach churned. He had the power. As much as she did, if not more so.

It was meant to be her sacrifice. Her blood shed to save them all. To let him claim it ... She could. She must. With Erawan no doubt unleashing himself on Terrasen, with Maeve's army likely to cause them untold grief, she could let Dorian do this. She trusted him. Even if she might never forgive herself for it. Her debt, it was supposed to have been her debt to pay.

Perhaps the punishment for failing to do so would be having to live with herself.

Having to live with all that had been done to her these months, too.

The blackness of the subterranean river pressed in, wrapped its arms around her and squeezed.

Different from the blackness of the iron box. The darkness she'd found inside herself.

A place she might never escape, not really.

Her power stirred, awakening. Aelin swallowed, refusing to acknowledge it. Heed it.

She wouldn't. Couldn't. Not yet. Until she was ready.

She had seen Rowan's face when she spoke of what his deception with the collar had prompted her to do. Had noted the way her companions looked at her, pity and fear in their eyes. At what had been done to her, what she'd become.

A new body. A foreign, strange body, as if she'd been ripped from one and shoved into another. Different from moving between her forms, somehow. She hadn't tried shifting into her human body yet. Didn't see the point.

Sitting in silence as the boat was pulled through the gloom, she felt the weight of those stares. Their dread. Felt them wondering just how broken she was.

You do not yield.

She knew that had been true—that it had been her mother's voice who had spoken and none other.

So she would not yield to this. What had been done. What remained. For the companions around her, to lift their despair, their fear, she wouldn't yield.

She'd fight for it, claw her way back to it, who she'd been before. Remember to swagger and grin and wink. She'd fight against that lingering stain on her soul, fight to ignore it. Would use this journey into the dark to piece herself back together-just enough to make it convincing.

Even if this fractured darkness now dwelled within her, even if speech was difficult, she would show them what they wished to see.

An unbroken Fire-Bringer. Aelin of the Wildfire.

She would show the world that lie as well. Make them believe it.

Maybe she'd one day believe it, too.

Days of near-silent travel passed.

Three days, if whatever senses Rowan and Gavriel possessed proved true. Perhaps the latter carried a pocket watch. Aelin didn't particularly care.

She used each of those days to consider what had been done, what lay before her.

Sometimes, the roar of her magic drowned out her thoughts. Sometimes it slumbered. She never heeded it.

They sailed through the darkness, the river below so black that they might as well have been drifting through Hellas's realm.

She hadn't asked him why he remained in his wolf's body. No one asked her why she remained in her Fae form, after all.

Rowan straightened, eyes sparking at her question-or at the fact that she'd spoken at all.

He'd kept by her these days, a silent, steady presence. Even when they'd slept, he'd remained a few feet away, still not touching, but just there. Close enough that the pine-and-snow scent of him eased her into slumber.

Silence at the order, even from Rowan. Aelin pointed to the lip of shore by the cave mouth. "Stop the boat," she repeated.

The queen had been reckless before Cairn and Maeve had worked on her for two months, but it seemed she'd had any bit of common sense flayed from her.

"Well, I don’t have any, so forgive me if I remain alert." No, she'd once told him that while magic flowed in the Lochan bloodline, she had none to speak of. He'd never told her that he'd always considered her cleverness to be a mighty magic on its own, regardless of Anneith's whisperings.

"It will take time for her to readjust."

She stared at him with those damning eyes.

He braced his forearms on his knees. "We got her back. She's with us now. What more do you want?" From me, He didn't need to add Elide straightened.

Elide straightened. "I don't want anything." From you.

This was where they'd have it out, then. "How much longer am I supposed to atone?"

"Are you growing bored with it?" He snarled.

She only glared at him. "I hadn't realized you were even atoning."

"I came here, didn't I?"

"For whom, exactly? Rowan? Aelin?"

"For both of them. And for you." There. Let it be laid before them.

"I told you on that beach: I want nothing to do with you."

"So one mistake and I am your eternal enemy?"

"She is my queen, and you summoned Maeve, then told her where the keys were, and you stood there while they did that to her."

"You have no idea what the blood oath can do. None."

"Fenrys broke the oath. He found a way."

"And had Aelin not been there to offer him another, he would have died." He let out a low, joyless laugh. "Perhaps that's what you would have preferred."

She ignored his last comment. "You didn't even try."

"I did," he snarled. "I fought it with everything I had. And it was not enough. If she'd ordered me to slit your throat, I would have. And if I had found a way to break the oath, I would have died, and she might very well have killed you or taken you afterward. On that beach, my only thought was to get Maeve to forget about you, to let you go-"

"I don't care about me! I didn't care about me on that beach!"

"Well, I do."

This was what came of opening that door to a place inside him that no one had ever breached. This mess, this hollowness in his chest that made him keep needing to make things right.

"Resent me all you like," he said, damning the hoarseness of his words. "I'm sure I'll survive."

Hurt flashed in her eyes. "Fine," she said, her voice brittle.

He hated that brittleness more than anything he'd ever encountered. Hated himself for causing it. But he had limits to how low he'd crawl.

He'd said his piece. If she wanted to wash her hands of him forever, then he would find a way to respect that. Live with it.

Somehow.

Gratitude shone in her eyes.

Rowan only gave her a nod. Don't worry about it.

Yet Aelin turned away, shutting off that silent conversation as she surveyed the space.

Time. It would take time for her to heal.

Even if he knew his Fireheart would pretend otherwise.

So, Rowan looked, too. Across the tomb, beyond the sarcophagus and treasure, an archway opened into another chamber. Perhaps another tomb, or an exit passage.

"We don't have time to find a way out,"

Rowan murmured as she strode into the tomb.

"And the caves remain safer than the surface."

"I'm not looking for a way out," she said in that calm, unmoved voice. She stooped, swiping up a fistful of gold coins stamped with forgotten king's face. "We're going to need to fund our travels. And the gods know what else." Rowan arched a brow. Aelin shrugged and shoved the gold into the pocket of her cloak. "Unless the pitiful clinking I heard from your coin purse didn't indicate you were low on funds."

That spark of wry humor, the taunting … She was trying. For his sake, or the others' maybe her own, she was trying.

Rowan gave the Lion a slashing grin. "You heard the lady."

A flash ruptured from where Fenrys had been sniffing at a trunk of jewels, and then a male was standing there. His gray clothes worn, but intactin better shape than the hollowed-out look in his eyes.

Aelin paused her looting.

Fenrys's throat bobbed, as if trying to remember speech. Then he said hoarsely, "We needed more pockets." He patted his own for emphasis.

Aelin's lips curved in a hint of a smile. She blinked at Fenrys—three times.

Fenrys blinked once in answer.

A code. They'd made up some silent code to communicate when he'd been ordered to remain in his wolf form.

Aelin's smile remained, just barely, as she walked to the golden-haired male, his bronze skin ashen. She opened her arms in silent offer.

To let him decide if he wished for contact. If he could endure it.

Just as Rowan would let her decide if she wished to touch him.

A small sigh broke from Fenrys before he folded Aelin into his arms, a shudder rippling through him. Rowan couldn't see her face, perhaps didn't need to, as her hands gripped Fenrys's jacket, so tightly they were white-knuckled.

A good sign—a small miracle, that either of them wished, could be touched. Rowan reminded himself of it, even while some intrinsic, male part of him tensed at the contact.

A territorial Fae bastard, she'd once called him. He'd do his best not to live up to that title.

"Thank you," Aelin said, her voice small in a way that made Rowan's chest crack further.

Fenrys didn't answer, but from the anguish on his face, Rowan knew no thanks were in order.

They pulled away, and Fenrys cupped her cheek. "When you are ready, we can talk."

About what they'd endured. To unravel all that had happened.

Aelin nodded, blowing out a breath. "Likewise."

She resumed shoving gold into her pockets, but glanced back to Fenrys, his face drawn. "I gave you the blood oath to save your life," she said. "But if you do not want it, Fenrys, I ... we can find some way to free you—"

"I want it," Fenrys said, no trace of his usual swaggering humor. He glanced to Rowan, and bowed his head. "It is my honor to serve this court. And serve you," he added to Aelin.

She waved a hand in dismissal, though Rowan didn't fail to note the sheen in her eyes as she stooped to gather more gold. Giving her a moment, he strode to Fenrys and clasped his shoulder. "It's good to have you back." He added, stumbling a bit on the word, "Brother." For that's what they would be. Had never been before, but what Fenrys had done for Aelin .. Yes, brother was what Rowan would call him. Even if Fenrys's own—

Fenrys's dark eyes flickered. "She killed Connall. Made him stab himself in the heart." A pearl-and-ruby necklace scattered from Gavriel's fingers.

The temperature in the tomb spiked, but there was no flash of flame, no swirl of embers.

As if Aelin's magic had surged, only to be leashed again.

Yet Aelin continued shoving gold and jewels into her pockets.

She'd witnessed it, too. That slaughter.

But it was Gavriel, approaching on silent feet even with the jewels and gold on the floor, who clasped Fenrys's other shoulder. "We will make sure that debt is paid before the end." The Lion had never uttered such words not toward their former queen. But fury burned in Gavriel's tawny gaze. Sorrow and fury.

Fenrys took a steadying breath and stepped away, the loss on his face mingling with something Rowan couldn't place. But now wasn't the time to ask, to pry.

Aelin continued picking her way amongst the treasure, however. She'd been more selective than the rest of them, examining pieces with what Rowan had assumed was a jeweler's eye. The gods knew she'd owned enough finery to tell what would fetch the highest price at market.

"We should go," he said. His own pockets were near to bursting, his every step weighed down.

She rose from a rusted metal chest she'd been riffling through.

Rowan remained still as she approached, something clenched in her palm. It was only when she stopped close enough for him to touch her that she unfurled her fingers.

Two golden rings lay there.

"I don't know the Fae customs," she said.

The thicker ring held an elegantly cut ruby within the band itself, while the smaller one bore a sparkling rectangular emerald mounted atop, the stone as large as her fingernail. "But when humans wed, rings are exchanged." Her fingers trembled-just slightly. Too many unspoken words lay between them. Yet now was not the time for that conversation, for that healing.

Not when they had to be on their way as swiftly as possible, and this offer she'd made him, this proof that she still wanted what lay between them, the vows they'd sworn ...

"I assume the sparkly emerald is for me," Rowan said with a half smile.

She huffed a laugh. The soft, whispered sound was as precious as the rings she'd found for them in this hoard. She took his hand, and he tried not to shudder in relief, tried not to fall to his knees as she slid the ruby ring onto his finger. It fit him perfectly, the ring no doubt forged for the king lying in this barrow.

Silently, Rowan grasped her own hand and eased on the emerald ring. "To whatever end," he whispered.

Silver lined her eyes. "To whatever end." A reminder-and a vow, more sacred than the wedding oaths they'd sworn on that ship.

To walk this path together, back from the darkness of the iron coffin. To face what waited in Terrasen, ancient promises to the gods be damned.

He ran his thumb over the back of her hand.

"I'll make the tattoo again." She swallowed, but nodded. "And," he added, "I'd like to add another. To me—and to you."

Her brows flicked up, but he squeezed her hand. You'll have to wait and see, Princess.

Another hint of a smile. She didn't balk from the silent words this time. Typical.

He opened his mouth to voice the question he'd been dying to ask for days now. May I kiss you? But she pulled her hand from his.

Admiring the wedding band sparkling on her finger, her mouth tightened as she turned over her palm. "I'll need to retrain."

Not a single callus marked her hands.

Aelin frowned at her too-thin body. "And pack on some muscle again." A slight quiver graced her words, but she curled her hands into fists at her sides and smirked at her clothes—the Mistward clothes. "It'll be just like old times."

Trying. She was dredging up that swagger and trying. So he would, too. Until she didn't need to any more.

Rowan gave her a crooked grin. "Just like old times," he said, following her out of the barrow and back toward the ebony river, "but with far less sleep."

He could have sworn the passageway heated. But Aelin kept going.

Later. That conversation, this unfinished business between them, would come later.

[h0neybane]

I'M A PUPPET ON A STRING

[fantastic-mr-corvid]

15 lines of dialogue

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

Tyy for the tag @arendaes ! i may have cheated and used two internal dialogs but Celia really doesn't talk- like at all. i got 8 lines of dialog from all my wips & works, then i trawled by tumblr tag. a woman of few words<3

“I just want to keep you all safe- to give you the best chance you can-” 

“I'm taking you home.”

She loves these idiotas, every fucking one of them.

“I swear, Cecio, i swear, i won't leave you alone again, i'm so sorry my little one, please forgive me, i never meant to leave you alone, my poor little Cecio,” 

“Stop trying to make me hurt you,”

“Your a fucking idiot too, Conficcare”

“For what it's worth, I never meant to replace-”

Holy Mother, she loves that woman-

“I trust you Elena,”

“Gonna fry up whatevers leftover, pulled a long day and didn't have time for a hot dinner. You're welcome to a plate-, you know I can't do portion sizes propa,”

"I would sooner betray myself."

Anything is justified when it is for the survival of those you love

+ bonus lines from the others:

“Love you too, idiota, but watch who your calling stupid, my stubborn Muro”- Elena

“You really must be out of it, if you're aren't threatening comical acts of violence upon me for feeling up your chest,” - Conficcare

“And that's your psa for Nurse Conficcare over, now it's just regular me- regular me says your a fucking idiot.” - Conficcare

Your a fucking idiot too, Conficcare” - Celia “Well look at that! We’re matching! Now get over here and let me fucking disinfect that” - Conficcare

“Trust him, Celia. And if you can't, do what you do best, and take his lead in how you act.” - Tesoro

“You’re not my damn father, what do you care?” - Rametto

“You always find a way to not get hurt, Not anymore” - Conficcare

"i may be a selfish monster and unashamed of it, but i will never tear down my family for coin or reputation" - Cecio

"what am i do do but as my sister, my leader wishes, what she says is best for me?" - Cecio

“Will you ever shut the fuck up” -some guy “No. I don't think I will-” - Cecio

[reitziluz]

got rid of the migraine only for it to be immediately reactivated by a combination of shock, forgetting to eat, and drinking too much energy drink.

i have to find a new place to live, because the landlords need my flat for family use.

uuuugh

the only good part is that i have six months to deal with the Ordeal so cruelly thrust upon me.

[love-birds-stuff]

actually, i went off the shits and made a semi-cohesive timeline based off my pinterest board (linked bc the image quality for this thing is absolutely ABYSMAL)