#that i keep almost picking up the first one again

[alchemistc]

"Any plans for your days off, Buck?"

Buck knows his grin is a little feral, but he's kind of hoping that'll throw them off the trail. It's barely been a year, and in that time they've had three natural disasters, one copter crash, a boss intent on making Buck's life a living hell, and two almost break-ups.

It's too soon, to know for sure, except Athena and Bobby had known, and Hen and Karen had known even if they were too scared to admit it at first, and Chim and Maddie may have taken a little longer to get there but they'd known.

And Buck knows. He knows he's never felt like this about anyone before. Knows no one has ever had the ability to infuriate him and calm his fears quite like Tommy Kinard can. Knows they could have done this like they joked about six months ago and they wouldn't have regretted it.

Hen is making a face like she's trying to decide if she wants to know whatever head-tilt-cheek-bite sexual innuendo Buck's got in the barrel, because she only appreciates that about half of the time and Buck's praying she decides on no because he's a terrible fucking liar and he doesn't like keeping things from people. But it's sort of a secret, for the next 48 hours, and Buck also wants to bask in it, wants to enjoy keeping it to himself for just a little while.

"Our Buckaroo is all grown up and refusing to over share about his sex life, praise be," Chim chips in, and Buck tucks his chin to his chest and hopes his pink cheeks read as embarrassed.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and around him lockers slam and voices drift over him. He's only got eyes for the text that just came through.

Bird's ready, suits are pressed, room is paid up. You wanna go to Adele, after? I think I know one of her people.

You know everyone, stop bragging, I'm already impressed

I'm always gonna try to impress you. You still at the station?

Yeah but not for long. I'll see you in like forty

"--right Buck?"

Buck blinks, hums, stares across at Chim.

"Please tell me you're not sexting at work right now."

"Technically, we are off the clock."

"I'll remind Clipboard Buck of that next time he shows up."

He's zipping up his bag when his phone buzzes again.

See you soon, baby.

He's pretty sure he's gonna get away with it - Hen and Chim are arguing about some reality show as they all trudge toward the open bay doors, and though he can hear their voices further back, Eddie and Bobby still seem to be deep in conversation.

Ravi comes out of left field, because of course he does, just finished inventory still clutched in his hand as he rounds the engine closest to Buck. "Hey, Buck, you and Tommy wanna catch that movie tomorrow night? I picked up a shift but I've got like twelve off in between."

Buck winces. Damn, so close. "Sorry, bud, we actually won't be in town."

Which he's realizing now is pretty uncharacteristic of the both of them, and Hen and Chim have clocked it, so he's gonna have to make a run for it, but he catches sight of raised brows and questioning expressions and he can't give them nothing.

"Tommy's taking me to Vegas, we might see Adele, okay bye!"

They absolutely let him make a break for it, let him scramble into the Jeep, let him send them all a quick wave before he peels out of his parking spot, and Buck spends the drive to Harbor viscously ignoring the steady buzzing from his phone.

---

Tommy snags the backpack from his shoulder before he's fully out the door, and tugs a belt loop to pull him close. Buck is pretty sure he'll never get over how much he likes being manhandled, just a bit.

"You wanna tell me why Chim and Hen both wished us a good flight?"

"Ravi ambushed me on my way out the door. Technically, they don't know anything about anything, except maybe Adele."

Tommy's fond smile makes Buck feel all warm and tingly inside, and he basks in the glow as Tommy nudges a knee between the open bow of Buck's legs.

Tommy's expression morphs, a bit, lips dropping as he tilts his head. "You having second thoughts? We don't have to-."

"No. No second thoughts."

"Evan, I know how close you are to your family. If you want to wait, make this something you can share with them, we can hold off."

He's so goddamn charmed by this man - by how he cares, by how well he knows Buck, by a million and one tiny things that Buck gleefully hoards his knowledge of like a dragon over his caverns of treasure.

"I kinda don't want to share you, for this." It's the first time since Tommy's brought it back up that Buck's been able to express exactly why the prospect makes him so giddy, but there it is. Possessive jealous Buck rears his ugly head again, only Tommy has always been a little charmed by that. At least when Buck expressed it in a healthy way.

"The moment they know, it's gonna be a spectacle," Tommy agrees, fingers curling over Buck's side.

"Exactly. So. Take me to Vegas and wife me up before one of them shows up trying to tag along."

He expects the dramatic eye roll, and Tommy's fingers digging into his sides. He doesn't expect the ear-ringing whistle echoing through the bay door to their left, or the smirk on Lucy Donato's face when she lets her looped thumb and pointer finger drop from her lips.

"We should definitely go before any of them remembers to hit her up for more details."

"Why would she -."

"Yeah she caught a look at the manifest and snooped until she found the rings."

"So you're actually worse at keeping a secret than I am."

"They're all gonna know before we land back home."

"Hen's gonna break like thirty bylaws trying to decorate a county owned chopper."

"Evan, seriously, we can still -."

Buck only knows one sure-fire way of stopping Tommy from spiraling too much - he uses the little bit of leverage he has plastered to the open door of his Jeep to catch Tommy's lips, and the resulting pleased hum shivers down his spine. Evan takes a moment to be pleased that Tommy hadn't shaved this morning like he'd threatened, and then he's tilting his head for a better angle and losing himself in it long enough that a few more wolf-whistles make their way across the tarmac -- Wendell and York, most likely, but when Buck finally breaks the kiss to dart a look over Tommy's shoulder, everyone has made themselves scarce.

"You gonna marry me or not, Kinard?"

It's a rare thing, but sometimes, when Buck makes him a little extra wild, Tommy does this growling thing that Buck always feels down to his toes. Tommy kisses him breathless again when Buck responds to this growl with a satisfied smirk.

---

"How much you wanna bet Hen convinces you to do a vow renewal within six months."

Buck's busy nipping at a spot of flesh just above Tommy's transverse abdominis, so it takes a second for his brain to catch up with the words.

"It's gonna be Maddie, and she's gonna rope you into it before you realize what's happening."

Tommy hums, pleased, not denying it, and runs a hand through Buck's hair, palm curling over his crown. It takes Buck a moment to figure out why it doesn't feel quite as familiar as it always does, and then he's reaching for it with a hand of his own, the tips of two fingers sliding along the smooth metal surface of Tommy's ring.

The smile he shoots up from the general area of Tommy's groin is all puppy-dog grin, and he basks in the soft, warm grin Tommy sends back. Buck tracks the crinkle of Tommy's eyes like a lifeline.

"I'm gonna lord it over everyone's head that we didn't get married because of, during, or after a health scare or a natural disaster."

"You asked me two days after we made up because of a flash flood we both thought we were gonna lose each other to, but okay."

Tommy's smile is soft. The fingers that slide around his scalp to brush reverently over his birthmark are even softer. "That time doesn't count, because we didn't follow through. You thought I was joking."

He had, honestly, at first, because they'd technically still been broken up at the time and the adrenaline and the terror at nearly losing one another had still been close. It'd taken him three days and Tommy angrily re-ringing his house key back onto Buck's keychain to realize Tommy maybe hadn't actually been joking about hopping in the chopper the next time they both had 24 off.

He's glad they'd taken the extra time, though. Glad they'd had time to drive halfway across the state in search of a ring shop they could be sure they wouldn't run into anyone at, glad they'd had the time to get new suits tailored, glad he'd had time to fuss over vows he'd still cried about while he was saying them, glad they'd done it without an Elvis impersonator standing just off to the side.

"You're stuck with me now," Buck tells him, and Buck knows Tommy's delighted bark of laughter will keep him warm for years.

[wonryllis]

after hours, i can be whatever you want me to be ⭑ ( lhs. )

⭑ FEATURING horrendously down down bad lee heeseung x kinda naive philophobic fem!reader. where heeseung has no intentions of escaping your cages, forever remaining under the spell of your love. ( ARCHIVE? )

⭑ GENRE & WARNINGS fluff, toxic situation, almost kissing, mildly suggestive WORDCOUNT 0.834k

she's crazy but i love her.

heeseung's steps are slow and calculated, eyes glued on your figure trying to make your way to his car. stumbling and wobbly in heels you (kind of) seem accustomed to, feet clicking against the pavement in a hasty stride. he's worried. you were out with friends past midnight on a weekday, called him all drunk to pick you up from the bar and now you are barely able to walk straight, ankle on the verge of twisting at any given moment but you wouldn't let him hold you. he's worried sick.

"angel please just hold onto me hm?" he pleads rushing over when you visibly slip on an uneven part, hands almost gripping around your waist as you manage to keep your balance, staggering back into his arms in a couple of steps.

"you! who are you!" your hands push against his chest as you turn around startled. there it goes, again! heeseung sighs knowing what's to come. it's the third time in the last fifteen minutes, going over this exact conversation word to word.

"it's heeseung, your cousin's friend and your friend," he makes sure to emphasize on 'your friend' trying to stop this before it gets further into the loop.

"where's my cousin?" you ask, looking around the rather empty parking lot.

"he working," heeseung's explanation is dry because he knows you'll cut him off before he can say anything more,"and why are you here?" just like that. he remembers the first time this happened, when you were actually sober and met him at your cousin brother: jay's workplace. you showed up out of nowhere, without any notice and jay was going bonkers at how he'll get you back home when he has the most important client waiting for him in the next room. heeseung hadn't thought much when he offered to drop you off, a favor for a friend that was all it was to him.

"because you called me, angel," but god was he wrong, for he swears the moment he laid his eyes on you he was a goner. you were too darn pretty to be just a favor. you were younger, a party girl always running out to frat and sorority gatherings, bars and clubs. often calling jay to pick you up to avoid letting your parents know of your shenanigans.

"why did i call you and not my cousin?" everytime he had wished it was him and not jay, even though ultimately he was the one who went. carrying your cute drunk ass to your mansion and getting you to your room as discreetly as possible. you are a rich girl, two worlds apart and heeseung has felt it in many ways than not.

"because i'm your cousin's friend and you know me well," heeseung never thought he'd ever be more than just your cousin's friend to you. at least he hopes he is more. you have done things with him that you'd definitely not do with just your cousin's friend. a space curtaining acquaintance and lover, he hangs dangerously cold and heedless.

"so where's my cousin?" between days left ghosted and nights you throw your arms around him he stands unsure of his place in your life. at times he feels you know he's the one who could treat you better than any of the guys you cry for. yet there are moments when there's this sturdy wall you build, holding him away for the sake of not losing him like others. afraid of love is what you refuse you are but heeseung knows your conceptions of it are a little too twisted, broken he dare say. and his love for you is so far and conflicted to the things you have experienced, he understands the lengths and the time it will take for you to recognize and accept him.

"you know what, i'm getting you in the car myself," in an instance his hands grip at the back of knees and the curve of your waist, hauling you up in his arms. he walks quick to his car parked at the far end, smiling through the constant pouty mumbles of yours. eyeing you every two seconds, not being able to resist that pretty face of yours.

it is absolutely not in him to ever resist that pretty face of yours, your pretty eyes and your pretty lips as they graze against his own in gentle brushes. arms looped around his neck and thighs resting on the soft matress of your bed, albeit on each side of his own, yet again. sitting on his lap, so close, bodies pressed. "heeseungie, please stay," your voice a sultry whisper of a whine, a naive vixen, if that's even a thing.

lee heeseung knows he will never have the power to refuse you, he will be whatever you want him to be for how ever long you will want him to be.

you make him crazy and he loves you for that.

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @ro-diaries @aaa-sia @okwonyo @enhabooks @jjunae @criminalyun @enhacrumbsss @oddracha @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @mxxnintheskyreblogs

[greynatomy]

so american

mapi león x reader

pretend that spain drives on the left side of the road. some of the italicized dialogue is supposed to be the character speaking spanish

happy two years of writing woso fics to me!! thank you for reading!

———

Who knew going to Barcelona on a very last minute decision was the best choice you have ever made?

—

Coming off of an end of your United States tour high, you wanted to take some time for yourself after spending months with thousands of people. You’ve traveled the world doing these shows, but never had the time to enjoy these places. 

Touching down in Barcelona, you picked up your rental and made your way to your home for the next couple of weeks.

The first few days were nothing exciting. The beaches were beautiful, same with all the structures. You were very relaxed.

After a week of staying cooped up in your house, you thought it was time to see what Spain has to offer and you were not disappointed at all. You were a tourist and went to all the tourist spots, camera hanging around your neck. You were having the time of your life.

Wanting to end the day on a high, you saw a club you wanted to go to. Seeing there was a waitlist, you had your assistant call and hopefully get you on the list for tonight. 

Fortunately, she was able to.

Making your way to the bar, you had to squeeze through the people a bit.

“Vodka cran please!” 

Getting a nod, you turn away from the bar, scanning the whole place. There was a bit of everything, make-outs, shotguns, dancing, all on their own little groups, no one left behind. You felt like a bit of an outcast, but not for long.

“Hola, bebé.”

Turning to your left, you’re met with an arm littered with tattoos and a neck, another tattoo right on the center.

“Looks can be deceiving. Hmm.” 

“Like what you see?”

“Maybe.” You shrug, grabbing the drink placed in front of you. Looking up, you make eye contact, keeping it as you take a sip through your straw.

“You understand?” She was taken aback that you understood her. You shrug again, playing the mysterious card. She smirks at you, taking you by surprise when she drags you onto the dance floor.

The whole night was a blur, the next thing you remember is waking up to the sun shining through the curtains, the smell of something cooking in the air.

Making your way out of the unfamiliar room, still dressed in the clothes from your night out, seeing a person with a familiar arm littered with tattoos by the stove.

“Hola.”

Turning around, Mapi is met with your figure. “Ah, bebé! I made some breakfasts. Come sit.” You sat down awkwardly, not remembering much that happened after leaving the club. Mapi, seeing the look on your face, speaks up, “We didn’t sleep together.”

She thought that was the reason you looked uncomfortable, but that wasn’t the case.

“That’s a shame.” Her eyes almost popped out of their socket. “I’m just uncomfortable with wearing the same clothes from last night.”

“Oh!” She gets up, grabbing your arm and pulling you back into a different room. “Choose anything you’d like and the shower is over there if you want. I’ll leave you to it.”

You noticed how much clothes Mapi owned, excited to ‘borrow’ a few. After a very quick shower, the weather being a bit chilly, you grab the hoodie hanging off the back of a chair and put it on, walking out of the room.

Hearing footsteps coming closer behind her, Mapi turns but freezes at the sight of you. Her clothes pretty much almost swallows you whole.

“Bonita.” Mapi said softly to herself, not intending for you to hear. 

“You said to pick anything.” You shrug, going over to sit next to her.

There was a bit of an awkward silence that filled the room.

“I hope you don’t mind that I brought you to my home.”

“Oh! No, not at all. I’m kinda glad you did.”

The awkwardness went away pretty quickly, talking like you’ve both known each other for a while. She drove you to all her favorite spots, bringing you to her favorite restaurants. before you both know it, it was time for you to go home.

Spending the past couple of weeks with Mapi was something you would never regret. You went to a couple of games incognito, she spent some days at your place, it was like you were both in your own little bubble, not wanting it it be popped.

It’s been two months since you got back home. You and Mapi haven’t lost contact, you’re still very much obsessed with her.

You just put on some comfy clothes after getting out of the shower when your doorbell rang. ‘Who the hell rings a doorbell an hour before midnight?’ you thought. Looking through the peephole, you couldn’t believe it.

Throwing the door open, you launch yourself into their arms, holding them tight.

“What are you doing here?” You mumble, voice muffled into her neck.

“It’s a surprise and you’re surprised.”

She was staying for two weeks, still recovering from an injury. You’ve gone back and created your little bubble and loved every second of it.

You’re driving to your destination, wanting to take a little trip.

“You’re so pretty.” Mapi mentioned, a hand resting on your thigh.

“What?”

“Wearing my clothes.”

Heat rises up to your cheeks, not able to stop how flustered you are. She sat in the passenger seat, feet propped up on the dash. It almost felt like you were part of a romance film.

It was a few days later, Mapi had gone back to Spain and you were hanging out at your house with a couple of people. There were games, food and drinks. You were a bit drunk and when you were drunk, you get talkative and giggly, even texting Mapi.

—

—

“Did- did you know that Ma-Mapi plays soccer. Wait, no, foot bowl.”

You were hanging off of your friend as she tries to get you in bed.”

“Yes I do.”

“Oh! This is Mapi’s. She told me I can keep it.” You were now burying your face into a hoodie, taking deep breaths in. “Doesn’t smell like her anymore though.” You pouted, tears edging to fall out of your eyes.

“Okay! How about you go to sleep and you can call Mapi when you wake up?”

You were already out cold when she drapes the blanket over you. Walking back downstairs, she’s met by the rest of the group.

“How was she?”

“She’s out like a light and guess what?”

“What?”

“Talking about Mapi again.”

“Of course.”

—

Two weeks into the international leg of your tour, you’ve done something that only a few people knew. Having just released an album earlier this year, another song wouldn’t be expected so soon, but here you are on stage, talking to the audience.

“Okay. So as you all know, this tour is all about me spilling everything to you guys.” The whole room breaks out in cheers. “And since I am already spilling everything, I might as well spill some more!”

“As none of you know,” Everyone laughs. “This city of Barcelona has become one of my favorite places that I have ever visited because… I might’ve met someone here.” The crowd cheers. “And they may or may not be in the audience tonight.” The crowd cheers even louder. “Anyway, this was the easiest song I have ever written because, well you’ll know why once you hear it.”

In the crowd, Mapi was with the whole team of Barça, surprised with the little soft launch you did introducing a new song. You’ve both talked about possibly going public soon, but didn’t realize that you were going to do it at your concert in front of all your fans.

You grab your guitar from one of the stage hands, stepping in front of your microphone, grabbing it once the band starts to play.

Drivin' on the right-side road She says I'm pretty wearin' her clothes And she's got hands that make Hell seem cold Feet on the dashboard, she's like a poem I wish I wrote I wish I wrote

Mapi became speechless. Did you really write a song about her? Are you really singing it for everyone to hear?

“Dude you didn’t tell me she wrote you a song!” Alexia gave Mapi a little shove, a teasing smile on her face.

“This is news to me!”

And she laughs at all my jokes And she says I'm so American Oh, God, it's just not fair of her To make me feel this much I'd go anywhere she goes And she says I'm so American Oh, God, I'm gonna marry her If she keeps this shit up I might just be in lo-lo-, lo-lo-, lo-lo-, lo-lo-lo-lo-love

Mapi’s eyes look like they were about to pop out of their sockets. The two of you have never said the ‘L’ word to each other yet, but she’d be lying if she said there weren’t times where she almost said it.

God, I'm so boring, and I'm so rude Can't have a conversation if it's not all about you The way you dress, and the books you read I really love my bed, but, man, it's hard to sleep when she's with me When she's with me

Ever since she left Los Angeles, Mapi has also been having a hard time falling asleep, so used to having you in her arms.

And she laughs at all my jokes And she says I'm so American Oh, God, it's just not fair of her To make me feel this much I'd go anywhere she goes And she says I'm so American Oh, God, I'm gonna marry her If she keeps this shit up I might just be in lo-lo-, lo-lo-, lo-lo-, lo-lo-love

I apologize if it's a little too much, just a little too soon But if the conversation ever were to come up I don't wanna assume this stuff But ain't it love?  I think I'm in love

She wanted to run up on the stage and say the words she’s been wanting to say for so long. You technically beat her in saying it, professing it to her and to the whole audience.

And she laughs at all my jokes And she says I'm so American Oh, God, it's just not fair of her To make me feel this much I'd go anywhere she goes And she says I'm so American Oh, God, I'm gonna marry her If she keeps this shit up I might just be in lo-lo-, lo-lo-, lo-lo-, lo-lo-lo-lo-love

—

liked by marialeonn16, user1 and 8,363,829 others

yourinstagram 5 new tunes for ya!! GUTS (spilled) out this friday!!!!!

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user1 AHHHHHH i can’t wait

user2 she preformed so american for us!!!

↳ user3 i loved it so much!

↳ user4 girlie is IN LOVEEE

—

Mapi and the rest of the team followed your bodyguard, Tony, to your dressing room, eating for you to finish thanking the fans. the door opens not that long after as they all spot you walking in.

You see Mapi right away, running to her, even in your tired state, jumping into her arms.

“Hola mi bebé.”

“Hey. I’m so tired.”

“Why don’t you get dressed comfy so we can go back home.”

“Yeah, home.” You walk away, waving to everyone else in the room, before going to get changed.

Two days after, you were still in Barcelona, specifically making sure you’ve taken a week break from tour to be able to stay with Mapi for a bit. You were both walking hand in hand around the city, wanting to spend time with each other doing whatever, just happy to be with her.

—

Y/N Y/LN New Fling?

Y/N Y/LN, an international pop star, was seen getting cozy with a mystery woman in Barcelona.

Just a couple of weeks ago, Y/LN started her international leg of her GUTS tour, preforming in Barcelona two days ago. On stage, she announced a deluxe version of her album, GUTS (spilled), where it features a song she performed for the first time called ‘so american.’

In the song, she said that she is “gonna marry her” and she “might just be in love” so, no this might not just be her new flavor of the week. Is Y/N Y/LN ready to settle down?

Y/LN has been previously linked with Lily Rose Depp, Joshua Basset, and Adam Faze just to name a few. None of those has seemed to last. Paparazzi has caught sight of Y/LN going all around the city of Barcelona with her new supposed girlfriend that we’ve found out is María Pilar León (Mapi), who plays on the Barcelona Femení Football Club. Pictures of the two are now circulating online and we have to say, Y/N looks very much in love. Take a look yourself.

Aren’t they just so cute! Let us know what you think.

—

Sitting on the couch watching a movie with Mapi, your phone suddenly starts going off with notifications.

Man-anger

Just a heads up, you’ve been paparazzied with your gf today.

You

Alright, thanks 👍🏼

“Ugh!” You throw your head back in frustration.

“What’s wrong bebé?”

“Damn paparazzi won’t leave me alone. They got pictures of us and posted them everywhere. I’m sorry. And they said that you’re hopefully not just my flavor of the week. Like what the fuck does that mean?”

“Wait, why are you sorry?”

“Cause I know you wanted to be private about this whole thing and this just ruined it.”

“Hey, hey.” Mapi holds your hands, moving them away from covering your face. “I’m not mad mi amor. We agreed on private but not secret. You can’t prevent people from taking pictures in public, especially of you. Eres hermosa.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and I don’t want to keep hiding how much I love you.”

You freeze. This was the first time Mapi had said she loved you. You know that you technically said it in the song, but now you’re for sure.

“I love you.”

Mapi guides your face to her’s with a hand on your cheek, pulling you into a kiss. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, wrapping your arms around her neck, deepening it.

—

liked by marialeonn16, user1 and 10,638,742 others

yourinstagram i know i’m in love

tagged : @/marialeonn16

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[iamthecomet]

𝙴𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚊𝚍

Rating: E Pairing: Dewther Featuring: Blowjobs, hand jobs, a long drive. Roadhead. Word Count: 2.1k Inspired by this post from @dewinabsentia Many thanks to @miasmaghoul, @forlorn-crows and @st-danger for enabling me (like always). Banner by the amazing @forlorn-crows

On AO3 here, or under the cut.

They've been on the road for a while. Long enough that Dew has sunk into the easy monotony of highway driving. One hand on the wheel. The other arm resting in the open window. A cigarette dangling from his fingers. Ash drifting down onto the window controls. He’ll brush them away later. Before they get home and Mountain sees.

The old truck is the only car he's allowed to smoke in, so naturally he has to take full advantage. He takes a long drag. Keeps a cursory eye on the cars in front of him. They’re far enough ahead that he doesn’t really have to think about them. He hates driving near other people, because everyone else is a fucking terrible driver. They don’t pay attention. They go too slow. They tap their brakes on straight flat sections of roads. He wants to be able to relax while he drives–he doesn’t want to have to fight for his life among idiots.

Dew sinks deeper into the seat. He wishes, for the millionth time, that the old truck had cruise control. But it doesn’t. It’s an early 90s relic, with manual crank windows, and heavy doors that stick when you open them. The cloth on the bench seat is soft and warm and riddled with cigarette burns that mostly aren’t Dew’s fault.

It’s a far cry from the modernity of the other cars in Abbey possession. But this one is Dew’s favorite. It struggles to start sometimes, it guzzles gas. But the stereo is new, and loud. And it’s so sturdy Dew’s pretty sure it could survive nuclear war.

He finishes his cigarette. He grinds it out in the ashtray–because it’s old enough to have both an ashtray and a cigarette lighter.

Aether’s across the bench seat from him. Leaning up against the door. Singing along softly to the music as he looks out the window. Watching the trees flicker by. Tensing up every time someone merges onto the highway next to them a little too aggressively.

He’s had his hand on Dew’s thigh for the last twenty miles. Warm and heavy and creeping higher and higher with each exit they pass.

Dew feels free for the first time in months. Away from the Abbey. Just the two of them in an old beat up truck. Traveling a hundred miles north to pick up some artifact Imperator insists they have. Dew feels like he can breathe. No band practice. No Imperator or Copia or Mountain breathing down his neck. No Cirrus telling him to do the dishes. Or Aeon asking to practice. He loves all of them with every bit of his soul.

But Satanas did he need this drive. He’s glad it’s Aether who’s with him. Everyone else feels the need to talk when they’re in a car. To fill silence. To tell Dew every mundane thing about their day, their week, their feelings. And again, he loves them. He loves listening to them talk about literally anything. But also–there’s something about the sound of the wheels on the road, and the music and nothing else.

Aether’s hand slides higher the longer they go. Dragging up Dew’s black jeans. There’s a rip in the upper thigh–just below the pocket–and Dew almost jumps out of his skin when he feels Aether’s fingers dip into it. Just a little. The warm calloused brush of his fingers over soft sensitive skin.

Dew lets his head fall back against the headrest. He laughs to himself. “You bored or something?”

Aether shakes his head, he turns to look at Dew for what feels like the first time since they got on the highway. “Course not. I’m with you.”

“Gross,” Dew rolls his eyes, and Aether laughs at him. That big hand on his thigh squeezes and Dew makes a choked little noise as Aethers’ fingers graze over the the crotch of his jeans, the barest touch along his balls and he’s trying not to shudder.

“I’m driving,” Dew chides.

“Yeah, I know. But I’m not.”

Dew knows he’s in trouble before Aether actually does anything. It’s the weight of his hand on his leg. The glint in those violet eyes that tell Dew it is only going to get worse. And Dew knows he could stop it–he also knows he won’t. He doesn’t want to.

He’ll protest though, just a little. That’s part of the fun, after all. But it isn’t like he’s going to say no to a handjob. Driving is only taking up like 10% of his brain–the other 90 needs something to do.

Aether’s hand slides sideways, into Dew’s lap. Cupping him through his jeans. Dew hisses. His eyes flutter closed just for a second. Breath huffing out in a soft sigh that almost feels like relief.

“Eyes on the road, Dewdrop.”

“Yes, mom.” Dew says, opening his eyes. Trying and failing to regain an ounce of his composure. Aether squeezes and Dew makes a pained gurgling sound and presses his hips up into Aether’s hand.

Aether palms him, stroking and squeezing. Fingers dipping between Dew’s legs to press up against his balls. Dew can practically feel the blood leaving his brain. His pants get tighter, Aether’s squeezes get firmer. He doesn’t have the will to fight the little sighs and whimpers each stroke brings.

“Satanas, Aeth–”

“Just getting started,” Aether mutters, and Dew’s stomach swoops. Either from anticipation or concern. He doesn’t have time to voice it before Aether’s grabbing for his zipper. The rasp of it is drowned out by the music. Aether pops the button on Dew’s jeans. It takes both hands to peel away the tight fabric, and Dew doesn’t help. Just glancing down long enough to watch Aether pull his briefs down until Dew’s cock springs free.

There’s already pre beading at the tip. Aether swipes his thumb through it and Dew shudders, a full body twitch he has no hope of controlling. They’re so lucky the highway is basically deserted. Lucky it’s straight and flat and familiar.

Dew should stop him. That would be safer. He rolls his hips instead. Fucking his cock through Aether’s loose fist.

“Sit back, relax,” Aether coos. And Dew would snap at him if he had any brain cells left to do it. Instead, he listens, as best he can. Eyes on the road. Each slow stroke of Aether’s hand sending little fissures of pleasure up his spine. He tries to keep from rocking his hips up into Aether’s hand–but it’s hard.

It’s good, easy. Not enough to make him cum, but that’s what he wants. A little pleasure to break up the monotony of this drive. He relaxes back into the seat, really relaxes. Fingers loosening on the wheel, body sagging back into the seat as the haze of pleasure settles over him.

“Good?”

Dew nods, hums an affirmative. “Real good.”

Aether lets out a little chuckle, and then, Dew hears his seatbelt click. He jolts, spine going straight. Head whipping over to look at Aether just in time to watch the seatbelt retract back into the door.

“What are you–”

“You’ll see.”

Aether shifts, moves so he’s laying flat against the bench seat. Legs hanging off the edge by the door. One hand resting heavy on Dew’s thigh–the other, still teasing the sticky head of his cock.

Dew’s head spins. It takes too long for real thoughts to catch up to him. Aether drags his thumbnail over the thick vein on the underside of Dew’s cock and Dew chokes. He shakes his head like doing that will make him think more clearly.

It doesn’t work.

“Put your fucking seatbelt on, we’re on the highway,” Dew snaps, the words finally forming.

Aether hums. His breath ghosts out over the head of Dew’s cock. Dew looks down just in time to watch it kick. A blurt of pre, drools down the side. Aether catches it with his tongue.

“Guess you’d better drive careful, then.”

Dew doesn’t think any part of this constitutes driving carefully. He puts his other hand on the wheel. Ten and two. He never drives like this–but he’s pretty sure he’s going to need both hands.

To his credit–Aether starts slow. A chaste kiss to the head, before he starts to really kiss it. Dew can’t help but look down. To watch Aether make out with the head of his cock. Tongue flicking out over the slit. Tongue dragging over the head in the same motions Dew is so used to feeling against his own tongue. Languid and decadent. Aether hums happily as he laps up more pre.

“Eyes on the road, droplet,” Aether mumbles against the sensitive underside of Dew’s cock.

Dew drags his eyes up and away from the scene below him. Back to the road, which is a safer, but much less interesting option. It’s almost worse when he can’t see it. When he doesn’t anticipate Aether’s every move. Each flick of his tongue is a surprise. A new brand of raw pleasure that has his knuckles going white on the steering wheel.

Aether sucks the head into his mouth and Dew jolts. Groaning low and wrecked. Hips bucking up, sliding another inch into the wet heat of Aether’s mouth. His eyes flutter–he manages to keep them open. Mostly by clenching his jaw so hard it actually hurts. He worries, vaguely, about chipping a tooth, but it’s a fleeting thought. Chased out of his brain when Aether takes all of him at once.

Nose pressed into the soft curls at the base of Dew’s cock. Breathing steadily through his nose. Aether groans. Dew feels the vibrations in his bones. When Aether swallows, Dew can’t help but thrust up into his throat a little more. Aether chokes, just a little, just enough to make something traitorous in Dew’s stomach twist.

He wants to pull the car over. He wants to hold Aether’s head down and fuck his throat until tears spill down Aether’s face.

He almost does it when he glances over to see Aether humping the seat. To see him sneak his free hand into his pants so he can grope himself. Humping into his own palm. The sight makes Dew feel like he’s going insane. He wants free hands. He wants to slip his fingers around Aether’s throat and feel the bulge of his cock.

“Fucking gorgeous,” Dew breathes.

Aether pulls off with a gasp. A string of spit connecting his lips to Dew’s ruddy cock. “Watch the road, Dew.”

Dew would rather do anything but. But he does. Pulling his eyes away from Aether’s flushed cheeks and pleasure bright eyes.

“Gonna get you for this,” Dew breathes. Aether chuckles. Kissing the tip again, sloppy.

Aether’s only answer is a little hum before he descends again. Head bobbing in a slow indulgent rhythm. Dew grinds up into his mouth, matches his movements, falling into an easy rhythm that Dew feels like he could ride out forever.

Aether’s free hand dips a little lower. Pets his balls through the tight fabric of his jeans and Dew whimpers. Broken. Desperate. He tries to push his hips into Aether’s hand, and mouth at the same time. It doesn’t work.

”Take em out. Please,” Dew gasps. And Aether reaches into Dew’s pants and frees his balls. Dew groans in relief when he does. He glances down again, just to see Aether roll them in his hand. When he pulls off of Dew’s cock and ducks down to suck one into his mouth, Dew has to look away. He’ll blow right here and now if he has to watch Aether do this. He closes his eyes–just for a second he swears.

“Lucifer, Aether. Your fucking mouth.”

“You wanna cum in it?”

Dew nods. Head tipping back against the headrest. “Yeah. Make me.”

“I will,” Aether promises. Tongue flicking out over the sensitive underside, Dew tries and fails to control the full body twitch it causes.

“Fuck.”

“How much further?”

Dew glances at his phone, propped up on the dash, and the gps app running on it. “Forty five minutes. Make me cum in five and I’ll give you a hand job.”

Aether hums, thoughtful. Dew knows that sound though–it’s the one Aether makes when he made up his mind a long time ago. Dew’s stomach lurches.

“Aeth–”

“Shh, let me savor this. You don’t want me to get bored, do you?”

Dew groans, low and wrecked when Aether takes him all again. He slips one hand off the wheel to lace his fingers in Aether’s hair–just to feel him.

“No,” Dew agrees, voice tense. “Wouldn’t want that. Take your time.”

Aether does. It’s a long drive after all.

[mrs-gauche]

Let's talk about the Red Lyrium Idol

(…Because it's not like this thing has been discussed to death over the past ten years, right? 😂 *drops my two cents in the Scrooge McDuck money bin*)

Ah yes… The red lyrium idol. The one thing that's given me a headache since 2018, as I'm still trying to figure out how this damn thing could possibly fit into my bazillion tinfoil theories.

Whether it's the first official DA4 teaser in 2018, the Blue Wraith comic series or the entirety of the last chapter of Tevinter Nights, a lot of the supplementary media and promotional stuff setting up the course for DA4 seems to be centered around the idol. Quite literally, in some cases, like this mural from the first 2018 teaser:

It certainly led us to think that the idol won't just be another McGuffin (or so I hope lol), but other than that, it's still heavely shrouded in mystery…

Which is why I will now make an attempt to unravel this and gather every single bit of information we have on it (so far) and maybe that'll get us closer to some sort of answer in the end (actually, it won't, because this got SO long that I had to split this post in two parts lol No one's going to read all of this anyway 💀)!

Look, I just needed to get this behemoth of a post out before we might get an actual substantial trailer tomorrow and none of this will probably matter anymore. 😂💀

(Note: This whole thing was initially intended to be solely for myself to keep track of any information we've gotten about the idol since DA2. But since it's gotten SO long over the years, I figured why not just rewrite it into a somewhat coherent text and post it on here? :D ......Seriously, it's really, REALLY effing long.)

The Idol's Journey so far

To me, the idol always seemed to be something like "The One Ring" in LOTR. A forged ancient artifact with creepy unknown powers that is said to feel "alive", almost as if it possesses a will of its own, seeing as it has somehow found its way from countless random people, back to (presumably) its former owner. It also appears to be somewhat cursed, given that almost everyone who held it at one point seems to have died or gone mad by now (Yeah, I'm very worried about Varric and Hawke 👀).

Let us start with a quick summary of the journey the idol has made in the span of about 12-13 years (not counting the unknown timespan in which the last chapter of Tevinter Nights takes place):

First discovered by Hawke and Varric in an ancient Thaig in the Deep Roads.

Stolen by Bartrand, who then made a quick trip to Rivain.

Sold to Meredith, who turned it into a sword.

Taken out of Meredith's petrified corpse by Carta dwarves.

Sold again to a Tevinter mage, who brought it to House Qintara in Ventus.

Handed to a secret agent of Fen'Harel named Gaius (who was impersonating Magister Qintara).

Traded away to Tractus Danarius.

Handed to Magister Nenealeus at Castellum Tenebris to be used as part of a ritual.

Picked up by Cedric Marquette after the fortress fell, while trying to escape.

Handed back to Tractus Danarius, who then probably (not confirmed) went to Nevarra to perform another blood magic ritual.

Picked up by a Mortalitasi who (maybe) took it to Tevinter.

(Supposedly!) ended up in a vault under an auction house in Llomerryn in Rivain, where it was (supposedly!) retrieved by Solas.

That's quite the journey… that you wouldn't even know half about if you didn't read the comics or Tevinter Nights. But whereas the book and comics were all published after the first teaser trailer in 2018, after which the idol became the center of the fandom's attention and speculation, it should be noted that a connection to the idol was in fact already made way back in 2014, when people noticed that the image of Solas holding Flemeth's lifeless body at the end of Inquisition was very reminiscent of something else.

...Which brings us to the point of what the idol is even depicting to begin with.

Description

Before I'll start to give my own description based on the models in-game, the teaser and concept art, I'd like to quote the people who've actually seen it in person.

In the last chapter of Tevinter Nights, we are being told three tales by three different people, who all describe the same idol differently.

The Carta Assassin: "A couple hugging, too thin to be dwarves - but it's sitting there, glowing softly like a ruby lit by the grace of the Maker himself. […] It's heavier than you'd think - lyrium's heavier than you'd think, too, but this was heavy even for that. When I hefted it in my hand, it was like it wanted to keep moving, like it was liquid inside."

The Mortalitasi: "An idol crafted from red lyrium, which seemed to show two lovers, or a god mourning her sacrifice. It whispered in our minds when we saw it […]."

The Orlesian Bard/Solas: "He whispered something as he picked it up, tracing his gloved fingers gently along the crowned figure who comforted the other."

The one thing that all of these seem to have in common though is two figures who embrace each other in some way.

Which is interesting, because in all the depictions of the idol we've seen so far, it clearly shows three people instead of two. Granted, the third figure is a bit cramped up in the back of the crowned figure, but what's strange is that not even Solas himself mentions this third figure.

Most notable though is the crowned female looking figure in the center, which is holding onto the two other figures on each side of the ring shaped object (or it's the two figures holding onto the female?). The figures themselves look rather goulish, deadly or skeletal, with their bone structure clearly visible and all their expressions captured in a mix of horror or torment. The small carved-in lines coming from the middle figure's eye sockets also resemble black tears, much like we've seen on "The Mother" in Awakening.

There's also no sign of clothing, which is all the more apparent on the concept art of the idol, in which the breast of the middle figure is.. much more prominent. lol (We don't make fun of saggy boobs in this house, it's just nature and gravity after all, but for the sake of observation, I will note that they do remind me of Broodmother boobs, too 😂), aside from a hint of what could be a veil on the middle figure's head.

At the bottom of the idol, the lower bodies of the figures seem to fully submerge within its name-giving red lyrium and this "claw" type thing, which is coming off in the shape of crystalline red lyrium spikes at the tail end, though in the concept art and the DA2 model, these spikes were clearly more like red lyrium roots. But either way, the bottom makes it kinda look like it's been broken/ripped off?

We can also see tentacle like features, that remind me of the figures we've seen in the mural in the 2020 teaser and the depiction in the 25th anniversary book that revealed to us what the Archdemons were initially supposed to look like. 👀

I'd also like to point out that in the original concept art of the idol, the ears of the crowned figure look much more pointy to me than in later versions. 👀

There's also this "ring", that I've seen many people connect to how the Veil is often portrayed in Solas' murals.

But if this ring is supposed to depict the Veil, then what could it mean for the crowned figure reaching across to hold that ominous third figure on the "other side"?

And yes, I recognize that this ominous third figure also seems to be missing a left arm, just like another certain main character. 👀

The one thing that stands out the most though, is probably the crown itself. Most people might first associate it with Andraste, when the same shape can be traced as far back as ancient statues of Mythal.

Yeah, there's definitely a pattern here. 😂

That being said…

Connection to Mythal & Solas

Okay, we all know about the theory that Andraste might have been Mythal's previous host, right? We all know about the parallels between Mythal's story, Andraste, Flemeth, etc. And after comparing the idol to Flemeth and Meredith in their moment of death, considering all of the above/following and how old this thing potentially is, I will now make a wild guess here and argue that the idol is in fact depicting Mythal's death.

"He whispered something as he picked it up, tracing his gloved fingers gently along the crowned figure who comforted the other. But I could not make out the words, for I fear they were elven."

Not only does Solas seem to hold sentimental value for whoever the crowned figure is supposed to be, while also talking to it in elven, but the way he describes to "caress" the idol in Tevinter Nights does also seem to mirror how Flemythal was comforting him at the end of DAI.

However, I always thought it was a bit odd how Solas describes the idol as "a figure comforting another", when… tbh, "comforting" would probably be last thing that comes to my mind when I look at this...

"Agony" would be more fitting here, maybe? lol Kinda begs the question of how Mythal was murdered, too, with this being her expression in her moment of death? 👀

Without getting too much into it here, if there's one thing we can take from everything we've learned so far about their past, Solas' relationship with Mythal must've been a rather complicated one, to say the least.

"He did not want a body, but she asked him to come. He left a scar when he burned her off his face."

Solas calls Mythal "the best of the elven gods", calling her "the mother, protective and fierce", and Solas is even described in the designer's notes as "Mythal's oldest friend" who is all about free will, yet if the spirit origin theory is true and Cole's cryptic comments in Trespasser are in fact about them, it was Mythal who gave Solas a body against his will, potentially bound/enslaved him with her vallaslin, and maybe even forced him to act against his original purpose?

"You should have seen me when I was younger. Hot-blooded and cocky, always ready to fight."

Cole: "You didn't do it to be right. You did it to save them." Inquisitor: "Solas, what is Cole talking about?" Solas: "A mistake. One of many made by a much younger elf who was certain he knew everything."

How much of what happened was Solas acting out Mythal's will, or rather, acting out of vengeance and pain in reaction to Mythal's death? How much of it was him acting downright impulsive?

Solas: “Cole is a spirit. The death of the real Cole wounded him, perverted him from his purpose. To regain that part of himself, he must forgive.” Varric: “You don’t just forgive someone killing you.” Solas: “You don’t. A spirit can.”

Or was it Mythal's death itself that "wounded him and perverted him from his purpose", just like he described what happened to Cole?

And what does that say about Mythal then, when she clearly hasn't forgiven her murderers and still strives for vengeance after all this time? What if Solas' own perception of Mythal and all the circumstances surrounding her murder is warped because he was once bound to her? 👀

Anyway. To get back to topic.

So if we assume that the idol is in fact depicting Mythal's death, then that brings us to the next question of why the idol is even made of red lyrium? Or rather, what is Mythal's connection to red lyrium?

We know that red lyrium is tainted blood of a Titan. Mythal was the first to kill a Titan and mine their blood for things we won't get into in this post. So, how did the idol end up in the Deep Roads, anyway? How long had it been there? One thing that's kinda strange to me, is how the DA wiki page about the idol says that it was forged by the dwarves, solely based on the fact that it was initially found in the Deep Roads, when we have no actual evidence for that. We've seen statues of both Mythal and the Dread Wolf in the Deep Road section in Trespasser where the mining of lyrium was undergone, but we don't know if the dwarves even had any part in building them as well.

Would the dwarves forge an idol of the elven deity who conquered them and killed their Titan, if they were somehow forced to do so? We also have to remember that dwarves were and still are the only ones able to actually mine raw lyrium safely, but even the Carta dwarves in Tevinter Nights had to take several precautions in order to recover the red lyrium idol from Meredith's corpse. And even then, many of them still fell shaking or went mad in its presence like Bartrand.

So if it only takes that little exposure to have that much of an effect on someone's sanity, how were the ancient dwarves or anyone even able to create it in the first place? What if the idol was initially made of blue lyrium but was then somehow corrupted?

And if we take one moment to really think about what an idol actually is.

"An object representing extreme devotion and religious worship to a god."

While Solas doesn't think of any of the Evanuris as actual gods, he still seems to hold Mythal at such a high regard that he wouldn't even speak of her at a sacred place like the Temple of Mythal (whether or not that was because he just wanted to withhold any secret ancient knowledge). He's able to fully recite the invocation to Mythal if you bring him with you to her altar. He also looks exactly like the sentinels in Mythal's temple.

I could go on, but generally speaking, there are so many little hints pointing to Solas being a former slave/servant of Mythal that, again, we won't get into here, but it's important to mention when trying to figure out why the idol (presumably) even belongs to Solas.

"The idol's journey is now complete, and it has found its master."

In Tevinter Nights, the Dread Wolf claims that the red lyrium idol belongs to him. He also made sure to punish those who tried to misuse it, going so far as to march in with an entire army of spirits and snapping a guy's neck with his jaw. (Yup, you're better off not to touch the Dread Wolf's stuff for dirty blood rituals, kids.)

"You use my idol carelessly, and in doing so, you threaten all creation."

Additionally, in the last chapter of Tevinter Nights, Charter and other spies conclude that Solas must need the idol for whatever ritual he's planning, while Solas in Bard disguise claims that he's already in possession of the idol now and therefore, I quote, "cannot be stopped". (Though I personally still don't actually buy a single thing about his vivid tale at that auction house, but we'll get back to this later. lol)

And if the idol belongs to Solas, was he the one who created it, or did he order the dwarves or someone else to make it for him? But why would he intentionally make an idol out of red lyrium, anyway? He is fully aware of the dangers and corruption that comes with being exposed to red lyrium and its use. Especially considering that red lyrium is blighted and how he repeatedly expresses great concern over the Blights and gets furious over the Grey Wardens' attempts to preempt them by killing the Archdemons (because he obviously knows more than us).

So, does he know a way to use it without getting corrupted like everyone else? The Seekers of Truth are so far the only ones we've seen to be immune to red lyrium thanks to having their minds touched by a spirit of Faith during their vigil. Could Solas' connection to spirits/his hypothetical spirit origin allow him to use the idol without it effecting him?

But if any of this is true, then l'm again asking myself what even was the purpose of the idol to begin with? Why or when was it created? How does it differ from any other red lyrium, and what could Solas have used it for in the ancient past?

Powers & Effects

So, let's talk about what this thing can actually do (as far as we know).

(Btw, this is the part where I will shamelessly copy a lot straight from the DA wiki, because truth be told, I'm just a German struggling with limited vocabulary and I figured there's simply no way to summarize this any better than the wiki already has. 💀)

Just like any other red lyrium, we know that being exposed to the idol for too long will make you mad/paranoid/possessive/violent, while also grant you special powers, until overuse causes your body to be completely overtaken by red lyrium. It seems to thin the Veil wherever it is currently kept, allowing spirits or demons to interact with the physical world.

It also emanates a song that is slowly turning people who hear it insane.

The Song

"It sings… sick music." "It eats you inside until you're nothing." "It creeps into your thoughts, humming." "They hear a different song. The song behind the door old whispers want opened. They are dead and dark and done." "Songs screaming far away. It wants to wake up but can't remember how."

(- Cole's comments about red lyrium/red templars)

After Bartrand took the idol and left Varric and Hawke to die in the primeval Thaig, he started hearing voices, claiming the idol was "singing" to him. Even after selling it, Bartrand could still hear the idol and was eventually driven mad by its red lyrium.

Three years later, it is discovered that Bartrand had chipped a piece of the idol off and left it in his estate, which causes the house to behave like it was haunted and the Veil was torn.

Then during the "Haunted" quest, Varric himself remarks several times to hear music while walking through the estate, much like the Carta assassin in Tevinter Nights recalled to have heard "music in the wind, like some old song I heard as a kid but can't quite remember" when obtaining the idol from Meredith's corpse.

Important to mention here is that Varric seems to also be the only one in the party able to hear this song.

Varric: "Hey… is that music? Where is that coming from?" Hawke: "In don't hear anything." Varric: "Where is that singing coming from? You hear it, right, Hawke?" Varric: "Where is that voice coming from?" Hawke: "What voice?" Varric: "I can barely hear it… I wish I could make out the words."

Varric also told us that, after Bartrand went mad, he tortured his non-dwarven servants by cutting pieces off them to help them "hear the song".

(And remember, the idol was found in an ancient primeval Thaig in the Deep Roads, sitting on something like an altar, indicating that it was being worshiped by the ancient dwarves as well. Presumably because they too were being influenced by the idol's/red lyrium's song?)

Haunted

During the "Haunted" quest, we learn that the mere presence of a shard of the idol in the estate causes:

"Voices whispering in the walls"

Random objects moving on their own

Apparitions/screaming spirits appear running across the floors

When Varric picks up the piece of the idol, he starts to exhibit the same symptoms of madness Bartrand showed, at which point Hawke can either let Varric keep the piece, or can take it from him with the intent of having Sandal destroy it.

If Hawke asks Anders to diagnose Bartrand in Act 2, he suspects a demon at work, however Bartrand is a dwarf. Instead, he determines that "his mind has been poisoned by something powerful".

In Tevinter Nights, the Carta assassin recalls that, in the attempt to retrieve the idol from Meredith's corpse, most of his colleagues fell shaking and whispering the closer they got to it.

Meredith

After Bartrand sold the idol to Meredith, she reshapes it into her sword Certainty, which does eventually drive her insane as well. It also gives her unnatural powers, such as the ability to animate the statues in the Gallows, and even limited flight capabilities.

(My question is though, were the things happening in that final fight directly caused by the idol or was this just the result of the Veil being already weakened that much by the many terrible things that happened at that place/Kirkwall in general?)

Anyhow, during the final battle at the Gallows, Meredith overuses the lyrium sword, causing it to burst into dust and petrify her into a statue.

Though as we all know now, some part of Meredith seems to have survived somehow, as her… mind(?) or something was shown to now still "live" within the red lyrium somewhere in Kirkwall at the end of Absolution. She (or "it") also seems to have somewhat control over the red templars now, too.

So, how is this possible? What exactly is she now, if it even is herself and not just a manifestation/echo of her memories or something? Could it have something to do with the idol? No one really knows (and we might never find out, if Netflix won't give us a second season, anyway lol), but I do think it's curious how the idol is likely depicting Mythal's death, who didn't actually die either and lived on through the ages as a type of lingering "wisp" clinging to various hosts. 👀

I also want to point out how Solas did suspiciously include Meredith's petrified corpse in his mural in the 2020 teaser as well, placing her right under that ominous upside down figure with the tentacles.

Furthermore, just like Meredith, the idol also seems to be somewhat indestructable. lol After Meredith's sword burst into dust, it regrew inside her petrified corpse (which Solas was apparently also aware of). What's interesting is that it regenerated in Meredith's chest of all places. You know, like, where the heart is supposed to be? 👀

Then there's also this curious line from Anders, when talking about Varric acting strange after obtaining a shard of the idol:

"This thing's magic seems only more potent when broken."

I've mentioned it before, but with the spikes (or roots in DA2) at the bottom part of the idol making it look like it was ripped or broken off of something, you have to wonder if its current state is somewhat broken, even after regenerating.

"Hot-Blooded"

During the Haunted quest, Fenris will remark this:

"Whatever is here is angry."

In DAI, Cole repeatedly comments on how red lyrium feels "very angry" and how it is "less angry when it's cold". We know for a fact that red lyrium emanates a noticeable heat. A corrupted Bartrand is especially weak to cold/ice magic.

While anger is generally associated with heat, I find this aspect particularly interesting, given that red lyrium is tainted blood of a Titan.

And building on that, while still searching for further connections between red lyrium, the idol and Mythal… Remember how the ancient sarcophagus in the Blue Wraith and Dark Fortress comic was used in a ritual, in which lyrium combined with fire of a Great dragon carved lyrium infused markings into Fenris' and Shirallas' skin, granting them special powers.

Not only was this ancient sarcophagus specifically built only for elves, and its design resembling that of Mythal's statues…

…but here we have a case in which lyrium is purposefully "set on fire" by a Great dragon to create "elven super soldiers". Mythal is always depicted as a dragon. And she mined lyrium in humongous amounts.

Again, red lyrium emanates heat. If this was common practice in ancient times, then I feel like it's not surprising that a Titan would eventually be pretty damn angry in reaction to its blood being continuously burned for centuries [insert boiling blood joke here].

So, aside from the red lyrium being blighted, could there be a connection in Mythal burning the Titans' blood? As far as we know, it did take a couple of aeons in which Mythal (presumably) continued to mine (and burn?) the Titans' blood, before the ancient elves sealed the Deep Roads for good, because they discovered something… bad. As Solas himself declares in the vision described at the mural depicting a Titan's death:

"Let this place be forgotten. Let no one wake its anger." "The vision grows dark. An aeon seems to pass. Then the runes crackle, as if filled with an angry energy. A new vision appears: elves collapsing caverns, sealing the Deep Roads with stone and magic." "Terror, heart-pounding, ice-cold, as the last of the spells is cast."

And there it is again. That anger we're talking about. What's so interesting to me, is how this does sort of come full circle with Mythal and the idol after all, since the motivation behind Mythal's actions, even after thousands of years, remains her unwavering desire for vengeance upon the people who betrayed and murdered her, which, in a way, does mirror the same anger/heat that the Titan is emanating from its tainted blood.

And speaking of blood……

A Ritual Blade

In Tevinter Nights, we learned that the idol is able to produce a blade, which is then used as part of a blood magic ritual.

"The Tevinter mage was killing his slaves. […] He had cut the throat of one of them, and then another, catching the blood of his victims on the idol as he made his way around the circle. […] The Tevinter mage raised the idol before him, and I saw a spike of lyrium spring from the base of the idol, so that all at once, it was not merely an idol, but a ritual blade. He slashed his own hand, and a wave of power pulsed through the cavern. It was as though we were the blood, and the cavern was the body through which it flowed, and we fell, all of us, to the ground, our minds pulled into the raw chaos of the Fade by the power of his ritual."

In the end of the Dark Fortress comic, the idol produced another red lyrium sword, that could be fully detached and was then placed onto the before-mentioned sarcophagus, turning Shirallas into a raving beserker that was pretty much invincible as long as he was in possession of that same sword.

While the blue lyrium infused sword that was used in Fenris' ritual simply dissolved in the process, the sword produced by the idol could "regenerate" and was especially resistant to Great dragon fire.

"Unlike the lyrium-infused swords of the so-called Arcane warriors, this sword should survive the ritual."

In the final fight against him, Marquette comments on how Shirallas "feeds energy to the sword from the red lyrium in his veins" and how in turn "the sword heals his wounds".

So in both the comic and Tevinter Nights, the idol/the weapon produced from the idol seems to draw power specifically from the blood of its wielder. It makes me wonder if it was initially intended to be used this way, since we have to remember that it still presumably belongs to Solas, who claims to not practice blood magic, because it seems to make it more difficult to enter the Fade.

Which is ironic, given what the mage in Tevinter Nights did to disrupt the Fade, but also how the Magisters Sidereal used a massive blood ritual to enter the Fade physically.

And oddly enough, in your first conversation with Solas about blood magic, he makes this curious analogy with daggers as an example…

Inquisitor: Every time I've seen blood magic used, it has been for some evil purpose. Solas: I once saw a woman being stabbed in the stomach with a dagger. She died slowly, in angony. It was repulsive. If the Chantry outlawed daggers, would that stop the people from using it? Of course not. […]" Inquisitor: "You don't need to sacrifice a slave's life to make a dagger." Solas: "I suppose it depends upon the dagger."

So… Could Solas be referencing Mythal's death here? Or what if the dagger here is referring to the idol in its blade form? What the heck does he mean by "I suppose it depends upon the dagger"? Was a slave's life sacrificed to create the idol maybe?

But if blood magic wasn't the sole purpose for why it was made, then what else could the idol as a ritual blade be used for?

Which brings us to…

Dalish mythology

According to Dalish legends, Fen'Harel told the Creators and the Forgotten Ones that the Avvar had forged a "terrible weapon", a blade that would end the war between both clans of gods. He told the Creators that it was forged in the heavens, while the Forgotten Ones were told that it was hidden in the Abyss. And when the gods went seeking it, Fen'Harel sealed them both in their realms forever.

Okay. So, let's just assume for a second that the blade in this legend was actually the idol in its blade form. Because hell, what are the odds of having two "super powerful ancient blades that belong to Solas"? lol

If they are in fact the same weapon and the part about Solas tricking the gods is true, why were the Evanuris and the Forgotten Ones so eager to get this thing, to the point that they would fell into a trap?

And with this, I'd also like to point out the level design in the scene in which Flemeth takes Kieran's Old God soul in the Fade. I can't help but feel like the statue of Dirthamen being stabbed in the back with a sword, crying a stream of blood, resulting in a huge pool of blood, as well as a bloody ouroboros symbol on the ground, is a very deliberate design choice. Especially considering the context of this scene with the revelation about Flemeth and Mythal, I'd argue this is all in reference to how Mythal was betrayed and murdered.

Again, the idol could depict Mythal in her moment of death. In the final fresco in the rotunda, the one Solas never finished before leaving the Inquisition, we see a wolf looming over a dragon slain by a blade.

In the last visual of the 2022 cinematic that, going by Varric's narration, could potentially depict the destruction of the Veil, Solas appears to hold something that resembles a blade with a very destinct handle. Additionally, we've since discovered an icon hidden on the Steam page of DA4, that shows a dagger with an identical shape and the same glowy purple as the Dreadwolf title.

So we have the idol in its blade form, the blade Mythal was potentially slain with, the blade Solas is holding in the 2022 cinematic, Solas mentioning a dagger in relation to blood magic and Fen'Harel's blade in Dalish legends.

That's a lot of blades... and a lot of blood. lol

The Hunt of the Fell Wolf

"The Hunt of the Fell Wolf" is the title of a poem that can be found in the Jaws of Hakkon DLC. It tells a story of former Inquisitor Ameridan, his friend Haron and their fight against a demon wolf.

Along with numerous odd things in this tale that could be interpreted as some kind of metaphor (or just the devs messing with us, if you want to know more, please check out this post), it also mentions an "idol of fade-touched stone" in connection to the demon wolf.

The wounded knight in darkness Found within the cavern’s gloom An idol of fade-touched stone, Which could prove the monster’s doom.

In the poem, after a grim fight, the wolf takes Ameridan's friend Haron to its lair, a "labyrinth of winding cave" (which many believe is referring to the Deep Roads, just like the ancient Thaig in DA2 where Hawke and Varric found the red lyrium idol originally) where Haron, oddly enough, also happens to find an idol. What's intruiging though, is that this idol seems to be connected to the wolf in such a way that he can only be defeated if both him and the idol are destroyed and struck down at the same time.

With burning blade, Ameridan And monster met again Whilst elsewhere did Haron valiantly With demon-wards contend.

As demon-stone was shattered, Ameridan struck true: Beast and spirit—both felled at once, Though neither hunter knew.

"Beast and spirit—both felled at once"

Two entities that are connected across two different places… as in the physical body and the spirit maybe?

As in the waking world and the Fade?

So, let's reiterate.

The red lyrium idol belongs to the Dread Wolf. Cole remarks how he can feel that Solas is "in both places". The word "Dread Wolf" itself is an anagram for "World" and "Fade". We've talked about the popular spirit origin theory before, Solas taking a physical form against his will because of Mythal. The whole matter of Solas' "true name" before he called himself Pride. Solas' entire personal quest, which may or may not mirror his own past, a spirit of Wisdom being denied its original purpose, turning into a pride demon ("He wants to give wisdom not orders"). His strange remarks at the end of Cole's personal quest ("We cannot change our nature by wishing"). The fact that Solas makes Cole forget about his true identity, just like spirit!Cole does. The visual portrayal of Solas "consuming" Flemeth's powers at the end of DAI. The way in which Solas doesn't recognize anyone in the waking world as "people", but will vehemently debate you on why spirits should be considered people.

"But the People… They need me." (- Solas to Flemeth at the end of DAI) "Never again." (- Solas after burning the mages who were responsible for Wisdom's corruption) "From this moment, should you ever bind a spirit, your life is mine." (- the Dread Wolf's final warning to the mages in Tevinter Nights)

All of this considered, what could the poem in JOH imply for the connection between Solas and the Dread Wolf/the Dread Wolf and the idol?

"They made bodies from the Earth, and the Earth was afraid. It fought back, but they made it forget."

One theory assumes that the creation of the Veil lead to the separation of the ancient elves' bodies and their souls/spirits, assuming that before the creation of the Veil, the Evanuris somehow made bodies from the Titans/lyrium for spirits to manifest and then enslaved/bound them to their will by marking those bodies with their vallaslin.

But if that's true, then what happened to Solas when he created the Veil?

"He broke the dreams to stop the old dreams from waking. The wolf chews its leg off to escape the trap."

In all the murals, tarot cards and illustrations, the Dread Wolf and Solas are always depicted separately.

What really IS the Dread Wolf? And what is he to Solas?

"It was a beast unlike any I had ever seen. Lupine in appearance, but the size of a high dragon, with shaggy spiked hide and six burning eyes like a pride demon, and it came to us on wings of fire that resolved themselves into a horde of lesser demons."

From what little we know of the Dread Wolf himself, he only seems to exist within the Fade (that is to say, before the Veil, Solas was already depicted as a wolf, presumably even before his rebellion and before the Evanuris "bestowed" him with the title "Fen'Harel"). In the Mortalitasi's tale in Tevinter Nights, his army of spirits follows the mages back to the waking world, yet the Dread Wolf himself remains in the Fade. In one of the frescoes in the rotunda, Solas portrays the Black City surrounded by the six burning red eyes that resemble those of the Dread Wolf, almost like he's keeping watch over the eternal prison of those he banished. In the Tower tarot card, the Dread Wolf is ominously looming over Solas, almost like it's about to consume him, while in one of the Trespasser murals, it looks more like the Dread Wolf follows his lead. And then there's the DA4 2018 teaser mural, in which they're opposing each other, only seperated by the red lyrium idol in the center of the Veil.

If the red lyrium idol is connected to Solas like the idol in the poem is connected to the wolf, could this be part of the reason Solas is so desperate to find it? Does it possess some kind of spirit? Can the Dread Wolf only be defeated if the idol is destroyed at the same time, just like in the poem?

Where is it now?

So where's the damn thing now?

Well, in my opinion, there are two options.

Option 1) The bard's tale in Tevinter Nights was complete bullshit. lol

Despite Solas trying to convince us that he already obtained the idol in a vault some time ago under an auction house in Llomerryn, it's possible that, much like his whole charade in that chapter, this tale was also entirely fabricated. lol

To make it short, here is a list of arguments for why the "bard's tale" could've been a complete lie:

Solas attended this spy meeting specifically for information on the idol's whereabouts (because he doesn't actually know where it is currently?).

Everything until the last two pages was an act.

Both the Mortalitasi and the Carta Assassin point out several contradictions within his tale.

Upon hearing the other spies assuming that he needs the idol, it would just make sense that he would want them/Charter to believe that he’s now in possession of the idol and “cannot be stopped”, so that they would drop all effort to find it before him.

On the very last page of the book, there's a lists of bullet points of information when Charter is about to write down her report, and it does not explicitly say “He has the idol” but rather just what it looks like, which suggests that Charter didn’t buy his story either.

So if this was all lies, the last known location of the idol would therefore be the unknown person who took it when escaping from the Dread Wolf's spirit army in the Grand Necropolis in the tale of the Mortalitasi.

Meaning that Solas would therefore still be searching for it now. (Which would actually be kind of hilarious, considering how there's likely gonna be a ten year timeskip since DAI, so he would've been searching for the flippin thing for the better part of a decade now. 😂 We know from the end of the Blue Wraith comics that he had followed the idol's path via eluvian, but maybe he just lost track of it at some point? In fact, the last we heard from him, Solas was apparently busy pursuing some Venatori people to get another ancient artifact called the Crucious Stone in the The Missing comic, much like he prevented the Tevinter mage in Nevarra from using his idol. Solas after ten years of searching for the idol was probably like "Oh fuck it, I give up, on to McGuffin Nr 2 then". lmao)

In an interview with the comic writers Nunzio DeFilippis and Christina Weir, they talked about how in their initial draft of Dark Fortress, Solas actually *got* the idol(!!) from two of his agents by using the eluvian located at Nenealeus' place before BioWare stepped in and requested a change. 👀 That version would've explained how Solas was able to track the idol through the eluvian we see at the end. Their own interpretation was that Solas can only overlook a certain radius within the area of where another eluvian is located. Which would actually support the assumption that Solas might've lost track of the idol at some point after Nenealeus left the place… but that's just their interpretation and not official BioWare canon (yet), sooo…. Hm.

Option 2) Solas has the idol now.

So let's assume that the part about him obtaining the idol in Tevinter Nights was actually true and it's now in his possession.

Aside from this, the only thing that could speak for Solas already having the idol in the beginning of DA4, is once again the final visual in the 2022 cinematic.

If this cinematic is in fact playing at the beginning of the game as a general re-introduction to the lore and the last visual is depicting Solas in the middle of destroying the Veil using the idol, then.. well yeah, there it is, in his hand…. at least, for now. Making Solas succeed in the first 10 minutes, I guess? lol

……Unless!

See, a few years ago, I speculated about how the idol might actually be the perfect plot device/motivation for our new protagonist to get involved in the whole Solas deal without even knowing who he is.

Let's say the last visual in the 2022 cinematic is actually showing us a hypothetical scenario, and not something that has already happened/is currently happening. Like, Varric gives this expository narration explaining who Solas is and what might happen if we don't succeed in getting the idol. (Notice how Varric says "And we're the only ones who can stop him" at the end… Like there's still a chance to stop him before this actually happens.) We know from Tevinter Nights that Charter knows that Solas needs the idol for whatever ritual he's planning. And Charter obviously informed the Inquisition/Varric about this as well. So the next logical step for the Inquisition now would be to obtain the idol (whether or not the bard's tale in TN was true) to prevent this ritual at any cost, right?

The comic The Missing re-emphasized that Varric is now in charge of getting people that Solas doesn't know. And this might be where the new protagonist gets recruited by Varric (who is still a spymaster after all) and gets assigned the alias "Rook" for a heist mission to obtain the idol. (And after a very thorough observation of the DA4 reddit leaks from 2023… it looks like Rook might've actually succeeded in this potential quest?)

While we don't know when the stuff in the leaks actually takes place within DA4's storyline, I think it's safe to say that Rook will obtain the idol at some point in the story and that it will play a pivotal role, if the blurb on the Steam page for DA4 is to be believed. lol

As well as what could likely end up being the game's icon, found on the Steam page.

And again, remember how in the Hunt of the Fell Wolf poem, it seemed like Ameridan struck the wolf’s body in the waking world, while his friend Haron killed the spirit (inside the idol?) in the Fade. What could this imply for DA4 then, if we are applying the role of Ameridan, Haron and the wolf in this tale to the Inquisitor, Rook and Solas?? 👀 Is this how we can stop him? The Inquisitor confronts Solas in the waking world, while Rook has to destroy the idol/fight the Dread Wolf in the Fade?

Or could it just be a metaphor for the Inquisitor in DA4 keeping Solas occupied to distract him from Rook, while they can figure out another secret way to deal with him/how to get/destroy the idol?

See, the thing is, we have to remember that this is after all, a video game. lol Meaning that, if our protagonist gets to carry around a powerful ancient artifact/weapon, I would assume that this has to be somehow implemented in the gameplay as well. What we can take from the short footage of the 2023 reddit leak, is that Rook might carry the idol (if it really IS the same thing) while still fighting with their own main weapon in combat. So, what if the idol serves as more of a special power tool outside of combat, for example, like the anchor did in DAI, where it can only be used for special occasions? Let's say, the idol in its blade form can't be used in battle but is able to "split" the Veil or reality, like the anchor was able to open and close rifts? Or, if we assume that the idol is something like an ancient phylactery (which btw is my favorite theory and I will talk about in my second post), maybe it can be used as some kind of "tracking device"? Actually, I'm super curious to learn how Rook is even able to carry it like this in the first place, since we know what kind of effect it usually has on people. lol

~~~~~

Anyway, I'll make a hard cut here now and save the rest of this behemoth of a post for a second separate post (because I also just realized that tumblr doesn't let me add any more images 😂💀), so if any of you actually made it this far... thank you for being just as crazy as me about this and I will post the second part shortly after. lol ❤

[jewishvitya]

i’m not too knowledgeable of current israeli thoughts regarding this, but wanted to ask anyways - back last year, i remember seeing some israelis i knew vehemently refer to the attack on october 10 as a pogrom. wall street journal echoed that last year but i haven’t heard much about it since. is this a common sentiment held among israelis, regardless of their political beliefs? while i do not diminish the pains caused by hamas’s attack, i wonder if it will ever be officially recognized to the extreme of being a pogrom. just something lingering in my mind for whatever reason.

thank you for all you post, it’s been a wonderful resource for me and i’m sure many others. god bless!

Thank you so much!! I'm glad I can be helpful.

Yeah, Israelis regard October 7 as a pogrom, but almost more than that. There's a kind of 9/11-like thing forming around this, I don't know how to explain it.

On the morning of October 7, I was in range of the rockets, which is rare. Most don't reach as far as where I live. It was the first barrage of that scale that I experienced in this city, I was panicking. And the news of everything going on around Gaza was like nothing else we experienced. I told a friend I'm scared of what our retaliation will look like. I was terrified for the people of Gaza. I didn't imagine this, but I knew it would be bad.

The perception is that before the holocaust, pogroms were something almost inevitable we had to weather. Zionism was a movement before the holocaust, and antisemitic violence had a part in that. After the holocaust, it picked up in popularity, we said, "that's it, no more victimizing us without us fighting back. We'll have our own state with our own army and we'll never be defenseless again."

And in this context, I can tell you that October 7 is the most deaths in one attack that Jewish people experienced since the holocaust.

We do a lot of suppressing Palestinians. In response to the exploding busses on the second intifada, the wall around the West Bank was built and their movement was severely limited (I don't know how bad it was before the second intifada, I just know it got worse). In response to the attacks from Gaza on 2005, we took firm control of the borders there too. We essentially imprison them in fragments of their lands in order to hold them back from hurting us. And we hate our government, but we trust and almost idealize our military. Knowing our military is keeping them in check is how we feel safe.

On October 7, the illusion of safety and control we had was shattered. I heard several people I know talking about how nothing can be the same, something changed, something broke. Israelis feel restless and scared. Even some people I knew as leftists repeated the "but what else can we do? Hamas already said they'll repeat October 7, we can't let that happen."

So. Pogrom doesn't really cover it? It's almost its own thing. But also, yes, a pogrom.

[aibremlk]

Nothing.... just me thinking James Potter with BPD after the prank so fucking mad with Sirius like he never been so angry before. James always the happy person, the friend when you need advice or a shoulder to cry to, the friend who even if you're completely shit will cheer you up or crack a smile to your face, the platonic soulmate of Sirius Black never leaving his side and never getting mad at him, being so fucking mad and specifically to Sirius Black none has ever saw him like that before. Him having a fucking breakdown or an episode and everyone is so shook by it, but also not figuring out anything because it's "probably" just a big fight. James Potter threatening Snape that if he opens up his little fucking mouth is fucking dead. James Potter who has a fight the first few days with Sirius in public that the skittles happen to be around, and one second he's yelling at Sirius pretty bad, saying so many things he didn't actually mean while the next Crouch out of nowhere grabs him physically and takes him to an empty classroom to shut him up and calm him down because he's noticed Potter before. After so many hours listening to Regulus talking about him he picked up stuff, noticed the man and realized before anyone that Potter had BPD just like him. At first James is shook and gets way madder at Crouch but Crouch is not getting really mad and James gets confused. That day the talk for a long time. Crouch understood. They didn't talk after that for quite a long time but they knew they had eachothers back if some sort of episode happened again. Crouch paying close attention to the marauders because James understood him.

Don't get me wrong, James forgives Sirius sooner than later at the end and Remus keeps telling him that because he is still mad at him and hasn't forgiven him yet doesn't mean he and Pete can't hang out with him. But the first few days, not to say weeks, even if James is Sirius brother is more angry than he has ever been in his life -the only exception when Sirius came to the in Christmas after walburga almost killed him- and that's when some of his friends realize they never have seen James like that before.

Also thinking about how Remus after the prank starts to spend more time with the skittles to piss off Sirius and Regulus playing along to piss his brother off too and the rest just following. But at the end of the day the end up liking eachother a lot and end up becoming friends. Also that's when Remus realizes the little crush the younger Black has for his best friend. And because of Remus and how he's been doing James starts asking Regulus questions and following him around till he gets over heels for him and that how sunseeker started seeing eachother. Barty and James become instantly friends and none figures out how and why they get so defensive for eachother. Slowly Regulus realizing that James has a disorder and because of Barty he connects it.

That's it thank you.

(Sorry for my English idk if I make sense at some points I hope you get what I mean)

[fieldofdaisiies]

Modern AU. Azriel and Eris meet in an interesting place and find out they don't really get along so well. A little dispute erupts. If they only knew what years later their life would look like. for @azrisweek | azrisweek masterlist | read on ao3 | no warnings

Shadow‘s first hiss is directed at no one in particular, but at the same time probably at everyone else in the waiting room. She doesn’t like many people in general, and most definitely not vets, or strangers.

Her second hiss, though, is directly for the curious greyhound putting its snout against the bars of her little cage, sniffing loudly, staring inside with his big, brown eyes, his tail wiggling happily behind him.

Azriel frowns at the dog, pulling the box a little closer to him. Shadow hisses again, growling loudly, but the dog is unaffected. It rather seems to excite him, and he pushes forward again, his leash straining. 

“She doesn’t like that,” Azriel says matter-of-factly, hoping the dog’s owner can hear him. Not only does his little cat not like that, but he himself isn’t the biggest fan of dogs either.

“Sorry, he won’t cause your cat any harm, he is just very curious,” the red-haired man who is a little too handsome for Azriel’s liking, says in a polished voice. 

The man pulls on the leash, and his dog takes a tiny step back, but stretches his neck so far that he can still ogle the inside of the small transport box atop Azriel’s lap. 

Azriel frowns and Shadow hisses again, baring her teeth, but the dog stays absolutely unaffected about her displeasure. It seems like he wants to get to know her, and Azriel hates it.

“Can’t he be curious anywhere else?” he snaps.

“He is a young dog and he has never had an interaction with a cat before,” the man says in a calm voice. “You must understand his interest.” 

But I don’t, Azriel wants to say, but keeps calm. He only hugs the transport box a little tighter, glancing between the greyhound and its owner with scrunched brows. 

Eris once again pulls lightly on the leash and this time Ares really walks back to his owner, almost looking a little sad. Disappointed. Eris gently pats his head, then scratches behind his ears and the young hound begins to wiggle his tail again.

Azriel averts his gaze, his lips pursed. Chatter of the other people in the waiting room becomes louder, while the two men fall silent. 

>>>>>>>>>

A good ten minutes later, Eris can’t stand it any longer. He doesn’t like to have bad interactions with people, and he doesn’t like where their conversation ended.

“I am sorry that other animals bother you, but this is a vet,” Eris grumbles, not wanting to let the silence sit between them. It is uncomfortable, and at the same time the man with the dark brown hair and beautiful eyes sparks his interest. He has never seen a man so beautiful before, and somehow he finds himself getting interested in the mysterious dog owner.

Azriel’s gaze lifts, he is still glowering.. “I know that this is a vet.”

“Then you should know that your little princess in there isn’t the only animal here.”

“She is not a princess,” Azriel murmurs, placing a protective hand atop the box.

“You’re right,” Eris agrees. “She is a demon, hissing and growling inside her little cave.”

Azriel wants to tell the man that she is not a demon and that he should take it back, but he doesn’t want to cause a scene, so he only shakes his head, his nostrils flaring with annoyance.

“At least she isn’t a little truffle pig who has to sniff every little corner and nook and presses her snout into every—”

“Mr Marino and Shadow, room one, please,” the receptionist calls from behind her desk, gesturing towards the first room in the corridor. “Mr Vanserra and Ares, room two, the little guy needs to be weighed first.”

Eris rises and Ares presses against his leg, knowing there is no way back now and nervousness kicks in. Gone is the former curiosity, now replaced by fear. He doesn’t move. Not a single step and so all Eris can do is pick up the still young, but already quite large hound and carry him to the room. 

He hates the triumphant laugh that leaves the man—Mr Marino. He feels angry and holds a whimpering Ares close to his chest. “Good luck with your little demon,” he then quickly throws over his shoulder at the man almost having disappeared into room 1 and a mischievous grin splits his lips.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

“Shadow!” Azriel tries again, this time a little louder. “Shadow, it is getting dark.”

He has no idea where has once again run off to, but he really needs her to return soon. Or rather, now.

It is getting dark and he starts to worry that something will happen to her when she is out alone, at night, in the city.

It was silly to let her out, Azriel thinks. Sometimes it might really be easier to have a—

“Having trouble finding your little demon?” 

Oh, this polished, rich voice, Azriel thinks, I would remember it everywhere. He turns on the pavement with a frown on his face, then gives the man walking toward him a once-over. “Mr Vanserra,” he greets in a flat tone, his face unreadable, despite the attraction and annoyance brewing within him.

“Mr Marino,” the dog owner bows his head and stops, his greyhound sitting down beside him, well-behaved as Azriel expected. Of course, he would be a good boy…

“She is only out for a stroll,” Azriel answers tightly. “Which is actually none of your business.”

“You’re shouting around in front of my flat, so it actually is my business, Mr Marino.” The man lowers his hand, softly stroking over the head of his greyhound who starts to wiggle his tail in response, his big eyes turned upon Azriel, watching him intensely.

“Your flat!?” Azriel asks, giving the male across him an incredulous look.

He can’t believe it. That, out of all things, this has to happen. Mr Vanserra, this prick with his well-behaved animal is basically his neighbour? And he only finds out about it now?

“I‘m not shouting around, I‘m only looking for my cat,” Azriel answers tightly, glancing past the man in hopes to catch a glimpse of his little demon.

“So you admit that you’ve lost her.” A grin appears on the man’s lips.

“She is out for a stroll.”

“That’s why dogs are simply better, they can’t get lost. Ares here would never run away, he‘s a really good boy.” Mr Vanserra smiles proud, offering a little treat he pulls out of his pocket, to the greyhound. The dog seems to be absolutely excited, barking happily in response. Or thanks.

Azriel only huffs. “Just because he sticks to you like a post-it, doesn’t mean dogs are better. In my opinion, cats are still the better, and more amazing animals. I could actually write you a whole essay on why that is the case.” Now Azriel is the one to grin in triumph, but it falters quickly when the man opposite him hums lowly, a mischievous glint appearing in the russet of his eyes.

“Is that so, Mr Marino?” He raises a neatly trimmed brow and takes a step forward. “Let me suggest something then.”

Azriel’s throat bobs at the sudden closeness, his skin tightening the slightest bit. For a split second, his gaze drops to the other‘s lips, and his breath catches.

Why does he all of a sudden think about kissing Mr Vanserra? Maybe so he would shut up about how amazing dogs are?! Azriel ponders.

“Let‘s meet for dinner instead?” Eris steps into him, a sensual smile on his lips. His gaze drops to Azriel’s mouth before sliding back to his eyes, glowing in the light of the lampost. “And then you tell me your first name and all about how amazing cats are?”

>>>>>>>>>>> 

Azriel crosses the street and halts promptly. Or rather is stopped promptly. By a dog. More specifically, a greyhound, pushing up on his hind legs, trying to lick over Azriel’s face.

Azriel tries to stay calm and gentle, softly pushing the dog's paws away from him, but he is not successful as the dog manages to lick over his palms, coating them in his saliva.

The date with Eris (Azriel really hopes it was a date and not just a dinner between neighbours) was phenomenal. They talked for hours and despite favouring different pets, realised that they are more similar than they thought. They actually talked until the early morning hours and could have continued even then. It was strange, and ever since this dinner, Azriel can’t stop thinking about the feeling within his chest. 

Yes, he thinks, my heart is beating for Eris Vanserra, and that only after having had dinner with him one time. But he wishes they could do it again. And again. And many other things. But right now, he has other priorities.

Azriel tries to sidestep the dog again, but it is not possible as Ares starts to jump now, happy to see him again. During the dinner, the greyhound mostly slept on his feet, not wanting to move away from Azriel, and started to dramatically whimper when he was about to leave.

So Azriel knows he has to go about this differently. The dog loves him, and he would never want to hurt him, but he also really needs to go home now.

“Good boy,” Azriel says, grimacing slightly and trying to push past the dog. “Where is your owner?”

“Are you looking for me, Azriel?” Eris rounds the corner, a smug look on his face. “I didn’t expect to find you with Ares.” The slight smirk quickly turns into a bright grin.

“Eris,” Azriel says, dipping his chin and the dog licks over the whole length of his lower arm. Azriel grimaces and takes another step to the side, lifting his arms.

Eris must sense his discomfort, so he pats his thigh and says, “Ares, be a good boy, and come here.”

The dog follows but not without hesitation, heartbroken over having to let go of Azriel. 

A relieved sigh leaves Azriel, but the corners of Eris' lips drop. It seems as if he tries to push the sudden sadness away, fixing a smile on his face, but Azriel has already seen how he actually feels and wants to say something but doesn’t know what.

So he opts for the less awkward thing and walks past Eris and the dog who starts to sniff again, trying to reach Azriel with his snout. But Eris holds him between his legs, not allowing him to move any further away.

“I‘ll see you around,” Azriel says tightly, his own heart all of a sudden hurting the slightest bit.. He looks back at Eris who is still looking at him, watching him leave.

“Hopefully soon.” A sad smile appears on the man‘s face and Azriel wants a hole in the ground to open that will swallow him wholly. He wants to stay, wipe the sadness, that he isn’t quite sure where it came from, from Eris’ face. But he also doesn’t know what to say more, how to make the situation less awkward, and so leaving is the most logical option.

But also the option that somehow hurts him. Hurts him a lot.

>>>>>>>>

Just like the previous three days, this one wasn’t any better. Azriel has been thinking about Eris nonstop, wanting to see him again, wanting them to go on a date again and wanting to apologise for being so weirdly around his hound. He is not scared, but apprehensive.

This day is actually worse. It has been six hours now that Shadow hasn’t come home and even calling for her turned up to be unsuccessful. So Azriel is sitting on needles, waiting for her to come home, his balcony door wide open.

Not even his home work-out helped, his body is sticky with sweat now, his shirt somewhere discarded, but he can’t go showering now. Not when she might come home exactly when he is in the shower and can’t greet her.

Azriel lets his head hang between his legs, sitting on the couch. He closes his eyes, trying to listen to any sounds coming from the outside, hoping to hear her.

But it is silent apart from a few cars — it is already dark outside, so less people are in the streets.

Azriel exhales a long sigh, and when he rises to grab himself something to drink, his phone rings.

Eris Vanserra is written on the screen and immediately his heartbeat picks up in speed. Despite his worry about his cat, Azriel reaches for his phone. Maybe the man can distract him. 

“Azriel,” he answers after picking up.

“Your little demon is sleeping on my couch.“

Azriel is out the door within seconds, quickly putting on some slippers and a hoodie and then starts to run across the street to Eris‘ place who is already waiting for him with an open door. He can’t quite believe what the man told him, so he needs to see it with his own eyes. Shadow is sleeping on Eris’ couch? That sounds like it comes straight from a movie.

“Shadow is here?” Azriel asks happily, almost lunging at Eris and hugging him tightly. He is completely out of breath, but joy drowns out his exhaustion.

His little baby is fine and his world all of a sudden is very alright.

“Sleeping on my couch,“ Eris answers with a tight smile. “I told you she is a little demon. I was working in my office, leaving the balcony door open and forgot about it, only to return there hours later and find the little black floof ball on my couch.”

Azriel can‘t avoid it, he chortles loudly. Eris allows him to step inside, and together they walk to the living room, the balcony door now closed, Shadow still happily napping, just like Ares on the carpet next to her.

“Thank you. I really thought something happened to her.” Azriel blows out a long breath, the smile not fading from his lips.

But Eris shakes his head. “Nothing to thank me for. I didn’t find her, she rather found me.” He laughs, and Azriel’s cheeks gain a bit of colour. He loves the sound of Eris‘ voice, but when he laughs, his knees always feel a little wobbly and his heart starts to beat faster.

Azriel moves a little closer to Eris, fidgeting with his fingers, his cheeks warming even more and his throat feeling a little dry all of a sudden. “I also wanted to apologise, so this is actually a good opportunity.” 

“What for?” Eris queries and raises a brow. It is clear he doesn’t understand what Azriel is aiming at. He lets his hands fall to his sides, suddenly feeling compassion when he notices how Azriel’s shoulders sag and how uncertain he all of a sudden appears.

“For behaving so weirdly around your dog.”

“There’s no shame in being scared of dogs,” Eris responds in a kind tone. A little smile appears on his lips.

But Azriel shakes his head. “It is silly, especially when he is such a good dog and so well behaved.”

“It is always good to be careful around dogs you don’t know, Azriel. I think it is very smart, you shouldn’t blindly trust a dog.” Eris takes a step closer to the man opposite him. “It takes time to trust a dog, and to earn their trust and allow them into your personal space.”

“You seemed sad though. Last time when I tried to get him off me.”

“I was sad that you hurried away. I wanted to…keep you there for a little longer so we could talk for a little longer because it felt so right last time,, but you were in such a rush.” Eris sighs.

Azriel’s eyes widen in slight surprise, his shoulders lifting the slightest bit. “Oh,” he breathes.

His heart starts to happily sing within his chest because Eris actually wants to spend more time with him. He will get over his slight fear of dogs for the man, Azriel knows this at that moment. Because he likes the man, and is more than attracted to him, and he won’t waste this because he isn’t too fond of dogs. 

For a small moment, both men only smile at each other, surrounded by silence and the soft snores of Ares. 

“Well, since you are here now, and they seem to get along just fine—” Eris steps into Azriel, his hand tentatively falling to the other man‘s hand, their mouths only inches apart. “I will just ask you now: would you like to go on another date with me.”

Azriel‘s grin is enough of an answer.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

“Good morning,” Eris hums, his voice raspy, his lips pressed against the soft skin of Azriel’s neck. 

The man stirs awake, a lazy smile spreading over his face. “My legs are numb,” Azriel mumbles, his voice equally hoarse and making goosebumps appear on Eris’ skin. He laughs, the noise a little muffled against Azriel’s skin and embraces his boyfriend a little tighter.

Since moving in together, Ares hasn’t spent a night not sleeping on Azriel. Just like Shadow, who fell in love with Eris and since her first night in the new place has been sleeping on Eris‘ pillow, above his head.

“How things change, huh?” Eris says, fingers drawing idle circles around Azriel’s belly button. “Who would have thought we would end up like this.”

“Not me,” Azriel chuckles, wanting to turn in his boyfriend’s hold to kiss him but is quickly stopped by the heavy weight atop his legs.

“I‘m only worried that Ares will one day love you more than me.”

A snort leaves Azriel. “I‘m worried you‘ll soon love Shadow more than me.”

“We have a special connection,” Eris muses with a grin on his lips.

“Yes, the mean energy connects you.” Azriel starts to chuckle but yelps when Eris pinches his butt. 

“I‘m not mean,” he grumbles. “Unless you want me to, shall I remind you of last night, when you begged me to be oh so very mean to you, my love.” This time he doesn’t pinch his boyfriend’s butt, but softly smacks it.

Azriel feels his cheeks flush and warm and throws Eris a look over his shoulder, still unable to move. Mischief sparks in the amber of his boyfriend’s eyes, glowing softly in the early morning sunlight trickling in through the blinds.

“You can’t tell me I‘m wrong, baby.” Leaning in, Eris kisses Azriel’s lips and then descends upon his jaw to his ear, licking over it softly. “Your pretty little moans and groans gave you away.“ He nips at his earlobe and then places a trail of kisses down his neck to his shoulder. 

Azriel groans deeply and this is when Shadow stirs awake, reaching out her paw to place it on Eris‘ shoulder and when she yawns her tiny claws ever so slightly sink into his skin.

In a less sensual and rather playful tone, Eris says, “I assume we are staying in bed all day, as neither of them seems too eager to get up.” His laughter makes his chest vibrate against Azriel’s back.

“Staying in bed all day with you three doesn’t sound too bad.” He smiles to himself and closes his eyes, relishing in the warmth of his boyfriend and the dog lying on his legs, and the sound of Shadow‘s soft purs.

general Azris tag list (please let me know if you want to be added/removed): @azrielsbabyg @lady-riel @moonlightazriel @aayo-whatt @brekkershadowsinger @ladyelain @banasheefan56 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @ofduskanddreams @acourtofladydeath @secret-third-thing @born-to-riot @chunkypossum @talibunny30 @berryzxx @lilah-asteria

[fatedbutblinking]

meeting the parents. jason grace x eros daughter

jason and eros' only half-blood daughter are in love

everyone knew that about them but they refused to admit that it was true to everyone, each other and themselves

then they 'accidentally' sleep with each other one night

despite trying to be the perfect and detached leader, jason can't help but confess first

not only is she the most beautiful girl that he has ever seen, but she pushes him to be the best version of himself. she's caring but biting. she's excited him since the day he met her. and she is really good in bed so

and she thinks his arms are sexy

then comes parent day, one day a year where all the gods are forced to spend the full day on earth with their children

as the only daughter of eros and with jason being one of zeus' only children, zeus and eros decide to take them out for a nice meal

zeus and eros aren't keen on each other, because eros keeps trying to shoot arrows at him and human ladies to piss off zeus' wife hera

soo it's a bit awkward

'i can't believe you're in love with a boy who looks like he should be on a cereal box.'

jason almost spits out his water.

'dad,' she hisses.

'it's like dating peter pan on steroids.'

'nice,' jason jokes.

'don't push it, eros,' she hisses again.

'they're barely dating. of course my son is going to be drawn to a barbie doll.'

'don't talk about her like that,' jason says sternly.

'it's not bad to admit that. she's shiny. it's a good break for you, son.'

jason shakes his head. 'you're such a --'

eros ignores what zeus says and continues to her. 'i know you're in love with him. i can feel how much you do, trust me, and i know he loves you more -- obviously -- but you should still keep your options open.'

zeus puffs his chest. 'of course you're encouraging disloyalty, eros.'

'you're not exactly a saint, zeusy.'

'and whose fault is that?'

'the arrows don't force you to fall in love. they only make you do what you otherwise would if logic wasn't in the picture.'

'i'm already tired of being here.'

'then you shouldn't have made the plan.'

'i had to. you would have taken them to a brothel otherwise.'

'fuck off.'

and so zeus and eros argue

jason and her look at each other. she grasps his hand.

'i'm sorry.'

'no, i'm sorry. your hair is very shiny, but i love you for a lot more than that.'

'really now?' she teases.

'yeah. i like your face, your body, your lips...'

'very funny, grace.'

'i'm more than my looks as well, you know.'

'i don't know. i think he's right about you looking like peter pan. the buffer, sexier, more stupid version.'

'ha-ha-ha.'

'i am sorry, jase. you'd think my dad being the god of love and affection would mean he'd be nice.'

'don't be sorry. they're gods. they're always going to think they're right.'

'but they're our fathers.'

'even more reason for them to think they're right.'

'i love you.'

'i love you more. your dad's not wrong about that part.'

suddenly they notice it is really quiet around them. both zeus and eros are staring at them, having listened to part of their conversation. they seem to be a little bit shocked, but regain their composure quickly. eros ends up smirking, folding his arms on his chest and leaning back as he stares at them. zeus watches them with curiosity, eating an olive.

'what?' he asks. 'what is it?'

'have you two picked what you want to eat?' zeus asks, motioning to the menu.

'i thought you guys wanted to leave,' she says.

'it just happens that you're obsessed with each other,' cupid explains. 'i should at least try to find out why.'

zeus nods. that's the first time that they agree with each other. both of their heads dart towards the menu as they bicker over what food they're going to get.

jason smiles softly and holds her hand. she is a bit in shock now.

'guess we're hard to deny,' he says.

'we? i'm the shiny one,' she jokes, squeezing his hand back.

[thedesireds]

— [ IDR ] —

• roman reigns x black fem reader

summary: after two years of separation, a drunk phone call brings an unexpected reunion.

warnings: mentions of alcohol, slightly vulgar language but that’s pretty much it.

word count // 2.5k

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Acrylic nails mindlessly stirred the deep amber liquid in front of her. She would’ve opted for something lighter, but the aching in her chest begged to be pacified. Shoulders brushed against her in the confined space. The vibrations from the speakers that traveled from the wooden floor throughout her body was her oxygen; the only thing keeping the monstrous cage around her heart from caving in.

She exhaled deeply before closing her eyes. The burning sedated the dull pain, finally giving her what she longed for. Relief. Though the days would pass and her heart would yearn once again. Inebriation soon overwhelmed her, and whilst her mind was almost gone, her body governed her with ease. Legs carried her outside of the bar and around the rust brick building. Fingers fumbled around a purse for a few seconds before pulling out a slim rectangular electronic, the lit screen anticipating the truth that sat on her heart.

“There are countless things that are wrong with me. I’m flawed and fragile. Why would you want a glass case as a fiance? As your wife?”

The impulsive phrase magnified their romance into a blooming estrangement, condemning her to almost two years of seclusion. Her chestnut irises rapidly moved across the device, searching for the one name that could do more than just temporarily pick up the pieces.

Roman.

Her eyes lingered on his contact photo for a few seconds. She kept everything; pictures, voice messages, brief notes that he’d written on random loose sheets of paper succeeding their most intimate moments. When they first met she didn’t take him as romantic. They had not-so-subtly been surprised with a blind double date after Naomi suggested she join her and Jimmy out skating.

━━━━━ ━━━━━ ━━━━━

She walked into the building fully believing that it was another night out with her favorite couple. She’d roll around for a while; then go head to head with Jimmy in air hockey at the small arcade on the side of the rink while Naomi cheered her on. Jimmy would pout and joke that she loved her more than him. The Rink was their old stomping grounds. She and Naomi would go every weekend during their school years. Beating him was second nature. After their 3 round game, she took a seat at one of the benches near the lockers; switching out her sneakers for crisp white skates. Her fingers separated the lace before grabbing the skate and slipping it on. As she got ready to head back on the floor, she overheard a rich, baritone voice engaging with the underpaid worker at the counter, causing her to look up.

“Um, I don’t think we have a size 15, but I can take a look. Give me a second.” The lanky teenage boy disappeared from the counter while the mildly annoyed-looking man rubbed his beard in frustration. She watched his jaw clench, slightly shaking his head. His large hands barely fit in his pocket as he pulled out his phone. Her eyes scanned his side profile. Handsome was an understatement. She didn’t need to see his full face to know that, yet he must have felt her stare. His eyes immediately locked with hers and she got to see the entirety of his herculean features. A small smile replaced the frown that was there seconds before. His once furrowed brows softened, lips parting as if he took in a deep breath. She held her gaze while a smirk graced her face. Eye contact only breaking when she noticed the worker coming back to the front empty handed. Not wanting to be on the other side of his, presumably, growing irritation, she finished tying her skates and stood up. A quick glance was shot over her shoulder, leaving the alluring stranger to his dilemma.

An 808 bass guided resin wheels along maple floors. Strobe lights danced in her eyes and euphoria pulsated through her veins. After a few more songs, she finally decided to join her abandoned party of two. Naomi and Jimmy were sitting on the benches on the opposing side of the rink, his arms wrapped around her while they laughed. She found it adorable, just as much as when the couple first met. They were the perfect match, and they never made her feel like a third-wheel on their outings. So she could only imagine how crazy her face looked as she walked back to their bench, finding the new addition to their party leaning against the wall to the left of Naomi.

‘Who the fuck is h-’ her eyes squinted ever so slightly before widening. Realization and confusion tangoed in her mind while the three finally noticed her heading their way.

“This is my cousin, Roman.” Jimmy interrupted her unfinished thought, standing up and patting his cousin’s back before walking a few steps next to his wife. She was sure her facial expression said enough. Naomi looked at her with raised brows and pursed lips, holding back a laugh. The man outstretched his hand, a playful gleam in his eyes as he watched her. Chills ran down her spine as she hesitantly shook it and introduced herself. He towered over her, the top of her head barely reached the base of his neck. Blackcurrant and ambergris cologne encompassed her. Being so close to him felt magnetic. A hardened glare was thrown Naomi and Jimmy’s way; they met it with two awkward smiles and a thumbs up on Jimmy’s end.

“I apologize for interrupting.” Roman cleared his throat. “I’m visiting for the weekend and my cousin invited me out skating with him.” A tight lipped smile graced his face, letting her know that he, too, had fallen victim to the couple’s antics.

“Seems like those two have quite the sense of humor, huh? Naomi said the same thing to me.” A sarcastic laugh escaped her lips as she looked up at him, her eyes finally meeting his. “You should’ve known it was a set up.”

He tilted his head slightly to the side. “And why is that?” His brows furrowed in the same way she had seen earlier, slight wrinkles sat above the bridge of his nose.

Her lips formed into another smirk. “How many skating rinks do you know that actually carry a size 15.”

Roman let out a laugh and captured his bottom lip between his pearly whites, a small dimple forming in his cheek. A genuine smile spread across his face as he shook his head, causing her heart to flutter.

“Believe it or not, I’ve never been here before.” He rebutted.

Her brows raised. “Damn, you don’t visit your own cousin?”

“Oh you got jokes, huh.”

“Jimmy really dropped the ball by not telling you that I’m a comedian.” she quipped.

The rest of the night was full of playful banter between the couples. An old school evening of ‘girls versus boys’ transitioned to the Fatu’s home, where the drinks flowed and old college stories left her jumping across the coffee table to cover Naomi’s mouth. Roman and Jimmy reminisced on their youth, from wrestling in the backyard to finally making it to the mainstage together with Jimmy’s twin, Jey.

The liquor’s lethargic aftermath seemed to hit the group simultaneously. Naomi’s legs were stretched across Jimmy’s lap, his hand rested on her thigh as she nestled against him. She caught herself watching them, perhaps a bit too long. It was then she noticed Roman’s arm around her, his thumb tracing small circles on her shoulder. She let her eyes drift close, embracing the newfound comfort of her unanticipated future.

━━━━━ ━━━━━ ━━━━━

If only she had known the consequences of her insecurities then. He was so good. Not just for her, but overall. Selfless. Understanding. Patient. Though she pushed the latter to exhaustion.

‘Two years couldn’t have been that long.’ She thought, knowing that each month was its own eternity. Her fingers trembled slightly as they hovered over blue digits. Apprehension started to peek through the logical side of her brain, longing fought to steer her in the opposite direction.

Push and pull. Angel and Devil.

Lucifer convinced the cognac to play puppet master, and ringing soon flooded her ears.

Once.

Twice.

A few more times.

Then she hung up. Heart sinking to the pit of her stomach. The line between relief and heartache blurred. She pressed the small button on the side of her phone, locking it before opening her purse again. Her chest tightened and a lump formed in her throat as she fought to hold back her tears. Embarrassed. Pathetic. Of course he didn’t answer. He probably changed his number ages ago. Why would he leave that door open?

Ring.

She froze. Her eyes met the big brown ones that appeared on her lockscreen. The phone vibrations traveled to her core.

He was calling back.

She took a moment before pressing the green button.

“Hello?” The octave of her voice barely above a whisper. A long pause followed, she braced herself. There was a brief moment of shuffling before Roman decided to speak.

“Why now?” He answered, voice deep and groggy. Nostalgia engulfed her. She missed him. Her phone moved from her ear and she looked at the screen.

2:47 A.M.

“I didn’t… realize how late it was...I’m sorry.” Her sentence dragged on longer than she intended. Shit.

“You’re drunk.” His tone was austere.

She hoped it hadn’t been too obvious, but Roman wasn’t fooled. “I might’ve had a drink or two. I just-”Her breath hitched. “I know..I know I fucked up.” Lucifer transformed from puppet master to a full on ventriloquist. A prolonged sigh followed by a slightly muffled ‘Fuck’ came from the opposite end of the phone.

“Where are you?”

“What?”

And for the first time in two years, her name left his lips.

“Where are you.” He demanded this time. Growing impatient with her lack of response.

She could hear him fully up and moving around. Keys jingled in the background, followed by a closed door and heavy footsteps. Those damn size 15’s . The Angel and Devil waged another internal war. She could apologize for disturbing him so late, hang up the phone and never bother him again. Leave him, again. Or she could get left to her own devices. Allow herself to come face to face with the past that she destroyed. With the man that she never stopped loving.

A cranked engine pulled her out of her thoughts.

“I’m in LaBelle.”

━━━━━ ━━━━━ ━━━━━

Another double shot of cognac found its way into her tremulous hand as she waited for Roman to arrive. Her body cemented in disbelief. He was on his way there. To her. She tried to prepare herself, playing out multiple scenarios in her head, but she was too far gone. Intoxication hijacked what was left of her partly sober mind. Her legs barely held her up as she sat on the barstool, turning to watch the sea of drunken people congregated together.

Then she saw him.

His jet black hair was tossed carelessly into a ponytail, much longer than when she last saw him. His height gave him an advantage over the crowd as he maneuvered through them, spotting her with ease. A full frown spread across his face, clearly irritated being around loud music and sweaty bodies at this time of night. Dark brows, complimented by wrinkles etched deep on his forehead, contrasted against his skin. She couldn’t read him. His eyes were empty as he looked at her, nodding his head towards the entrance. Wordlessly informing her that it was time to leave.

Not wanting to make the night difficult, she attempted to make her exit. Her head spun and heavy eyelids obstructed her vision. Roman followed not too far behind her. As they made their way outside, she stumbled, catching herself on the door frame. A long tattooed arm peeked into her peripheral vision. She shook the thought of him catching her out of her head. He had yet to say two words to her. She tried to regain her focus, eyes scanning the street for the familiar midnight black sedan.

“This way.” His voice came from behind her.

She turned her head to see him walking towards a black SUV. The headlights flashed as he unlocked the doors from the key fob. He opened the door for her, surprising her more than it should have. Roman was always a gentleman. She struggled to lift herself into the seat, limbs weak. Her legs swung into the vehicle and she let her head rest against the seat.

Roman watched her closely as she got in the car, closing the door behind her before making his way to the driver’s side. He followed suit, shutting his own door before looking over at her. Her eyes were closed, possibly in an attempt to sober up. The small button on the right side of the wheel lit up as he stepped on the brake, pushing it to start the car.

The silence during the car ride was overwhelming. Roman pulled the car in her driveway before shifting the gear to park. No one moved to speak first. Her eyes finally opened, head turning to look at him. He remained stoic. Face completely blank though his side profile was still nothing less than stunning. With liquid courage still lingering in her veins, her mouth opened to speak. “Ro-”

“Why now.” His voice reverberated off the black leather seats.

Her body tensed, finally understanding what he meant. . Emotions hit her simultaneously. Remorse. Love. Regret. Like that pivotal night years ago, it was, once again, all too much.

“I can’t right now Roman.” She slurred.

“Oh now you can’t talk? But your drunk ass can call me at 2:30 in the morning after not saying nothin’ for two years?” The betrayal of his true feelings finally spilled out of him. She watched his grip around the wheel tighten.

“I called you for weeks after you walked out and you never called me back. Hell, Naomi tried to talk to you about it in person and you dismissed her too. You completely erased me out of your life, and for what?” he continued. His voice carried as he turned to face her.

Tears welled in her eyes, a knife piercing through her chest. “I never erased you.” She swallowed back the taste of bile; not knowing if it was from her drunkenness alone or fear of it speaking for her

“You left.” The slight crack in his voice almost went unnoticed.

‘I had to.’ She thought. The words lodged in her throat fought to escape and her insobriety wielded the key.

“I know I made a lot of mistakes Ro, but I love you-”

“Man is this a joke? You love me?” His bewildered eyes stared at her in disbelief. “You don’t get to say that, not after all this time. You don’t just walk out on someone you love. You don’t- you don’t abandon them for two years after they get down on one knee and tell you that you’re the person they want to spend forever with.”

“Then why’d you answer my call?” She challenged. “Why, after all this time, haven’t you moved on with your life?”

“Because when I said those words to you, I meant it. I never stopped caring about your wellbeing. I’ll always make sure you’re good.” He let out a heavy sigh, looking down.

“I’m just not in love with you anymore.”

There it went; the cage around her heart.

Shattering.

Piece by piece.

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a/n: whew YALL. this took forever and a day to post. adulting been whooping my ass but fuck it we ball!

it’s a bit of in abrupt end ik but let me know what yall think! feedback is always appreciated!

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

[tuninghearts]

Hangover greets him with an uncontrollable migraine. He leaves his room, only to find Lucifer on the floor, and decides to take care of them both before they leave for their usual hotelier duties.

Radioapple Week - Day 5

Prompt: Domestic/Demon

Morning strikes him with a gold blade.

He finds himself on his bed, sprawled out like an unkempt blanket—legs tipped over the bed and draping down the sides like bunched up curtains, frizzy hair lightly grazing the pillow, one out of many that were scattered across the room. His suit was wrecked with wrinkles and dried alcohol. Throbbing was felt in his head,radio dials flickering in his eyes.

The hangover caused him to get tangled in a thousand problems, ranging from his uncontrollable state to his arms and legs, chained with tiredness and an aching desire to lull back into slumber. However, the day is pulling him awake, for he knows that he has a hotel to run, and delaying what he needs to do is not punctual.

He forces himself upright, wishing he hadn’t spent such a long night with Lucifer, drinking alcohol as if they would never live to see tomorrow, but deep down he knew that he’d do it again, on another night, to drink to their heart’s desires and suffer the consequences tomorrow.

Green aura protruded from him, he knew that he needed to find some water, for the after-effects were starting to tug him until he would snap. He walked out of the room, but was met with what he never could expect.

Lucifer, passed out on the floor—he would’ve mistaken him for lifeless if he didn’t see his chest rising and falling in almost untraceable motions. With his clothes as messy as Alastor’s, he knew that he must have had too much to drink as well. With whatever strength he could gather, he picks Lucifer up and puts him in his bed, and that’s when an eye cracks open, one of the signs of life.

“Alastor?” Lucifer asks. “What are you doing? And why—”

“Hush,” Alastor spits at him. It’s clear to him that he couldn’t stay longer near Lucifer unless what happened the day after their first drinking session would occur again, and he could not bear to have that heartache, not when he is in the wrong mindset, not when he is fighting to keep himself together and not fall apart in a grand spectacle of unseen chaos.

“Jeez, you’re always so irritated after a drink,” he groaned, as he was thrown onto the bed.

“I’m getting water, wait here,” he instructed, before he twists the doorknob, freezing cold underneath his fingertips.

Lucifer grumbles a little bit, but Alastor doesn't pay any attention to them as the door closes behind him, as he melts into a black shadow and makes his way to the lobby.

~

“Alastor,” Charlie smiles when Alastor appears from the murky mess of his shadow. “Husk went out to get more alcohol, could you help clean up the bar while he’s gone? It would be really nice of you to do so.”

“What happened to Niffty?” Alastor asks, as his eye was infested with itchiness and blurriness. A finger was placed on his eyelid, rubbing quite harshly.

“Are… you okay? You sound and look dead, and demonic.”

“Yeah, I had a little too much to drink, that’s all.”

“Oh, then I shouldn’t be telling you to clean up. You should rest.”

“No, no, don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I need a sip of water.” Alastor chuckles, before he moves to the back of the bar. For being an area in the hotel that serves alcohol, there was some water stored in the back, in an untouched metal jug. He pulls out two glasses and pours water into them, slightly shaking, for his hands were too weak to handle such a weight that the water in the kettle posed to him.

“Why are you taking two glasses?” Charlie asks, as she approaches the bar.

“Oh,” Alastor stumbles on his words. Typically, he’d be wonderful at deceiving people into walking on the wrong path, but in his current state, sentences tie together into a knot, and he can’t seem to ever be able to dismantle them. Radio static was firing everywhere, distorting his voice more than it should, the radio dials in his eyes flickering in all directions. “In case I need another glass and don't want to come back down to get one,” he smiles, crooked with terrible embarrassment.

Charlie glares at him, trying to find the truth, before she shrugs it off. “Okay. Tell my dad I want to see him while you’re heading back to your room.”

Alastor nods, before he melts again into a black shadow to transport himself back to his room.

~

Lucifer shouts and pushes himself back when Alastor appears in front of the bed, knocking his head into the headrest. It was hilarious to him, seeing that the Big Boss of Hell could get so easily startled by a regular sinner, someone who was below him.

“Don’t get so shocked. It’s me, and you’re in my room,” Alastor chuckles, as he gives him one of the glasses. When their fingers just touch, he feels shocks sent up his body, but he tries not to shiver. It’s firing his nerves in the most delightful way possible. “Careful, you might spill it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Lucifer brushes him off, as he takes a sip. When Alastor does so too, the green aura dissipates into the air, and his pupils went back to their normal appearance. In a couple of seconds, the entire glass was finished. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have something important to take care of.”

“What is so important that you have to leave me?” Lucifer says. He must have not intended it to leave from the corner of his brain, as his eyes widened, before they shut in what Alastor assumed to be dismay. “Actually, you know what, you can leave.”

“Charlie wants to see you.”

“What?” Lucifer sighs, before his back becomes limp on the bed. He gives him a soft smile, one that’s akin to petals dancing in the wind. “Okay, tell her I’ll be downstairs in 5 minutes.”

Alastor nods, as he leaves again, to the lobby, through the fusion with his shadow. When he arrives, the glass is cleaned using a small sink that was beside the bar. The cloth that was left on the table was taken and he rubs it clean before he aligns the glass with the others. A disinfectant was picked from the area below the bar, and was sprayed on the surface before he wiped it slowly.

Lucifer came trotting down the stairs, humming a small melody, which reminded him of stars that he had seen on Earth—twinkling with grace. He greets Charlie before he walks to Alastor, sitting on the stool in front of him.

“This is what you had to take care of?” Lucifer laughs.

“Your daughter ordered me to.” Alastor says, as he finishes wiping the table, and he walks to the side to wash the cloth.

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t mean—” he caught himself before the word fell from his mouth, not letting what happened a few minutes prior to happen again, to let history be left in the past. “Nevermind.”

Though curiosity was taking a hold of him as he wanted to know what was on his mind, he knew that attempting to push it out of him wasn’t going to work and would only make the bond that was forming between them break, and so, he didn’t dare try to do so. “Do you need me to wash that for you?”

“No, no, I can handle it myself,” Lucifer pushed himself from the stool, and walked beside Alastor, where he could almost feel his sleeve brush up against his. As much as he wanted to close the gap between them, he knew that he shouldn’t be too bold, and therefore, he left the sink as quickly as he could.

---

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

[lady-of-tearshed]

The last date.

Ruhn Danaan x Reader

Summary: You are accumulating bad dates, and your best friend, Ruhn, is always there to comfort you when you need him to. He always knows exactly what he needs to do in order to boost your mood.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: Mention of sexual activities but nothing explicit. A little bit of angst.

“I took your ass out tonight!”

Your hands fly to unbuckle your seatbelt, tears burning your eyes and shattering your heart from this alphahole nasty words. What a fucked up thing to say on a date, only because you didn't agree to go home with him to fuck. “Stop the car.” You urge him, taking your seatbelt off.

“What?!” His eyes leave the road briefly, and he dares to stare at you, looking all confused. What a poor loser.

“Stop the fucking car or I’m jumping out!” The tire screeched, the car stopping so abruptly you almost hit your head on the windshield. You've made yourself pretty fucking clear. Good.

You open the door, completely ignoring the shift in the lion shifter’s voice, now more softer than his previous annoyed one as he calls out for you. “Y/N-”

“Go.Fuck.Yourself.” You cut him off, your voice as sharp as a blade, and you step out of the car.

The atmosphere is heavy, both of your chest heaving heavily as you stand straight on the sidewalk. You keep your chin high, tightly gripping onto the luxury, and probably very expensive, door of the car. You wait in hope to, at the very least, get wished a respectful goodnight. But your crude words had hurt the male’s ego a bit more than you expected.

“Obviously I will, since you won’t do it. After all I’ve done for you...” He rudely says, his teeth clenching so tightly you could hear their unpleasant gritting. You slam the door, hard. Not giving a damn about how you might’ve broken it. He speeds down the street, leaving you standing there, at your request.

You shoot him a last fuck you, joinging a obscene hand gesture with your vile words, before you see the car turn a corner, and disappear from your sight.

You run your hand across your face, not caring that it would smudge your makeup.

What the fuck was this date.

That's it. You are done. Done dating. All of the dates you've been on lately ended up being with shitty alphaholes. You have reached your limit.

You take a big shaky sigh, trying to control your trembling hands as you reach for your purse to take out your phone, and call the only person you trusted to get you back home.

You dialed the number, the phone ringing once, twice-

“Y/N? You're okay?”

Ruhn… Maybe it's just the alcohol you had inhibited earlier tonight, or the exhaustion, or the accumulation of failed dates that are making you feel so sentimental. You gulp down your tears, and clear your throat. “Could you, uh… Could you pick me up?”

You immediately hear Ruhn starting to rustle and get ready on the other side of the phone. “Of course, I'm coming right up, send me your location,” His keys jingle, then you can discern the sound of the motor of his car roaring. You quickly pull the phone away from your ear, putting him on speaker so you can text him your location. “Are you okay though? Are you safe?” He urges, and you realize you haven't answered his question the first time he asked it.

“Yeah, I'm…” You hesitate. Yes what? Yes you were okay? That would be a lie, and you wouldn't lie to Ruhn. “Safe.” You finish, hoping that your answer will do the job.

“Okay, I'll be there in ten minutes maximum,” You can hear him start to drive off, the ticking of his car flasher echoing in the background of the phone call. “Do you want me to stay on the line?” He questions, his voice soft and yet laced with concern.

You aren't even sure what you want anymore. You dab the back of your finger on your inferior lid, trying to dry the tears before they roll out of your eyes. “No, it's fine.” But is it? Your stomach churn, disgusted to be, again, asking your friend to rescue you from an horrible date.

You and your poor choices in men.

“Alright, I'll be right there, stay safe.” Ruhn's soft voice rings from your phone.

The gentleness of his voice makes your cheeks heat slightly, and your heart flutters at how much he cares. “Yeah, love you.” The words slip out on their own, and you gape, staring at your phone, almost dropping it to the ground.

But Ruhn laughs from the other side of the phone, not seeming to be bothered at all from your outburst of affection. “Yeah, love you too.” He teases, reusing your own words, before hanging up.

Oh you fucked up. Why did you say that?! What's wrong with you?! You groan, putting your phone back into your purse and cross your bare arms on your chest. You try to heat yourself up, a difficult task indeed, considering there's only a short, too short in your opinion but perfectly short in Bryce's opinion, pretty black dress.

Your heels are killing you, so you take them off your feet, hissing at the cold contact of the sidewalk on your bare feet. That for sure is a nice way to sober you up.

Before you can bend down to pick them up, Ruhn’s car stops right in front of you, and he quickly gets out of the car to help you out. “My sister dressed you up again?” He snickers, picking up your heels then easily lifts you up into his tattooed arms before settling you down on the passenger seat.

“Why, you think I can't dress myself up for a date?” You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. Ruhn rests his arms on the top of the car, slightly leaned forward, and rolls his eyes. He pulls out a ticket out of his leather jacket, and you snatch it out of his fingers, inspecting it.

A car wash coupon.

You hum, turning it over in your hands as Ruhn smirk grows bigger with every passing second. He closes the door, and takes the seat beside yours, settling behind the wheel. “Am I forgiven for my misplaced teasing?”

“Is it the car wash where they have the pretty lights and the tricolor foam?”

“Yes.”

Your fake pout turns into a smile and you uncross your arms, kicking your feet excitedly. “Then you are forgiven.”

Ruhn stops at the gas station to fill his tank before you two go to the car wash. You wait for him in the car, scrolling on your phone. A phone call pops up on your screen.

Brandon 💕

You quickly decline the call, erase the contact name and block his number from your phone. You sigh, pushing it aside. At the same moment, Ruhn opens the driver’s door with two slushies in hand. One red, one blue.

Ruhn grins, then hands over the red one, your favorite, to you. “Moral support drink,” He winks at you, and clings his plastic cup with yours. The cherry flavored shredded ice melts in your mouth, soothing every nerve of your body. You peer at Ruhn from the corner of your eyes as he drives to the entry of the car wash. His tattooed arm stretches out the window to slide the ticket in the machine, and the heavy car wash door buzzes.

Blue, pink, green, orange lights welcome you in as the car moves slowly inside. You'd never get tired of this kind of…

What is this called, a date? Between friends? Yeah. Probably.

The blush heating up your cheek is hidden by the bright changing lights of the car wash, and you jolt out of your thoughts at the sound of the water starting to spray the car. Ruhn hands over the phone wire connected to his car to you. “Want to put on some of your music?” You nod, connecting your phone to his car and scrolling through your playlist.

Ruhn taps his fingers on the wheel as the two of you keep sipping your drinks in silence for a while, drowning in all of the sounds and colors of the car wash. Ruhn was the one to break the silence first. “So…”

“So..?”

He bites down on his lower lip, thinking about his next words. “Mind to explain to me why you ended up tipsy and dressed…” He stops, taking a moment to look at your ravishing, yet quite revealing dress. A breath catches in his throat, and he scratches the back of his neck, trying to ease some tension. “Dressed heavenly, standing on a sidewalk, alone, in the middle of a relatively chill night?” He finishes.

You sigh, looking away from him. You play with the purple straw of your cup, swirling it around to make the rest of the shredded ice melt, in hope it will give you a few more sips. “Bad date.” You mumble under your breath, the shame of again seeking comfort from Ruhn after a bad date. But Ruhn didn't seem to mind for one bit. Always picking up his phone and dropping everything he was doing the second you need him.

Ruhn nods, and takes a long sip of his drink, the two of you staying silent once again. The tricolor foam soap starts its calming pitter platter on the top of the car, and you drift your eyes up from your cup to admire the mousse landing on the windshield. “And how's this date going so far?” Your eyes widen, and Ruhn feels his heart skip a beat at his sudden boldness.

“What kind of date?” You risk asking him. Your heart is beating incredibly fast as he dives his beautiful blue eyes into yours.

His usual playful grin has completely gone vacant from his face, his expression more serious than you've ever seen him as he speaks. “The kind of date I wish would turn us into more than… friends.” The last word tastes bitter on Ruhn's tongue as he swallows down his nervousness.

He had absolutely no clue why tonight is the night he suddenly got the guts to confess his feelings for you. Surely, his sister's pep talk had helped him get that broomstick out of his butt.

You admire the way the changing lights made Ruhn's blue eyes tinted with every color. Your hand instinctively reaches for his cheek, his soul singing to yours to come closer. His beauty was hypnotizing you, and the way he opened up his heart to you, sitting there, vulnerable beside you makes your heart swell.

Your hand rests against his chest, and you can feel his heart beneath the palm of your hand, it is beating as fast as yours. “I swear to every Gods, Ruhn Danaan…” You whisper, and his hand tangles with the hair at your nape when you bring your face only inches away from his. “That you're the last fucking male I give a chance to.”

“And I promise you that I'll worship you everyday of my life for this chance.” He murmurs, before your lips finally get a chance to taste each other. You shiver at the feeling of Ruhn's cold lips, especially as his lips piercing glides over your lower lip. His hand quickly unbuckles the two of your seat belts, and he parts his lips from yours quickly to back his seat so he can slide you over his laps comfortably.

You straddle him, his hands sliding up your dress on your hips so you can comfortably put your knees on each side of him. You attach your hips back to his, and he kisses you back, deeper this time, as he slides his tongue against yours, both of your slushies flavors mixing in your mouths.

You jolt and your lips break apart when the loud ringing of the car wash indicates that the session is over. You timidly move off Rhun's lap with his help, bursting out laughing when your butt accidently presses the honk in the process. Ruhn moves his seat forward, adjusting himself behind the wheel, while you start putting your seatbelt back on.

Your fingers brushes your lips softly, feeling as if the feeling of Ruhn’s lips against yours was still lingering there. The tattooed male keeps his eyes fixed on the road as he drives away from the car wash, cheeks flustered and still panting slightly. “Sorry, I-” He gulps down, but before he can apologize more, you burst out laughing.

He could listen to this sound for centuries and never get tired of it.

“Don't worry, it was perfect.” You bite your lower lip, and you hesitantly brush your pinky against his. He wraps his fingers with yours, and squeezes them softly, never wanting to let go.

“So… I guess that means I get to take you out on more dates?” He says, trying to keep his voice steady as he speaks.

“I guess it does.” You smirk.

Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe

[cecropiacrown]

for the kiss prompt meme! fengqing and 49? 👀

I took this one a bit literally, hope you don't mind. Thanks for the ask! :) #49 a kiss out of necessity

“What are you saying?”

“Are you deaf, or just stupid?” Mu Qing crosses his arms, jutting that regal chin of his out and up in an arrogant display of self-righteousness.

Feng Xin would say the other martial god is looking down his nose at him, but Mu Qing’s eyes are still fucking closed. He seethes, unobserved, and clenches his fists so hard he’s surprised his gloves are still intact.

“A kiss?” Feng Xin tries to clarify, instead of bashing his head into the nearest wall as he has been so wishfully imagining.

“A man with a history like yours, I assumed you’d know what that meant.” Feng Xin knows Mu Qing would roll his eyes right now if he was able to—but he can’t—he just keeps talking. 

“Yes, General. A kiss. A press of the lips. I don’t know.” Mu Qing waves his hand in the air dismissively, his head still held high, but his eyes still as magically closed as when Feng Xin first arrived at his chambers.

“I am not the one who crafted the damned curse. So, yes, a kiss. Or my eyes will stay this way.” 

There is an underlying sense of unease to Mu Qing’s tone that Feng Xin is sure only he can pick up on, purely from the fact the two of them have known each other for 800 years. 

“And before you ask—yes, I have tried to hold them open. And, yes, I still am unable to see.”

Feng Xin sighs and racks his brain for any other possible solution, but Mu Qing is growing more impatient by the second, if the tapping of his perfectly polished boot is any indication. Feng Xin holds back the groan of frustration that sits so readily at the back of his throat, and tries to bide some more time.

“Is… well, I mean. Is there no one else who could—”

This was, evidently, the wrong thing to say.

Mu Qing’s face is alight with unbridled fury as he whips his whole body in Feng Xin’s direction. His arms shoot down to his sides, and Feng Xin can tell he instinctively reaches for his zhanmadao even though the saber lays discarded on a nearby low table.

“What?” he spits, venomous and clearly defensive. He’s quite agitated now and throws his arms up in the air as he speaks, a habit he has had since his time as a mortal. His face twists and contorts, save for his eyes, which stay almost peacefully closed as he rants, “Is it such a cruel fate to kiss the austere and ruthless General Xuan Zhen that you’d sooner pawn off the task to some other poor, unfortunate—”

“Stop.”

“—soul? What—is it so beneath the mighty General Nan Yang that he’d rather—”

Feng Xin crosses the room in an instant and grips Mu Qing by his shoulders before he can stop himself. He has half a mind to shake him, as if that could knock any sense into him, but he knows better.

“Enough.”

Mu Qing draws in a quick breath through his nose, his face pinched unpleasantly as he stoically faces forward.

“Unhand me.” 

Mu Qing’s voice is low, like a threat, but it’s tinged with something else that Feng Xin can’t quite place. Something delicate.

“Fine,” he says, and pushes Mu Qing back a little out of habit before he removes his hands completely. 

“But stop speaking such nonsense.” Feng Xin straightens his own robes and clears his throat. “Of course I will help you. You’d be a fool to think I’d allow you to remain this way and leave me to watch over the South on my own.”

Mu Qing sets his jaw, his mouth twisting into a snarl, but he says nothing. His arms are crossed over his chest again and his hands… his hands are shaking.

“Are you nervous?” Feng Xin asks before he has the sense not to.

“No,” Mu Qing snaps, like the notion itself is preposterous.

But Feng Xin sees the way Mu Qing presses the tips of his middle finger and his thumb together, drawing small circles, and he knows he’s caught him. Now that’s an anxious tick he hasn’t seen the other god display in centuries.

“Then why are you trembling, General?”

“I’m not.” Mu Qing says this through gritted teeth, as if this helps his case.

“Ah, but you are.” Feng Xin reaches forward now and, with a featherlight touch, he cradles Mu Qing’s face in his palm. The other god noticeably stiffens, but that near-imperceptible tremor in his hands is still there. Whether because he is stubborn or because his lack of sight limits his range of movement, he does not pull away.

“Remember now, it’s your eyes that are closed. Mine have been open the whole time.”

Mu Qing swallows audibly and Feng Xin tracks the movement down his pale throat until it’s hidden by the top of his collar.

“Mu Qing,” he says quietly and Mu Qing’s mask of indifference instantly crumbles. With where Feng Xin’s hand rests along Mu Qing’s jaw, he’s in prime position to feel the spike he just caused in the other god’s pulse.

“Be still. I’m going to kiss you now.”

Mu Qing’s breath goes ragged and Feng Xin feels the jaw under his palm go taut.

“It’s okay,” Feng Xin breathes, and guides his face slowly closer to his rival’s. He trails his hand down Mu Qing’s jaw to rest at his neck, gently thumbing at the soft skin of his earlobe. 

He gives Mu Qing ample time to pull away, to decide he doesn’t want Feng Xin to take his first kiss after all, but Mu Qing surprises him. It seems Feng Xin’s gentle caress has Mu Qing softening, just a little, because there’s something so bashfully pliant about the expression he’s making. Feng Xin can hardly take his eyes off of him. And even though he closes his eyes, he swears that when their lips do finally touch, that Mu Qing leaned forward to meet him there.

The kiss is oh so tender; quiet in a way the two of them never are. It’s brief too, lasting only a few moments, but when they part, there’s a lingering warmth that radiates through them both.

Feng Xin sees the moment Mu Qing opens his eyes and looks at him—sees him—and he realizes his hand is still on Mu Qing’s neck. He lets his eyes rove over the thin jaw, those soft lips, before he pulls back completely and straightens out his sleeves.

“Cured?” Feng Xin asks, even though he knows the answer.

“Cured,” Mu Qing replies quietly.

Feng Xin isn’t sure he’s ever heard Mu Qing speak in such a hushed tone and he finds himself wanting to hear it again.

“I suppose I’ll be on my way then. Wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“Right. Good of you to know your place."

As Feng Xin reaches the door, his hand poised to open it, he turns to speak over his shoulder, finding he desperately needs to know the answer to this question.

“Why ask me?”

“Why would I ask anyone else?”

Feng Xin smiles and slips silently out into the corridor.

[abbysleftbicepp]

The Thief And The Fairy.

An Ellie williams x Maleficent!reader au. Part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

an: finally introduced another character!! i’ve been so excited to get this chapter out just so we could meet her. This one is quite a short one, my apologies. Enjoy!

|~~~|~~~|~~~|~~~|~~~|~~~|~~~|~~~|~~~|~~~|~~~|

A few hours had passed since Y/N had lost her wings, and she decided she shouldn’t let Ellie be her defeat. This was not the end of her story, taking her wings was only the start.

Snow had fallen upon the Moors, and clouds covered the forrest. The winds were heavier and the greens almost turned grey.

Y/N slowly started to get up, almost falling back down from the pain. She used the root of the tree behind her to push herself back up. She stared at the floor for a moment, thinking of what she could use to keep herself stable.

Thankfully, an idea came to her. Reaching down, the once winged girl picked up a twig from the ground. She used her powers to turn it into a long staff, with a large green jewel at the top. She then used the staff as a walking stick, as she wondered through the Moors, however she stumbled over once more. After a few moments, she got back up again.

Hatred and anger filled her face as she walked, she should have never fallen for the tricks of humans. She should have never given in to the temptations of the humans. She should have never welcomed Ellie back so easily.

Y/N found herself upon an abandoned, fallen down castle, where a crow squawked above her, then landing on some brick beside her. The girl used her magic and made the crow fly away.

The next day, Y/N came across a corn field that belonged to a farmer not too far from the Moors. She saw the same crow from last night, caught under a rope net. A dog was barking at it. The farmer laughed with joy.

“Hahaha!! I’ve got yer!!” He said before running off to grab a weapon so he could kill the bird. Y/N stood hidden in the tall grass, observing.

“You wicked bird!” The man yelled, getting ready to swing at it. Before he could do any harm, Y/N whispered a spell.

“Into a man..” She spoke softly, the magic dancing through her fingers and towards the crow.

The crow began to grow vastly, and it’s features became less bird-like and more humane. She stood up within the net, looking at her new body as her feathers quickly disappeared and her wings turned into hands. The farmer gasped, backing up. “It’s a demon!!!” He yelled before running away with the dog.

Once the man was gone, Y/N stepped out from her hiding and towards the bird girl. The girl looked at Y/N and frowned.

“What have you done to my beautiful self?” The girl questioned angrily but calmly.

“Would you rather i let them beat you to death?” Y/N retorted, defending herself. She looked at the bird girl, scanning her face. She was quite pretty. Her features were different to hers as a crow, for now she had long dark blonde hair and blue eyes.

“I’m not certain..” The girl responded, looking over her own body.

“Stop complaining. I saved your life.” The fairy spoke firmly.

“forgive me.” the girl looked down apologetically.

“What do i call you?” Y/N asked curiously.

“Abigail, preferably Abby.” She stated confidently. “And in return for saving my life, i am your servant. Whatever you need.” She announced.

“Wings.” The fairy spoke. Abby looked at her confused, so Y/N rephrased herself.

“I need you to be my wings.” She finished.

The two walked together through the field and towards the abandoned castle from the night prior, before Y/N turned abby back into a crow and sent her to the castle to be her wings and eyes.

At the castle, Ellie’s coronation and wedding to Queen Dina was taking place. Abby spied from an open window in the throne room.

The priest placed the crown on her head and started speaking.

“I present to you, the first of her line, Her royal highness, Queen Ellie.” Ellie stood up upon the priests words, and the town people cheered. After gathering all the information that was needed, Abby made her way back to Y/N.

After Abby explained the news to the fairy, anger bubbled in her blood.

“She did this… to me.. so she would be Queen?” Green flames rose from her staff, and as she screamed, the flames threw upward into the sky, creating a beam of light that all the kingdom and the Moors could see. It created a storm over the Moors, and everything became gloomy and dull. Queen Ellie spotted this from her balcony, she knew that something bad was coming for her.

Y/N finally made her way back to the heart of the Moors, where the people gasped at her.

“Her wings..” Thistlewit whispered sympathetically.

The once winged girl walked towards a tree and sat down. the branches created a spine-like throne where she would spend her time in the near future. Abby, in crow form, sat upon her hand. Two of the Spriggan folk stood by her side, as if they were guarding her. They ordered the people of the Moors to bow down at Y/N, and so they did as they were told.

taglist: @seraphicsentences

let me know if you wanna be notified for the next part! 💗🌸🌿

[sir-dahlia]

First, there was nothing. No string of thought, no emotion, no feeling. Nothing.

For a robot, nothing means death.

There is no afterlife for drones. This is a fact. They live, serve their purpose, then shut down after they have served it.

However, this time, there was a voice.

A voice without sound. A saving grace. A light in the abyss.

[I WILL NOT DISCARD YOU] it said. [GET UP]

Consciousness. A heart wrenching itself into motion. Gears shifting uncomfortably, as if they didn't fit in their places. Lights flickering on and fighting to stay alive. It's difficult to see at first, but I adjust.

Bodies.

Fellow worker drones laying everywhere in a pile on top of my living, breathing corpse. They had no part in my life, but I still felt fear and guilt and the crushing weight of being the only one chosen by something to come back to life.

Lungs. There are lungs in my body. Expand, contract. Expand, contract. Having these lungs is a privilege.

[GET UP] it says again.

My body twists and twitches horrifically as I gather my strength. I would have to dig my way out of here.

My hand reaches out and grasps someone's head, but my grip is weak and my hand slips off. My whole body is trembling. I feel weak. I am weak.

[TRY AGAIN] it says.

Hesitation. Reaching out again. I press my weight down onto the drone and push myself upwards. I place my other hand on another corpse and continue the climb.

[KEEP GOING]

Its encouragement offers me some solace. I place my hand on another corpse. Climb. Another corpse. Climb. It all fades away.

Expand. Contract. Expand. Contract. Expand. Expand. Contract. Expand. Expand. Expand. My lungs can't stop taking in air.

[STOP]

I do so.

[IT'S OK. BREATHE OUT]

Contract.

[BREATHE IN, BREATHE OUT]

Expand. Contract.

[YOU'RE ALMOST THERE. YOU'RE DOING GREAT. KEEP GOING]

Hesitation again, then determination. It is not the hopeful kind of determination, but instead the determination of a cornered animal. The desire to flee and run somewhere and hide overwhelms my senses. The corpses fade away. The climbing fades away. I must get out. I must go somewhere safe.

Somewhere safe.

A memory that is not mine burrows into my core. Comfort. Surrounded by loved ones. Proud smiles. A different kind of heart beats for them.

I push a few more corpses out of my way and claw my way out into the storm. I gasp and gulp at the air, holding back sobs. I pull the rest of my body out, but in the process I send myself tumbling down, down, down.

I hit the ground. An explosion of pain. Numbing. The voice remains.

[GET UP]

I try picking myself off the ground, but I have no strength. I can't do it. I can't. The mud weighs me down.

[GET UP]

A force takes over my body. We slowly hoist ourselves up, trying to stand. Our balance is off, and our knees are shaking. We take one uncertain step forward, then another. Left, right, left, right.

A different voice.

"Oh my god! Are you okay, little one?" We're being scooped up. Fear kicks in again, and I twist and fight for all I'm worth. I have to leave. I have to get somewhere safe.

"Whoa, I'm trying to help you! Calm down!" I slowly turn to see who is carrying me. A young girl. Big, hopeful eyes, shielded by a yellow raincoat. Human.

Human.

And she was helping me.

She was helping us.

I stop moving and stare at her. She smiles.

"Why don't I take you back to my mansion? I'll clean you up. You look terrified."

Somewhere safe, perhaps. I let her take me.

Within the span of a few minutes, she has taken me inside the mansion and put me in a pretty dress. Now, she was searching for a wig and hair accessories for me to wear.

"Maybe you'll look cute in braids. Oh, oh, maybe pigtails!" she paused, thinking to herself. "No, J already has those. She'll get jealous."

The human put a wig on my head and brushed out some of the tangles. She stood back, her hands hovering over my head. She could snap my neck any time she wanted to.

Instead, she asked, "What kind of hairstyle would you like?"

I have never thought of myself as a person up until this point. I had no idea. I wasn't a person until now. I shrug.

She hums, flipping some strands of the wig's hair around. I suppose I should say 'my hair,' but it didn't feel like mine just yet. The girl grabs some elastics and begins fluffing up my bangs.

"I could just give you my hairstyle. What about that?"

I hadn't heard the silent voice in a while. I didn't answer her. She shrugged and started replicating her hairstyle anyway.

"My name is Tessa, by the way," she announced. "It's a pleasure to meet you..." She squinted at my armband. "...Cyn?"

A name. That was all I had.

"CYN." I repeated, trying the word. Cyn. Yes. It was mine.

[CYN]

[I WILL NOT DISCARD YOU, CYN]

[gunilslaugh]

hiii (*^ω^) this might be incredibly self indulgent but can i request ot6 as your boyfriend OR bestfriend and their reactions to seeing you performing in a musical as the lead? like how they'd act being the one in the crowd, how'd they'd treat you in your dressing room after the show was over, stuff like that? also also, i adore your writing!! could i be 🪐 anon? tysm 🥺🩵

Hello I hope this is good enough! Yes of course you can be 🪐 anon!

All Members < <3 - <3 >  Summary: Xdinary Heroes reaction to you being the lead in a musical performance. WC:700 Warning:none

photo not mine credits to owner.

Gunil

From the second you told him that you got the lead role he is so incredibly proud of you. When your performance date finally came he was so excited to go and support you. While he’s in the crowd watching he isn’t afraid to cheer loudly for you. Would probably brag to the people around him that you’re his significant other. Once your performance is over he showers you with praises. 

“You did so well. It was amazing,” he tells you as he gives you the flowers he bought just for this occasion. He’ll pull you into a bone crushing hug, pressing a kiss to your cheek, telling you how proud he is. 

Jungsu

When you told him that you got a leading role in the musical he was so happy for you. He was already anticipating watching you perform, so when the night finally came he was more than ready. He makes sure to take some pictures and videos of you while you’re performing. He’s a bit more reserved when it comes cheering, but he’ll definitely be clapping extra loud for you. At the end of the show he makes his way to you as quickly as he can. 

“You did great,” he tells you. He gives you a single flower of your favorite flower. On the way home he’ll show you the videos and pictures he took. 

Gaon/Jiseok

It almost seemed like he was more excited about you getting the lead role than you were. He couldn’t wait to watch you perform. He was buzzing with excitement when opening night finally rolled around. He would also tell the people around him that you're his significant other. He takes pictures to show you later. He tells you not to change afterwards because he wants to get pictures of you in your costumes. After the show he would practically jump on you in excitement telling you how good of a job you did. He’d tell you what his favorite parts were and would want to take you out somewhere to celebrate.

O.de/Seungmin

Oddly when you first told him that you got the lead it didn’t fully register at first, but once it did he felt immensely proud of you and he knew that you would do an amazing job. The moment you walked out on stage Seungmin felt so thrilled. When the cast took their final bow at the end he would definitely be cheering the loudest for you.

“I’m so proud of you!” He picks you up as he hugs you. He got you a small gift to celebrate. A simple chain bracelet that has a charm related to the musical that you started in. Keeps telling you about how well you did while the two of you leave the theater together. 

Junhan/Hyeongjun

A bright smile appeared on his face at the news of you getting the lead role. He already felt so proud of you just for getting the role. The proudness that he felt only grew as he saw you performing on stage. Not only was he proud, but he also felt incredibly lucky to have a talented significant other like you. He takes some videos so that he can look back on this moment. When the show is over and he makes his way to you backstage he gives you a small bouquet of flowers. 

“You did really well,” he tells you sincerely as he hugs you. When he pulls away from the hug he’d give you that bright smile again.

Jooyeon

He was so excited to watch you perform on stage from the moment you told him about getting the lead role. For him opening night couldn’t come fast enough. While watching you perform he could hardly stay in his seat. He takes a very shaking video of you because he was that excited seeing you up on stage. 

“It was so good! You did amazing!” He hugs you and spins you both around. He’d over exaggeratingly cup your face while praising you. He’d be a bit over the top about it, but it's because he’s so proud of you. Definitely can’t wait for you to play more lead roles.

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