#I know I’m no spirit seeker I can’t sleep through the tears | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

babiepeche · 2 years

Text

“please don't try to find me through my dealer he won't pick up his phone”

if gianna had known the results of her actions of just going to the convenient store with lucy, she wouldn’t have done it. she just wanted to feel like herself again and it was easy to do that when lucy was around. she reminded gia of a time when she had her own free will and she just wanted to feel like that girl again.

“how dare you act like that during a fucking gala! in front of all our friends and colleges. you continue to embarrass me in front of everyone!” joe said yanking gianna by the arm, stepping inside their home and pushed her down to the ground. he bent over snatching her purse from the ground. she started to crying looking up at him. “you think you get to act like fucking delinquent and get away with it don’t you?” he grabbed her phone and turning it off. “i told you i just needed a tampon.” gianna begged. joe chuckled at her comment. “you don’t think I track your period? It’s not the 20th.” he shook his head. “I’m calling your parents tomorrow, telling them that you’re on a yoga retreat.” he paused. “if it wasn’t for max, you’d have it so much more than this, because if you were sleeping with elliot fletcher behind my back...” he just started laughing and shaking his head. she felt sick to stomach, she had never seen joe be this mad at her. how could she have not see this coming. gianna started to cry harder as she went to take off her heels. she regretted everything, she wished she had more guts to interrupt elliot’s wedding five years ago because he would never had treated her like this. she could endure the shame of everyone thinking she was a homewrecker for the rest of her life over this. “stop you're fucking crying. you’re tears are not manipulating me, you know what you did. I forbid you from ever speaking and being around fletcher because clearly he’s obsessed with you. get yourself together and get ready for bed.” he dug around her purse, finding the vape and took her keys. “you’re smoking?!” he yelled at her, dropping it down onto the ground and stomping on it.

“please don't try my father either he ain't been home for years I know I'm no spirit seeker I can't sleep through the tears I get lost in the ether”

Gianna woke up but she didn’t move because joe was still asleep next to her. She didn’t want to wake him up, she just wanted him to remain unconscious as long as he could. She stared at the curtain as the morning light shined through. She couldn’t understand how something so soft and so pure shined through a house that was full of darkness, anger and pain so easily as if the night before never happened. She didn’t know how many days had passed since the night of the gala but every day, she woke up to the same pure innocence that made her heart sink down to the bottom of her stomach as she tried to choke back the cries from what happened the night before. She shut her eyes, falling asleep again. When she woke, gia looked at the time and saw that joe would be work was when she finally got herself out of bed. She sat at her vanity staring at her red puffy tired eyes as she started to get ready for the day, half ways through she just started uncontrollably crying. The sobs came directly from her stomach, putting her face into her hands as the tears kept coming. She just wanted elliot. She needed elliot. She need his embrace, she needed his warmth, she needed his protection, his love, the sound of his voice. She just needed him. It felt like her body was breaking every time a sob left her lips, crumbling down into her velvet vanity chair, leaving her as nothing but a pile of dust and cracked marble on the seat. How could her life come to this. She needed to get out.

“I check it I wreck it I turn it around”

Joe placed a plate in front of gia. It was nothing but handfuls of brown rice, steam broccoli and a small piece of chicken with no skin on it. She stared at the plate and looked over to his, that had much more food on his plate than hers. She lost track how many days it had been but this had been happening every night and she was starving and carved something more. Gia didn’t pick up her fork yet. “That’s all you’re getting, eat it.” joe instructed her. She sighed and ate everything in silence. “I want more.” she said to him. “Ask nicely.” gia rolled her eyes. “Can I have more please?” joe shook his head. “I already told you the first time, that’s all you’re getting. Everything that you eat always goes straight to your ass. Having a big butt isn’t elegant. If it went to your tits, I wouldn’t have to track your food like this.” he told her. Hearing joe talk about her body was like razor blades to her ears. “I’m losing weight and it’s more noticeable on me because i’m already fucking small!” gianna had pushed her plate from off the table that crashed and broke onto the floor.

“Why the fuck haven’t you learned the first time?! Huh?!” joe held onto her arm not carrying his gia could keep up with his strides and yanked open the closet door. Before gianna could realize what he was doing, she started yelling no, over and over again, a sense of doom had washed over her. Her chest was tightening up before the joe slammed the door in her face and locked it. She was in the pure dark alone, she started banging on the door with her fist as she shouted for him to open the door, but the terror was catching up to her. She couldn’t breathe, gia stumbled onto the ground as she was trying to catch her breath but it wasn’t happening. Joe then opened the door and gia jumped onto him, clinging to him for comfort. “You see how much you need me, you can’t live without me.” he said to her softly, wrapping his arms around her and pulled away, cupping her face. “Breathe. Just breathe.” he whispered.

“I don't wanna live I don't wanna give you nothing”

Gianna stared at the light that shined through with the pure innocence again, but this time she didn’t cry. She felt so numb, gia preferred this over the crying because at least she didn’t have to hold off her crying until joe left. She could maybe be herself again. She just wanted the cycle to stop. Every day and night was the same thing unless joe had went to the gym, then the night’s were a little different. She stood up from the bed snore from the previous night and went to fill up the bathtub. Gia started at her razor and wonder if she could unscrew and get the blade lose but she didn’t have the guts to do that to herself. She slumped down under the water of the bath and wondered how long it would take for her to drown herself. Then she remember that she didn’t even write a note then it would look more like a murder but she wanted everyone to know what joe had been doing to her since the gala and the everything before the gala as well. She wanted elliot to have an explanation for it all, she wanted him to have something to hang on to, but she couldn’t. Gia quickly came up for air coughing as she gasped for air.

“I don't wanna give you nothing 'cause you never give me nothing back why can't you be good for something?”

Joe came home drunk, she could smell the vodka on his breath as she tucked him into bed. Which meant that he was going to be asleep through the whole night and nothing was going to wake him. Gianna felt a sense of relief wash over her because that meant she could leave for the night. As soon as he was put to bed, gianna nearly ran into his office looking through his emails to find clues to what the safe code was. She found the mistresses birthday in his imessages and thankfully it open. She knew she couldn’t take her phone with her because if there was a slight chance that he had been going through it, he would know she had seen the messages that were open. She just grabbed her keys, wrote elliot’s firm address on her palm before leaving the house with such urgency but scared as to what would happen if joe did wake up.

0 notes

gatorprompts · 2 years

Text

𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 .

from the 2021 album by lana del rey . swearing present . please amend wording where required !

TEXT BOOK .

“ i guess you could call it textbook . ”

“ i was looking for the father i wanted . ”

“ and then there was the issue of her . ”

“ i didn’t even like myself , or love the life i had . ”

“ and there you were with shining stars ; standing blue with open arms . ”

“ let’s rewrite history . ”

“ i’ll do this dance with you . ”

“ you know i’m not that girl . ”

“ maybe just the way we’re different could set me free . ”

“ i saw you saw who i am . ”

“ i screamed for them . ”

“ could we do this dance again ? ”

“ i guess this is really the end . ”

“ i never felt jealous before this year , but i’m jealous now . ”

“ people say we’re too much alike . ”

BLUE BANNISTERS .

“ there’s a hole that’s in my heart all my women try and heal . ”

“ they’re doing a good job convincing me that it’s not real . ”

“ i wish that it would rain . ”

“ there’s a man that’s in my past . ”

“ he’s real enough to touch . ”

“ the power of us three can bring absolutely everything . ”

“ now my blue bannisters are green and grey . ”

ARCADIA .

“ my body is a map of l.a . ”

“ run your hands over me like a land rover . ”

“ all roads that lead to you as integral to me as arteries that pump the blood that flows straight to the heart of me . ”

“ i can’t sleep at home tonight . ”

“ my heart is like paper . ”

“ they built me up three hundred feet tall just to tear me down . ”

“ i’m leaving them as i was . ”

“ by the way , thanks for that . ”

“ you’ll need a miracle . ”

BLACK BATHING SUIT .

“ and if this is the end , i want a boyfriend . ”

“ i’m tired of this shit . ”

“ my body is my temple , my heart is one too . ”

“ you don’t know me any better than they do , baby . ”

“ my time is run over . ”

“ the only time you’ll ever see me is in your dreams . ”

“ he said i was bad . ”

“ untraditional lover , can you handle that ? ”

“ i guess i’m complicated , my life’s sorta too . ”

IF YOU LIE DOWN WITH ME .

“ put your red boots on . ”

“ talk to me with that whiskey breath . ”

“ twirl me twice . ”

“ don’t say you’re over me when we both know that you ain’t . ”

“ baby , it’s already too late . ”

“ just do what you do best with me . ”

“ dance with me all around the room . ”

“ spin me like a ballerina . ”

“ we both know that you lie . ”

“ be a gentleman . ”

“ if you lie down right next to me . ”

BEAUTIFUL .

“ let’s keep it simple , babe . ”

“ don’t tell me to be glad when i’m sad . ”

“ he’s holding me back . ”

“ if i could be more like you , i would . ”

“ let me run with the wolves , let me do what i do . ”

“ let me show you how sadness can turn into happiness . ”

“ i can turn blue into something beautiful . ”

“ we can’t afford to change it . ”

“ don’t turn me into something i’m not . ”

“ there’s no way to sustain it . ”

“ i try not to hold back . ”

“ it seems , either way , it makes you mad . ”

“ so i’ll be who i’ll be if you think that’s cool . ”

VIOLETS FOR ROSES .

“ there’s something in the air . ”

“ the bookstore doors are opening . ”

“ it’s finally happening . ”

“ ever since i fell out of love with you , i fell back in love with me . ”

“ ever since i fell out of love with you , i fell back in love with the city . ”

“ you made me trade my violets for roses . ”

“ don’t forget all of these things that you love are the same things i hate . ”

“ a simple life , i chose this . ”

“ and still , the shadows haunt the avenue . ”

“ the silence is deafening .”

DEALER .

“ he won’t pick up his phone . ”

“ i know i’m no spirit seeker . ”

“ i can’t sleep through the tears . ”

“ i get lost in the ether . ”

“ i check it , i wreck it , i turn it around . ”

“ i gave you all my money . ”

“ you never give me nothing back . ”

“ why can’t you be good for something ? ”

“ he won’t take any calls . ”

“ he just can’t stop to talk . ”

“ i check it , i wreck it , and i’ll explain . ”

THUNDER .

“ you roll like thunder when you come crashing in . ”

“ town ain’t been the same since you left with all your friends . ”

“ you act like fucking mr. brightside when you’re with all your friends . ”

“ but i know what you’re like when the party ends . ”

“ just do it . ”

“ just do it , don’t wait . ”

“ you roll like thunder , pouring all your drinks . ”

“ you try to see the bright side when each new day begins . ”

“ but you’re not satisfied at the rainbows end . ”

“ i don’t wanna wait . ”

“ just keep burning ‘til rain . ”

“ baby , keep me ablaze . ”

“ just keep burning , keep me alive . ”

“ spare your blade . ”

“ if hello just means goodbye then , honey , better walk away . ”

WILDFLOWER WILDFIRE .

“ here’s the deal . ”

“ i know you wanna talk about it . ”

“ what i can promise is i’ll lie down . ”

“ i nourish you hazily . ”

“ baby , i’ve been running on stardust . ”

“ alone for so long . ”

“ i wouldn’t know what hot fire was . ”

“ i’m better with you . ”

“ it’s strange , but it’s true , darling . ”

“ baby , i’ll be like a wildflower . ”

“ i live on sheer willpower . ”

“ i’ll do my best never to turn into something that burns . ”

“ i ended up awkward , but sweet . ”

“ i wouldn’t know how cruel the world was . ”

“ not to turn into a wildfire to light up your night . ”

NECTAR OF THE GODS .

“ what cruel world is this ? ”

“ gold in my veins , you in my thoughts . ”

“ i’m on the freeway , racing at a million . ”

“ i just can’t stop . ”

“ i call you up twice , hang up the phone . ”

“ call again , i wanna talk . ”

“ i get wild on you , baby . ”

“ i get wild and fucking crazy . ”

“ what sweet world is this ? ”

“ i used to dream about people like you , now i don’t know why . ”

“ once i found my way but now i am lost . ”

LIVING LEGEND .

“ and baby you , all the things you do , and all the ways you move , send me straight to heaven . ”

“ and baby you , what you never knew , what i never said , is you’re my living legend . ”

“ but you never cared about my name . ”

“ darling , i never meant to defy you . ”

“ you really are my living legend . ”

“ i never meant to be bad or unwell . ”

“ i was just living on the edge . ”

“ i’m tired of it . ”

CHERRY BLOSSOM .

“ what you don’t tell no one , you can tell me . ”

“ you’re very brave . ”

“ there’s much to see . ”

“ and when scared , i’ll be right here . ”

“ it’s a cruel , cruel world , but we don’t care . ”

“ ‘cause what we’ve got , we’ve got to share . ”

SWEET CAROLINA .

“ don’t have to write me a letter , ‘cause i’ll always be right here . ”

“ we love every hair on your head . ”

“ if things ever go wrong , just know this is your song . ”

“ we love every freckle you have . ”

“ if you’re ever stressed out , just dance in the night . ”

“ it’s as close as we’ll get to the dream that they had . ”

“ if you’re stressed out , just know you can dance to your song . ”

“ you’ve got us , we’ve got you . ”

“ there’s nothing to lose and we love you . ”

“ so don’t write me a letter ; i’ll always be right here . ”

“ closer to you than your next breath , my dear . ”

#rp help #rp sentence promprs #lana del rey rp #lyrical rp meme

61 notes · View notes

aces-to-apples · 3 years

Text

@faeymouse: Time Travel AU and First Time trope for Cole please, friend. I leave the ship to your discretion ☺️

Ship: Cole/Original Cole

Rating: Mature

He calls himself Cole, which should not be the strangest part of it all yet somehow still is.

He shoos away Cole's friend with gentle reassurances—it's okay, spirit-me, go help someone else now, I'll take care of him, I know how to keep him safe—and picks the lock on his cell door. He pulls Cole in close as they leave the White Spire, and then all of Val Royeaux, behind them in the distance and it's as if no one even sees them. He gives Cole food and water and thick, soft bedding and rubs Cole's back and pets his hair when he becomes sick after eating too much. He softly promises that no one will ever cage Cole again, that Cole will always have someone to remember him, that he'll always have food and companionship and compassion.

All of this while wearing Cole's face, using Cole's name.

He says he comes from a faraway future, a future where Cole had perished, lonely and hungry and forgotten, in the depths of the White Spire. His spirit friend, soft and caring and comforting, had kept him company. Then, after he passed, tried to honor Cole by taking on his form and helping people.

He admits, at length, that he had done a poor job at first. He'd become a demon, unaware that his attempts to help were, in fact, hurting—or, at least, taking away any chance for the hurts to heal on their own.

He says he knows better now, wide-eyed and earnest.

It should be unnerving to look into his own face and see someone else—to see a spirit—looking back at him. Somehow, it isn't.

Cole—spirit-Cole, although he says he's more human than spirit now, so Compassion—says he convinced the friend who sent him back to send him farther than they needed. He says he wanted to come back far enough to save Cole, human-Cole, from the Spire, from the Templars.

You're my friend, he says earnestly, from beneath the very best hat Cole's ever seen. My very first friend. They wanted me to come back to help everyone, and this way, you're part of everyone too.

Cole doesn't understand, it's all too much: Magisters ("Dorian's not a magister," Compassion says with a smile that shows their overbite. "His father's a magister, but he's a bad father. He hurts him, even though he loves him, because sometimes love isn't enough. Dorian's a friend—a good one.") and magic and time and temptation and fear and the Fade, all mixed up and making Cole's head hurt.

Compassion rubs his temples and runs his hands through his hair and that feels good, makes the hurt go away.

"We'll go to Ferelden," Compassion says one night as they eat supper, days after leaving Val Royeax. He'd taken food and supplies from vendors who never noticed, sometimes leaving money from rich Orlesians' pockets and sometimes not. He'd said someone named Jenny told him who deserved which. "Stone-Bear will help us.”

Cole doesn’t ask who or what Stone-Bear is, trusting his friend to not lead them wrong.

When supper is finished, they share a bedroll and Cole tries not to think about the Templars that had hurt him, beat him, and—worse. Worse than beatings were the other ways they’d hurt him; Father had beat him too but never that, at least.

Odd, that.

Compassion snuggles closer and runs a soothing hand up and down his arm, humming a tune that his—their?—little bitty bunny used to sing to herself.

“Stone-Bear will take care of you, will keep you safe, while I’m gone,” Compassion murmurs into his hair, ruffling newly-cleaned strands. “I still have to do the things that I was sent back here to do, and I would still like to help people when I can, but I promise I will come back. And when the orb is unlocked and the sky tightens, tears, turning in on itself, it will be time for us to meet our friends. They will like you. They will keep us safe and let us help.”

Cole can’t even imagine all that. The hand on his arm stills, then Compassion moves even closer. Pressed together like spoons, cast from the same mold. An arm wraps around his middle and the hand returns, stroking up and down his chest and belly.

“Would you like me to tell you about them? Our friends.”

... Yes, please.

Compassion fills the night air with descriptions of these people who mean so much to him, to them.

Varric who calls them ‘Kid’, spinning stories like sapphires, gilded, glittering in the gloom; a silk shirt with three buttons left undone; fear that fades the longer he speaks, slipping to sleep. Dorian with his shiny clothes and shining heart, heartsick, heartbroken, sweet and swept along, adventures and romance, ash and rust. Cassandra, a Seeker of Truth, who befriended Faith and fights Fear and reads books aloud to ghost boys who don’t know what they are. Josephine, golden, glowing, unruffled in ruffles, honey in her tea. A black wall that is rainier but killed him. A serrah who is a jenny, scarlet, scarred, scared, but funny and firm and warm and warmth. A templar who realized he was wrong; mages all around, unmonitored, unmolested, and it’s good because he made himself safe and solid, protecting and proud, he won’t be the mages’ monster anymore.

There’s more: a Life with a lovely hat who won’t let herself starve and fears him more than anything but still cares about him; an iron bull boasting and blustering, a bulwark, unmoving but not unmoved, Fear tossed out of its hiding place by trust in friends and a large stick; a god who isn’t, bright and brilliant and ‘a bit of a bastard’, who broke the world once and then twice, unable to cope with his grief. A left hand with a knife and a song and birds on dark wings that cackle and sing with her.

Part of Cole slips to sleep while Compassion speaks, while others awaken.

The hand stutters, and Compassion sounds unsure for the first time as he says, “Varric and the Iron Bull and Dorian all said it’s important to ask before I touch, and wait for a ‘yes’, and pay attention to hurts. May I touch you, Cole?”

They breathe, quietly, and Cole thinks about it for a long time, even when his breaths turn to pants and he wants to squirm. He’s never felt safer.

Yes. Please.

Cole thinks maybe Compassion hasn’t done this before, hand slow and unsure around him, but it doesn’t matter. It still feels good, makes him writhe and sigh and whimper, overwarm and overworked, until he spills.

He sinks back into his friend’s embrace and takes a breath so deep, it makes his lungs ache.

They’ll sleep, and then go to Ferelden and Stone-Bear, and his friend will leave but it will be okay because when he comes back, Cole will meet their friends. The future has darkness in it, but still looks bright.

#cole my beloved #dragon age: inquisition #da:i fic #by apples #is it selfcest if they're technically two different people?? sources say: no.#citrus scale #lime #non-graphic lemon #???#ask meme #trope mash-up #faeymouse

12 notes · View notes

tsuraiwrites · 3 years

Note

“We slept in the same bed for space reasons but now we’re just waking up and there’s something about your bleary eyes and mussed hair…” for Dorian and anyone else you fancy?

thank you so much for the prompt! for @dadrunkwriting

trying my hand at Anders/Dorian with inquisitor!Anders because this group put the idea in my head and it lodged there.

Fic: At Grey Dawn

When Anders wakes, it’s to the ever-present noise that catches like serrated knives behind his forehead. Justice stirs under his skin, a rumble of discontent that he is only just able to make out over the Calling. Those shrieking notes scratch at the back of his brain relentlessly until Justice presses it down again, smothering most of the tumult down to a dull roar – though one he can never be entirely rid of. Anders sighs lowly, opening his eyes to the tent ceiling as the first grey light of dawn starts seeping through the heavy cloth. His entire body aches, his mana only just recovered enough to finish healing himself last night. His left hand, as always, burns with the tug of the Mark.

Anders shudders, finds his eyes wandering in an effort to distract himself from the pull of the raw Fade in his own hand, and invariably they land on his companion.

Truth be told, Anders hadn’t relished the idea of sharing a tent with anyone. With the mages from Redcliffe trailing along behind them, he’d done his best to see everyone properly outfitted with at least the basics, including any extra tents the Inquisition scouts brought along.

That unfortunately left few to go around. When presented with the choice between sharing with the Seeker who still has to curb her homicidal impulses around him, a Qunari spy, or Varric (who snores like a bellows at the best of times and still can’t always look him in the eye), Dorian Pavus isn’t the worst person to be crammed in with. His only other option had been to sleep out in the open as Solas and some of the scouts had chosen; Anders is used to roughing it but he isn’t a masochist. He likes a nice, warm – if cramped – tent and not waking up covered with dew.

That, and he likes to think he’s built up a rapport with the Tevinter mage over the last days; enough to trust the man not to slit his throat in the night. That horrendous jaunt to the future at least ended with a powerful ally on the Inquisition’s side, and that’s all Anders can really bring himself to say on the matter.

He’s already had to recount those nightmarish events for Pentaghast and the others; no doubt he will have to repeat himself to Josephine, the Nightengale, and Rutherford when they return to Haven.

Pavus will help, certainly. He had filled in some of the blanks for Anders’ companions when Anders couldn’t find the words to explain the horror of their time travel – let alone the technicalities.

One day, Anders will ask him to describe how time magic works… the theory must be complex.

When the man is awake, of course.

The Tevinter is lying on his side with his bedroll tucked tight around him, covering everything but his head, his face cushioned against his pack. As Anders watches, Pavus snuffles, turning his face into his makeshift pillow and rather neatly folding the left side of his mustache in half against his cheek. Anders’ lips twitch up against his will.

Between the disarray of his mustache and the smears of kohl around his eyes, Pavus looks far… softer. Less the haughty Tevinter nobility, and less hunted, too.

Anders recognizes the look of a runaway when he sees one. He doesn’t know Pavus’ story yet, but Anders finds himself wondering, taking in his ruffled appearance, if the man will deign to tell him. Maker knows he could use a few more people to talk to, to take his mind off this forsaken mess if only for a minute.

Anders only realizes he’s been staring when the Mark tugs, hard enough that his hand spasms. He doesn’t hiss but he does shut his eyes, right hand wrapping around his wrist as if he can stave off the pain that way. Touching the Mark itself or trying to heal it only makes the tugging worse, so all he can do is clutch at himself and wait for it to subside.

Justice rumbles again, angry at his inability to do more to help.

It’s fine, he assures the spirit. We’ve both weathered worse.

“Does it hurt?”

Anders nearly jumps out of his bedroll, unable to suppress the surprised noise he lets out as he turns to meet Pavus’ eyes. The smears of kohl around them only add to his bleary look, and Anders desperately stomps down on the part of him that starts going on again about the softening of Pavus’ face by the watery light.

“What?” he asks, the question flying over his head entirely.

“Your hand, does it pain you?” Pavus’ voice is quiet in deference to the early hour and the small space between them, but the words are filled with a concern not entirely in line with what Anders has observed of Pavus so far.

That makes Anders hesitate. Pavus has shown himself to be brash and confident – rightly so, considering his command of time magic and necromancy. The man hasn’t lied to him yet, and he’s also taken up firmly against whoever the “Elder One” is, to the tune of saving Anders’ life. Surely, Anders can afford to let slip a little of his own doubt, if Dorian is willing to hear him out.

“It hasn’t stopped hurting since the Breach opened,” he admits, watching the Tevinter’s eyes widen and flicker down to Anders’ hand. Pavus’ brow wrinkles, and Anders tears his gaze away. “I’m not sure even closing it will make it stop, at this point.” He flexes his fingers and Mark flares, crackling with Fade energy. It also sends a spasm of whire-hot fire through his palm that makes his whole hand convulse.

Dorian hisses between his teeth, and Anders isn’t sure if it’s in sympathy or censure when he asks:

“Should you be doing that? It looks… painful.”

Anders snorts as the spasm subsides, letting the Mark go as dormant as it ever gets.

“True. What would my healer say? Oh, wait...” He raises his eyebrows.

Pavus chuckles, himself already the beneficiary of Anders’ magic after one of the Venatori in the future had gotten a lucky strike.

“Does your spirit healing not work on it?” he continues, evidently unable to hold back the curiosity any longer.

“Not really. As far as Solas and I can figure, it’s a direct link to the Fade. It just sucks up and reflects any magic cast directly on it.” He sighs. “It’s why Josephine and the Nightengale wanted to recruit the mages in the first place.” Pavus’ eyebrow quirks and he explains. “Ah, they’re… advisors? Part of a council, I guess, if we include me.” And he’s not looking forward to the absolute fucking fit Rutherford is going to throw when he hears what happened; how Anders gave the mages a place in the Inquisition as allies.

As if Anders would ever do anything else.

“Anyway, we think with the boost in power it should be able to close the Breach.”

“I see. You have no way of testing this beforehand, I assume?”

“No. But we saw what’s at stake if it doesn’t work.”

They share a look that goes on for moments longer than Anders really means it to.

Pavus breaks their stare, and Anders isn’t sure if he imagines the way that he swallows before sitting up with a stretch.

“Aren’t we both delightful this morning? Shall we change the topic to something less heavy. What’s for breakfast, perhaps?” He sits up as much as he can in the tent’s cramped confines, dragging his pack around to rifle through it.

“Pavus,” Anders says before he can think better of it, and the man’s head whips back around.

“Call me Dorian, if you please. ‘Pavus’ is what I hear right before one of my old Circle peers or instructors descends on me,” he says, a wry smile blooming across his lips, and Anders catches himself staring again.

“Dorian, then. I just wanted to say thank you – for everything that happened in Redcliffe. I wouldn’t have made it out without you and I don’t think I’ve said it, yet.”

Dorian blinks, but the edges of his smile become less sharp, a tension disappearing that Anders notices only in its sudden release.

“You’re very welcome.”

#fic #dragon age #anders/dorian pavus #dragon age drunk writing circle #inquisitor!anders #finally I finished a thing asdhaihdsfk

17 notes · View notes

jj-lives · 4 years

Text

Overgrown Inktober - Bmblb

The pale orange glow peeking through the closed curtains told Blake it was too early for her to be awake. Yang still slept peacefully beside her, as she had the morning before when Blake stared at the ceiling for hours. She tried to fall back to sleep, even gently curling into Yang’s side, which normally had her passing out in minutes, could not turn off the thoughts swimming in her mind. It shouldn’t matter who Yang was back in highschool. It shouldn’t matter that the picture Blake had in her head wasn’t correct. Yang told her once she didn’t have many friends growing up. She’d told her Pyrrha was her first friend. But that wasn’t true. The group they’d run into two days before proved that.

Blake was upset but she couldn’t decide if it was because Yang had been dishonest with her or that the picture of the two of them being kindred spirits was washed away at the knowledge. She’d seen Yang as her equal. Her partner. Her… soulmate. But those things were in part based on the knowledge they’d both been lonely and slightly lost before they’d found each other.

She knew it was stupid. Taking a moment to watch Yang sleep frustrated her more. She didn’t love Yang any less. How could she? She was still the same loving, beautiful, always-put-others-before-herself self. It wasn’t possible for Blake to love Yang any less when each day she woke up next to her, and each night she fell asleep wrapped in the other’s arms, she fell more and more hopelessly in love.

Giving up on sleep and feeling restless Blake slipped out of bed before she woke Yang with her tossing. She didn’t want to answer the questions Yang would ask at her being up so early. She didn’t want Yang seeing this petty side of her that was upset she’d had a happier, more friend-filled, childhood than her own.

Making her way quietly to the kitchen downstairs she thought a cup of tea might calm her. She knew she needed to figure out a way to put these thoughts behind her. It shouldn’t matter. And maybe that’s why she was so worked up about it all. She knew she was acting irrationally, and she wasn’t used to that.

This wasn’t her.

The kettle just came to a boil when Tai walked into the kitchen.

“Oh, you’re up early today.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Blake simply replied. “Would you like some tea?”

“That would be great, thanks.”

She poured the boiling water in a teapot before carrying it and two cups to the table where Tai had settled. They sat in silence waiting for the tea to steep, but as she poured them both a cup Tai finally broke the silence.

“Any reason you couldn’t sleep?”

“Not really.”

She knew he meant well but she really didn’t think talking to Yang’s dad about their relationship was a good idea. Especially since she’d only met the man not even a week ago. This was something he probably wouldn't understand. The fact she didn't quite understand proved that. If she couldn't figure out her own mind how was a stranger supposed to help her?

“Yang wasn’t snoring was she?” Tai took a sip from the cup Blake slid over to him. “She used to wake Ruby and I all the time.”

“Really?” Blake asked, amused. If only it was that simple. “She’s not that bad now.”

“That’s good to hear. I take you as kind to be dangerous with little sleep.”

Blake laughed.

“Hardly. Though, I wonder why you approached me this morning if you thought I’d be dangerous.”

“I like to live a little on the wild side.” He sent a teasing wink Blake’s direction.

“So that’s where Yang gets it from.”

“She sure does come off as a thrill seeker, that’s for sure.” Finishing the last of his tea he seemed to be observing Blake. She wasn’t sure why and it was starting to unnerve her. “I was about to head out to do some gardening. Would you like to join me?”

“I-“

“Don’t tell me my daughter brought home a princess scared to get a little dirt under her fingernails?”

“Hey!” Indignant was an understatement. The last thing anyone would call her was a princess. “I think you’re getting your daughter’s girlfriends confused.” The quirk of his lip told Blake she’d played right into his hand. He’d meant to force a reaction from her. But two could play at that game. “I’ll join you, however. I wouldn’t want you injuring yourself in your confusion, Old man.”

Tai threw his head back and roared.

“Oh I knew you couldn’t be only the meek and quiet girl that turned up on my doorstep a few days ago. There had to have been some attitude hidden away to have Yang falling so hard.”

Blake knew she was blushing.

“Come on then. Let’s get to work.” Tai stood. “Do you want to change first?”

Shaking her head Blake carried their cups to the sink. “I wouldn’t want to wake Yang. I’ll change once she gets up. Besides it’s warm out.”

Following him to the shed outside he threw her a spare pair of gloves before leading her to the flowerbed on the side of the house.

“You know what are weeds, right?”

Kneeling on one side Blake nodded again.

Tai shook his head. “You are a woman of few words, Blake.”

“Hmmm,” she hummed in reply. “I think it sometimes infuriates your daughter.”

They worked in silence side by side for about an hour before Tai’s voice interrupted her thoughts. She was glad for the distraction as the monotony of her task was allowing her mind to wander to unpleasant thoughts again.

“You aren’t picking these annoying beasts.” He pointed out pulling a spindly light green plant from its spot next to a half bloomed tulip. “They are impossible to get rid of.”

“Get rid of?” Blake looked back at the patch she’d cleared. “I’d agree. But they are pretty easy to manage and you want to keep some around. They naturally deter pests and their scent drives away mosquitoes as well.”

“Hmm,” Tai looked at the plant with less distaste. “You really know your plants, huh?”

“My mother has a large garden and I grew up helping her manage it.” Shrugging her shoulder she threw another weed into her growing pile. “I also read a lot.”

“Oh, a scholar.” Tai laughed. “Can’t believe my little social butterfly grew up and fell in love with a bookworm.” Shaking his head he went back to work.

“Yeah.” Blake roughly picked another weed, accidentally half uprooting a daisy behind it. “Ugh.”

She could feel Tai’s eyes on her as his hands stilled.

“I heard you ran into some of the old gang a few days ago.” He said quietly.

“Sure did.” Blake responded, packing the daisy’s roots back securely in the dirt. Hopefully it would continue to thrive and not wilt. “The Xiao Long Legend.” Blake paused, picking up a ladybug from a weed she was currently wanting to get rid of. She placed it on the petal of one of the tulips in an area she’d already cleared. “That’s what they called her.”

Tai chuckled at the old nickname.

“She sure was always surrounded by a lot of schoolmates.”

"Sure seems like she had an abundance of friends."

"You would not believe some of the stories I could tell you of how Yang always found herself at the center of some ordeal or another." Blake responded by doubling her efforts, moving over a foot and working at clearing the new section. "But that doesn't equate to the same thing as friendships."

Her hands stopped halfway through pulling a difficult, long-rooted weed from the middle of the patch.

"Some people protect themselves through silence and mystery. Some choose a different path."

"I don't understand." Blake was sure the silent mystery he mentioned was aimed at her but she wasn't sure where he was trying to lead their conversation.

"You, I would wager, cover up who you are with weeds and thorns."

"I-"

"So others have to pick each prickly problem before they earn your trust and get to see the flower beneath that rough exterior.”

He motioned to the flower garden. Most had been picked clean from their continued ministrations. The colourful flowers once hidden by the quick growing wall of weeds now on display ready to flourish. But there was a small section still covered by a thick overgrowth that continued to block the light from reaching the life within.

“Tai. How-“

“But my eldest daughter. Ever the first to step forward with a hug or a smile. The one that lives to brighten everyone else’s day…” He paused, caressing a bright yellow marigold. “Well, like I said. Some hide in the shadows covered in thorns for protection. Others hide in plain sight, letting forced smiles and mock laughter distract others from finding out what truly lies beneath.”

“Blake.” Yang’s muffled call drifted to their ears followed by quickened heavy steps descending the stairs inside.

“You and her are more alike than you think. Both hiding behind a wall of overgrowth.” Tai smiled warmly. “Yang’s can be harder to see because it’s hidden well. But I would bet she shows you a side of herself she hasn’t shown many. I’d wager you know aspects of my daughter I don’t even get to see.”

Blake remembered the scared, frail girl that knocked on her door before spring break, terrified of losing her. The sad and lonely side that she showed her behind closed doors during finals. The frantic fear Yang failed to hold back the night of her apartment fire.

“I can finish out here.” Tai spoke, breaking her thoughts. “You should go find yang before she destroys all of Patch looking for you.”

Blake stood, dusting the dirt and grass from her knees.

“And Blake.”

“Yes?”

To Blake, it looked like Tai was fighting back tears, but she couldn't fathom why.

“I would trade all the ridiculous stories of Yang’s youth and classmates to have had you come into her life sooner. And I’m positive Yang feels the same way.”

Blake smiled, understanding exactly what he meant. She felt the same about Yang and would give anything to have had more time with her. Brushing her hand along his shoulders in a silent action of comfort she made her way to the front of the small home. Yang stepped onto the porch with a worried expression.

All the doubt and negative emotions that were building the past two days washed away at the sight of her. Blake couldn’t understand why she’d been wasting time she could have been peacefully enjoying in her girlfriend's presence.

“Never again,” she promised.

“What was that?” Yang questioned.

Blake took the front steps two at a time and rushed to Yang’s side, wrapping her arms securely around Yang’s framed and burying her face in the crook of Yang’s neck. Blake breathed deep and hummed her approval.

Yang laughed, squeezing Blake just as tightly in return.

“What’s gotten you so clingy?”

“I’m just really happy.” Blake whispered, pulling back to place a soft kiss to Yang’s lips. As Yang pressed to deepen the kiss Blake spun out of her arms.

“Hey!” Yang’s disappointment was evident. “You’re such a tease.”

Blake laughed, grabbing Yang’s hand and pulled her into the house. Giddy was the closest word she knew to describe how she was feeling. She squeezed Yang’s hand her cursory three times as she dragged her through the lower level of the house.

“I need to shower and change clothes. While you were sleeping your father was putting me to work.”

Yang held tight to Blake’s hand as they made their way upstairs.

“Do I get to join you in this shower?”

A sharp pull spun Blake around. Yang stepped forward, trapping Blake against the closed bathroom door; their still entwined hands pinned to the wood just above Blake’s head. She sucked in a sharp breath before Yang stole the kiss she’d denied her on the porch. Blake melted and a moan escaped her as she returned the kiss.

“Is that a yes?” Yang queried as they pulled a part.

Blake groaned. Yang was the only one able to tempt her in these ways. Entwining the fingers of her free hand in the curls at the base of Yang’s neck she pulled her in for another sultry kiss. She was about to open the door and drag Yang in, accepting her earlier proposal when the open window at the end of the hall brought a whistled tune to her ears.

She pushed Yang roughly back, breathing hard she ran her hands through her hair lest they grab Yang in their desperate need to have her closer.

“Your dad is right outside.”

“We could be-“

“Quiet?” Blake shook her head. “I can’t Yang.”

Her disappointed groan amused Blake. The slumped figure against the opposite wall was something she pitied.

“But if you’re good for the next two days…” Blake spoke, opening the door behind her and half disappearing from Yang’s view. “I can arrange for Ruby to be gone for a few days when we get back home.”

“Deal.” Yang was quick to agree as Blake chuckled and closed the door, locking it for good measure.

God did she love that girl

#bumbleby #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #fanfic #my writing #rwby #inktober

87 notes · View notes

thesyndicatesghost · 3 years

Text

Awaken

The warmth of the Beyond trembles, gentle but insistent, urging her to wake. Slipping back into the mortal plane with a groan of discontent, she took a moment within the ruins to gather herself. The sun is just rising, the sky smeared with shades of red, orange, and yellow, as if a hand had dragged itself through the colors. They drip onto the ruins, painting them with blood and fire, the old embers reigniting along the blackened buildings. The air is clean though, the flowers that had managed to grow among the decay filling the air with sweetness. She listens to her name through the Beyond, whispered to children to scare them into following rules, travelers on the road scoffing to hide their unease as they peer into the forests. Researchers don’t cling desperately to their charms as they pour through ancient texts. It had been a long time since her last venture into the mortal realm, but it was not by her will that she’d awaken. Something was travelling through the World and the Beyond, leaving them trembling with a whisper of -

With a growl she turns her sight far, to the beautiful city of the damned. The Beyond writhes there, pulsing, as ghosts tear their way through the streets. Wronged, lost, in pain and furious, demanding justice from a city where the blood soaked scales are fixed eternally against the weak. It still screams now, but it is the same constant, low buzz, not the source of what had awakened her.

No, there is something rippling gently through the World. It is small and barely noticeable under the rest of the noise, but it carries farther, slowly wearing down the sharp edges. Focusing, she follows the ripples to the center of the pond, farther and farther, until she finds herself in a desolate snowy biome. Of course. She groans, loud and agitated as her energy wanes, legs curling up tightly as she levitated a little higher above the ground. The cursed flakes that land on her hiss, small wisps of smoke rising. She was sorely tempted to slip back into the Beyond.

The Beyond laughs, pressing back, and with a huff she continues until she reaches the center.

A stronghold, hidden within a mountain, and within the ripples become waves. Small but slowly growing, something that could sweep over the whole SMP if left alone. It carried a desire for change, but this felt...different? Curious she began to press forward, only to freeze, slowly turning to look down.

A grass block, freshly watered, sat in the snow, uncovered, not far from her. To the normal person, while unsettling, it is a normal block. To her the World and Beyond arch, blending together in a cacophony of silent noise around the block, stretching out into the realms, through the cracks in the universe itself.

Hey, you. You’re finally awake.

MCPE. She approaches the block with a small smile, humming in appreciation when the snow melts away around it and stops falling. Warmth radiates from MCPE, despite how soaked the block is. Slowly descending she sighs happily and curls her black-smudged toes in the dry grass. The weather remains unchanged, creating a curtain of snowflakes around them.

Rude, shouldn’t you introduce yourself first?

But MCPE already knows her name.

Still, it would be polite, there is a pause, it is a lovely name.

Thank you. She crouches down next to the block. What is this place?

You know.

She huffs at the mocking tone, but doesn’t disagree. The Beyond whispers in her ear about the Syndicate, and carries the stories that have quietly spread through the populace. Seekers of knowledge, attempting to correct the false histories. Artists and writers with immeasurable talent, always growing. The lost, looking for a place to belong when there was nowhere else. On cue another waves splashes into the pool, gently washing over her. She laughs, a quiet, shaky sound she hasn’t made in so long without the intention to harm. They’re going to be loud.

They already are. There are a thousand layers of exasperation and fondness. Are you going to join?

She hums thoughtfully, standing up and straightening out her cloak.

You’re going to have to talk to people.

She recoils, lips curling at the thought of talking. The mere idea sounded exhausting, form rippling as she considered going back to sleep.

Don’t be a baby. I’m sure they’ll be happy to have you. They’re all terrible.

She scowls as MCPE leaves, allowing the cold back into the area, snow quickly covering the ground. Taking a slow breath, she studies the wall for a moment, listening to the Beyonds urging as waves pass over her. Then, carefully, she slips through the walls, undetected by the guards, into the Syndicate.

“PINK! GIVE ME BACK THAT KNIFE!”

“NO!”

A teenager with pinkish skin barrels past cackling, a knife clutched tightly in one hand. Not far behind, a tall man with a fox tail chases, face twisted into a scowl. He sounds like he’s cursing someone’s name, a Spooce, but it blurs together with his shouts after Pink.

They’re gone in an instant.

She stares after them, before turning her gaze upwards where an eye nestled in the ceiling watches. It isn’t acting as a guard, gaze following the wandering members with curiosity. It blinks out of existence.

Voices catch her attention, drawing her to another room with a long table, blue lanterns adorning the walls. There are people here, discussing something she can’t discern with how quickly they speak. The Beyond directs her to one in particular, a woman with long brown hair and amethyst eyes, a golden feather glinting in the blue light. She stands at the head of the table, lost in the discussion as her hands fly in time with her words. Aelyn, the Beyond whispers, the name carrying more weight than a mortals.

Head tilting, she turns her attention towards a pile of notes near Aelyn. Humming to herself, she pushes the words to the edge of the page, plucking out the needed letters before discarding the scraps

mAy I jOIn the syNdiCATe

She hesitated, before adding:

- SpiRit

#zablr syndicate #zablr syndicate au #drabble #an idea for how Spirit came to the Syndicate #probably to be adjusted later?

1 note · View note

msjr0119 · 5 years

Text

Hold On

Part 9 - Love makes you do crazy things...

Nobody got injured at the Homecoming ball, they all get separated into different safe houses- for safety.

Riley and Drake had confirmed that they had feelings for each other, however Drake believed Riley should be with Liam. Heartbroken, she moves back to New York. Only keeping in touch with Hana, Maxwell and Olivia.

Riley meets lawyer, Nate Cooper and begins a relationship with him. In Cordonia, Drake begins to court Kiara.

Nine months after Riley had left Cordonia- there is a reunion, but not the reunion the friends had hoped for.

*Characters belong to Pixelberry*

If you are under 18 please do not read this series. If you do, you are consenting that you are over the age.

Series warnings: Suicide, domestic abuse, swearing, stabbing, smut 🍋. If any of these triggers affect you do not read!

***Some quotes from this part are from TRR***

Tags- @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @drakesensworld @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @choices97

******

Love makes you do crazy things....

Liam thought back to his and Riley’s relationship since they first met in New York. It all now seemed like distant memories- something that would happen in a rom-com.

“Sorry I’m late. Thank you for your patience, Miss?”

“Uh, Riley.”

“Charmed to make your acquaintance, Riley.”

“Trust me the pleasures all mine. It’s nice to meet you.”

- -

“I’m doing this because... you seemed to need it.”

“That’s so sweet of you. To be honest nobody’s ever done anything like this for me before.”

“And right now looking at this view with you, I feel anything is possible. Thank you for this moment Riley. This feeling... this means more to me than you could ever know. I want you know that I admire you. Your adventurous spirit. The way you follow your heart.....I’m glad to have met you Riley. I’ll never forget this night.”

- -

“Hello. You have to forgive me, but I don’t think we’ve met....”

“Oh. And how does a Prince usually greet a beautiful mystery woman?”

“With a kiss on the hand, I hope. Now I believe I know every other lady here, so your presence is baffling me. I can’t stop my mind from racing. Is she a high ranking aristocrat from a different country? Or a wealthy woman of the world? So who are you? What brings you here?”

“You brought me. I think all the women here tonight are here for you.”

“In a manner of speaking. But no ones ever surprised me yet like this.”

“You’ll be even more surprised when you figure out the truth.”

“And what is that?”

“No guesses yet?”

“Riley... I never thought I’d see you again.”

- -

“And So Lady Riley, we find ourselves alone together.”

“So it would seem.”

“I’m sorry I had to cut our conversation short earlier.”

“It’s a busy night for you, I’m sure...”

“And yet, the only person I’ve been thinking about all night is you.”

“Liam you wanted to talk?”

“I want to be alone with you. There are things I need to tell you, but it’s more than that.”

“Oh?”

“Yes I want to do more than talk. The truth is Lady Riley, I’m done waiting. I want you.”

“Liam...”

“If you feel the same way, that is.”

It then dawned on him when he truly lost her- due to the scandal, due to his lack of ability in making his own choices.

“We need to talk. You’re an engaged man.”

“Yes of course, it’s just. Damn Lady Riley, how I’ve missed you.”

“Liam, you never should’ve let me go.”

“I wish I hadn’t.”

“Madeline and I have a understanding. She knows I’m not in love with her.”

“She does?”

“Yes. And she simply doesn’t care.”

“So does that make me your mistress?”

“Hardly. It makes you the woman I love.”

Throughout the engagement tour Liam wished that Riley was by his side as his Queen, not the poisonous snake. His memory of her asking if she would be a mistress, hurt him deeply. She never understood that, she was the woman he loved and wanted to spend eternity with. He could understand her not wanting to degrade herself to that status. It was selfish of him to think that she would even consider it. Every effort he made to be close to her, to have her in his arms again failed. He failed her.

“Liam, how many times do I need to tell you? I am not being your mistress! Stop trying to arrange secret rendezvous’s please. I’m not sleeping with you. I’m not getting close to you. You are getting married soon. You let me go and broke my heart. You chose this. I love you, I really do but I can only love you as a friend at this moment in time. My head is all over the place. I need time to think and breathe. I can’t do this, I’m sorry.”

“Riley please. I will call off the wedding now. I don’t care about the scandal or the press’s reactions. They are all false accusations, we all know that. We don’t need Tariq to come forward. Please Riley, I love you.”

“No Liam! I’m not having my heart broken over and over again. I’m sorry.”

He had suspicions regarding Drake and Riley. But never believed that they was having a secret relationship, until Olivia confirmed this. Maybe that’s why she wouldn’t meet him, because she was falling for Drake. We both failed her.

Liam knew, if Riley was to recover he had to think of a way to make up for his past mistakes to her.

*****

Drake thought back about his relationship with Riley. The way he called her “Brooks” as a defense mechanism - to show that he didn’t care as much as he did about her. The way she pulled his walls away, one by one. And he still continuously pushed her away. Then he finally broke, and let her in. For him, to push her away again.

Seeing Riley laying there lifeless, he couldn’t understand how much pain she had gone through to do such a thing. Maybe, Maxwell should have left her here in New York- he knew the Cordonian court was vicious and had always warned the newbie about it. Why didn’t he do anything to prevent her becoming such a broken person? Kiara was constantly texting and ringing him- he knew it was wrong to ignore his girlfriend, but right now the mother of his deceased baby needed him more. He let both her and his baby down and will regret it for the rest of his life. Holding her hand, fighting back the tears- his thoughts lingered on how he could fix his relationship with Riley.

*****

“You’re majesty? May we have a word please?”

“Yes, of course.”

“So, after checking Miss Brooks obs- We are going to try and see if she’ll respond to breathing on her own any better than what she has done in the past few days. I should warn you that, if she doesn’t we will have to make a decision...”

“Don’t speak anymore. Please. We are not losing her. She’s a fighter. I know she is... she’s too young...”

“I understand Sir. But we really do need to consider what is best for Miss Brooks. We have tried the last few days- and it hasn’t worked. We are still hopeful though.”

The nurse walked out of the room, after what seemed like an eternity. They had finalised the checks on Riley. Everyone was anxious to know how she was doing.

“So, she’s doing okay at the moment. It can take time though. I assure you, we are doing our very best.”

The nurse pat Liam on the shoulder giving him an encouraging smile. Bertrand and Maxwell had been thinking for a few days now, what the best course of action was for everyone included.

“You’re Majesty?”

“Yes, Duke Ramsford?”

“It has come to my attention that you are required back in Cordonia. Myself and Maxwell, well we thought... Lady Riley is part of our house, she is our responsibility. We will stay here with her. There’s no point in all of us staying here. Everyone should go home, and we will contact you with any news. We will ring you all on daily basis.”

“I can’t leave her like this Bertrand. Please don’t make me leave.”

“With all due respect your Majesty, you are a King and have other responsibilities. Only myself and Max will stay. Take everyone home on the Royal Jet.”

Liam knew Bertrand was speaking the truth. It hurt him thinking about leaving her. Abandoning her in her moment of need.

“I suppose you are right. If she wakes up, can you.. can you...”

“Yes Liam, I will let her know that you’ve been by her side all this time. I promise your Majesty.”

******

Everyone boarded the Royal Jet apart from The Beaumont’s as planned, the journey was mute, as if they were all in the morgue.

On arrival back in the palace, Madeline and Kiara were awaiting- arms folded giving everyone dagger eyes. No one noticed due to the jet lag- it was as if the last few days had been a nightmare- one that they hadn’t woken up from yet.

Kiara was furious with her so called boyfriend ‘abandoning’ her and stormed straight towards Drake’s direction.

“So how is Lady Riley? I assume that’s where you’ve all been. Oui?”

“Probably dead now Ki, hence why they have all finally returned - looking miserable. Haven’t you heard darling? Lady Riley jumped into a river. Attention seeker- the internet tells you everything.”

“Madeline fuck off! I’ve already broken someone’s nose this week! Leave us all alone, you cold hearted bitch!”

Madeline stood there smirking, knowing she had gotten under Olivia’s skin. Anger was raging through Olivia’s body, her face became more and more red. She just wanted to slap that smug expression off Madeline’s face. Her fists clenched and slowly rose, until Drake shook his head at her. His expression pleaded for the Duchess not to play into Madeline’s games. He placed her arm back in line with her waist and gave her a soft smile.

“I agree with Olivia for once. Just leave me alone Kiara- I thought you’d have understood the hint when I didn’t answer any calls. Excuse me Liv.”

“Drake Walker don’t you dare walk away from me again. You are with me now, not Riley!”

“Kiara! I’ll talk to you later.”

Liam snuck off to his quarters, he couldn’t cope with his ex fiancées games or Kiara berating Drake for his whereabouts.

Hitting the bottle, Liam couldn’t cope. He was neither use nor ornament here, he couldn’t concentrate- so how could he continue his King duties? All he kept thinking about was if Riley had managed to breathe on her own yet. He drunk some of the scotch- the frustration of not knowing, made him launch the remainder of the bottle against the wall. The brown liquid slowly spilled down the wall leaving a sticky residue. Please still be fighting Riley.

******

The Beaumont’s stayed with Riley. Not leaving her sight. They needed to stay awake - their eyes were puffy and bloodshot.

“Max I’m just going to get us a coffee. Do you want anything else?”

“No I’m fine, thanks bro.”

Bertrand left Max, feeling guilty that he had to leave Riley even for a five minute coffee run.

“Hey, Riley. It’s just you and me little blossom. What is that fairy tale? Where the Prince kisses the Princess and she wakes up? In fact there’s probably a few of them. Snow White, Sleeping Beauty. You’re our sleeping beauty but I think you’ve had enough sleep now. Time to get up lazy bones. Maxwell the walking and talking alarm clock demands that you get up Ri.”

Maxwell kissed her on the cheek, whilst one hand cupped the other. He didn’t know how much more he could cry, or if there was any tears left in him.

He slumped down on the chair, he really needed to stay awake but was struggling- Bertrand was taking forever getting their coffees. Thinking about it, Bertrand was very specific about his coffee- the staff had probably cocked it up somehow and he was most likely giving them hell for it. Max decided to play I spy, to pass the time away. He felt silly doing this on his own but Bertrand would be back soon- surely.

“I spy with my little eye... something that is worn by the hospital staff- personal protective equipment.”

“Latex gloves?” Maxwell answered to himself grinning and patted himself on the back.

“My turn again... I spy.....”

“M-Max?”

#theroyalromance #bertrand beaumont #choices trr #drakewalker #hanalee #maxwell beaumont #olivia nevrakis #riley brooks #kingliam #drake x riley #liam x riley

48 notes · View notes

dailyaudiobible · 3 years

Text

07/17/2021 DAB Transcript

1 Chronicles 24:1-26:11, Romans 4:1-12, Psalms 13:1-6, Proverbs 19:15-16

Today is the 17th day of July welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I am Brian and it…it's a joy to be here around the Global Campfire with you today. It's an honor and a privilege to take the next step forward together. We’re rounding out a week continuing the journey. We’ve been reading from the Christian Standard Bible this week. Today First Chronicles chapter 24 verse 1 through 26 verse 11.

Prayer:

Father, we thank you for your word and we thank you for another week that we've been gifted with life and the opportunity to be informed by and instructed by your word. And even as we continue this journey through Romans, we thank you for all that we are being taught. Today we’re…were looking at Abraham believing and being counted righteous before you and Paul telling us that that's how it is for everyone. We believe you. We trust you and our sins are no more, no more counted against us, removed as far as the east is from the west. Holy Spirit come and help this truth, this reality, this way of being to sink in, so that we might live free. We pray this in the mighty name of Jesus. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com that is home base, that’s where you find out what’s going on around here.

That's where the Community section is, that's where the Prayer Wall is, all the different links to get connected on social media.

That's where the Daily Audio Shop is. All kinds of resources there for the journey that we are taking through this year and through the Bible together. So, check that out.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio as we navigate the summertime, thank you. Thank you humbly for your partnership. There’s a link on the homepage. If you are using the app, you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or encouragement we are a community that loves to pray for each other. You can just tap the Hotline button in the Daily Audio Bible app, it’s the little red button up at the top or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hi DAB community this is Shellravenel from the DMV your marriage coach here. I wanted to pray for Jillian in particular. She's struggling with some anxiety. And I wanted to reach out and just pray for her because I know what that feels like. I…I too have had challenges with anxiety. I first experienced my anxiety attack if you would back in 2017 – 2018. I had no idea what was going on, so I know what that feels like. And I just want to pray that you Jillian cast all your cares on the Lord, that He cares for you, He does not slumber nor sleep, He's always up, He's always attentive to needs, that He is taking on every issue, every problem, every concern that you have. You don't have to worry and wonder about His ability or about tomorrow or the day after that for each day will take care of its own. So, I pray that the peace of God which surpasses all understanding will be with you. I pray that everything that you're concerned about that God is going to map out the plan for you, that He’s already sent the Holy Spirit to aid and to guide you and that you have your family around you. I pray that your mind is renewed in the name of Jesus. Let this mind be with you that it just also in Christ Jesus, when those thoughts come, self-sabotaging negative thoughts or worrisome thoughts you automatically give those thoughts unto the Lord and you will leave them there. I just pray that God just does something supernatural within you, supernatural within your mind, your emotions, and your will for it’s in Jesus’ name Amen.

Hey, DABbers this is Nick from Florida. I just wanted to call in in response to Willow from Marietta and Laquita from Vinita OK. Thank you so much for your prayers. It's very encouraging and hopeful for me to know you're out there praying for this situation. I know that God loves you both and He wants you to continue to be a part of this ministry and for His honor and glory. Laquita I also wanted to say to you thank you so much for your prayers and I…I do believe God is going to open a door like you said to reach Beth and show her that God loves her and wants her to be led to salvation. I also wanted to reach out to Margo the missionary to Liberia and her husband to encourage you to let you know you're on the right path and God loves you and He loves what you're doing for His Kingdom. And going through the books of Acts right now the apostle Paul speaks of the joy in suffering. And I think that's what's happening to you right now with your compassion fatigue. I wanted to let you know a couple verses or 6 verses actually to give you encouragement that is first Peter 3:14, first Peter 4:1, first Peter 5:10, second Corinthians 4:17, second Timothy 3:12, and Colossians 1:24. Love you all Dabbers. You have a great day and I'll talk to you next time.

Good evening family this is Soaring on Eagles wings from Canada on July 14th. Kingdom Seeker Daniel I heard your prayer request for LOV and the family after hearing the news of her son’s death. And what a traumatic time this must be for all of you. And, so, I pray for Tanya, Nicole, and Bill senior, their dad and LOV as they go through this period of unexpected pain. Know that God is with you, the comforter, He's there to comfort you and dry your tears. And for KSD, I know you want to go see your son and I pray that God would give you wisdom on what is the right thing to do at this time and so many things are happening. I'm praying for all of you. Susan who has cancer and has now metastasized to her bone. She has a husband Jeff and five kids. I'm praying for them. Someone called in for his sister-in-law from the Philippines who's been diagnosed with colon cancer, and she has a husband and two sons. Father God You're the miracle working God and the healer. Hear the prayers of Your people as they call upon You for your divine intervention and may receive and hear of...

Hey there guys this is Colton Poole, live in Georgia, 13 years old this is my first time calling, actually my first year listening too. So, that's exciting but I started strong in January, January the 1st and I only went to February, I think it was the 5th because school went out of virtual and it got really hard to balance all the schoolwork I was having and also do Daily Audio Bible. And when school got hard I quit listening and that was pretty bad because I know…I know now after listening to a few more on what's the day, July 14th that…well…I should have prayed to the Lord for help during school but I didn't and I…I know my mistake and I'm going to see if I can't get back on and start listening. But yeah, I just wanted to ask for y’alls prayer because I know the DAB community family is just amazing. So, yeah. Thank you.

1 note · View note

padfootagain · 6 years

Text

Ever After... (I)

Seeker

After last Halloween and Sirius’s birthday during which most of you made me all depressed, I need some happy imagine full of denial. Because I’m in denial concerning the Marauders. And the more I was writing this, the more I enjoyed it, so I might make other imagines of the kind, talking about some events in their lives (not appearing in a chronological order).

So beware, this imagine is cute, merry and absolutely not canon, with some Jily and Blackinnon living happily ever after.

Hope you all like it.

Gif not mine

Word Count :4046

The sound of voices woke him up, tearing him away from slumber. Children laughing. Hurried footsteps hitting the wooden floor. A smile formed on his lips at the sounds, and his eyelids fluttered open. He stretched in his bed, before turning towards the woman who was sleeping next to him.

He brushed a strand of her golden hair away from her face, a dreamy smile forming slowly on his lips.

Even after all these years, he wondered how he had managed to be lucky enough to have her by his side.

His calloused fingers brushed against her cheek and she stirred in her sleep, the merry sound of loud waves of laughter reaching her ears and waking her up completely.

She rubbed her eyes, banishing sleep from them, and she smiled at the handsome man by her side.

“Morning Marls,” Sirius grinned, kissing her lips softly.

She snuggled closer to him.

“The kids are up,” she mumbled against the skin of his neck, her morning voice sending delicious shivers through his body.

It was crazy, the way she still affected him so much after years of relationship.

“They are,” Sirius nodded, listening to the laughs that rang through the house again. “And one thing is for sure, they are just as loud as you.”

“I’m not loud, Black.”

“You are though, Black.”

They exchanged a smile.

“I guess we should get up then,” Marlene proposed, but her husband shook his head, wrapping his strong arms around her to make sure that she would stay there, lying close to him in their bed.

“Let them play,” he said, “they’ll come look for us when they’re really hungry anyway.”

Marlene nodded, chuckling.

“You’re right,” she laughed. “They’ll come ask you for pancakes.”

“Or for your waffles.”

“What do you bet that they’ll ask for your pancakes?”

A playful smile appeared on his lips, while she traced the outlines of the lion that was tattooed on his shoulder. His hands travelled across her clothed back to rest on her hips, his fingers sliding under her worn-out T-shirt

“I may have an idea or two,” he said, brushing his lips against hers.

“Oh, do you now?”

He nodded, catching her lower lip between his, and she couldn’t help but close her eyes at the sensation, sighing faintly.

“You know what, let’s make a bet then,” she smirked, a devilish glint now alit in her eyes. “If they come up and ask for your pancakes, we’ll have sex tonight.”

“And if they ask for your waffles?”

“Then… We’ll have sex tonight.”

They both laughed, their kisses made messy by their laughter.

“I like that spirit of yours, Black,” Sirius laughed.

He loved calling her like this, and she knew it. Since the moment she had started to share his name, Sirius had slowly begun to like it. It didn’t remind him of his parents anymore. It reminded him of the life he had built step by step with the blond woman in his arms.

He wasn’t ashamed or bitter to be called Black anymore.

“I know you do,” Marlene laughed, kissing his chin.

“We can’t be late today though,” he said, checking the alarm clock on their bedside table. “It’s the big day for Harry today.”

Marlene rolled her eyes.

“James and Lily are exaggerating.”

Sirius raised an amused eyebrow.

“Don’t make me believe that if one of our kids is part of a Quidditch team one day, you won’t go hysterical and insist on going to Hogwarts to see the match.”

She opened her mouth to answer, but she couldn’t deny it. He was right. So she merely shrugged instead, making him laugh.

Suddenly, the footsteps became louder as the children were approaching from their parents’ bedroom, and Marlene winked at Sirius.

“Let’s see who wins then,” she said, her one challenging.

“We’ll both win anyway,” Sirius chuckled.

They both listened as the children were now trying to approach the room as silently as possible.

The door of their bedroom slowly opened, and a dark-haired girl appeared, peering discretely inside the room.

“You’re already up!” Sirius smiled.

The girl opened the door wide, and hurried to climb on her parents’ bed, quickly followed by her little brother.

“We were coming to wake you up,” she said, settling between her parents as Marlene and Sirius both made room for the two children.

“We’re hungry!” the little blond boy nodded, resting his head on Sirius’s chest.

“What would you like for breakfast?” Marlene asked, sending a mischievous glance at Sirius.

“PANCAKES!” the two children exclaimed.

The two adults laughed.

“Dad, please!” the girl pleaded. “Please, make us pancakes!”

“Yes, daddy, please…” her brother added, and the two children gave Sirius puppy eyes, trying to break his will.

Marlene rolled her eyes.

“You have the same puppy eyes as your dad,” she smiled.

“They learnt from the best,” Sirius laughed, winking mischievously at his children. “And of course I’ll make you pancakes, but only if I have a giant hug.”

The two children laughed, both of them wrapping their arms around his neck and kissing his cheeks covered by a short beard.

“I think it’s worth some pancakes,” he nodded, laughing as he sat up and kissed his two children on the head. “You want to prepare breakfast with me?”

“Can we put some blueberry in the pancakes?” the little boy asked.

“I’ll check if we have some. Come on, Arthur,” Sirius smiled as he waited next to the door for his son to follow him outside.

The little boy yawned, rubbing his eyes before hopping down the bed, and Sirius picked him up, carrying him down the stairs.

In the kitchen, his daughter had picked up his wand…

“Amira, put that down,” he said, his voice very serious all of a sudden.

“But dad, I’ll soon be eleven…”

“You haven’t received your letter yet, so put my wand down. Now, young girl.”

She mumbled something under her breath about being constantly considered as a young child, before putting down her father’s wand on the table again.

“Don’t give us that face,” Marlene warned her as she pouted and crossed her arms before her chest. “Your father is right.”

Sirius put down his son on the ground again.

“Now, now… come on, princess,” he smiled, clearly amused by his daughter. “Give me a smile.”

“No!”

He raised an eyebrow, tickling her arms, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Ha, here is my ray of sunshine. Here’s my little princess!” Sirius exclaimed, laughing as well.

He picked up his wand, summoning the ingredients he would need to prepare breakfast.

“Daddy?” the little boy asked almost shyly. “Are we going to Hogwarts with mummy and you today?”

“Of course, we’ll see Harry play!” Sirius nodded, mixing the ingredients.

“Do you think that I’ll play Quidditch too when I’m at Hogwarts?”

“Of course, if you want to.”

“I hope I’ll be sorted in Gryffindor, just like you.”

Sirius suddenly froze, and Marlene could see shining tears suddenly appearing in his eyes. He kissed the top of his son’s head again, his lips tickled by the boy’s golden hair.

“I’ll always be proud of you, no matter your house, okay Arthur?” Sirius whispered.

The boy nodded, stealing some blueberries from the bowl Sirius was still holding in his hand.

Marlene wrapped her arms around her husband from behind, dropping sweet kisses on his shoulder blade.

“You’re okay, Sirius?”

He nodded slowly, brushing the tears away from his eyes, his throat too tight for him to speak.

“I love you,” she whispered in his ear. “And our kids are amazing.”

He nodded again, smiling now. He sniffed.

“I feel lucky,” he admitted.

“Me too.”

He wrapped his arm around her, and captured her lips in a tender kiss.

Until Amira heaved a sigh.

“Come on! Stop playing the lovebirds over there! We’re starving here!”

Both Sirius and Marlene laughed, resuming the preparation of their breakfast.

And they both felt like they were living in heaven.

———————————————————-

“James Fleamont Potter, I swear by Merlin’s beard, if you don’t stop pacing, I’ll petrify you.”

James ran a hand through his dark hair, messing it even more than before.

“Lils…”

“They’re probably all on their way, relax,” the ginger woman smiled.

“I can’t believe our son is going to play his first match today,” James grinned, on a little cloud. “And he joined the team in his first year!”

“I know, love. I know.”

“DAAAAAAAD!”

Both Lily and James spun around to see their youngest daughter run to them. She was crying.

“What’s wrong, baby?” James asked softly, bending to pick her up in his arms.

“There’s a spider in my bedroom! And it’s HUGE!”

“Don’t worry, here I come!” James laughed, picking up his wand and walking to his daughter’s bedroom.

“Rose didn’t help me at all!” the little girl complained.

“Perhaps Rose is scared too.”

Indeed, another ginger girl was standing before the door of her sister’s bedroom.

“It’s huge, dad!” she exclaimed, pointing at the big dark spider that was walking across the room.

James put down his daughter on the ground, and with a mere flick of his wand, he got rid of the animal.

“Here, no spider. You can go back to your bedroom now, Poppy.”

While James was saving his two daughters from the spider that had invaded their bedroom, Remus was brushing the dust off of his worn-out coat and stepping out of the hearth in the Potters’ living room.

“How are you, Rem?” Lily asked, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Fine. Hope I’m not late.”

“James is going mad.”

“I thought he would. It’s normal Lils, you know how much Quidditch is important for him. After all, he’s a professional Chaser!”

“No need to remind me. Don’t forget that I watch all his match.”

They both laughed, James finally reappearing in the living room, and he grinned at the sight of his friend.

“Moony! Merlin, I was starting to think that you would all be late!”

But seconds later, Peter was stepping out of the chimney as well.

“How are you, Wormtail?” James smiled, giving his old friend a hug.

“Perfect! I brought everything we’ll need!” he said, showing proudly his bag full of Gryffindor flags, gold and red scarves and other items they could use to cheer and support Harry.

“Wonderful, thanks, Pete!” Lily smiled, taking the bag from him.

“And of course, Pads and Marls are late…” James sighed, crossing his arms before his chest.

“They’re not late yet. And they have kids to manage, remember.”

“You mean that they have their hormones to manage,” James mumbled, and Lily playfully swatted him on the shoulder, laughing.

But they didn’t have to wait for long for the rest of their friends to step out of the hearth as well.

“You’re late, Pads!” James complained, giving his brother a warm hug.

“Five minutes! And it’s not my fault, it’s Amira’s. She couldn’t find her scarf.”

Lily called for her daughters, and James helped her to get the girls ready.

“I want to say it. I can do it alone!” Amira insisted when they had to step into the hearth again.

“And what if you mess it up and end up on the other side of the coutry? How are we supposed to find you back?” Marlene shook her head.

“But one of you can come with me but I speak. So I won’t be alone even if I fuck it up.”

“Language!”

“She has a point though,” Sirius smiled.

Marlene heaved a sigh.

“She’s just as reckless and rebellious as you…”

“She’s also as stubborn and beautiful as you,” Sirius winked at his wife, making her laugh.

“Alright, you both go first then, and Arthur and I will follow close.”

Amira hurried to step into the hearth again, grabbing a handful of Floo Powder, and Sirius held her hand, laughing softly.

“Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” the girl said clearly.

And a second later, she and her father found themselves in the Headmaster’s office, Dumbledore and McGonagall smiling at them.

Sirius and Dumbledore shook hands.

“Minnie!” Sirius exclaimed, hugging McGonagall, who could only chuckle in answer.

“It’s good to see you again too,” the teacher smiled, before turning to the girl by his side. “Hello, Amira. How are you?”

“I’m fine, Professor.”

“I reckon you should receive your letter this summer, right?”

The girl grinned, nodding frantically.

“She’s very excited about it,” Sirius smiled.

“I hope you won’t be as… mischievous as your father was at your age.”

“I’m afraid she is,” Marlene laughed, hugging the teacher as well.

“Oh, Merlin, have mercy…” McGonagall, sighed, making the couple laugh.

“Minnie!” James screamed, hurrying to McGonagall and giving her a warm kiss on the cheek.

“Oh… James,” she laughed.

But Remus and Peter had the same reaction, and the old teacher received quite a lot of hugs…

“Let’s go, the match will soon start. The children must already be at the Quidditch Pitch.”

“I heard that you are responsible for my son to be in the team,” James told McGonagall, smiling as they all walked out of the Headmaster’s office.

“He was breaking the rules, not very surprising for your son,” she said, an amused glint alit in her eyes. “But he did an impressive pirouette on his broomstick.”

“Thank you for taking him in the team.”

“Well, he’s talented. Who knows… it must run in the family, right?”

They exchanged a smile, and walked through the school.

Sirius and Marlene were chatting with Remus and Peter, and it felt strange. Sirius felt like he was coming home. It was both sweet and bitter, a bit melancholic and yet warm and reassuring. He had spent lovely years here. He knew he owed this school and the people he had met there his life. He would have never survived and overcome his childhood without the friends he met in this Castle, without the woman with whom he walked now hand in hand.

The children were in awe. They had never been to Hogwarts before, and let’s be honest, they were impressed by the large halls, and cold stones and the grounds that seemed so large, as if they had no ends.

Arthur walked closer to his father as they walked before a strange statue of an old and twisted witch.

“You’re okay?” Sirius asked.

But Arthur took his father’s hand.

“It’s so big here,” he breathed.

“Well, it is. And you’re little as well, you’re just six!”

Poppy had the same scared expression on her face, and James picked up the five-year-old in his arms and kissed her cheek.

“It’s great here, you’ll see,” he reassured her.

She rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes still wide with a mix of wonder and fear, and James merely chuckled in answer.

The closer they were from the Quidditch Pitch, the more James and Lily were smiling. There was a proud and happy glint alit in their hazel and green eyes, and they were eager to see their son.

They insisted on seeing Harry before the match, and so they all walked through the passages hidden all around the Quidditch Pitch.

When he saw his son standing there, holding tightly his Nimbus 2000 in his little hands, his jet black hair a mess and his round glasses lopsided on his nose, all dressed in red and gold, James was so proud that he struggled not to cry.

Harry turned around at the sound of footsteps behind him, and a grin crossed his face at the sight of his family.

“Mum! Dad!” he cried, rushing towards them, and both Lily and James hugged him tightly. “You made it! You came!”

“Of course we came! How could we miss your first match?” Lily laughed.

James bent down to be face to face with Harry, and he stared at his son. He dived into these eyes he loved so much, the same as Harry’s mother…

“Are you nervous?” he asked.

Harry nodded, tightening his hold on his broomstick.

“It’s normal, I threw up before my first match,” James smiled reassuringly.

“You did?”

James nodded.

“Stay focused. There’s lots of noise out there, lots of people screaming, don’t take care of them. You just have to stay away from the bludgers, and look for the Snitch. Okay?”

Harry nodded.

“Just do your best. I’m proud of you,” James grinned, pulling his son against him again, before ruffling his already-messy hair.

“Now, go catch this bloody Snitch,” James smiled, letting go of Harry.

Lily held him against her as well.

“We’re so proud of you, I’m sure you’ll be great,” she said.

“Thanks, mum.”

He hugged his sisters as well, along with Remus, Peter and Marlene, before turning towards his godfather.

“Go on, buddy. You’ll be amazing,” Sirius winked. “And as long as you can remain on your broom more than ten minutes, you’ll do better than your dad on his first match.”

“Padfoot!” James protested, but Sirius merely laughed in response.

“Dad stayed only for ten minutes on his broom?” he asked.

“Yes, until he was hit by a bludger, he broke his arm and spent two weeks in the Hospital Wing,” Remus nodded.

Harry couldn’t help but laugh.

“So go on, show your dad what it means to do a good first match, okay?” Sirius smiled, giving Harry a high-five.

Harry nodded, smiling by now, and he walked back towards the team, as Oliver Wood was calling for him.

“We should hurry, or we’ll miss the beginning of the match,” Peter said, turning around.

James sniffed, taking off his glasses and wiping the tears away from his hazel eyes.

“Our son is great,” he whispered as Lily took his hand in his.

“He is,” she nodded. “Just like you.”

But James shook his head, cupping tenderly his wife’s cheek.

“Just like you.”

They kissed, before joining their friends as they walked away from the Quidditch team to take their seat.

—————————————————————

“Dad, can I have a flag too?”

“Of course, here you go, Rosie,” James smiled, taking a Gryffindor flag from Peter’s bag and giving it to his daughter.

“Mum, when is it suppose to start?”

“Soon, Poppy,” Lily shrugged, finishing to attach her daughter’s red hair in a long braid.

“Dad, I can’t see anything…”

Sirius picked up his son and held him in his arms.

“Better?”

The boy nodded, resting his head against his father’s shoulder.

“You’re not going to fall asleep, right?” Sirius smiled.

But Arthur shook his head, his grey eyes meeting his father’s.

“I want to encourage Harry,” he said.

“You want a little flag?”

The boy nodded, and Marlene gave him a Gryffindor flag.

Sirius looked at his daughter who was wrapping her golden and red scarf around her neck.

“You’re okay, princess? Can you see everything?” he asked softly.

But Amira nodded, smiling excitedly.

“It feels just like watching one of uncle James’ match!” she grinned. “When I’m at Hogwarts, I’ll try to enter the Quidditch team as well.”

Sirius grinned.

“What position would you apply for?” he asked.

“Beater. Just like you, dad.”

For the second time that day, Sirius felt like he was about to cry, his heart so full of love and happiness he was certain it was going to either melt or explode.

His children looking up at him as an example was always making him feel this way. Like he had been good enough for them. He had always been so afraid to be a bad father, to make his children sad, just like he used to be as a kid. But this kind of comments from his children was the proof that he had been good enough for them. And it meant the world to him…

He bent down to drop a kiss on his daughter’s head.

“I guess we should practice more then,” he said, “so you can be ready when you come to Hogwarts.”

She nodded enthusiastically.

But then it was time to begin the match, and Lee Jordan introduced the two teams.

When Harry flew up in position, all he could hear was his family cheering up for him.

“GO ON HARRY!”

“KICK THEIR ASS!”

“JAMES!”

“SORRY… GO HARRY!”

Soon they were cheering in unison, and shouting his name in rhythm, and Harry was not nervous at all anymore.

Every time a bludger was flying a bit too close to Harry or a player was pushing him, Lily was holding on James’s arm as if her life depended on it. And every time James was focused and silent, waiting for the storm of fear that messed up with his stomach to pass.

But then Harry spotted the Snitch, and he dived towards the golden ball.

“Did he see it?” Remus asked, bending over the banister to get a better view.

“I think so,” Peter nodded excitedly.

“Yeah! There! Look!” Marlene exclaimed, pointing at the Snitch.

Soon it was a chase throughout the pitch between the two Seekers, and Lily was shouting so loudly, her throat was painful.

“GO HARRY!”

“HARRY YOU CAN DO IT!”

They were soon chanting his name in unison again.

And Harry was so close to the Snitch, but he couldn’t catch it. The other Seeker was out, lying on the ground, but Harry, couldn’t… his fingers were just inches away.

Until he hurried further on and a few seconds later he was landing in a hurry, looking as if he was about to be sick, his hands resting on his mouth. No one had seen what had happened, but he didn’t seem well…

“HARRY!” Lily screamed, horrified.

James’s eyes were wide, and he held on Lily just as tightly as she held on him. But he stopped her as she made a movement to run to her son. Harry was standing up again, and he looked like he was about to throw up…

But then he spit out the golden snitch, catching it in hands.

And everyone cheered, but the ones who cheered the loudest were Harry’s family, and above the deafening shouts, he was certain that he could hear their voices screaming and their hands clapping. Seconds later, the rest of his team was carrying him above the ground, cheering. But soon he saw his father and mother running throughout the pitch, and he forced the players to put him down, before rushing to his parents.

“I did it! I caught it!”

James caught his son in his arms, sweeping him off of his feet.

“I knew you would!” he laughed, kissing his son and holding the boy close to him.

“Mum, did you see this! I caught the Snitch!”

“Of course I saw it, sweetheart. You scared me actually. Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine, mum.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m great!”

“Congrats, buddy,” Sirius grinned, ruffling Harry’s hair. “You sure did better than our dear Prongs here.”

They all laughed.

“Come on, let’s celebrate!” James exclaimed. “Wormtail, get the butterbeers and the firewhiskey!”

“James, they are kids, they can’t drink alcohol,” Lily protested.

He finally put down Harry on the ground again.

“Well, Lils, don’t act like you never got drunk on one of our parties,” he smiled. “After all, you kissed me for the first time because of it.”

“No need to remind me,” she laughed, blushing.

James laughed, turning towards the students around him.

“Come on, kids! To the Common Room! The drinks are on me!”

The students cheered, and they all started to walk to the Castle.

Marlene kissed Sirius’s cheek.

“What was that for, Black?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She shrugged.

“Ready for a party in the Common Room then?” she winked mischievously.

“I’m always ready for this kind of things, and you know it,” he laughed.

“But we can’t leave the party too late tonight,” she said.

“Really? Why not? Getting tired grandma?”

But she shook her head, her voice husky now.

“We made a bet this morning, remember?”

Sirius’s heart skipped a beat, and a crooked smirk formed on his lips.

“Of course then… you do have a good argument, here, Black.”

“I think so too, Black.”

“Let’s stay here for a couple of beers, and then head back home, eat a pizza and put the children to bed…”

“Yeah, and then… I want us under the covers too.”

They exchanged a smile, and he took her hand, kissing her temple.

“I love you, Black,” he said softly.

She smiled, looking up at him with tender eyes.

“I love you too, Black.”

*******************************

Tag List : @geeksareunique, @giggleberts, @justanothermaraudersblog, @sad-orange-thoughts, @aylinnmaslow, @haritini2000, @ladyblablabla, @drinix, @joelynnp.

168 notes · View notes

dread-wolf-walking · 6 years

Text

Pride and Honor

The 3000+ words that got me stuck in this hell

Solas x Nevas Lavellan

One Shot, for now

Warnings: Angst (SO MUCH), Sorrow, Implied Harm, Implied Mind Control, Implied Suicide, PTSD-ish, Psychological Warfare/Torture, Spirits, plus more content heavy in the mental sense. You have been warned

I’m so nervous posting this, it has been sitting doing nothing for months!

‘Everyone is doing something, they are all out there, trying to make this world a better place…..and what am I doing? Sulking in the darkest pit of my mind, having lost my love and all my friends…..The Dread Wolf took everything, without even knowing. And yet, why am I still trying to change his mind?’

A hand clasped over a worn and pale face moved to pinch the bridge of her nose, eyes closed, creasing as though in pain. It was not physical torment, but mental. The other hand propped against the table, palm flat against the surface. A map of Thedas was rolled open over the table, markers indicating scouting patterns, the state of war across the country shown by two swords in an ‘x’ shape where armies had clashed, the bulk of which encircled Tevinter.

All this caused her grief, there was so much to do and so little she could help with.

The hand against the table curled into a fist as the other sought to shield her eyes, tears at the corners threatening to stream down her face. “War is everywhere, and no one understands the real threat, yet again. How do I protect a world that doesn’t see what is hiding in the shadows?”

The Dread Wolf had indulged her of his plans to tear down the veil, burning the world she knew to re-build the world he lost. He had laiden her with this knowledge, knowing full well she was the only one who had a chance to stop him. But, he also knew her mind would fight against her, warring over what was right, in which would give him time to lay his plans. He loved her dearly of course, but he had a duty to his people, to fix his mistakes.

He suffered almost as much as her. But She would never know.

“Lavellan?” A figure in the doorway, paused for a moment as they took in the sight of an Elf weeping. It was not a scolding tone, but one of concern that came next, “You should be sleeping.” Cassandra rounded the table, standing beside Nevas, a hand on her shoulder for comfort.

“Everytime I sleep, he is there…” She said with an angry cry. “I’m exhausted, afraid if I blink he will be there. I can’t focus while awake because of this lack of sleep,” Nevas cursed Fen’Harel, “It’s madness! I can’t take a step without the world looking, and I can’t bare them to see me…..” Tears rolled down the pale face as she buried her face in the Seeker’s shoulder. An odd spot to find herself, had she not known the Elf and considered her a great friend her reaction would have been less warm. She wrapped an arm around the smaller woman without a word and let Nevas weep, maybe this would give her strength to push forward, even if it was just a few steps.

There had always been an enormous weight on Lavellan’s shoulders ever since she met her, the founding of the Inquisition as a Dalish Elf bearing a mark of unknown magic, becoming the leader of The Inquisition before taking down an Magister bent on Godhood. It wasn’t fair that even now, after they had saved the world, there was still so much Thedas asked of her friend. With the Inquisition disbanded however, their help was too little, and before long those that had sung them praise now shunned them, sneering that the once Great Dragon Inquisitor had fallen from Grace.

Once a Hero, now, a traitor to the world.

Now they were a small band of rebels trying to reach out to an Ancient Elf bent on burning the world to bring in the next. Cassandra had wondered if he was worth saving when they found out he was the Trickster God of Elven tales, thought to be only a symbol of legend to scare young elven children. Lavellan had begged them to find a way to change his mind, and at first it seemed to be working. Rarely did they find resistance to their cause, but little did they know Solas had been undermining their efforts, plucking the strings they had not noticed. Only a few months since The Exalted Council too; Nevas told them how he visited her in her dreams, The Fade and teased her heart, only to betray her again. Thedas was turned on them like a poisoned dagger from the shadows.

Love was a wicked thing and though her friend battled a Great Dragon, becoming a Reaver and had roared in the face of The Darkspawn Magister, Love brought everyone to their knees. She wondered if Solas had felt the same clawing desperation as Nevas did now.

The Seeker sighed heavily, “Shall we go over what we have found?” She asked gently.

Nevas was still trembling against the other woman, but she lifted her head to nod. Cassandra shifted the smaller woman to her side, but kept one arm wrapped around her shoulders; a warmth only those close to her knew. Something The Seeker rarely had granted to her; warriors carried their honor, strung high from those around them; offering this closeness to a fellow warrior was the least she could do.

“Most city Elves and those serving in Orlais have feld, those that were in service to The Inquisition also disappeared. Leliana’s contacts said they were heading towards dense forests said to hide Elven Ruins.” The Seeker pointed to parts on the map as she spoke, making sure Nevas was watching. The elf had wiped her tears away, but it was still clear the sadness was clutching onto her heart. Cassandra cleared her throat and continued. “Solas has gone completely now since your dream, but his agents remain everywhere. We believe he is trying to find more Foci, similar to the one that was destroyed two years ago. Both Fereldan and Orlais are in shambles, trying to fend off rogue attacks, each blaming the other; they are on the brink of war. Tevinter is trying to hold against the Qunari, there are heavy losses on both sides it seems, but Dorian is making progress with the artifacts they have found in ruins..”

The Seeker’s voice started to fade, sounding distant as she continued. Nevas looked up at her friend, but found the image blurred almost. A frown pulled at her brows as she reached for the other with both hands, as though to see if she was really there. A twinge of panic filled her mind, something certainly wasn’t right, her eyes darted from Cassander to her hands; there was only meant to be one, wasn’t there?

Or atleast even a device that Dagna had made?

Cassandra seemed completely oblivious, still speaking over their plans, even as her hands started to shake and teeth ground against themselves. Nevas flung herself at The Seeker believing herself to be trapped inside this memory and that a Demon was impersonating her friend, instead she fell through her image, like mist and tumbled onto the ground. She snarled, reaching for a dagger with the arm Dagna had made to strike again when her eyes caught her own image, now with a single arm, still beside Cassandra and faulted.

“What…” Nevas whimpered. If it wasn’t a Demon controlling her memory, then what was happening? And why had she started this memory with her arm in tact?

Cassandra and her double played out the memory without a mistake, citing major plans to attack trade routes and intercept spies. Nevas felt her anger rising, frustrated she couldn’t do anything; she went to the door an attempt to leave but was meet with a invisible wall. Growling Dalish curses, she ventured across the room, fingers curling into a fist as she punched forward, hoping the break the wall. Again, she was met with a force that stopped the memory from being broken. She was trapped within her own mind?

“They are using Eluvians to move quickly across Thedas, but Leliana might have some ideas on where these mirrors are hiding.” She heard Cassandra say, a slight chuckle at the end of her words. “There are also whispers of a temple hiding a powerful artifact of your people…..”

Somewhere within the memory, a voice whispered for more, as though watching from a place unseen.

Nevas looked up to find the source of the whisper, but it was darkness above her; shouldn’t there be a ceiling there? The Elf stepped back from the wall, ignoring the pair still staring at the map, trying to see if there was a way out above her. She threw small stones she fumbled for and while they did not hit anything, they did not come back down either. There was a flicker of hope, an idea, if this was a memory, her memory, maybe she could change it. No harm in trying.

She calmed herself, breathing in deeply as she closed her eyes, envisioning the particular memory playing out before her. Starting off small, Nevas sort to change the clothing she had worn, sure it had been Dalish Leathers rather than her nightdress, her hair pulled back into a braid rather than a messy, unbrushed nest. She even imaged Cassandra with long hair rather than her short almost shaved style.

After a moment deliberating with herself and certain of her thoughts, Nevas slowly opened one eye, only to gasp at the memory now before her. It had changed. Her clothes and hair; Cassandra looked rather dazzling with long black hair pulled high to fall from the top of her head.

Without another thought, her eyes closed again, and she set to work changing everything she remembered, being sure it was her own memory. The map disappeared in a flame of embers as did the table, though the pair standing before it didn’t miss a beat until Nevas thought otherwise. The scene of the dank dungeon fell from around them, twisting into the ground before the ghosts of her mind did the same. Nevas’s still had her eyes shut tightly as she remembered nothing but a black void without sound, not even the whispers from the Well of Sorrows sung to her.

There was an angry snarl unseen, it ripped through her being, however, her eyes snapping wide open looking for whatever had made such a terrifying noise. A pair of red eyes shone in front of her making her very soul shake as the slitted pupils focused on her. Nevas bared her own teeth in retaliation, instinct kicking in, and dagger held in her only hand ready to defend herself. Though such an image would frighten most, Dalish especially, she sought to fight against that which trapped her here.

“Clever little Warrior,” came a voice she knew, “But you cannot simply forget everything you know!”

Pain pressed hard against her mind, she cried out, writhing against the pressure. Harder and harder still it pushed, as though two hands clung to her head and sought to wring her memories like water from a wet towel. The void filled with images, memories playing back, voices whispered from each. Nevas struggled against the invisible force, teeth grinding to try and hold back more of her mind slipping from her hold. The voice was right, she couldn’t simply remove her memories, not without losing what made her, but it was the only way she could stop who-ever it was from taking what they were after. Every memory that was pulled before her she blacked out, one from her childhood, a couple of past mistakes, but when it came to her time as The Inquisitor, she couldn’t…..

“If you just let me see what I want, it wouldn’t hurt. Nor would I have to tumble through all of them.” The voice whispered, as a smaller pair of eyes opened above the larger set, glistening ruby. But pain meant she was still alive, pain made people stronger, and she would not give in to the promise before her, even as four blood red focused on her with a cold glare. These memories however….

She couldn’t bring herself to forget those years. She reached for the voices from The Well, pleading them to tell her what was happening; her mind lingered on the memory that was her drinking from The Well. Solas had begged her not to drink from it, her love had said nothing more on the matter, his voice a hard edge and expression cold, but she did anyway. Bound to Mythal for all time, her actions all for the Lost Elvhen God. Whispers started as mist to her response, but before she could hear them clearly they were silenced and she felt her bond with them burn.

“That is not my will, Vhenan!” The voice hissed, another pair of eyes opening just below the first, however smaller, the intensity in which they held her was still the same. The Voices were pained for a moment, yet she could not understand their murmurings. Again, she tugged for more, her eyes shut tightly as a hand clutched at her temple. If only she could just focus!

She cried out as a seething burn flashed within her, the bond with Mythal subduing her again. That voice had not been Mythal’s, but Solas’s? The Well cried foul, how could The Dread Wolf use the bond to Mythal? How could he sully that bond!? How dare he use it to his own wishes! Mythal surely did not live on through Fen’Harel!

A maul of jagged teeth opened below the eyes, fangs of the wolf. A cold breath dusted over her form, as though Fen’Harel’s breath bore a blizzard.

The Dread Wolf had come to claim her memories, but why!?

“Show me what you know, Vhenan!” Solas’s voice raged around her as the jaws of the wolf opened wide, as though he was about to devour her.

Images of him leaving her by the large eluvian flashed before her, Nevas felt her body stiffen from that memory, that pain. And so The Dread Wolf broke her defences, able to sift through her mind like sand; the pace in which she saw her memories quickened before settling on one very recent. Nevas stood with Morrigan surrounded by rubble from a ruin since taken over by the forest, but what lay before them was what the Dread Wolf was after. Her ghost image reached out to touch the orb cradled within the hands of statute, one that depicted Falon’Din, but Morrigan pushed her hand away as the orb hummed, pulling the magic within the long forgotten temple towards it. Her Reaver blood burned with rage, “No! Solas!” She roared and in her attempt to halt her mind, Nevas clutched tightly at a dagger she held and positioned the tip of the blade against her temple. Almost instantly, the ghosts of her memory turned to mist and the pressure within her head faulted, leaving completely. She could not allow him to see the rest, even if the bond she had to Mythal ignited within her chest.

“Mythal lives within me now!” Solas called, frustrated, “You are bound to Mythal’s will, my will! Please, I do not wish to push harder, but, I will see what I want!”

“You will see nothing if I am dead, Fen’Harel!” Her voice snapped, laced with a bitter coldness as the blade tip pressed harder against her.

“I can’t let you do that!” The wolf snapped it’s jaw shut, but Solas’s voice growled.

“I will be dead before you can press further!” Nevas spat, tears in her eyes, as her fingers tightened around the blade and started to press it harder to her temple. Pain blossomed forth as did her blood as the tip pressed against her skull, though before she could plunge blade to cease her memories another voice whispered to her. Not from the Well, not Solas’s, a new one.

“Da’len, stay your hand!.” It cried, “Your soul will be a slave to The Fade if you die here!”

“How many seek my memories!?” She growled, her eyes opening to gaze back at the six in front of her. Nevas’s sneer dropped as her gaze focused at the ethereal hand placed against her chest, she felt another against her forehead. In a moment of panic, she struggled to move her head until she looked to her side, and saw someone beside her.

Now she knew why the Avvar seemed so puzzled when questioned about their mages keeping bonds with a spirit.

“A spirit?! Leave this place!” Solas’s voice demanded. His tone hinted that the spirit did not wish her memories, but was here to help her, protect her?

“I cannot leave her!” It called back, sounding like many voices speaking at voice, “But you did, Dread Wolf! The pain you cause, you carry the burden of your people, but you shame them with what you are doing to her.”

“Who are you!” Nevas whispered, almost sobbing again as the Dread Wolf howled in response. The spirit shone bright, aura the same shades of blue and red within her own eyes, before moving to stand behind the Elf. The ghostly hands now placed at her shoulders, squaring her off to gaze back at the Dread Wolf still haunting her mind. However, her fingers still held the dagger against her temple, though she trembled.

“We share the same name, Da’len…..” The spirit spoke softly now, trying to calm her. “And I won’t let you die here, neither will he….”

The dagger fell from her hand, becoming sand within the void, as did the spirit. They faded downwards, her eyes watched them for a moment before looking back upto six that still focused on her. The spirit was right, Solas did not wish for her to walk to her death here; not in the way The Dalish believed the Dread Wolf would; to be lead to the void, trapped forever.

The blood red eyes closed leaving her to the void of her own mind for a moment before her own closed, exhausted and wounded, even as her blood burned for a fight, she just wanted some rest.

“Wake up.” Solas whispered, igniting a memory she wished would leave her alone.

26 notes · View notes

novamm66 · 6 years

Text

Red Sky in the Morning; Chapter I

So here it is. The reason why my artwork has slowed down and my pic-lits stalled. They morphed into something bigger.

I want to say a heartfelt thank you to @scottishvix @littlesnowarrow @slothquisitor @lechatrouge673 & @x-elfled-x who encouraged supported me to get this far. I have the biggest heart eyes for you.

You can find it on AO3 here.

Seeker Pentaghast was angry. In fact, she was past angry and was coming up on absolute white-hot rage. The feeling of uselessness was gnawing at her spirit. Three days ago, she had returned from her attempt to find Hawke with Varric Tethras in tow; a dwarf with a smart mouth who wouldn't know a straight answer if you stabbed him with it. Two days ago, the conclave had exploded and the world that Cassandra knew disappeared. Her rage was keeping her grief and exhaustion at bay, but that wouldn’t last much longer. There was nothing to be done but wait, fight and pray. So she did just that, waiting to see if the only survivor of the disaster at the conclave, who was clinging to life in the cells below the Chantry, would wake up.

Cassandra snorted in disgust as she reached the end of the room they had commandeered in the Chantry. She angrily glared at the book titles on the shelves in front of her. Finding nothing helpful or distracting, she turned to pace back once more. The trip to recover the mysterious woman had done much to work off the anger and fear Cassandra first felt after the Breach had appeared. Then the waiting had begun. She had passed the last two days fighting, watching the prisoner writhe in pain in the cells, and pacing the room that had become their headquarters. She lost count of the number of times she had made the trip past Leliana poring over reports at the table. Soon it would be time for her to replace Commander Cullen on the front lines leading the soldiers. Cassandra snorted. Sleep was for the weak.

The prisoner has to survive. She has to fix this. Or answer for it.

The Seeker kept pacing.

Leliana was cold and clinical in her anger. Her inability to find anything on the cause of the explosion was not improving her state of mind. She would find out who was responsible, who killed the Most Holy, and she would make them pay in the only way she knew how.

The information on the prisoner was only slightly better. Leliana examined the report in front of her again, looking for anything unlikely she had missed. She had argued for days with Divine Justinia about allowing her scouts to do backgrounds and follow the attending parties coming to the conclave. Leliana had known that tensions would be high and well informed is well armed so she had pressed the argument. But even with all of the information that Leliana had gathered, she had more questions than she started with.

The prisoner had arrived as an official member of the Ostwick Circle; the name on the registry was Evelyn Trevelyan, but the description of the woman who left Ostwick under that name didn’t match the physical traits of the woman downstairs. The report showed that the delegation sailed on time but the boat had arrived 2 days late, not uncommon with the storms on the Waking Sea. It seemed that the woman who got off the boat in West Hill was not the same one who had gotten on and that was worrisome.

Leliana drummed her fingers on the table in counterpoint to Cassandra's pacing as she tried to think of all the possibilities to fill the holes in the prisoner’s timeline.

Their heads snapped up as the door was pushed open by the apostate elf that arrived offering assistance, shortly after the Breach ripped the sky apart.

“It appears she will survive,” he said. “Although I don't know exactly when she will wake up, my guess would be in the next few hours.”

“What can you tell us, Solas?” Leliana asked. “I don't believe that she was the cause of the tear in the Veil. That would have taken immense power, which she does not possess. The mark on her hand, however, is a mystery and it is killing her. It is possible that her only chance to stop the spread of its magic is to close the Breach. That might save her or kill her. This magic is unlike anything I've ever seen before. But she fights it, she has a great will to live it seems.” “Do you think she can use the mark to close the Breach?” Cassandra asked “I think it is possible Seeker, she seems to have overcome the power struggle inside of her and that is a good sign that she will have control over the mark as well. So it is reasonable to hope. It may be the only hope we have.” Solas nodded to both women and left the room. The silence left by his departure was broken by Leliana clearing her throat. “Cassandra, I believe it would be best if we request that Commander Cullen remain at the forward camp so that you and I can be available to interrogate the prisoner.”

Cassandra frowned. “His past is his past Leliana and he is making the amends that he feels are due. We cannot hope to save Thedas if we don’t trust the people we have left.”

Leliana held Cassandra's glare for a few moments before replying, “I believe it would be best to not test the limits of either the Commander or and more importantly, the unknown mage all our lives may depend on.” Cassandra snorted, “Fine. You are right, but we must send him reinforcements. They've been up there for hours. They are running out of time.” “I know.” Leliana sighed heavily as she led the way out of the room.

Varric Tethras stared at the glowing hole in the sky while rubbing oil into Bianca’s stock.

“Well shit. I don’t want to write this story.”

He turned as the Chantry doors opened to reveal Solas wiping his hand on his tunic. “Is she gonna live, Chuckles?”

“It would appear so,” Solas said with a sigh. “They are simply waiting for her to wake up.” “They're planning on taking her up to the Temple?”

“I believe so.”

“How long?” Varric squinted at the sky.

“No more than a couple of hours.” Solas regarded the dwarf thoughtfully.

“Well then, I had better get a nap in before we fight our way back up that bloody hill.” Varric shook his head as he turned and walked back to his tent.

Heaviness, suffocation, like being trapped under a soaked wool blanket or caught in a fishing net.

Can't breathe. Fear.

Run! Run!

Pain. Voices. Anger.

She was being torn apart by the fire and ice fighting through her blood, cracking her bones burning and freezing her simultaneously. There was nothing but agony.

Please just let me die.

Kiaya woke with a start, rolled off of the cot and retched on the floor. She tried to crawl away from the mess and came to a rest on her knees, realizing that her hands were secured with heavy iron shackles.

Where am I? What happened?

At that moment Kiaya became aware that she wasn’t alone. Her eyes darted around the cell that she found herself in. The guards, one templar, wore matching expressions of distrust and anger. Before fear could seize her heart, pain exploded in her left hand. Kiaya tried to curl in on herself, hampered by the shackles, green lightning shot up her arm. She could feel the foreign magic twisting and fighting with her own. Whatever it was ended as abruptly as it began; Kiaya stared at her hand, desperately trying to remember what had happened.

She could remember arriving at Haven, when, yesterday? Kiaya spent a moment holding down the panic of not knowing how much time had passed. Their party had arrived late. It had taken Malcolm, Lydia, and Evie longer than they anticipated convincing Kiaya to take Evie’s place with the delegation. Although after Kiaya had taken one look at her sister, her decision was made. But she made them work for it. So their arrival was after dusk the first day, long after talks already begun. She had been so tired, and it was so dark. She spent all her time watching her steps and feeling very uncomfortable in the circle robes she had long ago run away from.

I’m not even supposed to be here.

The alternative would have been what exactly? Would Evie have survived to be here? That would be better?

Fuck

Everything after that was there but not, like trying to form images in the fog. All except...

Kiaya’s search of her memories was interrupted by the door to her cell opening. Two tall women wrapped in shadows entered the room. As they came closer and into the light, Kiaya’s eyes widened in recognition.

Andraste’s ass. This is bad.

Kiaya stood outside the doors of the Chantry, staring at the green glow in the sky. Her hands were still bound, but now with rope and the Seeker had paused to speak to the guards before heading through town leaving Kiaya alone with her thoughts for a moment.

“This can’t be true,” Kiaya whispered. “This can’t be real. They can’t be gone. What am I supposed to do now? How…”

“Alright, let’s go.” Cassandra approached her laying a hand on her elbow. Kiaya struggled not to flinch away at the touch; it would not do to show fear. “Come with me.”

They walked through the rows of tents, and crowds of people began to form, the rumble of angry voices getting louder. Kiaya could feel the anger and the fear building around them like a solid force ready to crush her. The only thing seeming to keep it at bay was the threatening glare that the Seeker aimed at anyone who came remotely close to them, as well as the grip on her sword.

It was an immense relief to reach the gates of the village, away from the hatred and blame for the destruction of the Temple. Breathing was much easier without all that anger pounding at her, although the Fade fire falling from the sky was a little concerning.

Great, I’m getting punchy. That is going to make this so much better. When did I eat last? When did I sleep? Kiaya was frantically trying to find the strength that would get her up this mountain.

“Let’s go.” Cassandra approached her, drawing a knife. She cut through the ropes quickly, turning to look up the hill. “Follow me.”

Kiaya walked behind the Seeker trying to rub life back into her hands. “Seeker? There’s really no one else? Nothing left?” Kiaya couldn’t quite keep the faint hope from her voice.

Cassandra looked back at her, reading the hope in her eyes and feeling the first pangs of sympathy for this mage. “No, there is nothing left. You will see.”

Kiaya was shaking; she was not used to climbing a mountain at such speed. Her knees were throbbing and the muscles in her thighs were starting to ache more and more with each step.

“Seeker, stop!” Varric called out. Kiaya had been so distracted by the constant struggle of making her knees bend that she had forgotten he was behind her; he must have been watching her struggle for a while. Kiaya liked him instantly. His humour and friendly banter made Kiaya feel more relaxed than she had any right to be. Closing the rift with Solas’ help had been excruciating and she was still trying to figure out how it worked. It was like grabbing on to burning coals and pulling them as hard as she could. Which hurt. A lot.

“What is it?” Cassandra asked, annoyance at another delay apparent in her voice. “We are almost at the forward camp. There is no time to lose.”

“Your prisoners have voted, we need to catch our breath,” said Varric as he stopped on the path next to Kiaya.

“I’m fine,” Kiaya snapped but she couldn’t hide the shaking in her legs now that they had stopped moving.

Shame immediately rolled over her at the surprised expression on Cassandra’s face and the amused arch of Varric’s eyebrows.

“I apologize, I’m not fine. Please if I could have a moment, I will be able to move faster.” Kiaya moved to sit on a boulder on the side of the path.

As she sat down, Solas moved over to her. “What is wrong? May I offer my assistance?”

Kiaya smiled at him. His genuine concern for her well being was touching. “Thank you for your offer. I have been dealing with this for years. I have a trick.”

There was no way she was going to be able to roll up her leather pants. She rubbed her hands together, drawing magic into herself. She slowly ran her hands over her legs, first one knee and then the other. As her hands moved, a thin layer of shimmering ice formed and sunk into the leather of her breeches. Frost ferns formed patterns on the surface. Kiaya sighed as the cold and healing sunk into her knees. It was a great relief.

“It has been an age since I have seen water magic handled with such skill.” Solas knelt at her side watching her work.

Kiaya laughed, “My Grams was a watermage. Besides, when you’re on the water, water magic is important.” All the blood left her face as she realized what she said.

Damn it Fucking Shit.

“Alright, I’m ready. Let’s get going.” Kiaya couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes, so she didn’t see the thoughtful look on Varric’s face or the calculating one that Cassandra gave her as she filed the information away.

Kiaya’s face was grim as she led the way up the path.

You need to be careful.

#dragon age inquisition #dragon age fanfic #Kiaya Trevelyan #Kiaya&Cullen #cassandra pentaghast #leliana #varric tethras #dragon age solas #holycrap I'm writing a story

24 notes · View notes

slusheeduck · 6 years

Text

The Winged Prince

One of the things I wrote for my 30 Days of Victuuri challenge over on AO3. The prompt was “In a Fairy Tale” and I ended up liking this so much I wanted to share it here, too. Notes after the story on fairy tales and how much I love them

Once upon a time, a lovely prince lived in a castle by the sea. He was well-known for his charm and his beauty, but he kept to his castle due to his curse: instead of a left arm, he had a swan’s wing.

Of course, he was part of a larger tale, one that was well-known throughout the land. The king’s eleven sons had been transformed into swans by their wicked stepmother, and his only daughter, cunning and loyal, was told by the fairy queen that, if she wanted to save her brothers, she must sew eleven shirts from nettles and not breathe a word while she did, lest her brothers die. Despite winning a foreign king’s love, she was nearly burned as a witch by the townspeople for her strange task, and it was only by her brothers’ intervention that she was saved; as each of the eleven swans lit down around her, she threw on the nettle shirts and returned them to their human form—except for the youngest, who, by way of an unfinished sleeve, retained a swan’s wing where his arm would be.

Many years had passed. The sister was happily married and ruling in her new home, and ten of the brothers had gone to find their fortunes. But the youngest remained, growing more lovely and lonely with each passing year.

Rumors began to spread as the years passed and the facts of the whole ordeal grew hazy. Many began to whisper that the prince’s arm was a by-product of the curse, brought on by himself rather than his wicked stepmother. Some said his heart was frozen solid; others said that there was something inhuman in him that must be broken for him to return to normal. Regardless, the general consensus was that someone must find their way to win the prince’s love in order to break the curse.

When he was young, the prince was utterly enthralled by the attention. So many people who wanted to love him! He would go to town and, much to the dismay of his father and the royal advisor, make a display of himself, tilting his head to let his long silver hair spill against the snow-white feathers, raising his outstretched wing like an angel about to take flight. Then the adoration would come: the compliments, the soft words that made his heart swell and tender glances that made him melt. All too readily, he gave himself to those that adored him, craving the love and attention they poured onto him.

But all too soon, he realized that the love was shallow. They didn’t love him, not really; they wanted to break his curse and gain the fortune and fame that came from being a hero. He was merely a prize to be won. So the prince’s heart did freeze over, until finally he shut himself away, far from the crowds who only loved what he could give.

But word spread through the land, and he received many visitors, sitting cool and beautiful on his throne, silver hair cut short and his wing tucked tightly against his side. Many tried to melt his heart, but none could. Like his sister so many years ago, whispers began to spread that he wasn’t human at all; he was a fairy, a changeling who was the true child of the wicked stepmother. If he weren’t the prince, he likely would have been taken to the stake as well. Visitors stopped coming to see him.

Until one day, a traveler came through the kingdom.

He was from a faraway land, which prompted distrust amongst the people in the town. He would not say where he was from, or why he had left, only that he was weary and needed to find a place to sleep. The inn turned him away, and the townsfolk wouldn’t have a stranger under their roofs. As luck would have it, the royal stablemaster saw him turned away from the last house in the village, and he offered to let the traveler stay in the king’s stables. After all, they were well-guarded; if he tried anything fishy, it would be stopped immediately. Too tired to argue, the traveler agreed, and soon enough, he was nestled in a bundle of straw and fast asleep.

However, he was woken in the middle of the night by the fluttering of feathers. He roused himself, absently brushing the straw from his dark hair, and jumped in surprise as the prince—hair and wing glinting in the moonlight—smiled at him.

“Another fortune-seeker come to woo the cursed prince?” he asked, the slightest sting of ice in his words. “It’s been a while since someone’s dared to come to my home.” His wing stretched and flapped once as he fixed cold blue eyes on the traveler’s dark ones. “Is there a name you go by? It doesn’t have to be your real one; most are scared to give that to changelings.”

The traveler blinked several times, clearly caught off-guard by the prince’s rapid-fire questioning. For the first time, his eyes flicked down to the prince’s wing before going back to his face.

“I…didn’t realize I’d found your kingdom, Prince Victor.” He scrambled up to his feet and bowed. “I-I’ve heard so much about you! About the nettle shirts and the curse and how people have tried to break it. Bu-but I already know I can’t.”

The prince blinked, surprised at the traveler’s frankness. “You don’t think you could win my love?”

To his surprise, he caught the slightest flush in the traveler’s cheeks in the moonlight. “Oh, no. I’m…I’m no one. Really, I should be out seeking my fortune, but I just…I know I won’t be able to find it. And if I can’t do that, then how could I possibly be anything of note to someone like the winged prince?”

The prince’s expression, so long held in icy seriousness, melted into something much softer as he listened to the traveler. “That hasn’t stopped anyone yet. You could still try.”

The traveler shook his head, turning his gaze to the ground. “No, I can’t break the curse. It’s already been broken.” He looked up and, at the prince’s incredulous expression, he added, “I’ve…seen a lot of magic while trying to find my fortune. Curses can only be broken once, even if it’s not complete. That wing is as much a part of you as your arm is.” He looked away, then added softly, “I’ve always thought it was beautiful, even when I first heard about it. I can’t believe anyone would want to take that from you.”

A curious thing happened to the prince when the traveler said those words: for the first time in many years, his heart thawed and melted in his chest. Tears gathered on his silver lashes, and before the traveler could say another word, he spread his wing toward him, carefully wrapping it around them to make a curtain of snow-white feathers.

“You’re the first to understand,” he whispered, voice weak and desperate. “What do you want? Land? Wealth? Me? Anything you desire, traveler, I’ll give to you.”

The traveler blinked, and a slow smile spread across his face. Slowly, hesitantly, he reached up to lightly cup the prince’s face.

“Yuuri.”

The prince blinked. “What?”

“Yuuri. That’s my name. And…and I want you to come with me.” He gave the prince a warm smile. “I want us to find our fortunes together, Victor.”

The prince stared at the traveler for a moment, tears leaking down his cheeks, and he let out an incredulous laugh after a moment.

“Very well, Yuuri. Then come morning, we will be off to find our fortune.”

And so, with hearts warmed and spirits renewed, two travelers, Victor and Yuuri, set off from the kingdom to find their fortunes. And while here were great threats, greater rewards, and unimaginable adventure off on the horizon, the greatest fortune had already been found: both by the traveling hero and the captive prince alike.

NOTES:

~I love fairy tales and I LOVE THE IMAGE OF SWAN-WINGED VICTOR. I’m absolutely not the first to be in love with the “Wild Swans” single-winged-brother imagery and what it could stand for (a lack of perceived humanity, something distancing one from the crowd, sacrifice of humanity for beauty, etc.) but I’ve yet to see any Swan Prince Victors and I am disappoint.

~Yuuri did absolutely have his own adventure beforehand, and my thought was that it followed The Traveling Companion by Hans Christian Andersen (who also wrote the version of “The Wild Swans” that everyone is familiar with), which is probably my FAVORITE fairy tale and also could blend with the general idea of this one. But that’s a project for another day.

~I JUST REALLY LOVE FAIRY TALES OKAY.

#yuri on ice #victuuri #fairy tale au #30 day OTP challence #yoi fanfic #yoi

1 note · View note

adlegend21 · 7 years

Note

For the da companion questions; Solas: 1, 2, 5 cole: 3, 4 varric: 1, 5 cassandra: 3, 5 vivienne: 2, 4 Iron Bull: 1, 4 Sera: 1, 2 Blackwall: 2, 3, 5

Did your Inquisitor engage Solas academically with questions or were they uninterested in his experiences?

“Solas.”

“Yes, Inquisitor?”

“When you say that spirits are twisted by our world and become demons, do you think they can be reverted back?” Elgara asks.

“In theory, should the circumstances around the demon change, it could possibly revert back to its nature, but it would most likely be irreparably changed by the experience.”

“So if that were to happen, they wouldn’t need to be destroyed?”

“It would make sense for that to be the outcome,” Solas answered, “But I don’t see how that is relevant to our situation, as it would take more time than we afforded-”

They both lunged out of the way of the swiping claw of a 12-foot tall pride demon. He was happy that she took the time to ask him, but now wasn’t the time for magical theory, it was time for action.

Solas 2 answered here

What did they choose, stop Solas or attempt to redeem him, and what motivated their choice? Fear? Love?

“Vhenan...It doesn’t have to be this way...” The words carried more emotion and meaning than anything Nehn had ever said. Her bare face was covered in tears, partly from the pain in her hand and the sadness in her heart. Her love was tearing more than the anchor from her arm.

“I’m sorry, Vhenan.” Solas took his magic from her along with her heart. The pain was subsiding along with the feeling in her left hand. When she’d first awoke she wish the Dread Wolf would take this cursed magic from her, but now that he had, she was filled with sadness and regret.

She can only watch as he turns and walks away, toward the Eluvian. He vanishes and its light fades away.

“Take me with you...” the words escape her lips as she falls over, exhausted and ruined.

Was Cole made more human or more spirit and why did your Inquisitor choose what they did?

“You know I can see you, Cole,”

The words are kind instead of damning, he can still tell even if it takes a little more effort.

“Does that make it bad?”

“Not at all, it gives me a way to thank you for helping.”

Her smile is sweet, like the honey he added to her tea. Sister Nightingale still sings softly. She ruffles his messy hair and it feels right. He leaves her presence and receives more warmth with meeting the Inquisitor at the bottom of the stairs. She gives him another sweet smile to let him know he’s helping. It feels better when they don’t forget. That’s what Mary-Jeanette Trevelyan told him.

Did your Inquisitor become friends with Cole? Did Cole leave the Inquisition at any point, due to conflict with your Inquisitor?

“Cole, I made you this.”

He says to no one in particular until the familiar brim of Cole’s hat appears in his periphery.

Bhima holds a dagger like someone holds a kitchen knife. He gives it to Cole like he was given his ceremonial sword by Leliana when they arrived at Skyhold. Cole likes how it feels in his hands. It feels clean and pure, warm and pleasant, unlike his other dagger.

“It has a rune of cleansing, meaning that it works well against corrupting influence. It helps like you do.”

“I like it.”

It makes Bhima smile as bright as his hand. He knows it’ll work because he made it for his friend.

Was your Inquisitor’s relationship with Varric like that of Varric’s relationship with Hawke? Was it better? Worse?

“You know, you can go with her.”

Varric’s head turns to the Elf beside him, “What and miss all the fun?”

“You do plenty of that already, don’t you?” Elgara asked, “I mean, I bring Sera everywhere because y’know,” she stops to chuckle, “We already helped Bianca and I know you miss Hawke. She could use a friend.”

“Well, you’re a friend too, Inquisitor,” He protests.

“Which is why you call me Inquisitor, but call the Champion of Kirkwall Hawke,” Elgara replies smoothly, “You lied to the Chantry to protect Hawke, and it’s not the best way to stay alive to have Cassandra angry at you for deceit.It’s obvious where your allegiance is. I wouldn’t be upset if you did decide to follow her.”

He watches as the figure of the Champion gets smaller as she gets farther, “You’d really accept that?” he asks.

She nods, “I would. That’s what friends do for each other.”

Did your Inquisitor leave Hawke in the fade or save Hawke? How did that affect their relationship with Varric?

“It’s a shame about Stroud,” Varric said.

“Is it?” Saare asks, “I could see the anger in his eyes in the Fade. If he isn’t dead, he’s still fighting that demon with his stamina.”

“Hawke said she volunteered to see you out..”

“She didn’t have the fire he did about it,” Saare said, “Her fire is elsewhere, I’d just be damning her to death in the fade after everything she went through in Kirkwall.”

The conversation ends, but Varric can’t help but agree. Hawke wasn’t made for sacrifice, and he was glad the Inquisitor saw that too.

Did your Inquisitor push Cassandra to rebuild or abandon the Seekers of Truth? Why?

“I know you are a non-believer, I still value your opinion.”

“Then why do you look so upset that I think the Seekers should be lost along with the templars?” Saare was equal parts confused and defensive with Cassandra’s brow furrowing at her. “They made people tranquil. Then used it as a punishment.”

“The same punishment you used for Erimond,” Cassandra reminds her.

“Because he wanted me to kill him and I don’t bow to Tevinter, even if I’m not a true Qunari. He also tried to destroy the Grey Wardens, not take too long on a Harrowing or leave a Circle Tower to live free.”

The courtyard is quiet as the towering Inquisitor looks down at the sturdy Seeker. Soldiers and civilians alike waiting for bows to come.

“ultimately it is up to you Seeker. I can’t tell you what to do with your life like I tell you where to go in combat. As much as you don’t want to admit it, your destiny can be put in your own hands, not left up to Maker.”

(bhima knows all her names too)

Did your inquisitor view The Game as worthwhile or did they detest court intrigue? How did that affect their relationship with Vivienne?

“My dear, you handled yourself remarkably this evening.”

“You flatter me with compliments, Enchanter,” Elgara smiled.

“You know, you seemed like a masterful player of the game. Almost like you’d been raised in the very halls of power.”

“Really? Well it’s good to know that even a Dalsih elf can be good at what the humans call The Game.”

“You say that like I just asked you what smells you do not find appealing, my dear.”

“Oh, good. My words are having their meaning return. I’d gotten so used to just saying things back in the form of a question so people would be confused. I still can’t believed that it worked so well that an elf got into power just by me never answering anything at all. No wonder Corypheus got so close to ruining Orlais. Hopefully, Briala can get things done the same way. See you tomorrow Vivienne.”

The Enchanter was stunned but also filled with respect for her friend that she knew how to adapt to her surroundings.

Was Vivienne ever considered a candidate for Divine by your Inquisitor? Why was, or why wasn’t, she made Divine by your Inquisitor?

The scowl on Vivienne’s face was worth every laugh that escaped Inquisitor Bhima Trevelyan’s mouth. He laughed heartily and with feeling. He even added in a knee slap for effect.

“Oh, that was great. I do apologize for laughing too long, I should’ve stopped three seconds sooner. I can’t believe you think I would consider putting in a good word for you to be Divine when Leliana is right there.”

“Yes, I mistook you for someone with taste, my dear.”

“I helped you with Bastien, Vivienne, and make no mistake that I do respect you, but the Circles are done for, My Dear. Whether or not you agree, their time has come and gone and Leliana agrees with me. I’m sure you understand.”

“and is that why you also failed to support Cassandra for the position, and no just so youcould continue sleeping with her off the Sunburst Throne.”

“I’d sooner nominate sera for the Sunburst Throne then have the circles and templar’s return. I’ve got the title and power to make that happen. I wonder what they’ll name Leliana once she’s elected...” he said as he turned away from Vivienne and returned to the library.

Was your Inquisitor wary of Bull upon learning he was a spy?

“Chief!”

“Herald!”

The smaller humans are shuffled toward the towering Qunari. Seconds earlier they’d been conversing until the female of the two launched her forehead into her male counterpart, knocking him to his rear.

“Relax!” the male Qunari said, his good eye shut while his hand was held up to keep the humans at bay. “We’re still talking...get back to work chargers.”

Saare was seething and seconds away from immolating this “Iron Bull” where he sat after stating he was Ben Hasserath. He was part of the reason her parents fled their homes every few months when she was little. Why she hadn’t made friends for most of her life and why her parents left in the first place. If he had his way she’d probably have her mouth sewn shut and be leashed somewhere.

“I’m not the enemy here, that thing in the sky is. I’m not here to convert you, I’m here to help. I’ll give you everything you need and they won’t come for you. If that changes, you can burn me on the spot.”

She walked away to calm herself and she thought about it. The Inquisiton needed her and she was under watch already. If the Ben Hasserath were to come, they’d be starting a war with the chantry and there were already exalted marches for that sort of thing. Plus she could take him in a fight.

“Alright, but I’m watching you....” Saare reached down and helped Bull to his feet.

Did they choose the chargers or the Qunari alliance? If they condemned the Chargers to death, how did they feel?

“You’ve thrown away an alliance between our peoples.”

Gatt says this with the anger he spoke of before the mission, Saare can use that, “Why would I choose an institution that would see me in servitude over the best damn soldiers under the Inquisition's banner?”

“Hissrad, you let her change you.”

“Don’t you call him that,” Saare moves closer, standing over the Elf with her natural stature, “He’s not a liar and he doesn’t keep secrets. Hissrad is gone. He has and always will be The Iron Bull.”

“I guess you’re right...” Gatt leaves, knowing that she’s right. It won’t make the trip back to skyhold any more pleasant for him, but it’s the truth.

“Thanks, Saare...”

She turns to Bull and sees him smiling, “What? I defend your name and I’m not your boss anymore?”

“No, you are, but Even after you gave me this necklace, I wasn’t really worthy of it. I’ve been calling you Bas this whole time...”

“Other.”

“But you’re not Other. You’re Saare and I’m not Hissrad, I’m The Iron Bull.”

“Damn right you are...”

What did your Inquisitor think about the Red Jenny organization? Did they choose to be apart of it?

no ficlet but all my Inquisitors like it cuz they like helping people.

Did your Inquisitor see Sera as troublesome or simply fun-loving? Did they join in for her pranks?

“We should do that more often, it’s not every day Cullen blows his top,” Elgara had just recovered from laughing so hard that she almost fell off the rooftop after Cullen came storming through the courtyard in a huff. They’d sabotaged his desk and now they were reaping the rewards of their efforts.

“You surprise me, Inky. I didn’t think you’d go for this what with you being in charge.”

“We Elfy elves like to have fun too. It’s not all history and traditions among the Dalish.”

“Well, I don’t know about that, but you’re alright.”

Elgara would take it for now.

What did they choose to do with him and how did they feel about their choice? Were they guilty about leaving him in cell, if they choose to do so?

“Why?” Blackwall croaked. His hands free after his crime had been barred to everyone in the Great Hall.

“Because,” Bhima said, “In life, many people ask for redemption. Bl-Rainer, you took it. While you are no Grey Warden, you are no Evil man. I can see that so in Andraste’s name, you are forgiven.”

“I...thank you, Your Worship.”

Did their treatment of Blackwall change after discovering who he was? If yes, how so?

The battle is over, the last bandit has fallen, and yet the sweet smell of a position fills his nostrils. He can feel it take effect almost instantly and he feels rejuvenated and in less pain than he was seconds earlier.

He looks to the Qunari woman who undoubtedly threw the concoction and she has a soft smile for him. He noticed that she was going out of her way to do these things and he wouldn’t forget. While other’s may still show him hostility, and rightfully so in his mind, she gave him nothing but kindness.

He would never forget.

Did they remain in contact with him after the events of Trespasser?

All of my quizzy’s keep in touch to let him know he’s a good person and that he can still help people.

#ask box stuff #wow this is long #Dragon Age #writing stuff #biryujii

1 note · View note