#I GET THAT DORIAN WAS GROOMED BUT IT WAS BY BOTH OF THOSE MEN DO NOT FUCKING DELUDE YOURSELF

[criscura]

Absolutely adore your OPM writing but I am also living for your recent takes about Dorian Gray. Easily one of the best books I’ve had to read back in school. I just love when I find other people who are also obsessed with jt!

THANKS FOR ACTIVATING MY TRAP CARD I'M GOING TO GO OFF ON WHAT I WAS TALKING ABOUT YESTERDAY

okay. okAY so like. so i finish Dorian Gray right. It still feels so cold and ruthless and bitter, and once AGAIN I'm left thinking "oh damn, Henry is probably gonna be a little devastated by this one, he spent the last twenty years hanging out with this dude who he was absolutely fucking almost daily, and THEN he's going to find out that Basil really is dead, AND his wife left him, he can't sardonic his way out of feeling for this"

and he's hot right like that's a plot-critical point, Henry is seductive. SO HERE I GO LIKE "okay tumblr let's try this again SUREly you have art of the fucked up sexy old bastard right"

AND FUCKING THEN (under the cut this is SO LONG and i'm not apologizing for it)

i go on and see????? like not only is there almost nothing of him??? people GENUINELY hate him??? but they LOVE Basil??? and I'm like no, no this CAN'T be right, maybe--like okay, Tumblr is a unique place, maybe this is one of those cases where my opinion falls more in line with the majority, so I go to google and I just. Type in "Dorian Gray Henry Wotton"

AND IT'S ALL THE SAME. ALL!!! ALL THE SAME!!!! He's awful, he's the villain, he's the worst, blablabla, and i'm like. okya. OKAY. ALRIGHT OKAY yes he was terrible but it was so painfully obvious he was in love with/obsessed with/infatuated with Dorian, S U R E L Y that's gotten him some brownie points there. Like. He sees Dorian, and then goes onto spend every single day with him if he can, morning, noon, and night, taking him out on dates and trips and giving him anything he asks, for EIGHTEEN YEARS, to the extent that when his wife divorces and leaves him he begs Dorian to stay with him.

Like even his whole issue with women, specifically romance with women, like---did???? did fucking no one???? ?DID FUCKING NO ONE READ THAT AND SEE A GAY MAN PISSED OFF THAT HE HAS TO PLAY A PART??????? HOW MUCH FUCKING CLEARER CAN YOU GET. All in all he does the EXACT SAME THING Basil does, just in his own way, so i figure there must, there MUST, there has GOT TO BE sympathy for him *somehwere*

AND!!!!! NO/!1!!!!! NOT!!!!1 NO!!!!!!!!!! EVERYWHERE!!!! i loook EVERYWHERE!!! for "Henry Wotton in love with Dorian" AND IT'S ALL LIKE!!! oh no, he just wanted power, oh no, he just wanted to see dorian fall, oh no, he NEVER felt ANYTHING for this guy he fucking DEVOTED ALL HIS WAKING HOURS TO IF HE COULD and i just. i.

so i go to my last recourse right??? i'm fucking desperate. i am DESPERATE. I go to Reddit. Surely, FUCKING SURELY--and at this point i just want to know I'm not insane, you KNOW you are in the absolute fucking trenches when you're going to reddit for opinions on literature but fuck at least if I can find a mirror in the cesspool i know that I exist right like i'm not some fucking ghost right SOMEONE will have seen what I saw--and

overwhelmingly

OVERWHELMINGLY

it's people talking about how much they hate Henry.

i. And like. SOME people are like "oh he was so interesting, he was the best part of the book," which yes, gratifying, but???? I????

As i was reading it, it was unbelievably--UNBEARABLY--again ****OVERWHELMINGLY**** obvious that a) both Basil and Henry were in love with Dorian b) they were BOTH older men taking advantage of him and dominating his time and attention so they could try to mold him into something for their own personal viewing pleasure c) Dorian was bare minimum a little bit shit from the start--as in, BEFORE WE SEE HIM he's introduced as someone who likes to hurt his friends because he enjoys it. This was so obviously a mean book about bad people and we're watching a train wreck unfold. a sexy, sexy, SEXY train wreck because wanting to fuck Dorian is a critical pull for the whole thing, but!!!!

BUT!!!!! ALSO CRITICALLY!!!!! ESSENTIALLY!!!!! HENRY WOTTON IS A SEXY ASSHOLE YOU NEED TO WANT TO FUCK

LIKE!!!!!! It's like the whole thing with stories about Satan, where he HAS to be hot so you understand why people would do what he says despite knowing it's bad for them. Henry is designed to be the dangerous, hot, older worldly dude stepping further and further into the shadows while beckoning for Dorian to follow after him, and to a certain extent you NEEED to understand that pull so you understand what Dorian is going through. AND THIS IS SO COMMON IT'S A MYTHOLOGICAL TROPE!!!

DO YOU HATE SATAN IN THE BOOK OF JOB. DO YOU HATE MEPHISTOPHELES IN MEPHISTOPHELES. Henry is performing the exact same role!!! All his lines are written sex!!!! it is fucking LEGITIMATELY some of the most sensual shit I have EVER read!! "talking to him was like playing upon an exquisite violin" ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME. aND YOU!!! You're supposed to be pulled in!!! that's SO IMPORTANT. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU READ THE BOOK AND ENJOYED IT BUT HATED HIM AND DIDN'T WANT TO READ HIS LINES. WHAT DID YOU FUCKING READ.

But okay. Alright okay. EVEN DISREGARDING that Henry is a hot sexy bastard and that's necessary for the story and for Dorian's characterization. I would fucking GET IT if he was the ONLY person in the story that's like that. I would give it a pass if this is a story where everyone is good and sweet and everything is all daisies and niceness. FUCKING BUT.

THE ENTIRE NOVEL IS FULL OF ABSOLUTELY SHIT ASS PEOPLE FROM START TO END

Everyone uwu-ifies Basil, but that man is the same age as Henry. He saw this barely legal???? Not yet legal???? I'm not entirely sure how that works at that time with people of that status, but he saw the equivalent of a fresh-faced "i've been 18 for one day and have never left my house" angel of a boy who lost his parents young and was raised with family that fucking hated him and was like "yes well i want to look at him forever I'm going to keep him with me as much as I can and tell him how perfect and pretty he is so he does what i say and lets me paint him in whatever pose i can think of" and like

HE DOES TEH SAME THING AS HENRY???!!! IT'S TEH SAME THING???????

IT'S NOT BETTER JUST BECAUSE BASIL IS PATHETIC?

He does the same thing Henry does!!!! Henry is also a manipulative predatory asshole!! HENRY IS JUST MORE FORWARD ABOUT IT.

like WHAT??? what is it better when he does it because he's a sad wet cat of a man??? why, because he says he loves Dorian? He loves Dorian SOOOOOO MUCH he watches as he falls down a worse and worse path, refusing to believe any of the rumors he heard about him FOR TWENTY YEARS because they don't line up with how he personally sees Dorian, and only steps in to try to make a positive difference the HOUR before he was going to leave for an unknown amount of time???? he loves him THAT MUCH he just gives up every time he runs into legitimate resistance when it comes to helping Dorian out????

And!!!!! fuckin!!!! Everyone uwu-ifies Dorian too!!!!! ONCE AGAIN, LITERALLY ONE OF THE FIRST THINGS WE LEARN ABOUT HIM--no, I'm just gonna write out the paragraph:

"He likes me," he answered after a pause; "I know he likes me. Of course I flatter him dreadfully. I find a strange pleasure in saying things to him that I know I shall be sorry for having said. As a rule, he is charming to me, and we sit in the studio and talk of a thousand things. Now and then, however, he is horribly thoughtless, and seems to take a real delight in giving me pain. Then I feel, Harry, that I have given away my whole soul to someone who treats it as if it were a flower to put in his coat, a bit of decoration to charm his vanity, an ornament for a summer's day."

HALF OF THAT IS DEVOTED TO SAYING HE'S KIND OF A DICK. The *other* half is Basil saying being with him makes him happy, but, but, but, but, but. There's SO MANY conditions on that happiness. Dorian is NOT a purely good person--he's capable of good, but he's also capable of bad, and he chooses which he's going to be. He's capricious. And he's not an idiot!! He can tell Henry is bad news!! and he gets PLENTY of warning about it! But he's curious and he chooses to go back to Henry, over and over and over again.

AND THAT'S THE WHOLE FUCKING POINT!!!!!

Dorian chooses!!!! DORIAN CHOOSES!! Basil and Henry are both different forks on the same kind of hedonistic, idolatrous paths. Basil wants to put him in art; Henry wants to put him into the world. They're BOTH fucking Pygmalion and Dorian is their Galatea--it's just that the medium they both use is different. And Dorian can tell!!! He can see!! He realizes that Basil sees him like a pretty thing to keep around to inspire him! He KNOWS that Henry's ideas poisoned him!! AND YET!!

HE CONTINUES TO GO BACK TO BOTH, depending on what he wants the most at that moment!!

AND IN THE END HE BECOMES A WORSE VERSION OF BOTH OF THEM BECAUSE HE CONTINUES TO CHOOSE BAD DESPITE HAVING SEVERAL OPPORTUNITIES TO STOP.

The manipulation? Using people for his own pleasure and then throwing them away when he's bored of it? The hateful, bigoted, judgemental thoughts? Ruining lives because that's convenient for him? The deaths of MULTIPLE people, probably considerably more than we know about? Dorian does ALL OF IT, again and again and again, because he wants to.

We revisit him throughout SEVERAL points in his life, all of which it's very apparent he wants for nothing and can do whatever he pleases. At ANY OF THOSE MOMENTS, or any of the ones between, he could have chosen to do good. But the same way he chose to hurt Basil because he enjoyed it, he chooses to fuck around and cause chaos because he likes it. The ability to do bad was always, ALWAYS inside Dorian, and both Basil and Henry were fascinated by it because it served different parts of their own vanity.

Basil liked Dorian the way you like a filter on a camera, and he thought Dorian left everything that HE made looking more beautiful. It's made abundantly clear that his biggest concern was the art he was creating, and Dorian was key to it. Henry liked Dorian the way you'd like a phonograph, where you can hear everything you've said reflected back at you, but in a different way with different tones. They are BOTH narcissistic in their approach towards Dorian, WHO IN HIMSELF IS NARCISSISTIC IN HIS RELATIONSHIPS WITH OTHER PEOPLE. No one is good here!!! No one is a purely good person!!!!!!!!

And everyone else, except fuckin' Sybil Vane, is bare minimum kind of shit. We don't meet a SINGLE other character that's a glowing representation of what mankind can be, who doesn't have some sort of flaw. And like.

THERE IS A LITERAL LIST OF RULES AT THE BEGINNING THAT MAKE IT CLEAR NOTHING IN THIS BOOK IS SUPPOSED TO BE MORALLY GOOD.

It says it!!!!!! Again and again and again!!!!!! It makes it SO FUCKING CLEAR that this isn't concerned with right and wrong and you need to abandon that at the doorstep!! There are no good characters, the same way there aren't any evil characters, because that doesn't apply here.

SO FUCKING. TO COME BACK TO IT. AFTER ALL THAT. AFTER!!!! ALL!!!!! THAT!!!!!!!

TO HAVE PEOPLE SAY HENRY IS EVIL AND THE VILLAIN OF THE BOOK!!!!

DORIAN IS THE VILLAIN OF THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY. DORIAN IS THE BAD GUY!!!

Basil and Henry were paths!!!! They were choices!!! They were options AND DORIAN FUCKING CHOSE!!!!!!! And you're not supposed to feel good about it!! It's not supposed to make you happy!! We're supposed to see that Dorian was doomed from the start and we're watching his downfall!!

And it just!!!!! IT IS MAKING ME INSANE. IT IS DRIVING ME CRAZY THAT I'M NOT SEEING THIS OUTSIDE OF MY OWN HEAD. Gosh even just!!! Even the way the "Henry is the antagonist" removes agency from Dorian, and everyone else, when it involves Henry?? As if they don't all willingly go to him and talk to him and want to be with him??

Not to get fucking spicy about it but it comes WAAAAYYY too close to the idea that thoughts and ideas are guilty/sinful/actions in themselves and they need to be shut up, and there's little to no responsibility on the shoulders of the people hearing them to dissect them and decide whether or not they're a) legitimate and b) something they want for themselves. It's the reason it drives me absolutely I N S A N E when people say the devil made someone do bad or it was just God's influence who made something good happen, as if there weren't real actual living fucking human beings who made choices and put in the work, good AND bad, to make those things happen. It's like throwing up your hands and going "well! everything is predetermined and there's no point in fighting."

Like. The complete villainization of Henry, and the hand-waving on what Dorian and Basil do, is just---TUM,BLR. TUMBLR!!!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!!!! I CAME TO YOU FOR HELP. I CAME TO YOU FOR NUANCE. TUMBLR!!!!!!!!! HENRY IS THE FOREFATHER TO ALL YOUR SEXYMEN!!!!! HE'S GAY!!! HE'S MANIPULATIVE!!!! HE'S HOT!!!! HE'S WEIRD AND OLD AND LURKS IN CORNERS ALL THE TIME!!!!! WHAT !!! THE FUCK!!!!!!!

[e-dubbc11]

Afternoon Delight

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Dirty talk, a LOT of it. Reader and Billy both have filthy mouths in this one so 18+ please (no minors or I’m telling), some swear words

Word Count: 1.6k-ish

Summary: Reader is reading and waiting for her boyfriend to bring her lunch in the park. A very handsome man takes a seat next to her, the book she’s reading is one of his favorites.

A/N: This is my contribution to May’s writing challenge over on the Thirsty For Cox discord server. This month’s prompt was sundress season and I honestly didn’t mean for it to get dirty but my brain had other ideas. Oh the book I took the quotes from is The Picture of Dorian Gray. I hope you like it!

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

A gentle summer breeze rushed across your exposed shoulders as you sat alone on a park bench reading your book on an early Saturday afternoon. The subtle rustling of the trees above your head prompted you to look up and watch the sun highlight the veins in the leaves as the wind moved them in multiple directions.

The warm afternoon sun shone through the leaves on the trees, drawing attention to bright green patches of grass all over the park. It was a beautiful day.

Your boyfriend told you earlier that morning that he would meet you in the park for lunch and you couldn’t wait to surprise him with the new dress you bought.

Black with white polka dots, adjustable spaghetti straps, long with a deep V-neck and a drawstring closure, it was perfect for a day like today and you were sure he would love it on you.

Continuing to turn the pages of your book, you looked up the walkway and noticed a very handsome man walking toward you wearing a gray suit.

He had ebony colored hair, a short well-groomed beard and as he came closer you noticed his eyes. He had beautiful yet very mysterious deep brown eyes, the kind of eyes you could just get lost in while he was talking to you. They looked like two flat black marbles and they were looking directly at you.

There were empty park benches everywhere, so you didn’t think he would take a seat next to you and yet, he did. As he sat down, he smiled at you. You’ve never seen a more perfect smile on top of an already incredibly handsome face.

He said hello, you said hello back and returned the smile he gave you.

A smile like his could get you into some serious trouble but then he doubled down and opened his mouth to which you heard his soft tone, his voice was smooth like warm honey with a slight New York accent.

“I love that book.” He said.

You almost forgot you were holding a book, he was quite the distraction.

“Me too.” You said. “This is my fourth time reading it. Do you have a favorite part?”

You asked him, hoping to throw him off guard to see if he’s actually read it or if it’s some lame pick up line.

“Well…let’s see.” He said. “There are so many.”

Got him.

“The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself, with desire for what its monstrous laws have made monstrous and unlawful.” Chapter 2, page 23

“Oh and…”

“When we are happy, we are always good, but when we are good, we are not always happy." Chapter 6, page 106

The fact that he had those passages memorized, shocked you to your core and you felt slightly embarrassed and ashamed that you doubted him, but it turned you on at the same time.

“I’m sorry, I thought that…” You said.

He interrupted you.

“You thought it was a line, didn’t you.” He said with a sly grin.

Very few people surprised you, especially tall, handsome men just strolling through the park.

“I do apologize Mister?” You asked.

“Russo…Billy Russo.” He said extending his hand for you to shake. “I read that book a lot when I was deployed overseas.”

“Deployed? Wait, lemme guess…” You said as you carefully looked him over from head to toe. “You were a marine.” You were biting down on your lower lip, and fighting the desire to draw him in close by his tie.

He continued to stare at you with those intense brown eyes of his, he could not look away and neither could you. He held your gaze and felt yourself start to blush every time he smiled at you.

“How did you know?” He asked.

“Well…actually, my boyfriend was also in the Marines.” You said in a low breathy tone.

His smile disappeared.

“Well your boyfriend is a lucky man, I’ve never seen a more beautiful smile…on anyone.” He said.

He took the words right out of your mouth, you felt the same way about his smile.

Billy moved his head like it was on a swivel, looking all around him. “So…where is this boyfriend of yours? If you were mine, I’d never let you out of my sight.” He stated.

The struggle to keep from smiling was difficult, and you replied. “Actually, I don’t know. He said he would meet me here for lunch and he’s never ever late.”

You weren’t sure if it was the rays from the sun or Billy that was causing the warmth to rise to your cheeks.

There was something you wanted from Billy but maybe you shouldn’t ask. Although, what harm could come from reading a few pages from your book to you?

There was just something about his voice that was captivating. The way the words rolled off of his tongue was musical and hypnotic, like he was meant to read them aloud.

As he read, he’d glance away from the pages for sentences at a time to look over at you. He had memorized a lot of the passages, staring at you as he recited the words.

At one point, he stopped and lost his place because he was too busy staring at you.

“I’m so sorry.” He said. “I have to tell you, I’m very distracted by this beautiful dress you have on. Although I’m not sure if it’s the dress or the woman wearing it, maybe it’s both. I can’t believe your boyfriend let you leave the house without him, lookin’ like that. Every man that walks by this bench is having the same thoughts as I am.”

Trying to swallow the lump in your throat, the ache between your thighs grew hungry for him.

“Oh? And—what sort of thoughts would those be, Mr. Russo?” You whispered.

“Impure ones.” He hissed as he looked you up and down.

Your fingers lightly danced across the glowing skin on your chest and moved up to rub the back of your neck as his tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip.

“Thoughts of taking you back to my place, hiking that dress up over your hips and fucking you so hard you can’t walk right tomorrow, pinning you against the wall, and having your legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me deeper into that sweet pussy of yours. I wanna hear you scream my name over and over again until your voice cracks, and I bet you’d look really pretty sitting on my dick.”

Gently, he touched your bare shoulder, and brushed the warm soft skin of your arm with his calloused fingers, those words sent shivers down your spine despite the hot afternoon sun.

Shuddering at those sinful thoughts, you leaned in to him so your face was closer to his yet your bodies remained apart and whispered against his mouth. “Is that right? Anything else?” You asked before sucking on his bottom lip.

“Or just ripping it off of you because it covers that gorgeous body of yours, then using it to tie you to the bed so I can look at you all spread out, ready to take my cock. Those are the kind of thoughts I’m having.”

A bead of sweat had dripped from your neck down your chest and in between your breasts, your panties were soaked from listening to Billy describe what he wanted to do to you, and if he wanted to fuck you right there on that park bench, you would probably let him.

“Maybe I’m having similar thoughts.” You said softly. “Maybe I want to see you on your knees in front of me, your head underneath my dress, and your tongue fucking me until I can’t see straight.”

You were so distracted by him, you forgot why you were sitting on that bench in the first place.

He inched closer to you so his thigh was touching yours, the look in his eyes was primal, his long slender fingers touched the side of your face, his other hand grazed the top of your breast and then he pushed some of your hair back behind your ear so he could whisper to you.

“Role playing is fun, isn’t it sweet girl. I don’t even need to touch you to know how wet you are for me. Love the new dress. I know I was supposed to bring lunch but I didn’t think there would be a snack waiting for me when I got here.” He said with a devilish smirk and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

You reached out to brush his beard with your thumbs and let out a little chuckle. “Wow…And I thought I’ve heard every cheesy pick up line there is, my love. Are you done flirting with me? Where’s my lunch?”

Billy held up one finger. “Number one, I’ll never stop flirting with you, number two, you’re wearin’ MY lunch…and I promise I’ll get you something to eat, but I need to get you home now otherwise we’re both getting arrested for indecent exposure.” He said with a wink. “I held out as long as I could. I’m pretty sure I flatlined when I first saw you. You look fuckin’ hot, baby.”

You leaned in close and gave him a hungry kiss, your tongue twisted with his and your teeth nipped at his lower lip which made him absolutely feral for you.

“Well let’s go home then, Mr. Russo and don’t forget our book.”

Tag List: @mindidjarin @saintmurd0ck @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @xdervyxccgh @mattmurdocksscars @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialams @idek-what-to-put @anastasianeedstoread @ratsys @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @simple-lovebot @russosafehaven @mrsbillyrusso

If you’d like to be added to (or removed from) my tag list for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again

[embyrinitalics]

“En passant” 😜

Well THAT'S taking me back in time 😂

This is a story idea I had back in early 2018. I even posted about it (#En Passant 👀). It was a Zelink arranged marriage AU that I had very high hopes for...

AND THEN CAME THE DREADED HARDDRIVE FAILURE OF OCTOBER 2018 and I lost pretty much all of it. I managed to find bits and pieces in my email and redownload those (and have them all safely organized in a google docs file), but it was definitely a blow and I haven't really gone back to it.

It's named after the chess move, because both Link and Zelda feel like pawns in their fathers’ political strategies. They don't like each other much at all at first, but of course things start to get better, and then get WORSE. 😁 I think it was really the springboard for Wolf King, come to think of it. 🤔

ANYWAYS. Snippet down below for anyone who wants to look!

The dissonant cacophony of a pitchfork crashing to the loft floor snapped him from his reverie. He whipped around and locked eyes with the stablehand who had dropped it—he looked startled as a rabbit, eyes wide as saucers and mouth frozen slightly agape. They both fled at the same time, the groom all but tumbling down the stairway, and the prince jumping from the gable door into the stableyard. He broke into a run and very nearly made it off the summit before a pair of strong hands latched onto his collar and threw him against the wall of the sparring hall. It knocked the wind from his lungs and made him look decidedly unprincely, but all things considered he supposed he deserved it.

“Where have you been?” Dorian, the man to whom the strong hands belonged, growled.

“Just getting some fresh air,” he murmured, defeated and resigned to it.

The Swordmaster shoved him against the wall again before he let go, disgusted. “You have hay in your hair.”

Link absently raked his fingers through it, shaking bits of stalk and clover loose. “I just needed to get away,” he sighed. “I needed a moment to breathe. Can you understand that?”

Dorian grunted. “I understand that none of this is what you want. But that doesn’t give you license to run from it. I hope you can understand that.”

He turned before Link could reply, leading the way up the path to the citadel on the summit. Link followed grudgingly, shrugging himself off the wall and accepting the scolding with uncharacteristic compliance.

“I wasn’t running,” he frowned, running his hand through his hair again. Their shoes crunching in disjointed tandem on the dust and gravel sounded vaguely like a horse clopping up the way. “As much as I hate it, I have every intention of going through with it. I won’t shirk my duty.”

“You were just throwing a tantrum,” Dorian surmised, and Link let himself be coerced into a lopsided grin.

“I suppose I was.”

“Well, I hope you’re through,” he said gruffly. “They’ve already crossed through the Fort. They might well be beyond the cliffs by now.”

The prince sighed. “They don’t waste time, do they?”

“Stop wallowing. You have one of the Great Houses and a beautiful woman that are about to be yours. Most men hope for half your luck.”

“I know,” he murmured. They reached the bulwark that ringed the hall and Dorian left him there, staring resignedly at the tiered spires of the citadel and breathing the faintly salty air wafting up from the bay. “The problem is, I don’t particularly want either.”

A gust of brine-scented wind carried his quiet reply out to the mountains, rising out of the north and the east like a bent, gnarled backbone, where no one heard it. He went inside, washed up, and put on presentable clothes, and kept holed away in his room for as long as he could.

But ugh, looking at it, and all the missing scenes... it makes me so sad 😭

Thanks for the ask! 😘

[asktheghosthost]

The winter of 1969...

There came a knock at the attic door, and all three brides--Priscilla, Emily, and Constance--looked up from what they were doing. (Needle point, reading, and solitaire, respectively.) The trio of women glanced at one another in silent debate. It was finally the eldest, Priscilla, who got up to answer it.

Priscilla was one of the key reasons people feared the attic. With her gaunt, skeletal form, she looked more corpse than spirit. Emily and Constance had yet to make their appearances public, at least on the guest tours.

"If it isn't my favorite bevy of brides! Good evening, ladies," Dorian Gracey greeted. "May I come in?"

Priscilla turned to the others. They shrugged, so she stepped aside.

"Thank you, m'dear." He slipped in, giving a grateful bob of his head as he did so.

Over the last few months since the Haunted Mansion's opening, the young master of the house was slowly becoming less of an enigma. It was no secret he wasn't overly fond of the mortals "traipsing about his ancestral home," but he was becoming used to the idea. He'd appointed himself an ambassador, not only around the Mansion, but with the other denizens of Disneyland as well.

Emily stood up, putting aside her novel. "What brings you here, Master Gracey?"

"Dorian, please," he corrected with a smile. Then he reached into his jacket, pulled out some envelopes, and began to hand them out. "I'm inviting everyone to The Haunted Mansion's first Solstice Shindig! I know it's been a rough start these last few months, putting on a show for people, sharing a home with so... so many ... complete, utter strangers, and... ugh. Anyway! I thought this would be a great way to get to know one another. We'll have party games, dancing, story telling..."

Trailing off, he watched Constance, who was reading her invitation with a frown.

"I'm... I'm actually wanted?" she asked. She knew her reputation around the house. Most had heard of her murderous past, or caught the whispers of hearsay. The Ghost Host was adamant she not be visible to guests, and she was to be on her best behavior, lest she be given the boot.

"Of course, m'dear. You're a member of this household, after all." His smile twitched. "Um, I wasn't sure about them, though..." He gestured to a quintet of wedding photos, all of which were of her and her various grooms. "I mean, I wasn't sure if they're actually here, or if those are just photographs..."

A groom turned his face to look at him.

"Oh, hi." Dorian waggled a finger gun at him and clicked his tongue. "How's it going?"

As the other two brides giggled and started planning their night, Constance sat back down on her trunk, staring at the invitation, chin in her hand, and debated going.

She didn't like leaving the attic, cramped as it was; too much judgment to be found downstairs. She got along well enough with the other two women, she supposed. If anything, there was a quiet tolerance, but there wasn't a strong sense of friendship. Maybe she would have fun, and make a friend or two.

A new year to make a new start.

One of her former husbands was sticking his tongue out at her. She put his picture face down.

***

The ballroom was full of ghosts laughing and dancing and conversing. No one was talking to her, though, but she'd expected that. So she sat at the table, empty seats on either side of her. There weren't many spirits like her in the mansion, none with such a checkered past, save for maybe Bluebeard and Captain Gore. No one had ever seen them, however, and she wouldn't engage women-hating pirates in a conversation, anyway.

She gazed down into her glass of punch, still not drinking any after twenty minutes of holding it. A piece of lemon was bobbing on the surface, like a dismembered appendage in a pool of blood...

See, this is why no one talks to you! Psychopath!

She shook her head, mind made up she'd retire early, when someone plopped down next to her. Constance turned to see big, blue eyes, and an even bigger smile. They were framed by loosely wound buns, one on each side of the woman's oval face and one on top of her head. An... interesting hairstyle, to say the least.

"Hi! I haven't seen you around." She held out a gloved hand to shake. Constance hesitantly took it. Her grip was stronger than it seemed.

"I'm Sarah Slater, but everyone calls me Sally."

"Constance... Hatchaway."

"Nice to meet you, Miss Hatchaway!'

"You can... You can call me Connie." Her cheeks burned. No one called her "Connie." She'd never once suggested it before. Maybe it was Sally's melodic southern twang, or that pretty smile, but she wanted this conversation to keep going. "I stay up in the attic. With the other brides." She ventured a sip of her punch. It wasn't bad.

"Oh. I know how that is. I'm in the portrait gallery, the little round one..." She deepened her voice. "With no windows and no doors, ha ha ha!" In her normal voice, she added, "I'm usually..." She struck a pose, lips tight, eyelids drooped, and hands held as if she clutched something, (a parasol, Constance quickly realized). "All day, in my painting. Just me and Nathaniel."

Constance tried to hide the twinge of disappointment she suddenly felt. "Nathaniel?"

"He's my pet alligator. I didn't bring him tonight. Scares the others too much."

Constance let out a tiny sigh of relief. "They're just cowards. Not everyone can have a dog, you know."

Sally giggled at that. "And especially not a dog that ate them. He didn't mean it, though. I shouldn't have set up that flimsy rope over his pond."

Chatter and cheers caused both women to turn and look at the center of the ballroom. There stood Dorian with a spotlight shining on him. On top of his head, he was balancing a pyramid of three full martini glasses. A row of a half-dozen lined each arm from shoulder to wrist, and he was trying to sip out of one while not spilling any of the others.

Sally rolled her eyes. "To think I was once engaged to that."

"Ew," Constance teased. "Why?"

Sally gave her shoulder a playful push with her fingertips. "It was this... sham thing we agreed upon, to keep our families from bothering us. You know how it was back then."

Constance nodded. Forced courtships, arranged marriages, not knowing what kind of man your husband was until the honeymoon... It was part and parcel to being a woman, especially in those days. She tried not to ponder how much the mortal world had changed since her death. Maybe if she were alive now, she wouldn't have done what she did...

"He's a sweetheart, really," Sally continued.

They were interrupted by applause and saw that not only had he finished his drink, he was going to try to down the others.

"But lordy is he an idiot." The two shared a laugh at that.

Suddenly, the spotlight-- its origins still supernatural and unknown-- was on Sally.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen," the Ghost Host's voice flowed through the ballroom, "our own bewitching ballerina, Miss Sally Slater, will dazzle us with a dance from 'The Nutcracker Suite.'"

"Oop, I'm up." Sally sprang from her chair. "Wish me luck, darlin'!"

Constance gave a tiny wave. "Break a leg."

The music started, courtesy of the graveyard minstrels and the organist. Sally was practically glowing, not only from the reflections of sparkling tinsel and candles, but an inner joy that poured outward from her as she twirled and leapt and twisted.

Being what and who they were, it was still a macabre presentation, but an eerily beautiful one. Her torso, which had been separated from her hips at death, spun independently, so her top half went clockwise while her legs went counter. Arms could spin all the way around at the shoulder, as if she really were a windup toy princess.

Constance didn't want to take her eyes off her. It was the most gorgeous display she'd ever seen.

Gorgeous... Dismembered parts. What is wrong with you?!

Shoving herself up out of her chair, she excused herself and bolted past the applauding ghosts. She didn't catch the whispered, "Connie?" as she raced past the bowing Sally.

Tears blurred her vision. Not knowing where she was going, she went down one hall and then the next.

"Constance!"

Ignore it. Keep going.

When she finally stopped, she found herself surrounded by towering, wooden walls. And above...

Above was that mesmerizing ballerina, her face solemn as she held her parasol aloft.

She's a princess. And I'm a monster.

"Connie!"

Constance turned to see Sally come through the wall towards her. She froze, too ashamed to run.

"What happened?" Sally put a hand on her arm. "You took off like you had a wasp in your veil."

Shaking her head, Constance struggled to say something coherent. Her thoughts were racing. "I'm... I'm not... You're--"

Sally's eyes locked onto hers. "Just breathe, darlin'."

"I don't belong here!"

"What? Now why on earth would you say that?"

"I don't! I-- I'm a monster! I murdered men, and you... you're a graceful, innocent... beautiful woman. They won't even trust me to be part of the tours."

Sally blinked, but only paused for a beat to digest this. "Well, you wouldn't hurt anyone now, would you?"

"No. I mean, why would I? I'm dead. I can't buy anything anymore. I can't get married anymore. My collection is nice to look at, but all it can do is collect dust."

Sally took Constance's hands in hers. "We can't change our pasts, we can only fix the now to make a better future. And call me sentimental, but I think we're all here in this weird, creepy place for a reason. You'll get your chance to prove yourself."

"I wish I could do that now."

At that moment, Sally happened to catch a sprig of green above them. Dangling from a gargoyle sconce's foot was mistletoe. She blushed and started to giggle, causing Constance to roll her eyes upwards to see it, too.

Her own face tinted pink, she quickly kissed Sally's cheek.

"If that was, um, unwanted, I'm... I probably shouldn't have--"

She was interrupted with a soft kiss on the lips. Wrapping their arms around one around, they held each other in the deepening kiss, not caring about the party continuing without them.

This would be a new beginning after all.

[darling-cas]

Marry Me (Samlaena/Rowaelin)

Opps. My hand slipped. My bad.

I was listening to my Pity Party playlist and the song Marry Me by Thomas Rhett came on. That's when this idea formed in my head and because I’m in an angsty mood myself lately... here you go. It’s not my best but I hope you still enjoy.

Warning: Angst and heartbreak. Again, my bad.

My Writing Masterlist

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"Will you marry me?”

Sam turned to Aelin, her blonde hair flowing in pigtails down her back. She kicked her legs back and forth from where they hung over of her treehouse, her knees covered in grass stains from when they were playing pirates earlier.

Her wide gaze locked with his, intense even at the tender age of seven. Sam’s own young mind took a moment to realize what she was asking him before he scrunched up his nose.

“That means I have to kiss you.”

Aelin shrugged her small shoulders. “We could hug instead. Mommy hugs daddy all the time.”

“Why do you want me to marry you?” He questioned, curiosity getting the better of him.

A soft breeze blew up, ruffling Sam’s hair as Aelin picked at the dirt on her hands. 

“I want to get married someday and mommy said she wants me to marry someone who is kind and nice to me,” she explained, eyes flicking to him once more. “You’re nice to me. And you're my friend. So why shouldn’t we get married?”

Weariness slowly started to creep in as Sam’s gaze moved to his house across the street and back to Aelin. “You want to get married now?”

“No dumbie,” Aelin rolled her eyes. “Daddy said I can’t get married until I’m thirty.”

“Good,” Sam sighed in relief. “Because I told mama I’d be home for supper.”

“So you will marry me someday?” Aelin asked, pushing herself on her knees as she turned to face him.

“Sure,” Sam shrugged. “But no kissing.”

“No kissing.” Aelin agreed with a nod, a wide grin lighting up her face. It was a grin Sam couldn’t help but return.

At such a young age, he didn’t know what love was. He knew, from his mama, you married someone you cared about deeply. He cared about Aelin, she was his best friend, so why wouldn’t he marry her someday?

He sat there, watching as she laughed and babbled on and on about their future wedding. The whole while, there was a grin on his face.

Even at seven years old, he couldn’t help but think of Aelin as his girl.

Sam pulled off his helmet, shaking his wet hair out of his face. He sat down on the beach, the roar of the crowd ringing around him, wiping sweat off his forehead as he switched with Aedion.

He picked up the water bottle next to him, drinking deeply, before daring to glance over his shoulder.

His eyes found her right away.

She was sat next to Nehemia, dressing in their school colors. Her hair fell in long waves around her. She was laughing and smiling, that dazzling smile she gave everyone but him. No, she had her own smile for him. Her real smile. The one she only gave those who were truly important to her.

It was the smile that made his heart leap out of his chest.

He could feel his cheeks start to heat, he was staring too long. But he couldn’t help it, and just as he was about to look away, her gaze met his.

Those gold-blue eyes shined in the field lights. Her smile went from grand to lopsided, crocked, a dimple forming in her right cheek as she waved frantically at him.

Sam could have died happy then and there from just that look.

He waved back, giving her his own smile, before turning back around. He didn’t want her to see the blush on his cheeks. He had gone this long keeping his crush on his best friend a secret, he didn’t want to blow it now.

Even mind the way her eyes lit up when she saw him. No, he tried not to think about that. Or the smile he had only seen her give him. Or the way she came to his football games enough though she couldn't stand watching the spot. No, Sam didn’t want to think of any of this. But it was no good. Throughout the rest of the game, through their big win, the celebrations, the drive to Aedion’s for the after party, she was on his mind.

But she was always on his mind, every day and every night. 

And now, she was cuddled next to him on the couch. Music blasted throughout the house around them, the room dimly lit. Aelin was laughing at something Lysandra said. It was a musical sound, one Sam wanted to bottle up. But he couldn’t. So he settled for pulling her closer as he swigged his beer. He was serval bottles in at this point, enough to make him not care about how cozy they looked together. While Aelin was drunk to the point were she was touchy, clinging to him as if he was all hers and no one elses.

The ironic thing was, she already had him and didn’t know it.

“You did good tonight, Courtland.”

Sam glanced down at the beauty in his arms, marveling at the way those eyes burning through him like embers.

“Did you doubt me, Galathynius?” He slurred, a lazy smirk forming on his lips.

“You just surprise me every day, is all.” Aelin simply shrugged, humor shining in her eyes.

“That's good, I need to keep you on your toes for when we finally get married. Keep things interesting,” Sam breathed, the beer making him braver than he actually was as he referenced their promise to each other ten years ago.

Aelin laughed, her face inching closer to his, eyes intense. The look only fueled his fire.

“Good,” she whispered. “Wouldn’t want us to have a boring marriage.”

She was so close, Sam could feel her breath on his face. He could smell the alcohol on her breath, the lavender of her shampoo. His heart was pounding in his chest. He was dreaming, he was sure of it, and he never wanted to wake up.

He moved closer, so close their lips brushed and he felt like he was going to pass out -

“Hey lovebirds!”

Sam jumped only to find Aedion and Dorian in front of them, making kissing faces. He could feel his face blaze as Aelin jumped up, punching before of them in the arm and pushing them across the home.

She turned back to Sam, laughter shining in her eyes as she shrugged.

Sam returned to smile, though it was strained, as he picked up his drink once more.

He downed half the bottle, trying to keep his cool, even as his heart dropped to his stomach.

Maybe, Aelin wasn’t meant to be his girl after all.

Aelin went off to University across the coast after high school. The day she left, Sam felt as if his heart had gone with her.

They never mentioned the almost kiss. Sam wasn’t even sure Aelin remembered it. But the next morning, they were still simply friends. And Sam never tried to change that again.

Maybe he should have told her before she left, how he felt. But what good would it do? She would still go off to University while he was stuck in their small hometown, working to save money so he himself could go to school.

No, it was better she didn’t know. They could both move on, live their lives. Yes, it was a good thing Sam never told Aelin he loved her.

Four years later, however, Sam cursed himself. He wished he never kept his mouth shut, wished he had said something.

Because four years later, when Aelin was officially done school, she came back home, bringing her fiance with her.

Because four years later, Sam found himself at an engagement party for the women he loved and the man she loved.

Sam clenched his champagne glass in his hand, taking a sip. He watched Aelin from against the room, surrounded by her friends - new and old - as she showed off her ring and talked about her wedding.

"Will you marry me?” She asked him all those years ago.

He said yes, but clearly, she changed her mind along the way.

Of course she did, she grew up. She grew into a gorgeous, amazing, firey women who was too good from him in the first place.

“Sam?”

Upon hearing his name, Sam turned around to see an unfamiliar men standing before him. With his tan skin, striking green eyes and stark white hair, it didn’t take him long to realize who he was.

Swallowing his pride, Sam nodded. “Yeah.”

The stranger gave him a small smile, holding out his hand, which Sam took in a shake.

“I’m Rowan,” the fiance introduced himself. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Finally?” Sam couldn’t help but ask.

“Aelin talks about you all the time,” Rowan explained. “It's nice to finally put a face to the name of her best friend.”

It wasn’t meant as a dig, didn’t sound like one at all, but it still felt like one.

Best friend. That's all he was.

With a strained smile, Sam nodded once more. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

He wanted to hate Rowan as bad. He wanted to find something wrong with him, a reason he could give Aelin to not marry him. But he couldn’t find one. Rowan was nice, genuine, generally trying to get to know him. And whenever he talked about Aelin, his face softened. A look took over, a look of pure love that shattered Sam’s heart in two.

And when Aelin looked over, her gaze meeting Sam’s as she gave him a wave and a smile of pure happiness, before her eyes moved to Rowan. And Sam felt his heart get ripped out of his chest as she gave Rowan his lopsided, crocked, right-cheek-dimple smile, beckoning him forward.

Rowan gave him a pat on the back before walking towards Aelin. Sam couldn’t bring himself to look away as a look of complete and utter love lit up Aelin’s face. As Rowan pulled her into his arms and placed a cherished kiss on her lips.

It was a look Sam wanted to be on the receiving end of. It was a kiss Sam wanted to give her every day.

But now, he’d lost his change.

He lost his girl.

It was wedding day.

The sun was shining high in the blue, cloudless sky as a breeze rustled the tree leaves.

The guests were probably sitting down at this point, waiting for the bride to walk down the aisle towards her groom. Gifts were probably piled high, food getting ready to be served, pictures being taking and chatter being made.

Rowan was probably standing, surrounded by his grooms as they made one final toast before making their way to stand in front of the altar.

Aelin’s mother was probably crying at this point, along with her father. The sight of their only daughter on her wedding day pushing them to tears.

And Aelin... there was no probably. She definitely looked breathtaking. No matter what her dress looked like, how her hair was styled or make-up done, there was no doubt in his mind that Aelin Galathynius looked absolutely stunning on her wedding day.

But he wouldn’t know, wouldn’t see her, not today.

While Aelin walked down the aisle on her father's arm, towards the man who owned her heart, Sam sat by himself at a rundown bar downtown.

He was dressed in his suit, for he had planned to go to his best friends wedding. But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t sit there and watch the love of his life marry someone else.

She told him, all those years ago, she wanted to get married. Even asked him to be the one to marry her. But they were kids back then. They grew up. She still wanted to get married, just not to him.

With his glass in a tight grip, Sam downed its contents in one go.

Today would be the happiest day of Aelin’s life, and the most heartbreaking of Sam’s.

For after today, his girl wasn’t his girl anymore.

Aelin was now Rowan’s.

And there was nothing for Sam to do but drink, wish her the best, and count down the moments until he lost his heart. Until he lost the love of his life.

[serenitykrp]

—WARNING : suspect may be armed and dangerous! LAZULI VALIER, code named CASSIOPEIA , is a CREW MEMBER on an unidentified firefly-class ship, traveling through the ‘Verse under the radar. They are known for being charming, meticulous, and skillful, but beneath the surface, they have proven to be detached, facetious, and vain. Although their origin lies somewhere on their home planet SIHNON, they have been caught by stardust and lost to the great expanse.

YOU ARE YOUR OWN EXPLOSION, BRING US YOUR VERY BEST VIOLENCE.

Lazuli presents himself as personable and charming, a shoulder to be cried on, and an ear to listen to all the woes a person can experience, as to be expected from his years of training. He’s highly educated, and skilled in a number of disciplines, but he never makes whomever he’s with feel as though he considers himself smarter than they are, even if he often is. He’s exacting about his appearance, spending what can be considered an inordinate amount of time on his dress and grooming. Everything about him is a carefully constructed and curated façade.

A very, very privileged few are allowed to see behind the curtain, to see the man underneath who at times is still a small boy, sent far away from his home in the hopes of finding a better life, that wants to be the one that is held and comforted, rather than doing the holding and comforting himself. These are the people that know Sora, not Lazuli.

THERE IS NO NEWS, THERE IS ONLY THE TRUTH OF THE SIGNAL.

If Lazuli Valier were to write the memoirs of his life, the early chapters would tell the story of an idyllic life, with loving parents, limitless resources and access to all means of culture and education. Unfortunately, that story wouldn’t match the reality.

Born Yoshida Sora, the youngest of five children in a middle-class family, he was only nine when he was sent to one of the Companion’s Guild Houses, along with his older sister. Though younger than normally accepted for training, Sora’s quick mind and eagerness to learn soon impressed the elders, and it wasn’t long before he surpassed his sister in their lessons. Where she eventually failed and was sent back to their family, Sora thrived, absorbing every single bit of knowledge thrown his way.

In his teenage years his looks also began to impress others, and he found he could use his androgyny to his advantage. He hadn’t even finished his training when he caught the attention of the man who would later become his first client. Dorian was a collector of all things beautiful, as he introduced himself, and it was he that inspired Sora’s new name. The small blue rock was barely more than a chip, set in a pendant than hung from a cord, but it was the most beautiful thing Sora had ever seen. And so he started calling himself Lazuli instead, eventually adding on Valier as a last name. It felt right to him, as by the time he finished his training and took his place as a registered Companion, he barely remembered anything at all of his life before he’d lived in the Guild House.

It wasn’t long before Lazuli had a respectable number of clients, his looks and grace making him popular with both men and women. It was Dorian that always came first, and it was to be Dorian that caused his fall.

Only 18 when they’d first met, a small part of Lazuli had always hoped to become Dorian’s permanent companion, even though things like romance and love had been drilled out of him during his training. The man spoke regularly of a long-term contract, but the years passed and one never came. Lazuli didn’t give up the hope for it until shortly after his 25th birthday. The client registry didn’t only show clients that had been blacklisted. It showed those who had contracted out Companions, and the duration of those contracts. And there, below Dorian’s name, was listed a different, younger Companion, and a yearlong contract. “You’re getting too old for me,” Dorian had laughed, when Lazuli contacted him in a moment of weakness. “You know I like my companions young and pretty.”

Lazuli let the pain fester for a while, pulling it deep inside him before using it to build an iron cage around his heart. Never again would he let himself feel for another, and never again would anyone get close to his heart.

Though he’d never before left Sihnon, he decided to join a ship and travel instead, taking himself to clients rather than the other way around. He contracted to a luxury liner first, but found the environment to stifling and unstimulating for him. He never thought he’d wind up working on a ship as small as the Serenity, but the chance not only to work as a Companion, but to occasionally use all the skills and knowledge he has as such to assist with jobs and other less-than-legal operations was exactly what he discovered he needed to keep the ennui of his former life at bay.

[shannaraisles]

Set In Darkness

Chapter: 56 Author name: ShannaraIsles Rating: M Warnings: None Summary: She’s a Modern Girl in Thedas, but it isn’t what she wanted. There’s a scary dose of reality as soon as she arrives. It isn’t her story. People get hurt here; people die here, and there’s no option to reload if you make a bad decision. So what’s stopping her from plunging head first into the Void at the drop of a hat?

The Ties That Bind Us

Rory could be wrong, but it seemed as though someone might have had a hand in making sure the sun was shining warm on the day chosen for the wedding.

The evidence of the last snow had been thawed away by mid-morning, the grass sparkling wetly in the courtyard as men and women rushed to and fro, finishing the last of the preparations for the marriage to be celebrated at noon. Josephine had outdone herself - thanks to her meticulous attention to detail, all scaffolding in the main hall had been cleared; the completed mosaics on the walls gleamed; the stained glass behind the dais had been finished on time, pouring a gorgeous dappling of bright color down onto the dais itself. The throne had been taken away for the day, replaced with a bower twined with Crystal Grace and fragrant embrium; the sunken feasting areas were set with chairs for the guests to take their places.

Kaaras had generously offered his own quarters for Rylen to be got ready for his big moment. The Starkhaven captain had been up there since last night, in the solid company of his brother and the Qunari Inquisitor, recently joined by Cullen, too, all three doing their utmost to make sure that he was as ready to take his vows as anyone could hope for. Vivienne had offered her own rooms for Evy to prepare in, though she, thankfully, had vacated the chambers almost as soon as Evy, Edith, and Rory had ventured there that morning. Francoise, the seamstress, was beside herself with excitement, finally able to show someone the beautiful dress and be showered with praise, even as they maneuvered the thing onto the bride herself.

As noon approached, the hall began to fill ... not simply with the nobles present in Skyhold, but with soldiers, templars, workers; all the friends both Rylen and Evy had made over the past months together. Elves, dwarves, Qunari, and humans were there, the Inquisition stalwarts quite happy to glare human nobles from Orlais, Ferelden, and the Free Marches into silencing their muttered disapproval of the sheer diversity of the celebration forming around them. Josephine was still directing the operation, her board in hand, as the minutes ticked toward the zenith of the day. The time was fast approaching that everyone had been looking forward to almost since the day they had arrived in Skyhold.

A little collusion with Dorian meant that the altus entered in his finest regalia and drew all eyes to himself, allowing for Evy to be rushed across the balcony overlooking the hall and into the library without anyone below looking up and getting a peek at her. This was the signal for Jim to run up to the Inquisitor's quarters and let Rylen's brother know it was time to bring the groom downstairs as the minstrels started to play, providing a little underlying music for the chatter that filled the hall.

In the rotunda, Rory embraced her friend - her cousin - warmly, kissing her cheek.

"You look beautiful," she promised Evy. "He's the luckiest man in Skyhold, and he knows it."

Evy blushed, dark ringlets brushing her cheeks from the elaborate crown of curls her mother had worked so hard to create. "I'm glad you're here, Rory," she said softly. "If you hadn't trusted me to help you, all those months ago, I don't know where I'd be today."

"If you hadn't been there, I don't know where I would be, either," Rory told her honestly, aware that Lady Edith and Bann Galen were watching their interaction with more than idle interest. "I have to go to my seat. Just remember ... tits and teeth."

Evy snorted her way into an outburst of giggles, nodding excitedly as Rory drew away, carefully opening the door into the hall just enough to slide out without letting anyone see inside. Kaaras was in evidence, standing beside Mother Giselle on the dais, looking extremely uncomfortable to be there at all. She couldn't blame him; he was Andrastian, to a certain extent, but he really wasn't comfortable with the fact that Rylen and Evy had asked for him to bless their marriage. Leliana appeared to have taken Josephine in hand; the two women were sitting together at the very front of the hall, not a quill or board in sight.

Rory made her way down the aisle as the stragglers began to find their seats, flashing Kaaras an encouraging grin as she found her own place in front of Helene and Cassandra, near the door to the Inquisitor's tower. A few minutes later, Cullen came into view, sidling into the seat beside hers as Rylen walked to his own position before the dais, his brother close at his back.

"All under control?" she asked quietly.

Cullen glanced down at her, the taut pull of his scar betraying a smile just barely held in check. "As it will ever be," he murmured. "Thank the Maker we decided to skip this part."

"Tell me about it," she drawled in amusement, happy to let him wrap his bare hand about hers, always feeling that gentle thrill when his thumb smoothed over his mother's ring on her finger.

A burst of fanfare trumpets announced the arrival of the bride and, like everyone else, Rory rose to peer through the gathered dignitaries and friends to see Evelyn Trevelyan take her last steps as an unmarried woman. She really was beautiful, walking between her parents with a measured pace. Francoise had outdone herself with the gown - it was a gorgeous confection of antiqued lace, bare shoulders, full sleeves, fitted bodice narrow to the waist until the skirt flared from the hips. A real princess gown, perfectly suited to the beautiful woman wearing it. Evy truly was radiant, her happiness at this moment setting her a-glow as she took her place at Rylen's side. Rylen himself was attired in the best formal-wear Josephine had been able to procure for him, the tunic a rich crimson that suited his dusky coloring well. They were a perfect pair, and as they looked at one another in the dappled fall of light from the stained glass above them, there could be no doubt that this was a match made in love.

Seated once more, Rory couldn't stop smiling, deeply proud of her friends for following their hearts when the world around them could so easily have stolen this happiness away. As the vows were spoken, she glanced to Cullen, leaning into his arm as he kissed her brow, both of them recalling their own vows spoken not so very long ago. Behind them, she heard Cassandra blow her nose discreetly, biting her lip to keep from giggling. The Seeker really was a hopeless romantic. She deserved the love Kaaras had to give her, if only she could let herself accept it. When the time came for the Inquisitor to speak, Rory thought she could hear a hidden message for the woman he loved in the words he offered as a blessing.

"We are greeted by fresh faces enthralled by true love, and should nurture that above all," Kaaras declared, one large hand laid over the joined fingers of the newly-wedded pair before him. "But we cannot completely turn from duty. Passion may burn, but duty requires two hearts with strong wills to tend it. A strong pairing finds its own nobility. Passion burns bright. In a time of uncertainty, it brings us hope. Let it flare so that all can see. That joy is not held back by war or need or name. This moment is for you and your union, no one else. But we are privileged to witness it, and to celebrate with you. Be happy, above all."

"Wise words," Cullen murmured as the gathered witnesses rose for Mother Giselle's last blessing. "Did he write them?"

"I think Varric may have helped a little," Rory whispered back, sharing a grin with her own husband as they raised their hands to applaud the union joined before them. "Left to his own devices, Kaaras might just have told them to live long and happy, and make lots of babies."

Cullen chuckled quietly. "Then I think I owe that dwarf a drink," he admitted in a rueful tone, unconsciously slipping a hand about her waist as they turned to watch Evy and Rylen escorted out into the sunshine by her parents and his brother. "They deserve this."

"They do," she agreed happily, glancing to the row behind.

Cassandra's face was suspiciously wet, but she was at least under control. Helene, on the other hand, was sniffling into her gloves merrily, and she wasn't the only one showing her pleasure in the union. There were tears and smiles, warm laughter and the rising tide of congratulatory chatter, as the various nobles and not-so-nobles moved to clear the hall for the preparations to begin for the feast. Kaaras thumped down from the dais, making a beeline for Cassandra, and for once, Cullen didn't even look suspicious when Rory paused, making a show of adjusting the hang of his mantle so she could eavesdrop.

"Was it ... did I do it right?" the Inquisitor asked the Nevarran Seeker worriedly. "I didn't know if -"

"It was beautiful, Inquisitor," Cassandra interrupted him, her smile just visible from the corner of Rory's eye. "I ... I think you performed it very well."

Kaaras visibly relaxed, his familiarly boyish smile shining forth at this reassurance. "Will you dance with me, later?" he asked hopefully.

Cassandra hesitated. "I-I ... do not know if that would be appropriate," she demurred, and Cullen gripped Rory's elbows, meeting her gaze with an amused glint in his whiskey-lit eyes.

"Don't interfere," he warned his wife softly. "Just get a few cups of wine into her before the dancing starts."

Rory stared up at him, her eyes wide with surprise at this unexpectedly underhanded side of her commander. "I thought you didn't approve of distracting romances?" she asked, accusingly fond as he drew her away with the rest of the crowd.

"I don't believe anyone deserves a little distraction more than those two," he murmured innocently. "Except perhaps us."

"Am I not distracting enough anymore, or is it the romance that's lacking?" she asked with a playful smile.

He let loose a quiet laugh, turning to cup her jaw in his palm as he leaned down to her. "I'll show you later," he promised, lips brushing hers with a tender kiss that promised her a night she would not forget in a hurry.

But for now, and for several hours until then, they had friends to congratulate, to celebrate with, an evening of music and laughter and love, bringing something more than war and loss to Skyhold's walls for the first time in centuries. Surely not even the Dread Wolf could disapprove of that.

Short, I know, but I couldn't let Evy and Rylen's wedding pass by off-screen, as it were! And if you're interested ... here's the dress:

[aroixs]

HISTORY : DORIAN 

dear dorian,

the day that we agreed to work with one another, the day that you agreed to work with me, i set down some rules that you were to follow. i made it very clear that there would be consequences if these rules were not followed as expected. you know what these consequences are.

now… it has been brought to my attention that you were breaking those rules that we agreed upon. i don’t need to hear your side of things, because frankly i do not care.

you are to report to me at the usual location where you will be subject to the previously mentioned consequences.

yours truly,

kit.

           the letter instilled fear in his heart. and this is coming from a man who agreed to take money from people in exchange for drugs, and who was in charge of punishment if punishment was needed. it was a large task for the nineteen-year-old, but kit knew what he was made of. he’d seen him work, he knew that if dorian needed to, he would. without mercy, he would. that’s part of why kit wanted to recruit him so badly. he needed someone who would get what he needed using whatever means were necessary. dorian’s peers had groomed him and toughened him up for conflict since the earlier years of his adolescence, he felt made for the job. and yet nothing that he had encountered whilst working for kit terrified him as much as this did. he was respected for always following the rules… and now he’d been caught.

           what was his offence, you ask? stealing. there was this girl that had caught his eye. and the two of them fell in love. the downside is that their one true love is cocaine above all else. he would take a little extra and blame clients when he didn’t receive the payment in full. it was sneaky, or so he thought. blinded by love, convinced BY his love that it was going to be okay. as long as he didn’t act nervous when questioned by kit, as long as he gave answers that he wanted to hear, she promised dorian he would be in the clear.

          dorian’s hands shook as he pulled boots on, not leaving the house without his jacket, knife, and cigarettes. it was a struggle to wait until he was out of the house to light it. he felt the anxiety coursing through his entire body, pulsating in waves of dread for what was to come. he’d be lucky if he made it out of this night alive. if he lost a finger or three, he would be thankful that kit had spared his life. he tried to keep his journey there free of worries, though it was near impossible to do. when his life was being threatened, it was hard to keep calm. ringing in his head was kit’s voice, recalling on the warning that, “stealing is punishable by death. just don’t do it, okay?” suddenly every single moment leading up to this moment was a regret.

           once he approached the usual location, he got in through the side entry way. they operated out of an old warehouse that was no longer in use, kit using whatever means he did to make sure that the cops never sniffed too hard around there. dorian had been warned to not ask questions he didn’t want answers to, and that pretty much steered him away from questioning really anything that happened. if kit wanted him to be aware of it, he would tell him. that’s at least how dorian liked to think about everything.

           “i was wondering if you’d even show up!” kit’s voice was louder than dorian anticipated, his face surprisingly calm. which made sense, because he was bound to me mad. he would be crazy if he wasn’t. what was not expected to be heard was the desperate grunts and moans of… a woman?

           everything was about to take a turn.

           he could recognize the eyes that looked to his own in desperation and fear. dorian’s first instinct was to call her name, the panic really starting to settle into him now. “yeongmi!!”

           now kit’s laughter filled up the empty warehouse, echoing all around them. dorian suddenly felt as though he was in a nightmare. the woman’s hands were secured to the chair she was seated in with duct tape, and there was rope in her mouth that was tied around the back of her head, to prevent her from talking. she had been crying, he could see the tear stains glistening in the dim lighting of the building. there was along table that was next to both her and kit, the light catching all of the blades of the knives that were laid out. dorian felt as though he was going to be sick, a hand clenching his stomach momentarily.

           “i warned you not to FUCK with me, dorian. what was the consequence of stealing from me?”

           silence. dorian didn’t know how to answer, his brain was a fog and it was turning up blanks. all he could do was stare into the eyes of the person he fell in love with, the one who he told his friends was the one for him. he felt as though she was the one for him. and right now that was all up in the air. he had to answer kit just right, needed to make s–

           “TODAY, DORIAN. i don’t have time for you to DICK AROUND. I asked you a fucking QUESTION. ANSWER ME.” his voice was loud now, face starting to get red with anger. he’d only seen the aftermath of kit’s anger after dealing with someone else. there was a reason why he never saw those guys anymore.

           dorian’s mind was so fogged that he didn’t notice the weapon that kit now held in his hands, and how dangerously close the blade was to yeongmi’s skin. her screams made that apparent, and snapped him back to the reality of the situation. “death, sir.”

           “and yet, you still had the balls to do it? if you weren’t stealing from me, i might respect you. but i have to say, dorian, you are a fucking IDIOT.” there was laughter again, each chuckle turning dorian another shade of white.

           “i’m sorry, sir.”

           “sorry doesn’t bring it back, dorian. sorry is fucking SHIT in this business. you of all people should know that.” he walked around the figure of the woman in the chair, ensuring that dorian could see the blade that was in her hand before he was dragging it across her skin. it didn’t matter where the blade landed, dorian didn’t have the guts to look. her screaming brought tears into his eyes that he quickly fought to go away. he didn’t need to appear weak. he went against the rules, and he had to accept his consequences.

            “please, sir, do it to me. do whatever you’re going to do to her, to me. let her go. hurt me, i can walk away with a few scars just – please.” his voice was desperate, pleading. and kit wasn’t about negotiations.

           “OH. she’s going to have a lot more than a few scars, dorian. think again about what the consequence is for what you’ve done.” as kit speaks, two men who had been looming in the shadows came to either side of dorian. each of them wrapped their arms with his, ensuring that he would not be able to run. no, he had to be a witness. dorian was too valuable, too good at his job for kit to say goodbye to him. but dorian could not simply evade punishment. no, that would be too easy.

           “what are you do–”

           “watch and learn, dorian. you’ve committed the crime, now you must be a man and suffer your consequences.”

           and watch, he did. he wasn’t given a choice. he tried to pull away from the hold the men had on him, but it was no use. soon he was reduced to screaming and crying, shouting the girl’s name that he once said so sweetly, in agony and desperation. his voice was not alone. and the two became the music for that night.

           within twenty minutes, the music ceased. the building fell silent, apart from kit’s heavy breathing. dorian was being held up only by the men at his side, everything having given out underneath him. he didn’t dare look, for he knew the sight would make him sick to his stomach. and as kit walked by, he patted him on the shoulder and grinned.

           “now you know. don’t you dare fuck up again, as you know what will happen if you do.”

[hazeldough]

i........ have a lot of feelings about tpodg with the announcement of the film adaption

disclaimer: i’m not mlm, so i can’t speak about that part of its narrative in place of mlm. plus, the film adaption was only recently announced and we don’t really have any details on it except that it exists and is set to have female leads. 

and while i’ve done my share of analysis on the book and some of wilde’s history and really passionate about both, there’s a lot i dont know yet or may be misinterpreting. my opinions and pov about tpodg and oscar wilde are subject to change the more i analyze the book and read about wilde’s life through his writings and the transcripts of his trials, so i’m open to reading other people’s opinion on the novel and film!

also, i got carried away and even busted out the copy i annotated in, so this got super lengthy. it’s mostly me reanalyzing the book after stepping away from it for a few months. 

oh, and spoilers ahead.

(i spent about 2 hours on this and it’s 4:27 am now.......... im already yelling @ a future me who is procrastinating on an essay, looking back at this moment thinking “hey, i wish u could put some of that focus and research into this thing right now” and hey......... hard same, buddy)

anyway.

 i just want the film adaption to not lose the essential themes and messages that come with tpodg and the weight it carried in wilde’s life.

it’s already not the best lgbt rep with its leads being assholes (dorian & henry) or (spoilers) ending up dead (basil). granted, the victorian era wasn’t the best time to make revolutionary strides in normalizing lgbt+ media, but it still was a novel that was written by a gay man that time period, drawing from his own experiences. 

wilde’s works primarily criticized english culture and society’s tendencies to put up a front for the public to save face for their personal lives. 

“My dear fellow, you forget that we are in the native land of the hypocrite.“

“Dorian,“ cried Hallward, “that is not the question. England is bad enough I know, and English society is all wrong. That is the reason why I want you to be fine. You have not been fine.“

Dorian & Basil (Chapter XII)

tpodg was no exception since it featured a lead who was groomed to believing that the downfall of others was the ultimate symbol of his love towards him and was eventually able to abuse/manipulate people on the regular through his charisma and get away with it because of his privileges. 

“Someone has killed herself for love of you. I wish that I had ever had such and experience. It would have made me in love for the rest of my life.“ (Lord Henry Wotton, Chapter VIII)

and it’s not like no one was aware that dorian had major red flags around him. because they did.

“Women who had wildly adored him, and for his sake had braved all social censure and set convention at defiance, were seen to grow pallid with shame or horror if Dorian Gray entered the room.“ (Chapter XI)

“Why is it, Dorian, that a man like the Duke of Berwick leaves the room of a club when you enter it? Why is it that so many gentlemen in London will neither go to your home nor invite you to theirs?... Why is your friendship so fatal to young men? There was that wretched boy in the Guards who committed suicide. You were his great friend.“ (Basil Hallward, Chapter XII)

(that whole paragraph is just basil talking about how men are afraid to be associated with dorian, there’s way more stuff, but i felt that info was enough)

even though there were consistent and frequent rumors that surrounded him. no one believed that this cherub looking guy was the reason that everyone who interacted with him either had their reputation ruined for life or were driven to suicide. 

(spoilers) basil wasn’t an exception to this, not believing that all the rumors surrounding his friend, muse, and for a lack of better term crush were true. he was so blinded by his love that dorian was capable of bringing on ruin ultimately led to his death. 

“But you, Doian, with your pure, bright, innocent face, and your marvellous untroubled youth-- I can’t believe anything against you.“ (Basil Hallward, Chapter XII)

even dorian’s motives in murdering basil was a result of his own misattributions. instead of taking ownership of his own behavior, he placed blame on basil and his portrait instead.

“The friend who had painted the fatal portrait to which all his misery had been due, had gone out of his life.“ (Chapter XIII)

and when dorian was close to confessing what he had done to his confidant, the person arguably more responsible than basil for leading him to his lifestyle? he didn’t believe dorian either.

"What would you say, Harry, if I told you that I had murdered Basil?”

(...)

“I would say, my dear fellow that you were posing for a character that doesn’t suit you. All crime is vulgar, just as  all vulgarity is a crime. It is not in you, Dorian, to commit a murder. I am sorry if I hurt your vanity by saying so, but I assure you it is true. Crime belongs exclusively to the lower orders. I don’t blame them in the smallest degree. I should fancy that crime was to them what art is to us, simply a method of procuring extraordinary sensations.“

(Dorian & Lord Henry, Chapter XIX)

after stepping away from the book for a few months, i feel like some reevaluation is due. i initially approached the book thinking that it would end up with an ambiguously happy ending, having only heard slivers about it and knowing that it was written by a gay man. i guess the part of me that’s very invested in good redemption arcs and lgbt books in ap eng lit just wanted a book to read that didn’t feature weak character development and/or heteronormative relationships. the closest books i got were their eyes, atss, and tpodg.

but now that i’m looking back at it, most likely unpopular opinion: i personally think that tpodg isn’t a lgbt story. (even if it was, it’s not the best representation for lgbt characters since it has a lot of tropes that we now see as overused and negative) 

to me, it’s just a story that has lgbt characters. meaning that while the novel focused on dorian, it focused on his morality, not his sexuality. dorian knew who he liked, since it was heavily implied that dorian had male and female lovers. the story wasn’t focused on his romantic or sexual relationships, but on how his morals took a nose dive as he developed into a grade-A fuck boy using his multiple failed relationships as evidence of that.

i’ve come to understand that character development doesn’t always mean getting a redemption arc. good character development is a character starting from point A and actively moving towards point B with minor interference by other characters. most of the time, it’s a character going from morally neutral/bad to good. this time, it’s a character going from neutral to bad.

i do agree that there’s a huge imbalance of lgbt characters being portrayed as predatory and abusive instead of flawed and needing of development, adding on to preexisting homophobia that’s rampant in most cultures. i also agree that there needs to be more positive representation of lgbt characters, by lgbt people, for lgbt people. 

at the same time, tpodg was written before we could even safely discuss and address these issues in public. i’m saying that because wilde got straight up jailed for “gross indecency” for just being a gay man existing. but i don’t think wilde was unaware of the repercussions he’d face when he stated that being gay was normal. most of his works were about calling out the hypocrisy of english society. even in his own testimony at trial, he stated:

"The Love that dare not speak its name" in this century is such a great affection of an elder for a younger man as there was between David and Jonathan, such as Plato made the very basis of his philosophy, and such as you find in the sonnets of Michelangelo and Shakespeare. It is that deep, spiritual affection that is as pure as it is perfect. It dictates and pervades great works of art like those of Shakespeare and Michelangelo, and those two letters of mine, such as they are.”

full quote and transcript found here

wilde was fully aware that he was going to be imprisoned for being gay and accepted it. not because he was ignorant of how society functioned, but because he knew how it functioned. and he was right. and i want to say that he was aware of this even when he was writing tpodg (which was about 4-5 years before his trials took place).

even if tpodg was going to be portrayed with male leads, the film would be in an era with a new perspective about mlm relationships. homophobia is still rampant in multiple societies, but lgbt people and mlm in particular have more of a voice and agency to defend themselves, look for, and create media that is representative of their experiences without needing to pander to heterosexual audiences. it still isn’t perfect, knowing that mlm still have trouble telling their stories in a field dominated by straight women who only see to use them as objects for fetishization instead of helping them create a safe platform to be heard.

basically, wilde’s context for writing tpodg is drastically different from how it can be interpreted and discussed today vs how it was in his time. based on that, i’m inferring that if writing a negative, heavily implied mlm relationship was deemed criminal enough as it is, i imagine he would have faced even more horrible punishment for writing a positive relationship between two men.

at the moment, we know nothing about the direction the film is going to follow, other than that it’ll be female-led. and, judging from the recent string of female led films (ghostbusters & oceans eight), i’m going to safely assume it’ll be a dominantly female cast, with dorian, basil, and henry being portrayed by women, and them all being wlw. (there’s a better word to describe this, it starts with a p, but it’s 4 AM now and i’m losing steam)

i’m not saying that the movie is going to be free from homophobic comments, but i am saying that it’ll face more criticism for not accurately portraying SGA (same gender attraction) relationship more than it featuring a SGA relationship at all.

even with the lack of information, i feel like if i’m going to be consistent about an opinion it’s this: the any adaption can do is to keep elements of the book while being cognisant of its perspective and purpose.

at the same time, i do want the film to deviate from the novel by being more open about the leads’ sexuality while also addressing the tropes that’s present in the society its set in and how it affects the narrative. 

to me, the film doesnt have to be a carbon copy of the novel, it just has to have the same vibe the book gave and to do that, it has to be aware of the issues wlw face in society today but also integrate it into the victorian era setting.

...yes, i know it sounds really confusing but i’ve spent around 2 hours on this already and it’s currently 4:24 AM. i’m doing my best my sleep deprived and coffee fueled brain can do atm. but again, i’m open to discuss this when i’m more put together and see more perspectives on the film adaption.

i am aware that there might not be enough elbow room for that to happen since society’s still pretty homophobic (albeit, not as much as before) as well as time constraints that come with adapting a book to a movie. still though, it’s something i’m interested to see be executed properly.

[darling-cas]

All Is Well: Lysaedion

TOG/ACOTAR Christmas Fic Co-written with @stag-of-the-north

Summary: It was just a boring office Christmas party. Nothing was supposed to come of it… Lysandra isn’t one to let people in. She’s had her heart caged up for hers with no one able to rip down her walls. Until Aedion walked into her life. MODERN AU

Note: This doll was the first person I collaborated with for this whole series. She was so excited and knew what she wanted from the moment I asked her to join me! Every time I wrote with her, I had the biggest smile on my face. Plus we wrote Lysaedion, how can you go wrong with Lysaedion honestly. She’s such a breath of fresh air and it was amazing to work with her. So thank you once more, darling. I’d write with you again without a second thought.

All Is Well Masterlist

——————–

The party was beautiful. Breathtaking even. Stepping through the door you almost completely forgot you were standing in a bland, grey and beige colored firm. But that wasn’t much of a surprise considering the time both Lysandra and Aelin had taken to plan this party. Even still, when Lysandra had walked into the elegantly lit room, her breath hitched.

Never mind that she knew what the room would look like, she was still caught by utter surprise.

Garland and fairy lights hung in strands from the walls, giving the room a dim, intimate, golden glow. Soft, jazzy, Christmas music filled the air. Candles decorated the few tables that were set off to the side, allowing room for a small dance floor. Lysandra had chuckled when Aelin had insisted upon dancing. Who danced these days? Especially at office parties. But it seemed that Aelin was a stickler for tradition. And whatever Aelin wanted, Aelin got.

With a deep sigh, Lysandra smoothed the velvet of her dress and shrugged off her coat. She had felt slightly overdressed, standing in front of the mirror in her bedroom just moments ago. Then her eyes caught sight of Aelin, who was laughing beside Rowan and Dorian. If anything, now she felt slightly underdressed.

Aelin, never one to miss an opportunity to dress up, had selected a spaghetti strapped crimson dress with a plunging neckline. The bodice was skin tight while the skirt fanned out at her waist, falling just above her knees. Lysandra herself wore a pale green dress had long sleeves and was tight, clinging to her every curve. But the fabric was so damn thin, she couldn’t help but shiver slightly as she walked from the taxi to the office building.

Lysandra’s eyes swept over the room, taking in everyone standing around, chatting. The glow of the Christmas tree in the corner mixed with the light flurries outside caused warmth to flow through her as her eyes caught a head of blonde hair. Her heart started to beat faster, and despite herself, a smile tugging on the corners of her lips.

Aedion Ashryver stood at the far end of the room, a cup of something dark in his hand. And gods above, he looked far better than anyone should look in a simple dark oxford and tan pants, golden locks left loose around his shoulders and tousled, as if he’d been running his hand through his hair all night.

Heat warmed her freezing cheeks. Damn him and his genetics. Damn him for making her feel this way. She didn’t want him to make her feel this way.

Lysandra steeled herself, drawing in a breath. Tossing her coat in the pile on an empty table, she walked across the empty dance floor. Aelin’s face lit up with a brilliant smile, her arm leaving Rowan’s waist as she strode towards Lysandra.

“Lys!” Aelin called, her wine coming dangerously close to spilling as she marched in her six-inch heels. “You’re late.”

Lysandra sighed, an airy laugh leaving her lips as she pulled Aelin into a tight hug. “I’m sorry.”

Aelin pulled back and set her free hand on Lysandra’s shoulder, her brows furrowing. Even tipsy, Aelin could read her like an open book.

“What’s wrong,” Aelin whispered, “Did something—”

Lysandra shook her head, her loose hair sliding over her bare shoulder. “I’m okay, Aelin, I promise.”

Aelin looked suspicious, but didn’t press the matter. No, she only steered Lysandra back towards the little group that had gathered in the corner.

Manon and Dorian stood together, both of them talking to Rowan. Manon, of course, had gone for a much more subdued look than Aelin or Lysandra. But even with her short, wrapped, skin-tight black dress, she looked as if she stepped out of a fashion magazine.

Lysandra gave them a striking smile as she stepped up beside them.

“Where on earth did you get that dress?”  Manon looked her up and down. “It’s making me reconsider Princeling here.”

Lysandra laughed as  Dorian rolled his eyes, something that happened often when Lysandra, Aelin and Manon were all in the same room.

Aelin snickered. She wrapped an arm around Lysandra’s shoulders, waggling her perfectly groomed eyebrows at Manon.

“You can consider it all you want, witch, but she’s mine.” Aelin sipped at her wine, giving Rowan an exaggerated wink.

Rowan shook his head, a chuckle leaving his lips just as Lysandra elbowed Aelin. Probably a bit too hard.

“I don’t know why he loves you so much.” She teased, though she wasn’t completely joking.

Anyone and everyone knew Aelin and Rowan were a modern day love story. Not many people found that kind of love. Not these days anyway. The love between Aelin and Rowan… it was an everlasting flame. Burning big and bright for all to see, but not to touch. Aelin was made for Rowan, and Rowan was made for Aelin. Love didn’t seem that simple. Hell, love wasn’t that simple. But somehow, with Aelin and Rowan, it just… was.

And though she’d never tell them, Lysandra felt like she would forever be just a little bit jealous.

Aelin pulled away from Lysandra and swaggered back to Rowan, wrapping her arm around him and squeezing his side.

“Because I am an insanely beautiful lawyer who kicks ass both in and out of the courtroom. And because I put up with his bullshit just as much as he puts up with mine.” Aelin smirked.

“So humble,” Rowan murmured, which earned him a pinch on the side.

Lysandra chuckled again, glancing away for the briefest moment. Yet, her eyes still managed to find their way to the back of the room. To Aedion.

Seeing him standing there in the dim lighting, a breathtaking smile on his lips, it caused her stomach to lunge. It caused knots to form as she longed to be close to him. Even from across the room, she could see the gold of his eyes shining in the candlelight. It caused electricity to race through her veins.

This was all from just one, brief and fleeting glance. And it both exhilarated and frightened her beyond belief.

Lysandra wasn’t one to let these feelings in. She spent a long time building up her walls, learning to keep those feelings at bay. She’d been hurt in the past, and she wasn’t going to let that happen again.

Then, in walks Aedion, and all her plans basically go to shit. Those walls practically begging to come down.

And the most terrifying thing of it all was that she liked the idea of letting him in.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a squeal that could have only come from Aelin.

“Oh, I love this song!” Aelin set her wine glass down on the table they had all gathered around and turned to Rowan, hands outstretched. “We have to dance.”

For the first time since she’d known the man, Rowan flushed. His cheeks were a shade of red so dark it nearly matched Aelin’s dress.

“I, Aelin, uh—” He stammered, but then Aelin was grabbing his hand and dragging him to the center of the room.

Lysandra couldn’t contain her laughter even if she wanted to. The sight of a six-foot tall muscled man awkwardly dancing to cheesy Christmas music was enough to make anyone snicker.

“Come on, witchling,” Dorian purred, extending a broad hand.

Manon rolled her golden eyes, but Lysandra caught the slight smile that pulled at Manon’s crimson lips as Dorian tugged her out onto the dance floor.

Slowly, and in a manner that reminded Lysandra of all those awkward middle school dances she had attended, couples began drifting away from the sides of the room and to the center. There was Elide and Lorcan, the latter looking a little out of place dancing along to the music. And Chaol and Yrene, who were both laughing as they danced.

The slightest bit of despair settled in on Lysandra. She’d be the first to admit she was a strong woman, she could take care of herself. But as she stood there, watching as couples filled the dance floor, swaying to jazzy Christmas music, the loneliness started to sink in. It was Christmas after all, and who liked to be alone on Christmas?

Subconsciously, Lysandra found her eyes drifting back to the table Aedion was standing at a moment ago. And despite herself, her heart sank when she realized he wasn’t there anymore.

“Looking for someone?”

Lysandra almost jumped out of her skin. Heart pounding, she spun around, hair flying over her shoulder.

Aedion was standing there, hands shoved in the pockets of his pants. His hair was tousled, lips graced with a lopsided smile as his eyes shined.

The sight did little to calm her already racing heart.

“Aedion,” she breathed, “I- I wasn’t looking for-” a pause as she sighed, brushing back her hair “-you scared me.”

Her heart thumped a little harder when Aedion’s smile widened at her stumbling. She never stumbled. Not in words and certainly not in actions. What was he doing to her?

“Well, I certainly didn’t mean to.” Aedion looked her over, from head to toe, and smiled. He wasn’t looking at her the way most men did, like she was a piece of meat and they were starving. No, Aedion’s eyes held something else. There was a tenderness to them. A softness.

“Are you enjoying the party?” She asked, for a lack of nothing else to say.

Aedion turned away, his eyes flicking about the room. He exhaled deeply, and shrugged. “It looks wonderful, Lys-” Her stomach did an impromptu flip. “- But I’ve never been one for these kinds of things.”

She nodded, turning back to the little crowd of people dancing. Her stomach flipped, for what had to have been the eighth time that night, as she thought of going home to an empty apartment. She had sent Evangeline to stay with Miss Phillipa, a dear friend of Aelin’s, for the night.

She stared at her friends, all of them laughing and glowing and- And she stopped herself because those thoughts were petty and useless.

Lysandra sighed and looked back to Aedion, who, it seemed, had been staring at her.

“Do you want to step outside on the balcony? Get some fresh air?”

Lysandra gaped a bit at Aedion. She may be from the north, but even that had little effect on how she could handle a cold and bitter snowy night.

“I can go grab our jackets, Lys, I won’t let you freeze.” That stupid, knee-weakening smile returned to Aedion’s face.

“Well, then, yes.”

He winked at her, then walked towards the heap of coats. He quickly returned, helping her into her jacket before holding open the balcony doors.

The bitter air brushed over Lysandra’s flushed skin the moment she stepped outside. A crisp layer of snow coated the wooden balcony as flurries fell from the black, starless sky. The Christmas music became nothing but a low buzz, the city lights lighting up the space around them.

Either of them spoke as they walked to the edge of the balcony. Aedion placed his elbows on the ledge, leaning forward. Lysandra watched as his shoulders shifted under his shirt before shaking her head, looking away.

She shouldn’t be looking at him like that.

With a light sigh, Lysandra glanced out over the city before them. Christmas and street lights lit up the skyline. Snow had lightly coated the roads, roofs, every surface. The endless black sky above them made everything look so peaceful, so untouched.

“You look beautiful tonight, by the way.”

Lysandra’s attention snapped towards Aedion. The city lights cast half his face in shadow. His turquoise eyes sparkled as they meet hers. The smile on his face was small, tender, genuine, as his hair tossed in the wind.

Lysandra returned the smile, speaking softly. “Thank you. You look pretty dapper too.”

“Who says ‘dapper’ these days?” Aedion raised an eyebrow, his voice holding a teasing tone.

“I do,” Lysandra laughed. “I’m bringing it back.”

Aedion shook his head, smile forever on his lips as his hair flew around his face. “Sorry to tell you, but I don’t think it’ll never catch on.”

“Just you watch,” Lysandra gave him her own smirk. “I can be very persuasive.”

“I’m sure you can be.”

Lysandra held Aedion’s gaze for a moment longer, then it suddenly hit her want she was doing. What she was saying.

She looked away, back out towards the city. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. She hadn’t flirted this openly, this easily, with anyone in such a long time. It scared her.

A hushed silence fell over them for another moment. The wind and the buzz of Christmas music the only sounds to fill the space around them as snow continued to lightly fall.

“Lysandra. Can I ask you something? It’s kind of personal.”

Her head turned towards Aedion, heart jumping in her chest. She took in his serious expression. His brows were slightly pinched, smile gone. And for the life of her, Lysandra couldn’t think of what he wanted to ask her. But she was so nervous she couldn’t seem to find her voice. So she just gave a slow nod.

Aedion leaned in closer, his voice a hushed tone as he spoke. “What do you want for Christmas this year?”

Lysandra blinked. Once, then twice. It took her a moment to fully work out what he was asking her. But when she did, she couldn’t stop the laugh from flying past her lips. It was a laugh that caused her whole face to light up, a laugh that came from deep within. A laugh that she hadn’t laughed in a long time.

“That’s your idea of a personal question?”

The smile came back to Aedion’s face, his eyes never leaving hers. “What someone wants for Christmas says a lot about a person.”

Lysandra laughed once more, shaking her head as she pulled her coat closer.

“I don’t really know,” she asked honestly once the laughter had died down. “I haven’t put much thought into what I want this year.”

“Come on,” Aedion teased, taking the slightest step closer to her. “Everyone knows what they want for Christmas.”

Lysandra glanced up at him with a raised eyebrow. She tried not to think too much about how much closer he was to her. How she could feel his body heat. “And what is it that you want?”

Aedion paused. He glanced out at the city light, seemingly thinking long and hard about the question

“A bicycle,” he answered finally, turning back to Lysandra. “That’s what I want this year.”

She gave him a long look that said, It snows literally nine months out of the year here.

But, despite that, another chuckle flew past her lips. “You couldn’t honestly be asking for that for Christmas.”

“I totally am,” his eyes shined with laughter.

“Then I’ll be sure to get you a bicycle for Christmas.”

“I’m holding you to that,” he said before pausing, his eyes locking with hers. “Thought I’d love anything you got me for Christmas, Lysandra.”

She flushed, because this was flirting again. She was flirting again, and it was because she wanted to. Not because she needed to, or because it was expected of her, but because she liked someone, and because she was pretty sure they liked her back.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she glanced back out at the city, “I could get you a unicycle.”

Aedion met her eyes, and said with as much seriousness as if he were on a witness stand, “I’d ride it with pride.”

And he would. He’d make a damned fool of himself, just to see her smile, to see her laugh. Lysandra didn’t need any words to know he would. She could see it all on his face, in his eyes.

Everything between them seemed to freeze. The snow continued to fall, a cold breeze blowing past, but neither cared. Their eyes were locked, they were in their own little bubble. And Lysandra couldn’t stop her breath from hitching in her throat as Aedion gazed at her with such an open, caring and loving look.

She couldn’t remember the last time anyone looked at her like that.

“Lysandra,” Aedion’s voice was a soft whisper.

“Yeah?” she breathed. Her eyes never left his.

“Would you like to dance with me?”

There were a million reasons for her to say no. A million reasons why she should keep those walls up, stay hidden behind them. She needed to guard her heart, like she had been doing for years. But as she glanced between Aedion’s breathtaking eyes to his outstretched hand, that rush of fear wasn’t as intense as it normally was.

So despite herself, despite everything she had once told herself, she smiled. With a rush of excitement, she placed her hand in his. And the moment their fingers touched, she felt warm.

“I’d love to,” she whispered.

Giving her hand a light squeeze, Aedion smiled down at her. His eyes tender, lovingly, and never leaving hers as they walked back inside and out of the snow.

And as the Christmas music carried on, as the couples around them danced and laughed, as Aedion pulled her close, Lysandra felt safe.