#he used to sing to the halla. god. fuck. help

[vaguely-concerned]

davrin softly humming like he does to calm assan but it's post-coitally to rook who's falling asleep in his arms................

[logancreatesworlds]

When Your Bae’s a Magician - Spencer Reid x Reader (A Late Halloween Fic)

Author’s Note:  Hello all!  So I started on this little gem after Halloween, but damn if this would have been perfect for October.  Oh well.  Better late than never!  Enjoy!

“Honey, remind me again why I have to be your magical Guinea pig?”

“Because babe, I need a test subject for my next spell,” Spencer responded sifting through his spell book, “and you love me.”

You have been dating Spencer Reid for about three years now and while your anniversary was rolling up in six weeks, your boyfriend – a literal wizard, just had to try a new spell.

You were a little apprehensive, which was justifiable given that he once nearly singed the scales off of your mutual friend JJ, who was quite literally the most formidable mermaid you had ever met.

It wasn’t that Spencer was an untalented wizard, he was just extremely powerful and you as an angel felt almost obligated to help him work on his craft.

“Okay,” you said taking a deep breath, your white wings flexing, “I trust you.  Just…be careful.”

Spencer nodded and looked into his spell book.

Once he found the correct words, he began his incantation.

“Krenos Hatori Hallas…Nextrum!”

A blinding light quickly washed over the room.

Once it cleared, you opened your eyes.

Spencer was still there, but he looked much taller than he did before.

Judging from the way his eyes widened, you had shrunk exponentially.

And a lot of the colors you were used to seeing were now muted tones of grey.

“Spencer…what did you do?”

“…You may wanna go look in the mirror.”

Swiftly, you ran to go look in the full length mirror in your bedroom.

Briefly looking down, you noticed that instead of legs stood black furry legs.

No he didn’t!

Finally, you were able to view your reflection.

Oh hell no.

“SPENCER REID!” You shouted, your angry voice reverberating off the walls.

“I know babe, I’m sorry,” Spencer said with a sad look on his face, “I must have said one of the words wrong…”

“The fuck you mean you’re sorry?!  I’m a goddamn cat!”

“But you’re so cute though,” Spencer mumbled, not thinking you heard him.

Angrily, you glared at him and hissed.

“Look, the good news is that you won’t be this way forever,” Spencer said, “The spell wares off in twenty-four hours.”

“So I have to be a fucking feline for twenty-four hours?”

“Essentially,” Spencer confirmed.

Sighing, you jumped onto the bed you two shared together and curled up into a furry, black ball.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer apologized, “Maybe I am a bad wizard after all.”

You sighed, folding your paws together sensibly, “No.  You’re a great wizard.  Even the best make mistakes.  We’ll get through it.  At least the spell isn’t permanent.”

Spencer gave a soft smile and gently rubbed behind your ears, causing you to purr and his smile to widen.

Gently, you curled into his touch.

“I have a hankering for some tuna,” you hummed.  

“Lucky for you, I happen to have some tuna in a can.”

With that, you watched as your boyfriend got up and walked to the kitchen.

Weaseling your head around the room, you finally saw something interesting that would amuse you.

Getting up, you pittered and pattered to the curtain that was letting the sun’s rays in.

Curiously, you clawed at it and before you knew it, you were tussling with it like it was living thing.

Reid came back in and resisted the urge to laugh.

This will be one for the memories, he thought fondly.

“And you’re telling me that Reid fucked up the spell?” Matthew asked as JJ handed him an O Negative blood substitute.

“Yeah,” JJ replied, scratching her scales, “But he refuses to tell me what it did to her.”

“Can’t be good,” Garcia mused as her wings sparkled with magic dust, “I just hope she’s okay.”

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Tara said soothingly, her eyes glowing slightly, “Reid would have been much more worried if she was hurt.”

“Plus he’s never forgive himself,” Emily replied, her green hands clutching her coffee.”

“Hey guys,” Reid greeted, coming into the BAU, “How’s everybody doing?”

“We should be asking how (Y/N)’s doing?  How bad is it?” Rossi asked.

“Not that bad.  The spell…it just changed her for a little while.”

“In what way did it change her?” Luke asked.

“Take one good guess,” (Y/N) replied, walking in on all fours.

A quiet silence passed.

“BWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”  Matt guffawed, his fangs shaking back and forth as the vampire keeled over in laughter.

“Aw shut up Edward Cullen,” (Y/N), her whiskers moving as she spoke, “Don’t rub it in.”

“It is kinda funny,” Rossi commented as Reid picked her up.

“It is,” Garcia agreed, “You are pretty cute right now.”

“Look here Tinkerbell,” (Y/N) groused in her direction, “Don’t you start that.  I’m not cute.  I am a badass angel meant to carry out’s God’s grace on earth-oh, that is good.”

Reid smiled softly, scratching (Y/N)’s ears as she purred louder and louder.

“Yeah okay, she is cute,” Tara commented.

“You know Tara,” (Y/N) said, “I know you’re a white witch and everything but you are not making me feel better right now.”

“Ok but does this mean we can call you Puss n’ Boots now?” Luke asked, his sharp canines sticking out with a smirk.

“Screw you, Cucuy.”

“I’m guessing our new feline friend is going to be staying with Garcia for the day while we do our work?” Rossi asked.

“Yes she will,” Reid replied, handing his girlfriend-turned-cat to Penelope, “Just for today until the spell wares off.”

“Ow ow ow gentle,” (Y/N) complained as Garcia handled her, “And damn sis – your hands are freezing.  You been fuckin’ a snowman?”

“Aw shut up,” Garcia replied playfully, “You have fur anyway.”  

“Ugh,” you groaned, taking a stretch and you jumped into you and Reid’s bed, “This shit better be fixed by tomorrow babe.  Being a cat is exhausting.”

“Aw come on.  Being a kitty can’t be that bad.”

“Boy please,” you scoffed, “You do not know how many monsters and humans alike wish to pet you 24/7.”

“You make a cute cat, babe,” Reid replied, rubbing your fur, “It can’t be helped that you’re beautiful in all forms.”

“As flattering as this is, you on pussy restriction for a week as soon as I turn back.”

Reid huffed and turned the lights out as you snuggled into his arms.

As if you could resist me, the wizard thought arrogantly.

That next morning, you had turned back, but that adventure was never forgotten.

Tara had made a meme and posted it on Instagram, capturing the whole event.

The title?

“When Your Bae’s a Magician.”

Author’s Note:  Lol!  Okay, this was a fun write.  I’m still working on some requests, but I really wanted to publish this.  Hope you all enjoyed it.  Feel free to comment!

@shinyanchorface  @dontshootmespence  @princesswagger15  @tenaciousarcadeexpert  @naturally-bri  @icycoldbeanieweanies

[ahvarchive]

under the cut are examples of companion banter / dialogue with companion!ahv!!

COLE.

Cole: Blood on my hands.  It’s beautiful in the sun.  She’s beautiful in the sun.  Tuelanen, ar lath ash.  Tuelanen — Ahvir: Cole. Cole: It wasn’t your fault. Ahvir: Stop.  Please.

IF PRESENT:

Varric: Kid, let it rest. Solas: Cole, she does not wish to hear this. Sera: …Shite. Dorian: My condolences.

///

Cole: Want her to be safe.  Mythal’enaste, she’s a mage.  If they think she’s a mage they’ll — Ahvir: Cole! Cole: Smells like sunlight in her hair.  Magic?  Or her?  She looks so bright when she casts.  How could they call that evil?  Won’t let them touch her. Ahvir: Cole, STOP! Cole: She didn’t want you to hurt. Ahvir: [ quietly ] I didn’t want her to…it doesn’t matter.  Let it rest, Cole.  Please.

///

Cole: [ singing ] Iras ma ghilas, da'len, ara ma'nedan ashir? Ahvir: [ singing ] Dirthara lothlenan'as bal emma mala dir. Cole: I’m sorry.  I don’t sound like her. Ahvir: It’s a nice thought, Cole.

IF PRESENT:

Sera: Pfft.  You’ve even got the demon acting elfy. Ahvir: My mamae sang me that lullaby, Sera.  I miss her.  He was trying to help. Sera: — Oh.

///

Ahvir: Cole, was that…were you the one who fixed my bracelet? Cole: You thought it was like losing her.  It didn’t mean you loved her any less. Ahvir: — Ma serannas.

///

Cole: You don’t have to put yourself between me and them. Ahvir: I know. Cole: You do it, anyway. Ahvir: I know. Cole: She wouldn’t want you to want that. Ahvir: — I know.

///

( if the clan was lost ) Cole: There are so many of them.  I’m so glad she isn’t here.  Tuelenan, keep her safe.  One lives. Ahvir: What? Cole: Keeper Deshanna. Ahvir: — Ah. Cole: She was glad you weren’t there when the humans came. Ahvir: I could have done something.  I could have protected them. Cole: Breathing, stabbing, blood in throat.  I’m so sorry, da’len.  So sorry. Cole: She wanted you to live.  She was sorry that she made you hurt.

///

Ahvir: Are you alright, Cole?  You took a pretty bad hit that last fight. Cole: [ surprised ] It doesn’t hurt. Ahvir: [ laughing ] That doesn’t mean you’re not injured Cole: He sounds like her.  I sound like her?  I’m sorry. Ahvir: No, it’s — don’t be sorry.  I’m glad. Ahvir: I’m glad you’re so good.  She was good, too.

VARRIC.

Ahvir: So, Varric… Varric: Uh oh. Ahvir: I haven’t even said anything yet! Varric: If you’re asking for spoilers to books, I’m not giving any.  Not even to you, Dawn. Ahvir: Fenedhis!

///

Varric: Tuelenan.  What does that mean, Dawn? Ahvir: It means CREATORS.  The gods. Varric: Ah.  Speaking of, do you Dalish have any weird curses for them? Ahvir: Like your “Maker’s bursting blackheads!” and such? Varric: Yeah, exactly!  I’ve got a new character in my book, real irreverent elf type.  Wanna know how I can have him curse. Ahvir: Hmm…the closest I can think of is Tuelenan, ha'lam'shir em'an. Ahvir: Literally it means Creators, end us, but in context it’s more like — Ahvir: Creators, just fucking kill me because you’ve fucked me over so much already that you might as well just finish the job. Varric: Andraste’s flaming ass! Ahvir: Mhmm.

///

Varric: So your clans don’t cross each other very often, do they? Ahvir: It isn’t rare, but it doesn’t happen often.  Why? Varric: Just wondering if you might have met another Dalish friend of mine.  She was a first, too.  She reminds me of you. Ahvir: What was her name? Varric: Merrill.   Ahvir: Oh, no.  The one from your book?  I’ve never met her, ir abelas. Varric: Ah, well.

///

Varric: So, Dawn.  You read my books. Ahvir: I do. Varric: Good to know I’ve got a Dalish audience. Ahvir: I would buy the books when we traded with humans.  I liked to read the stories to the children.  Though I…usually changed the character names so they could be Elven. Ahvir: Not that there’s anything wrong with your stories!  There just aren’t many elf heroes that aren’t from centuries ago.  I don’t want the children to think… Varric: It’s fine, Ahv.  

///

Varric: So…did the kids like my books? Ahvir: Yes, though they wondered why the bad guys just kept dropping out from nowhere. Varric: Everyone’s a critic.

IF PRESENT:

Iron Bull: I knew it wasn’t just me!

CASSANDRA.

Ahvir: So you’re basically a Templar, right? Cassandra: [ sighs ] No.  Our abilities are similar, but not the same. Ahvir: I’m more talking about general disposition. Ahvir: You don’t trust mages, do you? Cassandra: I… Ahvir: That’s what I thought.

///

Cassandra: Ahvir? Ahvir: Hm? Cassandra: I could not give you a proper answer before.  I don’t distrust mages. Ahvir: Truly? Cassandra: Distrust comes from fear.  I am not afraid. Ahvir: Are you unafraid because you know we’re not all evil power - hungry maleficar - in - the - making, or because you’ve killed enough of us to know you can do it again? Cassandra: I —…

IF PRESENT:

Varric: Just keep sticking your foot in your mouth, Seeker. Cole: Both?

///

Cassandra: Ahvir, do you truly believe I’d kill you? Ahvir: — No. Ahvir: Because you know me, now.  But I believe you’d be quicker to kill a stranger if you knew they were a mage than you’d be to kill a stranger that you knew to be a warrior. Ahvir: You still think of us as being monsters, somewhere.  We need to earn our way into your good graces.  We need to earn it for you to look at us as people. Ahvir: That isn’t right. Cassandra: …You’re right.  It isn’t.

///

Ahvir: Agh, fenedhis. Cassandra: Ahvir? Ahvir: I’m fine.  I healed this wound in a hurry and it just reopened.   Cassandra: Should we stop? Ahvir: No, I can get it while we walk.  I’m fine. Cassandra: Self - destruction doesn’t suit you. Ahvir: Worrying over nothing doesn’t suit you, either. Ahvir: — Ma serannas.

///

Ahvir: Cass, that was the most badass thing I’ve ever seen! Cassandra: What? Ahvir: You, covered in blood, hacking that monster to bits! Ahvir: I almost swooned. Cassandra: I — do not know what to say to that.

IF PRESENT:

Sera: Can’t believe me and Elfy have something in common. Ahvir: Pfft! Cassandra: Maker help me.

SERA.

( immediately after a battle. ) Ahvir: Fen’harel ma ghilana. Sera: [ mockingly ] Fenny ma gill halla. Ahvir: — What? Sera: It all sounds like gibberish to me, anyway. Ahvir: Weird.  ‘Cause that’s what I hear when you open your mouth, too.

IF PRESENT:

Solas: The Dread Wolf guides BOTH of you.

///

Ahvir: You’re not interested in our history?  Not at all?  Even the little bits? Sera: Nope. Ahvir: Why not? Sera: Why are you? Ahvir: Because it’s who we are!  Who we were!  And it’s all gone — out culture, our homes, our language. Sera: Yeah, exactly.  It’s all gone.  Why hang onto it when we could be movin’ forward, right?  What’s gone doesn’t matter.  What matters is what’s COMING.

///

Ahvir: Sera, you should grow your hair out. Sera: [ suspicious ] Why?  Is this some weird elfy thing where everyone has to have long hair? Ahvir: [ laughing ] No, Sera.  Your hair just looks nice.  I’d like to braid it. Sera: Oh.  I — nobody’s ever done anything with my hair before. Ahvir: …I think I could do little braids even now, or some other design.  Could be fun. Sera: I’ll…think about it.

///

Ahvir: Okay, top this one.  Once, I scared all of the clan’s hunters half to death with a bear imitation.  They all ran crying back to the aravels. Sera: Get out! Ahvir: No, swear.   Sera: Do the bear imitation now! Ahvir: It’s been a couple years… Sera: Just try it! Ahvir: [ clears her throat ] Ahvir: [ ROAR! ] Sera: Shite!

IF PRESENT:

Iron Bull: We could weaponize that. Varric: Just point Dawn at the bears and we’ll never have to fight another one.

DORIAN.

Ahvir: Dorian, you owned slaves, didn’t you? Doran: [ sighs ] Not me, personally.  But yes, my family owned them.  We treated them well. Ahvir: Treated them WELL?  There’s no way to treat someone well while denying them their personhood! Ahvir: Oh, well, how wonderful that you didn’t rape and beat your objects!  You were still making people into THINGS. Dorian: We are not all evil mustache - twirling villains, I promise you.  That’s just me.

///

Ahvir: Don’t brush me aside when I’m trying to talk about things that matter. Dorian: Brush you aside?  Perish the thought. Ahvir: I suppose you probably just aren’t used to having to respect the speech of elves. Dorian: That isn’t — !! Ahvir: Brush you aside?  Perish the thought.

///

Dorian: You were right to be frustrated with me. Ahvir: What?   Dorian: I was being — I was unworthy.  I shouldn’t have just brushed aside your words as though they didn’t matter.  You have my apologies. Ahvir: …Huh.  Wow. Dorian: Is something the matter? Ahvir: I don’t think a shem has ever apologized to me before.

///

Dorian: The — vallaslin.  Am I saying that right? Ahvir: Close enough. Dorian: They represent your gods, correct? Ahvir: Yes.  Each of us takes on the vallaslin of the god we favor, or the one we feel favors us. Ahvir: …Though the process is painful, so some just get very complicated vallaslin to appear tougher to the rest of the clan. Dorian: [ laughing ] Good to know some things are the same across cultures.

///

Ahvir: Dorian!  Your kohl!  It’s smudged. Dorian: Oh, no.   Ahvir: Don’t worry, I can fix it when we get to camp. Dorian: And I have to spend the entire trek there looking like a hopeless wreck!  Perish the thought! Ahvir: [ laughing ] You still look fine, I promise. Dorian: But my eyes aren’t being properly emphasized!

THE IRON BULL.

Ahvir: Bull, do you mind if I ask you something? Iron Bull: What’s up? Ahvir: My Keeper once told me that the Qunari chain their mages and bind them.  But you don’t seem afraid of me at all.  Why is that? Iron Bull: Magic is a lot scarier coming out of somebody seven feet tall with horns, Ahv. Ahvir: But the magic we do is the same.  I could learn to do Qunari magic as easily as Dalish magic, or Circle magic.   Iron Bull: Are you TRYING to make me scared of you?

///

Ahvir: You never told me why you’re not afraid of me. Iron Bull: I did.  It’s because you’re damn short. Ahvir: You don’t expect me to believe that. Iron Bull: [ sighs ] Honestly?  I’ve met a lot more shitty warriors in my life than I’ve met shitty mages.  Spending so long away from the Qun, surrounded by pretty decent mages, you sorta forget they’re all potential monsters. Ahvir: …I think you just insulted me.

IF PRESENT:

Dorian: I’m SURE he just insulted me.

///

Iron Bull: Have you ever burned your eyebrows off doing magic or something? Ahvir: Absolutely.  When I was learning I was always singing hair and eyebrows and such.   Iron Bull: Glad you’re good enough not to light ME on fire. Ahvir: Whoops, my staff is slipping — ! Iron Bull: Ahv! Ahvir: [ laughs ]

IF PRESENT:

Cole: The Iron Bull, a slipping staff wouldn’t cast fire on its own… Iron Bull: I know, kid.  It’s part of the joke. Cole: Oh.

///

Iron Bull: Ahvir, did you leave the flower crown on my bed? Ahvir: What!  So you did get it!  I thought when I didn’t see you wearing it someone must have taken it or something! Iron Bull: I still have it, but I’m not sure it’d look it’d inspire fear in my enemies enough to wear out and about. Ahvir: Krem said that if I made him one, he’d wear it.

VIVIENNE.

Ahvir: So, Viv — Vivienne: Vivienne. Ahvir: Don’t care. Vivienne: Then I don’t care to hear what you have to say.

///

Ahvir: So, Vivienne — Vivienne: Much better Ahvir: If you’re so sure mages need to be locked up, what do you think of we Dalish?  We’re not overrun with blood mages and abominations.  Are we merely flukes? Vivienne: Please, dear, don’t pretend your people don’t fear mages same as anyone.  You force excess mages from your ranks rather than house them. Ahvir: You think we do that because we FEAR MAGIC?  You don’t know anything, you damn SHEM — agh.  If I talk about this I’m going to light you on fire.   Vivienne: You’re welcome to try. Ahvir: AGH!

///

Ahvir: It isn’t because we fear magic. Vivienne: — Then what else is it, dear? Ahvir: Clans get decimated all the time.  Entire clans, murdered.  The shems don’t even need a justification. Ahvir: Rabbit hunting.  It’s easy.  No one bats an eye. Ahvir: You really think we wouldn’t have even more knights eager to kill us if half of the clan was made up of fucking apostates? Ahvir: If we didn’t keep the mages numbers down, we would be opening ourselves up to more violence, and if we want to survive we can’t do that.  We don’t fear magic.   Ahvir: We fear humans. Vivienne: — I had no idea. Ahvir: No.  You didn’t.  So keep your mouth shut about things you know nothing about.

SOLAS.

Solas: Mah’vir. Ahvir: [ laughing ] Solas: Odd that your parents would name you for the future when your people seek to regain what is lost to the past. Ahvir: I came late.  The Keeper and the healers kept telling my mother I’d be born tomorrow, tomorrow.  Mahvir, mahvir. Ahvir: When I was finally born, all she could think was that mahvir had finally come.  “Ma Ahvir has finally come.” Solas: Ah.  It’s a beautiful story. Ahvir: …I miss her.

///

Ahvir: Solas, do you shave your head, or are you naturally bald? Solas: Does it matter? Ahvir: I’m mostly wondering; if you shave your head, does that mean you shave everywhere else?  [ flirtatious ] Everywhere? Solas: Are you twelve? Ahvir: [ laughing ]

///

Ahvir: Such a shame these ruins have fallen apart.  I wonder what this place once was. Solas: Some things are best left to the past. Ahvir: I don’t believe that. Solas: You are still young.

///

Ahvir: Why do you hate my People so much, Solas? Solas: Who said I hated them? Ahvir: You look at them the way my Keeper looked at the human children who called her rabbit.  Angry and disappointed and disgusted, but supposing them too ignorant to be blamed. Solas: …Ah.   Ahvir: If my People have ever called you flat - ear or the like, ir abelas.  But — Solas: It is not that.

BLACKWALL.

Ahvir: Are you hurt, Blackwall? Blackwall: I’m fine, Ahvir, don’t you worry. Ahvir: It must be punishing, drawing all the attention on the battlefield. Blackwall: It’s easy to do with a sword this big. Ahvir: [ snickering ]

IF PRESENT:

Solas: Honestly? Sera: PFFT!! Cole: It is a big sword.

///

Ahvir: So.  Thom Rainier. Blackwall: Yes. Ahvir: You’re a liar and a murderer.  Are you really trying to make amends, or just trying to keep out of trouble? Blackwall: …A little of both, probably.  Much as I’d like to believe myself noble. Ahvir: At least you admit it.  More than most humans.

///

Blackwall: I feel you glaring at me. Ahvir: I can’t stop thinking about you murdering a bunch of children for coin.  About you letting your men suffer for you. Ahvir: You were supposed to lead them and you left them for dead. Ahvir: You’re pathetic. Blackwall: [ snapping ] I know all of this, Ahvir, I don’t need the reminder.  I’m sure you’ve sinned before.  At least I am trying to make amends.

///

Ahvir: …Ir abelas. Blackwall: Pardon? Ahvir: I’m sorry.  For being cruel.  You’ve made mistakes and you’re trying to fix it, and I shouldn’t have…I’m sorry. Blackwall: Not as though I didn’t deserve it. Ahvir: I wonder if we’re more alike than either of us know.

///

( if a battle has just finished and ahvir is at very low health ) Ahvir: Fe — Fenedhis. Blackwall: Are you alright? Ahvir: I’m fine.  Just hurts like a bitch. Blackwall: Should we rest? Ahvir: If you want to carry me in your arms, you’re welcome to.  Then I can get a really good look at your beautiful eyes and plush lips. Blackwall: — You must be injured. Ahvir: I’ll have you know I’m an obnoxious flirt whether I’m close to death or not.

MISC.

( if the inquisitor goes down ) Ahvir: No!  I won’t let anyone else die! Ahvir: Fenedhis!  He/She’s down! Ahvir: Inquisitor! Ahvir: Someone help the Inquisitor! Ahvir: Shit, my barrier failed!

( if ahvir is very low health ) Ahvir: Shit… Ahvir: That’s a lot of blood… Ahvir: I can’t go on like this. Ahvir: Rem…? Ahvir: Tuelenan, ver em!

( upon being revived ) Ahvir: Huh?  I thought I was back with… Ahvir: Thanks. Ahvir: Ma serrannas. Ahvir: Fenedhis, that hurts.

( entering redcliffe the first time ) Ahvir: This is where the mages came?  I’ve read the stories…was this really the best place for a bunch of mages?

( if the inquisitor goes to recruit the templars after speaking to dorian ) Ahvir: You’re just leaving the mages to fall to Tevinter?

( if the inquisitor conscripted the mages ) Ahvir: They’re prisoners again, just like they were in their towers.  I hope you’re happy.

( if the inquisitor allied with the templars / did not disband them ) Ahvir: Good to know you’d throw your weight behind the group literally built to see people like me culled.

( if something is in the area ) Ahvir: Elf…senses…tingling… Ahvir: I thought I saw something over there. Ahvir: Hm.

( destroying red lyrium ) Ahvir: That’s for my clan. Ahvir: That’s for Isenni. Ahvir: Ir abelas, Lehel. Ahvir: Mamae, Bae.…

( killing red templars ) Ahvir: That’s for my family, you bastard. Ahvir: You killed them!

( killing templars ) Ahvir: That’s for her. Ahvir: FUCKING DIE!

( hostile greeting ) Ahvir: Make it quick. Ahvir: What? Ahvir: Do you need my help again? ( if the inquisitor is human ) Ahvir: Did you need something, shem?

( cold / neutral greeting ) Ahvir: What can I do for you? Ahvir: You need something? Ahvir: What’s going on?

( warm greeting ) Ahvir: You’re back! Ahvir: I’m glad to see you again. Ahvir: Aneth ara.

( friendly greeting ) Ahvir: Lethalan / lethalin! Ahvir: I missed you! Ahvir: I’m glad you’ve come to see me. Ahvir: You’re looking wonderful, as always.

( romanced greeting ) Ahvir: Vhenan! Ahvir: I’m so glad you’re here, ara’lin. Ahvir: My heart jumps into my throat whenever I see you.  Isn’t that funny? Ahvir: I adore you.

[littlespoonevan]

I know you asked not to send you any prompts for the time being, but I saw this stardefiant(.)tumblr(.)com/post/157460338749/one-of-the-talented-writers-in-this-fandom-the and it made me think of you, because I love everything you write :) I just wanted you to see it, if you haven't already, in case it's something you'd be interested in!

aksjdfhjdksh oh god i couldn’t resist this one. i messed with canon a lil so even and sonja aren’t together and there’s a few references to other scenes but here you go!!! i hope u like it!!!

**edit: i forgot to mention the most important part, which is that isak is already out in this fic whoops lmao. 

prompt:the first scene of season three, but with even coming into the bathroom instead of emma……all i’m sayin’……….. (original post here courtesy of the lovely @stardefiant)

*

Isak lets his shoulders drop as he lazily exhales thesmoke from his mouth. He relaxes back against the tiled wall behind him andpasses their makeshift bong over to Mahdi, letting the boys’ conversation driftover his head. They’re talking about which first year girls they think are hotand Isak honestly couldn’t give a fuck.

One of the pros of finally coming out: he doesn’thave to involve himself in these kinds of conversations anymore.

“What about you, Isak?” Magnus asks abruptly, wagglinghis eyebrows when Isak looks over at him. “Any of those first year boys catchyour eye?”

One of the cons of finally coming out: Magnus triesto talk to him about boys.

He scoffs, shaking his head. “Fuck off, Mags.”

“There was that guy whose locker is by yours!” Magnuscontinues, unfazed. “With the black hair? He was totally checking out your asson Friday.”

Isak pulls a face – he’d rather not have Magnus talkingabout his ass, no matter the context.

“Nei,” Mahdi disagrees. “Isak is way out of that guy’sleague. Who’s the guy we were talking to the other day, Jonas?”

“The one who couldn’t find his chemistry class?”Jonas snorts. “Forget it.”

That starts all three of them on a debate about whichpotential first year boys are up to Isak’s non-existent standards. Like before,Isak tunes out, only vaguely listening to the hum of their voices while hesnatches the bottle back off Jonas.

“Nei, nei!” Jonas says suddenly, cutting through thefaint buzzing sound of their conversation and effectively catching Isak’sattention. “I know who Isak could like.”

The gleaming smile is somewhat disconcerting and Isakfinds himself shrinking away from him and into Mahdi’s side. Jonas knows Isak’stastes too well, where is this going, oh fuck-

“Even,” Jonas announces proudly. “In 3STB.”

Magnus screws his face up in confusion. “Since whenis there an Even in 3STB?”

“He just transferred,” Jonas explains. “I met him theother day; apparently we have the same dealer. But he’s definitely your type,Issy.”

“Is that so?” Isak asks, arching an eyebrow.

“Yep!” Jonas insists, undeterred by his sceptical reaction. “He’s tall, blond-“

“You’re literally just describing me,” Isak snortsand Jonas smacks his shoulder.

“Taller than you,”Jonas says pointedly. “He’s got this whole James Dean vibe going for him. He seemedcool. Definitely the kind to make your jaw drop if you saw him.”

Isak doesn’t answer right away. The worst part is he thinkshe might know who Jonas is talking about. He’d seen him the other day when theywere in the cafeteria and accidentally made eye contact when the guy – Even,apparently – had caught him staring.

And yeah, Jonas hadn’t been exaggerating with the wholeJames Dean thing…

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he says haughtilybecause he realises he’s paused for too long and he has to say something.

And then, because the universe fucking hates him, thebathroom door opens.

And who walks in?

Oh just 194cm of long limbs and blond hair twisted upin that fucking James Dean cinnamon swirl, with a denim jacket draped over atight white t-shirt that leaves nothing to the imagination.

Isak hates his life.

Scratch that, Isak hates his friends.

Jonas starts nudging him, looking meaningfully atEven, who doesn’t seem to have realised they’re even in there as he closes thedoor behind himself and goes to the mirror – to inspect his hair, presumably.

He has a joint behind his ear and he lookseffortlessly cool and Isak hates him a little bit, suddenly self-conscious inhis Jesus t-shirt and snapback.

Jonas somehow manages to convey to Mahdi and Magnusthat this is in fact the Even he was talking about with just the use of hiseyebrows. Which would be fine except Magnus screams, “Oh fuck! That’s Even?”

If Isak was closer he’d punch him.

Even startles, spinning on his heel and mouthdropping open in a tiny “o” when his eyes land on each of them. (Isak thinkshis gaze lingers on him a little longer than the others but he can’t be sure.)

“Halla?” he says confusedly, a tiny wrinkle formingbetween his eyebrows and god, he’sgorgeous. Jonas wasn’t wrong.

“Hey man!” Jonas greets enthusiastically, taking offhis sunglasses and gesturing to his own face. “I’m Jonas, we met the other day?”

Even’s face lights up in recognition and he smiles. “Ofcourse! Hey.”

There’s a beat of awkward silence where Even rocks onhis heels, looking between each of them where they’re all clumsily shoved intothe bathtub. “So what are you guys up to?”

“Smoking,” Mahdi replies with a contented sigh. “Wanna join?”

Even grins and Isak wants to die. “Tempting. But I should probably get back out there.”

“Your girlfriend waiting for you?” Magnus askscasually except it’s Magnus. So it’s not casual at all. Made even more obviousby the fact he winks at Isak.

Judging by the look on Even’s face, he definitelysaw. Fuck.

“No. No girlfriend,” he replies amusedly.

“Boyfriend then?” Mahdi asks with just as muchunsubtlety as the blond dumbass sitting on Jonas’ left that Isak officiallydisowned about thirty seconds ago.

“No boyfriend either,” Even laughs. “Unfortunately.”

Magnus reaches behind Jonas to start shoving at Isak’sshoulder and Isak would very much like the ground to swallow him up now. Heknows what they’re all waiting for him to do. They’re waiting for him to turnon the charm and wrap Even around his little finger like he used to do withgirls. But the only reason Isak could dothat with girls is because he didn’t care. He wasn’t interested, it didn’tmatter.

But Even…oh man, he’s interested.

“Even, have you met my buddy Isak?” Jonas pipes upsuddenly and Isak is going to drownhis friends in this fucking bathtub.

Even’s gaze finally settles on him and Isak can feelthe heat rising in his cheeks.

“No, I don’t think I have,” he replies smoothly, eyesbriefly dragging down what he can see of Isak’s body before he smiles at himagain. Shit.

“You mind keeping him company while we uh- while we-“

“While we go see a man about a hoodie,” Mahdi cuts inwith the weirdest fucking excuse of all time.

What the fuck.

“Sure,” Even answers, raising his eyebrows as theother three immediately start to clamber out of the bathtub, leaving Isak defencelessand alone with a really hot olderboy. He can’t decide if he loves them or hates them.

“Ring me when you wanna leave, Isak!” Jonas callsover his shoulder, shoving Mahdi and Magnus out in front of him.

That doesn’t stop Isak from hearing Magnus sing, “You’ve got that James Dean, daydream, lookin your eyeeeeees…” as he trails out the door.

Jesus christ.

And suddenly they’re alone and the bathroom feels alot quieter than before.

Isak should probably get out of the tub.

Before he can, however, Even’s sauntering forward andplopping down beside him, long legs hanging over the ledge. “So, uh, Isak, wasit?�� he asks nonchalantly, plucking the joint from behind his ear and pattingdown his pockets for a lighter.

“Mhm,” Isak hums vaguely, mind stuck on the way theirbodies are pressed together shoulder to hip.

“I’m Even. But it sounds like you already knew that.”His grin is teasing but Isak still feels mortified. It helps a little when Evengets the joint lit and immediately offers it to him.

Isak takes a hit, grateful to focus on something elsefor a second, before he passes it back to Even and feels his nerve-endingstingle as their fingers brush.

“So was I completely misreading the signals or wereyour friends trying to hook us up?”

Isak freezes, snapping his head to the side to seeEven’s head tilted back against the wall as he glances at him, amusementdancing behind his eyes.

“You didn’t misread it,” Isak says after a beat,mouth dry. He thinks those might be the first words he’s actually said to Evensince he showed up.

“Oh thank god,” Even huffs out a laugh. “I’ve beenlooking for an excuse to talk to you for weeks. That would’ve been embarrassing.”

Isak chokes on his inhale, coughing and splutteringas he stares at Even in disbelief. “What?”

“Couldn’t you tell?” Even asks, furrowing his brow. “Ithought you caught me staring the other day?”

“You werestaring?” Isak asks, bewildered. That’s absolutely not how he remembers it.

“Yeah. In the cafeteria,” Even replies unashamedly,picking the joint out from between Isak’s slack fingers. “You definitely lookedat me.”

“I know,” Isak answers quietly, swallowing hard. Even had been looking at him, Even had noticed him.

Even grins then, seeming to catch the implicationbehind Isak’s words.

“Well Isak,” Even says, handing the joint off to himwhile he digs in his pocket for something. He produces his phone a second laterand offers it to him. “I don’t really like the idea of this being a randomparty hookup so how about you give me your number now so I don’t forget to askyou later when you pull a Cinderella on me?”

There’s too many things in that sentence for Isak tofocus on – namely, I’m not gonna pull aCinderella? – but what ends up coming out of his mouth is. “But we haven’thooked up?”

He claps his mouth shut as soon as he says it but thedamage is done.

Except Even smiles at him then, different frombefore. It’s soft around the edges and he’s looking at Isak with something likeendearment before he’s leaning in and gently stealing a kiss.

It’s incredibly soft and in complete juxtaposition toeverything that’s happened so far tonight but Isak melts with it, body going pliantas he leans his shoulder more heavily against Even’s.

He doesn’t even consciously realise he’s leaning backin again until their noses are brushing and Even’s now lopsided quiff brusheshis forehead but Even stops him at the last minute with a hand on his shoulder.

“Phone number first. Kiss later.”

Isak bites his lip to hide his grin and plucks thephone out of Even’s hand, handing him the joint to dispose of. He types in his number,deliberating for a second before he puts the bathtub emoji after his name. Hedrops the phone in Even’s lap, looking at him expectantly and tilting his chin –a little in defiance, a lot in asilent request to be kissed.

Even beams like he can see right through him andducks back in to slot their lips together.

(The boys might find them still in the bathtub,heavily making out, a few hours later when it’s actually time to go home.)

(At 2am Isak gets a text from an unknown number thatsimply says, “Goodnight, Cinderella.”)

(He saves it as the bathtub emoji.)

*

[daigina-3]

Juliet and His Romeo

His only break of the day and Isak couldn’t believe he was stuck here. If it weren’t for fucking Sana holding Madhi’s weed over his head, or his stupid ass, shoving it down the first candy jar he spotted in Eva’s house- or even fucking Vilde for thinking it would be a good idea to start a revue group, Isak could be chillin’ in the cafeteria or the courtyard with his bros.

But instead he was here, in Nissen’s theater. Adjusting fake, plastic leaves that made up fake, plastic vines wrapping around the base of a fake tower made of plaster and wood.  

No wonder Sana had to blackmail people to join. Vilde was a nightmare as a director.

They met weeks before the other performances were even decided. As soon as Isak had shown up to the first revue meeting three weeks ago, Vilde had handed him a script and explained that they were doing Romeo and Juliet. She said they were doing it because it was a classic love story. Isak thinks it’s because they already had the balcony and costumes in the props room. But whatever.

The first week was auditions and stage hand sign ups. Vilde had almost bullied him into being Mercutio, because “you’d be perfect for it Isak,” but thank God he had wriggled his way out of that one and took a spot on the stage crew at the last second, meaning he didn’t have to attend the following two weeks of torture- stage hands weren’t needed for read-throughs.

That also meant that Sana withheld the weed from him even longer, claiming that he wouldn’t get it back until she knew he would take his job seriously.

The things he did for his friends.

So it was week three and Vilde wanted the tower decorated already, and Sana decided taking his job seriously meant forfeiting his social life to get it done before the next rehearsal.

Isak sighed, looking at the rough sketch Sana gave him, realizing he’d have to climb up the back of the tower and stand on the balcony to actually place the vines and flowers up there. So, he gathered the power stapler, the rest of the foliage, and the picture and headed up the questionably constructed wooden steps from behind the tower.

He got to it, placing and adjusting and stapling the vines and flowers just like the picture. Part of the way through, just when Isak thought he might jump off in boredom, he popped one earbud in and turned on his favorite playlist.

He was halfway through his favorite N.W.A song, rapping along, moving a bit more freely the more he got into it. He picked up a stray hydrangea and used it as a faux mic, bobbing his head and rapping,

“I’m in control of your mind and soul Don’t be afraid, just bust the moves,”

He stapled the hydrangea in place and a few strings of vines, draping them just so, even daring to move his feet and hips to the beat as he worked.

“So out your home, you’re on your own in the land of the unknown”

He was full-on bobbing at this point, his shoulders and his whole body moving in time as he laid down the rhymes along with the vines.

“It’s the dark side, the dirty-side It’s called-”

“Halla?” A voice rang out from below him and Isak jumped, dropping the flower in his hand, ripping the earbud out in the process.

“Shit,” he swore. That fucking hurt. He looked down to see who had caught him and how much he’d have to pay for their silence and- oh. Oh no.

It’s called the Panic Zone.

And shit, was Isak panicking- because bellow him stood Even, who picked up the flower Isak dropped, who was the lead in Vilde’s stupid play, who had just caught him rapping and dancing and maybe even singing into that flower… God, how long had he been there? Isak felt his stomach go tight in embarrassment and his face heat up.

“Halla,” Even said again, smiling from the base of the balcony, where he stood.

“Uh, hey,” Isak answered, not really sure what to do. “Just, um, setting up stuff.” He picked up another vine and placed it down, very much not looking in Even’s direction, trying to look unaffected.

“I can see that,” and Isak could hear the smile in his voice. Fuck, the last thing he needed was for Even, the cool, hot guy who was the leading man for fucks sake to be making fun of him right now. Or tell anyone what he saw later. Isak was really re-thinking that whole jumping off the tower thing right now. Maybe Sana would pity him and just give the weed back if he broke his limbs helping Vilde out, who knew?

“Do you mind if I practice in here? I came to run lines for tonight’s practice,” Even called up. Isak snuck a glance at him, only to find Even staring intensely, too intensely, his hands tucked in his back pockets and his blue eyes all but drilling into Isak.

Or maybe that was his imagination.

When Isak met his gaze, he raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“Uh, yeah, whatever, dude. That’s cool.”

“Cool.” Even shrugged off his backpack and dug around for a bit, produced his script, then began pacing.

Isak went back to work as Even’s deep voice rang through the theater.

“But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east and Juliet is the sun!”

And oh, he was rehearsing those lines. And Isak wouldn’t care normally, but as Even continued Isak couldn’t help but think back to the first day of rehearsal, the auditions where he had first seen Even up close, had watched Even run this exact monologue. He had been so moved by Even’s quiet passion, apparent even through the archaic language, that he hadn’t taken his eyes off him the rest of practice.

And when he overheard Even mentioning to Eva that Baz Lurhmann’s Romeo + Juliet was his favorite adaption of the tragic love story, he may or may not have immediately downloaded it when he got home.

(and he may or may not have definitely cried a little.)

“Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with grief,

That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she.”

Isak was only keeping up an appearance of working at this point, stapler and vines in hand, but he was pretty sure he had stapled the same place four times so far. He just had such a good vantage point- he had never seen Even so up close before, only daring to sneak glances from across the room, looking away every time he got caught staring. And he must have had really shit timing because Even seemed to always catch him staring. Now he had a front row seat.

And Even was so expressive- his whole face was thrown into the performance, his eyebrows drawn in and a small smile on his face. And usually Isak thought this whole poetry and verse stuff sounded so fake and corny but Even’s words sounded so sincere- low and passionate, adoring and a little playful- like Juliet was really there, like Even was really trying too woo this girl.

“Be not her maid since she is envious.                                                           

Her vestal livery is but sick and green,                                                          

And none but fools do wear it.”

Even looked up and met Isak’s eyes. Every other time Isak had been caught staring he’d looked away, foudn any excuse to leave or try and pretend nothing had happened. But this time he held his gaze, looking down at Even.

Even was still rehearsing, as in it as ever, but something was a little different about his face, his demeanor as he looked up at Isak now. Something changed- a mischevious look, maybe, as he raised his eyebrows and quirked his lips, almost deviously.  

“Cast it off!”

And then Even was moving, he was propelling himself forward and before Isak could really register it- Even was finding footholds in the plaster bricks, sticking out from the tower and was he trying to climb up here?

“It is my lady, it is my love!”                                                                                  

He looked at Isak, who was speechless as he watched Even go, grasping at the flimsy plaster bricks that were jutting out from the tower and heave himself up. Isak told himself he was imagining the look on his face, the adoration, determination, the glee- but the hopefull little voice in the back of his head said this is for you. But that would be ridiculous- wouldn’t it?

”Oh, that she knew she were.”

Even broke eye contact only to search for more purchase on the tower.

Isak didn’t know what to do- what the fuck was happening?

“E-Even, what the hell?” He dropped the stapler and vines he had been holding and they fell at his feet with a thud. “Dude, you’re- you’re going to hurt yourself.”

Even only smiled more in answer, fond and warm, like he was in on a joke Isak just didn’t get. He went on, his voice straining with the effort of lifting his own weight as he spoke.

“She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that?                                        

Her eye discourses. I will answer it.—”

Isak moved back as Even’s hand reached for the edge of the balcony, and he hoisted himself up so he was supported by his arms, the tips of his toes pressed into the tower to provide stability. He was only slightly out of breath as he said,

“I am too bold.”

And man, was he close. Isak had backed up, but now they were only a foot or two apart, and Even was still looking at him like that, unwavering in his… Whatever it was. Isak could feel the heat in his cheeks, probably bright pink by this point.

“’Tis not to me she speaks                                                                                   

Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,                                                 

 Having some business, do entreat her eyes                                                   

To twinkle in their spheres till they return.”

Maybe Even was making fun of him? Maybe he had been caught staring one too many times or maybe Even just took a sick kind of pleasure in fucking with Isak, seeing him flustered.

And man was it working. Isak’s heart was hammering in his chest. He thought he might stop breathing right then and there as Even pulled his whole body up, clambering over the railing and onto the small balcony floor, even closer to Isak now and inching even more so.

“What if her eyes were there, they in her head?                                            

The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars “

His voice was soft and impossibly intimate.

Isak was frozen this whole time, he couldn’t believe this was happening, was waiting to wake up or for Even to start laughing, to say oh, man, you should have seen your face! Waiting for some sign that this was a joke or a dream because there was no way Even was standing a breath away from him, looking into his eyes like a man possessed and reciting Shakespear to him.

Even raised his hand, slow and deliberate, maybe in case Isak would stop him- as if.

Even’s fingers brushed Isak’s cheek, so lightly, and Even was whispering now, low and breathy, his eyes still glued to Isak’s, searching, searching for something.

“Oh, that I might touch that cheek.”

And Isak almost didn’t feel real as he said, “I…uh,” he swallowed, licked his lips, and Even raised his eyebrows, looking so beautiful- God, and still so close…

“I think you skipped some lines,” Isak whispered- anything louder would break this moment, this magic in the atmosphere, and the last thing Isak wanted was for the warmth of Even’s hand, cupping Isak’s cheek, his thumb softly stroking the edge of his jaw, to disappear. Isak licked his lips again and he definitely didn’t miss Even’s eyes move down for a long second, following the movement before meeting Isak’s own again.

“I think,” he answered, still incredibly breathy and low and God so close, “You’re right. Maybe, uhm, you could help me practice?”

Isak didn’t answer him. “You could have hurt yourself. This thing is old, and not sturdy at all.” He tried to put some playful admonishment in the words, but it came out as more of a stunned whisper. Which was probably what Isak was right now, stunned.

Even smiled and Isak felt the air from his soft, breathy laughter his face. Even almost had him backed up against the frame of the balcony arch, and Isak felt the strange urge to put his hands on Even’s waist.

“Alack, there lies more peril in thine eyes,” Even breathed, “Isak…” he drew his name out like he loved saying, and, fuck, fuck, Isak loved hearing him say it.

“Even,” Isak returned when Even didn’t continue. He knew he was staring at his lips, try as he might to keep his eyes on Even’s.

“Could you help me with this one line- I can never remember how it goes,” He was still moving his thumb along Isak’s jaw.

What?

“Uh,” Isak swallowed, and he’s so close to Even, he doesn’t want to play this game anymore he just wants to kiss him, feel their lips meet like he’s thought about, dreamed about, so many times. But he just can’t risk ruining this, being lost in Even’s eyes, the warmth of his hand on his cheek

“Su- sure, yeah. What is it?”

“Act one, scene five,” Even said and his other hand came up and then he was cupping Isak’s face in his hands. “Romeo and Juliet are dancing- and Romeo says then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take. What comes after?”

“I, I don’t know,” Isak answered and he doesn’t, but god he knew what he wanted to happen.

Even’s body moved to press into Isak’s just slightly, just enough, and his face becomes closer, too, so fucking close. Isak couldn’t stop thinking bout the distance, the lack of it.

“Ah, I remember now,” Even’s eyebrows drew down, as though he was thinking very hard, concentrating.

“What is it?” Isak asked, his voice barely there and God, how long have they been here, how long has this been happening? It feels like forever, like they’ve been in each other’s orbits for years and they’ll never break free enough to collide-

“They kiss,” Even said and suddenly it happened. His lips were on Isak’s, Isak’s lips were on his, and Isak’s arms were wrapped around Even’s shoulders, he pulled him close, so close, he was so warm, and Isak felt like he was going to float away.

They kissed more than that, pulling away to breathe and smile and kiss some more, and this, Isak thought, was the best kiss. Better than any he’s had, better than any he’s dreamed of, better than any kiss on any stage, in any script, ever.

“You should help me more often,” Even said an eternity later, when they’ve sunk down to sit on the wooden floor of the stupid fake balcony, the wonderful fake balcony.

“Yeah,” Isak nodded, smiling and smiling, running his fingers through Even’s hair, “Yeah, I could do that.”