#or is getting the drugs from dorian.

[alexisnotstraight]

My Chemical Romance for Blender, april 2005 by Dorian Lymskey

"We're here to fight evil"

If death rockers My Chemical Romance say they're superheroes, then who is Blender to argue? we just don't remember Spider-Man having so many problems with drink, drugs and swearing in front of kids.

One day last august, Gerard Way boarded a plane to Japan with the grawing conviction that the might not be coming back. Over the past past year, the old singer for the rock group My Chemical Romance had got it into his head that he had to be drunk to perform, and then needed Xanax to switch off his brain afterwards, and the cumbination was making him suicidally depressed. Way didn't like being suicidally depressed, so he'd often add cocaine to the mix. That's when his mood really got black. He spent the days before the flight saying goodbye to friends in New Jersey, just in case

In Japan, Way spent all his time drunk. Before the final Tokyo show, he got so trashed on Heinekens and vodka tonics that he realized, even as he was performing, that he wouldn't be a able to remember anything about it the next day. After he came off stage he spent half an hour throwing up in a garbage can, until there was nothing coming up except bile. Tonight, be thought to himself, his hair caked with womit, I've drunk my last drink.

"It was a vicious circle," he says matter-of-factly. "I needed it to function but it made me want to kill myself. It made me extremely unpredictable and dangerous to myself. I didn't want it to get to the point where it became like a VHi Behind the Music where they show this seally had picture of me 30 pounds overweight, throwing up on the floor in Berlin. I didn't want that to happen to this band".

Way's cold-turkey fight back to the band's home of Belleville. New Jersey, was escruciating-almost 7.000 miles of skin-crawling, sweat-soaked willies. "I got really emotional outside the airport when we landed. I didn't know if I was going to see these guys again." He went straight to his therapist and booked into Alcoholics Anonymous, knowing that in the same week My Chemical Romance had to replace their drummer, fiim a video and start their tour. And you thought you'd had a hard week at work.

"We got through the hard shit," says Way. "This is the easy part".

Any fears last summer that My Chemical Romance were going to implode into obscurity were knocked flat by their swaggering teen-dysfunction anthem "I'm Not Okay (I Promise)."

Inspired by the high school experiences of Way and his friends, it delivers angst-rock verities with a knowing wink, not to mention the kind of melody that ignites careers. The tongue-in-cheek video, filmed in the same L.A. high school as Donnie Darko, depicted MCR as proudly geeky misfits. It was a role that didn't require much rehearsal.

Way calls My Chemical Romance's music "death rock." Others have tagged it goth punk or emo. Some endearing individuals have overcome genre confusion by simply calling MCR faggots. "Our guitarist Frank met somebody who said, 'How do you feel when people stop liking your band because they find out you're gay?" says Way, curling his lip with pointed amusement.

To the more meat-headed members of the Warped tour fraternity, some eyeliner and the occasional ambivalent lyric (in "You Know What They Do to Guys Like Us in Prison, Gerard sings "I'll kiss your lips again" to a male character) are too much to process, but Way hopes MCR can change a few minds.

"We've always tried to switch the way people think about rock bands," he says. "That [lyric] puts a dividing line between people. Are you on our side and you want to be different or are you on that side and you want to throw a football at my head?".

Only a morbid former comic-book artist from blue-collar New Jersey could have hatched a band as toughly unorthodox as My Chemical Romance. Gerard Way writes the songs with his bandmates -his bassist brother Mikey Way, guitarists Ray Toro and Frank lero, and new drummer Bob Bryar-but the vision is all his. He illustrates the record sleeves and defines their image. Recently he chose matching shirts, ties and armbands for the band to wear in the video for "Helena." taking enormous care not to resemble (a) the Hives or (b) the Nazis.

Most important, he's the one who assembled the band back in late 2001. when September 11 jolted him out of his rut as a struggling illustrator. On their 2002 debut album, I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love, and last year's Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, MCR yoke the thunder of punk to the black humor of Morrissey, Nick Cave and Tom Waits, and blaze with purpose.

"There are bands that are in it for the wrong reason, polluting the airwaves and filling their own pockets," Gerard growls. "Or just saying. Oh I wanna be a rockstar. Right. You've got a lot of kids following you. What are you saying to them?"

So what are MCR saying?

He's ready for this one. "We're saying it's OK to be messed up. There's other people just like you. And if we stick together we'll get through this."

When Gerard was still working in comic books, his favorite creation was The Amazing Goffo Brothers, Piano Movers Extraordinaire. A black comedy set in a creepy, anonymous city, it was a metaphor for the relationship between him and his younger brother, Mikey.

Despite their age difference (Gerard is 27: Mikey is 24), the Way brothers wore matching outfits as children. Today, the Ways arrive at a Midtown Manhattan restaurant wearing identical black jackets, but that's the only visible similarity.

With his blood-red tie, ink-black hair and snow-pale skin, Gerard looks part Jack White, part Edward Scissorhands, and sounds as if he's been hanging out at the Bada Bing! club. His stick-thin sibling, meanwhile, wears oblong-framed glasses and the kind of candy-striped wool hat favored by fourth-graders and fashion stylists. He has the most extraordinary laugh: a shrill, girlish giggle that causes waiters to turn their heads.

They grew up in the predominantly Italian-American town of Belleville, in Sopranos country the Pizzaland restaurant glimpsed in the show's opening credits is a few blocks from the house they still live in with their auto-mechanic dad and hairdresser mom. In Jersey, says Gerard, "There's a 99% chance you're not going to do anything with your life." Mikey yelps with pretend outrage.

"Well, 90%, maybe," his brother concedes in a deadpan drawl. "Every time I come back to Jersey, it's ready to put its tentacles all over me and suck me right back in. If I'm home for more than three weeks. I forget I'm in a band. I start to fill out applications for supermarkets."

Is there anything good about the Garden State?

"I think it gives you a bleak outlook on life, which is awesome," says Mikey, cackling. "It gives you an edge. When you're from Jersey, people act like you're from Rikers.

Gerard nods. "Sometimes all we have to do is get up there, make some feedback and say, 'Yeah we're from Noo Joisey,' and then hit 'em like a bomb. People are like, 'Hey, I don't want to get beat up!"

After high school, Gerard studied art and Mikey drifted his way through college: "I thought college was a place you went to find people to be in a band with." Sometimes they played in bands together, but Gerard was more committed to becoming an artist, which was proving to be a disheartening process. When he eventually quit, his big project was a magic cartoon chimp called Breakfast Monkey. "I was doing bullshit," he shrugs.

After September 11, Gerard wrote his first song. "Skylines and Turnstiles," and played it to an old friend, drummer Matt Pelissier. Pelissier knew a guitarist called Ray Toro. "They played me their one song and I was jumping around the attic and headbanging," says Toro, a genial, frizzy- haired film buff with a caricature of Alfred Hitchcock tattooed on his left arm.

"Gerard sounded really sincere about wanting to start something real. That's what made me excited."

The members of My Chemical Romance aren't especially weird-it's not like any of them collect skulls or serial killer memorabilia-but they all grew up with reasons to feel like outsiders.

Toro was a shy kid with an overprotective mother. Instead of going out with friends, he'd stay at home playing guitar to Jimi Hendrix or Metallica. Guitarist Frank lero suffered from bronchitis and ear infections and was ill almost constantly until the fifth grade. He was raised by his mom after she split from his dad, a musician who worked on records by John Lennon and Kiss. "I'm in the family music industry," he says. "My dad would ask me how school was, but mostly it was, 'When are you going to start playing?".

Jazz-trained drummer Bob Bryar was an Illinois kid "who took apart radios and stuff and then tried to put them back together and realized they didn't work." He has a dark sense of humor that can sometimes come off as surliness. "I get these urges to fuck off sometimes," he says. "I find it hard to entertain myself."

Bryar befriended the rest of the band in 2003, when he was a soundman for the Used, whom My Chemical Romance were supporting. When relations with Pelissier deteriorated, he stepped in. The new lineup had just two days to practice before their next tour.

"I haven't relaxed in a long time," sighs lero. "I look forward to that. I'd like to take a step back and look at some newspaper clippings."

The next morning, the sky is the color of a dirty washbowl and it's being emptied on New Jersey. Brian Schechter, My Chemical Romance's manager, taps at his cellphone as he steers his car through the damp, gray streets to pick up the Ways. We collect Mikey first.

"Did you see that MTV.com headline?" he asks, still wearing his striped hat. "MCR Aim for Smashing Pumpkins Status. It was out of context, but it's OK makes people think it's possible."

The band's destination is Philadelphia's Theatre of Living Arts. A local radio station held a competition between high schools to raise the most food for homeless shelters, the prize being an exclusive My Chemical Romance show. Considering the audience will be as young as 13. some adjustments need to be made. "We should probably have a PG show tonight," says Schechter. "We didn't do a show for charity just for Gerard to call them a bunch of motherfuckers."

It's a forlorn hope. "Put your fucking hands together!" cries Gerard within minutes of stepping onstage. In a black-velvet suit, red tie and black armband, he struts across the stage, wagging his finger to the lyrics or spraying mouthfuls of water over the front rows, while his band compress punk, metal, goth and glam into furiously concise pop songs. When he introduces "Headfirst for Halos" as "a song about suicide," you can almost feel the ripples of concern from the adult chaperones lurking around the edges of the room. However, even they can't resist tapping a toe to "I'm Not Okay (I Promise)." Last night MCR played it on The Late Show With David Letterman. Tonight they're playing it to a couple hundred Philadelphia high school kids. Letterman was a highlight of their career to date, but it's here that the song makes most sense.

"I didn't do my usual thing, where I compare high school to prison," protests Gerard later, sucking on a cigarette in a dimly lit backstage office. He admits he can see how people might get the wrong idea about MCR. "Journalists usually portray us as a fucked-up, dark, vampire. alcoholic rock band. Until they meet us."

Although he's got the charisma and the goth pinup looks to be an angst-rock martyr, Gerard seems too grounded to play the feel-my-pain card. Maybe it's the Jersey in him. Even when he talks about his therapist (a "rad guy" who turned him on to Brian Eno), he's pragmatic.

"If you're in this band, you're in it for the right reasons," Gerard declares. "You're not in it for money or fame. You're in it to do some good. Becoming more popular, it's like people are granting us superpowers and we have to use them to fight evil."

Is that the comic books talking?

"Oh yeah," he says, his grin a pearly sliver in the gloom. "We're like the Doom Patrol."

[isobellenoire]

Solas is Neurodiverse.

This is of course my opinion, don't invalidate me, if you find comfort in this character then I'm glad, join the party!

• Info dumping (You boost his approval by asking him about magic & the fade... and oh my world does he have a lot to say about it!)

• Strong sense of justice... freeing the slaves, wanting to right wrongs. He feels so strongly about injustice, especially when he can sympathise (mages & elves) a strong sense of social justice is often linked with ND people because we are marginalised, mistreated and ridiculed. I can often get angry, irate and depressed when there's injustice in the world and for a lot of my ND friends it's the same.

• Likes to be alone (he still has friends who are spirits, but he doesn't actively seek out companionship with people) prefers his own company. (Hermit tarot... come on! I'm crying in INTP/INTJ here)

• Always reading, writing, he even paints a whole ass mural on the walls as skyhold in a short burst of time, hyperfocus/hyperfixation.

• Comes across as blunt. I've been told I'm blunt so many times it's infuriating when I don't mean to be, I'm just firm in what I know to be true and will say it without dancing around the matter.

• Speaks 'strangely' in a poetic rhythm. While not an exclusive trait, given everything else it holds merit.

• He does have a great deal of empathy if you romance him/get to know him, but on a surface level he seems distant because he doesn't open up personally! It takes a LOT to crack that egg. I'm 4 years into a committed relationship and I still get told I don't open up enough when I'm struggling with emotions because I keep them internalised... probably a trauma response but in Solas' case... yeah, definitely a trauma response.

• Comes across argumentative when talking about stuff to which the group (Dorian especially during party banter) will ask if he's upset with them, and he says he isn't. ND people are always stuffed in the 'uncanny valley' and seen as outsiders, or stand-offish... we're just not very good with social nuances in terms of delivery, but are deeply self aware of that and prefer to observe, and I argue Solas is incredibly self aware. (Knows when he is being 'selfish' or 'foolish')

• Incredibly knowledgeable on a lot because he's intensively researched it, has to know everything about that subject and becomes deeply immersed in it.

• He never lied about anytning, he just didn't throw it out there... Autistic people can lie you know... however not once did he lie, he just kept his secrets hidden, that's very different to lying. Lying wild be 'Are you Fen'Harel'?... 'No' I've kept secrets from people for a long ass time to spare their feelings and my own self interest. (Not as bad as it sounds ahah! Just an example)

• History nerd... C'mon most of us have a favourite time period that isn't this one...

• I mentioned the paintings, he's also an artist, as well as a dreamer. A lot of us have infiltrated science or the arts... or both! Most of the world's leading scientists and artists are ND. He probably has an idetic memory.

I have more if people care to hear it, but in my opinion and based on my own personal experience being AuDHD, I'd say he is. I resonate with his character more deeply than the others because no ND person is alike and we all have our own personal struggles/wins.

A similar example in media to Solas would be (and hear me out ahah) Walter White (minus the drugs) but intelligence and the way he speaks to others, hides stuff from people (and assumes an alias to seperate himself) I definitely see WW as Autistic. So why not Solas?

Can we please stop infantalizing ASD, and applying the manic pixie lense to it, there's so much more to it that just 'quirky'. Cole is practically confirmed, people have debated Sera being ADHD, but also they are painted with a similar 'childish' brush.

Thanks for coming to my ted talk ahah.

[shadowdaddies]

Hey do u think u can write a dark manorian x f!reader I think that would be intense

ooh this was my first time writing something like this and it was def intense. thank you for the request💜

Meant to Be

dark!Manorian x fem!reader

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Warnings: kidnapping, implied violence, drugging

Pounding your fists on the bedroom door, you screamed. “Let me out! You cowards, where the fuck is he?” You were out of breath, exhausted from trying to escape the room they’d locked you in. The doors and windows were all sealed shut, and with the raging fireplace and the many layers of skirts in your wedding dress, you were in desperate need of water.

Crumpling to the floor, you sobbed into your hands - mind reeling over the events of the recent hours. The happiest day of your life quickly turned the worst - flashes of your family’s horrified faces, your fiancé’s fear as you were snatched out of his arms. 

You were drawn out of your nightmarish thoughts by the sound of the door clicking open. Two sets of feet were visible from the cracks between your fingers, and you pulled your hands back to see Manon standing over you as Dorian closed the door behind them. She walked around to your side, crouching down to your level. “Oh, my sweet girl. Why are you so upset?” she cooed, bringing a hand to your face to wipe the smudged makeup. 

Your eyes simmered with rage at her audacity. “Why am I upset? Are you fucking kidding me? You kidnapped me from my wedding! Where - where is he?” Your voice broke off as the last question left your mouth. Deep down, you knew where your fiancé was - what they had done with him. But you couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge it.

Dorian crouched at your other side, a glass of water in his hand as he brushed the hair from your face. You jerked away from his touch, heart racing like the prey that you were, caught between two predators. Dorian tsk’d at your reaction to his touch. “Now, that’s not very nice. I came in here to check on you and bring you water, and this is how you thank me?” 

You glared at him, reluctantly taking the glass with shaky hands and drank down the contents. Instant relief flooded your veins as the water cooled you down, survival mode kicking in. You had to get out of here - if only you could make it to the door, then you could find a window and make your escape. 

A delicate finger tapped the bottom of your chin, angling your face towards Manon. Her golden eyes glowed with pleasure when you looked at her. “Good girl,” she whispered, words dripping with pride. Thumb stroking your cheek, Manon spoke to you as though she were soothing a frightened animal. “See? We’re not here to hurt you. We love you.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but a plan came to mind, and you would need the element of surprise on your side. Dorian stroked your hair again, and this time you tried to seem comforted by the action, turning to face him. He beamed at you, moving his hand down to swipe his thumb across your bottom lip in a display of ownership.

Drawing his hand back, Dorian’s sapphire eyes glittered as he watched your face. Good. You needed to keep their focus away from your hands. You subtly shifted up onto your heels, thankful for the full skirts that hid your movements as you prepared to run. Dorian hummed, watching you in admiration as he spoke. “You’ll be so much happier with us, sweet girl. You won’t even miss that poor excuse of a man.” 

His words snapped the leash you had on your emotions, launching you into action. You smashed the glass against the floor, grabbing shards of glass as you blindly swung them at Manon and Dorian and jumped up towards the door. 

You barely made it two steps before phantom hands wrapped around your ankles, and you fell face first towards the ground before iron nails tore through the back of your dress. You were suspended in the air, Manon holding you with terrifying strength as Dorian walked in front of you. He sighed, twirling the glass shard in his fingers and looked down at you with the same disappointment as a parent might look at a naughty child. “And here I thought you might have come to your senses.”

Manon hauled you to your feet, phantom hands now pinning your hands to your sides as a wave of nausea flooded over you. The room began to spin, and you struggled to focus as Dorian’s voice became a distant echo. “We thought you might need some more time to calm down. I didn’t expect you to drink all of that water, though. You’ll be out for awhile.” 

You felt warm, strong arms scoop you up as the world faded to black, and you realized you would never escape them. “Sleep tight, sweet girl. We’ll be right here when you wake up.”

[charincharge]

I Don't Want To Wait, sixy-nine

AN: I’ve been waiting literal years to get to chapter 69, but alas. It didn’t work out the way I wanted it to. In fact, I think this chap is going to be split in two. Hopefully the second half will be up by the end of the weekend. Please enjoy and lmk via comment or reblog if you’re still out there.

Aelin leaned her head back into the seat rest and let the wind whip through her long hair, her stress melting away with each mile they drove away from Orynth. In the aftermath of the Evalin debacle, she was more than ready for a full week of nothing resembling schoolwork or stress whatsoever. Nothing but relaxation, sunshine, and sex. She’d even made a special trip to the mall with Manon and Elide to purchase a few new nightgowns for the occasion. And she could not wait to show them off. And honestly, she couldn’t wait to have sex in a real bed. Her knees were totally bruised and red from the back seat of the Jeep. She sighed happily, imagining the week-full of scantily clad moments and couldn’t help but look over at Rowan, who was hyper focused as he made his way through the winding highways at the base of the Terrasen mountains.

She took a moment to truly ogle him. The flex of his forearm as he made his way meticulously around every curve. His furrowed brow and his recently cropped hair showing off the thick column of his throat. One of his teeth peeked from between his pillowy lips, gnawing on the skin there, completely oblivious to Aelin’s lusting.

“Aelin, look away from your boyfriend before he crashes the car,” Lysandra laughed from the backseat, causing Aedion to snort loudly beside her. “Could you be any hornier? Gods.”

“Yes,” Rowan smirked, still not taking his eyes off the road ahead of him. Okay, so maybe not completely oblivious. “You sure your parents won’t care that we’re spending the week at their beach house?” Rowan asked Lysandra for approximately hundredth time since she’d pitched the idea the week earlier.

“They’re on a luxury cruise on the coast of the Southern continent for the rest of the month,” she replied, giving her same answer no matter how many times he asked for reassurance.

The plan had come together fairly last minute, not that Aelin was complaining. She’d anticipated her spring break being a boring (but still delightful) affair of vegging out in front of the television, but this was going to be a whole lot better. Obviously, spring break was a minefield of substance use (and abuse), and Lysandra had pitched the idea of a sober week at her parents’ completely empty beachside mansion. Aelin could tell that Lysandra was feeling genuinely nervous about the prospect of being alone, and Aelin was happy to gather a group of people, who would enjoy a week of sobriety. Manon and Elide had jumped at the opportunity to be unsupervised for a week, while Dorian had pratically thrown himself across the table asking to join. (Apparently his dad had been more annoying than usual as he waited for college apps to roll in). And though Aelin had anticipated Chaol not wanting to participate, given whatever weirdness was going on with him and Dorian, he also seemed exciting to come.

What Aelin hadn’t anticipated, though, was her cousin’s presence. He was waiting at Lysandra’s, suitcase in hand, as Rowan and Aelin swung by earlier this morning. He’d waved her raised brow off with a loud, “Let’s get this sober party started!” And that was, apparently that.

She looked behind her at the pair, wondering what was actually going on between them. Despite the absence of any kind of drugs or alcohol, Aelin had a distinct feeling this week was going to be a wild one.

. . .

The house was… incredible. She’d seen pictures of it before, but Lysandra’s family used it primarily as an event space, renting it out during the summer months. It was still slightly too chilly to utilize the beach, so it sat, dark and empty. But, just stepping into the brightly lit foyer, Aelin felt lighter than air.

“You and Rowan are in the master on the fourth floor,” Lysandra said, pointing to the staircase.

“Really?”

“Aedion requested that you both be out of earshot from him,” she said with a teasing smile.

“And where is my dear cousin going to be sleeping?” Aelin asked, curiosity peaking.

Lysandra rolled her eyes, and Aelin didn’t fail to notice that wasn’t an answer.

“Manon and Elide are stopping for takeout, so text them with your order ASAP,” she said instead.

Aelin was going to push further, but Rowan came sweeping in beside her, their suitcases in hand, and starting running up the stairs.

“Race ya!”

“That’s cheating!”

Aelin tripped over her own sneakers trying to get ahead of him, but the man was built like a tree trunk, and no matter how many times she tried to snake around him, he blocked her again and again.

Finally, as they rounded the corner to master suite, Aelin was able to pull ahead. And the sight that awaited her was even better than she could have imagined.

Squealing, she took off in a run before falling back, full body flopping and bouncing onto the

king-sized bed, which took up the center of the room. She sighed happily as she stared up at the billowy canopy above her, the smell of beachside breeze surrounding her as Rowan cracked open their giant bay window. Behind a set of gauzy curtains was a private balcony, overlooking the beach and the ocean beyond it, and Aelin felt like royalty with how good everything felt. She could get used to this.

With a wide smile, Rowan came and flopped next to her, both of them bouncing in tandem off the mattress and crashing down into each other in a breathless pile of limbs.

“Hi,” Rowan said, curling his body towards hers, his green eyes dark as his hand ran its way under the hem of her shirt. She inched forward in return, leaning into the pads of his fingers as they circled the skin of her back.

“Hi.”

Her voice sounded breathless to her own ears. Although, that could be due to the fact that they’d just sprinted up four flights of stairs.

“Dinner! Text.” Lys shouted up the stairs, breaking the spell between them momentarily. She jotted off a quick text, then resumed her position staring at Rowan. Gods, he was so beautiful. And she was so lucky to have him. His fingers never ceased their movement, delicately running up and down the curve of her side, as his face relaxed into a contended smile. She briefly had the urge to pull her journal from her backpack and record this moment, this prolonged moment of touching between them, as she had before they’d admitted their feelings for each other. The shadow of a past that she barely knew anymore.

She’d brought the journal in hopes that she’d be able to write out any of her feelings regarding her murky future, but with Rowan’s face merely inches away, it all seemed so clear. She’d only ever need him. Unable to resist the pull between them for a second longer, she tugged the collar of his shirt toward her and pressed her lips to his in a soft kiss.

He mumbled something against her mouth, but she was too blissed out to really hear his words.

“Shouldn’t we go downstairs,” he laughed, as she trailed kisses down his throat. “Help Lys unpack the groceries and games and stuff?”

“Mmm, no,” Aelin said, rolling her boyfriend to his back and lifting up his shirt to scatter soft kisses against his abs. She loved the way they clenched beneath her touch. It made her feel so powerful. Rowan snorted loudly, but it morphed quickly into a groan as she fiddled with the waistband of his pants.

“Ace,” he attempted to admonish her. “Friends. Downstairs.”

“Guess we’ll just have to be quiet.”

He flopped back onto the fluffy white comforter with a muffled groan as Aelin tugged on his pants. And as she started to move over him, she errantly thought she should have texted her friends that they would be late to dinner and not to wait for them.

. . .

They were indeed late for dinner. But no one minded. The table was filled with chatter between their friends, who barely spared the freshly showered pair a glance as they walked in. They table was mid-card game already, and Aelin laughed loudly as she figured out they were playing an extremely intense game of Go Fish between bites of their seafood feast.

“Go. Fish,” Aedion said confidently, causing Dorian’s blue eyes to narrow with irritation.

“If you have a three you have to give it to me,” Dorian insisted, causing Aedion to smirk back.

“I know how to play the game, pretty boy.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

A matching smirk appeared on Dorian’s face, and the sudden moment of silence was so charged that Aelin felt herself warm slightly. Looking around the table, she knew she was not the only one who noticed. The tension coming from both Lysandra and Chaol’s tight smiles was palpable.

Well, that was certainly an interesting development.

“Dorian, do you have any fives?” Manon cut in, apparently observing the same situation that Aelin had.

The spark died quickly as the game progressed, but it didn’t escape Aelin’s attention that Chaol’s eyes flicked between Aedion and Dorian a few dozen times. He’d insisted they were fine and that the moment they spent as more than friends was just a blip in the past, but given his furrowed brow and tipped frown, Aelin had a feeling that wasn’t exactly true. Poor Chaol.

The rest of the night followed without incident — they received a full house tour from Lysandra, who showed them how to use the highly complicated smart house settings, which included internet, lights, the thermostat and auto-timed blackout shades. She also led them out to the deck and taught them how to turn on the hot tub, as well as the outdoor lights and music system. After she taught them how to turn on the projector in the theater room, and where everything had been put away in the kitchen, they decided they deserved an evening of rest. They all gathered on the family room the couch to eat copious amounts of candy and popcorn and watch a horror comedy that Aedion had picked. Aelin was glad she and Rowan had gotten in some alone time earlier, because somewhere toward the middle of the movie, she could feel her eyes getting heavy with sleep.

“You okay?” she could hear Rowan ask somewhere just out of reach of the depths of her exhaustion.

She mumbled a soft, “I’m asleep,” as she flopped harder onto his chest, and she could feel the rumble of his laughter beneath her cheek as he stroked her hair, and that was all she remembered.

She didn’t wake until hours later when the first hints of buttery sunlight peaked through the curtains of their master suite. Based on Rowan’s soft and steady breath beside her, she knew it must be really early, and a quick glance at the clock told her it wasn’t even six yet. Despite not being a morning person at all, she felt invigorated and inspired. She crept quietly out of bed, throwing on a pair of sweats and grabbing her journal before heading downstairs.

The delicious aroma of coffee awaited her downstairs, a full pot already brewed from the fancy machine Lysandra had taught them how to use last night in their detailed house tour. She looked around to see who else was awake, but the kitchen was completely empty. Instead of doing further inspection, she poured a hefty amount of hazelnut creamer into her coffee and grabbed a blanket from the stack on the end of the couch to wrap around her shoulders before making her way onto the deck.

The sun was just starting to peak over the horizon when she settled in at the outdoor table with her coffee. Awash in the beauty of the blue waves softly lapping at the shore of the beach, contrasting with the deep purple and pink sky first tinged with the first rays of the firey red-orange sun, Aelin felt like she could finally breathe for the first time in a long time.

Her worn journal was battered and bruised, and she regretted that it had been ignored in the recent months, in favor of her color-coded planner. It was her dad who’d reminded her of its existence, wondering if she wouldn’t feel better if she put pen to paper about how she was feeling. And though she wasn’t exactly sure what was going to come out, she placed her pen against a fresh page and took off. As the words formed in her messy sloping print, she found herself writing about the moment itself. She wanted to remember this sky, the way the sunlight spilled over the darkness like a molten lava, lighting up the horizon like a fire, starting deep glowing red, then turning a burning orange, until it became unmistakably golden.

She didn’t know how long she’d been writing for when the seats next to her started to fill up with her friends, but the sun was firmly fixed in the sky, daylight pouring over the wide expanse of sand and glistening atop the ocean’s placid undulations. She shut her journal and reached for her coffee mug, which had been freshly filled and was steaming again. Her glance drifted next to her where Rowan lifted his own mug, which read “World’s Best Granddad” in a scrawling script, in an air cheers, and they both smiled as they took a sip in unison.  

“So, what’s on the agenda today, Miss Lys?” Aedion asked, clapping his hand loudly on her shoulder.

Lys glanced up at him with a beaming smile. “Glad you asked.”

Lysandra had put in more prep than Aelin had even anticipated, making sure that they had multiple activity options for each day they spend there. Aelin had known Lysandra was nervous about this week, but she hadn’t realized exactly how nervous until she saw Lys’s list for potential activities and which weather they’d be best for.

Since the weather was abnormally warm for this time of year, they decided to take advantage of the sunshine and explore the local town. It was a short walk from the house, and though it was pretty much just two streets of “downtown,” it was fun to look into each of the darkened windows, seeing where tourists would line up to indulge in artisan fudge and hand crafted beach bags, decadent scoops of ice cream, and kitschy beachwear as soon as summer came around.  

“Sup, buttmunch?” Aedion swung a large arm around Aelin’s shoulders as they ambled down the main street.

Aelin’s instinct was to shrink out of her cousin’s arms and tell him to fuck off, but he had the distinct privilege of catching her in a moment where she was trying to relish the moment. She remembered how hard it sucked when he went away to college, how far away he felt, and couldn’t resist leaning into his grasp. It only caused him confusion.

“You good?”

Aelin nodded. But Aedion knew her too well.

“I heard about your mom.”

Well, that caught Aelin’s attention.

“What? How?”

He nodded toward Lysandra. “Don’t be mad if she wasn’t supposed to tell. She was just… worried. If anyone knows about parental issues…”

Aelin shrugged. “I’m okay.” But Aedion wasn’t satisfied with that answer and proceeded to pinch her side. “OW!”

She must have reacted too exuberantly because before she could say anything, Rowan was there, hovering and worrying and asking Aedion what was going on.

“I’m fine, buzzard,” she laughed, shooing him away.

“Sorry I upset your bodyguard,” Aedion chuckled. And it felt so natural to just be with him that she almost cried. She thought about the way their relationship had ebbed and flowed in the last two years, and she regretted… a lot. She loved Aedion. And cutting him out was one of the worst things she’d done in a long list of mistakes.

“He’s fine. And so am I,” Aelin reassured her cousin, who was still peering at her with the eyes she saw in the mirror every day. Damn, it was so hard to lie to him. “Or, I will be.” She took a deep breath. “I’m just looking forward to a week with no drama.”

At that, Aedion snorted loudly.

“I’m sorry, you gathered a group of stressed out couples and almost couples and former couples and expected them not to bring you drama?” he asked, eyes sparkling.

Aelin’s jaw dropped. “And which one are you?”

“I don’t believe in labels,” he replied, puffing out his chest. But his posturing was short-lived as he lowered his voice. “Dorian is… nice.”

“I KNEW IT!” Aelin hissed.

“Shush,” he chastised her, pulling her closer.

“But what about Lys?” she asked.

And she saw the way Aedion’s eyes glazed over with concern as he sought out the brunette in front of them. “She’s an incredible human, and I like her a lot.” He paused. “Maybe more than I should.” He sighed as he looked down at Aelin again. “She’s strong as hell, and she’d straight up die for anyone she cares about. It reminds me a lot of someone else I know…” He chuckled. “But, she’s not allowed to date for at least another six months, according to her sobriety rules. And she said she’ll probably follow it for longer, given how fucked up her last relationship was. And, she’s straight up told me that. And I have to respect that. So, yeah, I’m looking elsewhere.” He paused, his eyes sliding to Dorian’s swaying hips a few feet in front of them. “And elsewhere is cute.”

Aelin rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and elsewhere has a former-almost relationship sleeping next door to him.”

“I know,” Aedion laughed. “Which is why I think you should be prepared for drama,” he said, tickling her side. “I know you can’t possssibly understand because you’re in the most incredible amazing relationship ever, but…”

“You talking about my butt?” Dorian quipped, winking over his shoulder, and Aedion’s cheeks had the audacity to turn pink.

Aelin didn’t think she’d ever seen him blush before, and she couldn’t believe the shade of scarlet he turned at Dorian’s attention. Which… was worrisome, given Chaol and Lysandra’s sudden tension in their posture. Drama. Oh dear. Perhaps Aedion was right. Aelin considered herself warned.

. . .

When they got back to the house, everyone was ordered to leave the kitchen. Manon and Chaol (of all people!) had decided to cook everyone a gourmet dinner. Unbeknownst to anyone, Chaol had pursued an interest in the culinary arts and he was enamored by the technology available to him in Lysandra’s parents’ kitchen. And apparently Manon was an excellent chef, according to Elide, who had enjoyed many meals via her girlfriends’ talents. As they had walked by a local grocery, they’d picked up all the ingredients they needed for the most delicious dinner ever. They spent their time walking through the aisles, deciding what to prepare and landed on a multi-course meal that would knock everyone’s socks off. Apparently last night’s takeout was… fine, but they wanted something more elevated. Just from overhearing their planning, Aelin had deduced dinner would consist of several different salads, seared scallops, a complicated steak dish, and a dessert that Aelin would be dreaming about for hours. She thought perhaps they had watched too much Top Chef, but who was she to complain about receiving the fruits of their labor?

Since the group had hours to kill and the sun was starting to sink into the horizon and leave the house shrouded in dark shadow, Lys suggested that they start up the hot tub while Manon and Chaol manned the kitchen. Elide and Chaol had offered themselves up as sous chefs to help with any prep, but they were rejected, leaving them to join the hot tub crew. Aelin felt absolutely great about that. And as soon as she put on her bikini, so did Rowan. His hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her close and nuzzling his face into her neck. “Mmm, you smell so good,” he moaned, and Aelin couldn’t resist smiling widely as she remembered the multiple nightgowns she’d brought and hadn’t taken out yet. Rowan would be dying. And they’d be putting this master bed with its fluffy mattress and even fluffier comforter to good use. She’d specifically bought a few sexy nightgowns in colors she knew he would love – gold, green, and red. But she was careful to push them to the bottom of the suitcase and out of Rowan’s view. After arranging the clothes just so, so everything was out of sight, she placed her her journal on top to and pulled her bathing suit out.

He was already clad in low-slung shorts, which highlighted his abs in an obscene way, and she contemplated saying fuck it to the hot tub and just pulling him into bed right in that very moment, but she also knew that she should be social and that this was not just a sexcation for her and her boyfriend. When she looked at the wide expanse of his chest and thick roped arms that was hard to remember. So she pulled him out of the room quickly, not wanting to tempt herself more than she needed.

In the hot tub, Lys and Aedion were already stewing in the steamy water, seltzers in hand as they tried to control their temperature. Aelin stepped in and let the lapping bubbles overtake her, sliding onto a seat that was right next to a pulsing jet. She couldn’t help but moan, causing all the eyes in the hot tub to slide to her.

“Sorry,” she apologized, causing a round of laughter to take off.

Dorian and Elide slinked in shortly after, and even though Aelin was leaning hard into Rowan’s side, she kept an eye on Aedion and Dorian and Lys, wondering exactly what was going on between all of them at every moment. Rowan definitely noticed at one point, elbowing her side, but she ignored him.

“Ugh, I’m overheated,” Rowan complained about thirty minutes into their soak.

“Really? I’m perfect,” Aelin replied, causing everyone to laugh.

Rowan shook his head, laughing at his girlfriend. “I’m gonna take a cold shower and then I’ll be back,” he assured her, leaving her with a solid kiss that left Aelin breathless.

“Y’all are as disgusting as ever,” Aedion said, causing Dorian to snort loudly.

“That’s nothing,” he added. “Wait until you see them in the minutes before they head to their not-so-secret parking lot spot to fuck.”

Aelin’s cheek’s filled with blood at his words, but she wasn’t ashamed. “Whatever,” she laughed off.

Even Elide joined in the razzing, making Aelin realize that maybe she and Rowan were more obvious than they let on. She was so busy laughing that she barely realized that Rowan hadn’t rejoined them until everyone was getting out of the tub an hour later.

As she walked through the kitchen, she sniffed in the incredible aromas and told Manon that she was looking forward to dinner, to which her friend simply replied, “You better be.”

Dripping slightly, she skipped up the stairs to the master bedroom. Rowan was laid out on the bed, his eyes closed, and Aelin assumed that he was simply exhausted, and walked herself straight into the shower. She showered the chlorine out of her hair and took extra time to shave her legs all the way up to her hips, making sure that she was feeling good and confident about being alone with Rowan tonight.

But when she made her way out to the bedroom, Rowan was staring at her with such vitriol that she was taken aback.

“Uh, hi?” she asked, and he simply scoffed.

“Hi.” She wrapped the towel tighter around her chest and looked at him for real. He did not look happy. His frown tugged down exaggeratedly and his brow was crinkled with stress lines.

“You okay?” she asked, even though the answer was an obvious no.

“Just wondering why you’re with me if you think I’m inconsiderate and emotionally stunted,” he said super casually, as if he hadn’t said something completely insane.

“What?”

He reached for her journal, which she hadn’t even realized was in his grasp, and held it in front of them.

“Apparently you think I’m selfish and horrible and completely unworthy of your attention, so I guess I’m not so sure of what you’re doing with me.”

Aelin was aghast.

“You read my journal?”

He scoffed, as if he hadn’t done anything wrong. “Well, it was out there for anyone to see. I barely had to flip through it to see all the shit you wrote about me,” he said, annoyed as ever. But all it did was spur Aelin’s anger. How…dare he?

She snatched the journal from his hands and clutched it to her still damp chest.

“You’re not even denying it. You read my journal.”

He stuck his nose into the air, not denying a thing, and Aelin’s heart panged with a hurt so large she thought maybe she was having a heart attack.

“That wasn’t okay, Ro.”

“Obviously,” he quipped. “This is where you write how much you fucking hate me.”

She could feel herself vibrating with anger as she opened the journal in front of him. “Oh yeah? I hate you?” she sassed. “Then please tell me why I spent all of the summer between junior and senior year cataloguing every time you touched me? Because I hated you?” she seethed. “This journal is my most private thoughts and feelings,” she admitted. “And most of them are about how in love with you I am.” She took a deep breath, her shoulders shaking with every deep breath. “So you read the one page where I was frustrated that you didn’t love me too? Get over it, Rowan. You put me through hell. HELL!” she shouted. “You didn’t give me any signal that you loved me too, at all. So, sorry if I had one stupid journal entry talking about how frustrated I was with you. If you had turned the fucking page,” she said, turning the page for effect. “You would have seen how stupidly obsessed and in love I was with you, but you don’t deserve to read that either.”

She shook with her anger, unaffected by the change in her boyfriends’ expression.

“Now get out.”

“But—”

“Get out.”

She watched as Rowan gathered himself off the bed and headed out the door, and she chose to ignore the small furrow in Rowan’s brow or the clenching of his jaw, as she slammed the door shut.

How dare he. Like, really. How. Dare. He? He had no right to invade her privacy and then be mad about what he’d discovered. Not to mention, if he’d only skipped ahead a few pages in the journal he would have stumbled on a time stamped record of every time he’d touched her, making her skin light on fire with lust and wanting. I’m fact, nearly 99% of that journal was just wishing and hoping that he’d ever look her way or see her as more than a friend. It was the contents of a lovestruck puppy. But NO. He had to crack open her journal and peer inside the one, single day where she hated the wanting and the pain from wanting so bad that she had to get it out — expel the poison from inside her, knowing that none of it was really how she felt. It wasn’t true then and it certainly wasn’t true now. And he knew that! So, how dare he have the audacity to be upset about her most private painful thoughts when he was the one invading them?

She could feel tears burning the edges of her eyelids but refused to let them through. Instead, she sniffed back loudly and tilted her head to the ceiling. An old fan whirred slowly above her, letting out a soft clinking sound with each rotation. One of the blades was slightly off and kept catching the very top of the chain that dangled below. Her breathing steadied as she watched the fan do its wonky loop again and again, the clinking starting to soothe her and she inhaled and exhaled with each sound. 

What a dick.

“UGH!” Aelin pushed herself up and stalked to the door, swinging it back open.

Rowan stood exactly where the door had slammed in his face, and she watched him take a breath, presumably to say he was sorry, but Aelin didn’t care. “Don’t,” she whispered under her breath. “I’m starving, and this dinner sounds so fucking good, and I don’t want to fight.”

“I just want to talk—”

“Well, I don’t,” she snapped.

To his credit, he nodded succinctly, not pushing for more.

“I’m so mad at you,” she continued. “What you did is not okay,” she said, breathing hard and ignoring the way his green eyes pinched at her words. “That journal is my private thoughts and feelings, and you reading it without me… I thought we had boundaries.”

His eyes looked sad as he said, “But I thought we told each other everything.”

And she took a large breath to reply. Because she understood. She really did. “We do. Now. But Ro, that journal is from years and years of our lives. It starts freshman year, and I still use it today. Do you know how many thoughts and feelings I’ve had about you since then?” she asked. She grabbed the journal. “If you turned the page, you would have seen a detailed time stamped spreadsheet of every time you touched me our sophomore year. Literally time stamped. But there were so many times that I wasn’t sure about us. You were with fucking Lyria! For months,” she shouted. “So, how dare you come and be mad at me when you read how I was feeling during that time? I didn’t know if you’d be with me ever.” She took another deep breath, ignoring Rowan’s pained face. “I’m sorry you got your feelings hurt, but I’m not sorry for writing my feelings down in my journal. It was the only way I was able to survive. And youi peaking into that time without acknowledging how hard you hurt me then isn’t just tone deaf, but it's stupid, Ro. Really fucking stupid.”

“I thought you wanted me to read it…” he said, trying to explain himself.

“Well, that was your mistake,” she said, wiping a rogue tear from her cheek.

Rowan apologized, but Aelin barely heard him. She’d wanted to be apart from the drama, but as she and Rowan made her way down to dinner, she realized that they were the drama. And it was about to be everyone else’s problem.

[throneofsapphics]

Manorian x a depressed reader who thinks she's not enough and committed suicide

Like they're beside her bed for week and she's unconscious and they're asking themselves why?

mental prison

Manorian x Reader  

Summary: Manon and Dorian try and figure out why you attempted. 

Warnings: attempted suicide, mental health, blood, not proofread 

A/N: i changed committing for attempted, thank you for the request!

The feeling was overwhelming. Like your brain took over, and it was all-consuming, the only thing you could focus on no matter how much anyone would tell you it wasn’t real. It was real to you, and you found it guiding your actions. 

-

You were unconscious, and surrounded by blood when they found you. Dorian sprinted for a healer, Manon clutched your wrists, trying to stop the blood still flowing, and listening desperately for your heartbeat. It was so faint her immortal ears barely picked it up. Who the hell had done this? She couldn’t catch a whiff of anyone else's scent in the room and no traces of magic beside Dorians. It wasn’t possible, you wouldn’t have … but it was the only answer she could think of. Still, she pushed it out of her mind, she wouldn’t believe it - not unless you somehow survived and told her. 

-

Dorian had to pull Manon back to let the healers do their job, holding her as they worked. He thanked the Gods they at least had magical healers in Rifthold now. 

The healers told him what he knew was the truth, but exactly what he didn’t want to hear. Why would you do this to yourself? They showed you love at every corner, always listened to your doubts, and nothing made sense about this. He couldn’t find any reason or answer and it drove him crazy. He tried asking the healers, even asking a few of your trusted friends and they didn’t have any answers either. 

The thing that rang in his mind most was why wouldn’t you tell him you were feeling this way? He supposes you didn’t have to, but did he mess up enough you couldn’t trust him? The healers said you’d survive, and the only way he’d find out is asking yourself. 

-

Manon watched you with terrifying intensity for the week you were unconscious. They said you would live, but she always listened for your heartbeat, watched for your breathing, and held your hand when she could - cold and clammy, but not the kind that comes from the dead. Her thumb would frequently drift over the thin white line marring the inside of your wrist. It healed quickly, magic resorting your skin to almost how it was before. Underneath, she could still feel your pulse. Blood was still running through your veins, still pumping to your heart and mind, still keeping you alive despite your efforts. She wanted to hate you for doing this to yourself, hate you for being your own enemy but she couldn’t. 

-

You were awake, but your eyes were heavy with fatigue, sleep, and maybe some kind of drug. You felt the soft bed underneath you, a thumb running over the scar on your wrist. It didn’t work, then, you had survived. Dread filled you with the questions you would have to answer. They would want an explanation you weren’t certain you could give. How do you explain that your mind feels like a prison? That you can’t get rid of the feelings and thoughts circling it, that this felt like the only way to free them and yourself?

[captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship]

TOG and CC similarities

Has anyone else noticed that in TOG, Dorian is pushed to get engaged to Nehemia. She is the free spirited princess to her people. He is the crown prince to the most ruthless and egotistical king in their realm and is a partier and womanizer.

Then let’s look at CC. In the HOEAB, Ruhn and Hypaxia get engaged. Ruhn is the son of the autumn king who is more interested in gaining power than his son’s happiness, while Ruhn lives in his party house and drowns himself in drinks, drugs, and casual sex. Hypaxia was hidden away by her mother and is a strong and independent woman who longs to be normal.

Not to mention, both Ruhn and Dorian fall in love with women who are strong, independent, and ruthless. They both first fall for women who they consider to be soft (Ruhn with Hypaxia when she was an unknown healer and Dorian with Sorcha). When those relationships fall apart they both crave someone who is the opposite and end up falling for these women that are complicated and ultimately are fighting for their people while in disguise as the enemy. Both end up being double agents after being brainwashed and trained from birth to be evil weapons.

I know that SJM already said that Dorian and Lucien would be besties, and I can definitely see that now. What if you added Ruhn to that bestie mix? They SJM universe would never know what hit it.

Ruhn x lydia and Dorian and manon are on very similar trajectory so I am soooooo excited to see how CC3 plays out, especially since Lydia is our first POV 😍

[ibrithir-was-here]

Lord Henry thinks that she is Dorian's illegitimate daughter and wants to hurt her as a way of punishing the dead Dorian, correct?

Correct!

He's been stewing in grief and guilt over Basil's death for two decades now, all carefully hidden under the mask of indifference and drug laced cigarettes, and now finally he thinks he's got some sort of way to strike back at the villain he failed to see (and fails to take any responsibility for starting on that road to villainy, though of course in the end Dorian's culpability is his own)

And then he gets sucker punched with the voice (all the same in tone and meter if not in pitch) of that murdered friend coming from the face of the one who murdered him and now he has no idea what on earth is happening

[merciawintersageposting]

…mkay hear me out. what if we recasted cullen rutherford?

my suggestions of talented dudes who could replace you-know-whomst🚮

dan stevens. man has range. man has rizz. man has used drugs. man has played men who have used drugs.

dev patel. let. this. man. cook.

jack lowden. because scottish guys know and can replicate awkward white british man disaster energy on a dime

sope dirisu. he can do literally any genre. he can go from wholesome energy to sadboy to It’s Complicated™️ with ease.

bonus: but only if he gets to romance Dorian. jonathan groff. because who else is gonna sing that damn song after the fall of Haven with theater kid gusto??

[nephriteknight]

Highlights From My Bells Hells Playlist

So I have a Bells Hells playlist that has some really perfect songs if I do say so myself, and I want to talk about my choices! So here's some of my favorites. (Here is the full playlist btw, with songs ranging from word-for-word-perfect to Just The Right Vibes Idk Man)

Rule #2 - Moonlight by Fish in A Birdcage For Orym :) About a person on the moon singing to their lover on Earth. "All I want is to come home to you." Is this song about Will or about Dorian? I think it's even better because it works for both. There are lines that are for Will and lines that are for Dorian and it's all mixed up and full of longing and in light of recent confessions? Just perfectly heartbreaking. "Finally broke down / Houston, please come in / There's someone that I need to talk to / Honey, how've you been? / I miss you, my dear / There's something that I have to say" "It's good to hear your voice / I'll tell you what the world looks like from up here / there's hurricanes / and blizzards too / please stay safe and warm 'til I get to you"

Control by Halsey For Laudna. This one is very straightforward. "And all the kids cried out please stop you're scaring me / I can't help this awful energy / Goddamn right you should be scared of me / Who is in control?" The rest works pretty well too, there's more lines that feel Very Delilah, it just works.

Allies or Enemies by The Crane Wives For the whole party! I happened to get into this song right when the whole "powder keg" conversation happened, and it's only gotten more relevant. "Are we allies or enemies? This will be the death of me." It's great it's perfect it's them. "What happens now? / Do we have another go / Do we bow out / And take our seperate roads / I'll admit I've had my doubts / But I want to be let in not out" "Remember when I could tell you not to smile when you were mad / And you would always crack / And we'd both be laughing in the end? / Now you're not so quick to forget"

Moving in Place by Shauna Dean Cokeland This song is so Ashton. It's about using drugs as a teenager and feeling stagnated, blaming things on other people, drowning in daydreams where you're awesome, spending time with a group of friends you really care about.... It works quite well. (I also really recommend this song if you have ADHD/use music to stim, it's got really great overlapping vocals and kinda scratchy sound--this is the song I put on when my brain is eating itself and no other music can get through to it. It's great.) "Take me to the far side of the beach / Before it falls into the ocean / Before you notice I'm eroding / I know you don't wanna be lonely / I know 'cause I would feel the same thing" I'm having trouble picking out specific quotes because they're all really wordy and long, but trust me it works and it's a great song.

Soap by The Oh Hellos Ashton! I especially like this for Ashton and Orym (platonic or romantic both are good) but it also works for Ashton and the Hells—and once again, this song hits even harder after the shard incident. As far as picking specific lines I just want to quote like the whole song, but I'll exercise some restraint. "I've heard since I was younger / That oil and water don't mix / They're polar opposites / With a molecular rift you can't fix / But I swear with all your burnt bridges / You can leech what's caustic and find / A rudimentary lye / Some kind of miraculous bind" "Oh, no / I think I'm not quite ready / To let you circle the drain / All the things we've broken / Can be puzzled together again / All your sums and your pieces / Are enough to clean up all / The messes you've made" "I think that you're worth keeping around. I think that you're worth holding onto." "I've heard if I were tougher / Then maybe I'd make it alive / I've got a tender side / I'll need a harder shell to survive / But if seeing is believing / I don't know I've seen a thing grow / Without an open coat / Not without a softness showing / I know maybe you're not quite ready / To loosen your hold / On the safety blanket you've been keeping around your shoulders / But your sums and your pieces / Are enough to make you whole / You gotta let go" "It's gonna hurt like hell / but we're gonna be well / I'll give you my best shot" Oops I basically just quoted the whole song. But look how perfect it is!!

The Leaving of Liverpool (folk song; I like this version by The High Kings) This one's for Dorian! Specifically, for Dorian leaving :( It's an old folk song about going away from home and leaving your love behind. It's not as character specific or detail heavy, but it just feels so right for Dorian having to leaving Orym and Fearne in Jrusar. "So fare thee well my own true love, and when I return united we will be. It's not the leaving of Liverpool that grieves me, but my darling, when I think of thee." My mom and I go to a Celtic Christmas concert every year, and one of the last songs is always this one. Everybody knows it, and they invite us all to join in the chorus. It's a beautiful moment, and I'm so grateful to Brian O'Donovan, the host, who passed away this year. He brought so much joy and gave so many people a piece of their home to enjoy here. He will be missed.

Canary in a Coal Mine by The Crane Wives If the title didn't clue you in, this one's for FCG! It's not just because of the mine, though, it all works really well. This song is about the 'canary', who puts so much into a relationship, doing everything to keep their partner happy and support them, but fears that when they need help themself their partner will abandon them. "Feed me promises, keep my heart well / I'll sing you songs until the darkness does recede / But if in the end I lose my voice / Will you forget about your love for me?" "Let the dirt hang heavy in your chest / Drag me deeper down the long, dark ground / Know that all my love will your breath / I will save you when your lights go out"

Bonus: A Convocation of Fauns (A Faunvocation If You Will) by the Oh Hellos Fearne. The title says it all. (It's just instrumental lol)

[possibly-evil]

Info dump about Dorrian and Ambi please I am hungry thank you

EEEEEEE TYYYY

I also got another request for this but I’ll answer this one

let’s start with Ambi:

She had a daughter when she was around 17-18, and her child’s father left her. Her family made her move out, and she had to live in a dingy apartment. Eventually, her child died of natural causes, and Ambi, in a deep depression, drowned herself. She became an angel!!

Dorrian:

after coming out as transgender, his parents kicked him out of ht e house. He eventually resorted to drugs and gangs to keep himself alive. He got top surgery in some random dingy alleyway which probably wasn’t the best decision on his part, since his scars got super infected afterwards. Eventually he died of lung cancer and became a demon.

In this universe, when people become an angel or a demon, they get a tattoo that symbolizes how they died, hence Dorian’s tattoo in the drawing. Ambi has one on her back, but I haven’t fully figured out the design yet.

Ambi signs up for a job, though it’s really just something to make sure she’s not bored in the afterlife. Dorrian is forced to participate in it, since demons don’t get a say in if they work or not. Their job is to help sort people into heaven or hell (they don’t get final say on this, but they and several other angel/demon pairs give their opinions on where the person should go, and a higher up official decides in the end.) Dorrian is a total jerk at first, but eventually he gets better and they fall in love. Ambi believes that Dorrian has changed as a person and should be let into heaven. She petitions to bring him to heaven, but she’s turned down, and is fired from her job. Rather than live apart, Ambi decides to move down and go to hell with Dorrian. They end up living in a sort-of midway point between hell and heaven, where it’s not super bad but not great either. They end up adopting a little boy whose real parents are still alive. Yeah. Happy ending :)

tysm for asking

[she-karev]

Andrew Comforts Maya (Siblings in Law Imagine)

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: One of One

Fandom: Station 19

Canon Episode: Season 7 Episode 7

AN: Hey guys so while I did like Beckett comforting Maya after she confronted her brother, I think it would have been more meaningful if it was Andrew instead. That way even when she cut ties with one, she still has a brother on her side. It’s one of the many things they robbed us of when they killed DeLuca.

One Shot Requests?: I’m willing to take one shots of Maya and Carina and more of Andrew and Maya being siblings.

Summary: After confronting her brother Maya Bishop goes to the hospital to look for Carina but runs into her brother-in-law Andrew DeLuca instead who helps her with her hormone shots and she tells him about Mason.

Words: 1168

After his lap chole Andrew walks down the hall heading to the ICU to check on Dorian when he spots his sister-in-law, Maya Bishop yelling at Jules Millin in the lobby who looks scared. He knows how scary Maya can get and with a batch of hormones in her system for egg retrieval it’s like being face to face with a lion after poking it with a stick and stealing it’s food. Andrew quickly heads over to defuse the situation.

“Look can you just find her please? Is that so freaking hard to do around here? Are you interns really as useless as my wife and sister-in-law make you out to be?”

Jules clears her throat, “Um Mrs. DeLuca I’m sorry but your wife isn’t responding to her calls so she must be in surgery. I’m just a messenger.”

Maya looks even more angry with a vein popping out of her forehead, “You know what the famous quote is on what happens to messengers don’t you?”

Andrew faces Maya with scared but pleasant smile, “Hey Maya why don’t we take a walk and you can tell me why it’s so urgent to see Carina while Millin gets back to work, what do you say?”

Maya inhales and exhales sharply, “Fine as long as somebody here is useful!” Andrew leads Maya down the hall away from Millin and cuts to the chase.

“I gotta be honest I didn’t think anybody except Amber could get Millin to pee her pants, but I guess you proved me wrong.”

“Where the hell is Carina?” Maya asks DeLuca impatiently.

“She’s at the mediation with the lady who’s suing her.” Maya groans, “Didn’t she tell you?”

Maya pinches the bridge of her nose, “She did I just had a long day and ran into someone who made me feel worse than I normally do since I started treatment. I forgot about the meeting and now I am here looking for my wife who’s not even here that is fan freaking tastic Bishop!” Maya yells out the last part causing a few workers to stare at them.

Andrew speaks in a calm voice, “Okay what’s up? What do you need?”

Maya groans, “I need to inject my HCG trigger shots in.” Maya checks her watch, “Ten minutes otherwise my eggs won’t be mature enough to be retrieved and my wife won’t get pregnant and will hate me for not giving her a baby she and I so desperately want. I’m trying to find Carina to inject them because only drug addicts and diabetics are used to injecting themselves and I realized this while I was driving home after my inspections so-”

“Okay, okay it’s fine it’ll be fine.” Andrew leads her into the attendings lounge, “We’ll just do the shots here, I’ll help you. It’ll be quick and easy, give me the stuff.” Maya hands him the med pouch that he sets on the table, “And as thanks you can name your future kid after me, Andrew works for a boy or my given name Andrea in case it’s a girl.” He walks over to the sink to wash his hands, “Lift up your shirt for me.”

Maya does so and waits for Andrew to finish scrubbing and putting nylon gloves on from the pantry. He walks over and rips open the alcohol rub wipe when Maya confesses to him in a small and broken voice, “I found my uh…my brother.”

Andrew keeps his shock to himself and sighs in sadness for Maya. He knows the story about how Maya recently saw her brother Mason as one of the hate group protestors during the pride parade. When Carina told him he was shocked someone could be so hateful towards his own sister. When he found out Carina was bisexual, he supported her, the only thing that bothered him was she constantly slept with his ex-girlfriends. But even then, he would never in a million years imagine yelling vicious words at her while she celebrated who she was.

He can see the impact it has on Maya as her anger shifts to that of despair causing him anguish seeing her in pain, “I’m sorry.”

Maya sniffles while Andrew sterilizes her lower abdomen for the shot, “He’s so hateful. I thought-I thought a little piece of him was still left but he’s gone. When I talked to him it wasn’t until later that I realized…I realized I was talking to our father. I didn’t know until today that he became him, just full of hate and anger.” Andrew looks at her in sympathy and turns to fill the injections from the vials, “Oh my god I cut him off. How could I do that?”

“Maya-”

Maya cries, “I’m a horrible person. I left him with our father and now he’s like this because of me.”

“You were kids.” Her brother-in-law states factly, “You two were kids trying to survive a father who made you feel you had to compete for his love. He did that to your brother you didn’t so don’t blame yourself if Mason chose a different path that pushed the people who love him away.” Maya sniffles still crying, “You did what you had to do, not just for you but for your baby. He would have bullied that little boy just like your dad bullied him, you did what you had to do to protect your family. Don’t ever feel bad about that or apologize for it. It’s like with me and my dad I knew there was nothing I could do to make him better so I let him walk away. And when I got sick…I vowed that I wouldn’t force my kids to do that with me. I take my meds and I go to therapy; I do that every day, so my daughter doesn’t get a fraction of what my dad did to me. I had to end the cycle and so did you. It’s horrible and you’ll feel awful but it’s better than opening yourself up to that pain you worked so hard to overcome. Even if you cut off one brother, you’ll still have me. I mean I think I’m a pretty good consolation prize.”

Maya looks up grateful for having him, “Thank you…and for the record you are nobody’s consolation prize.”

“Thanks.” Andrew taps the needle and leans down to Bishop’s stomach, “Ready?”

Maya is still lifting her shirt, “Yeah.” Andrew inserts the needle causing her to groan softly.

After pushing in the hormones, he pulls the shot back and stands back up, “For whatever it’s worth, you’re already a great mom.” Maya looks up at him with red stained eyes, “Come here I got you.” He gently pulls her in for a hug that she doesn’t fight instead she wraps her arms around him and cries against his shoulder letting her grief swim out of her as her brother rubs her back and lets her break down in his arms telling her over and over ‘It’s okay’.

[diescm]

HYPERFIXATING/INFO DUMPING ON DORIANS LORE WITH THIS SONG UNDER THE CUT 🗣🗣🗣

[Tw. Cult activity, abuse, drugs, mild gore, death]

But happy ending :]

So obviously Dorian's history with quadrants has been messy as hell to be polite about it. He's never really had quite the handle on any kind of relationship At All. I mean he's abandoned as a grub by his parents in Tyranius, he gets adopted by Estele and of course she loves him like he's her flesh and blood but the only counter to her overwhelming love is Monroes overwhelming hate for having to share her mother's already shared attention.

He's been taken care of by this fushia woman, Estele, but Monroe never let's him get comfortable enough to consider himself family and Sienna doesn't do much to help because Monroe is doing the same to him and he's ACTUALLY blood related. So it's a "I would help but I don't want things to get even worse" situation. So it's a constant back and forth of "I am being provided for and I'm being taken care of and I don't lack any material things or necessities" while also "I am not wanted in this home regardless but it's not what my clown friend is going through so I should stay put"

So when he gets told if he joins The Vipers, he'll have a place where he actually Belongs and he Is Wanted- of COURSE he's going to leave. Of COURSE he is. He wants nothing more than to belong somewhere and to be protected and wanted and liked.

Obviously The Vipers will never really provide that for him, but he's already left, he can't go crawling back to the Depoti's and face Monroe. So in his desperation to have a family he's telling himself these people are just different and he's having a hard time adjusting from having all his needs met all the time to only having them met when Itward remembers to do that.

So now in the absence of security of his needs and familiarity, of COURSE he's going to latch onto Corpse once he also runs away and joins the Vipers for the Same Reasons. Of COURSE Corpse is going to let him. They're the only things that the other has that feels safe. They know each other, they KNOW they won't treat each other how others treat them, and they know that they're always going to stick together.

Before they started cycling through quadrants though Dorian already had a bad relationship with Itward- Itward saw him as an investment and expansion for The Vipers. If he gets Dorian loyal to him and he ends up being a Rainbowdrinker, he'd be one step closer to being untouchable. So Dorian, in lack of any family, in lack of being wanted, in lack of being loved, when Itward shows favor to him over other Vipers, now he's being Wanted, he's being Loved. Itward becomes an almost fully fledged father figure to him. And Itward knows this, he plays into it- but as little as he can. He does Not care for Dorian and he's waiting for him to Die so he can play savior and have him do bis bidding ad a rainbowdrinker.

By now Dorian and Corpse, two 16 year olds in a gang full of dysfunctional adults, now recognize their attachment to each other. They Need each other to survive The Vipers. But everybody around them is either in a quadrant, fucking, or fighting each other for being in a precious quadrant.

So now they become Red, cause neither of them can recognize that what they're feeling is familial love, the want and need to protect each other because they're all the other has. All they know is that they love each other more than Moirails are supposed to. But they were uncomfortable doing anything major as matesprits, so they broke up but they didn't hate each other, so they become moirails.

And it flips back and forth like that while they're simultaneously now being introduced to drugs and violence. Dorian is eager to please Itward while Corpse gets addicted to cocaine, alcohol and sopor, Dorian gets hooked on the same but he doesn't get it as often because Itward doesn't let The Vipers sell to him since he's his prized lamb. Dorian is in a loop of binging and withdrawl monthly, his relationship with Corpse is deteriorating while he buys more and more into Viper propaganda.

This is when Carlah joins. Who is ALSO looking for a place where she can belong and EXIST without being constantly reminded that her caste will get her killed. She had that kind of sanctuary with Dallas, but he never would have let her join The Blades and he was just Gone for a year already.

Carlah fills the void that Dorian is leaving in Corpse, they get along great, and they seek comfort in each other the more that they get dragged along and abused by Itward. Carlah is turned into a savage dog who's only purpose is to kill, Corpse is losing the only two people he's ever felt loved by. Corpse and Dorian break up, Corpse suggests a moirailligence with Carlah. She refuses because she "isn't going to be another dorian" to him. She recognizes that she's being used by Itward, she will not let herself be used by someone else she's supposed to trust, but they're still each other's safe space and their relationship actually becomes even stronger without the label of a quadrant.

Corpse and Dorian cycle though red, pale, pitch, every month or two from then on until Dorian is killed by Itward. It's MONTHS. Of Corpse being alone and surviving while Dorian is healing and resurrecting after Itward quite literally guts him like a fish and leaves him to his own devices. Carlah is getting worse by the week with Itward getting her dependent on cocaine and putting her through withdrawals so she'll be even more dependent on HIM in return.

Now suddenly Dorian is back and he's Itwards little lap dog. Hes so different. He does anything Itward tells him, he abandons Corpse frequently for Itward. He's always sick but never addresses it, his drug use is the worst it's ever been.

When Carlah leaves Corpse is empty, he goes back to Dorian for comfort but he's met with Dorian being upset he abandoned him for Carlah. Corpse resents him for abandoning him for Itward and fooling around with other guys. Which Dorian was doing so he could feel wanted again in Corpse's absence.

They become pitchmates in their mutual desperation to have a relationship again but having no idea how to make that happen.

Shortly after Carlah leaves, Itward dissapears and leaves The Vipers on Dorians shoulders, he has no fucking idea what he's doing. Every passing night his and Corpse's relationship is strained more and more, and theve settled on pitchmates for a while. When they stop in Authorius,

Oh, when they stop in Authorius.

Dorian meets Ray. And it is fucking over for Corpse. Dorian is always going to his shop to talk to him, he's getting Ray gifts, he's flirting with him, he's inviting him to stay at his hotel room- and as he's doing all of that Corpse is, once again, left to run the Vipers entirely on his own.

He could not resent Dorian more. For everything he's done in the past years, for everything he didn't do, he can't stand him but he would never forgive himself if something happened to him while he was messing with Ray so he sticks around.

By now, they've met with Carlah again, and she's working for Johlan Devira. Carlah and Corpse reconnect, she wants less than nothing to do with Dorian. Carlah, offers a moirailligence to Corpse now that she's in a better spot, and this time Corpse doesn't take it, but he thinks about it.

Soon though Corpse meets Kia. Now it's all fucking over for Dorian. It takes a few months, since they keeping coming in and out of town, but once Corpse and Kia become mates Corpse drops the Vipers and Dorian ENTIRELY.

So now Dorian is learning to actually run the Vipers alone without any support.

In that arc, he and Ray become mates, but the relationship is still strained since he's in and out of town so much. It's only when Ray gets frustrated with him that he realizes, now that he's more mature and in a much better position than before, he has to actually figure out how quadrants Really work.

And Ray means the entire world to him. He's the first Good mate he's had he's the first Good Quadrant he's had. He would kill for Ray, he would do absolutely anything for him.

Even dissolve the Vipers.

So now, Dorian and Ray are living together. But Kia and Ray are friends, so he still hears about Corpse, but he never sees him. Corpse doesn't talk about Dorian, he never talks To him, he never sees him, he never asks about him.

They have been through so much they've been through EVERYTHING together and Corpse is acting like he doesn't even EXIST. And this goes on FOR. YEARS. From Corpse AND Carlah. They both resent Dorian for what he represents, what he became, what he idolized and what he followed but he's CHANGED and they refuse to acknowledge it. He didn't go through as much as they did sure but he DIED. ITWARD KILLED HIM AND THEN LITERALLY LEFT HIM FOR DEAD IN A WAREHOUSE AND HE HAD TO STUMBLE HIS WAY BACK TO THE VIPERS IN A STARVED FRENZY. ITWARD ALSO HURT HIM.

He didn't take his horns, he didn't threaten to send him back to the church he came from, he didn't threaten to report him for mutant culling but Dorian was left just as damaged as Corpse and Carlah. It's so frustrating to see probably the ONLY people in the WORLD that can understand what you went through turn their backs on you like YOU were the one at fault.

.

.

.

But, of course, everything heals with time.

When they're ready, when they're ALL ready, they start over. They've all changed significantly, and it's time they've given themselves second chances.

Dorian and Corpse are close again, they still care deeply for each other, they ways have, but they've sworn off any Quadrants, Carlah and Corpse are thriving moirails. Dorian has reconnected with Estele and Sienna, and Monroe is doing all she can to make up for how she was when she was younger.

So, when Dorian joins the Blades.

God. When he joins The Blades.

It's everything that he was promised from The Vipers and MORE. It's an actual family, people do care for each other and look out for one another, Dallas does actually care about Dorian as a Blade and as a SON. Dorian finally feels like he BELONGS somewhere, like he's NEEDED but more importantly he's WANTED. People worry about him, they think he's fun to be around- he doesn't have to constantly cater to all of them so he doesn't get reprimanded or punished, he's loved and accepted as he is, and Dallas would never fucking kill him.

He has Everything he's ever wanted. He has a support system, he has friends, he has a mate that loves him, he has a SON. He has a DAD. HE HAS A GRANDAD THAT LOVES HIM TOO.

ABRLSHSKDBSKDJDN I LOVE HIM SO DEARLY MY LITTLE GREASER SHITHEAD I HOPE HES HAPPY FOREVER ANS EVER AND EVER

[slumpcd]

my wanted plots <3

okay under the cut i listed some plots i want + which muse of mine i would want it for. if any of these interest you, like this and i'll come to you. mwuah !

sage or jada // we are forced to go on a non-refundable holiday but we've broken up.

vera or jack // the " family means nothing " girl starts dating the " i love my family more than anything boy. " conflicting feelings and maybe the girl feels apart of something she's never seen before?

max or rowan // one muse with a bright clear future, who wants nothing more than to achieve their dreams falls in love with a muse who doesn't care about anything and who has a substance addiction.

aden, aurora or kennedy // rich boy x poor girl. he sweeps her off her feet with all the things money can buy. gifts, trips and everything in between but it turns sour as soon as his parents find out they're dating. and that she isn't from the same circles. and this can totally be changed on who's rich ofc.

aden, evelyn or julian // muse a is a hitman and has been together with muse b for a year or so. everything is great until muse a gets a new assignment and finds out that muse b is their next target. what happens then??

kennedy, dorian or abam // muse a and muse b, they are fwb that has decided to keep things casual, which they both agreed on. but then boom, muse a ends up pregnant and it can only be with muse b.

niccolo, theo or flynn // muse a and muse b are best friends and maybe one or both have been harboring feelings for each other. so one night when muse a takes care of a drunken muse b ... muse b spills the truth because drunken words are sober thoughts.

niccolo, isabella or devon // a fucked up modern day marriage plot where a rival mob boss marries his daughter, muse a, off to muse b to calm the tension between the families. at first they hate each other, but once forced to live together, they start warming up to each other, too stubborn to let it show. then one night he comes back from an important deal gone wrong, his face is fucked up and he’s feverish and she takes care of him all night. abam, devon or aden // muse a is a criminal and meets muse b and they sleep together. muse b owns their drug dealer money and fuck, what are they going to do ?? muse b reaches out to muse a in a desperate attempt to get some kind of help !!

niccolo or aurora // prince charming x the peasant girl. sneaking around to see each other, him having to marry someone else etc etc.

[appendectomy]

19th century art history dashboard simulator

🎨 jameswh1stler Follow

hey guyssss some new paintings :) kinda focusing more on painting technique than message or symbolism or anything. lmk what u think

📖 ruskin1819 Follow

delete your account FLOP

🎨 jameswh1stler Follow

check your mailbox

📖 ruskin1819 Follow

IS THAT A FUCKING COURT SUMMONS??????

#WHAT THE FUCK...

1.7k notes

🫀 girlhedonism Follow

my beautiful daughters laudanum and chloral hydrate

#opium isnt a drug shes like a brother to me

2 notes

📚 sexytruecrime Follow based on your likes!

started reading conan doyle like you all suggested. anyone else getting a bit of a gay vibe from holmes and watson or is that just me

#penelope reads #serious question like im sensing tension. am i crazy

6.8k notes

🔪 jacktheripper-beatdown Follow

JACK THE RIPPER BEATDOWN - FINAL ROUND

who do you think is the TRUE identity of infamous serial killer jack the ripper? FINAL ROUND - vote now!

🖼️ camdentownmurders Follow

ohhhhh my god i hate all of you. just because sickert made paintings that were MAYBE about murder doesn't actually mean he was a murderer. fiction ≠ reality.

🫀 girlhedonism Follow

i'm voting lewis carroll anyway bc im praying on his downfall. carroll you will never be charles dickens

#polls #SICKERT SWEEP

10.3k notes

🔮 evelyndemorgan Follow

im so clearpilled its insane me and my husband regularly commune with the spirit realm if youre not on the occult wave at this point youre just ignoring the facts right in front of you

#result of an experiment #clearpilled #spiritmaxxing

14 notes

✨ lesbianbasilhallward Follow based on your likes!

my dealer: i've got some straight gas this strain is called 'the picture of dorian gray' you'll be zonked out of your gourd

me: yeah whatever. i don't feel shit

5 minutes later: dude did that painting's face just change to reflect the inner corruption of my mortal soul

my buddy Lord Henry Wotton, pacing: sybil vane is lying to us

#this came to me in a dream #oscar wilde

420 notes

🐑 holmanhunt-art Follow

thinking of displaying this at the royal academy this year. yes or no

📖 ruskin1819 Follow

you're a great painter but why did you make sylvia fucking ugly in this. serious question

🧝🏼‍♀️lizziesiddal Follow

i'm going to blow up this whole website

2.1k notes

🌿 williammorrisandco Follow

i've been getting a lot of asks recently telling me im a fake leftist bc my art is expensive and people are accusing me of catering to a bourgeois sense of materialism... you guys clearly don't care about my involvement in actual socialist causes or my contribution to marxist publications but whatever

👁️ socialism101 Follow

girl didnt friedrich thee engels literally say you were delusional. i think youre just going to have to take the L on this one

🌿 williammorrisandco Follow

at least i actually know engels??? stop replying like you actually know anything about him and focus on yourself. me and him are on good terms

👁️ socialism101 Follow

uh huh sure. so him regarding you as an impractical 'sentimental socialist' means nothing. ok then

#discourse

3.5k notes

👼🏼 williamblake69 Follow

first base philisophical debate about the industrialist scourge destroying england second base i introduce you to the polycule

#is this anything

6.9k notes

[throneofsapphics]

can i please request one where reader is rowaelins daughter and she goes out and parties with lysaedions daughter, manorians daughter and elorcans daughters? in this elorcans daughter is dating reader , they all know but help them hide,they organize a sleepover at the palace and sneak out when their parents are busy. they party all night long, going from club to club praying to all the gods that their parents don't catch them. they drink and flirt and dance until they grow bored and decide to go to a brothel for some fun. they finally leave and are met with the most scary sight ever, they freeze be they are caught by all of the parents.

all good things come to an end  

Reader (Rowaelin’s daughter) x Elorcan’s daughter 

Summary: you and your friends have a night out. 

Warnings: drinking, drug use, overprotective parents

Word Count: ~1.8k

A/N: a bit different, but still similar. thank you for the request I loved writing this! coming up with names was a struggle, but Elorcan’s daughter is Emelyn, Lysaedion’s is Brielle, and Manorian’s is Astra. 

Their parents went on the hunt. Well, the immortals were doing most of the searching. Elide and Lysandra watched in amusement. 

They knew their kids were up to something. Even though they’re of age, they couldn’t help worrying about them. Still, the mothers mostly wanted to catch them in the act. Aelin maybe to have something to hold over them - or make fun of them for. She loved a good challenge, and so far they’d done well. In a way, she was proud. The males, on the other hand, were in something of a panic. 

They were clever enough they’d never been caught, yet, each inheriting the best - or worst - of their parents. It was made tricky by Astra, Manon and Dorian’s daughter. She had inherited his magic, and used it to subtly alter their features - enough none of Orynth’s citizens would recognize the trio. Rowan figured it out when y/n came back last time - her normal Ashryver eyes hazel. They were fixed by the morning. 

“Fussy bastards,” Lysandra murmured affectionately, tugging on Aedion to get him to slow down. 

-

You spun Emelyn, your girlfriend, in a circle - the small laugh that left her brought a smile to your lips as you pulled her closer, running a thumb over her cheek. She leaned into you and pressed a light kiss to your lips. 

“Gross,” Astra hissed. 

“Don’t be jealous,” Brielle teased her. Astra had dragged her away from the male she was flirting with, one who’d bought all of them a round of drinks - a hopeful expression on his features. Like he might get very lucky tonight. 

“We’ve been here too long,” the witchling snapped back at her, eyes darting across the room. You’ve all had a feeling you’ve been hunted tonight. Astra insisted on modifying their features with each bar they went to. 

“Why are you so paranoid?” You sighed, separating yourself from her. 

“What’s the worst that can happen if they catch us?” Emelyn piggy backed. 

“Your father,” the other two said in sync. 

You ran a hand through your hair. She did have a point. Lorcan was the most likely to … overreact. Your parents were protective, but if they figured out exactly what you were up to when your friends visited, you couldn’t guarantee their reactions would be pleasant. When you and Emelyn were … “discovered,” Rowan had quickly shoved him out of the room, meanwhile your mother’s started asking when you’d be married. 

You’d stood in the garden, arms wrapped around her as you buried your face in her neck, breathing in her scent. Your thumb ran gentle strokes up and down the back of her neck. They’d approached so silently you had no chance of covering it up, “I didn’t expect this,” the Lady of Perranth’s voice hit your ears. 

“I’ve been hiding our scents.” You hedged. 

“And you give us a new look every hour.” Lysandra and Aedion’s daughter, Brielle, tagged on. You shot her a grateful look, that she was on your side for once. 

Golden eyes narrowed at you. “Let’s go.” She jerked her head towards the door. 

“Bossy.” You muttered under your breath. She was the unofficial leader of your group, even if the three of you gave her slack for it. She would either roll her eyes, or snap iron teeth at you, depending on her mood. 

“We should be afraid of your mother,” you said wryly. Emelyn’s elbow jabbed you in the side, and she shot you a look that said “don’t jinx us,” you returned with a grin you knew would irritate her. “I know where to go,” you announced. Orynth is your city. You led the way, stopping briefly for Astra’s magic to do its job and led them somewhere hopefully your parents wouldn’t recognize. 

The owner, a demi-Fae, smiled at you - undoubtedly recognizing your scent again, even if you showed up wearing various faces. “One of these days, you’ll tell me who you’re hiding from, she chuckled,” and led you inside. 

A small room in the back, a door securely locked and shielded with three layers of magic. 

“I wish I didn’t end up naked every time I shifted,” Brielle muttered - to no one in particular. 

You started re-arranging the small pipe on the table, surrounded by a few bottles of wine. You’d never pressure anyone into smoking, of course, and usually only you and the shifter indulged, the others picking up wine instead. 

“Mixing is a bad idea,” your girlfriend cautioned. 

“I’m an expert.” 

Astra snorted, rolling her eyes at you. “Say that again when I’m dragging you home.” 

“I,” you pointed a finger at her, “can drink any of you under the table.” Nobody disagreed. 

An hour later, you lay against Emelyn’s side, giggling at Brielle’s recent recounting of her latest encounter with visiting Courtier’s in Cavarre, she’d taken up her mother’s role of prowling the halls as a ghost leopard. Maybe taking a few too many liberties with her new position. 

“Do you ever want to leave?” Astra asked everyone, and the room fell quiet. 

“Sometimes,” you admitted. You weren’t first in line to the throne, thankfully. Emelyn ran a hand through your hair, combing out the slightly tangled strands. The two of you spoke extensively about traveling - leaving Terrasen to see other places. 

“Where would you go?” 

“The southern continent,” your answer was automatic. If you could convince the King and Queen to agree to a trip. Well, the bigger issue was convincing the Lady and Lord of Perranth to let you take Emelyn. You glanced at the clock. It was nearly three in the morning. 

“We should head back.” You stood, swaying slightly on your feet. 

“For gods-sake,” Astra muttered - not at the thought of leaving, but at your current state. You knew an alcohol flush was over your cheeks - and likely your eyes slightly red, pupils dilated. There wouldn’t be any hiding that, but hopefully everyone else was asleep when you got back. 

Emelyn grabbed your hand, leading you out the door. You called out some thanks to the owner, slipping her another few silver marks. She winked at you, wishing you a safe walk home. 

-

Tracking you had failed, again. Rowan was caught between being impressed and pissed off. Lorcan and Aedion were stewing, Aelin and the other females seemed more amused, insisting they could take care of themselves. Elide yawned, but they’d insisted on staying awake to see them home. Actually - to catch them at the gates. 

With a flash of white light, he shifted, taking in the air to circle around and search for four females stumbling back to the castle. Finally, he spotted a group - heading towards a smaller side gate, all of them supporting each other. The group paused, one - Astra, using some sort of magic. He was right - about you all changing your appearances. 

-

Astra spotted them first, a string of very creative curses leaving her. “It’s too late to turn back.” She muttered. “Act normal.” She snapped at you, and you tried to straighten yourself. It should be fine. Should be. 

“They all came,” Emelyn whispered softly. “Are you sure we can’t turn around?” 

“It’ll be fine.” Brielle said, fake confidence edging into her as she straightened her shoulders. “We haven’t done anything illegal.” 

“Only mildly.” 

“You’re telling us this now?” Her eyebrows raised, voice rising. 

“Quiet, don’t pretend you didn’t know.” you tried to hush her and turned to the others. “There’s no law saying it’s legal but there’s none forbidding it.” An exaggerated groan left her. “I’ll take the blame.” 

“Yes you will.” Astra snarled and grabbed your arm, keeping you firmly upright. 

“Wouldn’t it be better if Emelyn held me up?” You turned to look at her, the world slowing down as your vision blurred. The female in question was currently propped up against Brielle. You swallowed your fear, and kept heading towards the castle gates, Astra catching you each time you tripped against a small stone or crevice in the path. Maybe you'd smooth this walkway out tomorrow. 

The Queen of Terrasen watched you approach, eyes identical to yours dancing, even if her arms were crossed. Your father looked decidedly less amused. His eyes tracked the entire group, stopping on Emelyn. 

“Your eyes are the wrong color.” He deadpanned, and you snapped your head towards her, swaying slightly. They were. Still dark blue instead of their normal Onyx. Astra hissed under her breath, probably taking it as a personal insult. Emelyn only gave a sweet smile. 

“I’m trying out a new look.” 

Lorcan, apparently, was fed up because he strode towards her, the rest of you shifting out of his way, as he tossed her over his shoulder and stalked back to the castle. You watched her pound against his back, calling him an overstepping bastard and many other things you’d never say to his face. Out of self-preservation. 

“I’ll have words with you tomorrow.” His head snapped over his shoulder, glaring at you. 

Aelin stepped in front of you, returning his nasty look. “You will not.” His eyes rolled, and he kept walking, probably cursing your name the entire time. Elide mouthed sorry, and took off after him - yelling for him to slow the hell down. 

Dorian snorted, eyeing the three of you left. “I’ve done worse.” He admitted. You fought the smile creeping on your lips - you could always count on him, or Fenrys when he was present, to de-escalate. “Impressive with your magic,” he admitted to his daughter. She shot him a smile - one that definitely didn’t come from her mother, in return. “And yours.” He turned to you. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” You tried to say innocently - words all slurring together. 

Your father let out a sharp exhale, and your mother took you off of Astra’s hands, giving thanks to her. “Just because you’re not first in line …” 

“Rowan shut up.” Aelin snapped. “That can wait. She won’t remember it now.” 

“Yes I will,” you insisted. 

“At least two of you are responsible.” Aedion muttered. His wife elbowed him sharply and he winced. 

“Rude,” you frowned at him. 

“Go inside.” Manon snapped. You were surprised she hadn’t spoken yet. 

“You don’t give me orders.” Aelin countered. Aedion, rightfully, had an alarmed glance on his face. 

“I think I’m going to-” you mimed throwing up. Rowan almost looked like he would call your bullshit,  but realized what you were doing. 

After you’d gotten inside, your mother out of earshot, he spoke to you, “you’re lucky I hid your scents. Lorcan won’t be out for blood.” 

Gods, you hadn’t thought of that. “It was only me and …” 

“Don’t tell me.” He interrupted. 

Fair enough. He steered you towards your room, making sure you actually got inside. “I don’t need you fussing.” 

“Would you rather your mother come in here?” 

“No. Nope. No.” You quickly said, heading towards your bathing room. Maybe you’d burn your clothes - hide the evidence for now.

[teecupangel]

I keep seeing this floating around and I keep thinking of Desmond and his ancestors getting drug into the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.

First off Captain Nemo showing Connor how to pilot his huge ass submarine. Aaaaand also Ezio and Tom Sawyer both endlessly flirting with Mina Harker.

I dunno. Altaïr might chill with Dr. Jekyll.

I think Desmond would be the first to catch on to Dorian Gray, or maybe Altaïr.

Either way Moriarty gives off Templar vibes and I don't think that is something that must be explained.

(also bonus Frye Twins content? They seem very likely to be involved there)

I’m going to be honest, I barely remember the movie and it’s been so long since I read the comics so I am working with what I can remember XD

Since you added Dorian Gray, I will assume that this is more in line with the movie than the comics.

For this one, Desmond and his three main ancestors get transported into the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen and they assumed they had just been transported into another time until they start realizing that, given the year, there should be information about the British Brotherhood but there’s nothing.

There wasn’t even any information about the Kenway bloodline and a quick stop to Italy would show that there are no evidence of the Auditore family and the Assassins tombs never existed at all.

It is during this time that they are approached by a man who only goes by the name ‘Bond’ who recruits them into becoming part of a league of ‘extraordinary’ people.

Bond says that his ‘employers’ have been keeping an eye on them and found them a good fit. (Mainly because of their capabilities as Assassins, especially the Eagle Vision).

They’re introduced to Quartermain who is noted to be the ‘leader’ of the group and Tom Sawyer, his… protege? Assistant? They weren’t clear. All they said was that Tom Sawyer is part of the group.

In this one, Ratonhnhaké:ton would definitely try to learn how to pilot Captain Nemo’s submarine and Captain Nemo would be more than happy to try and teach him, enjoying the young man’s enthusiasm.

Ezio would be more on the side of just casually flirting with Mina Harker as a way to get more information about her and this league of theirs. She knows this and response in kind because she tells him that they (Ezio and the others) ‘smell’ different. (We can also push for the idea that Jonathan Harker’s death still haunts Mina and Ezio can related to that, being reminded by Cristina’s own death).

Desmond though would be more inclined to talk to Dr Jekyll because of the whole two personalities in one body situation. Dr Jekyll would feel a kindred spirit with Desmond but also tell him that he will never understand the horror that the doctor is going through because Desmond accepted his Bleeding Effect and even embraced it while Dr Jekyll is stuck in hell, trying to wrestle control from his ‘other self’. Whether this turns into a bromance or a romance is up to you.

Altaïr would be the one to catch on to Dorian Gray, mostly because the four of them decided to divide and conquer to get more information about this world and talking to Quartermain is both informative but also a bit too bland so Altaïr sometimes talk to Dorian Gray. He doesn’t know his story (no one does because Desmond didn’t really read the classics but he did watch Invisible Man XD)

Speaking of which… they can all see the Invisible Man using their Eagle Vision. That’s why none of them suspect the Invisible Man when things started heating up.

‘M’ definitely gave Templar vibes and the twist can be that he is part of the Templar Order back in their own world, having changed places with the original Moriarty when he fell from the top of Reichenbach Falls. He actually transmigrated to the dead body of Moriarty and took his place.

And he held the other Assassins (Edward, Arno, Jacob and Evie) in some kind of stasis in his secret headquarters because the ‘smell’ Mina talked about it actually the otherwordly energy their bodies give off. They’re the perfect batteries to use for WMD that Moriarty had been developing in secret and it’s up to the League and the Brotherhood to stop him.

This would probably end with the Assassins leaving the Brotherhood to form… well… the Brotherhood while helping the imprisoned Assassins get back on their feet. Also, they haven’t found out how they were getting ‘sent’ in this world and that would be their priority, ending this more on the side of the League and the Brotherhood having a tentative alliance.