oh maker look at all the beauty

No okay but guys just

Imagine a teenquisitor Mage, who has spent a good chunk of their training on the run after the war started and really doesn’t have that good a grasp of their magic, meeting Solas at Haven. Maybe during that first fight, he notices something off about their aim, or the way they hold their staff, or their stance, and he just gently corrects them, and then during the next fight they try again and take down even more demons and they just whip around and beam at him because they did it did you see?

And those gentle corrections turn into full blown lessons, and this kid is just so happy to learn because
hey my barrier is stronger now so if another rogue sneaks up behind Cassandra I can protect her, hey next time we come up against a bunch of archers I can shake the ground and mess up their aim until Bull and Blackwall can cross the distance
and maybe they mess things up sometimes but Solas never gets frustrated or impatient, he just tells them how their stance was much better or they had the perfect power behind that last spell, they just need to adjust how they swung their staff, and then they keep trying until they get it and they grin and Solas just stands there looking so fucking proud, and after the lesson he makes sure they get something to eat and gets them to warm up by the fire and tells them story after story about the Fade and the things he’s seen there.

And then sometimes at night, he finds them in the Fade (they can’t navigate well enough to find him, but he always keeps an eye on them to make sure no demons come calling) and he takes them to watch an ancient battle or to see this peaceful grove tucked away from anyone’s eyes, and they’re just so enraptured because for the first time they don’t feel like they have to be scared of magic or the Fade or spirits, that those things can be wonderful and warm and beautiful too.

And maybe after Redcliffe this kid is trying to look around the Fade to distract themselves from what they saw, and they start noticing more and more demons of fear and rage and despair, and there are so many and they’re all talking at once and oh Maker they’re right I’m going to fail everyone is going to die and it’s all my fault I wasn’t good enough

But then they remember what Solas told them, about how those things are just words, those demons are just whispering the darkest thoughts they can find but that doesn’t mean they’re real, they don’t have any special foresight into what will happen, they’re just saying whatever they can to hurt. And this scared kid, this kid who has felt afraid and alone their entire life, turns away from these demons and rounds a corner and Solas is there, and they run to him and hug him and cry and they know it’s okay, and he sends the demons scurrying with a glare. And they spend the rest of the night wandering an ancient forest and studying runes until the kid feels safe again.

And then one day they get cornered and try a spell they’ve been having trouble with and it works and they turn like they always do because I did it did you see that did you see that dad?

And when they realize what they said they’re so embarrassed and Solas doesn’t know quite what to say either, but then he can’t stop smiling when he thinks they aren’t looking because for the first time in who knows how long he feels warm inside, and all he wants to do is protect them but he knows he can’t, so he teaches them to protect themselves from the Red Templars and the giants and the bears

And it isn’t until much later that they realize he was also teaching them to protect themselves from him.

she’s… alive.

pushing herself up from the ground, she opens her eyes. she’s not in the fade, and she’s not dead - no, no, she is alive, and about as well as she can be after fighting the archdemon. her gaze flickers from the sky above her to the ground around her and she sees her staff. it is broken, now, the top hanging limply from the rest, but she laughs and reaches over to it nonetheless.

it seems like morrigan’s plan… worked.

“eden,” alistair calls, and the mage stops moving. “eden. my love. oh, maker. it worked.”

she doesn’t even hesitate before peeling herself off the broken ground and looking around madly for him.

alistair. covered in blood, with cuts all over his body, but still as beautiful and handsome as he’s always been. tears well up in her eyes and she starts running towards him - she’s limping because of a gash in her thigh, but she doesn’t care. she needs to feel him, to touch him and know that he’s real and he’s alive, too. he smiles as she approaches, and he wraps his arms around her waist and spins her around, kissing her neck and her jaw and whatever he can reach.

“alistair,” she says against his skin, squeezing her eyes shut. “you’re alive. i’m alive. we’re alive.” 

“yes, my love, we are,” he whispers back, his fingers digging into her skin through the cloth of her robe. “we are. are you alright?”

pulling away, she laughs, swiping underneath her eyes. “yes, of course i am,” she tells him. “i’m with you, aren’t i?”

“you are,” he tells her, and hugs her again, sighing like he can scarcely believe it. “you’re alive.”

you’re alive.”

we’re alive.” 

A look at lore in the Chant of Light - AKA WHY THE HECK has no one been looking at this shit!!!

As a source for lore about the nature about the dragon age world I think the chant of light is all but ignored. Part of me understands this of course. Humans were the late comers. They are plain. They do not seem to have anything special in Thedas other than their ego.

But there is no reason to try to learn everything that can be learned from every other culture and leave humans out.


World of Thedas II talks about the origin of the chant, which is huge. That the chant we have in our hands is translated from the Ciriane (ancient orlesian) that it was written in by Justinia I

Furthermore though she is credited with writing it  modern study revels the chant has a variety of inconstant styles and repetitions as well as contractions. indicating multiple different authors

It is now believed that Justinia was actually describing a much older oral tradition.

What I find most interesting of all is that there are Tevinter legal documents from as far back as -182 that make reference to “The Slave Dirge” which was apparently sung during uprisings

This means that a version of the Chant of Light was being sung by Tevinter slaves (mostly elves) before Andraste ever reached them.

Keep reading

The Proposal Part 2

Originally posted by silverhammerchick

The Proposal Part 1

Contains: Fluff, angst, cancer, annoying family members, and awkward proposals.

Based on the movie One Small Hitch

Summary: Your sister’s getting married, and you thought the worst problem you had to deal with was the ugly maid of honor dress, not the fact that your father is dying. He doesn’t want you to worry, but he tells you that his one regret was that he couldn’t see both of his daughters married. You hate to see your father unhappy, so you ask your childhood best friend Spencer Reid to fake-propose to you, just to make your father happy, unfortunately now you have to deal with the guilt of lying to your family and the stress of planning a wedding that shouldn’t even be happening! To make matters worse, you may be falling for your ‘fiancé’.


“Dad, what’s going on? I thought everything was fine?” You felt a sick feeling in your stomach, and you reached for your father’s hand.

“We were going to wait until after the wedding. We haven’t even told your sister yet.” You noticed tears in your mothers eyes as your dad spoke. He shushed her gently, taking her hand in a comforting manner. He turned to you, his eyes full of sadness.

“Honey, the cancer is back. This time… the doctors are saying it’s not going away.”

The words were still ringing in your ears. You always knew your parents would die someday, everyone will, but you just didn’t expect the man who raised you wouldn’t exist anymore. “How long?” Your voice cracked and eyes watered.

“About six months.’ You couldn’t stop the sob that escaped your mouth. Your father scooted closer to you and wrapped his arms around you, letting you sob on his chest. 'Please don’t cry. I’ve lived a full life, met your mother, had you and your sister. Granted, before I go I would’ve like to see you as happy as your sister with someone special, but at this stage in my life I couldn’t ask for anything better.”

You felt slightly upset that you had never met a special someone, but you knew the words that came from your father’s heart and weren’t meant to hurt you. After a few more minutes of crying, you felt your mother’s hand rub your back affectionately.

“Honey, why don’t you go to bed? Just in your old room. I’m sure y/s/n can wait to move you into the guesthouse with everyone else tomorrow. Hmm? I’m sure-’ she took a deep breath. 'I’m sure everything will be fine in the morning.”

(Spencer’s POV)  

Spencer had no idea what was really going on although looking at the behavior, he knew it was serious. your father’s medical problems was something you didn’t tell anyone about, it was just something you wanted to keep private.

His cellphone startled him, the ringtone echoing throughout the room. He saw Morgan’s name on screen and relaxed. “Hi Morgan.”

“Hey pretty boy. I’m assuming you landed since you answered my call. How’s …y/n? Y/n right? The childhood crush? Are you at the hotel?” Spencer smiled at the way his friend was so protective, then again, being in the type of business they were, it wasn’t uncalled for to be worried.

“The flight was okay, y/n was asleep the entire time so I’m sure she had a satisfactory time. We shared a cab to her house, but before I could leave her mother forced the cab away and told me I could stay here.”

“Sounds like what my mother would do.” Morgan chuckled. “She’s overprotective but I love her. How’s the house like?”

“I kind of like it.” Spencer smiled to himself, thinking of his mother. “I’m staying in y/n’s sister’s room since the bride and her bridesmaids are in their guesthouse.”

“Her childhood bedroom? Wow, what is it like? Pink walls, sheets, carpet, a canopy bed, stuffed animals everywhere?” Morgan teased, recalling the old room of one of his sisters.

“Uh…yeah.” Spencer winced, gently placing the stuffed animals on the ground. He jumped in alarm when he stepped on one that squeaked. “That’s about 98% true.” He mumbled, looking at his suitcase worriedly, not knowing what he was supposed to do with his clothes. He wasn’t about to open the dressers.

“You still haven’t told us much about this y/n chick, which is strange seeing as she’s one of our best friends and we haven’t even heard of her until the other day when you asked Hotchner for sometime off.”

“Us? Is there someone else-”

“Hey Junior G-man!” Garcia yelled happily, and Spencer sighed. He was sort of hoping this information would just stay between the two guys. “Tell us about her? Tell us everything!?”

“Well, she grew up on the same street as me and was sort of my protector when bullies would pick on me.’ Spencer tried to suppress a smile as the memories from his childhood vividly appeared in his head. 'She never thought I was weird. Well, she probably did, but she never treated me differently.”

“Aw!’ Garcia cooed. "Like Jenny from Forest Gump, but nothing like Jenny from Forest Gump, because in no way was she good for Forrest at all!” she huffed, he reference going completely over Spencer’s head.

“Alright, well baby-girl and I are gonna let you go. Keep us updated! We’ll see you when you get back man.” Morgan hung up and Spencer sighed tiredly, laying on the pepto colored bed, getting slightly creeped out from the posters of boy bands when you all were teenagers staring at him.

Was it too late to sleep on the couch?
(The Next Day- Your POV)

“Alright gang, once more time, from the top!” The wedding planner, Stacy, called out, a little too cheerfully. This was the 4th time everyone had practiced the wedding ceremony. Well, everyone but the best man, who still hadn’t shown up, which was really stressing your sister out.

When all of you stepped out into the hallway to once again walk down an aisle and stand for a hour, your sister’s fiancé’s phone rang, and he excused himself. So now you had to wait even longer.

Along with the bridesmaids and groomsmen, your parents, the minister, Stacy, and Spencer were all in the hall. He didn’t have to come, but he also thought it would be a little creepy to just stay at your house all by himself.

“You okay?” You mouthed once you two met each other’s eyes. He nodded, gesturing to you. You made a slicing motion across your neck, wanting to just get this thing over with.

You and Spencer started silently conversing, caught up in it so much that you didn’t notice a worried groom walking over to your sister, giving her the bad news.

“What?!” You heard your sister shriek. “He’s not coming?!” Her fiancé tried to reason with her but you began to see the bridezilla appearing. “What? What? What’s going on baby?” Your mother beckoned over to her.

“The best man just informed us that he can’t make it to the wedding! I wanted everything to be perfect!” Your sister mumbled angrily. “Now who’s y/n going to walk down with?” She pinched her forehead, sitting down in one of the isle chairs.

“Honey..” Your mother tried calming her daughter down. Her eyes landed on Spencer and you practically saw the lightbulb light up above her forehead. “Why doesn’t Spencer just fill in? Just for now, until you can figure something out.” Your sister stopped her pouting, turning to stare at the aforementioned.

“Oh! uh…yeah! Sure, anything to help y/s/n.” His eyes widened, and he popped out of his seat, running up beside you. “You don’t mind right? I mean I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable in anyway.”

“Nonsense. Anything to make the bride happy, besides, I would feel more comfortable standing next to you then some random guy I don’t even know. Calm down, you know I trust you.” Spencer’s cheeks pinked softly.

You started walking with him down the aisle and your father’s words echoed throughout your ears. It was killing you inside that you wouldn’t be able to make your father as happy as your sister made him by finding her perfect match.


The next day it was like something out of My Big Fat Greek Wedding, your entire family was getting ready at your parent’s place. All the men were getting ready in the house, the ladies in the guest house. Although it was really difficult to get ready when your mother was stopping you every 2 seconds for a photo opportunity.

You finally snuck out when your mother was looking the other way in order to grab some coffee from the house. It was 10:30 at the moment, but the wedding started at 1. You frantically searched for the coffee grounds before someone noticed you had gone missing.

“Oh, Princess, you look amazing.” Your father smiled, wheeling up behind you. “The coffee grounds are above the coffee maker.” He sat at the table, grabbing the newspaper. “Make me some while you’re at it.”

“Thanks for lying, I know I look like bait for a crocodile, and I’m not as beautiful as y/s/n. It is her wedding after all.” The coffee maker started heating up and you grabbed two mugs. “It’s like World War 3 over there.” You pointed your thumb at the guest house, shaking your head.

“This isn’t coffee.” Your father grumbled when you placed a mug of orange juice in front of him, which was better for his health. He took a sip and puckered his lips slightly. “There are doughnuts hidden in the soup cabinet, at least let me have those.” He mumbled, grabbing the newspaper.

“Bless the lord! They have nothing over there! They’re all 'we can’t eat anything because we have to fit in our dresses’. It’s ridiculous, I’m growing girl! I need something more then those disgusting candy-coated almonds for tonight.” You set down the doughnuts on the table and shoved one in your mouth.

“Wow y/n.” Shit. Of course when you shoved food in your mouth that’s when Spencer decides to come down. You forced the food down your throat, almost choking in the process. “You look beautiful.” You blushed, taking a large sip of your coffee to conceal it. In a complete suit Spencer didn’t look so bad. He looked, well he looked very dashing.

“Y/f/n! Is Y/n with you!” Your mom yelled, her high hells clinking on the wooden floors of the hallway. Your eyes widened and you bolted, mouthing a quiet, “I was never here.”

“She was just using the bathroom, she left a few minutes ago!” You heard your father yell back as you escaped out the front door. It’s too bad your father wouldn’t always be around to cover for you.


The wedding was lovely after all, even though the man who you actually had to walk down the aisle with smelled like cheese, but the vows were beautiful. Even though you gave your sister a rough time, you were glad to see her so happy.

But anyone who said you cried would get punched in the face. Because that totally didn’t happen.

Even though the wedding was held at a banquet hall, the reception was thrown in your very own backyard. The trees were decorated with yellow lights, and a wooden dance floor was in the center of the grass. The wedding cake and other various desserts rested on a table over by your wooden fence.

After realizing that you just really couldn’t dance, you decided to pig out at the dessert table, glad for the great baking skills all your aunts inherited. Cream puffs cupcakes, cookies, and the wedding cake, the top tier of which was smeared as your sister and her husband smashed into each others faces.

“How does it feel to know that the girl who once swore to love only Zack from Saved by the Bell and wore pigtails everyday is now married and about to start a family?” Spencer came up from behind you. Thank goodness you hadn’t shoved any food down your throat yet.

“It’s overwhelming.” You chuckled bitterly, tears threatening to pour down your cheeks. “Now my mother’s going to try a start setting me up.” You teased to fool yourself into calming down. Once your father was gone… your mother would be all alone, your sister probably starting to try for a child.

Spencer took your hand. “It’s not uncommon for people to get sad at weddings, usually though it’s because you’re feeling sad about being single, you’re afraid of the marriage failing, or you’re scared of losing someone you love.” You nodded, not really sure of what too say. Your eyes scanned the party, looking at everyone’s happy expressions.

You saw your father gaze at your sister with love and you felt like you were just punched in the gut. You turned back to Spencer, the heat from his hand on yours  increasing.

An idea popped in your head, and before you could think about it for another second and realize how completely and absolutely insane it was, the words, “Get down on your knees quick!” escaped from your mouth.

“W-what?” Spencer asked, surprised when your free hand shoved him down by the shoulder, making him fall in the exact position you needed him to be in. “Y/n!” He exclaimed, not knowing what was going on.

“Oh my gosh!” Your mother shrieked throughout the entire yard, making everyone turn towards you two. Spencer’s eyes bulged out of his head, and you already felt regret seeping in.

“O-oh my god!” You sounded so fake. No one would believe this. Shit. “Yes! Spencer I will marry you!” You pulled him up, drawing in him for a kiss as your family cheered in excitement.

“My friends!’ your father shouted when you two pulled apart. "I’m excited to announce that we have another wedding to plan!”


@crowleyshellhoundproductions @xinhaleredveinsx

A New Adventure

August 1th, my birthday aaaaand… my thousandth post!!! No better occasion to introduce someone new and celebrate love! I hope you’ll like this as much as I do! Hugs, beautiful people! And enjoy the fluff!

Cullen x Demetra Trevelyan, Post Trespasser

It was the voice that woke her up.

Angry, hungry and too loud for such a little body. And still, that was the most beautiful sound in all the Thedas.

Demetra smiled against her pillow, opening slowly her eyes. The dim light in the room suggested her she had been asleep for a very short time, it wasn’t night yet. Demetra’s smile became brighter, seeing her husband.

Cullen, hair dishevelled and an even bigger smile on his face, was walking carefully through their bedroom “Hush, sweetie, let mummy sleep a little more. It’s all ok, isn’t it? What about a lullaby?”

“That’d be great.” Demetra murmured, wincing a little when a light pang of pain reminded her the events of that day.

It had started a little before the sunrise and, before she could fully realize, she was sat against a mountain of pillow, Cullen grabbing her hand with one of his, and pressing a dump towel against her forehead with the other. Mia and the midwife, an old woman with a gentle smile and a strong voice, were encouraging her to breath deeply.

It had seemed hours. The pain hadn’t been intolerable, after all. She had feard a lot worse and, for sure, thanks her enemies and the Anchor, she had experimented all sort of wounds. Nevertheless, she had needed all her strength for pushing and pushing and pushing, following the midwife’s voice and her own instinct. And she was scared for her child and for Cullen and for herself. She had heard such horrible stories…

But when the moment had arrived, all her focus was for convincing the child to come in this world, Cullen’s hand in her own, giving her courage and vigour.

Keep reading

Leliana:  Herald, you’re here?  You are looking well for a supposed dead man.

Carver:  Sister Nightingale?  You’re still alive?  You look–

Carver:  *thinking*  Maker, she looks terrible!  What do I say?  

Carver:  – leathery.  B-but in a good way.  *sigh*  Fuck.

Dorian:  Oh, it makes me wonder how such a honey-tongued, discerning, young rake such as yourself is still single.  I can only imagine the hordes of willing maidens literally throwing themselves at you, all heaving bosoms and wanton abandon, as you compare their beauty to an old, worn saddle.

Wēijī [Kai]

{{ noun // lit. “crisis” or “critical moment”; from risk and opportunity, the idea that there can be a positive result in a wisely handled risk }}

Hi, your dog keeps using my doormat as a fire hydrant.

Fluff. Neighbors!AU. 1,000 words.


Mornings may quite possibly be your favorite time of the day.

There’s the sunlight filtering in through your lacy curtains, and the sweet sounds of chirping birds gently floating through your room. The bed seems the coziest and warmest at this time of day, and you’re refreshed and ready for a new day. And even better, today’s a Sunday. This means you can snuggle in your bed and sleep for a couple more hours, or you can get up, pick up the morning newspaper, and read it while eating blueberry waffles with whipped cream and maple syrup.

You choose the latter.

Wrapping the comforter around your body and sliding on your slippers, you trod down the stairs of your simple, two-story home and go into the kitchen to start breakfast. Removing the blanket and draping it on a kitchen chair, you start a pot of coffee after mixing a bowl of batter for waffles and setting it aside.  Then, you take out the bottle of maple syrup, can of whipped cream, and box of blueberries, setting the toppings on the table.

But your waffle iron is missing.

You check your cupboards and under the sink, but it’s not there. Huffing in slight annoyance, you realize you must’ve stuck it in the joint laundry and pantry room. Walking over to retrieve it, you pass the front door and stop– might as well get the morning newspaper first.

You unlock and twist the doorknob, opening the door and taking a step into the glorious sunshine.


Of course, you then remember why mornings aren’t your favorite anymore.

Because your neighbor’s dog enjoys using your doormat as a fire hydrant.

And sometimes, you forget.

Keep reading

The Proposal

The Proposal (A Xibalba and La Muerte Story)

Author’s note: This story takes place right after my other story, ‘Xibalba’s Crown’.

“Xibalba, are you planning on telling what this surprise is exactly?”

“Be patience, mi amor.  I promise you, you will not be disappointed.”

La Muerte let out a small huff, but despite feeling slightly exasperated with how mysterious her lover was being, she couldn’t help but feel curious and a little excited. Ever since they had left the Land of the Forgotten and Xibalba had mention he had a surprise for her, she had been wracking her brain to try and figure out what he could possibly have in store for her.

“Can you a least give me a clue as to what it is?” she asked after a few moments of silence.

“No,” Came his quick response, “that would spoil the surprise.”

Now she was getting annoyed. There had to be some way to get him to spill the beans. But the question is how? An idea suddenly came to her. Normally she wouldn’t resort to this tactic, but desperate times call for desperate measures. And if this didn’t work, she didn’t know what would.

The queen sauntered up to the king, her hips swaying with each step.  Xibalba instantly noticed the change in her mood and started to retreat backwards until his back came in contact with the church wall. He audibly gulped when she placed her hands on his armored chest, her full, red lips curling into a seductive smile.

“Please Balby,” La Muerte cooed, gazing up at him through half-lidded eyes. One hand trailed upwards to toy with his beard. “Just one little hint?” She leaned forward, confident that once she kissed him, he would crack.

Xibalba was a bit torn at that moment, but he knew he had to stay strong no matter what she threw at him. So he gently pressed a finger to her lips, effectively stopping her advance. “Nice try, my dear.” he complemented. “But that won’t work this time.”

She stepped back away from him, sighing in defeat. “Well, you can’t blame me for trying.”

“I don’t. I probably would have tried the same if I were you. Now…follow me.”

Xibalba disappeared in a flash of black and headed towards the roof of the church. La Muerte was quick to follow him in a shower of gold flower petals. Once they both reappeared, Xibalba turned towards her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Close your eyes, love.” When she arched an eye ridge at him, he added, “Please, dear, trust me. It’s part of the surprise.”

La Muerte nodded and let her eyes to slip shut. She felt the god move away from her and for a moment all she could hear were some crickets and some mariachi music playing somewhere in the distance. In the next moment, however, she heard voices. Although they were talking very quietly she could easily tell that one of them was Xibalba, but as for the other…she couldn’t tell. The goddess tilted her head a little to the side and tried to focus more on the second voice to see if she could identify who it was.  The other voice sounded…familiar…really familiar. In fact now that she thought about it, that sounded like-

Her thoughts were brought to halt as she felt a pair of hands grab her own, along with Xibalba’s voice saying, “Come with me, love and keep your eyes closed.”

She allowed him to guide her a little ways before he made her stop and let go of her hands once more. After a few more moments of silence, she finally asked, “Can I open my eyes now?”

“Alright, open them…now.”

La Muerte did so…and gasped in awe at the sight before her.

The entire outer edge of the balcony of the church bell tower was completely lined with candles and all over the floor were even more candles along with vases filled with marigolds.

“Oh Balby,” she couldn’t keep the wonderment out of her voice as she moved closer to him. “It’s so beautiful.”

 The king smiled, taking a hold of her hands once she was close enough. “I thought you would like it.”

“But, how did you manage all of this?”

He flashed a sheepish grin. “I did have a little help.”

She smiled knowingly. “And by help you mean the Candle Maker?” At his nod, her smile became wider. “Thank you, Xibalba. This is wonderful.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek, making his blush through his tar-like skin before she pulled back and said seemingly to the air, “And thank you as well Candle Maker.”

“You’re welcome!” The Candle Maker’s disembodied voice chirped back.

Xibalba scowled a little in the direction of the other god’s voice, but quickly brought his attention back to the goddess in front of him. “Ah, but my love, my surprise isn’t over just yet.”

“It’s not?” La Muerte said quizzically. What more could he have possibly planned?

“No, it’s not.” Xibalba gave her this tender look, squeezing her hands gently. “I still have to do…this.”

He lowered himself down on one knee, causing her eyes to widen. “Xibalba…?”

“My dearest La Muerte,” he began softly, “years ago, we met on this day and this rooftop and it was on this very same rooftop that we confessed our love to each other. And over the years we been seeing each other, I’ve come to realize…I want us to spend the rest of our eternal lives together.”

La Muerte’s heart was pounding ridiculously loud in her chest. He…he couldn’t possibly be saying what she hoped he was saying…was he?

“So I ask you…” Xibalba released one her hands and held his palm out towards her. In a small burst of green fire, a little black box appeared. He opened the lid with a finger to reveal a gold ring with flower designs etched into the band. “Will you grant me the honor and become my wife?”

In that moment, La Muerte felt like the entire world had come to a halt. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t even think as she was completely stunned at what was happening before her.

‘Xibalba…he…he just…’ Her mind was reeling. Was this all a dream?

‘No…this isn’t a dream.’ She could see the uneasiness on his face as he waited for her answer. She could feel his hand holding onto hers and the warmth of the candles all around them. It was all too vivid to be just a mere dream. ‘This is real…’

The queen brought her free hand to cover her mouth as she let out a small, choked sob, feeling the pinpricks of tears stinging her eyes.

Seeing her reaction caused Xibalba to panic. He was just about to ask her what was wrong when he heard her utter a single word. But that one single word, made him feel like he was flying higher than he had ever gone before.

“Yes.”  La Muerte nodded her head. Dropping her hand and giving him a watery smile, she repeated the word in a much louder and stronger voice. “Yes.”

She launched herself at Xibalba practically knocking him over in the process. “Oh yes, si, yes!” And then without further ado, she pulled away enough to press her lips to his.

Xibalba gladly and eagerly returned the kiss. In that moment he couldn’t be happier.

After what felt like an eternity, they finally pulled away from each other. Xibalba grabbed her left hand, plucked the ring out of the box and placed it onto her finger. La Muerte brought her hand up to examine the band, watching the way it gleamed in the candlelight.

She looked back up at Xibalba, lips curling into a warm smile. “I love you.”

The winged god smiled back, gently removing the tears from her face. “And I love you. Now and forever.”

The two immortals moved in union and kissed each other once more. It was the perfect moment until-

They suddenly heard a small sniffling noise. They broke apart and turned their heads to the side to see it was the Candle Maker with the Book of Life floating beside him.

“That was so beautiful, man. You guys are like the cutest couple ever.” The Candle Maker wiped away a few tears from his eyes. “And here I told myself I wasn’t going to cry.”

La Muerte chuckled while Xibalba rolled his eyes. They moved out of their embrace to face their fellow deity.

“Well, thank you again for all of this Candle Maker. La Muerte said sincerely. There was a pause and when she noticed Xibalba continued to say nothing, she nudged him with her elbow.

“What?” He questioned. At her pointed look, he sighed. “Oh, fine…thanks.”

The Candle Maker beamed. “No problem. Just be sure to let me know when the wedding going to be.” He added with a wink as he tucked the Book of Life under his arm. “See ya guys later!” With that the Candle Maker vanished in a flash of light.

“…Must we invite him to the wedding?” Xibalba asked with a groan.

The goddess giggled. “Now Balby,” she chided lightly. “You know as well as I do that the Candle Maker always helps officiates weddings especially since he’s the keeper of the Book of Life.”

“Yes, yes I know.” He grumbled. But that didn’t he had to like it.

She laughed again, cupping his jaw. “Oh come now, don’t be like that. This is supposes to be a happy moment.”

The god’s mood brightened instantly. “You’re happy?”

“Yes…” she gave him a quick peck on the mouth. “I’m very happy.”

“Good to hear.” He said before drawing her back into his arms. La Muerte let out another giggle before Xibalba swooped down to steal another kiss.

Author’s Notes: So here’s my follow up story. I know the candle love scene isn’t the most original thing out there, but I figured if it works for Manolo and Maria, it would work for Xibalba and La Muerte. Oh and I hope the Candle Maker isn’t too OOC. This is the first time I’ve ever written him before and he’s kind of a hard character to write. At least to me he is. I can’t believe the movie comes out tomorrow! But it stinks because I probably won’t be able to see it until maybe Sunday since I have to work Friday and Saturday. But I will see it eventually and I’m defiantly going to go see it as many times as possible while it’s out in theaters.

OLICITY AU: Cotton Candy 1/3

HELLO my Sweethearts!!! <3 Chapter 1 of my new short SWEET fanfic is up :) I hope you’ll like it!!! The next chapter will be up soon hopefully :)

- EDIT BY my new tumblr friends and a precious angel: @laurabelle2930

- EDITED BY an awesome beta and a wonderful tumblr friend:@youfixedmybrokenwings

Felicity and her 1 year old girl Abby go on vacation where they meet a handsome and funny cotton candy man who loves them both at the first sight :)



FOR MY FRIEND @miriam1779

Felicity was laying on a soft blanket, her feet were digging in the warm sand, bright sun was shining in the crystal clear, blue sky. Her baby girl was safe and sound by her side, playing with a small, plastic car. She was mostly hitting the sand with it, or she was making small holes in the sand only to put her car there and bury it under sea shells. Felicity was watching her closely, from time to time pulling the toy out of her daughter’s mouth. Abby was a sweet child, she had just turned 1 a few months ago and Felicity loved her more than anything in her life. She was a chubby ray of sunshine, sometimes Felicity wondered how such a small person could take up so much space in her heart. Abby gave Felicity her toy and stood up clumsily. She took a few steps towards the sea, her small feet awkwardly trying to fight the weird feeling of stepping on the sand.

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Someone made a GIF of me! Look at this Dudley Dursley impression (from this lil video I made ages back). My finest hour, and certainly, my most attractive facial expressions. 

I was sent this so I have no source for this little beauty, but I hope said maker won’t mind me now using my own face as a reaction GIF. Oh the joys of being mildly (read as: not at all except from y'know getting a load of hate from far right people/misogynists/MRAs) internet famous. 

Just thought I’d share it with you! It made me chuckle.