#lostinangela

[jawsandbones]

"I think you're very beautiful/handsome" for mahariel and zevran? 👀

“I think you are very beautiful,”he tells her and she rolls her eyes. She pulls the arrow from the darkspawn,swipes at the blood on her cheek. Onto the next body, and the next, collectingarrow after arrow. She never lets anything go to waste.

“I think you are very beautiful,”he says as they fight side by side, as she drags the dagger across the bandit’sthroat. She growls something he cannot hear, kicks away the next who dareapproach her. It earns him a hard punch in the arm, and Zevran does not missthe way the tips of her ears turn red.

“I think you are very beautiful,”he says after the mages leave, as they stand in that almost empty tower. Thetwisted form of Uldred lies defeated, and the Litany of Adralla falls from herhand. She shakes her head at him, follows after Irving.

“I think you are very beautiful,”he smiles over the campfire, and Mahariel almost chokes mid-bite. Coughing andpounding at her chest, swallowing the last of the stew. The fork smacksharmlessly off his chest after she throws it.

“I think you are very beautiful,”he shouts up to her as her leg dangles off the branch, as she sits high up inthe tree. The acorn comes down swiftly, and then another, and another. Hislaughter echoes through the Brecilian Forest as he flees her assault.

“I think you are very beautiful,”he murmurs as she cries, as he wipes the tears from her cheek. Eyes red-rimmed,cheeks splotchy, hair messy and still she is so lovely. Sitting in her tent,pulling her into his arms. She hugs him desperately, buries her face in thecrook of his neck.

“I think you are very beautiful,”Zevran says to her as they stand in the arena. She throws her head back andbegins to laugh, as they crown her the winner of the Proving. She puts her handon his shoulder, knocks her forehead against his.

“I think you are very beautiful,”he leans over to whisper it in her ear. The smirk appears for only a momentbefore it’s gone, before she casts him a side-eyed glance. The court is stillspeaking, arguing, deciding manners of kings and queens. Her hands were linkedbehind her back, but one slips loose, tangles in his.

“I think you are very beautiful,”he groans as his hands hold to her hips. Mahariel’s hands press against hischest, the braid slips over her shoulder. He pushes himself upwards to meether, his lips against hers, his arms around her waist. Her finger traces theshell of his ear as they move together, as she kisses him again.

He cannot find her. In the rubble of the tower,and in the streets they cheer, but here he only hears the flame. The snap andthe break, through stone and wood, until he sees it. The body of the Archdemon,dead and gone, but he cannot find her. Pushing aside a fallen beam, movingstone after stone. There’s blood on her lips, pale in her cheeks. He goes tohis knees, takes her in his arms. Her eyes open slowly, the smile is evenslower, reaching up to twist a lock of his hair between her fingers. “I thinkyou’re very handsome,” she says and the laughter is forced out of him as hehugs her closer.  

[actualyuuri]

1 or 11 :)

11) things you said when you were drunk

“I’m sorry.”

Yuuri follows sounds of offbeat knocking to their front door, which he opens to find Victor standing there, his hair sticking up in impossible angles and the bags under his eyes deep, like ridges engraved into his skin. “Victor,” he breathes, confused.

When Victor speaks again, Yuuri understands—he’s drunk. “I’m sorry for what I… What I said,” he says slowly, as though trying hard to remember. He hiccups and with that he falls against the doorway, one palm splayed against the wood to support himself.

Tears stinging his eyes.

(There had been a fight, a day ago.)

(It hadn’t been bad, just a normal domestic dispute, but…)

“Victor,” Yuuri exhales, and takes him into his arms. “Victor, what happened?”

“I started thinking…” Victor answers, and the rest of the words are blubbery, muffled by tears and pain extruding from every syllable, like he’s putting all of his energy into hugging Yuuri and can’t be bothered to focus on words. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, please, don’t be,” he promises, and strokes his arm. “This wasn’t our first fight. What happened? We always… You know that we always figure it out, right?”

Victor takes in a shaky breath, and his words blend. “Called you. I called you. I called you and you didn’t, you never… Twice. I was going to say… I…”

Yuuri removes one arm from his back to lead him inside of the apartment and towards the bedroom. He’s trembling. His skin feels like ice to the touch. “Let’s get you into bed. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

His fiancé is silent as Yuuri helps him remove his clothes. When he’s down to his boxer briefs, he pulls back the sheets and guides him to sleep in underneath them. Yuuri slips in beside him and is met with huge, watery eyes locked intently on his own. He reaches out a hand and his fingers brush against Victor’s elbow. As soon as the contact is made, there’s a head pillowed against his chest and a body flush against his own.

He smells of alcohol and sweat, but Yuuri only holds him tighter.

“Don’t be mad at me,” Victor whispers against the fabric, and the words are so slurred that Yuuri almost can’t make them out.

(It’s a prayer, he realizes. The words aren’t meant for his ears. Aren’t meant to be heard, aren’t meant to be interpreted.)

Yuuri strokes his hair, tries to lull him to sleep. “I was, but I’d never be mad forever.”

[jawsandbones]

kiss meme: this one was hard to choose but maybe 19 with fenhawke??

“Kisses because I don’t want you to go and maybe I canconvince you to stay just a few minutes longer.” 

The time for arguing is longpast. All that time wasted with heated words, lashing tongue. Yelling untiltheir voices grew hoarse, until the anger twisted in their throats. The trucewas only reached late last night, quiet acceptance wrapped up in an embrace, intangled limbs, in reassurance and in whispered affection. Now he can onlywatch, arms crossed, as she saddles the horse. She’s tying down the bags,stalling by checking everything. A second time, a third time, until she can’tavoid it anymore and turns to face him. “I have to go,” she says. His fingersbruise into his arms, and his steps towards her are stiff and hesitant.

“You don’t have to,” he tellsher. One last plea, the only protest he has left. Her knuckles are white,holding tightly to that leather rein, and she has an expression he can’t place.Wistfulness, perhaps. Fenris reaches out to her, hands on her shoulders. At histouch, her expression breaks, turns to something like regret. He twists a lockof her hair between his fingers, settles his hand at the back of her neck.Closing the distance until there is no space left between them, pressing hisforehead against hers, curling fingers against her cheek.

Hawke lets the reins fall,fisting her hands into his tunic, closing her eyes as she leans against him. “Don’tgo,” he says, and all she wants to do is stay. Opening her eyes as she tiltsher face upwards, as he’s tucking hair behind her ear, as he’s tracing thelines of her face. She’s memorizing that knot between his brows, his nosebrushing against hers, the square of his jaw.

“I’m sorry,” she says, the wordsmuffled by his mouth, lips against lips, an arm slipping around her waist andholding her tightly. Her arms slip around his neck as his other makes its wayaround her, crushing her against him. The kiss is fierce and desperate, full oflonging. It isn’t a goodbye, it’s still that plea, stay, stay, stay. They can’t seem to break from it, one kiss afterthe other, his hands shaking at her waist, on her back.

It’s Hawke who breaks it, not topull away but to press closer, burying her face into the crook of his neck.Taking that one last chance to breathe him in, the warmth of him, before shecups his face in her hands, before she gives him that one last ghost of a kiss.Her hands fall to his chest, and finally she pushes away, and he takes one ofher hands in his before it has a chance to fall completely. Helping her ontothe horse, beating its hooves under her weight.

She gives him an empty smile,squeezes his hand. She presses her heel in and the horse begins to move. Herfingertips brush against his, and the distance grows too much. She leaves himstanding there, his hand still outstretched.

[actualyuuri]

fyi, I could see your new icon perfectly fine from the mobile app :D (I've checked on my computer to see if you hadn't changed it again! I think at some point last week I stopped seeing the triangle on mobile and your old icon appeared). PS: the last icon was amazing and this icon is also amazing, you can never go wrong with yuuri ♥

Ayyy that’s awesome!! :D :D And thank you so much!!! I agree – can’t go wrong with Yuuri ;)

@tangoosrue I AGREE 900%??? I MISS MY OLD ICON BUT NOW I’M LIKE HECK WELL I CAN’T GET RID OF THIS AMAZING YUURI?? There are too many Yuuris. Yet there are never enough Yuuris. It’s truly a paradox

@n-x-northwest Ahhh yes I miss it too but I think I’m starting to get used to this one!!! I also love the sigh <3 <3 <3 or should I say The Sigh™

@sarabelez Thank you!!! <3

@coachviktor Haha awwww omg I’m so glad you associate that with me <3 <3 <3 And ahhh yes Yuuri is gorgeous no matter what!! Thank you!

or did the triangle just evolve into Yuuri

@lostinangela @vityaorbust !!!! AHH I LOVE IT SO MUCH

the truth is out there

[actualyuuri]

Btw, I loved the latest chapter of IINYH! Guess you could say it was a marvel. 😏

AHHH thank you!!! hahahaha I’m glad you thought so ;)

[actualyuuri]

Hey? Maddie? You hate puns? LIAR, EXPLAIN THAT PUN YOU MADE AT ZEPH.

THAT PUN WAS COURTESY OF @gia-cometti‘s pun-loving mind

[actualyuuri]

David Tennant, Jealous!Victuuri, AMAZING FICS OMG, Katsbee Yuuri, forovnix

@forovnix & AYYYYYY DAVID TENNANT my man <3 <3 <3 And haha yessssss jealous!Victor all of these make me so happy. And ty for saying you like my fics!!!!

What are the “Top Five Things” you associate with me?

[jawsandbones]

11 🙂

I thought you didn’t want me –Fenris x Hawke <3

She is a weakness. She aches inhis bones, in his blood, hurts more than the lyrium ever could. He hates her. Heloves her so much. He hates that he loves her because he knows that he doesn’thave the right. Not after all that he has done to her. It’s only right that shewouldn’t want him. He had his chance. He let her slip away because he was weak,he was a coward, he was a fool and he was unworthy. She is too much the sun andhe belongs to the shade.

She laughs to whatever Andersis saying, elbow on the table and chin in her hands. She smiles as she listensto him speak, eyes bright, a finger tracing the rim of her mug. Anotherchuckle, both hands around the mug now, lifting it to her lips. A small traceof foam lingers on the side of her mouth, and he resists the urge to reach out,brush it away. It’s Anders who does that instead. Her back snaps straight afterhis touch, her face turning red, bringing a hand to where he had touched her.

Fenris rises from the table,leaves his own mug untouched. She doesn’t want him. This is what he thought hewanted. He thought it better if she hated him, if she stayed away. She deservedmore than what poor offerings he could give. The night is cool upon his skin,but it does not chase away the fire that coils around his chest. The burningthat tells him everything is wrong. It isn’t better. He needs her. She doesn’tneed him.

“Fenris!” He looks over hisshoulder, sees her running towards him. Away from the fires of the Hanged Man,the laughter of their friends. Towards him. He keeps walking. “Maker’s breath,Fen, wait!” Warmth on his skin as her hand finds his arm, pulls herself in. “Alwaystrying to run away from me,” she says as she smiles at him. She keeps her armlinked in his, both hands on his skin, as tight as she can get. Cheeks flushedfrom running, not because of him.

“You should go back,” he says, “theothers will miss you.”

“I’d rather be with you,” shetells him. He shakes his head, looks away from her.

“Fenris,” she says softly, “whyare you avoiding me?” He stops mid-step, on the stairs that lead to Hightown. Shelingers on the step below him, looks up at him.

“I’m not avoiding you,” hesays.

“Yes,” she says, “you are. HaveI done something wrong?”

“No. No, I – no,” he sighs. Herhand reaches for his, clumsy fingers locking together as she walks forward,keeps them on the same step.

“Tell me,” she says.

“I…” his hand squeezes hersbefore he slips out of her grip. “Perhaps another time.” He turns, resumes hiswalk. After a moment, still on the step, watching the stiff line of hisshoulders, she follows after him. She stays that one step back from him therest of the way. He stops at his mansion, looks at her. She’s standing inmoonlight, her hands clasped behind her back.

He always looks so sad. Hisbrows furrowed, a knot that lingers just there. She aches to brush it away, topress her lips against his and tell him all the things she can’t. After all, hedoesn’t want her.