#(Golden experience healing scene) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

deluxewhump · 7 months ago

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bahkauv

cw: nonhuman whumpee, hunters of nonhumans, torture, burning as torture, fire-induced temporary blindness, mentioned digit crushing, self healing whumpee, it as a pronoun, restraints, muzzle, purchased for research

note: I've taken great liberties with this little german mythological creature. As you will see, its physical appearance is about ninety percent human in this story.

one: hunter's camp

The creature was in the worst shape Arthur had ever seen anything alive in. The fact that it looked so unnervingly human, especially from a distance, unsettled him even more.

Once they heard what it allegedly was, Stephan said it should have big paws and the short golden fur of a lion. Francis said that wasn’t right at all— it should have a human head and torso, legs like a calf with cloven hooves, and soft brown, white or black ears like a calf too… Stephan eventually elbowed Francis into silence as they approached a muddy paddock where the ill-fated things were corralled after being caught.

It was mostly vampires in the hunter’s camp. Vampires were such a problem in the region that Arthur himself had been nearly recruited as a hunter this spring past. He’d been intrigued by the commission bonuses, the idea of travel and sleeping under the stars. He’d eyed the weapons and tools the hunters wore at their belts and tucked in their boots with admiration and envy. But he’d lost his stomach for it after seeing what he would have to do to the vampires he caught.

The Bahkauv was no exception, it seemed, despite being a rarer and much more regional phenomenon, not at all the infamous menace vampires had become. In fact, it seemed to Arthur that the thing was human as it cowered in the mud, eyes tracking the hunter that circled it.

“How do they know it's a Bahkauv?” he asked aloud, not expecting his friends to have a response he didn't have himself.

Meanwhile, the hunter sloshed a bucket of thick, oily substance onto the cowering creature and struck a match.

“Oh good God,” Francis breathed beside him. All three of them were frozen in place, waiting to see if the hunter would toss the match.

He did.

The substance now covering the Bahkauv was clearly some sort of accelerant. Pitch, maybe. Immediately, the fire spread over it and leaped three feet high so the creature appeared as a burning ball, invisible inside a wall of orange flame. Though they could not see it very well, they could hear it. Its shrieks of terror turned to screams of pain— agonized and gut wrenching. Francis was gripping Arthur’s forearm without realizing he’d done so, as if to say do you see this?His mouth was open in shock at the scene before them. Arthur glanced about. Some of the people, hunters and civilians alike, had stopped to see what this particular commotion was about, but they went back to their own business once they realized. This was not out of the ordinary.

“We use the sun on the vamps,” said a hunter who had come up to the fence to watch. “Easy and extremely effective. But that thing doesn’t burn with the sun. They find drunken soldiers and latch onto them until they’re weak enough for them to attack. Vicious, thieving little creatures. And since there’s a lack of drunken soldiers wandering around alone here lately, who do you think we found this one leeching on?”

“A hunter?”

The hunter nodded. “Unwise little thing, no? Sunlight doesn’t really bother it, but we found it a similar experience…” he nodded at the twisting and writhing flame in the paddock. Whatever the substance was was finally burning off. The flames dwindled in the wet mud until they could see the creature beneath, now naked and terribly burned, but clearly alive. The screams tapered off to loud, alarming moans, separated by thin breaths drawn with great difficulty.

“Why?” asked Arthur with an incredulity he later realized must have sounded terribly naive to a hunter.

The hunter looked at him, deciding how to answer. In the end he just laughed, and clapped Arthur on the shoulder before wandering away toward the north side of the encampment.

The one in the ring, dressed identically to the one Arthur had just spoken to, approached the Bahkauv. Arthur was now convinced it was not human after all, or it would not have survived that sustained heat for so long, with no oxygen to breathe. Right? Surely.

The hunter watched the thing struggling to breathe for a moment, tilted his head and toed it in the ribs with his boot. It shrieked in pain, eyes blind and white, blood and saliva dripping from its open mouth, its burned lips. The hunter seemed to consider the condition of the skin, which looked from a distance as though it was already changing from charred to red, from red to pink.

“Is it healing?” Stephan asked in a low voice. He was not sure he wanted to know.

“So quickly,” Francis muttered, his forehead deeply creased in distress. Even so, Francis could not help but watch. Arthur knew he was sharply observing, forming questions. His curious mind would not allow him to look away.

Arthur, by no means a scientist or a scholar, wondered why it was he couldn’t stop looking. The hunter splashed more of the pitch-like substance onto the creature, who howled and threw up its hands protectively, uselessly, against the second lit match that was coming.

“No,” Stephan exhaled in disbelief. “So soon?”

The flames flew to the accelerant faster than their eyes could follow, and the screams began in earnest again, filling the paddock. Arthur winced and looked away.

“I need it,” Francis said, nodding emphatically. “Not a vampire. I need to take that to the University. Why study what everyone else is studying? Sure they’re rare, but that means my research would be rare, too. Possibly unique.”

“You don’t know what it’s capable of,” Stephan cautioned.

“It likes to eat drunken soldiers, for God's sake," Francis argued to the backdrop of horrific wailing. “It will be tied up and muzzled, if we have to. And it's so... pathetic. Look at it."

Arthur and Stephan did. The flames had burned off again. The unfortunate creature was attempting to crawl away from the hunter, who was following it slowly.

“It’s probably less dangerous than a vampire anyway. And it can move in the sunlight without being carried or making a scene.” Francis looked to them for support. Nearby, a shrieking vampire was being dragged into the sunlight.

“This place is making me a bit ill,” Stephan said.

"I did warn you both." Arthur turned to Francis. “If you really think it’s a good idea, I’ll bargain for you. You’re too excited about it. They’ll realize they can rip you off.”

—

The Bahkauv was badly burned. This was nothing new, but each time was its own unending Hell. Every inch was agony as it crawled, blindly, across the paddock. The cool mud might have been a relief but for the way it sucked at the skin of its hands and knees, taking much of the ruined flesh with it as it made each slow inch of progress. It didn’t know where it was going. It only knew that staying put would mean more pain, and it could not tolerate any more pain. It was stripped to its barest instincts, and its instinct was to get away.

Dimly, it remembered the hunters didn’t like when it tried to get away from them, even just a few feet to curl up in a corner or against a fence. They’d stake it in place with one of their sharp vampire-sticks, through its hand or the tendons of its foot, grounding it in place to torment until it was mindless, incoherent and screeching like an animal.

Its melted sight began to come back, and it could see the blurry outline of men’s legs standing in front of it. It stopped crawling, paralyzed in fear. It could do nothing but lie on the ground and pant, throat and lungs burned from inhaling fire, but unable to die, just like the vampires in the sun.

A heavy collar was fitted around its neck like a yoke, and someone was yanking it roughly to a standing position. The Bahkauv shook so badly from the recent pain of burning that it collapsed once, twice. It cringed deeply as the hunter who held the leash backhanded its burnt cheek. “Up,” he hissed. “Do you want another round as a parting gift?”

“It’s fine,” said a new man's voice. “Enough. Enough. Here.”

Through slowly improving vision, it saw its leash change hands. It was not prepared to look anyone in the eye, even once it could see well enough to distinguish faces again.

It kept its eyes down, trembling violently as ropes were wrapped around its wrists and then looped through the collar so its hands had to stay crossed near its chest. A leather and iron muzzle was fitted over its head and tightened around the back of its neck. The sharp bit went to right the back of its throat, almost far enough to make it gag. The sides bit into the burnt flesh of its face. Once, it would have been ashamed of how it drooled pinkish foam in front of all these humans. Now it neither knew or remembered shame when the threat of more pain was present, which was always.

A man was picking it up. It hurt terribly, but all the Bahkauv dared to do was whimper through frantically grit teeth. Another pair of hands went under its armpits and hauled it higher, up and into the saddle of a chestnut horse. Each point of contact from the saddle was fresh pain, burnt skin and nightmarish friction. It tried to sit up on its own for as long as it could, but lacked the strength. Once the horse began walking in the direction of the road, it had no choice but to slump weakly against the chest of the man sitting directly behind it and holding the reins.

It received no punishment, except for the way the man's rough clothes touched its skin. As the Bahkauv's sight returned to normal, it looked about to see two more men on horses of their own. Its healing skin itched and burned, but all it could do was twitch helplessly and watch the horse’s bobbing mane in front of it, or the leafy spring forest pass on either side. It shivered intermittently.

"Give it a blanket, Francis," one of the men said.

"Won't that hurt it? Its skin still shines like a burn."

"Remarkable how minor a burn it looks already though," said the man behind it in the saddle. "Considering."

The human voice, so close it could feel the vibration from it in its back, set it to trembling again.

Exhaustion from the days torture soon set in, and it fell into bouts of unconsciousness that only resembled sleep. It woke from one such period of dreamlessness with a startled flinch, unsure where it was or what was happening. The man he was riding with had his arm around its waist, anchoring it so it did not slump to either side and fall from the horse.

Dread and fear pooled in the Bahkauv’s stomach at the human contact, a large gloved hand splayed across its naked belly. Humans were cunning and cruel. They loved fire and tools, like the metal ones they used to crush its fingers and toes in the evenings when the sun was down and the screams of the vampires had quieted.

It felt one of the others’ gaze on it and turned its foolish head, accidentally locking eyes with one of the men it was now traveling with. He was young, dressed in a jacket of dark green wool. He reminded the Bahkauv of the new recruits the hunters would bring in now and then, to see what they had the stomach for. Heart pounding, it looked away, and did not dare lift its eyes again until nightfall prompted the men to stop and make camp.

#whump #nonhuman whumpee #burning cw #torture cw #it as a pronoun cw #inspired by ash and callum #first story i ever read here #muzzle #the next part is short and bittersweet #captivity

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bayfuzzball7050 · 1 month ago

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My favourite jjba character(s) from each part bc I know it will be more appreciated here than in a Reddit thread

I’ll use this header from now on to yap

Phantom Blood: Speedwagon. Regardless if it’s a whole meme in the community, o genuinely think it’s very brave of him to follow along in an adventure where everyone has powers but he doesn’t. He just raw dog’s every supernatural event and tries his best to be useful. It’s a noble thing.

Battle Tendency: Definitely Caesar Zeppeli. A much more complex and interesting character than his predecessor (William Zeppeli, I mean). I loved his design, personality and charisma regardless if I couldn’t resonate at all with his backstory. I also really enjoyed his rivalry/friendship with Joseph. I’ve always loved the smart/snarky guy x himbo dynamic!

Stardust Crusaders: I love kakyoin with all my heart and soul and I will never shut up about it. I resonated deeply with him since I know personally what it is like to be alone. I like how Araki portrayed his loneliness in a ‘im different than everyone I know’ way where he couldn’t relate to people the way others that. That childhood monologue— god! It hit so, so close to home. I couldn’t help but cry when the scene came up. That is when I realized how much the crusaders mattered to him. A bunch of people ‘like him’ and it’s such a sacred feeling when you’ve been feeling ‘off’ all your life. I also like that he’s always giving little fun facts he’s a bit like yapdollar

Diamond Is Unbreakable: Okuyasu. No question needed. Unlike his brother, Okuyasu is a very kind soul that has never killed anyone (at least on screen) even when he has endured so much abuse from his brother and father alike, something that would ‘justify it’ if he did became an evil character. He stopped looking for a way to kill his father because he can see the good in people and ‘accept them for who they are’. I can’t help but feel a deep sympathy for him. He had taken what his brother had told him about being better off dead so personally to the point where his first question after being healed by Josuke was (paraphrasing bc I don’t remember well) was something like “why did you save me when it would’ve been easier to let me die?”. Josuke came just in time to make him realize how much he actually mattered so he could evolve into the little goofball we all know and love.

Golden Wind: Giorno. I think most people who call him a ‘boring’ or ‘plain’ character often seem to forget that, of course, Giorno will not be a charismatic, sociable, talkative, — joseph — kind of guy. He was severely emotionally and physically neglected in his childhood to the point where showing emotions became useless since he knew he’d be left shaking in his craddle. From this emotional neglect, he started looking up at a gangster as some sort of parental figure. Someone who showed him basic human decency. Later, we get to see his ingenuity in battle. But I think one of the reasons he was so clever in life or death situations was because he has been in a ‘fight or flight’ mode since a very young age. He isn’t even ‘bottling up’ his emotions, he had repressed them deeply inside his brain to survive.

Stone Ocean: The main three. But mainly Foo Fighters bc they’re so silly >_< and I can’t begin to imagine how marvellous it has to be to, one day, become a sentient being

Steel Ball Run: I can’t quite decide between Gyro and Johnny tbh. Johnny is a character who had been always pampered with his ‘rich life’ and was then shocked with the fact that once you’re not useful, or worse, become inconvenient for people, they stop caring about you. I often think about how bad his father was with him, not only rubbing Nicholas’ death all over his face rather often, the whole “God, you took the wrong son” page or just how he never went by to visit him when he had just gotten crippled. It was just plain cruel. Also when they followed Hot Pants to a church and Johnny had to relive some of his most traumatic life experiences again and still try to win. It was one of the best arcs in sbr imo.

Gyro, on another note, wasn’t a son of a wealthy family but had to carry the weight of generations and generations of knowledge on top of the family profession on his shoulders, having to execute a child. He’s also a silly goofball with his jokes that make little to no sense and him trying to explain the spin to johnny in life or death situations always has me cackling up ngl.

Jojolion: I haven’t started to read JOJOLION, but from what I’ve seen, Gappy seems to be a silly goofball who lacks direction and I love that in a man. Also that he’s a 2 x 1 combo, literally.

Jojolands: I haven’t read jojolands either, but good lord they sold me Dragona and Paco when I heard ‘transgender’ and ‘laburantes’. Plus everyone from the Jodio team also seems to be lacking direction and being a pinch silly

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a-court-of-fics-and-errors · 4 months ago

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Keep Moving Forwards, Part 43

Azriel x Reader Fic

Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.

Find other parts here: Master List

To follow this fic, follow tag "Keep Moving Forwards Fic" or comment to be tagged in future parts.

Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, detailed descriptions of direct physical abuse, and scenes of men hunting women with implied sexual assault. Please read at your own risk.

Word Count: 4.4K

Author's Note: This is a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.

Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.

The Townhouse was enveloped in a tranquil stillness. Seated at the elegant dining room table, you were surrounded by scattered papers and blueprints of grandiose city plans. Maps of once-glorious buildings, now fallen into decay, lay alongside deeds, titles, and contract agreements waiting to be scrutinized. Despite the overwhelming workload that would keep you occupied well into the evening, the peacefulness was a comforting companion. You had been sitting for so long that your hips now protested with a persistent ache, and the ice in your tea had long since melted, diluting the bright golden liquid into a murky brown. Frustrated, you leaned back in your chair and ran a hand through your hair, causing your meticulously drawn notes and diagrams on the map to scatter and fall to the floor. None of it seemed to make sense - there simply wasn't enough space in any of the buildings on your list to accommodate all the families in need of housing. With a resigned sigh, you closed your eyes and reclined against the intricately carved wooden back of the chair, feeling the strain on your neck begin to ease.

The creaky metal of the mail slot clanged open, its rusty hinges protesting. Letters cascaded down onto the foyer carpet with a soft thud, and then the slot shut again with a metallic clang. Your head tilted to the side. From your vantage point in the dining room, you could see through the open door to the hallway, where an array of papers lay scattered on the floor. You stretched your arms high above your head, feeling your spine crackle as you arched left and right in an effort to loosen your stiffening joints. With a push against the table, you rose up and twisted your neck, trying to release any remaining tension. As you made your way towards the hallway, your bare feet sunk into the soft, plush rugs that lined the floors of the Townhouse. Leaning down, you picked up the pile of mail and began to sift through it. Letter after letter addressed to you from various Pleasure Maker’s applying for support and accommodation. Each one elicited a mixture of both excitement and trepidation.

As you sorted through the stack of letters, one caught your eye with its pristine appearance. The envelope gleamed in the light, adorned with a single golden maple leaf wax stamp in the corner. Your name was elegantly written in thin, flowing handwriting. Intrigued, you furrowed your brow as you gathered the other letters in your arm and reached for this one. Sliding a finger under the flap, you carefully pulled out the contents written on delicate paper with the same thin pen.

My esteemed daughter,

I extend my well wishes to you, though I pen this letter with a perhaps unpleasant request. It has been brought to my attention by Caelum, a distinguished male of the Night Court, that you and he are mated. Your impeccable taste has not gone unnoticed and I would like to congratulate you on finding yourself mated to someone of such strength and charm. It is expected that your union with Caelum will produce many wonderful heirs for our Court.

However, it seems that there has been a misunderstanding, leading you to purposely avoid his presence. While I trust that this is simply an oversight on your part, I must insist that you return to your rightful place at the Autumn Court immediately. Not only does Caelum grieve over your absence, but as your father and nobility within the court, I cannot tolerate any deviation from the path set by the Mother for our people.

Nevertheless, I hold no ill will towards you for any perceived misstep, and I am committed to rectifying the situation. I am aware that your upbringing has not been within the walls of the Court, but being young and undeniably influenced by your past experiences, I cannot hold you entirely accountable for your actions. However, it is now time to rectify this mistake.

Do keep me informed of your plans, though they should involve returning to fulfill your duties as an heir to our esteemed court and future mother of heirs. Your compliance in this matter is non-negotiable.

Awaiting your swift return,

Your Father, Philip Vanserra

Your hands shook uncontrollably as you read and reread the letter, your heartbeat quickening with each passing moment. Your blood boiled with anger and fear as you struggled to calm your trembling lips. How could Caelum know about Philip? Had you been too careless lately in keeping your walls against Caelum up? What other details did he know? The thought sent shivers down your spine. And now, Caelum was using it against you in a twisted attempt to lure you back home. You felt bile rise in your throat at the mere idea of it. There was no way you would fulfill his request, but even worse, there was no telling what lengths Philip would go to in order to make you comply. You frantically checked the clock, knowing that Azriel would be home soon. But the thought of being alone with your racing thoughts for even a few more hours made you want to scream.

You were practically tripping over yourself as you descended the steps of the Townhouse in haste. Your feet hitting the pathway to the street with a resounding thus. The letter was clutched so tightly in your hand that your knuckles turned white. Each step heavier than the last, your footsteps echoed through Velaris as you made your way to the edge of the city. The vibrant shops and colorful buildings blurred past as you raced towards the River House. Your heart was pounding so hard it felt like it would burst out of your chest as you ran down the pathway and up the grand stairs of the manor. Your fists pounded on the door with such force that they stung and throbbed, but you barely registered the pain. You waited, hands shaking uncontrollably as your throat constricted with each passing second. Every breath was a struggle, like you were drowning on land. Sweat dripped down your back, making your clothes stick uncomfortably to your skin. You couldn't stop fidgeting, shifting from foot to foot as you tried to find some semblance of calm amidst the chaos inside you. It felt like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs and you were about to pass out, yet at the same time, an overwhelming urge to run away gnawed at your insides. Your stomach churned with a mix of nausea and fear, threatening to make you sick right then and there. Tears welled up in your eyes, burning hot against your skin as they threatened to spill over at any moment. You needed someone else to know about this, anyone, before it suffocated you entirely.

As the heavy door swung open, Elain's kind face came into view, a tea towel thrown over her shoulder and an apron tied around her waist. The immediate smile on her lips twisted into concern as she took in your disheveled appearance. "Y/N," she gasped, her eyes widening with worry, "What's going on? What's happened?"

You tried to speak, but the words became jumbled and incoherent as sobs shook your body. Elain stepped closer, her hands reaching out to steady you. "Just breathe," she cooed softly, trying to calm your racing thoughts.

But you couldn't slow down. Every part of you was trembling and shaking as you struggled to get the words out. Tears streamed down your face, hot and wet against your cheeks.

Elain continued to hold your gaze, searching for answers in your frantic eyes. "Honey, I can't understand you," she said gently, placing a hand on your arm. "Please just take a breath."

Elain's eyes flickered towards the letter in your hand before returning to yours. "Y/N," she whispered gently, "Sit down." With her hand still resting on your arm, she guided you down to the floor, her long dress pooling around her knees as she knelt beside you. Your body hit the ground with a thud as you fell to your knees in front of her, tears pouring down your cheeks as you begged and pleaded for some sort of relief or answer.

Elain pressed her forehead against yours, trying to soothe you with her calming presence. She wrapped her hand around the back of your head, gently stroking your hair as she took deep, exaggerated breaths. You struggled to match her rhythm at first, but slowly, your breathing began to synchronize with hers, and your heart rate started to slow.

“Good.” She whispered. “Just keep breathing.” You felt your body heave up and down in synch with your breaths as you opened your eyes, looking into Elain’s gentle gaze. “Good job.” You stayed like that for a moment, protected in Elain’s arms and gentle embrace as she pulled you in for a hug. “Just calm down.” She leaned back, brushing year hair that was hot and wet away from your face. “Let’s go inside.” She whispered, smiling lightly. You nodded, whimpering slightly as she helped you to your feet.

As you crossed through the entrance into the foyer of the River House you realized suddenly that in your haste to get there you hadn’t put shoes on. You looked down to see your feet, reddened and raw, bleeding slightly as Elain urged you forwards. You paused, stammering slightly, “I’m so sorry, I’m-”

Elain looked down at your feet and then back to your face, “Don’t worry about that.” She cooed. “It will wash out. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You felt terrible, each step leaving splatters of blood behind you as you continued down the hall to the sitting room. “Feyre!” Elain called out. “Feyre, come here!” She called again.

“Just a second!” Feyre’s voice echoed out from the upstairs balcony.

“Now.” Elain called back, rather firmly.

Elain led you into the sitting room, her arm still linked in yours supporting your body as she sat you on the velvet couch. As you almost collapsed down into it, still breathing shakily, Elain dropped to the floor in front of you, pulling the towel from her shoulder and wrapping it around your bleeding feet. “Just keep breathing.” Elain reminded you as you tried to take a few more breaths.

Feyre rounded the corner into the sitting room, “Elain what did you-” but she stopped as soon as she saw her sister sitting on front of you and your own distressed face. “What’s going on?” Feyre asked, taking a few steps into the room.

Elain turned to her sister only giving her a swift command to bring warm water, towels and bandages. Feyre turned on her heel, her footsteps retreated as Elain turned back to you, smiling softly, “Let’s get these cleaned up first and then we can talk.” She whispered. You nodded as Feyre returned, a bowl of steaming water, a heap of towels and two rolls of gauze. She dropped to her sisters side and the two began working in tandem, taking the rags, dipping them into the water and wiping your wounded feet. Each rag coming away almost blackened with dirt and blood. The two continued until the rags pulled away only slightly pink before wrapping them in the bandages. Feyre brought an ottoman in from the adjoining library, propping your feet up onto it as you winced slightly.

Elain stood, wiping her hands on her apron as Feyre turned to look at her sister. “What’s going on?” She asked looking between the two of your. Elain looked at you, assessing if you were in a state to answer, her eyes glancing to the piece of parchment still clenched in your hands.

You tried to steady your breathing more as you swallowed. Finally it seemed you were able to get words out, “I got a letter.” You started, “From Philip.”

Feyre’s expression darkened, her attention now fully on the letter.

“He knows about Caelum.” You managed to choke out, feeling fear rising in your throat once again.

Feyre stood reaching a hand out. “Can I see the it?” She asked tenderly.

You nodded, holding an unsteady hand out as you released the paper to her. Your fingers ached and you realized you’d gripped it so tightly your nails had dug into your palms and made them bleed. Feyre took the blood splattered document as Elain brought a rag down to your palm, rinsing it gingerly. Feyre opened the letter eyes racing over it with an emotionless facade. When she finished she looked up to you and asked, “Does anyone else know about this?”

You shook your head no, and Elain’s worried gaze shifted between you and her sister. Without hesitation Feyre declared, “I’m going to get Rhys here.” She then turned to Elain and added, “And I’m going to take Nyx to the studio for now, just to get him out of the house. Can you stay here with Y/N?”

Elain offered to take Nyx herself but Feyre shook her head. "No, I'll winnow him there. It'll be faster." She turned to call out for Nyx and called over her shoulder she would get Nesta, Cassian, and Azriel, and that Elain should call Lucien to come down as soon as possible. While her own voice remained calm and collected you could sense the urgency with which she spoke and you worked hard to keep from completely falling apart again.

Elain took a seat on the couch next to you, having still not read the letter, she hadn’t a clue what all of this was about, but her concern was more focused on how you were doing than on the circumstances that brought you there. “Can I get you anything?” She asked quietly, “Water? Tea? Something to eat?”

You shook your head, unable to even think about eating or drinking in this moment.

You didn’t hear Azriel enter the house as much as felt it, like a storm coming across calm waters. You heard the door open with a slam, as though it had fallen from it’s hinges and the entire house seemed to shy away from the force that had entered. You heard Rhysand calling out Azriel’s name, attempting to calm him down, but as the heavy, purposeful footsteps came down the hall, and Azriel turned into the room, you knew there would be no calming the rage behind his eyes. Azriel’s shadows whispered around him as though his own anger was causing them to be frantic and disrupted as he crossed the room to you, his eyes heavy with concern. Azriel immediately stopped by your side, dropping down into a crouch to your feet, still propped up on the ottoman as he inspected the bandages. “What happened?” He asked, his voice breaking with emotion.

Elain answered before you could, “She walked here without shoes.” Azriel’s eyes flicked to Elain who immediately followed with, “But she’s alright.”

Azriel’s attention returned to you, his scarred hands running gently up and down your shins as he looks at you with pain mirrored in his own eyes. “Why would you do that, my love?” He asks softly.

You croak out a response, admitting that in your frantic state, you didn’t even bother putting on shoes before rushing here.

From behind him, Rhysand entered into the room with Lucien, the two speaking in hushed tones with one another as Lucien held the letter in his hand. His russet eyes that looked strikingly of his brothers met yours and were already whispering apologies to you, but you broke your stare with him as soon as Nesta pushed past behind him, followed by Cassian and Feyre. You watched as Feyre’s eyes met Rhysands and they exchanged unspoken words, both of their faces trying their best to hide the concern bubbling underneath.

It’s clear that Cassian and Azriel were both pulled from a War Camp somewhere, both their boots and armor are covered in a thick coating of dried mud and there is grime settled on both of their faces, but it seemed that they had dropped everything and immediately come here. Elain rose from the couch, crossing to Lucien who she immediately slid into, his shoulder wrapping around her arm as she hugged his side. Nesta immediately took Elain’s place next to you, her hand meeting yours and giving you a reassuring squeeze as she kept her eyes on Rhysand. Cassian joined Rhysand and Lucien who continued to whisper to one another. Azriel only kept his eyes on you, his hands continuing their slow patterns up and down your skin as though he was worried if his touch left, you might disappear. He only broke his focus on you when Rhysand cleared his throat, settling into the sitting chair opposite of yours, leaning forwards on his forearms. A silence falls heavy into the sitting room as Rhysand and you meet eyes. His stare isn’t reassuring and that alone is enough to make that fear that courses through your veins peak again.

You can feel the tension in the air as you finally gather the courage to speak up, your voice trembling with unease. "What does this mean?" you demanded, eyes locked on Rhysand.

His gaze shifts slightly, his breaths coming in controlled puffs. "It means that Philip is trying to control you, to manipulate you into living in the Autumn Court," he replies, his tone filled with a hint of warning.

"Well I won't do it," you declare, your voice laced with conviction and defiance.

Rhysand's expression remains steady, but you can sense the underlying frustration in his voice. "I know," he says, "but Philip knowing about your bond with Caelum changes things."

"Why does it matter what he knows?" you snap back, anger bubbling within you. "He has no right to dictate my life or force me to go back to Caelum."

"Unfortunately," Rhysand continues, "the Autumn Court is known for its traditionalist ways. I'm not surprised by Philip's request."

Your mind reels at this revelation, confusion and fear mixing together in a potent cocktail of emotions. "Surprising or not, I’m not going back with him.”

But his response only adds to the growing turmoil inside you. "It's not that simple," he says gravely.

"Fuck if it's not," you retort angrily and Rhysand pauses considering his next works carefully.

Lucien's voice cuts through the tense silence, his words dripping with bitterness and resentment. "Listen," he interjects, all eyes turning to him now. "My brother is a master manipulator, always looking out for his own gain. And trust me when I say he never makes a request that doesn't benefit himself in some way."

"I don't give a shit," you snap back, your frustration and anger boiling over. "I won't do anything he tells me to."

"Y/N, you need to understand that we cannot trust Philip's motives. We must tread carefully and gather all information before making a decision," Rhysand warns, his eyes flashing with concern.

You shoot back, anger simmering in your voice. "I don't care what he wants or why. I will not go back to that place."

"That is not the desired outcome for any of us," he stresses. "But we cannot simply reject him without knowing the full extent of his intentions or if he has any other plans."

Nesta interjects, her tone sharp and urgent. "So we just sit around and wait for another letter? Or worse?"

"I believe it would be wise to wait and see if we can figure out more about what’s going on under the surface.” Rhysand replies, his answer calculating and cold.

"I refuse to be a pawn in someone else's game," you spout, venom lacing your words.

Rhysand fixes you with an intense gaze. "As a daughter of the Autumn Court High family, you are already a pawn whether you like it or not."

"I have no interest in claiming the throne," you protest.

Lucien adds, "But as an extension of the High Lord, you could offer potential heirs for the next ruler after Eris."

Your throat tightens and vomit rises as you think about that possibility.

"How did Caelum even know to reach out to Philip?" Cassian questions, arms crossed against his chest.

"It's possible that the wall that Y/N has against him isn’t as solid as we may have thought, allowing Caelum glimpses into her thoughts," Feyre suggests grimly.

Your heart thuds painfully in your chest, heavy with guilt and regret. Despite the walls you’ve built up and the lessons from Rhysand, you couldn’t keep them safe. All because you let yourself be happy for a moment. You vow to punish yourself later for your weakness, but seeing Azriel’s concerned gaze on you only adds to your inner turmoil. How can you face him when you've failed to protect those you love?

Rhysand's voice cuts through the tense silence like a knife, "We stay silent for now. We reach out to Eris and bring him into the fold, making sure he knows the truth about his brother's actions. And if necessary, we will meet with him to strategize. This issue affects all of us and I refuse to keep anyone in the dark, especially when it concerns Philip." His words hang heavy in the air as he continues, "And I think it would be best for you to distance yourself from us for the time being."

Your eyes widen in shock and confusion as you protest, "What?!" But Nesta's outraged shout echoes your own sentiment.

Rhysand's hand shoots up with ferocity, silencing the two of you before you can protest. "You will stay away until we have a solid plan in place," he commands, his eyes fierce and determined. "Caelum has found a way past your defenses and is using you to gather information for Philip. We cannot risk your safety or ours by keeping you near us."

Azriel's jaw clenches in anger as he grips your leg tighter. "She's supposed to be isolated?" he growls, his gaze burning into Rhysand.

"She won’t be cast out," Rhys answers quickly. "She can stay at the Town House while we figure out what to do."

Azriel's voice rises in protest. "You promised her she wouldn't be kept in the dark anymore."

"It's not about fairness right now," Rhysand counters. "It's about protecting our family and Y/N from harm. And Azriel, as my spymaster, I would hope you could see past your own wants when it comes to the safety of all of us."

As much as you long to be near Azriel, your focus wanes when you're with him. If it means keeping him safe by staying apart, then you are willing to make that sacrifice.

"I won't make Azriel leave the Town House," you interject firmly.

His gaze snaps back to yours, confusion etched on his face at your lack of protest. But you stand your ground. "I can stay at one of the housing units," you suggest. “I understand the risk that me being around poses.”

"No," Azriel responds immediately, shaking his head. "I won't have you hiding from us."

“I cannot bear to see anyone else suffer because of me, Azriel,” you choke out through trembling lips, trying desperately to hold back the tears that threaten to spill over. You refuse to cry, not now, not in front of him. “Even if it means being alone, I will make that sacrifice.” Your heart breaks at the pained look in Azriel's eyes, but you turn away and face Rhysand, determined to stay strong. “I can leave this afternoon.”

Rhysand nods solemnly at you. “Only until we can find a solution or ensure your walls are impenetrable. Until then, I will come visit you and work on strengthening your defenses, finding any weaknesses.”

The room falls into a suffocating silence. Nesta's hand tightens in yours, her tears cascading down her cheeks like the glittering jewels of a shattered crown. Her chest rises and falls with each shaky breath, her body trembling with grief. You can feel the weight of her pain as if it were your own. As you sit with your family, trying to push back the looming questions of how long you will be away and how much of Nesta's pregnancy you may miss, a sense of guilt gnaws at your gut. You know that inside, Nesta is mourning the loss of your steadying presence through this whole ordeal. Lucien refuses to meet your gaze, his shoulders slumped as though he bears the weight of his family's actions.

And then there is Azriel... the sweet, broken male who holds your heart in his hands. His once composed expression now shattered, his hazel eyes a storm of emotion as he begs for you to stay, to fight for your love. But you know deep down that this sacrifice is necessary. You've already lost too many loved ones and the thought of losing him, the one who has held you through all the nightmares and pieced together your shattered soul, is unbearable.

You can feel his fingers trembling against yours, silently pleading for you to look at him. The warmth of his skin sends a rush of memories flooding through you - the late nights spent wrapped in each other's arms, the whispered promises of forever, the shared laughter and tears. But you can't bring yourself to do it, knowing that one glance into those hazel eyes will break your resolve. You refuse to let the tears fall, to show any weakness.

But for now, keeping him away means keeping him safe. And even though it feels like your heart is being torn apart with every step that separates you from him, you are willing to endure the searing pain of losing him for a moment in order to protect him from a lifetime without his love and presence by your side. You will stay away from him, feeling the weight of his absence like a physical ache in your chest, all in the hopes that the delicate babe you see in your dreams, with eyes just like his and tiny wings that flutter with promise, may someday be born into a world where they can thrive and grow strong. You will stay away so that the declaration of your love to one another will not simply fade into a distant memory, but will be nourished and allowed to flourish. You will stay away, making sacrifices for the sake of living, not just surviving, as Azriel has pleaded with you before. You will live, clinging desperately to the hope that one day, when the time is right, you can finally be reunited with the one who holds your heart in his hands.

Readers: Hah. Hah. Hah. *clears throat* sorry about that one.

@sevikas-whore @sidthedollface2 @405rry @sleepylunarwolf @acourtofbatboydreams @quiettuba @julesofvolterra @skylarkalchemist @darling006 @rhysandorian @loglady00 @caninne @weepingwerewolfparadise @that-one-bibliophole @romantasyreader28 @minnieoo @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @annabethgranger123 @krowiathemythologynerd @scatteredstardustt @caroline-books @slytherintaco @thatacotargirl @mcuamerica @lilah-asteria @florabelll @fightmedraco @marvelbros-oneshots @mariahoedt @quinzzelx

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thelarriefics · 6 months ago

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SUMMER FIC REC, Part II: Below you will find fics that take place in the summer, or have summer scenes. (Part I)

📖 On The Horizon by FitzAndLarry (261k)

Drunk, loose, and excited on the first night of his two-week-long cruise, Doctor Harry Styles finds himself with a little extra company on what has turned out to be a lonely experience. Louis, the pilot who helped fly him across the Atlantic, is the object of his fling. Thus begins an adventure filled with laughter, sun, and trauma rearing its ugly head. Deadline on their companionship, the pair commit to enjoying their time - and Harry, the screw-up he is, can't help but lose himself in the fantasy.

📖 love is a word, you gave it a name by @larrydoinglaundry (158k)

After two decades in brutal show business, Louis Tomlinson is trying to restore his tranquility of mind in the peace of Northern Europe where the sun barely sets, Maria's bar is always open, and young Harry has an irresistible spark in his eyes.

📖 blue moon by @aquietlarrie (152k)

or the self indulgent 50’s au where i wanted a safe space to explore the culture, history, and sexuality of being gay in a time when it was extremely difficult to do so. includes, lots of questionable dancing, healing your inner child, and one heck of an emotional ride.

📖 a cycle of recycled revenge by @broken-beaks (103k)

Or: The one where Harry likes to infuriate Louis almost as much as he enjoys straddling his lap.

📖 gloominess of summer days by @adoremelikeasunflower19 (90k)

Following a devastating and unexpected split, Harry finds himself rewarded by the mysterious ways of Faith in the form of an inheritance of his Uncle’s house in a distant country Wolveheuls. Dismissing his initial scepticism, he chooses to seize the opportunity. He starts a journey of self-discovery, relearning the meaning of loving and being loved, moving on from the painful past, and making his place within the eccentric small-town community. Between his efforts, his path crosses with Louis Tomlinson, a town native, known for his ridiculous number of jobs, incomparable wit, and profound adoration for the cottage lifestyle.

📖 Summer's in the air and baby, heaven's in your eyes by @starryhaze28 (82k)

or a 70s tennis au filled with skirts, pet names and intrigue

📖 your memory over me by @shimmeringevil (64k)

The worst heartbreak of Louis’ life walks right back into it when his parents invite their family friends on an all-expenses-paid trip for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Facing a past that he tried to bury long ago, Louis learns that some people have a way of sticking with you even when they’re gone.

📖 hope your life leads you back to my door by wildestdreams (56k)

Harry Styles set out to be a doctor; a steady career and a good living is all a young person could ask for. What he hadn't set out to do was to spend his summer holiday on a trekking trip in Spain with a group of people he barely knew. And he certainly didn’t plan on having his heart stolen by Louis Tomlinson, class clown, and secret crush, in such a way that he feared he might never find it again. ft. cheesy chat-up lines, a big desi wedding, falling in love, and growing up.

📖 A Golden Goal by a_momentwitme (55k)

"Even they, as free as you think they are, don't always get to love like this, in the true meaning of the word, of the feeling. Not some diluted version that some settle with for their entire lifetime. I mean love in its purest form, which still grows every day despite the problems, barriers and annoying habits you discover in your partner. A love that refills your heart after you pour it out or makes you go on during your worst days, knowing that your best is expecting you at home."

📖 where the tide takes you, i will follow by @pinkcords (53k)

Louis lives in Gloucester and Harry tries to find a way to stay.

📖 sent by the sun by @givesuethemoon (51k)

In 1970s Los Angeles, Harry is a groupie who aches to feel alive. Louis is the lead singer of a rock band who aches to know him.

📖 Suddenly Last Summer by @disgruntledkittenface (44k)

Louis is bored, rich and lonely. He has no reason to expect that this summer in the Hamptons with his friends will be different from any other – until he meets Harry. Suddenly he has someone who listens to him and cares about what he thinks. Someone who really sees him. But their happily ever after is forever marred by an incident at a party during Labor Day weekend, and Louis is left with a choice to make.

📖 Awake Dear Heart, Awake by She_bear (35k)

Cute, fun, sexy and at times emotional AU where Harry and Louis meet as strangers on holiday in Greece and find themselves stuck on a remote beach together. An initial misunderstanding gets them off to a bad start. Both at a turbulent point in their lives, they are forced to confront their internal struggles and of course each other.

📖 He Still Takes My Breath Away by @parmahamlarrie (32k)

the one where Harry is a lifeguard and Louis is the head of recreation. And, sometimes, you just need a little push to realize what was right in front of you the whole time.

📖 Bitter Ends Turn Sweet by @allwaswell16 (30k)

It had been four years since Harry first heard the song his ex wrote about him and far longer since they broke up. He forgave Louis long ago, and now his life was focused on his career, his family, and especially his son, Max. But Louis was back in Chicago, after all this time, and he’s not an easy man to ignore. Or a songfic inspired by the song Chicago

📖 Dancing With Masks by @softfonds (18k)

With awards season coming up and new films on the way for both of them, Harry and Louis' managers decide it's time for them to date for publicity. They don't mind, given that they are best friends and have known each other for ages. Besides, after years of sexual tension built into a fake relationship for press, what could possibly go wrong?

📖 Come on in, the water's fine by @greenblueish (9k)

or, the one where Louis is set on enjoying his last summer jobbing abroad as tourist entertainer and it only gets better when a mysterious hotel guest with overly expensive sunglasses keeps coming back for his drink recommendations.

📖 Black Leather, Blue Lace by @insightfulinsomniac (8k)

aka: a pwp in which new soulmates farmer!Louis and city girl!Harry are filthy exhibitionists.

📖 Near You Now by @beyondxmeasure (8k)

When a leaky bathroom sink turns into a minor flood, Harry has to act fast. So, he thinks of the closest (and most unlikely) way to find home repair help… Grindr. The last thing he expects from this quick fix is to find anything long-term.

📖 now i'm tracin' all my steps to you by @alwaysxlarrie (5k)

Of all the things Harry was prepared for this summer, Louis Tomlinson and his wonderful, wonderful scent isn't one of them. It probably shouldn't be as shocking as it is that it makes Harry want to nest. There's only one slight problem -- Harry and nesting aren't exactly on familiar terms. At all. This does not stop Harry from borrowing ("borrowing") Louis' things all throughout summer, though. Oops?

#masterpost #summer fic rec #summer fics

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irisintheafterglow · 1 year ago

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hear me out....Hawks hcs with a significant other who has a Chemist/Potion quirk. Like im talking a buncha potion bottles and glasses of little remedies they've made and have yet to test 🙏. Kei would occasionally find her notebook on the counter or table, the notebook being filled with ideas of new mixes or something specifically for healing for Keigo when he comes home injured

Also love your work! Some of the best things I've read have come from your page

good chemistry (pun intended)

cw/tags: fem!reader, established relationship, pet names (my girl, love, baby)

note: YASS YOU ARE COOKING and so is reader!! please excuse any chemistry misrepresentations i got a 2 on the ap chem exam LMAOO. thank you for the love, i hope you enjoy this!!!! been a hot minute since i wrote for keigo and i missed him :))

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

"you've got a visitor."

you startle when your coworker's head peeks into your lab, carefully setting down the beakers of volatilely combustible liquids on the black counter of the bench. she tilts her head to the side, urgently commanding you to check out whatever was making her so concerned. slipping off your gloves and sliding your goggles up on your forehead, you thank her as she opens the door and your jaw hits the floor. talking to an obviously starstruck receptionist was your boyfriend, still in his flight jacket and sunglasses and causing the biggest scene you've witnessed in the office since all might accidentally set off the sprinkler system. golden eyes flick over to you in the doorway and his mouth breaks out into a dazzling smile, one that has your coworker clutching the back of a chair for support.

"there's my girl," he murmurs, embracing you with strong, open arms and a chaste peck on your forehead, right under your goggles. you can feel the jealous eyes of the entire staff, but all keigo only pays attention to you. "you look beautiful today, birdie."

"you're saying that because i have goggle marks on my face, kei," you remark, unfazed, and he shrugs in defeat. red feathers sprinkle onto the floor and you make a note to remind him to recall them before he leaves.

"eh, worth a shot. you're unfortunately immune to my charm, now. just means i have to come up with some new lines." you scoff despite your racing heartbeat. with his stupid superhuman senses, he definitely knew exactly what he was doing to you.

"shouldn't you be on patrol?"

"i am, but i wanted to see you and bask in your radiance," he grins boyishly, running his tongue over a sharp tooth. despite every cell in your body wanting to drag him into the nearest supply closet and kiss him until you're breathless, you're still skeptical about the unexpected visit. his voice drops to a low, private octave that sends goosebumps up your arms. "also, i think you left a certain notebook on the kitchen table." your eyebrows blast off into the ceiling, panic overtaking you as you whirl your head toward your lab where you thought your formula book was.

"oh my god, did someone take-"

"no, baby. you're okay," he reassures you and the notebook magically appears from the depths of his jacket pockets. "i'm glad i picked it up before i left this morning," he chuckles. for good measure, you flip through the worn pages to verify that every experiment was, in fact, still there. exhaling a deep sigh of relief, you meet his gentle gaze with a thankful smile. the pages were worth more to you than any sum of money, since it held all the formulas for the antidotes and counteragents you made for keigo when he was injured.

you'd created it after he asked, between colorful strings of expletives, why getting patched up hurt more than the actual injury. being the loving partner you are, you decided to do something about it. your quirk allowed you to visualize all possible outcomes for a chemical reaction depending on the quantities of reactants and lab conditions. it ensured that every experiment you instigated would be successful, as long as you followed the conditions in your head down to the air temperature of the lab. your recordings in the notebook started as a simple antiseptic that didn't have the sting of store-bought bottles, one that could douse a wound without so much as a flinch from the injured patient. now, you were part of an independent company that created first aid products for heroes to use and distribute during rescues. and, it was all thanks to the oversized chicken-man that slept in your bed.

"whatcha workin' on right now?"

"some stronger eyedrops for eraserhead," you reply, taking his gloved hand and guiding him into your lab. he delicately picks up a few beakers, inspecting their color through the bottom of the glass like a kid in a soda shop.

"like the stuff you put in my eyes when-"

"when you got hit by that smoke quirk, mhmm," you hum, milling about in front of the shelf of chemicals. "if i figure this out, it'll also help when your eyes get dry from flying."

"you mean, when you figure this out," he reminds you, turning you to face him and pulling you close by your hips. he leans into your hand when you card your fingers through his wind-mussed hair, melting against your touch. "there's nothing in this world that you can't do."

"you're a really sappy guy, you know that?"

"i know it, as much as i know that you're never getting rid of me."

"you promise?"

"as long as the birds still fly, baby."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#hawks x you #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #bnha hawks #hawks x y/n #mha x y/n #keigo takami #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha x you #hawks fluff #mha fluff #ask iris!

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psychelis-new · 1 year ago

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pick a pile: "It's about timing"

take a breath, close your eyes and ask yourself a time-related question. then, open your eyes and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to find out about the possible amount of time needed for/time span in which the subject you're enquiring about may manifest or start manifesting for you. reminder timing can change according on different factors: this reading mainly wants to provide some kind of general advice/have a calming effect.

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

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1 2 3 4 5 6

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pile 1

timing: present time, short time, imminent (2 months max.) it depends also on your ability to focus on what you can control/yourself (keep your mind in check as it may sabotage you through insecurities and similar)/stay grounded. you're attracting your blessings anyway, just try to stay as calm as you can and keep working.

song: still life | dawn golden

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pile 2

timing: next year, more likely end of the year or late autumn. I heard july too (could be specific for some or a confirmation -eg. a birth month). it may be also when you are near to close a cycle in your life (end of self insecurities)/divine timing. you'll balancing out something in your life too, either your inner/outer self or two endeavours or simply two energies.

song: dynamite | bts

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pile 3

timing: in 10 months-2 years. march could be a favorable month or a confirmation of some kind (eg. birth month). go slow, keep working on your happiness and be determined. If this is really what you want and what really makes you happy too, it will be (check within during these months).

song: i like | kut klose

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pile 4

timing: 8 months or 2-4 years. something needs to be changed within you or your approach to this matter. even if you cannot see it well yet and it feels so far away, be hopeful and more determined. you may meet help on the way. "a pinch of belief" (dunno what it means or if it resonates with anyone... maybe somebody wants to cook something?)

song: easy | danileigh, chris brown

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pile 5

timing: it's a surprise! keep working on healing your heart, especially from negative past experiences/emotions you may still carry within and find a hard time to free yourself from. try to not overworry if you can. take good care of you and be kind with yourself if it's taking a while: it's okay, even if it seems unbearable at times. be patient.

song: heart to heart | mac demarco

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pile 6

timing: when you start a new cycle or you are in a moment of reflection/pause. divine timing. might happen suddenly and shake things up a bit. try to close that hurtful chapter and take time for yourself. grow your confidence. let the Universe work for you behind the scenes.

song: butterfly | crazy town

#pick a pile #pick a photo #pick a card tarot #pick a card reading #pick a picture #pick a card #free tarot reading #tarot readings #tarot reading #intuitive readings #clairs readings #psychic readings #divination #timing

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nicserenity · 3 months ago

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Having watched Twisters a second time in the cinema I have a lot of thoughts and feelings.

-I watched it the first time only knowing 2 things: there gonna be twisters and Glen Powell - I was surprised by so many choices the film/script/director made, because my zynical millenial ass just expected people like Ben to die - I feel bad, Ben is awesome!

- This movie is as much fun watching it the second time than the first, I had a month in between the viewings, obsessing over it (and Glen), I already had headcanons, read a lot of fanfic, but that didn't lessen the experience

- The opening part of the movie hits so much harder now that I "know" Kate. Watching the first time I just accepted the horror for what is happening in a disaster movie, but now it's tough to watch Kate's friends die.

- The tonal shifts of the movie work extremly well and are very hard to pull off, because if you don't have the sensibilty of the director, the script or the actors, this could be a real mess.

- The barn scene is so beautifully acted, I am in awe that it is totally believeable, hats off to Glen and Daisy

- Connected to this: Tyler's turn from slight obnoxious cowboy to cowboy scientist to adorable and sensitive "boyfriend" is only possible with the charisma and insight of Glen - very few actors could pull this off, because the audience doesn't really get this much insight into about Tyler's character, but Glen has.

- The scene where Kate is packing the dandelion was so beautifully shot, my eyes were a little wet.

- The legendary non kiss! I am of the opinion that a kiss wasn't needed, because a) I feared that it could feel like the kiss in the first Jurassic World movie, just bland and not really earned - of course that would not have been true and b) they have a beautiful connection, but crossing this line would be too much too soon esp. for Kate, she still has so much healing to do, just give her more time for something more intense.

The funny thing is that you really see the hard cut of the kiss, if you know about it. Totally didn't get that the first time.

So the summary of this post is: Twisters has overtaken my brain, rightfully so!

Ok two more:

- Kate is way more insane than Tyler. After watching it the second time I appreciate the parallels of their love for the chase/ understanding tornados even more, but she is a wild one, Tyler is really in for something.

- I love how the Wrangler actors make so much out of their screentime, their excitment first felt like too "loud", but man I love all their little traits and quirks. Also the energy celebrating imaginary wind is acting, Glen Puts his whole golden retriver energy into it.

#twisters #glen powell #daisy edgar jones #tyler owens #kate carter #twisters meta #twisters spoilers #glen powell the man that you are

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escapingrealityforamoment · 1 year ago

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So what if Reader was friends with Steven? Like she didn't knew Belly, Conrad and Jeremiah but she was Steven's friend, so he invited her for the summer, and reader was a posh person who wasn't a really fan of these things, but listened to her friend, and when she did come there, everyone was all over her as she was really pretty, except Jeremiah and Conrad, Jeremiah liked her as a friend and conrad didn't liked her at all, slowly Reader and Jeremiah had feelings for each other and came into a relationship, and reader came into the same college as conrad and they also slowly became friends, but when they both saw Jeremiah and Belly kissing, both of them hated them and stayed more closer?

Hi love! Thank you so much for the request and I am so sorry it has taken so long for me to respond!! I hope you enjoy reading this and there will be a part two 💖😘

When I first arrived at Cousins Beach for the summer, I had no idea what to expect. My friend Steven had talked up his summers here with the Fisher family, and although I was more accustomed to city life, I trusted his judgment and embarked on the adventure.

As soon as I set foot in this coastal paradise, it felt like the whole world revolved around me. People couldn't help but be drawn to me, a stranger in their tight-knit community. I became a curiosity, a beautiful anomaly in their simple, beachside world. Among those who were captivated by my presence, Jeremiah and Conrad stood out, but for entirely different reasons.

Jeremiah, who had a friendly and approachable demeanor, was the first to break the ice. He didn't treat me as a stranger but as a friend. We spent countless hours talking about our dreams, our love for art, and the little things that made life by the sea so extraordinary. What began as friendship soon blossomed into a deep connection, and my heart couldn't deny the fluttering I felt whenever he was nearby.

Conrad, however, was a different story. His icy exterior never seemed to thaw, and his disapproval of me was evident in every word and gesture. I couldn't understand why I bothered him so much, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't break through to the warm-hearted person hidden beneath.

As the summer days melted into the golden hues of fall, the connection between Jeremiah and me couldn't be ignored. We faced the challenges of a long-distance relationship as he went off to college. Our bond remained strong, even as the miles separated us, our late-night calls and longing texts keeping the connection alive.

Surprisingly, Conrad also ended up at my college, and our paths continued to cross. Over time, I could sense his icy exterior slowly thawing as we became friends. Our shared experiences and moments of vulnerability revealed the layers beneath his tough facade.

But then, everything took an unexpected turn. One evening, I found myself witnessing a heartbreaking scene: Jeremiah and Belly, locked in an intimate kiss. My heart shattered, mirroring the pain in Conrad's eyes when he witnessed the same moment. Our worlds collided, and the shared agony of our unrequited love brought us together.

In the midst of heartbreak, Conrad and I found comfort in each other's presence. We shared our stories of love and loss, our struggles and dreams. What had once been a source of tension between us had transformed into a deep and lasting friendship. Together, we healed our wounded hearts, finding solace in each other's company and understanding.

Our shared pain forged an unbreakable bond, and Conrad and I became inseparable. While the scars of the past still ached, we had discovered a deep and meaningful connection that transcended mere friendship. We hoped that someday, we would find the love we both deserved. For now, we found contentment in each other's understanding, empathy, and unwavering support.

#conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad x reader #conrad fisher x reader #tsitp conrad #jeremiah fisher x y/n #jeremiah fisher x reader #jeremiah x reader #jeremiah fisher imagine #tsitp jeremiah #tsitp x reader #tsitp x you #team conrad #team jeremiah

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misscammiedawn · 3 days ago

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Mr. Robot and Accepting Trauma Memories

In all my posts about how good Mr. Robot can be about depicting healing for those with DID, I never did highlight the last conversation Elliot has with his therapist in Season 4.

[Scene paraphrased, skipping comments about Elliot's father or the itch in the back of Elliot's head]

Upon his trauma memories returning Elliot is dissociated and barely holding it together. His therapist, who was with him for the revelation, gets him to safety (as always depicted by golden light in the show)

Krista's camera angle keeps Elliot in frame at all times while Elliot remains alone. She's reaching out and he's withdrawing. The show always uses camera angles and empty space to show isolation. All the empty space with subjects usually singled out in the 1-2 shots as a way to show their lack of connection.

Krista is on the very edge of the frame, meeting Elliot where he is. She's not trying to pull him out of his dissociation, she's just trying to reach out and offer him grounding and connection and comfort.

The thing being depicted here though is one of the most empathetic displays of trauma memories resurfacing. Elliot wants to forget again and Krista says that he never forgot.

In reality trauma memories, even the most buried ones, remain active and present within anyone suffering a dissociative disorder. The mind simply prevents access to that information as a means of self-preservation. When triggered or summoned it will activate the nervous system and create a recall response. In Elliot's case an "itch in the back of his mind"

At a cellular level, the body stores a memory of everything it has experienced. Sometimes this is evoked through touch, ranging from casual touch, to intimate touching, to massage and body-work. Sometimes a trigger can cause these body memories to break through. Sometimes the body memory just surfaces. Although there are times when a body memory coincides with an identifiable flashback, sometimes it may seem to happen ‘out of nowhere’. This can be extremely frightening and unnerving, especially if you don’t know this is what is happening. It does not mean you have ‘lost it’ or that you are crazy. Your mind is not playing a cruel trick on you, but rather is presenting you with memory or information that needs to be worked through so you can heal from the wounding you experienced. The phenomena of flashbacks and body memories can become more complex when you are not the only personality residing within your physical body— especially until you-all each have a greater sense of ‘self’ and ‘System’. If you have not yet reached a place of distinguishing between yourself and others in your System, you may have a consciousness of sensations that are the memory and/or current experience of another part. While this may seem strange or odd, it is not unheard of. Each part doing their own work, getting to know each other better, and getting strong senses of self- and System- is really what will get things to a more manageable place. - Got Parts ~ An Insiders Guide to Managing Life Successfully with Dissociative Identity Disorder (ATW)

When it comes to handling trauma memories the option to "just forget" does not truly exist. To not think about it does not prevent the mind from reacting when the trigger is touched. The memory will summon sense memory or emotional flashback and cause symptoms.

The only path to healing is to engage with those memories and work on integrating them. No matter how hard that may seem. Because to continue pushing it away is to allow the triggers to continue activating the nervous system and let the memory literally haunt the present day.

I'm glad that Krista got to say that.

Season 4 Episode 8 is all about accepting the weight of the trauma memory.

The final moment of the episode has Mr. Robot, who was created to protect the system and is modeled to look and act like Elliot's abuser, returns to talk to Elliot about what happened. Bathed in golden light and within their base of operations "Allsafe"

Elliot flinches at the mere thought of Mr. Robot. The living memory of his father and the one who held the memories of his abuse for so long. Fearing that he has failed in his duty as Elliot's protector, Mr. Robot speaks, desperate to fix it, knowing that now the memories have resurfaced he may not be able to any longer.

"The only reason I'm here is to make sure no one ever hurts you. That was supposed to be your father's job. But he failed. He was too weak. But you? You were strong. You fought back the only way you could. You brought me here to protect you from him."

"I tried to keep you safe and only show you the memories when the two of you were friends before..." he pauses and lets the implication hang in the air, "I thought I could store the truth so you'd never have to see it or feel it. Fact is I didn't wanna see it either. I made a terrible mistake. I was afraid. Afraid of what this would do to you. To us.

"This was never my secret to keep. And you deserved better than to live in darkness for so long. I'm so sorry. I failed you, too. I understand if you can't forgive me or you decide to shut me out for good. Just as long as you know that I am not your father. I never was."

"You're nothing like him. That's why I created you. You're the father I needed. Not the father I had."

"If I could have stopped him. If I could go back in time. Change everything that happened to you and make it all go away..."

"Then I wouldn't be me." Elliot finally turns to look at Mr. Robot, "And I wouldn't have you."

Mr Robot finally protectively holds Elliot and he breaks down in sobs, unsure if he has it in him to see their hacking plan through.

In this scene Mr. Robot accepts the truth that holding those memories from Elliot caused him so much pain over the years and that it was all he knew to do as a protector but faced with the reality of him accepting the pain he understands he was wrong.

The episode also features Elliot's child alter guiding him to evidence that they did fight back against their father as a child. They locked the door to their childhood bedroom and hid the key that Edward had access to. They threw themselves out of a window to prevent him hurting either him or their sister.

They were a child and sometimes the only way to fight back is to hide or to show the abuser that you'll not accept their abuse silently.

Both Mr. Robot and Krista praise the child who received the abuse for doing all they could to fight back, even when they felt so powerless. That it was not their fault. That the abuse was something they did everything they could to try and stop.

Mr. Robot even goes in and says that he wishes he could use a time machine to undo it and Elliot, finally accepting the core themes of the show, rejects the notion outright.

"I wouldn't be me. And I wouldn't have you."

Healthy acceptance of that which is and treasuring all that has been made with his life despite the trauma.

The main villain's plan is to use what is implied to be a time machine to reject the pain of this harsh reality in search of a better one. She would see suffering and turmoil in the present to bring about a better history. She is so fixated on reclaiming the world she feels she was owed that she cannot accept the reality she finds herself in.

Elliot goes dormant after his conversation with Mr. Robot and he takes over for the big hacking plan. During the finale of the "Fsociety" portion of the plot, Elliot finally resurfaces when Whiterose promises that her plot (implied heavily to be a time machine) can bring back a loved one that was murdered earlier in the show. When confronted with the choice between pressing forward with the pain of loss or retreating into delusion and rejection of reality; Elliot chooses to resurface.

Cementing the theme and moral firmly. It is better to accept the past and integrate it into your future than to live in rejection. Even if it hurts.

It's the only way to heal.

#dawn posting #mr robot #elliot alderson #krista gordon #domo arigato mr alderson #did #watch me post my trauma in public #media essays #media myself and i #though this is a MM&I mini post #cptsd

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whateverisbeautiful · 7 days ago

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Sorry if this is somewhere on your blog already but I was just curious if you had any thoughts on Michonne/Judith & Michonne/Carl and any moments you had that were your favourite or maybe top 5? Maybe even just Grimes Family 2.0 family moments you really enjoyed.

I relish any opportunity to reflect on the Grimes family, so thank you for this! Sorry, it took me a minute to respond. I adore Michonne’s relationship with Judith and Carl. They are both so important to Michonne’s healing and development and she’s so important to theirs as well. I like how through each relationship with her kids we got to see different aspects of Michonne’s motherhood.

With Carl being older, Michonne was able to first establish a genuine friendship with him first and then fully step into that mother role in his life. And then with Judith, Michonne got to raise her from the earliest stage of her life and see Judith grow up to be so much like her mom Michonne.

I definitely have favorite moments between Michonne/Carl and Michonne/Judith that I’ll share next. For this post, I wrote below my Top 5 Grimes Family 2.0 moments from TWD. 😊⬇️

#1: The Train Tracks (4.15)

This scene is so special for so many reasons and it’s one of my favorite scenes in all of TWD. I mentioned it in the Top 30, but one of the many things I love about this moment is how happy and light-hearted it is even despite their difficult and uncertain circumstances. Like they truly had so little at this time and yet it felt like they had everything because they had each other.

And before this, it was already more than clear that Michonne was vital to the Grimes, but seeing the way she was able to carve out some fun for Carl along their travels and make this world feel less dark and bleak for a moment further cemented how much Carl needs her, not just to protect him but to add brightness to life too. Their little competition and sharing of candy was such a nice depiction of Michonne and Carl's bond. And of course, Rick grinning from ear to ear while watching Michonne and Carl together really completes the scene and communicates that he has most certainly fallen in love with his son’s best friend. 😊

#2: The Scale of 1-10 (4.16)

There are a couple scenes between Rick, Michonne, and Carl on the road in the season 4 finale that could make my list of favorite Grimes family moments. They had so clearly become family and you just knew no matter what happens next this family unit would remain intact. But a scene that quickly comes to mind when asked about fav Grimes family moments is when the golden trio is hovering over a fire and Rick asks them how hungry they are on a scale of 1 to 10.

I always find that whole scene so sweet, especially when Michonne and Carl both answer above 10, and when Michonne says "28" Rick gives her the food first. And then when Carl wants to go with Rick to check the snares, I love the way Rick includes Michonne in that and wants her to come along as well. It was truly giving family camping trip and it showed how much Rick views Michonne as part of the Grimes family.

There’s also a s4 finale scene where Carl asks about what they’ll tell Terminus about themselves as he seems to be wondering who they’ve become and what parts of themselves they should share considering they’ve had to do a lot of tough things to survive. It’s such a subtle moment but I always love that when Carl asks this weighty question, Rick’s first instinct is to share a look with Michonne. To me, that look showed that Rick entrusts Michonne as a fellow parent to also be able to step in and address Carl’s questions.

And I love that she’s the one to respond and that Carl got to have both a mom and a dad to turn to during this time. Especially later when the Claimers show up, I think a huge reason why Carl didn’t entirely spiral after that experience is because he was able to have two parents who could both fiercely protect him and emotionally support and comfort him.

#3: The Morning Routine (6.10)

Anytime we got domestic Grimes Family moments it was always gold. And I love the insight we got into how the Grimes spend their mornings during that 6.10 episode. It was all so comfortable and I love that it’s a scene that includes Rick, Michonne, Carl, and adorable baby Judith too. Of course, the flirtatiousness and steam coming off Richonne as they near finally taking their relationship to the next level are great, but I also love the whole playful parents vibe with Carl having such teen responses to his parents calling him and his dad’s goofiness with repeating what he said.

I always appreciate that whenever the Grimes got a chance to enjoy some periods of normalcy with each other there was often lots of smiles and laughter included in those moments because they make each other happy and bring out each other’s most at ease side.

#4: The Art (9.01)

It is impossible for me to not smile over the opening Grimes Family scene in the season 9 premiere. Again, I love the way this gave insight into how their family spends quality time. With Michonne having been shown to love art, it’s the sweetest thing to see her out on the patio talking about Judith’s paintings with her and being so encouraging about it. I also love that we got to hear Judith talk more in this scene and that she has such a fondness for their family and friends with how she always likes to draw them, including her late brother Carl. 🥲

And then Rick walking out and taking in the image of his wife and daughter is also so heartwarming. You just know he’s looking at them in that moment and thinking about how they’re his heart and they’re what makes life so worth living. And then the way Rick asks about the grumpy face and Judith says he gets a grumpy face and big tummy, I’m smiling just thinking about how cute that was. And it’s made even more perfect when Michonne can’t help but let out her adorable laugh.

The Grimes family's moment in the field with the birds was also such a lovely visual. I love the way Judith has her hand over her mom’s as Michonne holds her and the way it shows yet again how Rick and Michonne both value giving their kids these moments to appreciate the beauty that’s left in the world.

#5: The Family Fun Day (9.03)

I feel like this one making the list of favorite Grimes Family 2.0 moments needs no explanation but of course, I still have to gush about it a little more lol. This montage was everything from beginning to end. And this scene technically includes RJ too which just makes it all even better. 😊 Along with what I’ve already shared about this scene in the Top 30, I love the way this Family Fun Day reminded me of how Judith has long been a beacon of hope for Rick and Michonne and just her presence always helped bring them to where they need to be and to who they are most meant to be.

Judith needing formula played a big part in Michonne going to the prison and meeting her future Grimes family. Wanting to find a home where Judith could live played a big part in them going to Alexandria. And after losing sons and enduring so much, Rick and Michonne were able to still remain in tune with their parental side and their playful side through raising Judith and making sure her life and their lives still included fun and joy.

And seeing the three of them get to just be solely focused on being family and playing and enjoying the day during their Family Fun Day was food for the soul. In the deleted scene on that picnic blanket, Rick basically suggests he hopes for more years spent like this and it makes sense because whenever the Grimes family are together and just getting to be present and at peace, there’s nowhere else they’d rather be and there’s nothing more I’d rather see than Grimes Family 2.0 getting to live happily.

#richonne #reflecting on richonne #asks & answers

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pursuitseternal · 8 months ago

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“Spatting:” What happens when Cordehlia needs to check Astarion’s ascended ego in “Our Blood is Thicker”

(Ascended) Astarion x Cordehlia (Tav) | E | 3.7 K of fight sex and sweet reconciliation

🎨 by my beloved @marimosalad on X, (nsfw) on X

Summary: Morning after she’s turned, Cordehlia realizes her ‘Maker’ is just the same spoiled child he’s always been. Who better than to take the Ascendant by the 🍒 than his love with years of experience.

CW: Ascended ego, fight/angry sex, Nepo baby’s got to nepo baby, rough/playful sex, semi-clothed sex, aftercare feelings.

Previous Ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

Chapter 20: Spatting…

💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞

Nothing. Cold sheets. Empty bed. Astarion could sense her close. At the very least this time as he bolted awake from his trance, he could feel her, sense her, even call for her if he wished. Now at least she would never be lost again. He would always be watching. Always protecting.

He hurried to ready himself, but not too quickly, even hearing with his true ears the musical pattern of her voice on the other side of the wall. The chorus of laughter and banter with the others in the large chamber they called their home, it made him smile, and it made a little sliver of jealousy tug at his gut.

He put himself together with appropriate decorum, tucking in his shirt, brushing off his leathers. He would need clean clothes now, elegant, refined and ostentatious clothing, an appropriate wardrobe befitting a Vampire Lord.

The Vampire Ascendant.

It made him preen inside in a way he hadn’t since his youth, since he was doted on and spoiled and cherished and…

Faces of his parents flashed before him, scenes from before, of their home, their voices, their gardens and finery and love. And yet with all that longing as he finally remembered them, he felt their peace. Their tranquility as they rested in their after life. Maybe waiting to see him again some day.

Avenged at last.

It was more than enough for now to embolden him, heal him, empower him to be what he had made of himself.

His destiny of greatness spanned out before him. With her in his arms for their eternity. It was a… magnificent prospect, one that made him smile. Turning towards the door as he fixed his hair, a thought passed through his mind.

That small circular mirror… gilded and ornate. He paused to look, closing his eyes, squinting them shut just in case. But once he peeked, those squinting eyes filled with tears.

“It’s me…” he breathed, crimson eyes staring back, lips moving in time with his voice, pale face, etched with sharp cheeks and bluish veins and wrinkles. Lines that showed the years of happiness he once had, the centuries of torment he endured and conquered. The Rite had given him more than the power to save Cordehlia from the brink of death, that face he began to see once again through her eyes, her memories shared, now it was his own.

Smiling, smirking deeply, he tousled his silver curls, that flawless coif that tumbled so naturally of its own will.

Yes, he would join his bride. Before they forgot who he was now, who she was to him now.

It was a matter of moments for him to enter into the mirthful chaos that unfolded, their companions celebrating their friend returned to them. Back from death. They hugged her in turn, voices so loud to his sensitive ears. He snuck behind them silently, retrieving his pack, and pulling out an ornate jacket he judged to be the best thing now that he had… everything, just a little something he saved for once they were victorious. Victorious he was now. Everything at his fingertips.

It felt so good to slip on that heavy material, to hear the elegant stitching and beading rustle, the musical clasps locking up his chest. One last guilty pleasure, eyeing himself in another small mirror beside him, fingers tracing the details of each swirl and golden peacock on that crimson silk. “Exquisite,” he murmured, “simply exquisite.”

“There he is!” That boisterous, pedantic voice came too close from over his shoulder. “That undead slug-a-bed!” Gale clapped him on his shoulder and turned him towards the rest of them. “We were just…”

“Don’t. Touch. Me,” Astarion snipped each word, peeling off the Wizard’s fingers one by one with more force than required. Then he pushed past the befuddled companion and strode into the fray. Karlach had his love so tightly in a hug, all he could see was the top of her fiery red hair. “Well, I hate to interrupt this… delightful celebration, but my consort and I have matters to attend to…”

“Yeah, another round of wall banging, floor pounding sex again,” Karlach chortled, only hugging her favorite She-elf tighter. “Let her hug and celebrate, you put her through enough last night it sounded like.”

Astarion tried not to look too disgusted by the comment.

“You did a good thing, Astarion,” Wyll reached to clap him in the shoulder, and the Vampire swatted that hand away mid air. “Well, you did a very horrendous thing for love, which…” The warlock cleared his throat as Astarion’s nostrils flared, “…which even a monster hunter can appreciate.”

“Especially when we love her too,” Halsin gave that big belly laugh, pulling the Tiefling off of Cordehlia and grabbing her hand to bring her into another embrace.

“Hisss…” Astarion inserted himself—fangs bared, cock hard, muscles ready to attack. To defend what was his. “Enough,” he snapped and pulled her by her arm back from the mass of them all. “Come, my pet, we have much to discuss.”

Cordehlia shot him a look of confusion and… contempt. “Pet?” she snipped. “You give me red eyes and a slowed heart and suddenly I’m your pet?”

He stiffened, those broad shoulders squaring, the tendons of his neck going taut. “Cordehlia,” he ground out her name. “Let’s discuss this alone. If you dislike what I call you, there are ways…”

She just smiled, and turned her back on him, heading for her pile of belongings.

And laughing.

“Don’t like others touching your things, my love?” she laughed louder again, crouching to pull out fresh clothing, returning her blade to its scabbard where it was set to the side. “Just as spoiled, aren’t you? Same entitled elfing,” she huffed under her breath, irritated and yet endeared at the memories.

But a hand gripped hard under her arm and yanked her to standing.

“I have every right to what is mine, especially after all the shit I’ve endured. Don’t you agree, my love? Don’t you think you’ve earned this all too? And after all that I did to save you…”

She pressed her hand over his scowling mouth. Silencing him as ignobly as possible. “You want to weigh our sins, Astarion? You want to measure up the hurt and reconciliation that should be required?” Frowning deeply, she shook her head. “I do not think that would balance out in your favor, my love.”

His lips moved beneath her palm, rising until the cool smoothness of his teeth pressed against her skin.

He wanted to bite. To show her the effects of her impudence…. And power hummed under his skin, magic boiling in his blood to take control. She could see it in his eyes, feel his every lusty desire and angered thought racing down their new-formed bond as if his feelings tugged at her own gut.

“Relax, Astarion,” she whispered, that familiar softness in her voice even if she stared at him with scarlet eyes, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving until you see sense.”

Her hand slipped from his face, her body leaving him for a moment as she locked eyes on their friends. “You all go, get what we need, spells, scrolls, potions, clothing,” she jerked her head back at where her love still fumed silently behind her. “Lord Astarion and I will be fine until your return.”

“Lord…?” Gale chuckled slowly at that. “You sure you’ll manage?”

Cordehlia only smiled wider and folded her arms across her chest. “Decades of experience in calming his arrogance, I’ll be fine.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Shadowheart sighed, whining, something in between, “before they start spatting and then bleeding each other.”

The door shut firmly behind the lot of them, and only then did Cordehlia turn. His eyes were dark and dilated, lips pressed firmly in a line, chest heaving with angered breaths.

“You dare to speak that way…” he fumed.

She held up a hand, equally irate. “You dared to speak that way to me, to our friends,” voice low and pressed and quiet.

It unnerved him obviously, the way his jaw tweaked. Good.

“I love you, but this is uncalled for, Astarion. You don’t need to protect me from them, that’s foolish.” She watched his pulse accelerate in his neck, making her salivate. Making her hungry.

“You don’t get to tell me what’s foolish, my dear. Leaving alone in the morning, traipsing about the city that is brimming with our foes with only a dagger at those ripe, rounded hips of yours…” he growled, hands clenched at his side. “The veritable definition of foolish. You should have known better!”

He was hissing, spitting mad.

But he was right.

“And after all that, all that, the least you can do is listen to me.” He snapped his fangs. “I am your Master, your Maker and Sire, your Lord after all, my darling.”

That did it. That pushed her from seeing his sense to blinding rage in retaliation. She dipped an ostentatious curtsy, “Oh forgive me, my Lord, I did not mean to offend…” she raised herself, suddenly rushing him to shove him back into the bed behind him. Snaring, she snapped in his face and smiled. “You sack of shit, of course I mean offense. You’re being an ass.” Her hands grappled for his own, bracing his belly beneath her thighs as best as she could.

He lifted himself, only to be shoved back again with her hand at his throat. “You listen here, Astarion Ancunín, my heart is yours, my body, my life, my future. But you need to remember you are worthy of it without the… preening. The peacocking.”

“Is that what you call my need to show you what you mean to me?” He gave some amused, if sinister, laugh beneath her. “What? Inspired by the new attire?”

“It’s nice, but I do prefer you in nothing…”

Rage began to melt to lust. His laughter rasped as she kept that hand at his throat. “As do I,” he taunted with a hbuck of his hips to raise her from the bed.

“Shame you’re being a selfish arsehole and a spoiled brat, my love,” she sneered, so filled with childish teasing. Her grip eased as she pulled that tunic from her milk white body. Those perfect beasts coming to dangle just beyond his reach as she leaned over, but fully in his sight. “Only good boys get their treat, don’t you remember?” She rode those buckskin-breached thighs over his hips. And godsdammit if he didn’t instantly harden despite her insolence.

Or maybe it was because of it.

He reached to wrap her tightly in his hold, to make those poor, sensitive breasts score and press hard against the beading of his jacket. She hissed and squirmed but fought back with all that undead, warrior strength. But it wasn’t a fair match. “Aww,” he goaded her, one hand loosening to tap her on the end of her cute little nose, “you keep trying, my darling. You have all eternity now to try to best me.”

She roared in frustration, snapping her own fangs in his face again, an increasingly frequent habit she was developing.

Not that he minded.

“You really should apologize for leaving without at least telling me where you went…. It would have been the decent thing,” he jeered, bucking against her again, repeating the deep and slow thrust over and over between her thighs. She hissed as with each drive against her, those delightful beads raking over her nipples and flesh just enough to scratch and tear.

“You should apologize,” she ground out, trying hard to shove herself free, “for being such a prick.”

His brow arched, wicked and haughty, before he raised himself up and flung her on her back. End for end, her world spun. In a few weeks, days even, she would have been faster, but this new body was still… well, new. Helpless, she could only lie there for a moment, his hand grasping at her leg, his clothed cock shoved in the wide open space between her thighs he made. Lifting her knee just a bit higher, he grounded firmly, making sure she felt every curve of his growing erection.

“I won’t apologize for being a prick any sooner than I would apologize for… having one…”

Another exasperated roar from her mouth and she reached for his body, for anything. Sinking her fingers into the back of his thigh and the sinews of his forearm, she hissed again. “Say your sorry, you spoiled brat,” she sneered, even as she laid back into the pillows and ground back on his length.

“Make me. And you can’t go running to tattle on me these days…” he chuckled so low and devious, it made a shiver run straight to her dripping cunt.

The grunt she drew from his parted lips, a guttural hngf as she grabbed his balls through his leathers made her smile wickedly. “I’m sorry,” her voice thick with sarcasm, she smirked, even as his hand gripped tighter on her leg, the other reaching for the sheets to clutch them tighter in his fist. “You wanted to say you’re sorry for….?”

His head raised from where it had hung in that second of agony, undeterred. “I’m sorry that you can’t listen to me even when I’m right, my love.”

She clutched his balls harder through that damned leather, making his eyes wince against his will.

“Want to try again?” she hissed in twisted and dark delight, watching the sweat start to bead on his brow.

“I rather think it’s your turn,” he ground out, setting her leg on his shoulder, both hands making quick work of her trousers. And just to keep him at her mercy, she let him, helping him slip that fabric off her smooth legs until it too ended up on the floor. Tongue licking his fang, he pulled her and placed her right back where they had left off, leg on his shoulder, folds dripping and swollen and pink for his pleasure. “What are you sorry for now, my bride?” he let his voice fill with ice, even as his eyes flared with hot desire.

“I’m sorry you have all this new power at the tips of your fingers, and yet you have a bride to hold you by your balls,” she reached for his body, letting her touch search under the hem of that refined jacket. “Gods, that looks so good on you,” she accidently let her thoughts slip from her tongue, only stroking that ego more, only allowing for him to preen and peacock all the more.

His delighted smirk made her drip as he shoved that strained gusset of his breeches back between her spread legs. “I know,” he crooned, “Tell me something I don’t, something I want to hear, and maybe I’ll reward you, hmm?”

Through all that flirtation, she had snuck her own deft fingers through his laces enough to slide inside.

Another head-hanging grunt of defeat from his throat sounded as she wrapped her touch around that hot, pounding cock. “Come on… I know what you want to do…” she murmured, sweeping her hips to just barely catch where she drew that flushed and hard head of his cock from the top of his breaches. Another pitiful whimper caught her ears the second she knew he felt her. “I am sorry, you know my love,” she whispered, eyes soft and rosy lips parting in sincerity as he looked down into her beautiful face. “I wouldn’t ever want to hurt you, not since we found one another again…”

A smile of begrudging relief on his sharp features, he smirked at her. “I accept that, close enough for your bratty mouth,” he panted, pulling himself out the rest of the way from those bursting leathers to impale her decently at last.

“Oh stop,” she groaned as he filled her, “you like what my bratty mouth can do…”

He laughed, leaning forward as he started to thrust into her with achingly slow sweeps. One hand pulled that raised leg flush against him, but the other… its fingers swept through the slick that seeped around where they joined, only to push those two digits between her parted and grinning lips.

“Shh, shh, shh,” he taunted, that same dripping, icy arrogance as when she found him in the fateful wreckage, when fate pushed them together once more. “You needn’t say another word. I already forgive you, my darling.” He groaned, fangs bared even as his hips snapped harder, her lips closing and sucking on his fingers so hard. As she tried to speak around his gag, Astarion only chuckled, pulling her chin down gently as he smiled with pure twisted delight. “Something on your tongue?””

Bastard. Sexy… bastard.

“I’m sorry, my love…” she fought to speak as he held her. “Sorry that even when you’re irritated you can’t help but long to sink that cock of yours inside me.”

“Considering you're with me for eternity now, I suppose I’ll endure that delicious suffering,” he rasped and released her mouth. “I’m sorry I don’t even need to be completely undressed for you to spread your legs for me,” he teased back, another rumbling laugh low in his throat as he let the topmost buckle to that ostentatious jacket open. Just a peak more of his ivory skin showing for her eyes to devour.

“Cheeky bastard,” she whined, arching as that hand traced down his clothing to toy with that hard little clit of hers.

“Just don’t come on the clothing, pet…” he snickered, a taunting and playful shine in his eyes, even as his thrusts began to tell he was closer to coming than he wanted to let on.

“I’ll try my best, Master,” she spat sarcastically, reaching for that jacket, freeing the bottom clasp so quickly before reaching for her favorite part of him to grab. The second she held his tight, smooth balls in her palm, he groaned, so near to shattering. She rode him in perfect rhythm, every sweep inside, she sank to take him fully. Those eyes of her flitted down his body, drinking in the sight of him taking her, fucking her with such unbridled desire. Her hands strayed from his groin to wander over what little unclothed skin he had. Her newborn touch was icy cool on his flesh, her breathing rougher and ragged and damp as it passed over her own set of fangs. Remade to be like him, she was even more perfect now, the perfect reflection, the perfect counterpoint to his power, his love. Even the way she clenched and groaned, he could still feel inside his own being, her passion racing in his blood, a lust so hot and thick, it would last for eternity.

That touch of hers wandered one more time where he thrust inside, wrapping around that base of his length, so slick and hot as she teased him one more time.

“Fuck,” he sneered at the slightest contact, pinching her clit so hard, he lost control as his own coil of heat and climax came so near to bursting. Waves took hold of them, that telltale roughness to her breathing, that iminent explosion of heat as her back arched, hot slick gushing as her cunt milked his every thrust. She unraveled beneath him with his name on her sweet lips. He clawed into her thigh to hold her steady as she came undone, breaking the skin. The sweet scent of her blood in his nose was the last thing he needed to come.

Slaps of their bodies deafened their ears, their air dry and rough and ragged in their throats, hot slick dripping in a total mess beneath them on that bed. He looked down at her as he tried to catch his breath. Her pale flesh carried little marks from his beaded jacket, like little dagger tips had barely drawn over her skin, her mouth was smiling and wide and fang-baring and panting as she looked into his face. And those eyes, that strange reflection of his own now, wet with tears as she traced her hands lightly up and down his lower body, wherever she could reach.

He slipped from her, quickly removing all that covered his chest, laying down and rolling to bring her into his arms again. “I am… sorry…” he whispered.

“I am sorry too,” she whispered back, pressing her lips against his, voice so low, so quiet, with words meant just for him. “After all we have endured, together… apart… together again, you’ll never lose me again, you know.”

“I’m counting on it, you know,” he murmured into her lips in reply. Fingers softly lifted her chin, caressing with reverent touch over where his bite marks still ached, he was sure. “Besides, who else would be there to keep me in check when I get a little too spoiled…”

“A little?” she scoffed, her arm moved so quickly, hand smacking his ass even as his trousers still hung halfway off those rounded cheeks. “This time, I grabbed you by the balls, don’t make me resort to other measures next time…”

“Of course, my lovely Cordehlia…” he smirked, trouble incarnate as he sucked her lower lip into his kiss, biting down to draw just a taste of her blood. “But I do look forward to receiving your… other measures, someday…”

“Given your level of arrogance, I’m sure you won’t have to wait too long, Astarion,” she huffed, returning the favor with a biting kiss of her own. The taste of iron on their tongues, the sweat drying on their skins, it made Cordehlia take a deep, contented breath. “In fact, I don’t think we should wait much longer, just to make sure you’ve learned your lesson…” she whispered, thigh raised to grip the top of his hips.

Astarion just shook his head in loving disbelief. “I should have known turning you would only make you all the more insatiable… you minx.” She just shrugged, pulling his warm body to cover her, content to remain this way for eternity.

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revserrayyu · 2 months ago

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2.5 Xianzhou continuance thoughts [part 4]

**SPOILER warning** for the end of the mission, covering the conversations between the Yaoqing trio, the Generals and everything else. If you haven’t cleared the story yet then go do so. Or go farm some relics. Do a ten pull. Go frolic outside. Do whatever you wish except ruin your own story experience with spoilers by reading ahead.

The way my heart sank thinking that Jiaoqiu truly didn’t survive his injuries..

..only for us to see Trailblazer and Bailu messing around, weeping at a hastily put together grave for March because she disappeared out for their sight for two minutes. Hoyo must take great pride in successfully giving me a heart attack.

Pfftt, I’ll enjoy the lighthearted conversation while I can though I guess. We truly didn’t do much during this mission with all the POV switch ups that happened, though I still love that they’re allowing us to speak more. All the Trailblazer voice actors are great and I hope we continue to hear them more often in the future.

Annndd that the panic settles back in. Jiaoqiu’s injuries were no doubt the worst, while Feixiao probably faced some drawbacks from all the fighting and madness she endured, but Moze too? I guess he did get attacked by Hoolay and his followers once the warhead realized he was spying on them, but then Moze was seen later on the Skysplitter when Feixiao at the bloody heart and he did eventually find Jiaoqiu somewhere with the help of the Trailblazer, so surely he couldn’t have been that hurt if he was running around everywhere, yeah? Perhaps exhaustion caught up with him after all the chaos, or he knows how to deal with pain rather well. Possibly both.

Why am I not surprised to hear that Feixiao is the kind of person who can’t be confined to a hospital bed. Even if she left in plain sight, I’m sure she would’ve quick enough that no one could even catch her to bring her back.

Seems the whole Yaoqing trio shares this mindset too. Moze could easily sneak out in the shadows whereas Jiaoqiu probably just walked himself out with an excuse like “I’m a healer, trust me when I say I’m fine” or something.

Oohhh buddy.. I love it when characters have different roles in status or have to act a certain way around each other but one of them tells the other to forget the formalities and just be truthful because their relationship is worth so much more than that, like yes she’s his general and he’s her healer, but I have no doubt they’ve become such close friends over the years too. Also, the way the scene doesn’t show his entire face.. god, what nice foreshadowing.

Aww sweetie nooo! Please don’t blame yourself! If anything, blame the plot. It’s like the four stars had a rough time in Penacony and now it’s the five star’s turn on the Xianzhou. And I’m sure I mentioned it before but the trio’s voice actors are all so talented and completely nailed these two story patches. The emotions are perfect.

WHAT IF I CRIED HUH?? Is that what Hoyo wants? For me to become a sobbing mess after thinking Jiaoqiu healed perfectly fine?? AAAaahh.. I’m not entirely sure if the blindness is a result of Hoolay’s attack or a side effect of the poison Jiaoqiu drank, but either way I’m so incredibly sad. Our handsome foxian has already been through hell from being Hoolay’s hostage, did we really need to take away his eyesight too?? Man.. if anything, I will say it was clever of Hoyo to make the one character who always has his eyes closed end up blind because then they wouldn’t have to change up his model at all. It might seem off-putting whenever people use his ultimate and see his eyes now though. Aah, his pretty golden eyes.. I’ll admit that they did seem a bit dull during that one scene of him all slashed up and bloody on the floor, but I didn’t think it was anything serious. More like it was an art style choice and he was so worn out from the attack and knocking at death’s door.

Tell me why I don’t believe his smile and that’s he’s only saying such a thing so Feixiao doesn’t bury herself under all the guilt she feels. Looking back now though, I can appreciate the subtle hints about his condition before Feixiao revealed it. I remember Jiaoqiu mentioning how he recognized the sound of Feixiao’s footsteps when she approached him, so pair that with how the game framed his face before in the previous shots where his eyes weren’t visible and yeah.. smart moves. Sigh.. he once left his role as a military healer to prevent himself from watching more people rush towards their death and now he’s not gonna see much of anything.

Bruh.. he faced the foxian’s worst enemy, got taken hostage by them, watched people die in front of him, got seriously attacked and purposefully drank poison at some point, yet despite all that trauma, he solely cares about how Feixiao is feeling? GOD HELP ME he’s too precious and sweet! I adore him so much and his devotion to her has me so giddy and weak. In a shipping context or not I fucking I love the bond these two have y’all.

I mean.. I guess? In exchange for losing his sight, Hoolay was definitely defeated, which grants all the foxians a big sigh of relief to finally be rid of the monster that haunted them and treated them as slaves for centuries.

More importantly than that (to me at least) is knowing that Feixiao’s moon rage was actually taken care of. Part of his ‘About Feixiao’ voice line is “I cannot leave this world before she's cured” and our man really kept his promise. I wish he didn’t have to go through such extremes to achieve one of his biggest goals in life but hey, if Jiaoqiu says he’s fine, I’ll choose to believe him. Just a little bit.

The way Moze was here the entire time and he didn’t even know… aaahh. Considering Moze was here way before Feixiao first showed up, he probably moves too quietly for Jiaoqiu to even hear him. I wanna bet that Moze left the Alchemy Commission after Jiaoqiu did just to make sure the guy didn’t get himself lost or walk into any danger.

I fucking hope they can find someone to help him! Also, I absolutely LOVE that it’s her now making a promise to find a way to heal him! All those years of Jiaoqiu stressing about finding a cure for her moon rage and Feixiao gets the chance to pay back all his efforts. Kinda surprised that Bailu couldn’t do anything about Jiaoqiu’s sight, but perhaps she doesn’t know how to or isn’t strong enough for such a thing yet? Not even Lingsha could’ve helped I guess. Who knows.

Ma’am.. I love each and every little thing about you, but can you relax? Please?? You just snuck out of the Alchemy Commission, which means you probably aren’t even full healed yet, and we’re already chatting about rushing into more battles? How about we take a break for a little bit and go enjoy the real Wardance. Sound good?

Me and Jiaoqiu sharing exactly one brain cell.

Just hearing her say “wildfire” made me miss our favorite Underworlders even more. At least we’ll get to see a whole bunch of Luka during the Wardance event.

Ah, even more name drops to taunt my hopes with. I’m still bitter we were teased with Jingliu’s return. Speaking of a certain blonde man though, can we ask him to cure Jiaoqiu’s eyes? We don’t exactly how skilled Luocha is with healing since everything about him is a giant mystery, but I think it would be a nice reason to bring him back, if only for a moment. I know he’s still locked up but whomever does eventually heal Jiaoqiu will be put on my good side.

Well, at least we finally get an idea of what our “traveling merchant” has been carrying in that coffin of his.

Having the Swarm be mentioned right before Ruan Mei.. oh dear. What kind of chaos are we in for next time there’s a mission on these ships.

Now then, I know our mad scientist was mentioned at the very beginning of the quest by Himeko regarding some fossils, then again once more towards the middle by Feixiao when she was chatting with Yukong about how the Verdant Knights found the wreckage of Whistling Flames ship, so that of course got my hopes up that we might finally learn more about Tingyun.. but I wasn’t expecting to hear her speak!! Thank heavens she’s actually alive! Whether by chance or because Ruan Mei has already.. you know, used her as a test subject, who knows. I’m leaning towards the latter option personally but regardless! I’m so thrilled for her! I’m not even that big of a Tingyun fan but my mouth was literally hung open in a huge grin when I heard her voice again. I can’t imagine how her voice actors must’ve felt being called back after so long in to give just a single line for this character again after what happened during the main story.

Speaking of powerful one liners, Feixiao receives a second one about Jiaoqiu after you complete the entire mission. Ain’t that grand.

Behold! I’m finally done with all this rambling and I can finally start the Wardance event! I’ve already seen some characters and cutscenes that I’m excited to learn more about. I do enjoy Luka but hopefully I can just breeze through it and not take an abundant amount of screenshots this time.

#honkai star rail #stelle #lingsha #feixiao #moze #jiaoqiu #gameplay #revs rambles

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a-court-of-fics-and-errors · 5 months ago

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Keep Moving Forwards, Part 30

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Azriel x Reader Fic

Find other parts here: Master List

To follow this fic, follow tag "Keep Moving Forwards Fic" or comment to be tagged in future parts.

Word Count: 2.7K

Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.

In the days that followed, you did your best to brush off Azriel's lingering looks, rationalizing away the soft touches he gave your shoulders when you seemed nervous, or the small bowls of berries he brought when you appeared too lost in thought to eat. You couldn't let yourself get attached again, and you most certainly wouldn’t allow another person to be harmed because of you, even unintentionally. Each night, Azriel still crawled into bed with you, his warm body pressed against yours as you stared wide-eyed at the moonlit balcony, the gentle glow casting a silver sheen over the room. You’d feel his unconscious hand slide up your midsection until he held you against him, and while you yearned to sneak away to the other side of the bed, you couldn’t help but melt into the warmth he provided.

As the weeks turned into months, summer gracefully gave way to fall. The trees on the surrounding mountains ignited in a breathtaking display of oranges, yellows, and reds, painting a vibrant picture against the crisp, azure sky. The air carried a hint of earthy musk and the sweet decay of fallen leaves. You had started visiting Titania twice a week, giving her a break from the little ones who ran amuck in the house, barging into rooms without a second thought. The once daunting pleasure house, now a warm refuge, had become a second home. You became acquainted with the other residents, many of whom had children of their own, though none had been around during your earlier years with your mother.

Azriel often accompanied you on these visits, doing his best to navigate the admiring glances from both the female and male companions with a mixture of amusement and discomfort. Titania delighted in nudging you about how Azriel followed you like a lost puppy, her red, pointed fingernails tapping against your arm as she teased about the longing looks he cast your way and how he would talk about you to the children. You always rolled your eyes at her comments, though secretly they made your heart flutter.

Back at the House of Wind, the great hall was a hive of activity as preparations for the Autumnal Ball reached their peak. Nesta had taken charge, orchestrating the event with the precision of a general, her frustration mounting as Cassian and Rhysand debated over the shade of burnt orange for the decorations. The grand hall transformed under her meticulous care, wreaths of autumnal leaves strung about the room as though the guests would be dancing beneath a golden canopy. Faelight candles twinkled among the leaves, casting a warm, golden glow over the entire hall.

The Autumnal Ball, you knew, was more than just a lavish party. It was part of a delicate and ongoing effort to mend relations between the Autumn and Night Courts. Tensions had simmered for centuries, rooted in old grievances and power struggles. Eris, the Autumn Court’s heir, had agreed to this event as a gesture of goodwill, Rhysand hoping to bridge the gap and foster a fragile alliance. The symbolism was everywhere: the blending of traditional Autumn Court foods with the Night Court’s celestial touches, the mingling of courtly guests who had once been wary of one another. The ball was a dance of diplomacy as much as it was a celebration, a careful balancing act where every detail mattered.

The preparations had been intense. Nesta had demanded the finest bakers in Velaris learn to craft Autumn Court pastries and savory treats, adding a “Night Court spin” to each. The end result was a delectable spread featuring spiced apple tarts dusted with stardust sugar, warmed brie and cranberry compote, and no shortage of spiked ciders directly from Autumn Court vineyards and orchards, courtesy of Lucien. The scent of freshly baked goods and mulled spices filled the hall, mingling with the faint, earthy aroma of the fall leaves, creating an intoxicating blend.

You spent the afternoon assisting Nesta with the final adjustments—redraping tables that seemed no different to you after each attempt, readjusting punch bowls, and repositioning leaves for a more “rustic look,” as Nesta put it. You hadn’t expected to attend the ball, content with simply being part of the preparations. After all, you were just a guest in the House of Wind with no official standing in the Night Court.

But as the final touches were made, Nesta pulled you aside, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “So, how are you planning to do your hair for the ball?” she asked.

You stuttered, taken aback. “I didn’t realize…I mean, I didn’t think I was invited.”

Nesta’s face softened as realization dawned. “Of course you’re invited,” she said, almost scolding herself. “I’ll have a dress sent up to your room. Just do your hair however you like, and be ready to have some fun tonight.” She flashed you a foxlike smile, her eyes twinkling as she winked and scurried off to handle last-minute details.

—

You sat at your dressing table, wrestling with a particularly stubborn knot in your hair. The door creaked open behind you, and Azriel’s head appeared, his eyes reflecting the soft faelight from the room. You caught his gaze in the mirror as you tugged at the knot, wincing at the unpleasant “schrip” sound of the brush pulling free. Azriel’s face mirrored your grimace.

“Do you need help with that?” he asked gently, stepping into the room.

You sighed, your fingers running through your slightly damp hair. “No, I think I got it.”

Azriel nodded, Just checking in on you. Heard you got blindsided with an invite.”

You rolled your eyes playfully as you managed to smooth out the last of the knots. “A little bit.”

He gave you an easy, albeit apologetic smile. “Mind if I come in?”

You nodded, watching in the mirror as he slipped into the room. The suit he wore was all black, with spirals of sparkling blue embroidery swirling down the lapels, the same signature blue as his siphons. The polished shine of his dress shoes clicked against the floor as he dropped into the sitting chair beside the dressing table, slumping down with a casual grace, his fingers idly massaging his temple.

“Nervous?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Not at all,” you replied, though your voice betrayed you as another knot gave way with a wince.

Azriel chuckled lightly, standing to move behind you. “Your heartbeat’s going a million miles an hour.” You ripped another stubborn knot from your hair. “Want me to take over?”

Reluctantly, you handed him the brush, leaning back slightly as Azriel took it. He began at the ends of your hair, working his way up with gentle, careful strokes. His fingers brushed against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. “These things,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, “they’re just posturing.”

You looked at him in the mirror, noting how his focused gaze made his eyes seem softer, more earnest. “Nesta thinks this one’s important,” you replied.

Azriel’s brows lifted slightly as he continued to brush. “They are important. But a lot of it’s just about ruffling feathers and showing off wealth.”

“But we do care, right?” you questioned, your eyes meeting his in the reflection.

His hands paused for a moment as he pondered the question. “We definitely care. But I think there are better ways to handle diplomacy than by throwing parties.”

You quipped, “Is it just because you have to wear a suit and can’t wear your training clothes?”

Azriel’s eyes flicked to your reflection, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “That’s part of it.” He gave you a gentle bop on the crown of your head with the brush, making you feign a greater deal of pain than it actually caused.

“Thanks,” you said as he handed the brush back to you.

Azriel sighed, settling back into the sitting chair, his knee bobbing up and down. You noticed the anxious energy in the motion, a tell you had come to recognize.

“What do I need to know?” you asked, and Azriel’s brow furrowed in mild confusion. “I mean, about the whole court ball thing,” you clarified.

Azriel shrugged, “Just chat with courtiers. Smile. Shake hands if someone offers. Feign interest in stories that bore you.”

“Is there anyone I should or shouldn’t talk to? Things I should or shouldn’t mention?”

Azriel grinned, “Maybe don’t insult anyone to their face.”

“Wasn’t planning on it, but thanks,” you replied, rising and wandering to the closet. Nesta had brought a dress into your room, wrapped in a dressing gown bag. You hadn’t yet had the heart to unzip it. Running your hands down the front of the bag, you sighed, pulling it from the hanger and trudging into the closet to change.

“Just stay close to me,” Azriel hollered from the room. “I’ll help you through it.”

“I don’t know why I’m going at all,” you called back, letting your robe drop from your shoulders.

“Why wouldn’t you?”

As you unzipped the bag, your breath caught in your throat at the sight of the gown. You exhaled slowly, pulling the dress from the bag and hanging it in front of you. “Just seems like I wouldn’t really need to be there,” you said, stepping into the gown.

“Well, Nesta wants you to come,” Azriel replied.

You slipped your arms into the sleeves, trying unsuccessfully to pull the zipper up behind you. You huffed, stepping out of the closet into the main room. “I need some help,” you said, showing Azriel the zipper you couldn’t reach.

But Azriel didn’t respond immediately. His eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight of you, his mouth agape.

“Too much?” you inquired, glancing down at the iridescent blue silk of the gown. Embedded with small stones that mimicked the night sky, it flowed in a gradient of burnt orange, deep red, and gold as it cascaded to the floor. The bodice, a deep midnight blue, was adorned with delicate embroidered patterns of autumn leaves and moonlit branches in metallic golds and silvers. The sleeves were sheer gauze that clung to your upper arms before billowing down, catching the light like mist.

Azriel blinked, shaking his head as if to clear it. “No, no,” he stammered. “It’s gorgeous. You—you look breathtaking.”

You let out a breathy laugh, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. “It’s definitely more elaborate than anything I’ve worn before.”

“You make it look effortless,” Azriel replied, his voice soft with admiration.

You peered over your shoulder. “Zip me?”

Azriel quickly moved behind you, his touch gentle as he pulled the zipper up slowly. His eyes traced the small of your back to your shoulder blades, lingering for a moment before meeting your gaze in the mirror.

“I’m glad you like it,” you said, running your fingers through your hair.

Azriel glanced down at his own suit, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve certainly outshone me.”

You rolled your eyes, moving to sit at the dressing table, pulling on a small necklace of silver moons. Azriel watched you, then suddenly exclaimed, “Wait one second!”

You paused, turning to see him hurrying out of the room, his shoes clicking on the floor. He returned moments later, holding a small jewelry box. “Here,” he said, extending it to you.

You looked between him and the box. “What is it?”

“Just a necklace I think would look nice with the dress.”

You took the box, opening it to reveal a simple silver chain with a crescent moon pendant, hugging a small blue gem similar in hue to Azriel’s siphons. Your mouth dropped slightly. “This is beautiful.”

Azriel smiled, a light blush dusting his cheeks. “I’m glad you like it.”

Shaking your head lightly, you murmured, “I can’t accept this. It’s too much—”

“It’s nothing, just something I’ve had lying around,” Azriel interrupted, though his voice held a note of hesitation.

Not wanting to disappoint him, you smiled up at him. “Thank you,” you whispered.

Azriel’s eyes softened as he helped you with the necklace, his scarred fingers clasping it gently around your neck. The pendant fell against your skin, the blue gem catching the light. His touch lingered on your shoulders for a moment, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror.

“You really do look beautiful,” Azriel noted quietly.

You smiled at him, feeling warmth spread through your chest. “Thank you,” you replied, even more softly.

Azriel seemed to take you in, his gaze filled with pride and tenderness as he saw the transformation in you—the once broken figure now standing strong and radiant. His eyes shimmered with unspoken emotions, reflecting the light of the faelight.

“I should go check on Nesta,” Azriel finally said, “Make sure Cassian is still alive.”

You chuckled softly. “Good plan. I need to finish up anyway.”

Azriel gave you one last smile, his hand resting on your shoulder in a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll come back up in an hour and we can walk down together?”

You nodded, your heart swelling with gratitude and something deeper you couldn’t quite name. He squeezed your shoulder again, his fingers brushing against your hair as he turned to leave, his heels clicking softly down the hall. You looked into the mirror and for the first time in a long while, you almost liked what you saw.

To my consistent, readers, I'm sorry for the lapse in posting yesterday, I've had some family stuff come up that I had to take care of and writing took a bit of a backburner. Hoping to continue to post regularly from here on out! @thatacotargirl @mcuamerica @lilah-asteria @florabelll @fightmedraco @marvelbros-oneshots @mariahoedt @quinzzelx @romantasyreader28 @minnieoo @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @annabethgranger123 @krowiathemythologynerd @scatteredstardustt @romantacyreader28 @caroline-books @slytherintaco @sevikas-whore @sidthedollface2 @405rry @sleepylunarwolf @acourtofbatboydreams @quiettuba @julesofvolterra @skylarkalchemist @darling006 @rhysandorian @loglady00

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