#I esteem to be as fun as these ladies when I get that old

[cressidagrey]

Looked to the Sky - Chapter 1

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was, however, Azriel‘s mate with her own mysterious, untrained powers.

Also known as: Azriel tries to court his mate the human way.

Warnings: 

THIS IS THE LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE SEQUEL! SO READ THAT FIRST IF YOU WANNA READ THIS ONE OTHERWISE THIS MAKES NO SENSE!

Elain Bashing, Low Self Esteem, Azriel is kind an idiot, Rhys is for once a good older brother, and without @k-godling this would have never happened.

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

Azriel was currently regretting his life choices that had brought him to this moment. 

“Wow,” Cassian drawled as he stared at the wall in Azriel‘s room in the House of Wind that was covered in…research. 

Intelligence. Information. Whatever one wanted to call it. 

And Azriel was ready to rip his hair out. 

“I did it all wrong,” he growled, slamming the dusty old tome the shadows had procured for him closed…only for them to take it out of his hands and open it up to check for themselves. 

“What did you do wrong?” Cassian asked as he stepped nearer to the wall, staring at all the things Azriel had pinned up there. 

It was a complete and utter mess

“This said that I should have given Eira a gift when I made my first courting overture.“

What kind of mate was he, when he couldn’t even follow the bloody rules of human men for her? 

He had been supposed to procure a gift before even asking her to let him court her. He should have started with that gift. Actually no, they would have been supposed to dance together at a ball, then he should have made that decision to court her, then he should have gotten the first gift and then…

“Well, you could argue that since your shadows bought her things, you did it?“ Cassian suggested and Azriel growled.

“That’s not the same,“ he snapped. “I am supposed to give her a gift that shows my deep affection and appreciation of who she is as a person…What in the world am I supposed to give her?“

Cassian chuckled at Azriel’s frustration, stepping closer to the wall and peering at the various items pinned up.

“You’re overthinking this, you know?“ he said, a smirk on his face. “Just give her something that’s meaningful to you and her, something that shows her how important she is to you.“

Azriel growled. This was not helpful. "Also how is a pearl necklace a show of deep affection and appreciation?" he asked Cassian. Cassian just stared at him. "That was one of the first suggestions the book had," he said with a sigh. The book about human courtship rituals. Well, one of them at least. It was better to get his information from more than one source after all.

Cassian crossed his arms over his chest, his smirk only widening. "Well, apparently humans think that something shiny and expensive is the way to go," he teased. "You’re not exactly giving her a ring yet, so you could consider it a placeholder."

Azriel's eyes darkened. "I don’t want a placeholder," he growled. "I want something real. Something that shows her how much she means to me, not just how much I can spend on her."

"Could it be that you are taking this a little bit too seriously?" Cassian said carefully.

Azriel bristled at Cassian’s comment. “Of course not,” he said sharply. “This is Eira. My mate. This isn’t like some casual fling I’ve had for a little fun. This is different, and I won't just let it go without putting the effort in that she deserves.”

Cassian held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I know, I know,” he said, a slight hint of amusement in his voice. “Believe me, I’ve never seen you so worked up over a female before. It’s just…you’re acting as if the fate of the entire world rests on this courtship gift.”

Well, it did. The fate of his entire world. The fate of his children. He needed to get this right.

“You’re being dramatic,” Cassian said, shaking his head. “It’s not like the gift is going to ruin everything. You’re acting like if you don’t get this right, the whole idea of you and Eira being mates will just poof into thin air.”

He growled in annoyance. 

“Are you trying to court my sister or kill her?” Nesta's voice came from the doorway, her arms crossed as she stared at his wall.

Azriel whipped around to see Nesta standing in the doorway. His irritation deepened at her unexpected intrusion.

"Court her, obviously," he grumbled.

Nesta sighed. "“This is obsessive, Az. Also creepy," she told him drily. "You are approaching this like Eira is the King of Hybern and not your mate."

Azriel let out an exasperated growl. He wasn't obsessed; he was just being thorough. He had never cared about anyone as much as he did Eira, and he didn't want to mess this up.

"I’m simply doing my due diligence," he replied, trying to sound as firm and confident as possible. "I won’t fail her. I won't.”

Nesta rolled her eyes at Azriel’s comment. “Then stop acting like she’s some adversary to be conquered and start treating her like your mate already,” she said. “This is about your love for her, not your obsession to control every little detail.”

Cassian snorted, chuckling. “Only you, Az,” he chortled. 

Azriel shot Cassian a dark look, clearly not amused by the comment. “This is not a laughing matter, Cassian,” he said through clenched teeth. “This is serious. I need to get this right, and I can’t afford to mess it up.”

"How about you start with what you know about her? What are her hobbies?" Nesta suggested.

"I am not buying her needles or a shovel or a rolling pin. Or a toy for Nyx," AAzriel responded immediately. He had already gone through all her hobbies: Sewing, gardening for fruits and vegetables and cooking and baking.

Cassian let out a snort, clearly amused by Azriel’s response. “Why not? Those could all be very useful gifts,” he teased. “Especially the rolling pin, I bet she could beat someone over the head with it. You know, for that assassin instinct of hers.”

"Or I could borrow it and hit you with it," Nesta muttered under her breath.

Cassian chuckled at Nesta’s comment. “I’d like to see you try, Nes-“ he began to reply, but was cut off as Azriel growled at them both.

“Enough. I don’t need you two bickering.” He massaged his temples, trying to hold back the headache that was starting to form

"Well, doesn't Eira sing?" Cassian suggested.

Azriel paused slightly and he thought for a moment, recalling a memory of hearing Eira singing softly to herself.

"Yes," he said quietly. "She does. But that doesn't help me at all unless you have an idea in that thick skull of yours."

"She used to play the harp," Nesta said quietly. “Well, not the dead trove harp. A real, human harp,” she clarified.  

Azriel's interest was piqued. "She plays harp?" he asked, turning his attention to Nesta. "In all the time we’ve been together, I’ve never heard her mention that."

"We all learned some kind of instruments. It was vital for a well-rounded education. She was the only one who enjoyed it," Nesta explained.

Azriel thought for a moment. That actually sounded ideal. His shadows immediately perked up at the idea, starting to whisper amongst themselves.

"A harp…" he mused. "A harp could be perfect. If I can manage to find one that's good enough."

Cassian chuckled. "You'll probably spend the next year researching harps, won’t you?" he teased.

"I don't have time for that," Azriel responded.

Cassian rolled his eyes. "Sure, you don’t," he said dryly. "That’s why you’ve been holed up in this room for the past three days researching things humans consider romantic. I bet your research for this is more extensive than your missions."

“She's more important than a mission," Azriel said evenly. "Also, Hybern was less terrifying."

"Go buy her a harp, Az. Alternatively, if you want her to start crying, buy her a kitten," Nesta said with a shrug. "Though maybe not...Though that will only live a decade and then she’ll be heartbroken."

"Why should it die that quickly?" he asked Nesta, furrowing his brows.

Nesta gave him a deadpan look. "Have you never met a cat before, Azriel?" she said. "That’s how long kittens live. A decade, at most. And that's not even considering the time it takes a cat to grow from a kitten to an adult. You’ll be lucky if Eira gets fifteen years."

"Magical cats live...a very long time," Cassian disagreed.

Nesta stared at Cassian. “How long do magical cats live?” she demanded. 

"Well, theoretically forever," Cassian said with a shrug. “Unless they are killed by a predator of course.”

Azriel sighed. He could see where this was going. This was one of those decisions where there was no clear-cut right path.

Cassian, sensing his hesitation, chuckled. “Come on, Az. Where’s that ‘mysterious broody spy’ everyone loves?”

"Kitten or Harp?" he muttered.

"Just buy her one and keep the other for her birthday," Nesta suggested.

Azriel shot Nesta a glare. “Stop thinking so far ahead when I can barely decide on the first one,” he muttered, making her laugh. 

Cassian just smirked. “That’s rich, considering how much work you’ve put into this entire thing.”

*******

Eira had always liked being outside. 

When they had still been in that godforsaken cottage, Eira had taken her mending outside...had doted on that little patch of horrible earth that had only ever managed to grow a couple of potatoes, carrots, radishes and green beans...so many green beans...

But she had loved it. Even the small, withered things she had been able to grow there, it had been her tiny corner outside. She had prised her hands with dirt, tended to those potatoes and carrots, and had felt alive. Now she was terrified to even look outside the window.

Now, Eira would have loved to simply lock herself in her closet, because there was no window there...to go hide there, because maybe there she would be safe…

It was irrational, she knew that. She couldn’t help it. Every time she looked out of a window, she saw them again. Saw these horrible dark uniforms…saw the faces of the men she had killed. She saw them again and her chest burned in response, her stomach turning, bile rising in her throat.

She couldn’t help it. 

"It's healing very well," Madja told her, weathered fingertips trailing over the closed gash just underneath her breast. Eira stared at the ceiling, wishing herself far, far away. It had healed well. In just a few days, it had closed, just a thin red line reminding her of what had happened.

A thin red line and the feeling of lightning crackling underneath her skin. 

Eira winced as Madja touched her tender skin, the scar still sore to the touch. Even with her accelerated healing, it would take some time before she would fully recover.

"Are you still experiencing any pain?" the elderly healer asked kindly, her eyes studying Eira closely. Eira took a deep breath, trying to find her voice. The pain was the least of her worries. She had felt worse. So much worse.

"No, not much," she replied quietly, her eyes fluttering shut. "Just a little...some twinges, here and there."

Madja nodded, her expression a bit sceptical. She had probably seen hundreds, maybe thousands of patients in her life, and she could likely tell when they weren't being entirely truthful. "Are you sure?" she pressed gently.

Eira’s face twisted into a grimace. She didn't want to be....she didn't want to be weak. She didn't want to...She had seen how Cassian's wings had been shredded, how Azriel had an ash bolt shot in his chest...and neither of them had complained. And she...she had a single knife stuck inside her and it felt like…

“Eira,” Feyre said, her voice taking on an edge.

She knew that Feyre was right, she knew that she should be honest with the healer. But saying it out loud, voicing her fears and anxieties, would just make her...so pathetic.

Still, she took a deep breath and looked at Madja, meeting her gaze. "It...It hurts," she admitted quietly. "More than just...it hurts, whenever I move."

Feyre squeezed Eira's hand tightly. Madja nodded, her eyes studying Eira with a careful, almost calculating gaze, before it softened, a flicker of sympathy passing over her features.

"I suspected as much," the healer said bluntly. "A wound like that can heal on the surface, but sometimes the internal damage is more severe than it appears." Eira‘s breath hitched. The internal damage. The internal damage she had done to herself when she had killed these males…when she had…burned them alive. 

"You should rest," Madja said quietly. "You need to give your body time to heal completely, or you'll risk making the damage worse...you can leave the room and sit outside...but you should not do anything strenuous like gardening or training or whatever else you normally get up to. Though the sunshine outside would do you well," Madja pointed out.

Sunshine...outside. Outside. Alone the thought made Eira break out in cold sweat.

Her breathing turned shallow at the thought of being outside. She knew she couldn't stay in this room forever, but...the thought of being outside...Alone...In the open air, with no protective walls around her...It made her heart race. She could feel Feyre's worried gaze on her.

Madja also studied Eira carefully. "No training," she said pointedly, "but you should try to go outside for a little...Sunshine and fresh air will do you good. It's good for healing."

"I...I’ll try," she managed to choke out, her voice barely more than a whisper.

She didn’t want to go outside. She didn’t want to leave her room.

Madja finished, and Feyre went to bring her to the door…leaving Eira alone. She forced herself to sit up, to pull her nightgown back together…and then escaped into the bathing chamber. No windows. No windows meant she was safe. Once the door to the bathing chamber closed firmly behind her, Eira allowed herself to finally break. She sagged against the door, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. Alone. No windows. Safe.

She was vaguely aware of tears falling down her face. It seemed like that was all she ever did these days, cry herself into exhaustion. She didn’t even know how often she had woken up that particular night…how often the shadows had come to soothe her back to sleep. The shadows came every time Eira awoke with a start, her heart pounding or tears streaming down her face. They were always there. 

They would whisper to her, wrapping around her like a comforting blanket, soothing her back to sleep.

You are alright, they whispered now too. You are safe.  She wondered if they didn’t have anything better to do. No more important people to spy on. Why don’t you wash your face? the suggested gently. Water. Face.

Wash her face, repeated Eira mentally, slowly gathering her thoughts.

The shadows were right, of course. She should wash her face. Her eyes looked as tired and red-rimmed as she felt. Perhaps washing her face would...would help her feel somewhat better, even if only a little.

She took a deep breath, as she dried her face on the towel the shadows found for her…and then they fluttered around her like a swarm of excited butterflies, bringing her a new nightgown and dressing gown. She took a moment to examine them.  

The nightgown was a much darker colour than her usual ones, a deep, rich blue instead of the usual whites and creams. She looked at the dressing gown, taking note of its heavier fabric. The shadows were right to have chosen it - the nights were getting chilly, after all.

But still… “Did you steal it from Feyre?” She asked weakly, even as they helped her shrug out of the old dressing gown. They let her deal with her nightgown, never touching her naked skin anywhere but her hands and face if they could help it, as they drew the new one over her body…and then stuck silky soft slippers on her feet.

The shadows didn't respond to her question, and for a moment Eira wondered if they even heard her. But she had no time to dwell on it further: they were already working on her hair, untangling her braid with deft, careful movements and brushing it out. They started to braid it again, a new, different braid than the usual ones she wore, pulling it back from her face. The braiding was precise and quick as if they had done this many times before.

“How did you learn that?“ she wondered quietly.

The shadows paused for a moment, almost as if they were contemplating her question. They continued braiding her hair though, a little faster than before.

Practice, they whispered, their voices low and quiet, barely above a whisper.

Eira let out a small huff. Sometimes, she had the distinct impression that the shadows were purposefully not answering her questions, or giving her a non-answer, as they had just done. But she didn’t have the energy to press them for an answer, no matter how much she wanted to hear one.

So instead, she just leaned against the sink quietly, letting the shadows tend to her hair.

You should go outside. The sun is shining. The healer said it would be good for you.

No. She didn’t want to go outside. She didn’t want to…She wanted to stay in this room, in this safe, dark and windowless room…

She didn’t want sunshine. Didn’t want fresh air. 

It would do you good, the shadows continued, their voices low and soothing. Go outside. Sit in the sun.

“I can’t.“ she forced out.

The shadows paused in their work, just for a moment.

You can, they insisted firmly, their voices growing almost persuasive. It’s good for you. You will feel better once you go.

She highly doubted that. Her hands turned clammy at only the thought.  As soon as the shadows finished braiding her hair, they flitted away, making a beeline for the door. Eira tried to call out, to stop them, to tell them that no, she couldn’t go, but the words died in her throat, the door opening before she could even try.

Rhys was there, standing in the middle of her room.

She had no clue what he even wanted from her. She had spent the last couple of days…resting. Sleeping half the day away, which wasn’t helped by her nightmares at seemingly every damn moment…Nesta and Feyre had kept her company when they had. She hadn’t so much as sneak a peek at Azriel since their…talk two days ago. Though his shadows were a constant companion of hers, doting on her like a cat would do to a sole kitten. 

Now…Eira’s heart thudded in her chest at the sight of him. He didn’t look angry, but he didn’t look...friendly either. He just looked at her with watchful, careful eyes as she stared back at him, frozen like a deer before a hunter.

The silence was thick, stretched thin like a rope that was about to snap. Eira bit her lip, unable to tear her gaze away from Rhys’ searching stare. She could feel a sheen of sweat on her skin, her heart thudding so hard she was surprised it hadn’t burst out of her chest yet.

Her knees trembled, and she nearly pitched forward, if the shadows hadn’t caught her. The shadows appeared out of thin air, wrapping themselves around her like a silky, dark blanket as she swayed on her feet. They held her up, stopping her from falling to the ground.

Rhys was suddenly at her side, wrapping his arms around her as well, his hands warm and firm against her cold, clammy skin.

“Shhh, I got you, little one,” he shushed her. Rhys’ voice was soft, gentle, and soothing, his hands firm around her. Eira sagged against him gratefully, her body trembling and her breath coming in short gasps.

“It’s alright. I won’t let you fall,” he murmured, as he scooped her up, easily carrying her like she weighed nothing.

She thought she probably didn’t. Just because he didn’t have arms the size of tree trunks like Cassian did, didn’t mean that Rhys wasn’t an Illyrian warrior trained in his own right. 

He had absolutely no problem with just swinging her up like she did to Nyx. 

“Bed or do you want to brave the garden?” he asked her carefully. “Madja said some fresh air would be good for you.”

Of course, he already knew. 

She swallowed, her heart racing.

Bed was safe, comfortable, and familiar. She wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the day there, under the covers and away from the world. To go outside...to face the wide-open sky...that was a terrifying prospect.

“Bed,” she whispered.

Rhys nodded, carrying her over to the bed and gently placing her on it. The shadows fluffed the pillows behind her, letting her lean against them in a comfortable position.

She expected her brother-in-law to disappear again, though she had no clue why he had even come to see her in the first place. Didn’t he have something more important to do? Like, run this court maybe? 

But he didn’t disappear again. Instead, he sat down next to her, not touching her, just staying close enough that she could feel his presence. “Madja said the garden would be good for you,” Rhys insisted quietly. He wasn’t looking at her as he spoke, his gaze fixed on the wall across the room. “Fresh air, sunshine...she said it would help you recover faster,” he continued, his voice neutral.

Recover. Recover what? Recover that bit of her that had died on that playground when she had killed these men without even thinking about it? She had taken multiple lives. And she was just supposed to be fine with it?!

Eira chewed on her lower lip. She knew what the healer had said, but...the thought of going outside, of being away from the safety of these four walls, was enough to send her heart racing in her chest.

“I...” she started, her voice trembling. “I can’t.”

Rhys turned to look at her then, his expression carefully neutral. “Why not?” he asked, his voice quiet but firm. ”It’s just the garden,” he said evenly.

Eira felt a flicker of irritation rise in her chest at his words.

”it was just the playground,” she shot back shakily. Rhys visibly froze, his eyes widening as he flinched visibly. She could see the pain in his eyes, the hurt and the guilt...but she didn’t care. She couldn’t care.

“Eira...” he started, his voice suddenly hoarse.

“I can’t,” she whispered. She knew it was stupid. She knew. But she couldn’t help it. It must be ridiculous to him, to a 500-year-old warrior that she was afraid of facing the outside but she couldn’t help it. She was utterly terrified. 

“You need to heal,” he said quietly, his voice gentle but firm. “You need the sunshine, the fresh air. You can’t just stay locked up in here forever...” She could. 

She really could. 

If it stopped her from feeling like dying, she would stay right here for the rest of her life. 

“What…What is it that scares you?” Rhys asked her gently.  Her breath hitched in her throat at his question.

She opened her mouth, trying to find the words to explain how terrified she was, how the very thought of leaving this room filled her with a sense of dread that was nearly paralysing… “I don’t want it to happen again,” she choked out.

Rhys’ face darkened at her words, his eyes filling with anger and pain.

“It won’t,” he said, his voice tight. “I won’t let it. You’re safe, Eira. No one will hurt you in that garden. I swear.”

Eira wanted to believe him, wanted desperately to cling to his words like a lifeline...but she couldn’t. The fear lodged in her chest like a rock, refusing to be dislodged.

“You can’t promise that,” she whispered, her voice small and shaky.

“Yes, I can,” Rhys cut her off. “You’ll go outside and I’ll be right there. And if any rogue darkbringers suddenly show up, I’ll mist them with a single thought,” he promised her fiercely. “It won’t happen again.”

Her breath caught in her throat, her heart beating furiously in her chest. It sounded so easy when he said it like that, so simple. He would keep her safe, keep her protected...

“Let’s just try it,“ Rhys said softly. “We can go back inside if you can’t stand it, little one.”

Eira chewed on her lower lip, her fingers trembling in her lap.

Just try it. We can go back inside if you can’t stand it. 

Those words gave her a small flicker of hope, a lifeline to cling to. Eira took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to steady her nerves. “Alright,” she agreed weakly.

Rhys smiled at her words, the expression strained but genuine. He stood up from the bed, holding out his hand to her.

“Come on then,” he said gently. “Let’s go sit in the garden.”

Eira swallowed, her entire body tense with anxiety. She looked at his outstretched hand, feeling her heart race at the thought of taking it.

For a moment, she couldn’t move, her entire body frozen and immobile. But then, with trembling fingers, she reached out and slowly took his hand.

Rhys’ hand was warm, strong and firm around hers. He held her hand gently, as if he were afraid she might break, and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“That’s it,” he murmured gently. “We can go as slowly as you need.”

She nodded weakly, her knuckles turning white as she gripped his hand tightly. Slowly, hesitantly, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Her body trembled as she stood up, her feet feeling unsteady on the floor.

Rhys was there, hovering close to her side, supporting her gently as she took her first shaky steps away from the bed. The shadows flitted around her like dark, flickering butterflies, whispering reassuring words that she could barely hear over the pounding of her heart.

“Eira…how about you let me carry you?”

Her breath hitched at the suggestion, her heart skipping a beat.

Her first instinct was to refuse, to shake her head and insist on walking on her own. But her legs felt like jelly, her steps unsteady and shaky...and she hated the thought of looking weak, of being lifted like some helpless child.

But as much as she hated it, she knew she would crumble if she walked on her own, her legs giving out like a newborn fawn.

So, with a small, defeated nod, she agreed.

“I…alright,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Rhys wasted no time in scooping her up in his arms, lifting her with ease. She tried not to let it bother her, not to think about how pathetic she must look, being cradled like a child.

The shadows fluttered closer, their dark forms brushing against her skin as they whispered gentle words of reassurance.

You’re doing well. one of them whispered in her ear, its voice low and soothing. The High Lord is right here. You’re safe.

"It will be fine," Rhys promised her as he carried her down the stairs, making no appearance that the extra weight of her in his arms bothered him in any way. "Just outside. We'll sit on the terrace, and nothing bad will happen."

Eira clung to his words like a lifeline, her hands trembling as they clutched at his shoulder.

She tried to ignore the way her heart raced, the way her blood thundered in her ears...she tried to focus on Rhys’ voice, on his words assuring her that it would be fine.

The terrace wasn’t far, it seemed. Soon enough, they were there, the doors swinging open silently as they approached.

Outside. Out of the relative safety of the house. Outside.

Eira clenched her teeth, the panic rising in her chest.

The air around them was fresh and crisp, the faint scent of grass and trees filling her nostrils. The sun streamed down, its warmth caressing her skin...and yet, Eira felt cold, her breath coming in small, shallow gasps as her heart thumped against her chest.

The wide-open space, the vastness of the sky, was suddenly so much more overwhelming. It felt like it was pressing down on her like it was closing in...

She heard a deep rumble of thunder, could feel something static-y in the air...felt the taste of metal in her mouth...

"Take a deep breath, Little One," Rhys soothed her. "It's alright. We are there already..." Just a moment later, he put her down onto the soft cushion that covered the lounge area on one side of the terrace...a place where she had often laid down Nyx for his afternoon nap this summer...

The plush cushions were a familiar comfort, their softness reminding her of the times she had spent with her nephew…

She tried to focus on that, on the memories of those times instead of the overwhelming feeling of being outside...but as she looked around, as she took in the sheer vastness of the sky stretching out in every direction, it was almost too much.

Her breath came in short, sharp gasps, and she found herself clinging to Rhys’ arm, her fingers digging into his skin.

"You are alright," he promised her again. She knew it was ridiculous. He must think she was utterly mental that being outside scared her, overwhelmed her into silent fear.

Eira was sure he must think her completely insane: Scared of being outside, of being in the open...it was ridiculous. It was pathetic.

But she couldn’t help it, no matter how much she tried to calm herself down, to shove her fear back down. It had a hold on her, a tight grip that she couldn’t shake no matter how hard she tried.

"It's alright to be afraid," Rhys said quietly. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about."

Eira tried to believe his words, tried to take comfort in them. But it was hard, so hard. Her fear felt so stupid, so silly, so pointless.

She should be able to handle being outside, shouldn’t be so terrified of it…and yet here she was, clinging to Rhys like a frightened child, her heart thundering in her chest. The High Lord of the Night Court had volunteered to be her protector and she was still utterly and completely...terrified.

The shadows fluttered around her, sensing her fear, her terror...whispering softly in her ear, trying to calm her, to soothe her. But even their attempts couldn’t stop the way her body trembled, the way her heart raced.

Rhys wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer to his side. His touch was gentle but firm, a silent reassurance that he was there, that she wasn’t alone.

"You have every right to be afraid, Eira. That doesn't make you weak, little sister. It only means that you went through something traumatic and you haven't fully dealt with that yet," Rhys said softly. "I still wake up from nightmares. So does your sister. Cassian, Azriel...all of us deal with that as well."

"I am pathetic, " she whimpered.

Rhys’ expression darkened at her words, his jaw clenching.

“No, you’re not,” he said, his voice firm. “You’re the farthest thing from pathetic, Eira. Some fully fledged warriors would have taken one look at these Darkbringers and ran. They wouldn’t have stood their ground.” He huffed, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t you ever call yourself that again? Do you understand me?”

"In what world am I brave?" Eira asked weakly, her hands still trembling, fear settled in some kind of panic in the back of her brain, leaving her utterly spent and exhausted.

"You threw yourself between my son and a knife, Eira," Rhys told her drily. "In what world isn't that brave?"

Eira’s breath hitched in her throat as he spoke, and her mind suddenly filled with the memory of that day.

She had done that, hadn’t she? She had thrown herself in front of a knife for Nyx, not caring what happened to herself as long as the baby was safe… For Nyx, she had done that. She hadn't thought twice about it either.

But it had been for a good cause, in a moment of crisis. This…this was just her being weak. This was her reduced to a trembling, blubbering mess, too scared to do anything but cling to Rhys like a child for comfort. How did that make her brave?

"I know it doesn't feel that way right now, but it does get easier," Rhys promised her softly.

She wanted to believe him, she really did. But right now, it was hard. The fear felt so overwhelming, so all-consuming, that it was hard to imagine ever feeling anything else.

Eira took a deep, shaky breath, her body trembling as she tried to control her emotions. But despite her attempts to steady herself, she couldn’t seem to calm down. Her heart raced, her hands clammy, her breath coming in short, anxious gasps.

“It’s alright,” Rhys said softly, his voice reassuring. “I’m right here. You’re safe.”

The shadows fluttered around them,  brushing against her hands in a soothing caress.

Slowly, slowly, the fear that had consumed her began to ease, the frantic thumping of her heart returning to a more normal rhythm. She took a deep, shaky breath, feeling her body relax slightly in Rhys’ embrace.

"I am scared all the time," he continued softly.

Eira felt a flicker of surprise at his admission, her eyes widening slightly. She had never, ever considered that Rhys might be afraid. He was so powerful, so confident and in control...it almost seemed impossible to believe.

“But...why?” she asked, her voice small and wavering. “What could possibly scare you?”

Rhys chuckled softly at her question, a humourless sound that seemed almost bitter. “Plenty of things, little one,” he replied, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “More things than you could imagine.”

Eira frowned, her confusion growing. She had always assumed that Rhys was above fear, that he was somehow above the worries and anxieties that plagued the rest of them. To hear him admit otherwise...it was jarring, to say the least.

“What...What are you afraid of?” she asked softly, her voice so quiet she could barely hear it over the sound of her heart beating in her ears.

Rhys was silent for a moment, his expression growing more serious.

“Losing my mate,” he said quietly. “Losing my son. I'm afraid that if I don't keep them safe if I make a single mistake, it could all be taken from me.” He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as he spoke. "I'm afraid that one day I'll wake up and it will all have been nothing but a dream. That it was never real.”

She had never considered that he might be scared...that he might feel the same way that she did, the same fear and uncertainty that gripped her heart with a vice-like grip.

"It's real," she promised her brother quietly. "It's real, Rhys."

Rhys smiled faintly, his expression softening slightly as he looked down at her.

"I know it is,” he said quietly. “But it doesn’t make the fear go away."

Eira felt a pang of sympathy in her chest at his words.

She knew all too well what it was like to feel the weight of fear, the way it could consume you and control you and leave you feeling helpless. And yet, to hear Rhys, the High Lord of the Night Court, a man so powerful that he could crumble mountains with a snap of his fingers...

It was almost surreal.

“How do you deal with it?” she asked quietly, her voice quivering slightly. “The...the fear. How do you make it go away?”

Rhys was silent for a moment, his expression thoughtful.

"I don’t make it go away,” he said finally. “I don’t think that’s possible. The fear is always there, lurking in the back of my mind, waiting for me to let my guard down." He paused, his gaze fixed on some point over her head. “I just…I try to keep it at bay, remind myself that it’s just a feeling, that it doesn’t have to control me. I focus on the people I love, on the things that matter."

Eira felt her heartache at his words. She knew that feeling, that constant fear that lurked in the back of your mind, waiting for a moment to strike. And yet, to hear Rhys say that he felt the same...it almost made her feel better, to know that she wasn’t alone in her fear.

"Look at the flowers growing...Look at your vegetable patch," Rhys said softly. "Feel the fabric underneath you...Look at Nyx being happy and smiling..." She looked up to see Feyre walk outside, Nyx on her hip who happily squealed as soon as he saw Eira.

Eira's heart lurched at the sight of the baby, her chest constricting with emotion.

Nyx wriggled on Feyre's hip, reaching out his tiny arms towards her, babbling happily as he recognized her. Eira couldn't help but smile, her heart melting at the sight of the baby's little face. Feyre smiled, walking closer to Eira and Rhys, with Nyx bouncing on her hip.

The baby was babbling happily, his eyes fixed on Eira as he reached out for her. "Look how happy he is to see his Aunt Ra Ra" Feyre said gently, a fond smile adorning her lovely face.

"Ra Ra!" Nyx cheered at that moment, and Feyre sat him on Eira's lap, sitting next to her.

Eira felt her heart melt as Nyx settled himself on her lap, his little body bouncing with energy.

The baby looked up at her with wide, innocent eyes, his little fingers reaching out to grab at her hair. He babbled happily, his voice high-pitched and cheerful.

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close to her chest as he continued to babble and coo.

Safe, untouched. 

She was safe. Maybe one day she would believe that again. 

[essenceofarda]

The Three Eowyns from my 1920s Middle Earth au, "A Dance at the Palantiri"!! The White Lady of Rohan, Dernhelm, and a flapper dancer!

aka the three personas of Eowyn that Faramir falls in love with simultaneously without realizing that they are all, in fact, the same person LOL

Fic Summary: It's the 1920s in Middle Earth, and Éowyn just wants to get away. Just for a week, to be able to truly be herself, not just an esteemed Princess of the Riddermark. When she escapes under the disguise of a man named Dernhelm to Osgiliath, by fate she crosses paths with Lord Faramir, an infamous playboy and partygoer, who manages to rope her into becoming a bartender at his equally, if not more, infamous club and bar, The Palantiri. The Palantiri is more than meets the eye, same as its owner, however. Éowyn quickly realizes that the club is not just for people to lose themselves, but to lose their secrets too. There's more than meets the eye of Faramir, too, she finds. Suddenly, Éowyn finds herself neck deep in a years old secret operation in the war effort, and must do so while keeping up the guise of a man.

Trying out and having fun with a different to my usual style "very stylized" style :D

Also should I update this fic?

[kodamaghost00]

30 Roxanne Wolf Headcanons

———————————————————[Disclaimer!!]

This post will contain: NSFW,Sfw,Fluff,Smut

It’s also Genderless for the girls,gays and theys! You are a Technician in these scenarios!

———————————————————

Let’s begin!

She’d call you “Champ” or “Cutie”. She would call you other nicknames based on your name too.

You’re the only one who’s allowed to touch her hair and tail. Everyone knows that.

She likes watching Adult Cartoons such as Helluva boss or Hazbin Hotel.

She purrs while you cuddle her.

Her love language is being mean to you. She’ll tease you with “idiot” and “baby” just to see you get pissed off.

She’s aggressive and dominant in bed. No matter if you want to be in control.

She’s also very jealous and protective of you. If she sees you simping for anyone she’ll make you regret that by loving you all night.

Even though she LOVES to talk about herself she’d never stop you from talking about your day.

You help her often with her makeup and she also helps you out with the Parts and services stuff. Like moving around heavy boxes.

When you do maintenance on her she almost bit you once. She apologized over and over again but in the after hours you still heard her blaming herself.

She said to you once “I am the best. But you’re a close second, champ.” She smiled sweetly at you and you did the same. It was her own way of saying she loves you.

You,Chica and Roxy also have many fun memories! Since Chica is Roxy’s best friend you three love each others company.

Roxy is definitely into BDSM. She loves to see you drool over her. The desperation in your eyes turns her on badly.

There was a time before you two were close. You heard her often doubting herself. You knocked on the door to her green room “Roxy? Are you alright?” She looked at the door, hesitating to say something.

She just screamed in frustration “YES IM FINE. NOW GO AWAY!”. You stand there not wanting to go away just yet. “Look Roxy… I don’t want you to feel forced to anything but…” you had a small pause “You can always talk to me y’know?”

She was hesitant but as soon as she heard you walk away she sprinted to the door and opened it. “…Can you come in for a second…?” wich you did. She talked about her doubts while her head lays on your lap and you caressed her hair.

She has a hilarious laugh wich makes you laugh along every time.

She initiated your first kiss. She pinned you against a wall with a leg between your thighs. She looks at your lips then to your eyes. Your heart is racing. “May I?” She asks. You quickly nod and you guys kiss.

She hates it when you make her wait too long. She loves trying out other aesthetics and fashion styles. But she enjoys her original look the most.

“Do you think we’re soulmates in every universe?” You ask her as she cuddles you. “Let me think…. Yes. Definitely yes cutie~” you blush as she nuzzles her snout into your neck. She loves making playlists for you. It’s a simple thing but it means so much to her since she only does it for her loved ones.

If she ever sees you wearing her merch she’ll stand in front of you flabbergasted. Mouth gaping. Drooling. “It looks so much better on you champ…”

She loves to show you off to the others. She’ll make everyone jealous cause she’s the one who gets to love you.

Even tho she is mean to everyone she has a love for the older kiddos (9-12 years old). She enjoys pep talking them into having more self esteem.

You guys cuddle so much that you even fell asleep in her arms one time… you basically missed a whole shift-

You enjoy her overprotective attitude. Once a Karen tried to attack you and she jumped and grabbed you. Holding you close to her chest she growled at the Karen.”Back off lady.”

She fixes her hair and makeup every hour to look perfect.

In her solos on stage she always sings Rock songs.

Once you told her that you were insecure about yourself and she just looked at you in disbelief and said “You? You mean the only person who’s on my level of pretty? Nha, I don’t think you should worry about anything cutie.”

——————————————————————————

Perfect! Now that I’ve done the main 4 I might do the other ones next? Let’s see how it goes. And once again thank you all for reading my post. Have a wonderful day/night!

- Your Ghost ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ

[local-philocalist]

Entry to your 20s, advice to the 20-year-old women

Four pieces of advice for the twenty-year-old women from a twenty-something year old woman.

1. Move Your Body

I cannot stress this enough, if you can, please move your body! Move your joints and build your muscles. The doctors, scientists and our parents were unfortunately right, the older one becomes, the weaker they get. If you want to still be able to run around in your fifties, sixties, etc. You need to start the habit now. Get a routine, start working out, try a sport, attempt a dance class, and get active in general.

I’ve recently gotten a gym membership and have begun pilates once or twice a week. Although at first, my muscles were burning, my body soon got used to it and I found my stamina and flexibility improving.

However, you don't need to spend money on a gym membership or Pilates to get fit. You can take a run around your local park, start a sports team with your friends, or try a YouTube workout from the comfort of your home. There are so many different ways to stay fit without emptying your pockets.

2. Eat Your Vegetables

I understand that some people are genuinely picky eaters and their parents never took the initiative to introduce different textures and flavours healthily. Thus this has followed into adulthood and are now unable to eat anything outside the same four meals.

I also understand I cannot say too much as someone who can eat almost anything but as a reformed vegetable hater I do have a little bit to offer. To live a long, healthy life vegetables are a necessity. So if you find yourself unable to eat certain vegetables, I would suggest cooking the vegetables differently, or incorporating ingredients you enjoy in your meals, think outside the box!

There are many articles about breaking picky eating, as adults we should try to expand our tastebuds, there's so much food to enjoy in this life. Nobody likes to be the person ordering chicken fingers at a Michelin restaurant.

3. Feed Your Brain

[edited: the previous paragraph has been published on my personal substack as a full piece; I've rewritten and changed this section for publication and privacy purposes].

I urge young women to nurture their brains; you are so blessed to be in a society and world where education is so accessible for women. If you live in the West, take advantage and don't feed into the propaganda of "I'm just a girl". Women are being minimised, and I don't want young ladies falling down the rabbit hole of this recent no-purpose lifestyle that's advertised.

Looks are essential, and don't get me wrong, I know attraction still plays a huge part in society, but it isn't the only important thing. It's not cute to be ignorant, lack life skills and use social media concepts like "I'm just a girl" as excuses. Stupidity isn't hot, so while it's okay to indulge in media consumption, find yourself hobbies outside of that and put in the effort to grow intellectually and further yourself.

4. High Self-esteem Will Protect You

Most of my girlfriends are in the dating field, and from the stories they tell me its clear these men are crazy. Good discernment is needed and for you to trust your discernment you need a healthy level of self-worth.

I’m not just talking about romantic interest, in general, high self-esteem will take you far in life. From romantic partners to career paths, when you know your value and do not settle, that translates to every crevice of your life. People treat you with more respect, you're likely to find yourself in fewer abusive scenarios and get better opportunities in your place of work.

Nothing good comes from beating yourself down and letting others treat you horribly. Overall your twenties can be fun but also filled with anxiety so take it step-by-step, don't beat yourself up and remember comparison is the thief.

[dalishious]

The infamous roof scene... My favourite Sera scene in the game.

#LowElfEsteem is a series on Sera’s romance with an elf, discussing both the well and poorly done aspects of her writing, while also examining her character on a deeper level.

Sera invites the Inquisitor up onto the roof to eat cookies together. She then opens up a bit about her backstory, though in a typical Sera fashion, tells a lot by just focusing on one specific thing.

Sera: I got caught stealing when I was little, yeah? You get alienage or worse for that, but the "Lady Emmald" took me in.

Sera: She was sick and couldn't have children. I had no parents. It worked out.

Sera: Anyway, she gets a year sicker, so I ask her about cookies. Because moms make cookies. I can pass that down or something.

Sera: Turns out, she couldn’t cook. She missed that talk with her mom. The ones she "made" she bought, and pretended.

Sera: Aww, right? Well no, she was a bitch.

Sera: She hid buying them by keeping me away from the baker. She did that by lying that he didn’t like me; didn’t like elves.

Sera: She let me hate so she could protect her pride. I hated him so much, and I hated...

Sera: Well, she died. And I hate pride. Pride Cookies.

Sera: But this is great, you’re great, so I thought, maybe me and you could make some.

Sera: I don’t know, "Us Cookies."

Sera: Because then I could like them again. Aww, it’s stupid…

Inquisitor: I don’t understand, this Lady Emmald was just trying to be good to you.

Sera: She hurt people.

Inquisitor: It was just cookies.

Sera: It was not just cookies!

Sera: Lie to herself, fair play, only hurts her. But she made me think there was something wrong with me!

Sera: And the baker? I made his life shit! Why not? It seemed like he deserved it. I mean, if you don’t give a child a cookie because of appearances, you’re a monster. Stupid, pride-whore noble.

Let's get the obvious out of the way, first: When Sera says, "I hated him so much, and I hated..." trailing off, she means she hated herself. That much is obvious by Sera's further explanation, "she made me think there was something wrong with me!"

Why would Sera pick this moment of all things to talk about? Well, remember that Sera would have been less than 10 years old when this happened; the most formative years of growing up, and this incident clearly stuck with her. It taught her she couldn't trust someone she thought was looking out for her, all because Emmald cared more about maintaining appearances than her adopted child's self-esteem. She taught Sera that she would be hated for being an elf, but neglected to teach her that it wasn't Sera's fault.

Was Emmald racist herself? I'm not sure, but she certainly did use racism as a means of control. And maybe that's almost just as bad.

After this talk, the Inquisitor has the opportunity to ask Sera a bit more about herself, this time, Sera being honest. She talks about her history with the Red Jennies a bit, how she got the chance to learn how to use a bow, etc. But I want to highlight this bit of dialogue in particular:

Inquisitor: I think that, after our rooftop chat, I get why you're not like other elves.

Sera: Well, don't. How about we dig into what you are? Or what you're supposed to be?

Sera: Do you know wall about elfiness? What it takes to keep our ears all perky?

Sera: Because you could be more than just that. To me, anyway.

The romance dialogue response is "Whatever I am to you, Sera, that's all I need." And that's cute, but I want to complain about Sera's response if you answer with, "We should all be examples of our peoples, and understand how others will judge us."

Sera: Right, well, good on you. Have fun.

Sera: Don't forget to whine about the past. All elves do that.

Sera: Heard that once. From an "example".

Fucking yet again, Kristjanson can't resist the urge to have Sera denounce systemic racism as something you "whine" about, without any chance at rebuttal. We get it, buddy. You don't know how to write internalized racism in a way that's not just offensive.

If it were up to me, I'd give the Inquisitor the opportunity to challenge Sera with this, to teach her that everything she's regurgitating from what she's heard the humans say is wrong, and that hating her own people accomplishes nothing except doing half the work of her oppressors for them.

[d1gnan]

here's a little deep dive on the fight club necklace / my process in general hehe

i put like way too much thought into all my jewelry and this is about to be the most in depth ive actually ever gone about my process so sorry in advance 4 how long winded i am

(and if ur new to my jewelry i get everything secondhand and i upcycle so i source from places like estate sales/thrift stores/antique malls/ebay/shop frum peoples personal collections etc )

i think the necklace and the original paper street bracelet i made speak the same visual language as the paper street house pretty well because i sourced most of it from some of my oldest and most visually ornate jewelry finds.

a lot of the beads from this one are actually from this really dope older lady i knows collection/more specifically from a costuming warehouse in nyc and the jewelry is just so ornate and crazy and out of style, i imagine they were once worn by the kind of people that wouldve gotten their soup peed in so its kind of fun to reclaim them for something like this

when i went to go look thru my stash i was specifically thinking of chipping wallpaper and pulling anything that evoked that to me-kind of corny for a second, but i love beat up old houses visually and theres something so cool about the juxtaposition of ornate/destroyed. layerS and layers of beautiful print made sad and irrelevant by its surroundings. these (the houses and the jewelry) were luxurious and cool and trendy at one point and now theyre completely obsolete and funny. i honestly think the whole thing screams tyler durdens philosophy also

( a beautiful thing destroyed, the performance of put-togetherness+ wealth, putting stake in material goods+trends only for them to be completely stripped away by time )

but anyway yeah when u put these glamorous old things together with stuff like keys and charms that don't match and mix gold/silver, you get this really lived in and sick junk drawer effect, and when you pair pale whites with pale greens it can kind of give a souring/moldy/aged look

little more specific callouts tho for references (left to right)

golf club charms r pretty obvious

the green engraved stone i grabbed immediately because it gives the old wallpaper feeling i was going for

theres this golden charm that's kinda like a kitschy grandma charm, it says "1 minute/1 hour/1day/1week/1year/1leapyear/1century" and i put that as a reference to "this is your life and its ending one minute at a time"/"i am jacks wasted life" and i also think it works on another level/kindamatches with fight clubs irony since its like supposed to be a cutie love commitment idk at least 2 me hahaha

the little step ladder charm and the key i added so that it would read as yeah a dirty old unfinished house/kinda a visual junk drawer..the key i got at an estate sale (i got a bunch and had to make key soup to clean them all)it opens something somewhere

the dog vaccination tag is there both as a reference to the guy that they threaten but then also slightly as a nod to the narrators wacked self esteem the whole like puppy dog obsession aspect IDK

theres a little P and S charm for paper street

the freshwater pearl at the end and the plastic bone shaped bead are kind of supposed to give teeth/bones like subconsciously, i tried a kind of similar thing when i made jewelry based off of pearl from X and tried to make like a rotting looking necklace

theres a little coke bottle cracker jack toy on there too, if ur trying to condense fight club into symbols, glass bottles pop up in my brain so i wanted to find something like that and i got lucky. theres also a little green telescope cracker jack toy thats kind of rusty and i picked it up for how well it matched what i was going for visually but i feel like it could also be a space monkeys thing

any way thanks for looking at this, like i said this is the deepest ive ever gone into depth about my process, but this is why im so drawn to creating jewelry it feels like taking a picture or finishing a puzzle i just do it in a really specific way and it always feels fresh and new when i start a new project, (i definitely dont always have this much to say i promise) but any way hope this was cool

[lumenflowered]

Hello. My name is Maria. She/her. I am a Faller from a place called Yharnam through means unknown, the Chosen champion of Ho-oh through means theoretically known, and the current Champion of the Indigo League through means I know very well, as I did defeat Lance to win that title.

Though I still am thoroughly uncertain as to what quirk of fate resulted in my arrival here, the Johto region has become my home, and I will defend it. Team Rocket is now a memory, as is its leader. They will not be missed.

Here is my Trainer Card, for those curious—I have found that I look rather dashing in it.

My team is as follows; if you would like to know more about any of them than I have provided here, you need only but ask:

Rakuyo (Meganium, X) Hunter (Furret, F) Molotov (Arcanine, M) Adeline (Gengar, F) Evelyn (Kingdra, F) Eileen (Honchkrow, F)

My Gengar, Ade, is considerably more technologically literate than I and frequently borrows my device to editorialize upon my posts, record what I am doing, or make posts of her own. When she does, she favors the color purple.

Silver is, technically, still the rival to me that she has declared herself to be. She now has her own blog at @cosmic-crobat. In previous posts upon my blog, she has utilized the color blue.

Occasionally, the god that deemed me worthy of saving Johto chooses to speak here as well. When Ho-oh does so, they do so with bold orange text, and they use that name interchangeably with another they have chosen: Solaire.

The first person to show me kindness in this world was an eleven-year-old boy named Ethan. He introduced me to the second—his mother, a woman named Reina, who I hold in the highest esteem and bear much affection for. I have lent her my device before, and her favorite color is pink.

(Ethan, in his single brief appearance here, used the color yellow. Unfortunately, Rotomblr seems to have removed that color from my post editor and I lack the technological knowledge to restore it, so should he return I will ask what he would prefer instead.)

Some time ago, there was an incident where my Pokégear was stolen and found its way into the hands of a mysterious woman known only as Dee, who distinguished her own posts with green text. I spent the following weeks attempting to solve the mystery of who she might be, only to discover that she was in fact the living Doll modeled after me.

I... do not know how she is in the same world as me. Nor do I know who her friend with the bold red text is for certain, though I have reason to suspect that they are from Yharnam as well.

Now that Team Rocket can be referred to in the past tense, I suppose I do now have the time to devote to the mystery of Dee, or I will soon. A part of me wants nothing to do with her. But she bears no responsibility for the circumstances of her creation, and perhaps she knows the answers to some of the questions I still have. Perhaps she knows something that I do not.

(OOC info under cut!)

Man these intro posts just keep getting longer and longer. Maria has a Lot To Say now that she's less depressed it seems, which is probably objectively a good thing but still. Anyway, hi, it's still me, @ofstormsandfire, with the pokeblog I've been devoting the majority of my time on Tumblr to for the past few months. I have no regrets this has been very fun and is helping with my Bloodborne withdrawal.

Anyway. Hi. I like Bloodborne, I really like Lady Maria of the Astral Clocktower, and I got the idea back in November that I could make her a Faller. That, honestly, there isn't much I can do to her that wouldn't be an improvement over the Ocean Horrors. So this blog resulted!

With that said, Bloodborne is ostensibly a horror game and while Maria is currently in the world of Pokémon, that does not change the fact that she has been through The Horrors and is likely to reference them. Canon-typical themes for that may be present, I'll do my best to tag for anything that isn't average pokeblogging fare, if you'd like me to tag for anything specific feel free to just ask!

Here's some navigational tags for y'all (and I finally figured out how to make them chronological between the last intro post I made and this one, woo!)

#firebird arc: I combined the Radio Tower takeover and the Ho-oh subplot, made the Kimono Girls a lot more relevant, and ramped up the stakes slightly. Ho-oh is a firebird and I think there's a type of rocket called the firebird. I like puns. Sue me.

#from the ashes arc: Giovanni became an actual threat, there got to be an entire Rocket base in Tohjo Falls, and Silver got traumatized more. Mind the tags and also the warning OOC post at the beginning.

#kanto rocket arc: There wasn't much to do in Kanto so I had Rocket start causing problems on purpose. Silver transed her gender and Giovanni... seemed to no longer be a problem at the end of it.

#downpour arc: This hasn't started yet, and won't for a little while, but I've got one post in the tag already establishing it and letting people know what's up OOC ahead of time. I'll probably need to write another new intro post by the time this arc actually begins but it's nice to have my bases covered anyway.

#milf time and sonboy hours, #milf time: The first tag was specifically posts from Ethan and Reina, but Tumblr stole my yellow and Ethan didn't care about Rotomblr so we're not likely to see more of him actually posting. Maybe on Silver's account who knows.

#passing stranger: Posts from or relating to Dee, which y'all now know both ic and ooc is the Plain Doll. Though most of the posts in this tag are from her 24-hour takeover back in February, there will be more, she's coming back more permanently soon and I'm excited.

#rainbow wings: Posts from (or sometimes relating to) Ho-oh. They don't post that often but they're a giant rainbow bird they can do what they want. What they want, when they happen to be online, is generally for injustice to Not Happen. Good luck buddy.

#what's with this sassy lost child?: Posts from Silver, before she got her own blog at @cosmic-crobat. These days she mostly uses her own blog. I might reuse blue for another character later, or I might just keep using blue for her, we'll see what happens.

#ask game: Reblogs of ask games and responses to said ask games. This one isn't chronological.

#hints to the future: Specifically, responses to that one ask game with the gear emojis that lets you hint at future events. I am always accepting asks for this one no matter how long it's been since I last reblogged that ask game. I like hinting toward what's to come and I like writing prose.

#glimpses of the past: That one ask game with the hourglasses that lets you see into the muse's past. Again, always open because I love writing prose and I can write out prose for things that have already happened this way.

#pelipper mail: It's open, it keeps happening, it keeps causing problems. Note that while I do not have magic anons on, if you're sufficiently creative with Pelipper Mail and it isn't too story-breaking you can probably get a similar effect to a magic anon that way.

#the vampire allegations: Silly tag for posts involving the recurring jokes about Maria being a vampire. It keeps happening, due to her entire aesthetic and also me deciding she can be allergic to garlic for coincidental and completely mundane reasons.

[illyriangoddess13]

Enchanted

Azriel X Reader

Word Count: 1127 words

Summary: Inspired by “Enchanted” by Taylor Swift

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were bored at the party that was being thrown in honor of your birthday.

How awful that sounded, but it was true. It was less of a birthday party and more of a political stance that your parents were taking, making sure that they invited the who’s-who of Prythian society. That meant most of the High Lords and their respective partners, along with their closest friends and allies. It also meant that none of your actual friends were there.

However, you were trying to make the most of the party. You had stuck by the bar pretty much the whole night, nursing several glasses of gin and tonic. The bartender was keeping you company, making you laugh every so often with a jab at specific esteemed guests.

Then suddenly, you heard the double doors open wide, and in came a rather large group of Fae. Fae you recognized as High Lord Rhysand, his mate High Lady Feyre, and their entourage. Showing up fashionably late, you smirked, knowing how much your parents would disapprove of that.

The entire group immediately wandered over to the food table, laughing amongst one another. You watched as your parents started to walk across the other side of the room to greet them. Your father shook hands with the High Lord and they both looked over in your direction. You immediately felt your cheeks turn red and you spun around to face the bartender once again. You went to sip your fourth gin and tonic, however you were severely disappointed by the lack of alcohol in this one.

“I’m cutting you off,” the young bartender smiled at you when he took note of your quizzical stare. “Besides, it seems as if you have some important Fae here to see you.”

You turned back around at the nod of his chin towards whomever was behind you. You were alarmed to see your father approaching with the Night Court High Lord, the Illyrian General, and the Shadowsinger.

You had never had the pleasure of meeting anyone from the Night Court before. The two courts were close, but your parents had never really encouraged venturing out of the Day Court. All the information that you gathered was from your eavesdropping sessions on your parents’ private meetings.

“It seems birthday wishes are in order,” Lord Rhysand smiled generously at you. The two other males with him stood silently behind their High Lord.

“Thank you, Lord Rhysand,” you smiled back politely. You knew how important the Night Court being here was to your parents and however much you didn’t get along with your mother and father, you also didn’t want to mess this meeting up for them.

As the males turned to walk away, the one covered in blue siphons moved to step back closer to you. “I need a drink,” he said, waving the other two off.

As he stepped up to the bar and ordered his drink, you got a good look at his profile. He was tall, and his large leathery, black wings were tucked safely against his back. His facial features were well defined and you couldn’t help but admire how beautiful he was. You had never seen a male like him or his companions anywhere in the Day Court, that was for sure.

“Can I have another gin and tonic?” you asked, snapping out of your stare and turning back to the bar. “And can you put some actual gin in it this time?” you added.

“Seems like you’re having loads of fun,” the male who still hadn’t left said, his tone laced with sarcasm.

You scoffed. “Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but everyone here is at least 800 years old and I’m celebrating my 500th birthday. And I’m sure you’re aware that my father invited your High Lord and Lady for more than just my birthday party.”

The male let out a small laugh, seemingly surprised that you knew of your father’s true intentions. “Well, princess, you sure aren’t fooled easily. Seems like your parents don’t know much about you if they can’t even throw a political get-together under false pretenses, such as your birthday party, without you discovering it.”

“My name’s Y/N,” you muttered. “And how much can you really know about my relationship with my family? We just met.”

“Azriel,” he introduced himself. “And it’s my job to notice the small details,” he grinned at you, placing his empty glass down on the bar. He reached into his pocket and placed money down on the counter for the bartender. It was enough to cover both of your drinks, plus a couple extra. “Care for a dance?”

You glanced at him suspiciously before placing a delicate hand into his outstretched scarred one, and he led you out onto the busy dance floor. A waltz started up by the string quartet your parents had hired, and you followed Azriel’s lead.

You placed a hand on his back, feeling the tight muscles underneath your fingers. His hand wandered a little lower down your back than what a friendly dance required but you didn’t make any comments. It felt nice to have a male holding you closely towards him.

He swept you around the dance floor, in a skilled, artful manner. The male knew what he was doing. And when you had told him as such, he smiled genuinely down at you.

“It never hurts to know how to dance, especially when there’s a beautiful female sitting by herself at the bar,” Azriel whispered into your ear.

His rough voice sent shivers down your spine, and he smirked as if he knew what his words did to you.

You waltzed through the last steps of the song and when the instruments had ceased, Azriel bowed deeply in front of you. “Thank you for the dance. I hope you’ll accept it as a fine birthday gift, as none of us brought you anything. But I’m the only one who will accept the credit for such a thoughtful present.”

You nodded quickly, feeling your cheeks heat. “It was wonderful, thank you.”

Azriel smiled at you and he turned around at a tap on his shoulder. Lord Rhysand was behind him, and he nodded towards the doors. “We should head out,” he grumbled. “I should have known coming here would be pointless. Hellion’s emissaries weren’t any help.”

Lord Rhysand spun around and stalked off, leaving Azriel to say his goodbyes to you quickly.

“It was a pleasure dancing and drinking with you, Y/N,” Azriel winked at you, and then slipped off into the crowd, following behind his High Lord.

As you watched the winged male wander off, you couldn’t help but wonder if he knew how enchanted you were to meet him.

[alyjojo]

Past Life 🪡 Karmic Spread January 2024 - Gemini

Character Card: The Captain (past), The Musician (present)

Gender I’m Picking Up On (in the past life): Male past, Female present

Who You Were: The Devil

What You Did: 9 Wands

How It Ended: 10 Wands rev

What Karma Was Brought With You: Queen of Swords

Who You Brought With You: The Hermit

Additional energy: 6 Pentacles

Past Life Oracle: Trust and Faith & Atlantis (past), Scribe or Writer & Karmic Relationship (present)

Dreaming Way: Fox (past), Whips & Lady (present)

Charms:

Saw 🪓 on Fox

Sun ☀️ on 10 Wands rev

Feather 🪶 on Musician

Apple 🍎 on Queen of Swords

Happy Cloud ☁️ on Karmic Relationship

Having done Cancer’s, which had by far the most specific details I’ve ever gotten, Spirit seemed to do that one for me & I just wrote it down. Your reading is the polar opposite. I’ve gone down a whole rabbit hole 🐰 over this, an *entire day* of Googling, Wikipedia, countless historic articles and conservation efforts, just to come up with a broad generalization, time period, and no historical ties to any *specific* anything really. Did they not keep records? Is this area generally ignored in history? I have no idea. If you choose to attempt to find an actual name, date & face, specific information, good luck 🙏 I know fun facts about all sorts of things now, and most are hardly related. Spirit usually gives me bits at a time, and I have to piece it together, like a puzzle. I saw travel, laid out Atlantis and heard “Atlantic”, with 6 Swords I saw Christopher Columbus on an expedition, and was like “no freakin way”…it’s not, but right lane. Spain 💯 similar journey, principle, and purpose. When I got to charms, it was “saw on the Fox”, then it was no…move it to the neck. Weird, but ok. Fox is deceitful, that matched up with the “bad guy” I got in the preshuffle, you cut them off (I assumed.) But nooo. “Fur trade” and then “Fox” after, seeing the saw cutting off the Fox’s head I was like OH. I see. Specifically islands, I’ve researched every fox in South America, and every time I’d finish I would hear “island”, I’m like “there’s nothing on an island!” 😆Whew lord. If it’s not an island it’s not the right spot. There’s one, idk which one, I have to let it go & move on. No names either, just “Europeans in 1800s” that’s as specific as history gets for me…idk if it’s even 1800s, and idk why Spirit is being all cryptic and shit with yours…I can’t win them all apparently.

*You* were the bad guy. From Spain, your character card is The Captain, and you were the big man in charge of…I’m not sure what, initially. I see you on a ship but not as the captain of it. You were someone important, held in high esteem by whoever was in charge of trade/exports, maybe those still in Spain that were receiving. The Hierophant here may be showing a King, or someone in a very high & respected position of authority that you reported to. Faith is also shown as having great importance in your world, Catholic specifically, but I’m not sure where that fits because I only see the fur trade as the dominant focus for you. Or you could have been a shady religious figure that somehow had dominant power over trade/hunting, specifically furs. You are described as The Devil, clarified by The Devil, a lust for money, paid for by Death, pain, blood, and eventually extinction - if my research is the correct fox 🦊 But those weren’t the only animals by far. At your death, it was coming to light how much damage had been caused to the population, I’m seeing it as being significant, for all of the people who contributed, your team had the most kills by far. I don’t see it having ended by your death, but this being the first major jolt of realization for the public, inhabitants of the island/s again it’s an island/s being highlighted, or anyone else paying attention at the time. Age wise, I’m getting around 50. Not old, but old enough for work related things to be getting harder, I’m getting an unrelated forearm injury, could be something like carpal tunnel or a muscle injury, had caused what used to be normal more of a struggle. But the death is a natural one.

In this life, you are female, and show up as Queen of Swords, a writer, a musician, and possibly a teacher too - with the Apple 🍎 charm. If not a teacher, it’s possible you’re vegetarian/vegan. I hope not, because no one that doesn’t eat meat wants to hear it’s karmic for hurting animals, that’s kinda fkd up. Would make sense though. Much of your story probably is, especially in regards to family, I get them being cruel and almost nonexistent. Particularly a woman, possibly a mother but could be someone else, they’re reaching for the Whip of all things. This is someone emotionally cold, possibly alone, by choice or not I’m not sure, and they do mean things to you. Or did as a child, physical harm on some level, even if they justified it as “discipline”, it’s much harsher than most of us have ever had to endure, and probably for less serious offenses. I am getting that this person existed as karma for pain you had inflicted - and also to help form your own personality, who you’re meant to be, which is Queen of Swords - the Queen who has seen some shit 💯 she knows it all and protects herself with this sword. She will hear you out and happily communicate, but if your words don’t match the truth, she will swiftly cut your head off (with words) and move on with her life. This describes you, and because of what you’ve been through and what you’ve seen, your purpose is one of inspiring others, while protecting yourself.

The Tower & 10 Swords shows where you’ve come from, very painful experiences 😞 The Musician is someone that is grateful for everything they have, even if it’s not much, and they turn their experiences into inspiration for others. Teaching is here, all levels of creative writing or music is here, with Wheel of Fortune, this is your destiny 🙏 You may have doubts but it is. Even if you’re not a musician, music affects you on a very deep level, and with the feather being here, you may sometimes feel like you’re getting actual messages through songs you hear - if so that’s true you are. That could be the way your Spirits know how to get your attention, or one of them may have been a musician, an ancestor of yours, and if so they were meant to be with you. The Hermit shows who you’ve brought, no one. Not this lady with Whips. Not anyone that’s been cruel to you. Not any lovers, though you always have soulmates around, or people that could become soulmates, none of them are from this life. The Hermit is clarified by 9 Pentacles though, love may not be what you even want, you’re someone that feels perfectly secure alone, all of your things are exactly as you want them, and you hesitate with love for fear of someone else messing up your flow or routines. I do see plenty of lovers, none that you stick with for too long, I heard “they’re all crazy” 😜 You like the heat of passion, and with passion comes crazy, so you stay in things for the fun and always kinda stay emotionally detached, expecting it to end, and when it eventually does, you’re not bothered.

This Karmic relationship being highlighted with The Cloud is either a child or someone you knew as a child, could be a Leo, or someone that feels like sunshine, they get a lot of positive attention and are successful in their life. Could be someone famous or with a high position in their field. You could’ve spent summers together while young, you feel over the moon when you’re with them, like a couple of kids no matter what age you are. Wheel of Fortune is being pointed out again before I close and I heard “research your North Node”. That’s your destiny, purpose, why you came here, probably has something to do with creativity because that’s all over your reading. When in doubt, head away from South Node and towards the North, and Spirit will help you.

[quinloki]

Aaaaaaa our self ships?!?!?

I ship with Buggy and Shanks, because how could I not be head over heels for them? And I just love the height difference, me 5'5, Buggy 6'3, Shanks 6'6.... They're giants compared to the tiny powerhouse that is my s/i.

And Addie Santine, my most beloved s/i. She's free spirited, doing what she wants when she wants, who grew up with a whole lot of trauma before heading out to become a pirate at the ripe old age of 12. And as an adult is infamous, known as the Siren for being able to lure men (and certain women) with seduction and flirtation for her own personal goals. But also not to be taken lightly because she's known for a reason, and feared as dangerous and will go from being fun loving to willing to attack at a pin drop if someone presses her buttons (much more often occurring in my ship with Buggy).

With Buggy the two of them met with her saving his life (because he's Buggy) from another crew that was getting close to killing him wanting to join his crew, because with the two of their reputations they could stand to get whatever they wanted. And I mean, hot, deadly pirate lady wants to join him? Buggy's in. They don't get together for a while though once she has, instead they're pining for each other (completely obvious to everyone else) with Addie due to her past trauma with relationships and men, and Buggy thinking they couldn't possibly be interested in him with his rock bottom self esteem. But once they do my god, they're the Destruction Duo. And Addie? Don't you dare lay a hand on the clown.

And Shanks? Dashing, handsome, kind hearted Shanks? The two of them are instantly attracted to each other and often run into each other, flirting outrageously and having a deep respect for each other despite their differing views on handling conflict, with Shanks understanding Addie does what she does for her survival, and the fact that she's a much more reasonable person when she's around him. He loves her for her wildness, her love for freedom and that under the coldness and violence she's loving and kind. And Addie fell for him because he's the first person who was able to see her for who she is, and when she realises she likes being soft and gentler because he helps her be the person she wants to be. Though it still takes a whole lot of time with the flirting building up for Addie to accept her feelings for him and the fact that he returns them thinking that she doesn't deserve it because of the things she's done. But once they do get together omg, power couple!

Thank you for sharing! I love the subtle differences between how things go with Buggy vs how they go with Shanks. I love the gremlin vibes and the flirting and the explosions XD

Sometimes we just need someone to actually SEE us and that's enough for us to start to see ourselves, and there's a vibe of that in this I really like. ^_^ And like, YOU get to be the pirate, a little scourge of the high seas, for yourself, as a treat \o/

It's fantastic! I read this a couple times before I could even reply to it cause you just painted such a great picture =3 the passion's there!

Do you have anything written or drawn for Addie? I'd love to read up on her or see her ☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

Tell me about your self-ships!

[ao3feed-jaytim]

Faint Heart and All That

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/46377253 by stellewrites “Don’t scream,” a man said behind him, causing Tim to scream and drop his coffee on his carpet. “Shit, I said don’t scream.”   Tim abandoned bagel to the ground alongside his coffee when the tall man advanced and pushed his hand over Tim’s mouth to silence him.   Now that he was close, Tim saw his face and his eyes widened.   Holy shit, Jason Todd. AKA Tim meets a suspicious old lady on his way home after a night out and harmlessly wishes for his crush to come and sweep him off his feet after his dating life has been deader than dead as of late. Tim wouldn't be so shocked to see Jason in his apartment the next day, except Jason Todd was a TV character, not just your average guy Tim saw on his commute. Who the hell was that old lady? Words: 25226, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, DCU Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Roy Harper, Koriand'r (DCU), Stephanie Brown, Kon-El | Conner Kent, Cassandra Cain, Damian Wayne Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Multiverse, its a tv au and you'll see how when you read it, Civilian Tim Drake, bc I love putting him in shit spots when hes a normie and making him adapt on the spot, Asexual Tim Drake, Author is ace, Tim Drake Gets a Hug, Tim Drake-centric, Jason Todd Gets A Hug, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Jason Todd is Red Hood, to a degree, different to how you think probably, Fluff and Angst, Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Protective Jason Todd, Jason Todd and Damian Wayne are Siblings, Good Sibling Jason Todd, little bit of internalised aphobia, could maybe be argued its self-confidence issues but i'd be careful anyway, and its addressed and focused on in the fic it snot just swept under the rug or left to fester, Angst, Confident Jason Todd, Flirty Jason Todd, Attempt at Humor, Autistic Tim Drake, implied but never spoken about, but author is aut so you know i've put a bit of flavour in there, Self-Esteem Issues, Self Confidence Issues, its honestly not as angsty as its looking i promise you this fic is fun, and positive and soft! read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/46377253

[communalmenace]

Happy New Years Mutuals, etc

This year was pretty based for me in retrospect, I got to travel and see one of my best friends get married in real life, and I got to drag one of my most dear online friends up here to Canadaland to visit for a whole week, and the euphoria generated from these blessed meetings is still lingering months later! If you people have decades old online bffs, for the love of God, meet them somehow!

I also broke up with my partner of 6 years -- something I really should have done sooner, when I think back to everything I had let them get away with before?! To me, and my other friends, lord -- and that has actually been... amazing? I guess that isn't surprising though, me being so well versed in severing years long relationships with white people who make their own esteem issues everyone else's problem. Third time is the charm, surely...?!

I am looking forward to next year, with plans of meeting more of my dear friends, and just travelling in general! It is strange to be able to Do these things now that I have this absurd full-time government job, and I still grapple with the despair inherent to the thought that I Have To Live For Money, but it is getting easier now that I have just enough to fulfill some of my desires... still a twinge of guilt that I am not able to pursue my art in earnest, still an urge to end it all since I can't have everything, but... for now, it is tolerable.

At the end of the day I am pursuing more of my goals than I was when I did have the time for my art, too depressed at home to utilize any of it anyway. And as such I have been feeling much better. For Now.

In 2023 I am going to try and keep a more consistent record of my life and just generally continue trying to be as honest as I can in day to day life. Go to the local concerts by myself, attend the local crafts workshops with old ladies. Spend more time with friends in real life (I recently became friends with a coworker who brings me on all sorts of outdoors adventures, we had ever so much fun this summer digging up wild tiger lilies for her garden, collecting animal skulls, going on picnics, etc! She is wonderful!!), spend more time outdoors in general. It will be based, I think.

Anyway lads, I hope 2022 was good to yall, and if it wasn't, that 2023 is at least better. Oh, and I have also been thinking about getting more pen pals, if any of you people are interested in that? I am an avid letter-writer, and wouldn't mind sending out More letters and postcards to more people!

[saritaadam]

I'm amazed that with all those cop shows where the cop isn't a cop (private detectives, little old lady, teachers, teenagers...) there's not one where the "cop" is a social worker. You need to barely change a thing!

You but your worker in a place with a lot of poverty and little security and they can go against every classic cop show issues: gangs, drug dealing, prostitution, murders...

They have personnal connexion to every case because it's always touching the people they're taking care of

"The city is a character" trope because that's their goddamn neighborhood and yeah it sucks but it's theirs, it's their home, and they know it like the back of their hand and they love it and wouldn't even know where else to go

Strong supporting cast made of their colleagues and recurrent neighbors

Administration is obstructing our work and preventing us to do justice plots, but instead of administration not letting cops beat people like they want, it's actually bad and preventing people to get the help they need

Want some action scene? Bad guy of the week is beating the pulp out of them/actively trying to kill them because they're snooping too close for their liking. If we're making an us show our hero can have a fire arm of their own. If we want more choreographic action scene, our hero has been doing martial art for 20 years

And of course, you know our hero is a workalcoholic. You know they're married to the job, are being eaten by the job. You know they're working way overtime to find the best way to help all the people walking into their office. You know they feel all the guilt of the world when they can't do that

Plus some bonus the format will bring:

Cost less money because who is gonna believe social workers are in brand new building with glass walls and with a functionning AC?

You don't need to ask the police department to lend you some extras and police cars so you don't need to censor your script to appeal to them

Disclaimer that my only interraction with social workers were the ones that helped me with my schoolarship and they have my undying reconnaissance and esteem but I know shit about what they do daily it's just a fun post

[just-a-simple-sapphic]

SGE Movie: Where is the character development? (spoilers obviously)

The following criticizes the characters, NOT the actors as they've done a wonderful job.

Sophie

Sophie's whole character is meant to be narcissistic and cruel but she hides it because she believes she's Good.

In the books, she chooses Agatha as her "good deed" because it's what princesses do. It's why she hangs around Agatha in the first place and tries to give her a makeover to make Agatha "not a witch" and planned to leave as soon as she did. She didn't mean to become friends with "the witch who lives in the graveyard. Basically Sophie pulled an "I can fix her" and then they grew closer and became friends. I mean c'mon this is the girl that donated beauty products to an orphanage so that they can "be beautiful like her".

In the movies, everything Sophie does is not inherently evil in any way. She smacks a dude in the head with a frying pan to save Agatha. She actually hears Agatha out and promises not to leave Gavaldon (even if she broke it, she was actually sorry). Sophie should have been selfish. Sophie would tell Agatha that she's worrying for nothing and that she's overreacting. She would leave anyway with a "flah-se-dah" on her way out.

Agatha

The movie only shows her as obsessed with Sophie and that she has low self esteem. That's it. That's her entire character in the movie. The whole point of Agatha (the character concept) was to show that you do not have to look beautiful to be beautiful.

Her character is supposed to be witty and sarcastic, but she's just very dismissive. She brushes off Dovey and doesn't listen to a word she says. She brushes off Tedros whenever he tries to talk to her. She refuses to believe that she belongs at the School for Good way past when she was supposed to.

The only people we see her actually listen to is Gregor and Sophie. Gregor because he was meant to be Agatha's "character development". Sophie because they're close friends.

Tedros

I'm just going to say it. Being blonde was his personality. He's a lot more calm and level-headed in the movie which I appreciate, but where is the child whose father's throne sits empty too early? That was Tedros' main struggle outside of the two protagonists. I get that the franchise is mainly about Sophie and Agatha but Tedros is a vital character in the series.

From any person's perspective (who has only watched the movie) they can only conclude that he is King Arthur's son and he's spoiled because he doesn't want someone who just bats their eyes at him.

Lesso

WHY did they give her Evelyn's ambitions and goals? It's not healthy.

They completely stripped her personality and gave her Evelyn's. Evelyn is the one in love with Rafal. Evelyn is the one who causes chaos for fun. Evelyn is the one who delivers Sophie to Rafal. Lesso was made a Reader because of this whole "in love with Rafal" thing. If Movie Lesso was supposed to be a placeholder for Evelyn Sader, why didn't they just add her in instead of swapping out her character?

Lady Lesso is supposed to be a mentor to Sophie, a maternal figure even, but we see NONE of that. Sophie would have had help transitioning and adjusting to being a Never and embracing her inner witch but nooooo make Lesso a Reader and in love with Rafal for d r a m a

Dovey

She's not a calm and passive old woman we've seen her as in the books which is great because now she has more depth to her character. She's so flighty and jolly to set an example for her students and is down to earth when she realizes that there is real hope for Good in Agatha. But why is she kind of a bitch sometimes? I get that she and Lesso are coworkers on opposite teams with occasional jabs at each other between speaking out, but it's not even the almost-playful kind. It's bitter.

Anemone

So glad we got more backstory for a side character at the expense of butchering the more important and present characters.

I actually do love that she's not passive and uptight like in the books, but I miss her eccentricity. She shows up in class wearing the most ridiculous thing you've ever seen but she wears enough confidence to make it work.

"Do I look like I give a shit about smiling" is my favorite

School Master/Rafal

One of the greatest mysteries of the books was the identity of the School Master. As great as it was that it was cleared up I really hated the execution. Why is Rafal showing himself to the students? His younger self, no less. He's actively looking for his "true love" and now even the students know. There's no more mystery and that's what made it so intriguing.

The Evergirls

Their behavior is so much worse than what it was in the books. In the movie, they weren't just vain vanity girls gossiping amongst themselves, they were outright bullies. They lock Agatha in her room and laugh as they walk away, Beatrix pushes Kiko away from the Wish Fish pond (kind of violently too), and Beatrix throws an insult to Agatha during Beautification when she tries to smile. I kind of expected them to be more like how Dovey is, flighty and smiling (albeit fake) and trying to act nice despite what's going on in their head.

Lack of Characters

August Sader is probably the character that most book readers notice is missing. No one knows why he's missing as he was one of the most significant characters in the series, even after his death. He's the one who guides Agatha through life in Book One. I personally think that August Sader was Agatha's anchor during her time in the School for Good. Outside of looking for Sophie and a way home, she saw him as an eccentric father figure. He was important to her, and he was important to the story. The reason why the School Master knew his true love was a Reader was because of August Sader's prophecy. Whatever happened to that?

Storyline and Plot

Okay what the fuck is "Blood Magic" and why is it a new thing? "Normal" magic, so to speak, is thought to be powerful enough with the right person. The only outside source of powerful magic was thought to be in spells and ancient artifacts.

The Circus of Talents was completely removed with no mention of it either. It was a groundbreaking event for both protagonists and several side characters. It's where Tedros asks Agatha to the Snow Ball (or I guess Evers' Ball eh) and where Agatha shows both schools the fate of failed students. It's where Witch Sophie makes her grand entrance and declares Agatha her nemesis. So WHY is this scene, one of the most significant, not part of the movie?

The Trial by Tale was completely butchered. Only Sophie and Tedros enter the Blue Forest for a "trial of true love". Of course Agatha is there too but where is the battle royale the Trial by Tale is supposed to be?

-

I thought the books were meant to be a blueprint, but that could also just be me and my expectations. But they're adding unnecessary things and removing the more important ones so the movie is just really confusing and vague especially to someone who has never read the books. Fuck, even the ones who have read the books are confused.

If their issue was time, it would have been better accepted by the community as a series.

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

Omg can I please get a hannibal x a shy girl reader ? Like he’s really possessive of her and she doesn’t know how to handle it but she likes him so they date??

Sorry this took so long, anon. I’ve been bouncing ideas around and this one in particular, I believe, fits your request. Y/n feels out of place among Hannibal’s fancy friends and it becomes even more obvious when he abandons her at a party. 

Trigger warnings: social anxiety, sexual harassment, overstimulation

You and Hannibal had an agreement about large gatherings. He could only bring you to a party if you had a week's notice and at least three uninterrupted hours of gaming time prior to the event.

For this event, you needed a solid six.

One of the major Maryland universities was awarding a lucrative research grant to a student of clinical psychology, and every influential name in the industry was expected to be there. As a recent college grad with a bachelor's in business you didn't know what to do with, you couldn't imagine a less welcoming environment if you tried. You couldn't fit into their world and more importantly, you didn't want to. But the thought of being noticeably different in any situation was twice as terrifying. So you spent the whole week repeating your mantra; blend in, be quiet and make it through the night.

But Hannibal had different plans for you.

Halfway through the week, just when you'd pushed the party out of your mind, Hannibal presented you with a gift.

"What's the occasion?" You asked. You hoped that if you pretended not to know, it would just magically go away.

"I brought you something to wear on Friday." Hannibal answered, hanging the garment bag up on the bureau. "You know I'll take any excuse to dress you up."

He unzipped the bag and placed a black silk dress into your arms. "Try it on so I have time to get it altered if it needs it."

The material was cool to the touch and outlined your figure so perfectly, you felt even a little naked. Hannibal, of course, loved this. You were his own personal Venus de Milo. His goddess and his muse. 

“Yes, that will do nicely.” He observed, looking at you hungrily. 

“Seems a little short for a such a sophisticated event, doesn’t it?” You raised an eyebrow. The answer was yes and he knew it. He was very deliberate in everything he did. “I don’t want to come off the wrong way.” 

“And what way would that be, darling?” He asked, not taking his eyes off your figure. 

“I mean--” You searched for the right words. “It’s a gathering of the Mid-Atlantic’s most esteemed academics, I feel like, in a dress like this, I might be seen as, well, a...” 

“A prostitute?” Hannibal finished, choosing a much nicer word than you would have.

You looked down. “Yeah. It just doesn’t seem all that appropriate.” 

Hannibal approached you and lifted your chin slightly to look into his eyes. “Many Christian denominations believe that Mary Magdalene was a prostitute, yet she was Christ’s right-hand woman. She was first to see him crucified and first to witness his resurrection.” 

“Dr. Lecter,” You smirked. “I never would have taken you for a religious man.” 

“Goodness, no.” He shook his head. “But any reputable academic is expected to be familiar with biblical literature and its many contradictions and impossibilities.” 

“What does that have to do with me?”

“You are my divine feminine, Miss [L/N].” Hannibal said in a low whisper. “And I want everyone to see it. If they see a common whore, it would only be a reflection of their own jealousy.” 

Hannibal's rationalization almost made you forget about your fear of being noticed. Almost. It all came rushing back when you arrived at the event. Not one person your age was in attendance. The women wore long, flowing evening gowns that reached the floor. The length of your skirt alone guaranteed that all eyes were on you. In a simple black silk dress, you looked the very model of high society. Silk was a sign of luxury, and Hannibal wanted everyone to know that you were a woman of means. His woman, to be precise. That was why he brought you to these functions in the first place. To put you in a dress short enough for any wandering eyes so see the smattering of love bites running up your inner thighs. He wanted everyone in his field to know that you were completely and entirely his.

You realized too late that this was all his little exercise in showing you off.

Everyone seemed to know him. He only knew a handful of people by name, and you didn't know anyone.

"And who is this delightful young woman?" A woman with a light southern twang in her voice asked, looking at you as if you were a caged animal on display.

"I wasn't aware you had a daughter, Dr. Lecter." The young man beside her laughed. "Or is she your side piece?"

Your eyes scanned the room for the nearest exit. It would be unbecoming to make a scene, so you plotted a way to slip out quietly.

“Darling, meet Dr. Charlotte Ramset and her TA, David.” Hannibal introduced, notably ignoring the young man. “Dr. Ramset, this is my intended, [F/N] [L/N].”

"I didn't realize she was also a ventriloquist!" The lady, presumably Dr. Ramset, joked. You'd heard that one a million times. She looked at you. "Tell me about yourself, sweetie. What are you studying?"

The lady was old enough to be your grandmother and reeked of too much perfume.

"I graduated last year." You said, quietly. "With a BA in business."

"See, there's a good woman." David added. "Only speaks when spoken to. They don't make ’em like you anymore, baby."

Hannibal tightened his grip on your hand. "On the contrary, David. See, Miss [L/N] is quite a bit like myself. She only dignifies those she deems worthy with a response. There's nothing wrong with being selective."

The lady laughed at David's expense and smiled at you. "Good for you."

You smiled back just a little, not ready to bring your guard down yet. "I've had to deal with more than enough. It's best not to engage."

"Oh, I know, I know." The lady said, shaking her head. "That's how it is for us educated gals. Always having to put up with pigs. See, I went to college in the sixties, so I can tell you some real stories."

This was a new experience. Talking to Hannibal's friends and having them listen to you was something you never considered possible. Now, you were one of the educated gals. You were just about to strike up a conversation with this woman, when the man next to her decided someone desperately needed to play devil’s advocate.

“I find that sexist, actually.” He cut in. “Not all men are pigs.” 

The silence following his comment was deafening and you wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Whatever progress Hannibal and Dr. Ramset made breaking down your defenses was completely reversed and you were ready to retreat.

Dr. Ramset took a long sip of wine and adjusted her shawl. “David, none of us said anything about men, you drew that conclusion yourself.”

“I mean, look at you.” David gestured to your dress. You knew exactly where this was going and you wished you could just disappear. “You’re basically asking for it.” 

Dr. Ramset glared at him. “David, that’s enough.” 

“I’m just stating facts.” David crossed his arms. “If you dress like a slut, what do you expect?”

Dr. Ramset and Hannibal seemed to have an entire conversation through prolonged eye contact before one of them broke the silence. 

"Charlotte, I hate to have to excuse myself so soon, but the president of the university is expecting me." Hannibal said, dropping your hand. Your heart hit the floor when you realized that he would be throwing you to the wolves.

"Of course, Dr. Lecter." She nodded. "Duty calls."

"I trust you'll keep an eye on my beloved [F/N] in my absence?" His voice hardened. The severity in his tone frightened you.

Dr. Ramset didn't seem disturbed or even surprised in the slightest by his gently threatening demand. "Of course."

"Thank you. And [F/N]?" He said, pressing his lips to the back of your hand. "I won't be going far. Please, try to have fun."

You tried not to look affronted, but you were going to have a long talk with Hannibal when you got home. 

"I'm just saying what everyone is thinking." David continued, his inability to take a hint positively astounding. "Why don't you respect yourself enough to cover up, [F/N]? You have a boyfriend!"

Your eyes scrolled across the room looking for any sign of Hannibal, but he was gone. Dr. Ramset finished her wine and stared at her TA with the resigned disgust of a death row jailer.

"Any other thoughts?" She said, snatching a fresh glass of wine. You looked at her with a clear expression of discomfort.

"Come on, do you see any other woman in the room dressed so provocatively?" David's voice broke mid-sentence. "No. Because they're educated enough to know that real men don't care about their bodies."

The hotel clerk approached the group. "Mr. Hosmer, there's a call for you."

David narrowed his eyes. "Uh, what?"

"Someone is on the phone asking for you." The clerk repeated. "Says it's an emergency."

David shrugged. "Fine."

Just when you thought you would be rid of him, at least for a moment, he planted his hands on your hips in attempt to "get by" you. His touch was like that of an insect crawling across your skin; unexpected, filthy and leaving you squeamish.

"I'm so sorry about that." Dr. Ramset's words echoed in your ears, but you didn't really hear them. You were too focused on grounding yourself to process what she was saying. 

“Dr. Ramset?” You said, quietly. “Which one is the president of the university?” 

She glanced at a tall woman in a dark blue suit, surrounded by equally important looking businesspeople. You followed her eyes. “That’s Dr. Mary Hosmer.”

Your ounce of righteous fury was squelched in two seconds when the reality of having to talk to someone, especially someone of stature, set in. You looked sheepishly back at Dr. Ramset. 

“Could you please ask her where Hannibal went?” You whispered. “I’d really like him to take me home now.” 

Her face turned sympathetic. “Of course, [F/N]. Stay right there.” 

You nodded. “Thank you.” 

Dr. Ramset crossed the floor and politely greeted the president. You took a few slow, calculated steps closer, just to get in earshot.

“Pardon me, but, have you seen Dr. Hannibal Lecter?” Dr. Ramset said, casually. 

“I wasn’t aware Hannibal had even arrived yet.” The president answered. “I haven’t seen him.” 

Your eyes widened. You fought the urge to freeze, but you had to move back before Dr. Ramset knew you’d been eavesdropping. You heard everything you needed and rushed back to where she’d left you.

“Dr. Hosmer said he stepped out.” She told you upon her return. “He should be back soon.” 

You tried not to show that you knew she was lying. “...oh.” 

“Would you like me to stay with you until he comes back?” 

You knew you were completely on your own. You didn’t know what was going on, but you had an inkling that it had to do with the president and David sharing a last name. All you knew for certain was that you couldn’t trust anybody. 

“Don’t bother.” You shook your head. You took off for the door, but Dr. Ramset grabbed your wrist. 

“I’m sorry, [F/N].” Her voice dropped to a low whisper. She didn’t look mad, but afraid. “But Dr. Lecter told me to stay with you. Please. Don’t make this harder for me.”

You recalled how seriously threatening Hannibal’s request was. She wasn’t answering to the president of the university. She was answering to Hannibal. You didn’t know whether to be scared or relieved. 

“Right.” You conceded, stepping back in. “I’m sorry.” 

The actual award ceremony was much longer than it needed to be, and it dragged on even longer knowing there was no reason for you to be there. Other than that, you awkwardly followed Dr. Ramset around the party like a lost puppy the whole time. You were back to your original plan: blend in, be quiet and make it through the night. 

Just when you thought the party would never end, someone tapped you on the arm. You turned around, hoping with every fiber of your being that it was Hannibal, but it wasn’t. A tall woman in a dark blue suit stared back at you. 

“I’m sorry to bother you, miss.” She said, apologetically. “But have you seen my son? I saw him talking to you and Dr. Charlotte earlier, perhaps he told you where he was going?” 

You’d pushed that man completely out of your mind. You shook your head. “He left to take a phone call and I haven’t seen him since.” 

A hand found your shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Hosmer, but I believe I saw the boy on his phone out in the lobby.” 

“Dr. Lecter!” The president’s eyes widened. “How nice of you to finally join us.” 

“...Yes, I believe he left right after making unwarranted comments towards my intended here.” Hannibal ran his hand down your arm lovingly. 

“Well, boys will be boys.” The president chuckled. “Maybe you should teach your girlfriend not to wear such revealing clothes.” 

Hannibal smiled and pulled you in protectively. “Whatever the case, I hope you find him very soon.” 

Her phone chimed in her back pocket. “Oh, that’s him right now.” 

“Wonderful.” Hannibal said. “[F/N] and I will be taking our leave.” 

He hurried you towards the door, his hand tight around yours. A blood-curdling scream came from behind you. You looked back for just a moment and found the president hollering in pain and falling to her knees. 

“Let’s go, darling.” Hannibal tugged at your arm. “They don’t deserve your presence.” 

“Hannibal, I swear.” You said, once you were in the safety of the car. “If you killed every man who looked at me like a piece of meat, sooner or later, there won’t be any men left.” 

Hannibal smirked and reached for his seatbelt. “Wonderful.”