#Rhys is garlic

[adventures-written]

What kind of herb are you?

Muse: Rhys Strongfork

Garlic

You leave an impression wherever you go. Your heart is so strong, so determined, so willing to go after whatever hole you see in the world, whatever wound you need to fix next. You're there. You're justice, hot red and pure gold, fairness incarnate, a paladin in shining armor come to protect and cleanse and heal and yet sometimes you wonder if you're the most corrupt, dirty being in the world, a fraud, a monster in hero's clothing. The world is so intense and you are so small, so fragile, and no matter how hard you try you're never good enough. You want to be good. You want to be good enough. You try so hard and yet the world is so dark and angry and cruel. Perfection is always just out of reach and you want things to be okay so bad you bleed with it. You just want things to be right, to be good, to be fair, but you don't know if they ever can be. If you can ever be.

Tagged by the lovely: @wolfsmuses

Tagging (only if you want): @acrophobicdouble​, @nicholas-wolfwood​, @mythoustales​ (Ather), @firsthumandisaster​, @avataroftheswarm​, and anyone else who would like.

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

06/29/2024 - 06/30/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; Guz Khan; Vico Ortiz; Rachel House; How To Fuck Off With Con O'Neill: CW; AdoptOurCrew Charity Raffle Update; Gold Derby Voting; Fan Spotlight: Cast Cards; Our Flag Means Fanfiction; Big Gay Energy Podcast; Teal Oranges & Garlic Soup Week; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Today's Taika

== Rhys Darby ==

Quick sighting of Rhys with Kirk Thatcher and another commercial for FFXIV!

Source: kirkrthatcher's Instagram

Source: FFXIV's Instagram

== Taika Waititi ==

Quick shot of Taika and Rita with Andy Hernden!

Source: Andyhernden's Instagram

= Guz Khan =

A shot of Guz with Mark Silcox-- apparently this is a hint at Season 5 of Guz' show Man Like Mobeen!

Source: Guz Khan Official Twitter

== Vico Ortiz ==

Lots more sightings of Vico out and about!

Source: Vico Ortiz Instagram

== Rachel House ==

Yet another chat show with Rachel house!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by The Last Video Store (@lastvideostorebetoota)

Source: The Last Video Store instagram

CW: Con O'Neill in Underwear under the cut.

== How to Fuck Off w/ Con O'Neill ==

Many of our crewmates attended the Momentus class with Con O'Neill on Saturday! When Samba did his cooking class, the video was released to youtube a week or so later so hopefully this one will be too. I did try to transcribe some of the information, if it is quoted it should be word for word minus uhms. Non quoted is paraphrased. This was 3 hours long if you did the meet and greet so I've only added what I was able to get through. If I have time I'll transcribe more.

Con showed up on camera with no pants on

Re Izzy: When David approached him, Izzy was just a thought, a husk yet to be formed

David saw Izzy as a Salieri from Amadeus, or Iago (from Othello)

Con "Agreed with David" but also "saw [Izzy] as a man desperately, painfully in love. So his passion, and his anger, and his fear and his love, all erupted in his expletives, i loved him from the off, I loved his directness, I loved his fearlessness, pain, and of course his fabulous use of profanities"

Con then taught the class how to do various types of "fucks" "shits", "twats" etc.

Some fun quotes:

"A happy shit is one with a smile"

"A sad shit is one you say with a frown"

"Everyone give me an orgasmic twat"

Some Transcribed BTS Info:

"In Season 1 I was terrified of ad-libbing, improv, which I've said many times. We had great writers and everything we needed was on the page-- Except for the day 'Daddy' came to visit."

"I have no idea where that line came from, no idea which part of my dark perverted psyche it erupted from but as soon as it was out, it was out."

"In Season 2, again, everything I needed was on the page, our writers are/were will always be spectacular, they gave Izzy such beautiful stuff, and I will be forever grateful to them, to David Jenkins, to the whole cast and crew, and to you all for your continued support."

"But towards the end of the shoot, we were filming the tavern scene with me and Erroll, aka Ricky and it was the 'belonging to something' which was so beautifully written it took my breath away."

"And we shot many many takes, and I was tired, and emotional, and I knew we had it nearly. There was something missing. There was a beat, a moment to end what was really Izzy's epitaph. And then-- our brilliant director Fernando came up to me and he whispered in my ear 'we'll do one more take, let him go' and we started the take and I could feel myself getting emotional."

"This was Izzy's big moment, it had to be right, it had to be right, and then as we reached this final line, instead of what was written, I heard Izzy say: 'and you are a rancid syphilitic cunt' and to my dying day, I will never ever understand how we got that on the telly, but we did because sometimes in life only a rancid syphillitic cunt will suffice."

== Adopt Our Crew Pride Month Charity Raffle Update ==

Well done everyone! $7041.72 was raised for 148 LGBTQ+ charities around the world! Thank you so much to @adoptourcrew for all the wonderful work they did and all our crewmates for all the donated art, writing, crafts, etc to make this happen!

Source: Adopt Our Crew's Twitter

== Gold Derby Voting ==

Rhys, Taika, and Our Flag Means Death are up for some more nominations-- this time the Gold Derby for best Comedy Series / Comedy Actors! It does require you to sign up, but if you'd like to add to the nominations you can follow this handy guide:

Thank you to @adoptourcrew for sharing the goldderby information!

Source: AdoptOurCrew's Twitter

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Cast Cards =

More cast cards from our dear @melvisik!

Simone Grace: "Tonight's is another Emmy submission "for Outstanding Period Costumes in a Series for Impossible Birds" - @adoptourcrew"

Francesco Toby: "Credited as Jean Luc, the beret-wearing French sailor in Pete's story."

Source: @melvisik's Twitter

= OFMD Colouring Pages! =

Once again our kind and wonderful friend @PatchworkPirateBear has more colouring pages for Pride month! Hosted by @adoptourcrew! Wanna following PatchworkPirateBear for more colouring pages? Visit their socials!:  Instagram / Twitter / Tumblr 

Source: AdoptOurCrew's Tumblr

= Our Flag Means Fanfiction =

There's a new episode by our lovely friends over at Our Flag Means Fanfiction! This time a ranking of the top 10 Rhys Darby moments by members of the Rhys Darby Faction! Visit https://linktr.ee/ofmff to pick out your favourite listening platform!

Source: Our Flag Means Fanfiction Instagram

== Big Gay Energy Pod ==

Another episode of Big Gay Energy Pod! This time covering Season 2 Episodes 5/6! Check them out on Youtube, or their https://linktr.ee/biggayenergypod!

Source: Big Gay Energy Pod Instagram

== Teal Oranges & Garlic Soup Week ==

As you may remember, our crewmates over at @garlicsoupweek have been hosting a wonderful prompt week for our favorite Polycule! I would love to do a much bigger fan spotlight, but I was only able to get permission from some of the artists to share-- so I'll do more if I can get more permissions from folks! You can also scroll through all the awesome art/writing/edits on @garlicsoupweek!

= OhTangerine=

First up is the absolute stunning work done by @ohtangerines on Instagram and here on tumblr! The faces, and background detail is just so amazing-- please visit them on instagram or here on tumblr to check out more of their awesome work! Check them out on the various socials on their carrd! https://ohtangerines.carrd.co/

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by 🍊Maria I. (@ohtangerines)

Source: @ohtangerines's Instagram

= Sonorawent =

Next up for Teal Oranges is our dear crewmate @sonorawent! Check out their incredibly gorgeous water colour of our Jim and Oluwande! I adore the colour blending! You can follow them on Twitter / Tumblr!

Source: sonorawent's Twitter

= Blackbeardskneebrace =

Our next artist spotlight is none other than the magnificent @blackbeardskneebrace! You may recognise them from their wide variety of artwork styles (medieval, peanuts, tradition, etc) whatever style they decide to create in -- they've gifted this fandom with such beautiful work! Please visit their tumblr, or their Ko-fi, or their twitter for more brilliant work!

Source: BlackbeardsKneeBrace's Tumblr

= _SilverSheep =

Next up on our fan spotlight for the evening is @_silversheep on twitter! This adorable rendition of Cambell's Soup has such cute details hidden in the label, I'm so glad she was kind enough to allow me to share it with you! You can check them out here on their twitter, or her https://linktr.ee/asisherright !

Source: _Silversheep's Twitter

= LibroseITM =

Back again is our absolutely lovely @libroseitm! They were kind enough to let me share this steamy scene with our Polycule for @garlicsoupweek based off of Sense8! Want to check out more of their work? Visit @libroseitm on Tumblr, or Twitter for more beautiful work from LIb!

Source: LibRoseITM's Twitter

= ipomoea-batatas =

Next in our fan spotlight is the briliiant @ipomoea-batatas! I cannot tell you how much I adore the detail on their work! Look at those faces, it's like looking at our dear Archie, Jim, and Olu in person! Capturing Olu's smile and excitement is no small feat too! Wanna check out more of their awesome OFMD art? Please visit their tumblr here on tumblr!

Source: ipomoea-batatas's Tumblr

= TheseAreTheKids =

Another incredibly talented crewmate - thesearethekids on twitter put together this very sweet cross-stitch pattern for our polycule! She was kind enough to make a downloadable PDF chart and put it up on her Ko-Fi as well so you can work on it yourself. Want to follow them for more cross stitch/embroidery fun? Visit their Twitter!

Source: TheseAreTheKids Twitter

= ErosTheArtist =

Back again with more artwork from the lovely @erostheartist! This time with our Polycule in the Teal Orange outfits! I love it! Love their work? Follow them here on tumblr, or on instagram/check out their https://linktr.ee/eros_the_artist!

Source: Eros The Artist Tumblr

== Love Notes ==

Hey there lovelies! I hope you had a wonderful weekend-- and an even better pride month! There has been so much queer joy this month-- and everyone's been celebrating being themselves and celebrating all the wonderful people around them-- and I'm so very happy so many of you have gotten to experience that. If you aren't out yet, or pride isn't your thing, or maybe this month is always tough on you, that's okay too. Your safety, and comfort is more important than anything, so please don't feel bad if you aren't experiencing that joy like others are. Just know that no matter what stage of your journey you are in-- your crew loves and cares for you. I wanted to send a gentle reminder, I know that after so much excitement, sometimes our brains can rebound a bit and go the same distance in the other direction. This is perfectly normal lovelies, so if you feel a bit sad tomorrow or the upcoming month, just remember to take it in stride. If you are feeling heavy feelings, remember to embrace them and acknowledge them, and let them go in your own time. No matter what gender, sexuality, or various degree of queer you are, or not queer at all, please know that you are so very loved crew. Truly truly loved. You are beautiful, and unique, and brilliant, and wonderful, and no one gets to say otherwise, okay?

Rest well lovelies, tomorrow is another day.

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

Tonight's gif just exudes Last Day of Pride Month for me -- as well as running straight into July's Queer Wrath! Tonight's gif courtesy of the wonderful @edsrosetattoo!

[ofmdrecaps]

07/03/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; Leslie Jones; Ruibo Qian; Dominic Burgess; Samba Schutte; Logie Awards; AdoptOurCrew; Auxillery Wardrobe Zine; Teal Oranges & Garlic Soup Week Spotlight Cont'd; Fan Spotlight; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Today's Taika

New month, new blog! Thanks everyone, as you probably can tell there's a new blog for the recaps! I'm doing this to allow for some more silly shenanigans to happen on my main, but also keep the recaps available and more easily accessible to those who want them! For the first few weeks I'll be reblogging them from main, but then will eventually move to just here so as not to overwhelm anyone following. Thanks so much for reading! I love doing these and I was actually surprised how many people followed! I didn't realize so many people were reading, so tysm that warms my heart and made my day!

== Rhys Darby ==

Rhys will be join Baron Vaughn and Rory Scovel on AfterMidnight with Taylor Tomlinson on July 8th, 3 PM PST in Los Angelos, CA! Are you in the area? You can request tickets on their website!

Source: 1iota's Instagram

Next up-- Peacock has posted an exclusive clip of the upcoming The Hungry Games: Alaska's Big Bear Challenge-- starring the voice of our very own Rhys Darby!

== Taika Waititi ==

Awesome new promo for Time Bandits! I'm gonna keep reminding you because I'm actually super psyched for this. July 24th on Apple TV!

Source: Matt_Grace_Photography

== Leslie Jones ==

Leslie out with the LA Sparks! <3 Also, did you know Leslie will be voicing a character in the New Hulu series Hit Monkey? I didn't know! New seasons starts July 15th!

Source: LA Sparks IG / JoshuaGordon

== Ruibo Qian ==

Our Pirate Queen is going to be taking on the role of Ms. Sherlock Holmes in Ms.Holmes & Ms.Watson in APT 2B at the Old Globe Theatre in San Deigo CA! You can buy tickets for July 27th, opening day -- or any of the showings here!

Source: OldGlobeTheatre Instagram

== Dominic Burgess ==

Dominic is gracing us once again with cat pics. I love it <3

Source: Dominic Burgess' Twitter

== Samba Schutte ==

More pictures with Samba at Dancing with Fire LA with the cast / crew of Advanced Chemistry!

Source: alecmoore219's Instagram

== Logie Award Nominations ==

REMINDER! Our beloved Mads, aka Eddie Redcliffe in Deadloch, aka The Baddest MF in Tasmania, has been nominated for a 2024 Logie for Best Lead Actress! So was Kate Box, her costar, and Deadloch was nominated for Best Scripted Comedy Program!

-- and guess what? It's done by vote! If you feel so inclined, please take a moment to go and vote for our dear Archie/Deadloch (or Dulcie whomever you'd like)! https://vote.tvweeklogies.com.au/ Note: You do need to use your email to submit, just FYI!

== Adopt Our Crew ==

Looks like something exciting will be coming soon from @adoptourcrew! I think I might have an idea what it may be related to...

Source: Adopt Our Crew Twitter

== Auxiliary Wardrobe Zine ==

There's a new non-profit charity zine starting up-- in honor of our beloved Captain Stede and OFMD!

"From his flamboyant coats to his sword-slashed shirts, we want to celebrate EVERY way that Stede and fashion come together! Whether this be a canon look you're fond of, his job as a luxury fashion designer in an AU, or Stede in a style of clothing you personally love (or lack of clothing… pinups anyone?!) we encourage contributors to make this prompt their own. This zine will be a digital-only PDF and will consist of a SFW edition and a NSFW edition featuring fanart and fanfic. All proceeds for the zine will go to Care for Gaza."

Want to learn more? You can visit their carrd.co below for scheduling and FAQ's!

Info & FAQ: https://auxiliarywardrobezine.carrd.co

Artist & Writer Signups will start July 6, 2024!

Follow them on Instagram and Twitter!

Source: The Auxiliary Wardrobe: A Stede Bonnet Zine

== Teal Oranges & Garlic Soup Week Spotlights ==

Teal Oranges & Garlic Soup Week may be over, but that doesn't mean the spotlights have to end! Tonight we have the fantastic @hameko1019! I absolutely adore her style and use of color! You can check her work out on Hameko1019's Twitter! Thank you again to @garlicsoupweek for the wonderful prompts!

Day 1 / Day 2 / Day 3 / Day 4 / Day 5 / Day 6 / Day 7 / Bonus

Source: Hameko1019's Twitter

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Cast Cards =

Tonight's cast card by our fantastic @melvisik is Jordan Feldman who "was listed as 'Heavily Made-Up Man' in The Best Revenge is Dressing Well."

Source: @melvisik's Twitter

== Love Notes ==

Well lovelies, you've made it half way through another week. Only half more to go-- for those of you in the UK, good luck at the elections! For those in the US, tomorrow is July 4th, and while I know there are mixed feelings this year in the US, please remember to take some time to relax and enjoy a day off if you have it.

You're doing so very well friends. There is SO much going on in the world, so much going on in the fandom, so much going on in your lives. But you are still kicking, and I'm so very proud of you for that. If you need to take a break-- do it. Give yourself some grace and get some rest, the world will still be there in a few days. If you've already done that and you're taking some time to yourself-- great job-- you deserve it. Remember that we will still be here, and we will still love you when you get back. Ed and Stede? Still in love when you get back. They're off terrorising some poor patron of their Inn with stories of being gut stabbed, or forcing them to watch a puppet show they came up with.

You're kicking ass at whatever struggles you are dealing with right now-- give yourself time to celebrate the fact you're surviving them. Rest well lovelies, see you soon <3

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

Tonight's theme is these two goof balls singing. Someone help me find Taika singing Queen, cause then we'll have some gif smushes <3 Tonight's gifs courtesy of @celluloidbroomcloset and @eddie-redcliffe!!

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

We had one of Steff's comedian friends staying with us on the weekend, lovely lad called Sam from Singapore. He had never been to Wales before, and he requested that we take him to a Welsh restaurant so he could try Welsh food

That's surprisingly difficult, actually. Like a lot of Welsh culture, our culinary traditions have not exactly been applauded over the years, so you don't really see them. But a lucky Google search revealed a brand new one has just opened in SA1 called the Welsh House, so great! Away we went.

Fuck me, they went all in.

It wasn't just the menu (though fuck me, what a menu - one of their 'for the table to share' options was little mini leek and cheddar Welsh cakes with salted butter and they were paralysingly good). It wasn't just that every alcohol was Welsh, even including the wine (surprisingly good btw, called 'Naturiol'.)

The table centerpieces were daffodils. All signs for the toilets were Welsh only. The walls had photos of Wales, modern and historical; the windows had the fleur de lis; the specials board (pork belly in Welsh cider and damson sauce with honey and wild garlic glazed carrots) had dragons on. I realise this is probably normal for country-themed restaurants, but I've never been to one for Wales before.

But the best bit, see, was the music

I clocked, when we walked in, that they were playing If You Tolerate This Then Your Children Will Be Next by the Manic Street Preachers (you always clock the Manics). Ah, I thought. A Welsh song! In a Welsh restaurant! Ho ho ho.

As they seated us, it became What's New Pussycat. Ah! I thought. Another Welsh song! Fu fu fu.

Then they played Monster by the Automatic and I was like my god are they only playing Welsh music?? That's so cool! What an eclectic mix that's going to be. We should suggest to them they should look into Welsh language music too, really mix it up.

And then they played Anrheoli by Yws Gwynedd and lads, Steff and I lost our shit. We lost our fucking shit. Sam's sitting there, utterly bewildered. The staff are nervously edging away from us. We don't care. It's the first time I have ever heard a Welsh language song played outside of a Welsh language setting. We're so excited.

"They're playing Welsh music!!!" says Steff. "Holy shit!!!"

"Imagine if they played Sebona Fi!" I say, humorously.

"Nah," says Steff. "You can't in a restaurant. There'd be a riot, it's faerie music."

"...what?" says Sam

We explain the cultural phenomenon that is Sebona Fi. The song changes: Primadonna Girl, by Marina and the Diamonds.

"She's Welsh??" says Sam.

"She's from Abergavenny!" we beam.

"I don't know what that means," nods Sam, who is from Singapore.

Next: The Bartender and the Thief, by the Stereophonics. We're in high spirits. The extraordinarily Welsh wine arrives, as does the rarebit on sourdough starter. Sam, a gay man, delightedly orders the faggots and peas.

They play Ben Rhys by Gwilym Bowen Rhys, and we lose our shit again. Sam is now used to this, because comedians are adaptable. "They even have daffodils!" I say, misty eyed. "Is that relevant?" Sam asks, fascinated.

They play Hiraeth, by PLU. Hard to explain that one. Very hard to explain the effect it has when it's played in a restaurant, but Sam looks around the suddenly muted room and whispers "Are we in church?"

"It's about Hiraeth," whispers Steff. "So kind of."

Next: the Masses Against the Classes, by the Manics. Utter tonal whiplash. This playlist is not remotely restaurant appropriate. It's perfect.

"You'd think they'd pick like... a genre," Sam says dreamily. "We just went from church to the barricades."

The faggots arrive. "I forgot it would be a western sized portion," Sam says morosely, of what to me is a normal sized plate of food. He tries one, and brightens.

They play Sebona Fi.

The place erupts.

[imaginesandbandfiction]

Second Chances

Pairing: Cassian x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: This is part 2 of Second Choices! Part 3 will be a shamelessly smutty epilogue so click here to be added to the taglist to be notified when that's live!

Warnings: Drinking, little bit of angst/alludes to a history of abuse

Rhysand returned from Windhaven just in time for dinner, rested and refreshed after a long weekend holed up in his mother’s cottage with the male he’d been casually seeing for the past few months. In addition to being pretty, Austris had a wicked tongue that kept Rhys thoroughly distracted. 

It was three days of pure bliss; of forgetting about his duties and giving into every whim and desire that struck him without thought. While he dreaded returning to work and his responsibilities, the thought of spending the evening catching up with his family put a little bounce in his step as he landed outside the House of Wind. 

The outdoor dining table was set, silver trays piled high with juicy, slow-cooked meats, a rainbow of roasted vegetables, and potatoes whose garlic-and-rosemary glaze wafted in the early evening breeze. Fae lights floated above, illuminating the feast in a soft glow. Behind it all, he saw his family sprawled out on the lounge chairs. Judging by the scattered bottles littering the ground around them, he had lots of catching up to do.  

He took one step and then Mor jumped up, waving her wine glass towards him. 

“Rhys is back!” She exclaimed, nearly tripping over her own feet as she rushed towards him. “Time to eat!” Her voice was suspiciously loud, though he supposed that happened when one drank too much on an empty stomach. 

He chuckled and accepted the one-armed hug she offered. 

“Good to see you too, cousin,” he said, guiding her towards the table. “You must be really hungry.” 

Amren stalked past, face pinched in a scowl. 

“You have no idea,” she grumbled as she plopped down in a chair. She reached for an unopened bottle of red wine and uncorked it with her teeth, filling her goblet to the brim. 

Rhys’ eyebrows skyrocketed towards his hairline, turning to throw a questioning look at Az and Cas as they made their way to the table. The Shadowsinger’s face was impenetrable, as usual, but in three centuries of friendship Rhys had never seen Cassian look so pitiful. His wings drooped dangerously close to brushing against the ground, and his hair was a loose, tangled mess that hung over his face. Beneath it, shadows lined bloodshot eyes that were cast downward, lacking their usual spark of mischief.  

Azriel shook his head as he passed; the movement was barely more than a twitch but Rhys got the meaning loud and clear. He took his seat and poured himself a hefty glass of wine; he had a feeling he was going to need it. 

Everyone settled at the table, refilling drinks and piling food onto their plates, yet there was a gaping hole between Mor and Cas where you should have been. 

“Where’s Y/N?” He asked, not thinking much of your absence although he was disappointed that he wouldn’t get to catch up with you before it was back to business as usual the next morning. 

Suddenly, everyone stilled with their forks and goblets held aloft. It was too quiet. Panic jolted his heart into a sprint as he took in the frozen faces of his Inner Circle looking like children caught sneaking sweets before supper. 

Finally, Amren spoke, glaring at Cas as she spat, “Ask Cassian.” 

The Lord of Bloodshed glared at her and pushed away from the table, chair clattering to the ground behind him. 

“I’m eating in my room,” he snarled, stabbing the fattest, rarest steak with his fork and plopping it on top of the vegetables piled on his plate. 

“Cauldron boil me, I leave you alone for three days,” Rhys muttered, downing his wine in one long gulp. 

—

Earlier that day, Amren had stopped by your room and offered to skip dinner with you, but you were looking forward to a quiet evening in the library. Alone. After storming out on Cassian, your two best (female) friends had spent the night in your room with you, drinking straight from the bottle of Illyrian moonshine you’d pilfered from Rhys’ secret stash until you passed out in a tangled mess of limbs and hair somewhere between midnight and dawn. 

They’d only agreed to leave when you threatened to show Rhys the memory of them breaking into his room using only a hairpin the night before. And even then, every two hours or so you’d get a knock and a quiet “Just checking in!” from one or the other. You suspected they drew up a schedule, and though you were grateful to have such caring friends, what you really needed was peace and quiet. 

It was hard to wrap your head around just how much things had changed within a span of twenty-four hours. But curled up amongst the stacks of old books in a plush armchair tucked away in a little alcove, you finally managed to admit to yourself that you could have handled things better. After all, you were the one that made this mess for yourself—you should have known better than to shit-talk Cassian’s girlfriend—and instead of apologizing, you’d fucked things up even further. 

With a sigh, you cracked open the stiff leather cover of your journal and flipped to a blank page, letting your pencil hover above it. Not one to pay too much attention to emotions and feelings, the little book hadn’t gotten much use in the nearly two centuries since Rhysand had gifted it to you. 

But when your brain was twisted into too many knots that not even a night of drinking with your friends could untangle, the only thing that seemed to help was spilling your guts onto paper. Seeing your thoughts laid out in graphite helped you make sense of them, so you pressed down the tip of your pencil and forced your hand to move. 

Cassian is my mate. He’s my mate and I fucked everything up and he probably wants nothing to do with me. 

I’ve been trying to ignore it, to push down these stupid feelings. I thought it was just the bond trying to force me into something more with someone who was supposed to be my best friend. Just a friend. 

But if I’m being completely honest, I think I’ve always been a little bit in love with him. After all, you don’t sleep with someone on and off for half a century if there isn’t at least some baseline of attraction. 

I don’t know, I guess I just always assumed that since my father didn’t want me and my mother only wanted me for the child support check, well, no one would ever want me. Not forever; not as a wife and definitely not as a mate. 

I’m too damaged for anyone. 

Too damaged for Cassian. 

Having him as a friend forever was more important than trying for more. It was too big of a risk, and I couldn’t lose him. Couldn’t lose my family, not when I finally got one that stuck around. 

I could sleep with him, though. It was transactional; a mutual itch-scratching made purposefully hazy by Mirthroot and alcohol. In those stolen moments, I could pretend I was someone else. Someone worth keeping. 

Mor thinks I’m insane for keeping the bond to myself for so long, but we were fucking regularly enough to take the edge off and, well. I learned to grit my teeth and take it on the chin before I got my first cycle. 

I’m good at pushing things down, at pretending to be okay. Even if he does want me, I don’t know if I can handle it. That deep, emotional intimacy without anywhere to hide. 

Your hand flew across the page as words poured out of the deepest, darkest parts of you. The things you kept hidden from everyone, including yourself. Tears swelled in the corners of your eyes which stung from the effort it took to keep them from falling. 

And then you felt a gentle knock against your mental shields. Rhys must be back. You peel them back just enough to let his voice in. 

Y/N? Can I come down and say hi to my favorite sister? 

I’m your only sister, motherfucker. I better be your favorite. 

He waited, a soft breath of a presence within your mind, swirling winds of calm smoothing out the edges of the turbulent waves crashing around in there. 

Even though, normally, you’d rather die than let anyone see you like this, you agreed. 

Fine. But only because I missed you, you stupid bat. 

Love you too, sis. 

You closed the journal and tucked it beneath one thigh, adjusting the blanket you’d brought down with you so it’s fully covering the little book. It didn’t take long before you heard his light footsteps descending the stairs. Using the back of your hand, you wiped away the lingering moisture in your eyes and then straightened in your seat. 

“Skipping my welcome home dinner?” He asked as he approached your little reading nook, a lazy grin and raised eyebrows painted on his face. 

You scoffed, careful to keep your journal hidden as you stood up to throw yourself into his open, waiting arms. His wings closed around the two of you and you’re grateful for the extra pressure against your back. 

“I missed you too,” he muttered into your hair, pulling your face tight to his chest. 

The two of you stood there for a long time; Rhys could always sense when you needed something steady to hold onto. He claims it started before he even knew he had a sister, that sometimes late at night he could hear muffled sobs echoing in the back of his mind. That a gaunt little girl trapped under the mountain haunted his dreams for years before he was allowed to visit.

His father made sure he stayed away. 

But as Rhys settled into his powers and got full control of them, he was able to establish a stable connection. It took a while before you trusted him; after all, you grew up with your mother telling you that the High Lord and his heir despised you. 

Your sire, as Mother called him, had thrown her under the Mountain as soon as he found out she was pregnant. Set her up with a place to stay and not much else; you had a new stepfather every few years, and each one was worse than the last. The Black Widow, they called her, as her husbands had a habit of dying in unfortunate accidents. 

As adults, you and Rhys were closer than most siblings, even those that grew up together. Unfortunately, that meant you had no choice but to get your shit together because running away was not an option. 

“Wanna tell me why my General looks like a kicked puppy?” Rhys murmured into your hair. You felt the bond clench, tugging on your heart, and groan against your brother’s chest. 

He ran a comforting hand up and down your back and you signed, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to keep what happened a secret for much longer, what with all the meddling busybodies you surrounded yourself with.

“We fought,” you muttered. “I’ve been avoiding him ever since.” 

“And what, pray tell, did you fight about?” 

You lifted your head, eyes glistening in the low candlelight as you blinked up at your brother. Heaving a sigh, you tell him everything that happened while he was gone. As soon as you opened your mouth, the words spilled out of you like they’d been waiting for the opportunity to escape. 

Rhys had to stifle a chuckle when you finished your story because he loved you, but Mother above, you could be so stupid sometimes. 

“Oh, Y/N,” he sighed, tugging you closer. He rested his chin on the top of your head and tugged on the ends of your hair with one hand. 

You batted it away, groaning again. 

“Listen, I’m not going to tell you what to do because I know you hate that,” he started, negating your protests before they had a chance to form. “But I think you need to talk to him. Unless you plan on avoiding him for the rest of your life, you’re going to need to work things out one way or another.” 

“I could defect to another Court, I hear Summer’s wonderful this time of year.” Rhys shoved you towards the front of the library, ruffling your hair. 

“Talk to him, you insufferable brat.” 

—

It was surprisingly easy to find Cassian. He nearly knocked you over with the force of his pacing as you rounded the corner into the hallway leading to the kitchen and dining room. 

“Oh, Y/N, hi,” he said, one arm bending to scratch the back of his neck. You could just barely make out a hint of red on the apples of his cheeks, though his tanned skin does a good job of trying to hide it. 

“Hey, Cassie,” you said. His name came out breathier than you intended. “I, uh, wanted to apologize.” Cas was quiet, clearly ready to let you say what you needed to say. He leaned against the wall, nodding at you to keep going. After a deep breath, you did. “I’m sorry for being so rude and dramatic. The bond snapped for me a while ago, and I let the pent-up jealousy and bitterness get to me. That wasn’t fair to you, and I’ll try to be better about keeping my thoughts to myself in the future. Just because we’re bonded doesn’t mean you’re obligated to be with me. Whatever you choose, I’ll respect your decision, I promise.” 

He smirked, pushed away from the wall, and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving you standing there alone and confused. 

A minute later, he was back with a giant cookie clutched in one hand; your favorite. It was a little burnt around the edges, but smells perfect. He closed the distance between the two of you in three long strides, wrapping his free arm around your waist. 

“It’s you, it’s always been you, Y/N,” he breathed, leaning in until his lips hovered over yours for a few long, deliciously agonizing seconds before he pushed forward and captured them in a searing kiss.  

You respond, startled but thrilled, and get lost in each other. He pulls away and holds the cookie to your lips, and you almost bite into it before remembering where you are then take a step back with your cheeks oozing heat, pushing his hand down to his ease the temptation rising from your core, into your chest, and up your throat. After four years of lying dormant, the bond threatened to take control of your body. 

“We should probably go somewhere a bit more.. private,” you say, wrinkling your nose at the thought of someone, Mother forbid your brother, interrupting the frenzy. 

Cassian growled. Going to the cottage, he said to Rhys, melting his mental shields down just enough to let the message flow between their minds. 

Does this mean..? Rhys’s response is hesitant but hopeful.  

Yes, Cassian’s response is gruff. Keep everyone away. I reserve the right to tear any intruders limb from limb. 

He shut the connection, cutting Rhys off mid-cackle. His threat was genuine. Even just the idea of the frenzy has him boiling through his skin. 

Cas scooped you into his arms and took off running down the hallway. As soon as you burst through the back door, he pushed off and then you were soaring through the sky towards Windhaven. 

Towards your future with your mate.

Taglist: @esahintzkanen @loving-and-dreaming @lisanna2000 @jollyflowerkitty @graciepies @evergreenlark @Maewritez @aurorab99 @pescipiccanti @elissanatok @vanserrasimp @mich0731 @juniperberriesaries @sandramalikstyles @ivy-34 @thecraziestcrayon @pey2618

[the-widow-olivia]

Saw that Rhys Darby was going to be in an episode of Night Court, and I got really concerned for any Night Court fans out there who have no idea that there is a flotilla of pirates about to descend on them.

So I made a helpful guide we can give to fans of other shows when OFMD cast members show up.

So your favorite TV show has cast an OFMD actor!

Hello! It's us, the friendly queer pirate crew, here to enjoy your television program alongside you. We don't bite (and even if we do, it usually sets off a hilarious chain of events that ends in a lovely wedding).

You may notice at some point during our time together that one or more OFMD fans will begin foaming at the mouth or melting into the floor as though they have no bones. This is perfectly normal, as all OFMD fans suffer from a severe form of brain rot previously only found in goats.

However, be warned, the following "normal" items may cause ferality in OFMD fans:

- Oranges (petrified or regular)

- The color teal

- The color purple

- The color black

- The color red

- Fuck it, all the colors. We own colors now.

- Goldfish

- Cats

- Seagulls

- Snakes

- Beanies

- Gloves

- Cake (can be combined with oranges)

- Garlic

- Soup

- Garlic soup

- Legs (pronounced "ligs")

- Eyes (“EYEEE!” however, will just make us laugh)

If an OFMD fan becomes a little too feral, you can soothe them by playing Gnossienne No. 5 and putting a blanket over their head until they calm down. Note: Results may vary if said fan is in “clowning” mode.

OFMD fans are a friendly bunch, but we are often socially anxious. Here are a few phrases you can practice at home if you want to befriend an OFMD fan:

“Wow, that Rhys Darby sure has nice legs.”

“That WJW with Con O’Neill got me right in the feels.”

“Our Flag Means Death deserves a third season and all the Emmys.”

Anyhoo, we’re delighted to be here enjoying TV with you, and you are all invited to Calypso’s next birthday. (BYO bathtub)

❤️

The Crew

[asgoodeasgold]

"This is gonna blow your knickers off"

(Trigger warning: if you are Italian, look away now!). When Matthew cooked a bolognese ragù with Ketchup and Oxo cubes 😱 (and other non-authentic items like garlic and herbs) to the dismay of the Italian ladies watching him and Matthew Rhys compete.

Their gasps of horror and disapproving looks every time an unconventional ingredient went in were hilarious. Verdict: "this is interesting" (but not Italian 🤣). Absolutely hilarious (and also very sweet, Matthew was cooking his mama's recipe 🥹). And as usual, the two Matthews were uproarious.

I love a goode bromance

Okaaay, we are in for a treat 🤣

These two are so 💝

If you think tomato paste is shocking, brace yourself

I think that's enough to get you thrown into jail in Italy.

That's called "adding insult to injury."

I think the wine is supposed to go in the sauce Goodey.

They are being polite. But I am sure they love you, you charming, crazy man.

Yeah, may be you are not wrong... or at the very least forever banned from setting foot in Italy.

I wonder why that could be 🤔

You think Rhyssy?

Ah yes, it was the wrong kind of ketchup 🤦🏻‍♀️

Some pics (adorable)

📷 The Wine Show (2016) s1:08 my edits

[theladyofbloodshed]

Hey if you’re taking prompts would you do Nesta finally telling Cassian about Tomas and him comforting her?

To kill two birds with one stone... Nessian snippet. TW for sexual assault.

...

‘You could try being nicer.’

One word. Three letters. Try. Hadn’t she tried enough?

Cassian shrugged. ‘I’m just saying they’re used to their females being meek and looking at the ground rather than staring directly in their eyes. You don’t have to be their friends, just be a bit nicer and don’t take everything they say as an insult.’

That familiar flare of her nostrils came as her knife sliced through a tomato for dinner. ‘I’m sorry aren’t these the same males you said you wished you could push off a cliff?’

‘That was last week. Now, we are in Illyria playing peacemakers so be nice.’

‘I was nice to somebody once who didn’t deserve it. Never again, Cassian.’

The grating tone of her voice had Cassian pausing from peeling cloves of garlic. He glanced sidelong at her, worry furrowing his dark brow.

‘Who?’

Nesta pushed the tomatoes to the edge of the chopping board then attacked the onion with more force than it warranted. ‘Are you asking me for a list of people that I’ve ever been nice to?’

‘No. I’m asking who has made you clench that knife so hard that your knuckles are white.’

Suddenly, Cassian wasn’t her mate anymore. They weren’t in an isolated cabin in Illyria with only the wild, rugged nature for company. She was a mortal receiving a faerie general in her bedroom, waiting expectantly for a letter from her estranged sister. Cassian had crossed the room that day and she had dared to brush her body against his, to press her hand against his chest. Then the memory of Tomas had threatened to drown her and Cassian – somehow – had recognised that brief moment of blind fear. He had held her wrist to his body, demanding to know who had caused that terror to flare behind her eyes. Cassian hadn’t even known her then. But he’d have found Tomas and made him pay.

‘I’m not hungry,’ she declared, releasing the knife and leaving Cassian to prepare a dinner alone.

It took Cassian all of three minutes to follow her up the stairs, move her away from the dresser, and sit her on the edge of the bed. It groaned under his heavy weight as he settled beside her.

‘We’ve had this conversation many times, Nes. You need to open the door, not shut me out.’

‘Why do you care?’

‘Because you know more about my five hundred years than I know about your twenty.’ His knuckles grazed her cheek. ‘Were you talking about Rhys?’

‘My life doesn’t resolve around Rhysand.’

She tried to stand, but Cassian slunk his arm around her waist, pinning her. ‘Tell me.’

‘It was my fault,’ she said, voice as brittle as she felt. ‘I was nice to him. And look where it got me.’

‘Who?’

She forced a breath out from between her pursed lips. It was a wound she’d avoided looking at, even when it ached and pulsed.

‘Why do you still hide from me? You’ve been my mate for a year. Why do you think I won’t support you?’

Nesta couldn’t look at the kindness in his eyes. She still struggled with these declarations because Cassian was always genuine. He would always give rather than take. Her fingers edged closer to his then tangled with them.

‘A boy from the village. There were no options for girls like us – poor girls with no dowry. I was beautiful and untouched but that was all I had to offer. Tomas was poor too. Not as bad as we were, but not rich by any means – not like Graysen. Feyre warned me off of him but then she left.’

Then it fell to Nesta to figure out a way to feed her and Elain’s starving bellies. If she had known that Tamlin would have sent a treasury of gems and jewels, Nesta never would have been nice to Tomas.

‘He hunted like Feyre in the woods. After she’d gone, he caught up with me once and offered to walk me home. I would have said no. I never let boys walk me home. But he had two pheasants hanging in his hand and we were starving. So I was nice to him. I smiled at everything he said, batted my eyelashes when he complimented me, and told him at the end I’d hope to see him again.’ Nesta let out a low laugh. ‘The next day, he brought me a dead pheasant. What a catch.’

Cassian shrugged his shoulders. ‘You did what you needed to so that you were both fed. It’s not the end of the world.’

‘Tomas continued to court me - small walks so I wouldn’t be sequestered in that awful cottage with my father. His mother was often bruised, but I hoped that Tomas was not like his father. If I married him and left then maybe father would do something to feed his precious Elain and I would have a husband to take care of me. But Tomas could speak cruelly about other villagers. He would laugh at the elderly when they struggled, would sneer at the poorest children. I don’t know if he thought it would impress me.’

The walks became insufferable. She began to dread the knock at the door. Any other man would have spoken to her father to gain his permission, would have been polite, would have ensured they had an escort. Any decent or proper man would have.

The more time that they spent in each other’s company, the more Nesta despised him. She had to listen to his insufferable arrogance in exchange for a lump of stringy meat. Had to listen to him talk about the other girls in the village as if he was comparing cattle. It became apparent that, rather than being his father’s opposite, he was moulding Tomas into something worse than him.

Then he had tried to kiss Nesta.

He’d grabbed her suddenly at the edge of the narrow path leading to their cottage.

It had happened so quickly that Nesta barely had enough time to swoop her head upwards. Tomas’ lips had clattered against her jaw. The flush on her face had not been from modesty but sheer mortification that Tomas would dare to grab her like a possession and stake a claim on her without proper courting or permission. Nesta had feigned shyness, but had seethed that night in bed beside Elain. She had barely slept through anger.

‘I was nice to him, Cassian, and do you know what he did?’  

Nesta remembered her mother’s teachings. Always smile and agree with what the men say. Never show anger because a man can always match it and then some. Be palatable. Be agreeable. Be nothing at all - except his.

In the square, where it was quiet but visible, Nesta spoke clearly to Tomas that day. She no longer wanted to spend time with him. There was no dowry to be offered therefore no marriage to occur. It was unfair of her to take his time when a future was impossible. It was the nicest way she could think of that wouldn’t invoke anger. What Nesta had wanted to say was that he was arrogant and rude, and any woman that was forced to spend another moment in his company had likely been cursed. Tomas had taken it well. He’d agreed, dipped his chin and agreed. In fact, when Nesta looked back, it had been too agreeable. Too unlike Tomas Mandray.

He'd emerged that afternoon from the woods like a beast. Nesta had jumped out of her skin. But she had seen the anger in his eyes.

‘Our cottage veered off from the others. It was isolated from anybody else. Tomas knew that.’

Cassian’s fists clenched.

‘Tomas called me a stupid slut who deserved everything I got for leading him on then he dragged me into the forest.’

When they’d been in the war and she’d first heard the healers ripping cloth for bandages, her heart had felt like it was caving in as she remembered the way Tomas’ hands had clawed at her dress, tearing the ribbons clean off and splitting the gown at its seams. It had exposed her chest and the worn chemise below.

‘I managed to get away from him. I wasn’t nice then.’

Only blind terror had helped her navigate that situation. Negotiation was not an option. No niceness would have got her through it. Nesta had scratched and kicked even as Tomas pressed her against tree roots. He bruised the inside of her thighs trying to pin her with his knees. When her forehead made contact with his nose, the sudden burst of his blood on her face gave them pause. It was enough for Nesta to raise her knee with enough force to have him double over, wheezing. She’d run home, blood on her ruined gown. Elain was out. Father paid her no attention even as she threw the gown on the fire. They only had five dresses between them but that one needed to burn.

Nesta massaged her face. ‘I will not be nice to males anymore to please them. I will not be nice because it makes their lives easier if I am. Because the last time I was nice to a boy, look what happened. If I hadn’t been nice then I never would have put myself in that silly situation. I should have known better.’

Like a petal in the sun, Cassian unfurled his fingers from the fists they’d been balled into. Gently, he took both of her hands. The warmth of his skin was always welcome. Always comforting.

‘Nes, none of that was your fault. It was all him. Don’t ever blame yourself for somebody else’s actions. It’s easy to wish you’d done things different with hindsight. You could have been horrid to him and he still might have done it. It wasn’t your niceness that made him do that. He did it because he’s an animal.’ Cassian leaned forwards and kissed her forehead. ‘Now tell me where I can find him because I’d like to peel every inch of skin from his bones.’

When Cassian wrapped an arm around her shoulders, she sunk into her mate’s embrace. These arms were home. She wouldn’t tell him where Tomas could be found because nobody deserved the sort of pain that Cassian’s eyes promised.

‘I’m sorry that I asked you to be nicer to the males. It’s not on you to change to suit them.’

Nesta nodded in agreement. She was nice, when she wanted to be, to those who deserved it. Not males who wanted to keep her submissive.

‘I’m sorry that you had to go through that as a mortal. You should never have had to experience these things, Nes. I promise, as your mate and a bastard-born lesser fae, to always protect you. And I’ll never ask you to be nice again.’  

‘Thank you.’

‘And to show you how nice I can be, read your book. I’ll cook.’

[duskandstarlight]

Dinner conversation (Nessian, one-shot)

Notes: This fic is for my dear @bookstantrash as a very belated Secret Santa gift. I hope you enjoy this future Nessian one-shot. Sorry about the angst, but I hope there's enough Nessian goodness to make you happy <3 (sorry for any typos!)

Dinner conversation

“Your hair looks nice.” 

The compliment was squeezed out around a mouthful of dinner and Nesta caught an eyeful of chicken and potatoes and something green, which if Nesta had to hazard a guess, might be the peas garnished with the fresh mint from Elain’s garden.

Setting her glass neatly down at the top of her plate, Nesta watched Amren wrinkle her nose in disgust.

It was, if Nesta was being honest, right on cue. 

It didn’t matter how much time passed. Nesta knew these gatherings like the back of her hand - better than the most predictable storyline of her romance novels. The wine would be free-flowing, Mor would predictably showcase bad dining room manners, Amren would get haughty and pick at her food, Cassian would usually say something uncouth just to fan the flames and Elain would try to diffuse the situation—

“It does looks lovely,” Elain piped up unsurprisingly from beside Nesta - just as Cassian opened his mouth. 

“It does,” Feyre agreed readily from across the table. Blue-grey eyes that were identical to Nesta’s twinkled at the affronted look on Cassian’s face. “The looser style suits you.”

It was for the first time in a while that they had all come together at Feyre and Rhys’s river estate. The past few months had been busy: December might have been closing in, the festive lights strung and twinkling around the city of Velaris, but their duties remained—and they were more pressing than ever. 

But Mor had finally arrived back from overseas, Azriel was in Velaris rather than spying on territories, and Nesta and Cassian were back from Illyria after a month long stretch that had consisted of whipping winds, snow-capped mountains and frost-kissed pine trees.

So, here they all were, around the large wooden dining table, platters of simple food laid out courtesy of Nuala, Cerridwen and Elain: saffron roast chicken, herb potatoes, minted peas, green beans with a garlic bread crumb and other simple fare that was either grown in Elain’s generous vegetable patch or sourced locally elsewhere. 

And, as always, everything was running exactly to schedule.

Picking up her cutlery, Nesta cut into her chicken with slow, well-practiced deliberation. “Thank you,” she said simply.

This time, Mor had the audacity to swallow before she spoke - but as ever, she never knew when to cease talking. “It’s the looser style,” she explained animatedly, gesturing with her fork around her own head despite her loose blonde tresses. “Much more…”

Mor trailed off with an abruptness at the sight of Nesta’s arched eyebrow.

“Relaxed,” Mor finished with a sheepish smile and the sight of it had a smile of Nesta’s own threatening to tick at the corner of her lips. “You look more relaxed. Less ready for battle.”

It was not a lie. Rather than her usual tight coronet, Nesta’s hair was swept back in a simple braid which weaved from her hairline all the way over her shoulder. It was not a hairstyle that Nesta adorned in the sparring ring - or in everyday life - but she had found that she was rather taken with it. And given that Nesta could no longer find it in herself to tackle the stairs that climbed to the training grounds atop the House of Wind - nor attempt to squeeze into her tight-fitting leathers - Nesta supposed it really didn’t matter that she wasn’t ready to clash swords with Gwyn or Emerie or a certain General of the Night Court’s armies. 

The thought of Nesta’s mate was surely some sort of summoning, because a plate of potatoes materialised in front of her, balanced by a familiar scar-flecked hand encased in leather.

Black hair wild from the wind tearing around the mountain peaks during their fly down to the river estate and hazel eyes that glinted with a shard of a shared secret, Cassian blessed Nesta with a grin that was so wide his canines flashed.

And it was a rare thing to see a true smile from him these days, that Nesta found herself playing along.

“Stop,” she ordered him shortly, because she knew how much it delighted him when she bit at him. She snatched the plate of potatoes from him without further comment and ignored the way Cassian smirked at her, at the way his eyes had begun to glow at the presence of her fire.

Slowly, she piled some potatoes onto her plate. Patiently, she waited. Because just like Nesta knew how these gatherings played out, she also knew her mate.

“I did it.” 

The words spilled out of Cassian as if he couldn’t stop them—and Nesta largely suspected that he couldn’t.

She rolled her eyes, but the gesture was fond, a front of long suffering rather than the truth of one. A smile finally escaped her grasp and Nesta let it lie across her face, let it linger so everyone could see it rather than tucking it away. She had long said goodbye to her reputation as a heartless ice queen. Nesta was still fierce, still fire made flesh with power at her fingertips and a sword strapped down her spine, but she could be something other than that, too. In the years that had passed since Nyx had dramatically arrived into the world, Nesta had slowly unpicked the habits of a lifetime, until she could show happiness without fearing the repercussions for revealing the chink in her armour. Here, she was not being judged. Here, she had learned to simply be. 

Nesta watched Mor’s jaw drop. Her disbelieving chocolate brown eyes flitted from her friend to Nesta and back again. “You did not.”

Cassian leant back into his chair and crossed his arms smugly across his chest: the picture of self-congratulated arrogance. “I certainly did.”

At Mor’s long look, Cassian’s bravado slipped slightly and his eyes cut to Nesta’s for validation in tandem with everyone else. “Tell them, sweetheart.”

Nesta took her time helping herself to an extra portion of lemon and thyme roast chicken, but in the end, she couldn’t deny the truth. “He did,” she admitted, but Nesta was too intent in tucking into her food to actually observe the expectant faces. Her bump might be big, their unborn babe pressing into her stomach and limiting the amount she could eat, but she was determined to damn well try.

“It’s good practice,” Cassian continued, and Nesta did look up then because she could sense in the careful way he spoke—with such pride and reserved excitement—that his smile would be a blessing—a ray of sunshine piercing through storm clouds. It made Nesta’s heart clench into a fist when she saw it, squeezing, squeezing—

“For?” Mor asked obliviously, but Feyre was already looking at Nesta, her eyes wide and shining. Elain grappled for Nesta’s hand under the table, her slim fingers vice in their grip as they fastened around her own.

“For when I need to plait our little girl’s hair.”

A high pitched squeak sounded. Wine sloshed out of Mor’s wine glass as she brought it down onto the table with a delighted clatter. Azriel’s shadows completely cleared from his body and he was so light Nesta thought his skin looked porcelain.

Rhys clapped a hand hard on his son’s shoulder, but he was grinning and so was Nyx. Nesta’s nephew’s violet eyes were bright, his dark hair ruffled as he asked softly, “A girl?” 

“I’m going to have two Valkyries,” Cassian confirmed. He was still beaming as he leant back even further into his chair. The wing that was always curled protectively around Nesta’s back brushed her shoulder as he leant over to press a kiss to her cheek. And he was so happy in that moment—and Nesta was so happy, too—that she returned it in full.

“It’s a girl,” Nesta confirmed, before she gestured in the direction of her head. “And this buffoon is resolute on learning to plait hair before she comes out of the womb.”

Cassian’s laugh was dark, like the delicious scrape of stubble against bare skin. “That and you’re too tired to braid your hair in the mirror.”

“It might also be that,” Nesta admitted. 

Recently, she’d barely had the energy to do anything. During their time in Windhaven, Nesta had spent her time curled up with Emerie and Gwyn in their cosy bungalow: a book in hand, a fire crackling in the hearth and a cup of herbal tea. 

Amren leant forwards, her smoky irises alive with what Nesta knew to be genuine and wicked delight. “Congratulations girl. We could do with more females in our cohort.” She looked pointedly at Cassian and back again. “Perhaps it might even out the egos of these dogs.”

Rhys let out a cough that Nesta was certain disguised a laugh but Cassian just tossed Amren a grin that bared all of his teeth. 

“So, you decided to find out the sex,” Elain asked softly, expertly refocussing the conversation.

“Yes,” Nesta replied simply.

“And you’re both healthy?” Feyre pressed.

Beside Nesta, Cassian tensed. Nesta felt it not just in her mate’s body, but in the air around them. In the way that the bond between them pulled taut before it froze.

She sent a heat-kissed wave of her fire magic in an attempt to thaw it. Internally, nothing happened. The only response was Cassian’s wing. It curved tighter around her shoulder, instinctively drawing her into his body.

Nesta couldn’t find it in herself to snap at him. Instead, she ignored the iron stature of her mate - and the way she was all but crushed uncomfortably into his side - and commanded her body to weave the illusion of calm.

“Madja says she’s growing nicely,” Nesta replied as she subtly shifted in her chair until Cassian loosened his hold. She set herself back to the task of primly spearing some green beans onto her fork. 

“I’m so pleased,” Feyre told Nesta earnestly and Nesta dipped her chin in acknowledgement, because she knew it to be true. Nobody was going to forget Feyre’s birth in a hurry. Even now, just the thought of it transported Nesta there, to that moment she watched her sister die, the sharp metallic tang of blood all around them. 

“Me too,” Nesta agreed. And then, because she wanted nothing more than to rope Cassian back into the conversation, she added, “Madja says her wings are bigger than average.”

There was an expectant pause in which everyone looked to Cassian - waiting for him to boast about his daughter’s wingspan - but nothing came. He just smiled so tightly it became a grimace and clasped a rough-skinned palm around the nape of Nesta’s neck. It seemed that the subject of the healer - and the reminder of his daughter’s wings - had muted Cassian’s momentary joy.

Whilst Nesta had experienced first-hand the anamatical change in her body that allowed her to accommodate Illyrian wings, Cassian had not. And Nesta knew that it was a worry that didn’t just plague him but terrorise him. In the first six months of her pregnancy, Nesta would turn over in the middle of the night, her hips aching, her back stiff, to find Cassian lying awake, watching her. 

It had taken months for Cassian to admit what he was terrified of.

So, Nesta had taken to visiting Madja with Cassian more frequently than her pregnancy required. The old wispy haired healer was always thorough, happy to answer any of their questions. She never seemed to mind that Cassian needed reassuring every visit that everything was looking good. That the wings wouldn’t cause any complications. 

Today, Cassian’s anxieties had been particularly bad. Nesta had known it the moment they’d woken. Could tell by the bruised shadows beneath his eyes, the way he’d insisted that the House let him make Nesta a cup of peppermint tea, rather than the other way around. 

Madja had sensed it, too, and had instructed Cassian on how to use one of her instruments until they could hear their youngling’s heartbeat in their ears.

It had been slow and steady—reassuring and so beautifully full of life. But Nesta knew that no amount of reassuring would stop Cassian worrying that something might happen to her. And Nesta couldn’t blame her mate for that, because if things were the other way around, she’d be the exact same.

“I felt the change in my body after you Made me,” Feyre said quietly in lieu of the silence that had fallen around the dining table. “I felt… so new and certain. Like my body had been widened and reformed—just slightly. I could feel the imprint of the magic—this silver kiss. A gift from you and the Mother.”

Her sister’s eyes were discerning. She had been looking at Cassian rather than Nesta, but now Feyre’s eyes slid to Nesta’s. As they always were when they spoke of her birth, they were brimming with gratitude. 

Nesta knew if Nyx had still been little, Feyre would have pulled him into her lap and held him tight. Would have kissed the crown of his dark haired head. But her son was a hundred and fifty years old and was well past the age of being coddled.

But Nyx seemed to know what his mother needed. He reached for his mother’s hand and squeezed.

The touch of Elain’s palm resting lightly against Nesta’s stomach snagged her focus away from Feyre’s watery smile. At the beginning of Nesta’s pregnancy, Nesta would have wanted nothing more than to bat her sister away. But now she recognised the gesture as love and affection for their unborn, so she only leant back to give Elain better access. 

“What are you going to call her?” Elain asked, her voice slightly hushed by the veil of honey brown hair that had fallen across her face. "Do you have any ideas?”

“Yes,” Nesta said - at the same time that Cassian answered, “Maybe.”

Mor straightened hopefully and the gesture was a little too much, a little too staged as she asked brightly, “Is it Morrigan?”

It worked. Cassian screwed up his face over a mouthful of wine. “A dreadful name.”

Mor simply stuck her red-stained tongue out at him.

“We haven’t decided yet,” Cassian supplied after a too long pause.

It was a lie. In the heart of Windhaven, with the wind battering at the windows of their bungalow bedroom, they had both been in agreement - unanimous agreement. 

“Well, I’m sure whatever you choose will suit the babe wonderfully,” Elain reassured them. 

“I’m curious,” Azriel intoned, pitching in for the first time that night and Nesta knew that it was because the Shadowsinger’s shadows were whispering in his ear about the posture of his brother - the tension. “How many names are there for the word terror?”

Amren’s cackle sounded like the continual crack of a whip. “The two of you look so indignant, but with Nesta’s fire and this dog’s mischievous arrogance that youngling is going to be the equivalent of satan.”

“Ohh,” Mor cooed delightedly as she clapped her hands together. “Is that the name? I love it.”

“Ha ha,” Cassian drawled, but Nesta noticed his wings were no longer drawn in tight. The tautness in his shoulder had unspooled. “We intended for the lot of you to be guardians but now you can think twice.”

“I didn’t say the babe would be satan,” Nyx informed Nesta with his usual calm sobriety as everyone else broke out in argument. He drummed a long finger on the the leather-bound book that lay beside his empty plate. “Do I still get to be a guardian?”

“Of course,” Nesta told her nephew brusquely. She nudged her plate towards him. She was suddenly obscenely full, the babe clearly having shifted to press against her stomach, and Nyx took after his uncle in the way that he ate every meal as if it was his last. “You were my first choice anyway.”

One corner of Nyx’s mouth inched upwards. Beneath the stubble, Nesta could still find the trace of the impish dimple that Nesta had so loved when he was a youngling. Feyre and Rhys’ son might technically be an adult now, but to Nesta, he would always be the nephew that had curled up in her lap, a blanket in hand, a thumb in mouth, as Nesta read him a bedtime story.

“Well,” Rhys announced, “satan or not, I think a toast is in order.” 

When the High Lord of the Night Court raised his glass, the red wine in it deeper than the rubies on the backs of Cassian’s hands, everyone did the same.

“To Cassian’s braiding skills,” he announced and a mixture of laughter and protestation followed.

***

“You still like the name?” 

The deep rumble of Cassian’s voice tickled Nesta’s ear. They had retired back to the House swiftly after dinner - most likely, Nesta suspected, because Cassian had detected the warm lap of exhaustion that had travelled down her end of the bond.

So, they’d left their friends and family around the living room fire and braved the short flight in the chilling wind. Below them, the Sidra had been a winding ribbon and above them, the brightest star in the sky had guided them back to the House.

Now, in their bedroom, Nesta lifted her eyes to study her mate’s reflection in the vanity mirror. 

In the soft faelight, his features were darker then ever; his hair pitch black, his eyes not only drawing in the shadows around him, but anything he looked at - as if he were a magnet and the world gravitated towards him, Nesta included.

Slowly, Nesta set down the hairbrush she’d been waiting to use. “I suggested it, didn’t I?”

The fingers that were gently combing through her hair didn’t cease. Instead, they continued to blindly untangle her braid as his eyes fastened on hers. “You did.”

For a few heartbeats, neither of them spoke. They simply stared at one another and Nesta let her entire being tunnel towards the depths of his stare - where Nesta knew a name existed, as precious as a pearl.

“I love the name,” Nesta assured Cassian, her voice dropping into a hushed whisper that was only for them. “Would you rather we chose something different?”

Cassian swallowed and Nesta tracked the movement. Catalogued the way his throat bobbed. “No. It’s precious to me.”

“I know,” she replied simply and stood so she could cup Cassian’s face in her hands. His stubble scratched against her calloused palms and her belly pressed too tightly against his muscled one, but Nesta revelled in the warmth of him - the sensation of being home. “It’s precious to me, too.”

In truth, picking a name for their unborn youngling had been one of the easiest choices Nesta had ever made. And in a life whose early years had been dictated by a complete lack of control, it had felt like soaring to feel both so free and so aligned with her mate’s thoughts.

When Nesta had suggested it, Cassian’s eyes had rippled and shone so fiercely Nesta’s eyes had burned. Beloved - that was what the name meant. But it was also the Illyrian name for the brightest star in the sky.

“Carina,” Cassian said aloud, speaking the name that he rarely allowed the world to hear, but one Nesta knew he thought of every day.

To him, Nesta knew that the name evoked memories of his childhood. Of meagre campfires and a lilting voice. Of dark hair brushing over his shoulder as his mother pressed her chapped lips against his cheek. 

They were bittersweet and incomplete memories. Cassian had once told Nesta that trying to remember his mother was like trying to close a fist around fog: when you tried to clench it, it only scattered like dust, disembodied. 

And it seemed right to Nesta - when they had never found Cassian’s mother’s body to give her a proper burial - that they could remember her this way. In a way that was both physical and so full of life.

When Nesta ran a thumb over her mate’s cheek, Nesta felt the comfort of her gesture down the bond. Cassian’s large palm came to rest over her hand, holding her to him as he leant into her touch. 

His breath was hot but steady, whispering over her skin, and as Nesta smiled up at him she watched his features slowly relax - until his expression was hopeful, calm, happy.

“It’s decided then,” she announced, reaching up on tiptoes as she spoke. 

Cassian’s quiet laugh whispered between them at her feeble attempt to raise herself to his height.

Large hands settled on her hips, anchoring her to him. 

“Carina,” Nesta said - rolling the weight of the name around her tongue, the promise of it - before she threaded her fingers through the tangles of her mate’s hair and sealed the name with a kiss.  

Tags (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @arinbelle @superspiritfestival @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @mylittlebigplanet @biggestwingspan-az @bellsqueen @ekaterinakostrova @bookstantrash @prophecyerised @rainbowcheetah512 @awesomelena555 @wannawriteyouabook @lovelynesta @melphss @laylaameer01 @a-trifling-matter @fanboy7794 @thalia-2-rose @champanheandluxxury @swankii-art-teacher @lavendergoomsltd @princessofmerchants-reads @jeakat @imwritingthesewords @nestable @inejbrekkxr @silvernesta @amelie775 @helen-the-weirdo @pizzaneverdisappoints @wishfulimaginings @trash-for-nessian @my-fan-side @sophilightwood @valkyriesupremacy @vidalinav @onceupona-chaos @inardour @thesunremembersyourface @teagoddess99 @misswonderflower @nessiantrashh​ @miamorganvel18 @kawaiteacup @nestaa-stan @castielspelvis @haigrr @dont-take-life-to-seriously

[theladyofdeath]

Better or Worse {Chapter Two}

Nessian. Angst. Modern au.

@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab

Better or Worse Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for all who read chapter 1! I've been so pumped to share this one with you all. We hope you enjoy it...even the sad parts.

Warnings: depictions of child loss, language.

~Nesta~

“The last six chapters…” my editor sighs, and I know that I’m not going to like what’s coming next. “They lack depth. I feel like they’re just words on a page, there’s no real meaning there. I mean, there’s hardly any sex once they make up and I hate to be the one to tell you this, but that’s kind of what you’re known for.”

I roll my eyes at her sarcasm, even though she can’t see my face. I tuck my phone between my ear and shoulder as I shut my laptop and pick up my empty water glass. “So what. Rewrite with more fucking?”

“Rewrite with emotion,” she explains, as I leave my home office and go downstairs. I need a break from the screen. The second I got home from my office in the city, I instantly went upstairs and tucked myself away. 

“Fine,” I sigh, entering the kitchen. “When do you want rewrites by?”

My list of rewrites is growing. I had barely made this deadline. My anxiety only grows as she says, “Can you have them to me by Monday?”

“Monday?” I ask, exasperated. “Are you kidding me?”

“We have to get this to the publisher soon. We’re running out of time, Nesta.”

I lean against the counter, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Alright. Yeah. Fine. Monday.” I hear the garage door open and quickly say, before she can give me any more bad news, “I have to go. Talk to you soon.”

I hang up just before the door opens and Nyx comes barreling in, his smile wide and his backpack massive on his little, four-year-old frame.

“Aunt Nesta!”

My anxiety lessens just a little bit as he runs into my open arms and I swing him around, peppering his cheeks with kisses. “Hi, my boy. Oh, I’ve missed you.”

He takes my face into his hands and whispers, “Uncle Cass got me a milkshake. Chocolate.”

“I’m so jealous,” I whisper back, and set him down.

We’ve picked Nyx up from preschool every other Tuesday since he started a year ago. We swap every other week with Azriel and Elain, since Tuesdays are the one day that Rhys and Feyre’s work schedules clash. I cherish the time with my nephew — he’s growing way too fast.

Cassian steps through the door a minute later, holding a bag of groceries and what looks like a half empty milkshake. 

“Hey,” he says, not even looking at me.

“Hey,” I reply, quietly. We’ve hardly spoken a word to each other in days.

I was home before he was on the night he wanted to cook me dinner. I was in bed before he was, too. I don’t remember the last time either of those things happened. The white flag I’d brought home in the form of a chocolate pie had long since been put in the fridge and forgotten and my feelings of mediation had been replaced with frustration at the late hour. When he got in bed and smelled like a frat house, I pretended to be asleep, stewing in my anger and sudden sense of resentment towards my husband, rather than snapping at him like I wanted to.

He was awake and gone before I even woke up the next morning.

“I got a couple of steaks and potatoes. Nyx loves the garlic mashed potatoes at the restaurant—” When he looks over his shoulder at my expression, his words fade away. “What?”

“I ordered pizza,” I say, slowly.

His body tenses, as I expected it would, and he starts putting everything he got from the grocery store into the refrigerator with a little too much force. 

“Go ahead and cook,” I say, trying to ease the tension, for Nyx’s sake. “We can put the pizza in the fridge and reheat it tomorrow—”

“It’s fine.” I know that tone. It’s final.

Giving up on the conversation and letting Cassian stew in his anger, I turn to Nyx with a smile. “Why don’t you go put your backpack and your shoes by the front door, buddy?”

He looks between us before nodding and exiting the room. 

“I’m sorry,” I start, carefully, when Nyx is out of the room. “I was just trying to make quick dinner plans.”

“It’s fine,” he says, closing the refrigerator door. “I should’ve called first.” 

“Cass—”

“Let’s just pretend while Nyx’s here, alright?” He turns to face me, those broad, inked arms crossed.

I lift a brow. “Pretend?”

“Yeah, pretend,” he says, voice low. I hate the look in his eyes, hate the distance that’s between us. “Pretend to be happy, or whatever. Pizza is great.”

Before I can say anything more, he leaves the room. A second later, I hear Nyx’s giggling as he’s tossed over his uncle’s shoulder.

Pretend.

I hate that we have to pretend, hate that we don’t  know how to simply be happy anymore. I hate that he didn’t expect to have a pleasant conversation with me, that his body tensed so quickly, that he couldn’t wait to get out of the room. At least I’m home and not at the office, or working upstairs. Even though I have a deadline to meet in less than a week. 

I don’t leave the kitchen until I hear the doorbell ring a few minutes later. I meet the pizza delivery boy on the porch and pay for our extra large meat lovers pizza and breadsticks before bringing it back to the kitchen and distributing it onto plates. 

The only thing that brings a smile to my face is Nyx coming into the room, thinking that a pizza night in is the best thing ever.

The three of us sit at the kitchen table and eat. At first, Nyx is the only one saying anything, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Cassian keeps glancing at me. I can feel his eyes, but fear returning his fleeting looks.

“Aunt Nesta?”

I blink, realizing that with the way Nyx is staring at me, he must have asked me a question and I completely missed it. I glance at Cassian to see if he’ll give me any assistance but his expression is…pained.

“I’m sorry, buddy, I didn’t hear you,” I say, painting a smile on my face.

Cassian clears his throat. “Nyx, why don’t you tell Aunt Nesta what color you worked on at school today?” From the tone of his voice, it’s clear that he hadn’t asked me about the color of the day.

“When are you and Uncle Cass gonna get me a baby to play with?”

My nephew’s big blue eyes gaze at me, full of curiosity and innocence, just like he is.

His question burns through me though, right to the core, and suddenly, I feel hollow.

Barren.

Empty.

“Aunt Lainy is getting me a baby, that’s what daddy said.” He picks up his pizza with both hands, tearing into it like a wild animal. “And that’s why her tummy is getting big. When are you getting a baby?”

I close my eyes and for a second, all I can see is blood. Blood staining bed sheets and a white, clinical examining room. Tears, and not just mine.

Fear and devastation and heartache and—

Fingertips graze my leg under the table and my eyes snap open, finding Nyx laughing at something Cassian had said. His own smile matches Nyx’s, but it’s strained, his eyes meeting mine for a brief second.

I have no idea what he’d said to derail our nephew’s curiosity, but I suddenly can’t pretend everything is alright at this moment.

Standing quickly, I pick up my plate and mumble, “I’ll be right back,” before heading for the small bathroom off the living room.

My breathing has quickened but I close my eyes and focus on breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth as I grip the porcelain countertop. I convince the tears not to come — something I’m an expert of at this point in my life — and wait until my breathing is under control before I open my eyes and meet my reflection in the mirror. I can still hear Nyx’s giggles from the kitchen, and I silently thank my husband for doing what he does best…being the world’s best uncle and most obnoxious distraction. 

My reflection nearly make my tears start again.

The circles beneath my eyes are dark and my eyes are distant, bloodshot. I’ve lost weight recently, I can tell, and not the good kind. There’s nothing healthy about my pale skin and the way my collarbone is perfectly on display all of the sudden. After spending so many hours working, I haven’t been the best about taking time to eat and maintain my diet, my exercise. I can’t remember the last time I had gone to yoga or done any other sort of physical activity. I haven’t been taking care of myself.

I haven’t been taking care of my husband, either.

I know it. He knows it. We all know it, and we’re dancing around it, just like we dance around everything, but I can’t help it. I have worked hard for my career, and my obsessive mind is controlled by gaining success. 

A soft knock comes to the bathroom door. I clear my throat. “Yeah?”

Cassian’s soft voice comes through the other side. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” I lie. “Be out in a sec.”

“Okay.” There’s a beat of silence. “Feyre’s on her way.”

I take a few more deep breaths as his footsteps vanish down the hall, then I’m opening the door and going back to the living room, like nothing is wrong.

Dinner is apparently over, the plates and pizza box cleaned off the kitchen table and leftovers stored away in the fridge. Bluey is playing on the television in the corner and Nyx is hanging over the arm of the couch, watching intently.

Something brushes along my arm and I jump, swearing under my breath as I move away, as if I’d been burned.

Cassian is standing there, his hand still outstretched, something like hurt written across his face. “Really, Nes?”

“You scared me.” I’m snapping, I have absolutely no reason to snap but my emotions are rubbed raw and I feel like I have no control over them or myself. “You snuck up on me.”

His eyes, already so different from the way they used to look at me, harden as he pulls away. “I was just making sure you were okay—”

“I told you I was fine.”

He nods, face like granite, turning away from me and heading into the living room. Without a word, he scoops up Nyx and plops down onto the couch, settling in to watch his show.

I stay put, staring at the two of them. They’re so cute, so comfortable…yet, I feel like I’m a shadow, watching from a distance. An outsider in my own home.

Guilt sweeps over me, but it’s subdued. Every emotion I feel has been diminished, numbed. I debate on joining them, on sitting beside them on the couch, joining them in their peace. But in my state of numbness, I know I would be of no good to them. I go back into the kitchen and find an unopened bottle of wine. After pulling free the cork, I pour myself a glass. Just before the rim touches my lips, the doorbell rings.

I hurry to the door before Cassian can get up off the couch and welcome my youngest sister inside. She smiles at her one and only child before greeting me, wrapping me in her arms.

“I feel like we haven’t talked in forever,” she says, before picking Nyx’s backpack up off the ground. “We need to get together soon. Me, you, Lainy.”

“Agreed,” I smile. At least, I smile the best that I can. “Do you want to stay for a while? Or…”

“No, that’s okay. Rhys will be home soon, and it’s almost little man’s bedtime.” As if on cue, Nyx runs into Feyre’s arms. 

“Mommy! I had a milkshake and pizza!” he yells, giddily. “Can we get ice cream?”

Feyre laughs quietly and I smile, just as Cassian approaches and gives my sister a hug. “I don’t think so, buddy,” Feyre says, calmly. “Shoes, then let’s go. Come on.”

Nyx groans but does as he's asked.

“Was he good?” Feyre looks from me to Cassian. 

“An angel,” Cassian says, smiling. I guess he would know more so than me. “As always.”

“Good,” she grins, and gives Cassian one last hug. After giving me a kiss on the cheek, she scoops Nyx into her arms. “Sunday, come over for lunch. Yeah?”

“Sounds good,” I say, mustering the best smile I can. We tell them both goodbye and then it’s just the two of us, standing in silence. 

We used to never have uncomfortable silences, but now here we are… the tension so thick that we can cut it with a knife.

I go to take a step back into the kitchen, but Cassian blocks my path. “Do you wanna talk about it now?”

“No.” The word is short, but adamant. 

Cassian, the stubborn bastard he is, isn’t accepting that answer. “Nesta, we should talk.”

“I don’t want to talk right now.”

“Know what? I don’t care what you want. I want to talk, we’re talking.”

My jaw locks but I don’t try to move again. Fine. He wants to talk, we’ll talk. “What do we have to talk about?”

Cassian takes a deep breath. “At dinner—”

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“We have to.”

“No, we don’t!” I yell, my fists tightening at my sides. “We don’t have to talk about anything I don’t want to talk about. You can’t make me talk about shit that I don’t want to talk about, Cassian.” 

I can see the fury in his eyes, can sense how infuriated he is by the tension of his shoulders, but he doesn’t act on it. He simply says, as calmly as he can, “Nesta, please.”

“No,” I say, and now my hands are shaking. “I’m going to bed.”

“You never go to bed this early.”

“Fine. I’m going to write.”

I take one step, and that's all it takes. He explodes. “Damn it, Nesta! Talk to me!”

I don’t flinch. In order to flinch, you have to feel something, but I feel nothing. I meet Cassian’s crazed, desperate stare. “I don’t want to talk about dinner.”

“Then talk to me about something,” he begs, pleads. “Because I feel like we haven’t had a genuine conversation in months.”

“That’s not true.”

“It isn’t?” he asks, and I can tell he’s constraining himself. “Because I can’t recall a time when we weren’t snapping at one another, or your tone isn’t begging me to back the fuck off and mind my own business.” I open my mouth to reply, but he keeps going. “I can’t even ask if my wife is okay, because she doesn’t fucking respond, she just says she’s fine when she’s clearly not. Do you know how frustrating that is?”

I swallow, looking away from him.

I’m not fine. Not even close.

But he doesn’t know that. He can’t, nobody can.

I turn and continue heading for the stairs.

“I can’t do this anymore, Nes.”

The words are so quiet that I’m not quite sure if I hear him right. Turning around to look back at him, I see his eyes are on the floor. “You can’t do what?”

“This,” he says, gesturing between us. There’s something in his hazel eyes I don’t usually see there. “This pretending that we’re doing. I’m done with it.”

“What is with you and pretending?” I demand, finally snapping, my voice raising.

His jaw locks, and a fire I don’t usually see has enveloped his eyes. “Me and pretending…” He shakes his head. “Nesta, that’s all we’ve been doing. Nothing between us has been real in a long time.”

I swallow. “What the hell are you talking about?”

I know what he’s talking about. Every word from his mouth makes perfect sense. I would never admit it, though. “I’m done,” he says, shaking his head. 

I swallow. “The hell are you talking about?”

“A divorce,” he spits. “I want a divorce.” 

A divorce.The words haunt me. They don’t register, don’t settle. “What?”

“I think we should separate,” he says, calmly, even though he looks anything but calm. 

I try to make sense of his words, try to understand where he’s coming from, but I can’t. “What?” I repeat, a little more strongly. 

Cassian’s eyes drift from mine as he looks at the floor. “This isn’t working, Nesta. Me. You. It’s not working.”

“Are you…” My words fall off as I shake my head. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No,” he begins, eyes on me. “No, I’m not fucking kidding you. Nesta, I don’t even know who you are anymore. Shit, I don’t even know who I am anymore. I don’t know what the hell we’re doing here, and I’m starting to think that it’s not worth it.”

“You don’t mean that,” I bite out. My chest is heaving. I might be hyperventilating, but I can’t focus on my body. Only his words. I repeat, through gritted teeth, “You don’t mean that.”

Cassian doesn’t reply, just heads to the coat closet off the living room, reaching inside and pulling out—

“You’re leaving?” I breathe, watching as he slings the duffel bag over his shoulder.

His voice is quiet, but he won’t look at me. “I think it would be best.”

He starts to leave, is heading for the kitchen, and to the garage where his truck waits.

He’d had a bag packed.

He’d planned this.

He’s serious.

“You promised!” My scream surprises even me, but Cassian freezes in the middle of the kitchen. He doesn’t turn to face me, but he pauses. I don’t waste my opportunity. “You promised, Cassian, through better or worse, that you would be here.”

Glancing over his shoulder, his eyes connect with mine, and then he speaks the words that I swear are aimed at my soul. “So did you.” He stands there for only a few more heartbeats before he turns and continues heading for the door.

As it opens and closes, I stay put, listening as the garage door does the same. When all is quiet, I wait, hoping he’d change his mind, that the door leading to the garage would open back up and he’d come back in and say this was all a stupid prank.

But he doesn’t.

And as I sink to my knees, I know that I’m the only one to blame.

[glitchcitygang]

[IMAGE CORRUPTED, SENDING ID: Rhys is currently on top of his KlingKlang, floating above the glitched ocean of Glitch City, and attempting to fish Lyra out of the 'water'. Garlic the Bulbasuar is also resting on top of Rhys's head, not making things easier but doing its best to provide moral support. Ketsuban himself is floating nearby as well, but only a small part of him is in frame due to his sheer size. Cara, Glitchy, and Polar can be seen in the corners and edges of the foreground as the picture was taken on the shoreline.]

We sent the most normal looking one out to save her. I personally think it was a mistake.

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

07/01-02/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Gizmo Darby; Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; Vico Ortiz; Kristian Nairn; Samba Schutte; Adopt Our Crew Charity Raffle Results; Teal Oranges & Garlic Soup Week ; Fan Spotlight: Cast Cards; Never Left Podcast; Our Flag Means Fanfiction; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Today's Taika

== Gizmo Darby ==

Rhys has been active posting about Gizmo on Facebook!

Source: Rhys Darby's Facebook Stories

== Rhys Darby ==

MORE TURAL commercials! Please don't stop Rhys, these are so much fun.

== Taika Waititi ==

Taika out cooking with Andy Hearnden!

Source: FloodyWastaken's Instagram

== David Jenkins ==

Okay so this isn't exactly a Chaos Dad Sighting, but it IS a sighting of David and Kinga's new pup SimoneLeBone.

Source: David Jenkins Instagram

== Kristian Nairn ==

Some more shots of Kristian from his trip to Yorkshire Comic Con

Source: stuwhittaker_photography Instagram

== Jes Tom ==

Some shots of Jes at their show Corporate Pride!

Source: Jes Tom's Instagram

== Vico Ortiz ==

Guess who's coming to Florida Supercon 2024? You guessed it! Vico! It'll happen in Miami Beach, FL, July 12-14, 2024. To buy tickets, visit: floridasupercon.com

Source: Vico Ortiz' Instagram

== Samba Schutte ==

Guess who else is going to be at Florida SuperCon? Samba! Once again, it'll be at Miami Beach, FL, July 12-14, 2024. To buy tickets, visit: floridasupercon.com

Source: Samba Schutte's Instagram

== Adopt Our Crew Raffle Winners ==

Adopt Our Crew's Charity Raffle Winners have been pulled! Wanna see if you've won? Visit any of @adoptourcrew's socials! Tumblr / Instagram / Twitter

Source: AdoptOurCrew Tumblr

== Teal Oranges & Garlic Soup Week ==

I ran out of image space last issue but I wanted to highlight some more fabulous work-- this time check out @watercolourcritters and their fun and adorable submissions for @garlicsoupweek! I absolutely adore the sweet tenderness in each drawing. I also can't get over the awkward family photo, it made my day <3 Feel free to check them out over on their tumblr or Instagram | Etsy | Tip Jar!

Source: @watercolourcritters Tumblr

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Cast Cards =

The darling @melvisik gave us yet another fantastic crew member tonight, Nancy Hennah! She's also an "Emmy submission (Outstanding Period or Fantasy/Sci-Fi Make Up for Calypso's Birthday) P.S. Did not know she and Ra were married!" Also, thank you to @xray-vex for mentioning, she's the fantastic crew member that brought Ed's Tattoos to life!

Source: Melvisik's Twitter

= Never Left Podcast =

Episode 24 is out! This week they're talking about Ed and Physical Touch! Check them out on Spotify or at on their https://linktr.ee/neverleftpodcast!

Source: Never Left Podcast Instagram

= Our Flag Means Fanfiction =

New mini episode of Our Flag Means Fanfiction - this time Murders at the Inn by ahopelessnecromantic! Read by Carly Heath. You can find it on your favorite listening platform on their https://linktr.ee/ofmff!

Source: Our Flag Means Fanfiction Instagram

== Loves Notes ==

Hey there lovelies. It's been a rough couple days for everyone, everyone I talk to is either not sleeping or having a bit of a rough time of it. Please remember to get some rest. Take a break, drink some water, step away from the computer, and go outside for a while. If you can, sit in the sun for a few minutes, take your shoes off and run them through some grass. Remember that the world is still turning, and it is lovely, and it is beautiful, and so are you.

Take care of yourselves lovelies <3

Some love notes from thelatestkate:

Source: The Latest Kate's Tumblr

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

Just a reminder one of the reasons we love this show. Those smiles <3 Today's gif courtesy of @livelovecaliforniadreams!

[ofmdrecaps]

07/18-19/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Rhys & Rosie; Samba Schutte; David Jenkins; Taika Waititi; #FirstMateFriday: Con O'Neill; Vico Ortiz; Linds Cantrell; Alex Sherman & Alyssa Lane; Kristian Nairn; Rachel House; Erroll Shand; Jes Tom; WBD Status; ; Fan Spotlight: Cast Cards; Stede & Ed; Our Flag Means Fanfiction; Love Notes ; Daily Darby / Today's Taika;

Hey crew, sorry for the delay. I was going to finish yesterday's recap this morning, and then my draft got nuked again due to my computer crashing, so yeah two day it is!

== Rhys & Rosie ==

Rhys and Rosie are out at the AllBlacks Rubgy game! They're super excited for AoNZ vs Fiji!

Source: Rhys & Rosie's Instagram Stories

== Samba Schutte ==

So some of the news that came out of Florida Supercon last weekend was Samba revealed in a panel that there was supposed to be an official OFMD Podcast and it was in the works until WBD said they "ran out of money". You can read the Full Article here

== David Jenkins ==

Chaos dad came out and had some commentary as well regarding it-- and Samba had more to add.

Source: David Jenkins' Twitter

== Taika Waititi ==

Taika out and about!

Source: Rosie Matheson's Instagram

Annnd Taika just being goofy!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by i Licaoni Digital Studio (@i_licaoni)

Source: i_licaoni's Instagram

The associated Press released another interview with Taika and Jemaine!

and yet ANOTHER interview with Taika and Jemaine, this time with Brad Gilmore!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Brad Gilmore (@bradgilmore)

Source: Brad Gilmore's Instagram

== First Mate Friday: Con O'Neill ==

There's a new trend this week! Folks on twitter have started up #FirstMateFriday in honor of Con O'Neill! There are so very many lovely tributes to him! I was only able to fit a few in, but they're all beautiful, and full of so much heartfelt love, and I'm sure he is out there basking in it all right now! Thank you to everyone who sent him some love today (and thank you to the lovely folks below for letting me share them!) Also, special thanks to RudestFish on twitter for coming up with this love fest for Con!

Source: RudestFish's Twitter

Source: lividturkeys Twitter

Source: wndrngnomad's Twitter

Source: 1chloreen1's Twitter

Source: Tayleafy's Twitter

== Alex Sherman and Alyssa Lane ==

Our beloved writers/co-producers Alex and Alyssa were out in Mexico City! So nice to see them out and having fun again!

Source: Alex Sherman's Instagram

Alex also popped in to appreciate our darling @fidisart on twitter!

Source: Fidisart's Twitter

== Long Post is Long, Lots under the Cut ==

== Vico Ortiz ==

Vico wants to wish everyone a Happy #NonMonogamyVisibility Week! They shared a lot about their history with polyamory and lots of Garlic Soup on their Instagram Stories as well!

Source: Vico's Instagram

== Linds Cantrell ==

Lindsey Cantrell is the biggest sweetheart by the way and she's been so happy to be interacting with everyone in the OFMD community-- it was just nice to see her feeling included and loved (she shared this on her IG Story). If you don't already follow her on IG, please do, she always has super cool stuff to share, even if it's not OFMD related. <3

Source: Linds Cantrell's Instagram

== Rachel House ==

Rachel was out seeing Bob Tidicue!

Source: Rachel House's Instagram Stories

== Erroll Shand ==

New Episode yesterday of The Twelve on Binge!

Source: Binge's Instagram

== Jes Tom ==

Jes was featured on the "GOOD BOYS" Podcast: Episode 2: Model Behavior! Wanna listen in? You can check out their linktree.

Source: For Them's Instagram

Some photos from Jes' recent comedy show with Tessa Skara: Corporate Pride.

Source: TessaFuckinSkara's Instagram

== Kristian Nairn ==

Kristian is the special guest at Van Love Fest in Elvington Airfield, York!

Source: Kristian Nairn's Instagram

== WBD News ==

So many of our crewmates on twitter have been highlighting some big news with WBD. It sounds like they may actually be doing a split in the upcoming future. Lot of articles below with more info.

Warner Bros Discovery drafts break-up plan

Warner Bros. Discovery might split itself into two pieces

Cord Cutting Today Warner Bros. Discovery Selling Max? Here is What We Know

Why Warner Bros. Discovery Stock Jumped 15% This Week

David Zaslav's Come To Jesus Moment

Sources: Meowzawowza, Never Left Podcast, Ashley (seven_sugars), MrButtons294 on Twitter

== Trends ==

Always nice to see!

Source: Never Left Podcast's Twitter

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Cast Cards =

Naureemum S. was another one of the stand-ins in OFMD according to https://ofmd-crew.com/ - Thank you to @melvisik for giving her a spotlight!

Source: @melvisik's Twitter

== Our Flag Means Fanfiction ==

Are you going to be at San Diego Comic Con on July 25-28? Well keep an eye out for these free bookmarks from Our Flag Means Fanfiction!

Source: Our Flag Means Fanfiction Instagram

== Love Notes ==

Hey there lovelies! I hope the end to your week was good to you! A lots happened in the last 48 hrs, and I apologize I'm so late sharing some of it. Please let me know if I missed anything! I love how much people are really stepping up the love for cast members after all the Emmy stuff that went down. I see everyone just aggressively (I say affectionatly) loving so many of them and it's so heart-warming and uplifting. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, but your love and kindness is so incredibly impactful. You may never get to see the fruits of your love (although the cast and crew does tend to show us they hear us) but know that every little bit builds up. Maybe someone was having a bad day, and seeing how much we love them gave them that extra boost to get through it-- you never know! There is an old greek proverb: "A society grows great when [folks] plant trees whose shade they know they shall never sit in."

That is really true about kindness and support and love too. You are sowing the seeds and roots of a better tomorrow, even if you yourself never get to see the branches and fruit that love produces.

Never let the harshness of the world dim your light lovelies. Your kindness and love moves mountains tiny bits at a time.

I hope you all have a wonderful, fairly uneventful weekend (unless you want it to be eventful!) and get some good rest <3

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

There is no theme tonight! Just Rhys being ridiculously hot, and Meow blessing us with this adorable Taika smile. Happy belated Meow Day! Rhys Gif by @ofmd-ann and Taika Gif by @blakbonnet!

[nikethestatue]

Rest Your Weary Head

(Concept)

Just some fluff

It’s family dinner time at the River Estate. Everyone is at the table, and the conversation is flowing merrily. There is delicious beef stew, creamy mashed potatoes, there is horseradish sauce, and sauteed spinach with garlic and herbs. Rhys put out a few of his good bottles of wine and both Mor and Cassian are helping themselves unabashedly. 

Nesta is feeding Nyx mashed potatoes and he is grabbing her fingers and the spoon, trying to hurry her up, his fat little hand banging on his high chair impatiently. He is grunting with utter pleasure. The mash is quite amazing and a delight to his 10-month old palate. 

Everyone is at the table. They are laughing and joking and teasing each other as usual.

The only person missing is Azriel.

The wind is blowing outside and it’s cold, snow whipping against the windows.

Elain quietly disappeared into the kitchen, promising to bring another basket of dinner rolls. No one notices, since she and the twins usually serve dinner, and she comes and goes as she pleases. Besides, Azriel isn’t here to hold everyone back and make them wait until she is seated.

“Are you alright?”

Feyre’s been observing her sister for the past few minutes--her posture straight, almost like Nesta’s. Elain is dressed in a plain, but form-fitting velvet dress. Cobalt of course. She always seemed to be wearing something cobalt lately. Elain hadn’t noticed her sister’s scrutiny, which isn’t surprising. Elain’s been stationary and absorbed in looking out the window, peering into the darkness, lightly fingering the little rose necklace that she never took off. 

“He’ll be home soon,” Feyre said gently, her voice quiet, as she grabbed the rolls and piled them into the basket.

Elain turns to her abruptly, ready to argue, looking to deny Feyre’s implication, but then she falls silent and smiles sadly, before turning back to the window and resuming her vigil.

...It’s late and Nyx’s been in bed for hours, having eaten all the mashed potatoes, a generous lashing of gravy, and custard for his dessert. 

When Azriel materialises in the kitchen, silent and sodden and thoroughly exhausted, no one notices. 

He stops and watches Elain, who is wearing his favourite colour. She turns to him and her smile lights up the kitchen. His world. 

“I saved you a plate,” she says simply.

He knows. 

She always does.

She always waits up for him.

They have to pretend. 

Elain is savvy. She understands her role, her matehood, and how politics are tied into her compliance and obligation.

But it doesn’t stop her from waiting for the shadowsinger.

She sets a plate of beef stew in front of him, as he collapses heavily in the chair. He isn’t ready to go out there. He wants to be with her. He doesn’t want to see anyone. He wants to be with her.

There is a separate bowl piled with mashed potatoes. His favourite. She knows. She knows everything about him. 

His wings droop on the floor and he doesn’t think that he has the strength to lift them. As he digs into his mash, savouring the first delectable bite of smooth, rich comfort, Elain kneels near his feet and gingerly gathers his wings, lifting them off the floor and places them on a bench behind him.

He smiled and thanks her silently.

She sits across from him and props her cheek, watching him eat.

“This is delicious,” he admits at last.

She serves him food all the time. Sometimes, she serves him food in front of her mate. She serves him food in front of Rhysand. In front of Eris. Once, she served him food in front of Beron, at a High Lord’s dinner. 

...Rhysand wanted to speak with his spymaster. He knew that Azriel returned from him mission, having felt his presence in the house.

Elain sat by the fire, cradling Azriel’s head on her lap. The invincible shadowsinger slept soundly on the sofa, resting his weary head in her lap. Rhysand watched. 

Azriel slept beside his mate. 

[magnuficentwo]

Thank you so much @katagawajr for tagging me on the "get to know better" game !!! Here's mine <333

Three Ships:

☆ I'm pretty sure this refers to ships as in fandom, but I don't really. Ship things actively ? I mostly just reblog things and then go ahaha yes... they're kissing again this is awesome ! But for the sake of keeping this brief, I'll go:

☆ Rhys/Sasha [They're adorable and I love how their dynamic develops throughout the story, especially seeing them dealing w/ conflict. I am never going to fucking forgive Borderlands for the way it treats its female cast sometimes but they handled Sasha and Rhys pretty nicely]

☆ Zacharie/Batter [I'm a sucker for weird guys who are weird together what can I say. Also they changed my brain chemistry when I was like 12 so maybe that has somethign to do with it]

☆ Gabv1el [Ultrakill mutuals this is your fault /silly /not serious but I just really enjoy characters with strong beliefs getting to go through the catharsis of shattering them, and this ship got that in spades babyyyyy I love these thangs]

Last Film:

☆ Romeo + Juliet (1996) ! (Again) Possibly one of my favorite movies ever. I just love the cinematography and the direction it takes with the story given the new setting. Classics are classics for a reason but this movie just HITS.

Currently Watching:

☆ Nothing for now ! But I'm planning to watch either the Saw series or There Will Be Blood with my brother this weekend :3

Currently Reading:

☆ Whatever my friends on discord make [Guaranteed Good Time, I <3 my friends]

☆ The Song of Achilles [If I don't read this book I think I'll be killed at the stake by my greek mythos friends. But also it's just very well written and poetic so I'm enjoying myself]

☆ Morangos Mofados <Rotten Strawberries> [Another really good book, my professor got me to read it and it is TREMENDOUSLY upsetting in the best way possible]

Currently Consuming:

☆ I drank like 1/4 of a chocolate milkshake my auntie brought me and I'm still thinking about it. It was good as hell. Otherwise I haven't eaten much !

Currently Craving:

☆ Other 3/4 of milkshake 😔

☆ Garlic bread....................... Garlic bread save me

☆ SCHOOL END NOW IMMEDIATELY RIGHT NOW PLEASE PLEASE PL

Taglist: @6-2-aestheticsofhate @rustycottoncandy @9fe2bf @whoever else wants to join really ! Don't feel pressured to do this if you don't want to <3 / Tell me if it isn't ok to tag you in stuff like this !

[aldbooks]

A Strange Melody - Chapter 5

@sunshinebingo

Read on AO3

Azriel’s wings tucked in behind him as he landed and carefully set Gwyn on her feet. Most people were a bit unsteady after their first time flying but she possessed a surprising grace, finding her balance with ease as she took a few steps towards the mouth of the sidestreet he’d landed in, towards the village proper, eyes wide. 

Coming to her side, he lay a hand on her back and guided her through the crowded square towards the village. It was market day, however, and the usually wide open space was packed with colorful carts and eager shoppers. The scent of sugar and spices filled the air from the various food vendors and Azriel only glanced away for a moment, caught by the smell of cinnamon, only to look back and find Gwyn no longer by his side.

Before he could panic, his shadows guided him towards where she was standing in front of a cart filled with patterned scarfs, running the soft fabric through her fingers. He started after her but, just as he reached her, her attention was diverted and she moved away towards another stall selling beaded jewelry, then another offering carved lanterns and another laden with fragrant flowers. 

He dutifully followed her through the crowded market, occasionally buying a trinket here or there that she spent a particularly long time lingering over, not really sure why he did it, only that the thought of her smile when she saw it later made something spark in his chest. 

Eventually, Gwyn’s stomach took the lead and they found themselves before a baker's stall full of sweet and savory breads, cakes and pies. He observed her as she exclaimed over the options, chatting happily with the proprietor, noting again that she seemed surprisingly unfamiliar with her surroundings despite being from the islands herself. 

At his suggestion, they selected a few pillowy rolls basted in garlic, butter and herbs, a couple of meat pies, and two slices of the honey drizzled pastries that were a signature dish of the islands. He had originally intended to take her to the tavern across the square that served his favorite stew and ale but Gwyn seemed so eager to try the baker’s fare, he couldn’t deny her. 

The moan she made as she bit into the pie stuffed with ground beef and loaded with spices, sent an unexpected pulse of heat through his body and he could do nothing but stare at her as she eagerly sampled from the bag in his hand, her hypnotizing eyes lighting with an almost unearthly glow of delight with each new flavor she tasted. He was so wholly lost in his study of her, it took him a moment to remember they were standing in a crowded village square. Between his towering frame, wings and shadows, and Gwyn’s fiery red hair and otherworldly beauty, they were starting to gather attention. 

Azriel cleared his throat, forcefully shoving down the spark of lust that had risen as he’d watched her and gently guided her towards the outskirts of the crowd, his shadows shielding them from prying eyes, particularly those of the males who had begun leering at her. Glancing around them, he realized just how out of place Gwyn was among the residents of the island. Her brightly colored hair and pale skin did not blend with the olive complexions and dark hair of those around them and he wondered anew where she had come from because he was positive it wasn’t here. Possibly not anywhere in the Night Court.

Just who was she?

Just then, Gwyn lifted a hand to wipe the corner of her mouth and he noticed something he hadn’t before. Peeking from beneath the sleeve of her borrowed sweater… was a dark, round mark, shot through with silver. Azriel froze as he stared at her wrist. He knew that mark, was intimately familiar with what it meant after spending years helping Rhys collect on his many bargains. Usually, his friend kept a certain- professional distance from the fae he dealt with as The Bargainer, and yet he had brought this particular client to his home… why?

Azriel shadows chattered indiscernibly around him, apparently unwilling to share whatever they knew of the High Lord’s bargain with the beauty. Blinking his mask into place before she could notice the direction of his stare, Azriel glanced back up at Gwyn who was just pulling out her dessert, giving it a curious sniff. The cinnamon sugar glaze and toasted nuts wafted to him, reminding him of his own hunger. Absently, he pulled one of the bread rolls from the bag and took a bite.

“So,” he said after a moment. “How did you end up at the palace? Do you not have family back home who are missing you?”

He nearly regretted the words when the brightness in her eyes dimmed suddenly and she stared down at her honey covered fingers. “No. My mother died years ago when I was young. I never knew my father. It was just my sister and I for nearly a century.”

There was clear pain and grief in her tone and Azriel gentled his own voice as he encouraged her to continue. “What happened to her?”

Gwyn heaved a great sigh, her shoulder slumping sadly. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and wipe away whatever memory had stolen her light. But he needed answers. “She was taken one night by some sailors who thought she was-” her eyes suddenly flew to his and her mouth snapped shut, halting whatever she’d been about to say. Her freckles disappeared as her cheeks turned red and she floundered slightly. “Uh- she… was killed… A few years ago now. I’ve been on my own ever since.”

Azriel’s eyes narrowed slightly at her abbreviated response but didn’t push. “I’m sorry… Do you not have friends or neighbors at least who might be worried about you?”

Eyes downcast once more, she brought the last bite of her dessert to her lips and sucked away the honey on the tips of her fingers. Azriel’s mind abruptly detoured into places better left unexplored at the moment and intentionally refocused on the conversation as she shook her head. “Not really. I’m friendly with my neighbors but we mostly keep to ourselves and Catrin was my closest friend my entire life. With her gone… I admit I’ve grown lonely.”

“Is that why you left?” It would make sense that someone alone in the world and still laden with grief might want to escape their own world for a while. Gods knew he and his brothers had done the same from time to time. Didn’t explain why she’d ended up making a bargain with Rhys and arriving at the palace- naked.

Her lips parted, her gaze flicked to his as her cheeks darkened once more. “Yes,” she answered slowly.

His shadows gave a hissing sort of laugh. Interesting.

“Ready to go back?” he asked, finishing the last of the roll in his hand. 

She nodded towards the bag. “Aren’t you going to finish eating?”

He rolled the top of the bag shut, his shadows swallowing it up into the void. “It’ll keep till I get home. I still have some more work to do before dinner tonight.”

Gwyn glanced at the market once more with a disappointed pout but nodded and allowed him to scoop her up into his arms. Villagers quickly moved out of the way as his wings spread and he took flight once more. She was silent on the flight back, simply resting in his arms, her salty sweet scent surrounding him as she leaned her head against his shoulder and he fought against the urge to steal her away somewhere until he solved the mystery of who she was and learned every one of her secrets. 

They parted ways when they reached the palace, Gwyn to the library where she’d been informed Nesta was waiting for her and him to his study. He had much to ponder.