#a court of fae and flowers spoilers

[wizardofpalmsprings]

“Airitime Law” sounds like something Lord Squak Arivis would have come up with. The Lords of the Wing would have eaten that shit up. They’d be fucking delighted by a boat in Grandfather’s sky. Does the Green Hunter and the Jeremy Renner movie of it exist in Fantasy High? I must know

[dilemmadraws]

Lady Chirp Featherfowl, Countess of Cluckingham 🪺🪽

[raindropsonwhiskers]

Can you fucking imagine being in Lady Sylminar's shoes though. You get betrothed to this decorated goblin soldier and you meet at a play. He seems nice, if a bit stiff, but genuinely considerate and caring. He immediately leaves. Sure, whatever, Goblin Business. And he promised to get you sweets, which is very nice of him. Then it starts pouring down rain, storming like hell, and you presumably head elsewhere. No sweets have been given to you. The next day, you learn this man has denounced his Court, broken his betrothal to you in favor of the Master of Ceremonies (also now Courtless), and stopped a plot by the Princess of the Unseelie and the Prince of Wonder to shut off access to the mortal realm. It has been 24 hours at most since you met him. You still do not have any sweets.

[spirit-of-beetlejuiceblues12]

ACoFaF gave us the best possible moment for a Nat 1…

And Ravening War gave us the worst possible moment for a Nat 1

[monster4monster-bracket]

Propaganda under the cut

Hob/Delloso

Starts out as a star-crossed, Beauty-and-the-Beast-style romance between a very animalistic, awkwardly formal, military man—well, goblin (Captain Hob) and a very elfen-esque Master of Ceremonies (Rue), who’s busy with the job of hosting the huge, politically important party they just put together, and is also technically a member of another royal court. SPOILERS: Turns out Rue is an owlbear under their glamour, aka just as massive and animalistic as Hob. Both of them really love the other’s body specifically because it looks like theirs rather than fitting in with the traditional fey standards of beauty, so they’re lowkey serving t4t-vibes, despite existing in a setting where there are zero social expectations around gender. Technically they’d be a monster x monster pairing no matter what, as they’re both fey, but the fact that they both stick out even among the extreme visual variety of the fey people, and very much feel the weight of that exclusion, really makes them a monster x monster pairing in spirit too.

Polymechs

So they are all aliens to each other. They are also like canon found family, and are immortal. I love this ship because the nine of them deserve happiness and some love because they are doomed to have heartache in their lives. They spend so much time together and will die alone and while they are together I think they should kiss.

[lalacliffthorne]

💜 starshine pt. III 💜

Rhysand x Reader

part I part II part III part IV part V part VI

notes: literally no summary possible without intense spoilers. you´ll probably be able to guess what this chapter entails by just like the first few sentences (btw, it's been ages since I read the books, so I'm working on a lot of creative freedom with this one lol). fair warning: this one's angsty. like I already mentioned, it's also insanely long. so. have fun? I guess?

______________________________________________________________

Slipping through the wards felt like a tingle of ice on my skin. My breath hitched, and for a second, I expected the mountain to cave in on me, squash me as it realized someone had breached the magic binding so many to its halls.

But nothing happened.

The servant fae's dress slipped up my thighs when I slid into the dark corridors. I had caught her when she had lingered too close to the wards, golden whisps of magic seeping through the bounds and engulfing her, catching her when she fell into a deep, dreamless slumber. I had swapped our clothes before hiding her floating body behind a glamour and slipping into the dark mountain.

Something closed around my throat lightly as I moved through the shadows, stilling every time I heard a sound.

Fifty years.

Fifty years of chipping away at the wards guarding the mountain, little by little so no one would notice the small growing hole in the thickly woven magic. Fifty years of trying to be everywhere at once, moving through the courts, healing those in need before slipping away before anyone could notice. Fifty years of faeries slaughtered in numbers becoming bigger and bigger, causing rage to grow slowly in my chest.

Fifty years of dreaming of violet eyes like night skies.

I remembered the day Amarantha had caught them all like it was yesterday.

I had been staying in the Day Court, and from one second to the next, the warm summer night had turned ice cold. A darkness had placed itself over the world, the faeries in the garden had disappeared and the glow of the flowers had dimmed. An icy shiver had run down my spine, and like instinct, I had reached out for Rhys, for that familiar feeling that was always not far from the bounds of my mind, the sharp claws that tickled my soul before the deep, rich voice echoed through my head, even when their owner was on the other side of Prythian.

But there had been nothing. No presence, not even when I had called out to him. Instead, there was a harsh wall, like something, or someone, was blocking him.

I had started looking for him the day after.

☆

Following the halls deeper into the mountain, I simply listened to the tug in my chest that pulled me forward, guiding me towards the hum of power. My own responded, slithering angrily under my skin, and I pushed it down, barricading it behind walls as high as the sky.

I had learned to hide the thrum of power flooding through me a long time ago. It was what kept me hidden in the courts, allowed me to exist without anyone bothering me.

Strangely enough, it had never kept Rhys from finding me, like even the way my powers were hidden was distinct enough for him to track me down. When I had brought it up once, he had just grinned so widely, his cheeks had creased as he replied: “Starshine, I would be able to find you on nothing but instinct even if you were galaxies away.”

Back then, it had made something skip softly against my ribs as I had thrown a pillow at his head.

Now, just the memory of his voice caused a strange ache in my chest.

Amarantha had taken Rhys away from his family, his home. And I was sure that the only reason he was playing her game, bowing to her, was to protect them.

If there was one thing I had learned about him in the past century, it was that his friends, his family and his home were everything to him. And that he would do anything to keep them safe.

Even give himself up.

The tight feeling in my chest shifted, like for a second, something scratched the surface, a familiar presence growing closer, and I breathed out soundlessly.

There was no way I was going to let her break him.

Not him.

☆

The whispers from Under the Mountain had been vague, but with time, they had started to paint a picture, blurred and hazy, but clear enough to know that Amarantha had a fable for lavish nights with wine and entertainment.

I had expected that entertainment to be cruel. I had spent the last fifty years trying to protect the faeries, for Amarantha seemed to have developed a taste for keeping them like animals, all while hearing rumors about the Fae trapped Under the Mountain, forced to bow to her will.

But what was awaiting me when I slipped through the doors into the huge cavernous hall, the stench of spirits hitting me and the air pressed from my lungs – was so much worse.

There were Fae everywhere, dressed in a way that left little to the imagination. Their gazes ranged from empty to forcingly amused to petrified, but their bodies moved like they were in a trance, not their own will causing them to dance, grind on each other and do more, in plain sight for all to see.

It felt like a sick, twisted stage play, orchestrated for nothing but the embarassement and torture of the courts and one single person's amusement, one person who loomed on a dais at the back wall, sitting on a throne, dressed from head to toe in blood red.

My eyes zeroed in, and my powers surged against the walls caging them in.

Amarantha had tipped her head to the side, her golden crown glittering in the light of the torches as she watched the spectacle at the foot of the dais. Her red hair flowed over her shoulders, her long nails tapping against the armrests. There was a light amused curve to her lips, but her eyes were cold and calculating.

Somehow reigning in the magic raging under my skin, I pressed my lips together and followed her piercing gaze, down to the steps leading up to the dais -

The wind got knocked out of my lungs.

The noises, the hall around me faded as something pulsed slowly against my ribs, my heart beating like the wings of a butterfly caught in time, trying to escape from my chest as my gaze narrowed in until it was centered on the male at the foot of the dais, a picture of lazy feline confidence so familiar, I had to fight for air.

Rhys.

Suddenly, fifty years caught up with me. Fifty years of his face burned into my mind, his smile and the way his violet eyes twinkled like a glittering night sky.

Only it was gone now. The spark in his iris, the vibrancy of his eyes. His dark hair, though still impeccably styled, had lost its shine, his sunkissed skin was pale and sallow, and his smile –

Something tightened so harshly in my chest, I held my breath.

Gone was the cheeky curve of his lips, the mischievous turn of his grin and that stupidly beautiful smile. It had been replaced by a light smirk, one that was cold and cruel and –

Didn't reach his eyes.

His smile had always reached his eyes. Even when it promised violence and bloodshed and broken bones, it always translated to the way his eyes looked, to the spark in his iris, angry or furious.

Only it didn't anymore.

I tried to swallow, fight against the way something closed around my throat when I stared at Rhys and his eyes, dull and unmoving as he gazed down onto the heap at his feet, a heap -

My breath stilled, and the grip around my throat changed to vice.

It was a sprite boy. A moonwing, with feathery white hair caked with dirt, milky pale skin torn and bloody over too-thin limbs, and his wings –

His wings.

A sound built at the bottom of my throat, a strangled whimper that was swallowed by the harsh noises around me. Something clawed at my chest, a pain so heavy I almost went to my knees as I stared at what used to be thin-as-lace wings, their white membranes hanging in bloody shreds over a whipmarked back.

Quickly clamping a shaking hand over my mouth to smother the heaving sob breaking from my throat, I almost sank into the wall, my body beginning to shake. I felt something hot run over my cheek as I stared at the faerie, swaying as he tried to get to his feet without the support of his wings. His pain was mine, his despair gripping me like an iron fist, my breath trembling as my vision blurred and I whimpered.

No.

Rhysand stilled. I could see his shoulders shift. Then his head rose, eyes tearing away from the moonwing to swiftly move over the crowd, and for nothing more than a second, a fraction of a heartbeat, something flashed through his eyes, something that was buried so deep, it was nearly impossible to make out.

Like somehow, he felt my anguish, could sense a presence in the crowd that didn't belong -

The guards at the edge of the dais moved, and Rhys blinked. Then his eyes moved away from the crowd, and his back straightened when a male stepped forward, staring hungrily at the moonwing.

There was a bloody whip hanging from his hand.

My heart tightened, lips parting as nausea washed over me like a tidal wave.

But before the male could take another step, Rhys moved. His motions were quick and smooth as always when he took a step forward and picked the moonwing up by his neck, and I could see the fairie's iridescent eyes flaring with panic as he started to struggle.

Then Rhys' hand closed around his jaw.

My heart stopped and my breath stilled when the crack of bones snapping whipped through the hall.

The moonwing's body went limp, head rolling to the side.

A muscle in Rhys' cheek twitched, his face unmoving as he let the faerie slip to the ground and raised his head, turning around. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the moonwing's lifeless body as the other male moved towards him with a scowl, gripping one of the fairie's shredded wings before he turned to drag him away from the dais and into the shadows, leaving behind a pool of blood on the stone floor.

Something hot streamed over my cheeks as I fought to breathe, and magic started to push against my skin, slowly growing until I had to keep all my focus on keeping it subdued.

My eyes rose, and a cold fist closed around my heart when Rhys sat down next to Amarantha. Her hand drifted towards him, her fingernails dragging lightly over his skin, and I could see the second his eyes clouded over like he had dragged up walls, high, high, higher as Amarantha whispered something with a smile like a viper.

Rhysand nodded once, eyes trained onto the crowd like it could hide the way his shoulders shifted like his body fought to move away.

It was all I needed to straighten my spine and breathe, something beginning to burn under my skin.

☆

I had slinked into the shadows when Amarantha had risen from her throne, Rhys following suit, though there was something in the way his eyes seemed to dull even more when he moved after her.

I lost them in the maze of halls a few times, but something, like a small tug in my chest, kept pulling me back onto the right path, like the golden whisps of magic swirling under my skin had latched onto Rhys, guiding me.

Slipping around a corner, I just caught a glimpse at a door closing. Waiting for a few moments, just to make sure, I slowly started to move, avoiding lanterns and melting into the shadows as I soundlessly slid down the hall until I could disappear into the alcoven right next to the door.

Pressing my back against the cold stone walls, I leaned my temple against the wall and focused on the noises slipping from the room.

For a second, my mind was slow, struggling to place the muffled sounds that seemed to be a female's, harsh and strangely drawn –

My heart stilled.

I could feel my breath, ragged as I stared at the wall ahead, something suddenly filling my throat like the urge to be sick, to stagger away from that door and what was behind it.

I was already half pushing away from the wall when the wave of emotion hit me like a brick. Like someone inside that room had slipped up, had lost control of what kept their feelings locked deep, deep down, because what they were doing right now was a struggle in itself, a struggle like having a hand around your throat that kept you from breathing.

I didn't know how I knew it was him. I just knew that the way his emotions vibrated under my skin, causing my knees to give out and my body to silently slide down the wall to collapse to the ground as I fought for air, was uniquely his.

Rhys was drowning.

I could feel it, feel the way his sense of self and his will to fight dwindled like they were slowly dragged under water. Overrun and fought to their knees by pain.

Pain that felt like ghostly fingernails running over his skin, like actions that broke apart pieces of him and caused guilt to drown him without his limbs fighting.

It was humiliation, and repulsion, and numbness. And fear.

Fear, so overwhelming and all-consuming, it wrapped around my throat like a rope, pulling tighter and tighter as I crouched frozen at the wall, tears streaming down my cheeks and something in my chest shattering silently as I squeezed my eyes shut.

I didn't know how I long I was sitting in the shadows, nor could I place the moment when Rhys' emotions slipped away like he had found the gap in his armor and patched it back up. But the remnants of them still clung to my chest, joining into a heaviness when I could hear movements behind the door.

Quickly and with shaking hands, I pulled myself to my feet, slipping back down the hall and into the shadows at the corner to the next, tear tracks cool against my cheeks when I watched the door open.

My heart stilled as I watched Amarantha appear in the hall, slipping her dress over her legs with a satisfied smile.

Something started swirling under my skin, growing with every second. Power, golden light that raged like fire, roaring and threatening to break free, to unleash and make the mountain collapse into itself as golden light wrapped around Amarantha's throat –

Swallowing, I forced it down with trembling hands.

Not like this.

It had taken years to gather enough information, barely any whispers trickling out of the mountain. Years to figure out that she had the High Lords under her control, chained to the mountain, all while her guards wreaked havoc on the lands outside. Courts withering, faeries dying.

The children from Winter had been the last straw.

I had to find a way to free the High Lords, get back their powers. Attacking Amarantha would just risk something happening to those caught down here, or outside.

Sinking back into the shadows, I watched Amarantha disappear into the other direction. I waited until she was gone, waited some more, just to make sure. Then I slipped down the hall.

The door creaked a little when I pushed it open, and cringing lightly, I hastily slipped through, closing it behind me carefully before raising my head, and my heart skyrocketed.

Rhys was standing at the opposite wall, his bare back towards me and shoulders shifting as he tensed, going rigid. He didn't turn around when he mumbled: “Anything else?”

His deep voice took away my breath, something tightening harshly in my chest at it's roughness.

He sounded defeated.

His name tumbled from my lips before I could stop it, quiet and hoarse and a little shaky.

“Rhys.”

He froze.

I watched as his shoulders straightened. He looked like he was holding his breath, his hands closing so tightly around the shirt in his hands, his knuckles turned white as he stared at the wall ahead, and for a second, I thought I could see a tremble run over his spine.

I took a step forward, whispering: “Rhys?”

His head turned ever so slightly, like he was forcing himself not to turn around but couldn't fully control his body, and I saw the moment he caught onto my scent.

His nose flared, and his limbs went utterly and fully still, like for a second, he even stopped breathing. Then he looked over his shoulder, and I stared at him, felt something surge high in my chest when his gaze found mine.

Rhys blinked, and my bottom lip trembled when his eyes became glossy, one corner of his lips curving slowly. Then he whispered, rough voice broken: “You're not real.”

My heart clenched violently, and I swallowed, staring at him through the haze of pain. Then I moved towards him, slowly but steadily, and I could feel Rhys fight the closer I got, like the instinct to reach out and the fear of reaching right through me were battling in his chest.

Halting a few inches away, stopping to keep myself from moving even though every part of me screamed at me to get closer, I swallowed before carefully reaching out a hand.

When my fingers brushed over his arm, something rippled through Rhys' body. His eyes snapped up from where he had watched my hand almost fearfully, flying to meet mine as his glossed over ones grew wide and his lips parted.

I sniffled, nose crunching as I sent him a smile, wobbly and uneven.

“Not getting rid off me that easily, remember?”, I whispered, and Rhys' hand closed around my wrist to yank me forward, into his arms.

My heart stopped when my chest collided with his.

It felt like I was thrown into one of the dreams that had haunted me for fifty years, dreams in which he'd been there, had grinned at me and teased me and been his gloriously annoying self, dreams I had woken from with a weight on my chest pressing me down, because I could feel the memory of his presence slip through my fingers.

Only now, I didn't wake up, and there was no pressing knowledge somewhere buried in the depth of my mind that it was nothing but a dream.

No, Rhys was there, tall and solid as he wrapped himself around me, clinging to me like I could be ripped away from him any second, and my breath hitched when I could feel the way his body started to tremble.

Something small in my chest shattered silently, and barely suppressing a soft whimper as pressure rose in my throat, I hastily wrapped my arms around his shoulders and held onto him. Held onto him, his skin cool under my mine, muscles taut as a bowstring when my fingers dug into the back of his shoulders and I clung to him, and Rhys laughed, wet and desperate and causing my chest to tighten so harshly, I hiccuped. His hands grabbed at my back, my dress, one finding its way into my hair, and I fought the heavy weight on my chest and the way my voice thickened when I whispered: “Hello.”

Rhys whimpered, his trembling fingers tightening their hold like he tried to drag me closer, like I wasn't already pressed into his chest, his breath shaking like the rest of him when he buried his face in the crook of my neck, and I could feel the second his walls broke. His chest started heaving, and something warm and wet pooled on my skin.

“It's okay.” I squeezed my eyes shut as I held onto him, feeling tears roll over my cheek as the ache in my chest spread, and my voice broke a little when I whispered: “I'm real.”

A shaking sob broke from Rhys' throat, and his fingers dug into my skin when he breathed out with a shudder that shook his body. Then he pulled back, nose pressing into my hair for a second, and when I raised my head, his hand slipped up to curl around the back of my neck, and Rhys pressed his forehead against mine. His quick, unsteady breaths made my heart skip, and I forced open my eyes, staring at him and his scrunched eyebrows and the tears silently rolling over his cheeks as he fought for air.

Quickly, I slid my hands down to press them against his sides, feeling my voice crack a little when I whispered: “Breathe.”

Rhys' eyes flew open, and the world staggered when his violet iris met mine, shimmering with tears and everything shining through them, like a dam inside of him had broken. He stared at me like I was the night sky he hadn't seen for fifty years, his fingers curling into my hair.

His eyes tracked the dried tears on my cheeks, and then his body went awfully still.

For a second, Rhys gazed down at me, his throat working as he swallowed harshly and his grip slackened a little. His eyes flickered over mine, and his voice, rough and fragile, broke a little when he mumbled: “How long have you been outside?”

I tried to breathe against the heaviness in my chest as I stared up at him, losing the fight against the way my throat closed as my vision blurred and my bottom lip wobbled.

My silence was answer enough.

Rhys' fingers twitched, and I could feel him freeze, pulling back, but I dug my fingers into his bare skin and swallowed harshly, a tear running over my cheek when I whispered, voice shaking: “I'm going to kill her.”

Rhys' eyes followed the tear, widening slightly, and suddenly, he looked panicked.

“You have to leave.”

“Rhys –“

“You have to get out of here, if she finds you with me –“ His breath quickened, his wide eyes causing something to squeeze my heart harshly.

In over a hundred years, I had never seen him like this, so utterly and completely afraid; fear, sheer frantic panic rolling off him in waves, completely ungarded -

“Indeed.”

I could feel the way Rhys froze under my hands when my eyes flew over to the door.

Could feel the wave of his unbridled dread crash over me when the female in the door smiled, her eyes flashing and blood-red hair glimmering in the candle light.

“Now look at that…”

☆

My knees dragged over the stone floors as the guards hauled me into the great, cavernous hall, Amarantha sauntering after us, Rhys behind her as he struggled against the males containing him, his teeth bared even as I could feel, smell the panic rolling off of him.

I tried to reach him, but the powers raging under my skin were slowly slipping out of my control, roaring at the way I could feel him struggle.

“Drop her.” Amarantha waved her hand casually, raising her brows as the guards dumped me to the ground in the middle of the hall and turning towards Rhys.

“You know, I really thought you'd have better taste.” Her tone was mocking, her smile amused. “A servant… and a faerie no less.”

Rhys fought against the guards holding him, but I could see the way his movements were restrained, like she was containing him. He looked like he was vibrating with unbridled fury, but there was something burning under the surface as I forced myself to my feet, something that made my heart tighten harshly.

Amarantha tutted softly, smiling widely. Her eyes raked over Rhys' face, and they sharpened. Then she raised a brow.

“Oh.”

Something skipped high and harsh against my ribs, and one corner of her lips quirked.

“Now that's interesting. Is it possible…” She tipped her head to the side, and Rhys grew rigid.

“You care for her. Oh now, now.” Amarantha laughed, and it rung through the air. “How quaint.” She smiled widely, and it sent a shiver down my spine as her eyes danced.

“The mighty High Lord and the faerie. I wonder…” Sauntering towards me, she reached out, her nails lightly raking over my jaw to tip it up, and I hissed at her, causing her to chuckle.

“Well, she is feisty. Still.” Her head tipped to the side, considering me like prized piece of cattle, and Rhys' struggle grew as she slowly started to smile and raised her brows mildly as she turned to look at him.

“I think you need a reminder who you belong to.”

Moving back, she lightly dipped her head, and someone kicked the back of my legs, causing them to buckle.

Sharp pain shot through my knees when I crashed to the floor, and I could feel my dress shift. Then rough hands pushed me forward and the fabric was ripped open, slipping down my back.

My heart skipped high into my throat, and I tried to reach out on instinct to cover myself, but my wrists were seized, forced away from my body.

I could hear the sound of a struggle, and when my eyes rose, Rhys was trying to tear himself away from the guards holding him, a terrifying snarl on his face. But Amarantha just smiled and placed a finger on her lips.

Iron shackles closed around my wrists, dragging my arms apart until I was kneeling, and my fingers started shaking as I tried to contain the magic brimming under the surface, the golden light trying to break out to rage around me. I forced up my head, and Amarantha raised a brow.

There was movement at the corner of my eye. Then something struck my back with such force, my body was thrown forward.

Burning pain seared over my skin, and a scream forced its way from my throat.

My back arched, trying to twist away, pain pulsing through my body and leaving my muscles trembling, and Rhys roared.

With one mighty rip, he broke away from the guards trying to contain him, but before he could make it even a few feet, Amarantha struck, and Rhys crumbled to the ground.

“No!” I struggled against the iron chains, magic surging under my skin as pressure build behind my eyes and an angry sound ripped from my throat.

“How precious.” Amarantha sounded bored and a little disdainful, waving her hand as she turned away, and two guards grabbed Rhys' arms, dragging him up until he was kneeling, forcing his head up.

He was bleeding, his brow cut, but it was nothing compared to the anguish in his eyes as they found mine, wild and desperate.

Fighting against the tug in my chest, I squeezed my burning eyes shut for a second before opening them again, staring at him as my body trembled.

“I,”, my voice broke with strain, “can take it.”

Amarantha chuckled. “Oh dear.”

Another hit struck my back, the whip slashing the air and through my skin, and a low scream tore from my throat. Tears brimmed at the corner of my eyes, my breath trembling at the pain pulsing through my back and into my body, and from holding onto the whirling storm in my chest.

“I doubt it.” Amarantha's eyes were glimmering with wicked delight, and as the next lash hit my back, I forced my head up, my body shaking as I gritted my teeth and fought the tears pooling from my eyes as they found the male behind her.

My heart stilled.

Went silent in my chest at the way he stared at me, head pulled back by his hair as the guards forced him to watch, his eyes wide, body rigid like he was gripped in an iron fist. There was something swirling in his gaze, not just anguish; pure torment, and intertwined with it was something else, something that reached so deep, I lost my breath.

No more.

The words seemed to whisper through my mind, through the fog and the pain, growing stronger as the air around me started to flimmer.

No more.

My eyes pierced into Rhys', a tremble going through my body. Then something settled in my chest.

No more.

Golden light bloomed around me as I let go. Allowed the whispers of magic to swarm me, flittering over my back, their whispering touch gentle, and I could feel the wounds close, leaving nothing behind but even skin.

The hum seemed to grow still, until I could feel the power in every inch of my body, pulsing and whirling, and Amarantha's voice reached me, sharp as she called to her guards: “Stop her, now -“

A wave of golden light erupted from my body.

Amarantha and the guards holding me got ripped off their feet, flung through the air, the males crashing into the walls as Amarantha slammed into the steps of the dais.

And as the ground started to tremble, the mountain itself rumbling like thunder, the shackles fell of my wrists and I pushed myself to my feet, golden swirls of magic building around me like a hurricane as rage carried me.

The doors flew open as guards streamed in, dozens and dozens more, barking orders as they took position and advanced, and power surged through my body.

The ground shook, then thick vines bursted from the stone floors. They slithered through the air, wrapping themselves around the guards and flinging them through the room, wrapping them up tight and engulfing them, their screams drowned as they turned into giant trees. Weapons turned into slithering branches, closing around their owner's arms and throats, armor grew green moss like treebark as I dodged a sword blow in a swift movement. Arrows flying at me turned into bursts of petals as I dove and slipped the guard's sword out of his hand, slashing it over his throat in one precise movement, and another wave of magic pulsed through my body, sending a wave that tore the remaining guards off their feet, swords and armor clattering when they crashed into the walls and onto the floors.

Raising my head, I felt the light around me flimmer, illuminating the sword in my hand for another moment as I slowly straightened, power surging through my body as the golden whisps began to disperse and I felt my breath again, quick and heavy. Something flickered in my chest when my gaze darted over the throne room, trees growing from stone floors, their branches stretching high up the cavernous ceiling, petals drifting over the ground and unconcious guards strewn across the floor.

The rage in my chest slowly washed away, a deep exhale leaving me, and looking over my shoulder, I felt something rise in my chest.

Rhys was still kneeling on the ground, having caught himself as the guards holding him had been torn across the room. His eyes were wide as his gaze darted over the hall, then they found mine, and something skipped so harshly into my throat, I lost my breath.

Rhys was staring at me like I had ripped open the mountain to show him the stars.

Something rose in my chest, fluttering like a hurricane, and turning around, I quickly stepped over a guard's legs and held out a hand, pulling him to his feet.

Slowly straightening, Rhys stared down at me, and his eyes began to shine in a way that made my breath catch.

There was a light flash of silver from the corner of my eye. I turned my head, and for a moment, time slowed.

Without thinking, I moved, the sword slipping from my hand and clattering to the ground as my fingers closed around Rhys' elbows and dragged him with me as I turned, turned until he was facing the dais and I was in the way, the way of –

Sharp pain struck my back.

I could feel my eyes widen, how time staggered just like my heart when hot, all consuming pain slowly spread from a point somewhere right beneath my shoulder blades. Then my eyes found Rhys', and the way he stared at me, his eyes growing wide, made time fall back into place.

My knees toppled lightly when pain crashed over me like a tidal wave, and Rhys dove forward to catch me. His pupils were blown wide as a wave of panic washed over me that wasn't my own, terrifying and mindnumbing as his hands frantically moved over my body, gripping my hips, pushing up my chin.

The pulsing pain from my back seemed to slowly consume my body, and my heart stuttered.

“No.” Rhys' voice ripped its on wound through my chest, disbelieving, hollow and horrified. His eyes darted over my face, all the color draining from his features, but he looked a bit blurred, like he was drifting away from me. I tried to grab at his chest, my movements strangely slow.

“Go.” My voice sounded strained to my own ears, but I forced myself to focus on Rhys' face, trying to fight past the pain the look on his face caused in my chest. His brows twitched as his eyes, panicked and frantic, darted over my face, and I pressed: “Get. Her.”

Rhys stared at me. Then something shifted in his eyes, beginning to glow, and his head rose, a terrifying growl rumbling from his chest.

“You.”

His hands slipped away from my arms and I could feel him move past me, something skipping high in my chest as I staggered lightly, dropping to my knees.

Forcing myself to straighten, I tried to suppress a whimper when I reached my hand up my back, twisting and feeling a rough sound built in my throat at the pain the movement sent cursing through my body.

My fingers slipped over something cold, and with a pressed sound, I pulled the blade out of my body. It clattered onto the stone, and the floor swayed under my knees when for a second, all I could see were black spots dancing before my eyes as something hot ran over my pulsing back.

Behind me, I heard the sound of fighting, snarls that made the hairs at the back of my neck rise, and I forced my head up to look over my shoulder. My vision swam, and my breath stilled when I heard the sound of a body hitting the ground heavily, heart rising into my throat as my eyes focused.

Rhys was kneeling on the ground before Amarantha, a sword pressed against the back of his neck as she snarled at him, hands curled into his hair, forcing his head back. I could see the fight in the strain in his shoulders, like he was battling her in his mind, but his body was trembling.

“Oh, I do like you on your knees.” Amarantha bared her teeth, and something shifted in my chest, blooming into a soundless roar as I pushed myself to my feet.

My fingers closed around the hilt of the sword I had dropped, the heavy blade beginning to glow in my grip, and Amarantha raised her head and scoffed.

“Don't be ridiculous.” She snarled as she stepped away, Rhys caught frozen, limbs trembling in a vain effort to free himself. “I posses the powers of all the High Lords of Prythian. No iron, no steel can defeat me, not even your powers. I have killed Fae for centuries.” Her eyes flickered over me, her lips curling. “You're no match for me, little faerie.”

Golden whisps of magic began to rise around me, the branches of the trees growing out of the stone rustling with a harsh wind, the vines creaking as they slithered, bowing into my direction as I walked towards Amarantha, magic beginning to grow under my skin until I could feel it glow.

I deflected the first blow of Amarantha's sword as it came crashing down, the force making the mountain rumble. Then I swerved to the right, blade slashing through the air as the space around us started to vibrate with power and my sword began to shine brighter and brighter.

“Give up!” Amarantha's voice shook the hall like thunder. “You'll never defeat me, you're a faerie, you'll just -”

My heart rose, and the mountain sang.

When my next blow came crashing down, it splintered Amarantha's sword in two with a blast of golden power. She dropped the useless hilt, eyes growing wide as her head whipped up, and my sword sank into her chest, deeper and deeper until we were face to face.

"I'm not just any faerie,”, I whispered.

A surge of power rippled through the air when I pulled the sword from Amarantha's chest, and I could feel the wards trembling. Then they shattered, the whole mountain groaning as I whirled around and swung the sword, the blade whizzing through the air and cleanly cutting off Amarantha's head.

Blood spattered, and with a thud, the female's lifeless body dropped to the ground.

Breathing heavily, I straightened, and my sword clattered as it hit the floor. The golden shimmer around me pulled back into my body, and suddenly, the world tilted.

My knees gave out, and I would have crashed down the steps if I hadn't been caught, arms wrapping around me and a familiar scent washing over me, causing my heart to jump weakly against my ribs.

I thought I heard a voice, deep and familiar and utterly panicked, calling my name as a warm hand closed around the side of my face, shaking me. But my lids were suddenly heavy, blinking becoming harder with the second. My body felt a bit like it was beginning to float; no more pain, only a strange, calm feeling, my limbs too heavy to move.

Through the fog, I heard the voice, thick and trembling, words not quite reaching me. Then something warm pressed against my temple, nudging my cheek.

“Stay with me.”

☆

Stay with me.

My eyes opened with a flutter, and I sucked in a sharp breath.

My gaze was blurry at first, but I thought I saw a high ceiling, far above me, the branches of trees, and felt arms holding me, propping me up against a warm, solid body that suddenly grew rigid.

Blinking, I breathed out before letting my head slowly roll to the side, and my eyes met another pair.

My heart skipped softly against my ribs at the sight of violet, mixed with starlight in eyes gleaming with tears, widening when they found mine as their owner became completely still.

I blinked, feeling slowly seeping back into my body, and a small sound broke from the back of my throat.

“Ow,”, I mumbled softly.

Rhys stared at me. Stared from shimmering eyes that were blown wide, wet tear tracks on his cheeks. His hand cradling my jaw was trembling, and something shifted gently in my chest at the way he seemed to fight for air. Then he blinked, and the tears in his eyes welled as his lips curved and a sobbed laugh left him, deep and shaking my body as Rhys dropped his head, his arms slipping around me until he was clinging to me, holding me to his chest as he pressed his nose against my temple.

I could feel his shuddering exhale, and how tears began to soak my hair, and something rose in my chest, fluttering wildly as it surged and pressure built behind my eyes, my fingers trembling as I curled them into his arm holding me.

Rhys' grip tightened, then he lightly pulled back his head. His hand slipped to rest against the side of my neck, and my breath hitched, stumbling until it stilled when he slowly started to smile at me. Smiled brighter and brighter, wide and radiant until deep creases formed in his cheeks and his violet eyes twinkled like a sky full of stars, and his voice was quiet and a bit hoarse when Rhys whispered thickly: “Hello, starshine.”

☆

Stepping out into the cool morning air, I breathed in deeply, closing my eyes for a second.

My body was still aching a little, my head thrumming, but it was duller now, like it was slowly ebbing away. The magic under my skin was no longer raging and whirling, instead buzzing softly from the healing I had done in the past few hours, Fae and faeries alike.

The wards had come down, the second Amarantha had died. Shortly after, the doors to the hall had burst open, and Rhys had gripped me tighter when all the High Lords had stormed inside, their newly returned powers thrumming just like the one's of the male holding me.

He had reluctantly left me alone, only after several insurances that I was fine and some mild teasing threats, his swagger returning to him as his mask slipped into place as he had joined the High Lords standing over Amarantha's body, her severed head turned towards the ceiling, her eyes staring lifelessly into the air.

Dropping my shoulders and stretching them slowly, my skin tingled gently right under my shoulder blades, and like instinct, I reached back, twisting my arm until I could brush my fingers over the spot where only a few hours ago, a dagger had nearly, maybe taken my life.

The skin was soft there now, and unblemished, as Rhys had showed me with a quick glimpse into my head.

Like there had never been any wound in the first place.

Letting my arm fall back to my side, I breathed out again before turning, and my heart did a soft skip when my gaze landed on the familiar male a bit away, standing on a ledge, head tipped back as he stared up at the sky that was slowly turning from a pale blue into a soft pink.

My heart skipped, and I hesitated for a second, then I carefully stepped onto the big ledge and softly called: “Rhys?”

My quiet voice carried through the cool air, and when he looked over his shoulder, my chest tightened harshly.

Tears were streaming over his face, his eyes shimmering as they reflected the sky, and I moved, darting towards him and stretching to slip my arms around his shoulders.

Rhys breathed out with a shudder, and his hands closed around my waist, pulling me tightly into his chest. Then he turned his head and buried his face in the crook of my neck. I could feel his tears drip onto my skin as soundless sobs left his body trembling, and my heart tightened harshly as my eyes welled.

Quickly pressing my nose against his shoulder, I let his pain wash over me, my chest aching as tears trickled over my cheeks and I buried my fingers in his hair.

By the time Rhys' sobs had faded away and the tears on my shoulder had dried as he just held me, the sun had started to rise on the horizon.

Carefully pulling back a bit, I looked up at him, finding his eyes already on my face, raw with emotion I couldn't quite decipher.

“Go home,”, I whispered softly, and a shudder went through Rhys' body, his hands tightening their grip around my waist for a moment.

His eyes searched mine, then he blinked.

“Come with me.”

I blinked, feeling my lips part in surprise as I stared up at him. There was no hesitation in his eyes, no doubt, nothing. Just something that looked a bit like a soft, feverish plea.

I blinked, and warmth slowly spread through my body, something closing gently around my throat.

“I can't,”, I mumbled, and Rhys' grip loosened, causing me to quickly curl my fingers into his shirt.

“No, I just,”, I huffed a little, frowning at him, "not yet." Breathing out, I tipped my head to the side and sent him a soft, helpless smile. “There are still so many in there who need my help. High Fae and faeries alike. And in the courts. I can't just –“

Rhys exhaled, and my heart skipped into my throat when he dropped his head to rest his forehead against mine, his hands gently closing around my waist.

“You're awfully inconsistent, you know that?”, he whispered, and his rough voice sent a soft tingle over my skin. “You claim to not like the High Fae, and yet, you're still helping them.”

“I know.” I gently tapped my finger against his chest. “I mean, I constantly help you, what's that all about?"

Rhys huffed, and I grinned lightly before pulling back and mumbling: “They've suffered enough for a while.”

Rhys blinked, and his eyes moved over my face, something beginning to glow gently in his iris.

“Promise that when you're finished, you'll come to Velaris.”

Staring up at him, I felt my heart flutter genly against my ribs. Then I blinked and slowly smiled, soft and cheeky.

“I promise.”

Rhys' eyes flickered over mine, and something tightened in my chest, my heart skipping when I quickly said: “Promise you'll find me if you need me?”

The male's gaze moved over my face, and slowly, one corner of his lips rose, just the tiniest bit.

“Promise,”, he mumbled, his deep voice sending a soft tingle down my spine, and I breathed out, a weight slipping from my shoulders.

For a second, I stared up at him, then, before I could stop myself, I stretched to press my lips onto his cheek.

Rhys' grip around me tightened, and my heart rose into my throat when I allowed myself to linger for just a second. Then I let myself sink back to the ground, and my breath hitched when Rhys dropped his head like he was trying to follow me.

The male blinked and slowly straightened again, staring down at me, a look in his eyes that made my chest squeeze gently.

Slowly, I took a step backwards, sending him a soft, crooked smile as I lightly poked his ribs.

“Go.” Warmth spread through my chest as I raised my brows. “They've been waiting long enough.”

Rhys exhaled, a weight seeming to slip from his shoulders, and I turned around. I could feel his eyes track me as I made my way back towards the entrance in the mountain.

When I looked back before stepping through, he was gone like the night breeze.

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @stayinglow-exploringworlds @tcris2020

[dimension20npcofalltime]

Round Four (Semi-Final) - Bracket Two [Dimension 20 NPC of All Time Sidequest Edition]

Wuvvy vs Stacy Fakename vs Meatwolf

Propaganda under the cut (May contain major spoilers for A Court of Fae and Flowers, Mentopolis and Burrow's End)

Wuvvy - She/Her

Campaign: A Court of Fae and Flowers

Who is she?

Wuvvy is Delloso de la Rue's close friend and former assistant.

Why is she the NPC of All Time?

She's a champion who left her court to become an assistant. She regularly exchanges 'I love you's with her crush, who only sees her as a friend. She is hurt by them but challenges their love interest to a duel instead. She ripped up the letter. She's devoted and messy and angry. Love of my life, NPC of all time.

She deserves better. Queen shit.

She's worked so hard. She deserves this

Wuvvy is a loyal freind who will cut a bitch if necessary

Cited by both Brennan and Aabria as one of their favorite NPCs of all time, and the only NPC that Brennan has ever wanted to sideline a campaign to follow. For a good part of the campaign, she provides the emotional depth that isn't present in the rest of the campaign, and creates conflict that matches the theme and genre of the campaign. One of the most intriguing and compelling NPCs of all times, side quest or not, and also a perfect girl who should be allowed to commit crimes because she deserves it.

Have you seen her?? beautiful prey turned predator. part of the most heart wrenching love triangle

Stacy Fakename - She/Her

Campaign: Mentopolis

Who is she?

Stacy Fakename is the personification of flight, one of Elias Hodge's reflexes.

Why is she the NPC of All Time?

It’s such a good bit with such a good payoff

Meatwolf - He/Him

Campaign: Burrow's End

Who is he?

Meatwolf, or The Wolf of Theseus is a wolf that was experimented on by the First Stoats to make it a weapon.

Why is he the NPC of All Time?

The goodest boy with the goodest name. Was supposed to be a scary but was turned into an adorable ball of totally non-horrific hugs thanks to a bit of kindness from Tula.

[chairofchaos]

Death

This is a sequel to When the Blood Burns. There are SPOILERS IN SUMMARY. Also, READ THE WARNINGS. You have been warned!

Pairing: Azriel x Eris Vanserra Summary: After Azriel kills his mate, what awaits him after his own life ends? Will he ever see Eris again? Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1k Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. Major Character Death. Angst. A/N: Did I mention that I forgot to post this? Oops. Anyways. The next part is worse, and you will not feel better unless I feel extremely benevolent when I finally finish it. Which... I don't feel benevolent, at the moment. You have been warned.

The Velaris Star

Death Notices

Lord Azriel Vanserra, 45, passed away Monday, October 9. Funeral proceedings to be held in the Temple Proper on 16th street, Velaris, Saturday, October 14. Details on Page 6. 

Obituaries

Azriel Vanserra, 45, of Velaris, Night Court, died on October 9 from complications from treatment of wounds sustained during the War. 

He was born in Windhaven, Illyria. Upon completion of his training, he served as spymaster to the former High Lord of Night Court.

Azriel found the most enjoyment in the training and teaching of others. In his time as spymaster, he regularly found time to work with young soldiers, for which many have since thanked him, crediting him with saving their lives by instructing them in his limited spare time. In the years since the war, Azriel enjoyed collecting books from all over the world. The collection he amassed was the instigator for a library to honor his mate. 

The Eris Vanserra Memorial Library, located on Archer Street in the Rainbow, was established as a permanent branch of the Nights Alive foundation earlier this year. Nights Alive is a humanitarian aid project of the leadership of Night to support the veterans and victims of the War, and all those displaced by the battles which were waged. Staffed by fae who have sought refuge in the borders of Night following the raising of the Wall, the Library will continue to be a place of rest for those who desire a temporary escape from their struggles. Azriel’s support of the Library and its initiatives was well known, as he was there nearly every day, often in the Orange Room, where he would enjoy speaking with other veterans and their families over a cup of coffee.

Azriel was preceded in death by his mate, Lord Eris Vanserra, and his adopted sister, Lady Stella Cicaro. He is survived by his adopted brothers, High Lord Rhysand Cicaro, Lord Cassian Lunae, and his cousin, Lady Morrigan Savis.

All services to be held in the Velaris Temple Proper, 16th Street. Memorial service will begin at 19:00. Funeral proceedings will begin at 21:00, with a private burial to follow. In lieu of flowers, please consider making a donation to the Eris Vanserra Memorial Library.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Welcome, Azriel.” A soft voice. 

Azriel had bowed before the face of death when she came to greet him. This must be the afterlife.

There were no doors, no windows. No visible source of light, and yet he could see.

Stone walls, as far as he could see. A hallway through the doorway over his left shoulder. And in front of him, a throne where a figure began to materialize around that voice.

“Azriel.” The figure on the throne solidified in front of him. “I am the Mother.”

He bowed, silent, stoic. His wings shifted behind him. His body, his wings, did not ache in this world. His hands were unmarred by scarring. He felt almost as though he were floating.

“Rise, Azriel,” she said. He could hear a small smile in her voice. He could rest here. He would be fine. 

She wore a dress of cobalt blue. It would have matched his siphons, but he did not wear them here. He had no need to fight. He would not have to fight anymore.

The Mother raised a pale hand to her face, raising the solid panel of fabric that veiled her figure until it fell back over her shoulders. She was different than he imagined she would be. More human seeming than fae.

“Do you know where you are?” she asked. Her blue eyes cut into his soul. He could feel her watching, examining, even as she wrapped a curled strand of dark blonde hair around her finger. Perhaps he imagined it, but she seemed almost sad.

“This is the afterlife,” he remarked. 

She smiled. It was unreadable. “Yes.”

“It was a slow death,” he added. 

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Do they mourn? I wasn’t kind, in the end.”

“They mourn. They mourn you deeply.”

Azriel sighed. “I wish they didn’t.”

The Mother’s head tilted to the side, that curl falling as she lowered her hand to the armrest of the throne. “Why?”

“I killed him,” he said stoically. 

The Mother sighed, gazing off to the side. It was not a tired sigh. It was pained. “I know.”

“I deserved to die.”

“You all die, eventually,” she remarked as her gaze snapped back to him with piercing precision. “Does that mean you all deserve death?”

Azriel ignored her. He couldn’t respond. Eris had not deserved the death he received. He had deserved a long life, peace, and a family.

“Azriel,” she said gently. He met her eyes. Blue. Blue, and sorrowful.

“I am not staying here, am I?” he asked quietly. She paused, fingers tracing whorls in the wooden grain of the throne’s arm. 

“I wish you could,” she sighed again. “It is beyond my power.”

He nodded. “Where am I to go?”

“To fight,” she looked at him sorrowfully. “You did not mean to, but you killed your mate. You will not know peace until you have been cleansed of his blood.”

“How long?” Azriel asked. “Will I see him, in the end?”

“I do not know,” she said. “I only know you will suffer. But in the end, yes. You will see him again.”

“That is all I ask,” he bowed again. 

“I am sorry, my child,” she whispered, standing. “I am.”

“There was nothing you could do?” he asked. “I begged you.”

She shook her head. “He would have died, regardless.”

“Did I… did I lose my wings?” he asked. 

She smiled that terrible, sad smile. “Sometimes. Sometimes you lost them, and sometimes, you didn’t. The only surety was that he died that day, and that you died on this one. His death is the tragedy of love. Your death becomes a lesson for those that follow. To be careful.”

“Mother,” Azriel looked at her before him, in that shimmering dress, her sorrowful eyes and gentle smile. “Did he love me?”

“He loves you more than life itself,” she answered.

Everything faded away.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Taglist: @ninthcircleofprythian @lilah-asteria @dusk-muse @c-starstuff-man0

Let me know if you want on or off the tag train! You have been warned.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

chapter v – gust & flame

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.

Word Count: 3,000+

Warnings: spoilers for entire ACOTAR series

masterlist

Y/N opened her eyes with a wince. This seemed like deja vu from when she had first arrived in the Night Court.

But now she could recognize her whereabouts. A fire was crackling at the opposite end of the room. But the smell of lavender and fresh flowers was a new addition. 

She tried to sit up to investigate.

Whoever had placed her here clearly meant to lay her on her stomach, and she expected to feel a lightning strike of pain.

But there was none. 

Oh, Cauldron. She had been slashed across her back with a sword. 

“The healers mended your back, but your body will still be sore.”

Y/N quickly turned her head to see that Azriel was sitting in a chair behind her. Papers were in his lap and there was a large mug of tea on the table beside him. 

Had he been watching over her this whole time? 

“How long have I been out?” Her voice was so raspy, somewhat answering her own question. 

“A couple days,” Azriel frowned. 

She glanced around the room, seeing a dozen bouquets. 

The Shadowsinger followed her gaze.

“Gifts from Rhys,” he answered without question. “He and Feyre will never forget what you did for Nyx.” 

“He’s just a baby. Anyone would have done the same…” Y/N shrugged, belittling her own actions. 

Azriel leaned forward, only sincereness found on his face. “What you did was brave, Y/N. I’ve seen 300-year-old males run from lesser. Do not discredit yourself so swiftly.” 

It was strange getting such a compliment, especially from a male – and one as handsome as Azriel. She hoped her face didn’t look as hot as it felt. 

To change the subject, she pointed to the handful of potted plants that sat amongst the bouquets of flowers. “And…the herbs?”

“Rhys has been…researching witchcraft. He also studied the protective smudge Nyx had in his hand.” Azriel smirked. “His way of thanking people tends to involve giving them an absurd amount of gifts.” He gestured to all the flowers and herb plants. “And this will be not be the end of his thanks.” 

Y/N bit back a grin. 

It was sweet, but unnecessary. 

Rhysand was a High Lord – and perhaps the most powerful one at that. He needn’t waste so much money and effort doing such things for her. She was just a human.

Then Y/N remembered...

“Cassian!” She gasped, sitting up even straighter. 

Azriel held up a hand, trying to calm her down. “Fae’s heal quickly,” he assured her.

And then gave her a shy smile, “Stubborn Illyrians, even quicker. Cass is already back to training the Valkyries today.” 

Y/N didn’t know what Valkyries were, but she was too distracted by her relief that Cassian was alright to bother asking. Maybe she’d ask the wind later, if she even remembered. 

“How are you feeling?” Azriel asked softly. 

“Umm…better than I should be.” Carefully, she swung her legs off the bed to stand. “Guess I have you faes and your healing magic to thank for that.” 

“Well, it appears you have even more tricks up your sleeve. Feyre was rather impressed with your salt shield.”

“And Nyx is alright?”

“Yes, Y/N.” Azriel tried to calm her. “He was shaken, but he will be fine. Everyone has just been worried about you.” 

“Oh,” she muttered under her breath. 

It had been awhile since anyone worried about her. There used to be. Her mother. Her sister. Her entire coven. But those days had passed long ago.

“Rhys wanted me to invite you to dinner tonight. Feyre is convinced Nyx is restless and will continue to be until he sees you.”

“Dinner?” Y/N repeated dumbly. 

“Yes, later tonight, at the River House. If you are up for it, of course.” 

The first time she had been to the River House was the day of the attack, to pick up Nyx. But Feyre had walked right out, not even giving them a reason to knock on the front door. If it was as magnificent on the inside as the outside, Y/N was sure she’d feel out of place. 

“Umm…Yes. A-Alright,” Y/N nodded. 

Azriel looked rather happy with that answer. 

It seemed risking her life to save his nephew had finally made Azriel lose all suspicion towards her. (But unbeknownst to Y/N, it had only taken a few days for him not to view her as a threat to his court and those he loved.)

Azriel stood slowly and pointed to the wardrobe. “Mor picked out a dress for you. But wear whatever you wish. I will be here at 7 to take you there.” He opened the door to the hallways to make his leave. “Should you need anything, the House will get it. She’s been worried about you, too.”

Now that she was alone, Y/N slowly walked to the only mirror in the room. 

The healers may have saved her back, but the bruising on her face would have to heal in its own due time. She was still mortal after all. 

She had a split lip and a black eye on the left side of her face, as well as similar bruising below on her cheek, from being punched by the male. 

Despite her injuries, she felt energized after getting two days worth of sleep and rest. And now she needed to get out of her room. 

Y/N closed her door just as two servants were walking by. Surprisingly, there were very few of them. The House seemed to take care of a lot of things. But being the formal location for political meetings, it was still expected to be taken care of by faes. 

“I will meet you after I feed the horses,” one of the females said to the other. 

“Horses?” Y/N didn’t even mean to blurt it out. 

The females both turned to look at her with polite and shy smiles. “Yes, my lady. They belong to the High Lord and Lady.” Then she gave her a side smirk. “But they prefer to…fly, as I’m sure you know.”

“May I come with?” Y/N asked the one who said she was going feed them. 

She bowed her head slightly. “Of course, my lady.”

–––––––––

Eris was riding out with his most loyal sentries. 

They knew of his plan. 

Their exit was purposely planned to gain the attention of the High Lord. Eris wanted his father to see him leaving the Forest House, clearly going on a scouting voyage. 

But as soon as they reached the border a few hours later, Eris would depart from his troops and winnow to the Night Court. 

He hadn’t slept the past two nights, scared out of his mind that Y/N was in danger. 

This morning, he had enough and rushed to his mother’s rooms as soon as he knew she would be awake. 

“If she were dead, you would know it, Eris.” Leonora reassured him. "You would feel it with your entire being."

“But she was so scared and in pain. I could feel it, mother.” 

Eris knew he wouldn’t be in his right mind until he saw for himself that Y/N was alive. And if she was hurt, he wanted to know how it was allowed to happen and to what extent. 

So he knew exactly how much he would hurt Rhysand in return. 

Eris didn’t expect to be able to winnow into the House of Wind, knowing that the entranceway was the only small area that would even allow guests to enter. 

But it seemed Rhysand opened the wards especially for him, for he was standing in a different part of the house. 

A servant was looking at him, and should’ve appeared more surprised to see him. 

She glanced at his bright, red hair. “You must be Lord Eris,” she greeted with a bow. “High Lord Rhysand warned the staff that you would most likely visit.”

“I am sure he did,” Eris sneered. 

The servant only blinked at his aggressive response, maintaining her composure. “Shall we make up a room for you, my lord?”

Eris ignored the question. “Where is…” he hesitated. “Where is Y/N?” 

His question also didn’t seem to surprise the servant at all, as if she was also expecting this from him. 

“She is at the stables, my lord.”

“Show me.” 

--

His entire body was buzzing, knowing that he was getting closer and closer to his mate. 

The servant finally stopped and gestured to the barn just a few yards away. She seemed to know to leave him alone to greet their other guest. 

Eris only nodded his thanks, not used to being polite to the help. In Autumn, he never even looked them in the eye. That was just another unfortunate part of wearing his mask. 

Now that he was alone, Eris allowed himself a moment to take in a deep breath. 

Slowly, he made his way to the opening of the stables. 

When he saw her, the air was knocked out of his lungs. He couldn’t seem to take in a breath. 

Y/N stood barefoot, lovingly petting a black shire horse, who looked to be utterly happy with her attention and affection. 

She wore a casual dress in a soft blue so often found in this court. And Eris was convinced it was actually her nightgown. 

He instantly spotted the bandages that were wrapped around her shoulder and waist, peaking around the fabric of her dress. But he had yet to figure out if it was from a torso or back wound. 

“You’re very a pretty boy,” Eris heard her whisper to the horse. 

A soft wind passed through the stables’ corridor. And that’s when Y/N seemed to finally notice she was no longer alone. 

She whipped around to face him, fear and surprise clear in her eyes. 

That was when Eris could also see the bruises covering her face and the deep split in her lip. 

Y/N quickly took him in, assessing his entrance. 

Eris felt scrutinized as she looked at his attire up and down. He was wearing his Autumn Court uniform of fighting leathers, the colors of his court obvious as ever. He'd never looked more out of place in the Night Court. 

Which was why Y/N whipped out a knife from her back. 

Eris smoothly raised his hands in surrender. “I mean you no harm.” But his words sounded too harsh, too cold.

He cleared his throat. “I did not mean to startle you.” It managed to come out softer.

“You do not belong to the Night Court,” she pointed out, once again eyeing his uniform. 

But before Eris could properly introduce himself, another gust of wind came. This time, it only seemed to swirl around Y/N, making her hair frame her face ever so beautifully. 

“Eris, son of Beron, the High Lord of Autumn Court,” Y/N spoke as if she were responding to the wind and not him. 

Eris tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “The wind has a peculiar way of following you around.”

The acute observation only made Y/N even more uncomfortable and she held up her knife higher. 

But then she squinted, seeming to only be able to stare at his red hair. “You were there that day. I saw you…before…before I…” She shook her head. “You. You were the one who brought me here.” 

Before Eris had a chance to respond, shadows jumped in between the two of them. 

Azriel appeared out of nowhere. No, out of the shadows. 

“Why you here?” He spat at Eris. 

“You know why,” he growled right back. 

“Azriel?” Y/N questioned him with such innocence.

Eris took note of the protective and close stance the Illyrian had toward his mate. And it took great power for him not to growl at him to stay away from her. 

Azriel only slightly turned to her, not wanting to let his guard down with Eris. “Mor offered to help you get ready for dinner. Perhaps you should return to your rooms.” 

When Y/N didn’t move, he fully turned to her and made sure to rid himself of the glare he was giving Eris. “I will be there soon to take you.” 

Y/N eyed him a moment longer before finally leaving. 

She did not lower her weapon as she passed Eris, and she put an egregious amount of space between them as she did. 

But Eris didn’t take his eyes off her as she did so. Even with the distance, he could still see her y/e/c and he took in her scent for as long as he could. Was that a hint of lavender?

Once fully past him, Y/N quickened her steps and disappeared back into the winding hallways of the House of Wind. 

“What happened to her?” Eris growled. 

Azriel’s nostrils flared at question. “She was out hiking in the woods with Cassian and Nyx when they were attacked.”

Eris stepped closer. “By whom?” He hissed. 

“We do not know. But they wanted Nyx. And Y/N risked her life to protect him. When Rhys arrived, he was blinded by his rage, and killed them all. There was no one left alive for me to question.”

Eris gave Azriel his most belittling look. His voice lowered as he muttered, “Unfortunate your High Lord still lives. He broke his vow, after all.”

“It’s unfortunate your High Lord lives, as well. Otherwise you would not need to hide your mate in a court that is not your own.” 

With the word ‘mate,’ Eris lost all composure. 

In one swift motion, Eris unsheathed the knife at his thigh and swung it with the intention of slitting Azriel’s throat. 

But the Shadowsinger caught it. 

“Enough,” a voice said behind Eris. 

Azriel glared at his High Lord over Eris’ shoulder, but still shoved the male away. 

Eris turned to face Rhysand. 

Before he could speak, the High Lord explained, “I asked Azriel to invite you to dinner, but I doubted he would be able to do so before trying to kill you. Seems I was right.”

He offered his hand to Eris, “Come.”

The two of them winnowed, leaving Azriel behind. 

They appeared in front of a manor along a river. It was large, but looked lived-in. Somehow both grand and yet still homey. It was unlike any other home of a High Lord that Eris had ever visited.

“Feyre is waiting for us in the office,” was all Rhysand said before opening the small iron gate and walking up the stone path to the front door. 

But just before Rhysand opened it, he turned to Eris. “This is our home. Do not make me regret bringing you here.”

Eris only gave a curt nod, but still glared. 

When they entered an office, Feyre turned to face them quickly. 

As soon as Rhysand closed the door, giving them privacy, Eris broke the tension.

“Evidently, the bargain failed to kill you. So, there’s no need to be obsequious.” Eris rolled his eyes. “Bringing me into your home, inviting me to dinner with your family…it’s almost offensive that you believe it will make a difference.” 

“We invited you to give you an opportunity,” Rhysand answered, joining his mate’s side as he picked off a piece of lint from his jacket.

“An opportunity for what, exactly?”

“Speak with your mate.” 

It was no surprise that he mentioned Y/N so openly. If Azriel knew, then Rhysand and those closest to him did, too. Eris expected that they would figure it out eventually. 

Eris surprised them by looking at the ground as he carefully asked, “Does she know?” 

“No,” Feyre answered. “I doubt she even knows about mates. Most humans don’t.” 

Eris gave a curt nod before adding, “She must never know.” 

“I can strongly advise from personal experience that it is not recommended,” Rhysand said with a smirk. 

But Eris only scowled in return. 

Rhysand took in a deep breath. “None of us will speak of it to her. I can assure you.”

Eris gave another nod. “I should be on my way.”

He had promised himself to bring the same pain to Rhysand that Y/N had suffered. But being in his mates presence, looking into her eyes, taking in her scent...it had jumbled his thoughts in a way that made it hard to think clearly.

“But you’ve only just arrived,” Feyre argued. 

“We invited you to dinner,” Rhysand reminded him, as if they would be offended Eris left now. 

“I should not linger,” Eris told them. 

Rhysand stepped to him. “You promised Autumn’s loyalty for her. Do you not wish to see who it is you are protecting? The person you so blindly offered your court for?”

Eris seemed to have a storm brewing in his mind. 

Rhysand could tell Eris had trained to protect his mind from his daemati abilities. But the turmoil was still so evident to him. Perhaps because he once stood exactly where the male was now. The torture of knowing one’s mate, but staying away with the belief that they would be happier, safer. 

“Fine,” Eris snapped. 

“Please, make yourself at home in the drawing room,” Feyre told him. 

“I plan on helping myself to whatever spirits you have lingering about,” Eris snapped before walking out of the office and slamming the door behind him. 

Feyre tried to hold back her smile as she turned to her mate. “Why do you treat him so generously now?” She squinted. “Do you truly see yourself in him?”

“Feyre darling, you do not know what it feels like…"

He shook his head at the memories.

"I was aware you were my mate, and you hated me. But at least you knew me. Yes, there was a time when I felt you were out there, before we ever even looked into each other’s eyes. But I do not think I would have had the strength to stay away from you like he is doing.” 

To his surprise, Feyre seemed to give him a look of understanding. “It seems I pity him, too.” 

“I cannot say I expected that,” Rhys smirked. 

“I think one day we will see that Eris has a mask of his own. Perhaps one not so different than your own.” 

“Being mates does not always equate to love,” Rhysand stated darkly. “My parents are proof of that.”

He sighed, “If I see them going in that direction, I will put a stop to it. And Y/N will continue having a place here.”

Feyre leaned into her mate. “This dinner is going to be a mess, isn’t it?”

He smiled. “I will be disappointed if it’s not.”

And then placed a kiss to her head. 

–––––––

let me know if anyone is reading this. send me a message 😔👉🏻👈🏻

how do you think dinner is gonna go?

what do you think Y/N will think of Eris?

chapter vi

[writerfae]

Tell us about Nyx :)

Hi! Thanks for giving me the opportunity to talk about my girl! ^^ Here are some facts about her:

She is the daughter of my antagonist Morena and her late husband, the head of a lower ranking noble family of the Ash Court

As younger of two daughters she normally wouldn’t have gotten the lessons of an heir, but since she adored learning and her older sister didn’t want to leave her out she was allowed to stick around most of the time

Which will come in handy one day, because now that her sister is dead Nyx will inherit the status of head of the family when her mother dies

Nyx can do magic! :)

she had a Keeper’s education (Keeper are something between scholars and fae druids), but dropped out shortly before she was finished

she is a very good listener, she has something about her that makes it easy for people to open up to her and talk their sorrows away

she is also a quiet person and really nice to be around, her presence was described as calming by many people (many of her co apprentices seemed her out before tests to calm their nerves xD)

her singing voice is really nice, her favorite song to sing is a ballad her sister taught her as a child, she likes to dance and sing but didn’t do either in quite a while

Nyx loves flowers and plants, especially lavender (it is also her favorite color, next to blue)

her favorite foods are honey pastries, she and her sister used to sneak them from the kitchen whenever the servants weren’t paying attention (or pretended not to pay attention)

Nyx is aro-ace! (Her sister once joked that Nyx’s greatest love were her books and she’s not too wrong about that)

her and Aiden will meet during the story and they’ll bond a bit, Nyx helps him out at some point, hoping he’ll help her stop her mother in return

because despite being deeply loyal to her mother (since she’s the only family Nyx has left), Nyx thinks what she does is wrong and she needs to be stopped, but Nyx doesn’t have the heart to do it alone

Nyx and Aiden actually have quite a lot in common (I would elaborate but that would be a spoiler xD)

she loves crystals and collects various gems, she also presses flowers and likes to read poetry!

Thanks for your ask :)

[bottlecaprabbitgames]

Hope it's ok to send in a bunch of asks for the birthday Q&A. 😊

If the ROs are having a pleasant dream, what are they dreaming of? If they're having a nightmare, what are they dreaming of?

Is there anything yearly that the ROs look forward to? (e.g. first spring strawberry, changing leaf color, hot weather?)

Is there anyone Sylvia wants to do but hasn't? What's stopping her?

How did the MC's parents meet? What drew them to each other?

If there's spoilers you can skip any question. Thank you!!!

It's perfectly fine, thank you for sending them <3

Blake's pleasant dreams are probably memories. From when he was younger, from when his wife was still alive. If MC is romancing him, they'll steadily fill his dreams, too. His nightmares are similar, but the worst times of his life. The monsters that he couldn't save people from. Finding out what his pack was doing, and taking the move to stop them. The scarier possibilities, like something horrible happening to his teammates.

Loche doesn't have many pleasant dreams. Even if they're 'good' dreams, they'll still wake with a pain in their chest they can barely bear. Memories of their sister, who they'll never see again, if she's even still alive. Most of their dreams revolve around the hell they lived through in the Fae Realms. They'll talk about it, eventually, if you ask them. Even Fawn doesn't know the extent to how horrific it was for them.

Freja's pleasant dreams definitely involve scenes from her favorite novels or the one she's reading currently, playing in her head, but with her as the main character. Her nightmares definitely involve her childhood, as it was definitely a very rough one. Or the cases she's never been able to solve, some dating back all the way to when she first became an Agent.

Iri's good dreams are probably like really strange LOL like they have Weird dreams but not unpleasant. They are fascinated by what their brain manages to conjure up when they're sleeping. Their nightmares revolve around how things are in the Magi world. The extreme classism, the way it's just common to look at Magi born with little or no magic as lesser than others. They are haunted by how they trusted one of the Magistrates to back them and help fuel the rebellion, but was instead double-crossed in the end.

Adontis has quite a few good dreams. A lot of them revolve around when his daughters were so small, and were forever pulling him along to their adventures. Some are of his still living daughter and how she tries to boss him around now that's she's grown. Sometimes he wakes up with a grin on his face just from dreaming about it. His nightmares... he can't make much sense of them, not really. They're from the early days of when he and the original vampires were first infected, but that's been so long ago that the only thing left in his mind of that era is the nightmarish parts his brain pulls out, and he can't tell if they're real or not.

Fawn doesn't really dream. She was always told skinwalkers are cursed and cut off from nature and the energies within it, leaving them barren of dreams. Sometimes of hope. She still has hope, but she can't recall dreaming since she was forcibly turned.

Blake looks forward to Mardi Gras every year! He takes time off to go down to New Orleans and grabs his mother and twin sister to pull along with him. They all three look forward to it because it's one of the few times he gets to visit every year.

I definitely think Loche likes when spring comes back around because everything starts growing leaves again. They find it interesting that the entire world just about it goes through seasons periodically, as the Fae Courts tend to exist in a state of whatever they represent. Even the Wilds didn't have anything in the way of seasons. So, actually, I think they look forward to the changing of each season, just because it happens!

Freja is definitely a spring lady. She likes seeing when the flowers first start blooming at the very end of spring, and she likes the beginning of summer too, especially in areas where people have small home gardens, since she can see the tomatoes starting to come out.

Iri looks forward to the summer solstice and Halloween! Generally, passage out and in to the Magi cities only happens around the equinoxes and solstice, for a week before and after each one. They look forward to the summer one as it's when their friends have free time to leave and they can visit them in the towns just outside the entries to the cities.

Adontis is a fan of fall and winter. Less sun means he can be out more without sacrificing his strength. Also makes it easier to see his coven and his daughter, as they're "newer" vampires and the sun has a grave affect on the youngest few.

Fawn looks forward to fall! She likes watching the leaves change and drop, so she can crunch them under her boots. It's also the perfect time of year to her: not too cold and not too hot, not too rainy, not too sunny. She is also a fan of Halloween, and every Halloween the team tries to take time to watch a bunch of horror movies, which she also looks forward to, as it lets her spend time with everyone without needing to think about conversation topics.

Sylvia hasn't felt much interest in anyone since her husband. Hell, even before him. She had been crushing on him since middle school, but they didn't get together until her senior year. (He was two years older.) She just... hasn't felt that way for anyone since him. And honestly? I don't even know if she wants to.

So, MC's parents met while their mother was still under the experimentation to try to militarize Alphas. Cyrus, their father, was a newer soldier, but was stationed to help keep an eye on how things were going. They had seen each other several times, but never spoke until while he was on a run, she caught up to him, and they really hit it off. And when the militarization efforts were shut down... he helped her escape. The Advocacy actually helped them get new names and identities so they could live peacefully... but things don't always turn out like you hope they will.

Thank you smsm!!! Hope you enjoy the answers <3 <3 <3

[jolene757]

The DND shows I am watching for ranting purposes

There needs to be a place where I haven them together with ✨descriptions✨ so that my friends can keep up with my insanity

So we will most importantly start with 🔈AUDIO🔈shows

Not another DND Podcast(aka NADDPOD): my joy, the reason I got into dnd, have kept up with all the main campaigns. I love everything about it and it's my favorite show and that will most likely not change because I hold it too dear.

The Wizard, The Witch and the Wild One: a show that I definitely did not deserve but so desperately needed. High magic, spirits behaving like fae, sound effect and descriptions that make me feel things. The cast .... the cast could not be more perfect for dramatic and epic lore shit.

Dungeons and Daddies: Chaos™️, admittedly not too much my cup of tea but it's good and I sometimes need some unstructured chaos.

Now on to the much shorter list of 📺Visual📺shows:

Mentopolis: Noir hits different, I am here for all the Fix facts and analogies.

Starstruct Odyssey: I love the cyberpunk theme and the fact that a planet's revolution is organized through reddit

... welp it's pretty much Dimension 20, and I am a loyal hoe

I recently got my subscription, I was going on spoilers so long, I have watched

Fantasy high: the classics

Unsleeping City: my personality for a while, I have suggested this to sooo many people

Crown of Candy: I have never been so mentally and emotionally invested to food politics but godamn it was a masterpiece

A Court of Fey and Flowers: I knew I liked fae shit but never hoped to find anything like this. The drama, the fits, that one specific love substory of which I need 3 seasons and a movie.

The bucket list is:

The Ravening War: I need more food people politics and religion

Neverafter: I am a devote of horror with too much anxiety to interact with horror but I will do so regardless

Misfits and Magic: Aabria is a godsend and I know I will love it

...To anyone that has any suggestions for me, feel free (I can't get into Critical Role no matter how much I try...so aside from it)

[binary5tar1117]

I hit a point on my smut fic where it isn't flowing anymore. But I'm far enough along I'm confident at some point I'll tell myself to just finish it and when I go back and reread it I'll be able to get into it enough to wrap it up

So I decided to move on to another idea I had. Which is like a dnd inspired fae au. Actually mostly inspired by a court of fae and flowers the dimension20 season. It's still the best season I've watched so far. It's more like half dnd fae half bidgerton.

Ive basically been living in this fic all weekend, like it's keeping me up at night but I almost don't care because I'm that into it. It keeps flowing really nicely without much planning and in a way that feels like a real story and not... just people fucking. Which dont get me wrong is fun. But a real story makes me feel like a better writer which is more satisfying.

I almost never finish these types of fics though so.... no one get excited.

Details and spoilers for a moral dilemma I have created for myself in the fic below the cut. I don't know how to warn exactly but minor tw "playing hard to get" mentality and the ickyness that can come from that.

I also had a really angsty thought last night that I think works really well but I don't know how to resolve it in a satisfying way. Or at least in a way I feel readers will find satisfying. Because there's a pretty clear red line crossed, people feel terrible and talk and forgive each other. Even though it's fantasy I think the situation is really realistic. But it's also a situation that the internet at least has little forgiveness for.

Wooyoung is a powerful sort of like demi God level fae. His "domain" is charm and attraction and he sort recharges his magic through physical touch. Not just sex but ya know that works too (though not actually any better than cuddling.)

San ends up making a warlock pact with him to save his sister. Wooyoung is very upfront about how his magic works and does not at all demand or expect sex or any sort of touching from San. But eventually they get to the point where they are comfortable enough for Wooyoung to be more clingy and flirty. And though another thing that happens, Wooyoung realizes San is very much attracted to him and pursues him. San as good as says he's just playing hard to get. Wooyoung really does nothing wrong.

But San is resisting more from emotional complications. I mean mortal and fae, patron and warlock plus Yeosang... it's complicated. Wooyoung maybe kinda gets this but it's never spelled out.

Anyway Wooyoung kinda corners San and with some magic sex pollen type shenannigans, San gets pushed past his comfort level. They don't have sex, it's just basically a really intense make out session.

But San in his kinda worked up state, accuses Wooyoung of assuming San was playing hard to get when he really wanted none of it. Saying hes been pushing him too much all along. Which is true again in an emotional sense but not in the physical.

But Wooyoung takes it in the physical sense which San intends at the moment. And he is understandably upset and apologetic. He tries very hard to recognize that his magic, the thing that makes him him, has the ability to make people very uncomfortable. He tries so very, very hard to be considerate and /good/ about it. (He's a good boy, the bestest alright?) And to find out he hurt/upset someone he cares about, even after trying so hard to be careful... it's understandably distressing for him.

When Yeosang hears about this, he tear's San a new one because he knows exactly what's going on. Two of the three idiots in love make up... mostly because San has some words for Yeosang during that convo too, so there's still that aspect.... and the story continues.

The problem is, while I think that it's obvious San was more in the wrong, people can be weird about that sort of fuzzy-ish consent. I shouldn't care but I do. I'll be so sad if people hate Wooyoung for it.

I am also struggling with how Wooyoung will ever be able to trust San again if he pulls this. It's such an important core belief type thing for him that having it disrespected and turned against him... there's really no way for San to make it up to him, right? Wooyoung just has to choose to forgive and trust him again. Which I don't think is bad necessarily. People fuck up, even this bad, and it's okay to forgive sometimes. But that's another thing the internet is pretty iffy on. One mistake on this level is tantamount to murder and unforgiveable. Which again I shouldn't care. I'm usually good at not caring, but I kinda do in this case.

And then I question... is it too ooc to have San do that? Which is maybe why i care about readers opinions so much.. because I'm unsure. I dunno I think I'll just have to get there and write it and see how it plays out.

[jq37]

Brennan said sibling rights and Aabria said sibling wrongs.

[monster4monster-bracket]

Propaganda under the cut

Captain K. P. Hob x Delloso de la Rue (Hobrue) - Dimension 20, season 15: A Court of Fey and Flowers

Starts out as a star-crossed, Beauty-and-the-Beast-style romance between a very animalistic, awkwardly formal, military man—well, goblin (Captain Hob) and a very elfen-esque Master of Ceremonies (Rue), who’s busy with the job of hosting the huge, politically important party they just put together, and is also technically a member of another royal court. SPOILERS: Turns out Rue is an owlbear under their glamour, aka just as massive and animalistic as Hob. Both of them really love the other’s body specifically because it looks like theirs rather than fitting in with the traditional fey standards of beauty, so they’re lowkey serving t4t-vibes, despite existing in a setting where there are zero social expectations around gender. Technically they’d be a monster x monster pairing no matter what, as they’re both fey, but the fact that they both stick out even among the extreme visual variety of the fey people, and very much feel the weight of that exclusion, really makes them a monster x monster pairing in spirit too.

SkekGra X UrGoh (GraGoh) - The Dark Crystal Age of Resistance

They literally are each other's halves. No really. They used to b a whole being named GraGoh and split as two separate beings and now want to be joined into one again. So in the meantime they live together like an old married couple. Bickering and trolling, taking drugs, with the same passion for theatre and puppetry, going against their species' philosophies to be joined again (SkekGra is the only Skeksis in the whole franchise to have redeemed himself and live like an UrRu alongside UrGoh and was banished for that, and said Urgoh does not exactly follows the Mystic way either). They even have a rock gollem son. They long for each other and seem to want to hug and their one goal is to essentially hug further forever

Almost a canon ship tbh, very cute

Hobrue art by @sileohsile

[thesentientmango]

So much fucking happened in that like 10 minute period first between Rue and Wuvvy then Hob and Rue

Like first Aabria tearing up will get me anytime, and Wuvvy leaving before anything else is said so rue can have their moment, can be happy.

And then Hobs' monologue to Rue was so powerful and to start that fucking power house with

"I take this moment then not to be certain, for I need you to hear this knowing that I am uncertain of the world that awaits me when I finish speaking."

That line gives me chills every time. It's such good writing to tying into the next section about honor and bravery and fear and cowardice.