#and it shows – in the way that he uses magic. Nyx is like a storm – like a hurricane

[idkjustletmescroll]

As a girl eagerly counting down the days until July 26th, I've made up a list of shit I want to see happen in season 6 of the dragon prince that I do in fact expect everyone to care about:

1: Janaya janaya janaya janaya I just love themmmm (buuuttt they both have to stay alive).

2: Speaking of janaya, i know there's a chance we get a wedding this season, which i wouldn't be opposed to. If we kept humans and elves as the main conflict like we did in the first three seasons, I'd say they should have it at the end of the show, but it feels more like aaravos vs the dragaang at this point, which...

3: More characters with more to do! In the first dragon prince, we had a bunch of minor characters (the other monarchs, prince kasef, opeli and corvus, nyx, ethari, a shit ton of soldiers, etc.), do things that affected our main characters in plenty of ways, which made it feel like there was a whole world out there being affected. Now, it's not that there are NO side characters affecting the main plot, it just feels so centered on the aaravos plot. I feel like they should have kept a bit more "elves and humans need to unite and move forward to defeat aaravos" but it's fine. I still like the show.

4: Rayllum making up. Not necessarily in a romantic relationship, though I would EAT THAT UP if it happened, but, if they haven't gotten back into their romantic relationship by the end of season 6, they should clearly be well on their way there, and we should know how they both feel about it.

5: De-coining. They've been trapped in there long enough.

6: I kind of want to see viren well and truly dead, just because of the downward SPIRAL it would send my girl claudia into. But I also feel like he has more to offer? I know we have a clip of him doing SOMETHING this season, but that could be a flashback. Idk. I feel like him voluntarily giving up power, and his own life, was a good ending for him, and the way claudia reacts in that first teaser we got definitely makes it seem like he's dead? But I also kind of want him to have a meaningful interaction with the other characters he's affected--rayla, callum, ezran, obviously; I kind of want to see what would happen if he realizes how far gone claudia is, joins the dragaang with the belief that he can save her from aaravos, and somehow meets janai? I feel like they've always had really strong writing for viren, though. So I'm trusting you, tdp writers.

7: Terry turn away from Claudia. This could turn into him trying to sabotage her, straight-up leaving, becoming a double agent, whatever. But he can only delude himself for so long.

8: I want the sunfire elf conflict to end and for them to help fight aaravos (he killed khessa and corrupted lux aurea, okay? They deserve to help beat him). I'd also be fine with them wrapping THAT conflict up somewhere around the middle of season 7, but I don't want them dragging it out all through to the end of it.

9: The key of aaravos should become more important. I get that it was essential to callum figuring out primal magic, but also, we've had it since s1 ep4, and it's still very distinctly in callum's possession. What else is up with this thing?

10: Janaya (again) being badass war generals. We all saw them in the first three seasons, right? Amaya was fully ready to kill a teenager (an elf, but still), in her first episode. And also kicked down a door and won my heart. She threw multiple elves into lava. Janai took over amaya's fortress thing and tried to kill her for a good bit of her screentime (I wish they would emphasize janai being strategic a little more. Like...she would've HAD that stronghold if that soldier didn't start using sign language). THEY led the defense of the storm spire!

11: ANDDD speaking of janaya, one last thing: I want the human soldiers respecting janai, and the sunfire elves recognizing Amaya as their queen. Even just a "your radianceS," plural, or something. She's going to be their queen--consort, i guess, technically, but still. I feel like we haven't gotten a big enough sense of that.

[starfall-spirit]

The Little Prima Donna

For @shallyne

Read on Ao3

One shot inspired by the art above of Feyre and her future daughter. Artist: rosebuds.arts on Instagram Commissioner: Shallyne

AN: This is a spot the easter egg (movie quote) fic. My only hint is to think about the art pose if you can't pick it up from the lines alone. Feyre's Court Discord is not allowed to spoil it.

Also, while my next-gen daughter is normally named Roxanna, this is a gift fic, so I will be using Shallyne's preferred name for her, Nemesis.

Reach out in the comments, reblogs, or my asks if you recognize the art pose or the movie I quote. Fic starts below the cut. ☺

It had been weeks since the skies of Velaris had been so sunny and clear. Summer storms had been constant this year and if rain wasn't pouring down then it was disgustingly humid outside. But just this morning the cloud coverage had finally broken, the sky opening to a beautiful blue as the sun's rays danced over the water and land that made their city. The moment Nyx and Nemesis had dressed themselves and cleaned their breakfast plates they had bolted from the table to play on the open front lawn. Feyre and Rhys had followed them out a moment later, Rhys with leisure reading for once and Feyre with her travel paints and a canvas.

She hadn't updated their family portrait since Nemesis was barely old enough to crawl. Here they were, already eight and five, tussling like a couple of wild animals half the time. What happened to the tenderness Nyx showed his infant sister once upon a time, Feyre didn't know. "Careful, running," she called setting her outdoor easel where she wanted it. Though the ground was mostly dry, her children were quite talented at finding whatever mud remained, taking a few nasty falls and ruining their clothes. Some mudstains of the past had been too severe for laundry soap or magic to get out. Those became their painting outfits on the days they joined Feyre in her studio. Rhys mumbled something from the chair beside her, a smirk on his lips even with his nose in his book. "What?"

"Eight years, Feyre. Clothes are replaceable and fae children are next to invincible."

He was assuming her reaction was still about some deep-rooted instincts about human weakness and poverty. Not so long ago he may have been right. And she still had moments she had to remind herself she could eat her fill or spend money more freely. But not this time. This time was the simple matter of their second child taking after Rhys and being a little prima donna. "You deal with the diva when Nyx kicks up mud on her dress then. She refused to let me pick out old play clothes this morning."

"It's her birthday. You like looking nice on your birthday, don't you?" Unfolding his glasses, he pointedly turned back to his book, long legs stretching out in front of him. She let her gaze linger on certain features on the way back up. The scrawl of ink marking their death bargain, the strong muscles there leading up the rest of his body, the last of his tattoos just peeking past his unbuttoned collar. Every inch of him had been well explored after a near decade together, and yet Feyre still never tired of the sight. "You're checking me out. Again."

"Seeing as you're still the most beautiful male I've ever met, it's a privilege I'll continue utilizing as your mate."

He hummed. "Even with my old man readers?"

"Especially with your old man readers." She leaned over to kiss him before turning her attention to her pallet so she could begin her underpainting.

He paused his reading for a moment, closing the book over his hand to mark his place. "Do you think they'll find this one day? A mate they'll truly love?" She furrowed her brow. They'd touched upon this discussion in ways, casually noting that both their children were bound to break hearts, but they hadn't gone to the depth of a healthy mating bond. Or an unhealthy one for that matter. "You and I have the best kind of bond. If we set that expectation... I don't want to see my parents' fate for anyone, especially not my children."

She took his hand. "Rhys, you're asking a pretty big question, regarding a pair of younglings." The look he gave her begged her to humor him. She sighed. "I don't know if they'll find a bond and be happy, or if they'll struggle, or if they'll be so hopelessly in love with someone else they never find their mate. What I do now is that major conflict is behind us now and we have all the time in the world to let them find out."

"I just—"

A shrill scream had them both standing, only to find Nemesis flying toward them. "Hey, hey, hey. What's going on?"

Just as Feyre had predicted this morning, her daughter's pink birthday dress was splattered with mud and grass from the hem up to half of the skirt, her carefully pinned hair and bow askew. "Mother, he pulled my hair and kicked mud up on me!"

"Well, she started it!" Nyx huffed, always quick to defend himself, whether he was in the right or wrong.

Nose scrunched and hands on her hips, Nemesis raised her chin, her posture nearly perfect. "Ladies do not start fights, but they can finish them," she said haughtily.

Rhys' hand flew up to his mouth, muffling a laugh no doubt. Don't you dare encourage that, Rhysand.

Me? Never, darling.

Both of you need to play kindly," he admonished. "Nyx, it's your job to set an example for your sister." A wave of his free hand and the fresh mud was gone, the birthday dress a pristine pink once again. "How's that, little star?"

"Better. Thank you, Daddy." Nyx crossed his arms, glaring daggers at his sister as she flounced over to Feyre. "Will you fix my hair again? Please?"

Feyre shook her head, eyeing the lopsided half-part and the pathetic bow attached. "Turn around." Retying the small ponytail and sliding the bow in place, Feyre leaned forward to kiss her daughter's cheek. "There you are, my love. Now, be nice to your brother. Nyx, you be nice too. I'm sure whatever happened was an accident. Both of you try to have fun with each other until your cousin comes over." They exchanged a look, and like every other disagreement, this one melted away, right back into a fresh game of tag. "That was your diva."

Rhys chuckled. "Of course, Feyre darling."

For a long while they sat in a content silence, Rhys reading, Feyre painting. "I don't think there’s anything to fear. I think we've both spent so long seeing the worst of the world the doubt always comes first. That may always be the case. But for them, I want to believe there's something—someone perfect for them and what they need—waiting to be found. Isn't that all we can do?"

"Someone waiting," he repeated. "I think you just might be onto something there."

~~~~~

Taglist:

@goddess-aelin // @acotar-fanns // @reverie-tales // @acourtofwips // @jealousveronya // @the-lost-changeling // @darling-archeron // @faeriequeensuriel // @gwynkyrie // @pandavelaris // @corcracrow // @s-uppertime // @elentiyawhitethorn

[tadpolesonalgae]

u continuously drop banger after banger what the hell tabbatha 😭

i need chapter 19, feyre's guilt for her sisters turning fae was PALPABLE at the end. for accidentally dragging an unstable reader into an environment that would eventually lead to her attempt. And then having her own chosen family react to her sister this way? Because Feyre has always been attuned to her survival instincts, so I'm waiting for the storm to finally break and for her specifically to lose it on them for making her relationship with reader harder than it needs to be right now after her attempt, (shes the only person the ic will listen to anyway 👀🥱)

Currently Mor is Reader's biggest antagonist (love u for this again xx), but the other members of the IC have or are likely to really freak her out as well. Feyre would realize this talking to nesta i think and likely have a "family meeting" where she tells them all to butt out unless her or one of the other sisters are present. I dont think this would be the best for reader but i imagine it being a very feyre thing to do in this situation, her caretaker instincts likely have been doubled (bc nyx is still toddlin around off page) so i imagine she lets some of the wolf show to get the point across that she's not gonna fuck around when it comes to her sisters (much to the IC's surprise given how nesta was treated) (i think part of it may also be because she doesnt trust them not to trigger reader into accidentally using her powers against them 👀)

I was thinking while rereading ab how the 3 sisters would finally talk about what reader did amongst themselves if they havent already. I know youd write it to the point ur readers collectively KOA cry again and i think thatd be fun 🤭 but i digress. i think they need to talk about it and how they think they should help reader, instincts vs logic vs intuition perhaps? Each of the sisters will have their own ways of trying to help her, but i think with emotions running so high (esp for feyre) that it would turn into a much needed Archeron cuddlepile.

and i just felt lucien needed to be involved 😭 it was time, i missed him. BUT TELL ME WHAT ERIS SAID 🫵

-🤠

‘And then having her own chosen family react to her sister this way?’

I still need to elaborate on this in chapter 19 but my mind just isn’t doing anything 🫠 I know I have to write a scene to make some other stuff work properly (I know, I’m so vague and helpful) but I can’t figure at what point it should be placed and also what and how it’s going to happen? Ugh, it’s giving me miseryyyy 🎵

‘I dont think this would be the best for reader but i imagine it being a very feyre thing to do in this situation, her caretaker instincts likely have been doubled (bc nyx is still toddlin around off page)’

Yeah I can see Feyre just wanting to set things right but I can also see some people in the IC wanting reader to step up for herself and so won’t do much to defend her so she has the chance to do it for herself?

Though I think it would depend on how Feyre snapped at the IC? If it was more lowkey and reader wasn’t there to witness it I think it would be fine, but if it was over a dinner or something I think reader would want to spontaneously disappear from existence and memory 😭

‘I know youd write it to the point ur readers collectively KOA cry again and i think thatd be fun’

Thank you for thinking this but the magic in my fingertips has actually gone, and I don’t know what happening 😭 nothing’s working at the moment so that won’t be happening unfortunately, or fortunately :/

‘and i just felt lucien needed to be involved 😭 it was time, i missed him.

Still vaguely freaked out you predicted Lucien’s presence 👀🪄

‘BUT TELL ME WHAT ERIS SAID 🫵’

Eris told Lucien that high-waisted riding trousers are going out of fashion and he can no longer wear his slutty thigh-high boots with heels on their base and pointy toes 😔

[kradogsrats]

My personal favorite is that Callum can just casually summon mage wings whenever...until Rayla shows back up and then he just kinda stops? Like, he just never flies again? Why? Does he feel embarrassed potentially showing her up by effortlessly travelling from Point A to B because that used to be her thing?

I mean, I'll leave the interpersonal dynamics of that to the rayllum folks since "why are these two kids so goddamn awkward around each other" is their catnip, but:

I'm trying to think of when flying would have been useful for Callum in s4 and generally coming up with places where someone needs to go from low to high (scouting above the treetops in the Drakewood, booping the out-of-reach resonating crystals, getting up to Rex Igneous's bathtub to yell at him). The times we've actually seen him use mage wings, he's been going high to low (Storm Spire) and roughly even-level (high mage's office to king's chambers balcony, and he does that by doing a swoop down to build the momentum). Both times, he has also believed it to be a life-or-death situation. WAIT no that's a lie, I forgot about the "I'm late to the party" incident. But that is another high to low flight!

Even Ibis, when he's using them, is either going from the Storm Spire pinnacle (where literally anywhere you want to get to will be downwards), or, as in his fight with Claudia, he has a running takeoff in which he also specifically gains height so he can swoop.

If I were super invested in explaining away underuse of mage wings (which I'm not, I'm just contrary), I would say that taking off from a low surface is exhausting and hovering is basically impossible. They did at least design the spell effect with a wingspan that isn't laughably small, but human(/elven) body density is still going to be much higher than a birds, and most people wouldn't have the upper body muscles to sustain much in the way of flapping.

Actual winged Skywing elves clearly have some... whole other thing going on. I don't feel like going back and combing over all the Nyx scenes to figure out what it is. Though part of it may be related to the whole upper body flapping muscles thing: unless you're doing a lot of lifting, most muscle strength in human bodies is concentrated in the lower torso core and legs... which is where Skywing elf wings attach.

Basically, it's not as useful of a spell as it initially might appear, particularly since it also puts your hands out of commission so you can't do more Sky magic to create winds to carry you. Callum might regularly fly down from the high mage's office to wherever he wants to go, but I'm betting he's gotta walk back up all those stairs like anyone else. So I think it's actually overused by the fandom, rather than underused in canon.

[charlottedabookworm]

Reveal AU for a Nyx as Regis’ son au that I’m considering actually writing, just playing around with it right now. This is pretty sad but *shrug* Inspired by @sparklecryptid ’s Royal Bastard AU – because Ace is awesome and it made me want to write my own royal bastard au and this is what I got. Also inspired by @luxroyalty and their Cor as Mors’ son thing that they posted recently. Tagging the usual enablers @hamelin-born @distressedherbalist ---- He doesn’t think before moving, he just does. Maybe, in another life, he wouldn’t have managed it. Maybe, in a world where he hesitated for even the barest of moments, it wouldn’t have worked. Maybe, before he hadn’t spent over a decade serving under the Lucian King, he would have stopped to think. Maybe, if Regis was just his King, if he wasn’t more than that, he wouldn’t have been so fierce about it – wouldn’t have had the tools to make it work. But this isn’t that other life, isn’t that other world, and Regis wasn’t just his King. But Nyx doesn’t hesitate, he doesn’t think. Once, he would have hesitated. He would have stopped to consider the scene – even for only the barest of moments. In any other situation, he still would have – because he was reckless, but it was always calculated recklessness, despite what everyone liked to believe. This time, however? This time it was just instinct. He sees Glauca attack, sees the way that Lord Amicitia is injured and down, sees the Ring of the Lucii fly through the air, sees the look that flickers across the Kings face alongside fresh blood, and Nyx is moving even before he can process the scene. Because he knew that look on Regis’ face. Could tell at a glance what the man was planning. Nyx couldn’t – wouldn’t – let that happen. Not to him. (He had always been thankful that he took after his mother – that he looked Galahdian, looked like an Ulric, despite not being full-blooded. He doesn’t look like his father, doesn’t look Lucian, unless someone was to know to look for it. His eyes are blue-grey enough to hide the slight flecks of green, his hair sun-bleached enough that it isn’t compared to Royal Black, his skin dark enough by Lucian standards that he looked like a foreigner. His tattoos and his braids and his resemblance to his mother protect him, keep everyone from realising that he and the King have the same jawline – that they stand at the same height and share the same nose. Nyx was very obviously Galahdian, and it helped keep the world from realising that he was also a Lucis Caelum) Nyx flickered across the room like lightning, snatching the ring from where it was tumbling in the air. In a single, smooth movement, he raised his kukri to block Glauca’s blow even as he shoved the ring onto his finger – ignoring the protest from the King that was bitten off as nothing happened to Nyx. All of those in the room who knew about the Ring froze, shocked that it hadn’t killed him, and Nyx used the moment of hesitation to shove a wave of magic out – tossing Glauca away from him and sending Lady Lunafreya, Lord Amicitia and the King towards the exit. Tilting his head over his shoulder, he locked eyes with the King. He could see the dawning realisation on the man’s face – the shock and the horror and the understanding – as he finally figured out what Nyx had never advertised. What he had never felt the need to advertise – because he had never needed a father, had never wanted to be royalty. But Nyx was a protector – was one of Ramuh’s Chosen – and he had followed his people to Insomnia, had joined the Glaive, to do just that. Even though it meant meeting the other side of his family. And, though he had grown fond of them over the years, he had never revealed who he was. (Not when it would cause a huge scandal, not when it would hurt both them and the Galahdians, not when he wasn’t certain that the man would accept him, not when he wasn’t worthy of it). Not until now. Standing there, crouched in a defensive stance with lightning dancing across his skin, Ring of the Lucii on his finger like it belonged there, armiger humming around him like a brewing storm, Nyx was very obviously his father’s son. The magic that stained his eyes a rich green, the same green inherited from the man in front of him, just confirmed it. Nyx smiled, bright and sad and cheeky, trying his best to ignore the heartbreak in the eyes of a man who he respected – in the eyes of the man who he wouldn’t have minded having as a father – as he waved a hand.   A shield sprung up, blocking Nyx and Glauca from the others and leaving their path clear. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. But your son needs you alive.” He said, turning back to Glauca and so missing the pure heartbreak that crossed Regis’ face for a moment. He didn’t bother to turn around again, knowing that doing so might as well be signing his death sentence, but he did manage to grit out a “Go!” between blocking blows. Old Man, Grandfather. I think I might need your help with this one. Nyx thought, even as he felt his father leave with the other two. He didn’t turn to watch. Nyx had a battle to win. Outside, the sky rumbled.

[sleepymccoy]

Magical lesbian Hallmark Christmas film

establishing scenes

Talia works for a town planning firm in the Big City and doesn't take holidays. Chooses to spend her Christmas time off going to a small town that won this years' best town design award. Scene with her two colleagues Sam (handlebar moustache, openly gay, clearly friends) and Winifred (her boss) ribbing her for taking her time off in such a shit way

A scene in Beautiful Small Town with four characters; Althena (short and plumb, beautiful, witch), Nyx (wears light dresses and leather jackets, glares a lot), Phil (Nyx's husband, super normal lumberjack), and Martha (old lady, looks like Mrs Claus). They're decorating the big tree in town centre. Some tension between Nyx and Martha, establish that Nyx will not allow harm to come to the tree (it is planted and alive). Phil keeps bringing eggnog. Althena is mostly cheerful and handing out food. People love her food

Talia arrives in town and is thrown by how Christmassy it is. Goes to the hotel run by Attractive Man Lucas. Insert scenes such as Talia reluctantly eating a slice of Christmas pudding with a coffee.

First arc (meeting and set dynamics)

Probably lighting the fairy lights on the big christmas tree on December 6. Althena offers Talia some gingerbread cookies but she says no, causes gossip. Nyx is pissed off, no one's sure why incl Phil. Lucas is quite attentive to Talia and tries to explain why it's rude to refuse gingerbread. Talia has a too-long scene with an old guy who refuses to break character out of being Santa, it's quite awkward. Everyone is shown cheering up when they eat the gingerbread cookies, like exaggeratedly smiling as they chew (this is witch magic, yall)

Nyx and Talia have a scene where they meet and we discover that Talia is a changeling child that replaced Nyx when they were toddlers. They don't get along, Nyx doesn't forgive her and implies she was in foster care for quite a while after Talia stole her family

Talia gets a tour of town with Lucas, they're getting along well. This scene shows Talia working and looking into the town layout and planing and so forth

Talia remeets Althena a few times and they find out things about each other. Althena has a reindeer (who's out on loan, implied her reindeer is one of Santa's real ones). Talia knows a lot about appropriate plumbing for pipes that need to freeze safely. Althena doesn't like wearing pants. Talia likes to hand weave baskets. Plenty of scenes that have borderline magic use from Althena. Clearly show more chemistry between Talia and Althena than between Talia and Lucas.

Relationship shifts

Talia gets caught in a snow storm and nearly freezes to death. Saved by Althena who is fairly unimpressed, but takes care of her. They spend two days together without power warming up by the fire unable to contact anyone. During this, Althena gives Talia a few foot massages to make sure she doesn't lose her toes (this is played with sexual tension) and Talia learns to make Althena's coffee perfectly (nutmeg included). Some nearly kissing scenes and real domestic bliss vibes. Scenes with Talia saying she's never been so relaxed and happy. Althena is shown often just watching Talia do something, big heart eyes.

During this time, Nyx arrives cos although she's pissed at Talia she's heard from Lucas that Talia's missing and is searching town to find her. She's checking with Althena cos Althena is a witch and can casts spells and shit. Althena is worried about what Talia will think of Nyx askign her - she doesn't want to admit to being a witch but there's not really any other reason for Nyx to have come here. Talia is trying to keep her changeling thing under wraps. Nyx is annoyed that Talia knows she was worried.

Miscommuniction

Althena returns Talia to the hotel once the snows stops. Lucas is very relieved and admits he called Talia's emergency contact, but in error he says "I called your boyfriend". Talia corrects him, but Althena has already heard boyfriend and left. Talia doesn't really clock this cos she's pretty tired

Her colleague Sam arrives, he's very pleased Talia isn't dead. He stays for a few days. He and Lucas have a very straight forward flirt into relationship dynamic in the background of scenes

Talia and Nyx meet up and Talia explains how her life has been - her parents always knew she wasn't their kid and once she turned 18 she left and they've never reached out. Nyx is kind but pretty closed off. Talia expresses a wish for family, but Nyx is already happy with her one with Phil and doesn't need her

Althena comes by and gives the hotel a Christmas cake. Talia is very happy to see her and offers to join her as she visits everyone in town to drop off cakes. Althena offers to let Talia stay behind and enjoy time with Sam while he's here, but Talia laughs it off (without explaining) and joins her. They have a lovely time but Althena is clearly pining while Talia is rather blithely enjoying a nearly-date. They talk about Sam for a bit, Talia says they know each other through work, and Althena prods no further. Nothing is cleared up. This scene offer the opportunity to return to any one off characters we've introduced and give them a bit more presence without making them main side characters

Scene where Sam needs to go back to the Big City, but he's got a crush on Lucas so he's talking to Talia about how to handle that. She makes a crack about having the same issue and Sam gets very curious and fully guesses correctly (they're not subtle) and makes a jokey suggestion about opening an office together out here

A scene where Talia goes for something quite romantic (maybe asks Althena on a date) and Althena rejects her totally cos she's now sure that it's her cheerful-making cooking that is making Talia like her. Cos good people don't cheat, her magic is making Talia want to cheat. Maybe she has a straight forward convo about this with Mrs-Claus-look-alike who's also a witch to make it canon. Cos Talia had like two days straight of eating Althena's food in the snow storm, so Althena is like. Worried shes accidentally roofied Talia.

The correction

Lucas talks to Nyx's husband Phil about his crush on Sam. This news gets to Nyx, who passes it onto Althena who is sure it's gotten mixed up cos Lucas surely would never homewreck. She decides to talk to Lucas about it directly and he corrects her misunderstanding

Althena is still very unsure about the whole thing. She's still feeling pretty bad about dosing Talia with happy-magic-food. It's just something she does during Christmas to keep the mood in town wonderful! This all was an accident. So she keeps her distance

The Christmas Miracle (dating)

Lucas and Sam make out pretty easily, it's very cute. Maybe they have a bit too much brandy and there's some awkward conversation about how Sam will be going back home, but they keep kissing and fade to black

I think Talia and Nyx have another chat where Nyx has calmed down and accepts Talia as a sister. They were both unwilling participants in the changeling swap and neither is happy with how it turned out for them. So they'll try to be sisters. They hug

Althena and Talia meet at the christmas eve whole town event. Althena is weirdly refusing to offer Talia any of her food. Talia finally takes her behind the tree to have a chat in private about what's going on. Althena dodges it and explains she thought Sam was her boyfriend. Talia corrects her as well, she's all relieved, but that's not the only issue as we know. Talia openly eats one of Althena's gingerbread cookies in front of her and Althena freaks out and smacks it out of her hands. Cue a fucked up admission of dosing the entire town with happy magic that would be incomprehensible if Talia didn't already believe in fairies and witches.

Talia finally gets a word in edgewise and says she's fairy-born and was swapped with Nyx as a child. Althena takes a moment and realises that means her magic wouldn't affect Talia. She's immune. Cue her getting halfway through sentences while Talia cheerfully agrees. "you mean when you asked me on a date you were-" "yes" "and when you went to kiss me, that was-" "yes!" "and the way you looked at me in the cabin was really-" "Yes!!!" They get kinda over excited and keep eagerly approaching each other and stepping away cos they're just so damn into each other now. Basically, they end up knocking the giant Christmas tree over and decorations go everywhere.

This could be a christmas disaster, but it's Hallmark so the tree lands safely and the decorations just fly off and sit like beautiful adornments on the townspeople instead. All tinsel necklaces and broken bits of large baubel as hats. It's cute, not terrifying. Nyx is seen with Phil inspecting the roots of the tree to see if it's still alive and okay (we'll say it is, it's in a giant pot and got knocked over in one piece i guess). Talia and Althena kiss admist pine needles. Sam and Lucas kiss. Phil returns with a crane (he's like this, maybe that's a running joke - Phil has anything you need) and picks the tree up, he and Nyx kiss.

Epilogue

New years day, Nyx is pregnant and Phil runs through town on foot telling everyone. We get little scenes of people being interrupted as he barges in and tells them.

He goes to a new office for the town planning whatever company Talia and Sam are from, Sam is setting up the office front while Lucas flirts with him.

Talia and Althena are interrupted while just absolutely making out. That's the final scene

[onceupona-chaos]

Feathers and dawn

Day 15 of Elriel month/ Explosion of power

The half-wraith gave her friend a feral grin, white teeth flashing against her dark skin, and said quietly in her midnight voice, “Stealthy as a doe.”

Elain matched Nuala’s smile, sending a thrill down Azriel’s spine. “Fierce as a wolf.”

Word count:  3838

Warnings: Language

Disclaimer: This was a huge challenge for me, because English isn't my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes. Part II is coming out on day 18 (I think). Be kind!

“ELAIN!”

Azriel was kneeling on the ground, panting through gritted teeth as he tried not to succumb to that invisible force covering him like a heavy blanket. Whatever spells and wards casted upon that place were draining his magic little by little as if he had been hit by several ash arrows - only ten times worse. 

Even with the cold rain soaking him, the raindrops like ice needles against his skin and wings, he managed to fix his eyes on the cave, scanning and scanning through the dark dots that were beginning to form, trying to see something, anything. 

But the cave was as dark as the sky above him. A never ending darkness that seemed to swallow any blue light from his almost drained Siphons.

His shadows detected nothing. Not a whisper, not a move, no sign of her. 

After Elain had disappeared inside the Cave and his shadows couldn't get a reading, he had immediately sent Nuala to get Rhysand whilst he tried to find a way in. But he couldn't pass the wards just like his shadows couldn't sense her.

When a female scream echoed from inside the cave, Azriel couldn't breathe, couldn't think. Pure, clear panic was all he knew.

When he had been summoned to the river house in the morning, not in his five hundred years he’d expected it to turn out like this. 

 Shit. Shit.

________________

Azriel hadn't been able to sleep for more than a few hours, and even so dreams and nightmares made him roll in his bed the entire time. He’d  been awake for hours, staring at the two Solstice gifts he’d got from her when dawn came. And with it, Rhys’ orders. 

He made a point not to arrive earlier than he needed, so he wouldn’t be - couldn't be -  in the same place as her longer than necessary. Keeping his distance when he wasn't at the river house was torture enough, but being in the same house and still feel as if they were at opposite edges of the same abyss…  

And yet when Azriel landed outside the river house, his shadows quickly whispered in his ear that Rhysand wasn't alone in his studio. 

The warning did nothing to stop his body from stiffen when he stepped through the door, the illusion of a meeting only between him and his brother quickly dissipating, and his eyes shot straight to the window - and there she was.

He didn't know if it was the lilac dress or the sunlight casting through the window, but her eyes were almost the color of pure honey. But something was off, her usually open expression was stark and hard, and then he noticed the pallidness on that beautiful face and the faint black bruises under her eyes. Even though he knew his face was the portrait of boredom, his shadows swarmed him, sensing his unease.

Azriel made his eyes move to where Amren was sitting crossed-legged, her petite body almost hidden beneath a white fur coat. Feyre cradling Nyx in her arms was sitting next to Rhysand, the baby soundly asleep, warm against his mother's chest. 

Azriel looked back to where Elain was, her shoulders tensing a bit as if she could sense his gaze on her even when she was peering through  the window, and he knew she was deliberately avoiding looking at him. It was only a stolen glimpse from his part - Azriel was well aware of Rhysand's violet eyes on him, almost daring him to disobey his orders. 

Azriel made the boiling rage cool down, kept his face carefully blank, his mask of cool boredom still in place whilst he faced his brother, lifting an eyebrow in question. 

Amren, on the other hand, didn’t bother to mask her impatience. “We’re waiting, Rhysand.”

The High Lord of The Night Court nodded to Elain, and Azriel felt his body stiffened once again. Rhysand announced, "It looks like we have another Made object to worry about.”

Silence.

Azriel’s blood went cold in his veins. He asked quietly, "How would you know?"

Elain didn't give many details. But she emphasized it was more of a sense than a normal vision, as if she could smell a storm coming but the skies remained clear. As if she could hear an ancient whisper in the wind. She wasn't sure what it was until last night - when  something long forgotten had presented itself in a dream. Azriel was well aware of what kind of objects could call for someone like that.

“What is this object?” Feyre asked.

Elain replied, “I… I can’t See what it is.” Azriel tracked the way she swallowed. “It’s veiled in shadows. Hidden among the silence itself."

Nodding more to herself, Amren said, "Whatever this is, it wants to be found at last.” She narrowed her eyes at Elain’s direction. "It's calling for you, girl."

Azriel's shadows gathered even closer, sensing his concern. He remembered of Oorid, how Nesta’s body shook after she retrieved The Mask. For Elain to be exposed to the same danger…

And yet, he couldn’t - wouldn’t interfere. He knew how much each choice Elain got to make was precious to her. She’d told him that herself on one of those nights in front of the fireplace. Her eyes had been filled with a mix of sadness and hope as if she still could feel her own choices slipping through her fingers as if they were grains of sand. 

He had only stared at her back then, imagining how it had been like for her going into the Cauldron - and then spending months trapped in her own visions to the point she couldn't tell dreams and reality apart. So he'd kept silent, let his understanding rise to the surface so she could see it and watched as her body relaxed under his gaze.

So different from now when she looked in every direction except his as she watched the harsh argument, Amren insisting vigorously that Elain should go look for the object. 

That explained why Nesta wasn't there, why Rhysand hadn't asked him to fly her down.

Whilst Cassian was in Illyria for an inspection of the aerial legions, the priestesses had recently received another female. Nesta didn't so much hesitate in wanting to help her the way she could and have been spending more time than usual at the library. But not to tell her, to keep this away from her… 

"Does Nesta know about this?", Azriel cut in.

"She would take this task for herself." Rhysand didn't even bother to look guilty. "And if it's calling for Elain, we can't risk sending anyone else, even if she chooses not to go. It could end very badly."  

"Maybe Nesta would be right to hesitate to send Elain,"  Azriel argued back, violet eyes narrowing. "Either way, that doesn't justify not telling her."

Feyre was glaring at her mate, undoubtedly saying something in his head, as if they had that discussion before. Many times. 

But before she could say anything out loud, Amren cut in, "It's not calling for Nesta, boy."

Azriel's voice was cold as ice. "Do not forget that we already kept information from her before." 

Amren didn’t even have time to open her mouth - to disagree or snarl, Azriel didn't know - before Elain stood up from her seat at the window, "That’s enough."

They all twisted toward her, brows raised. The only sound in the room now was the soft rustle of Nyx delicate wings.

Elain looked at Rhys, eyes sharp but voice even. "You of all people should know what it is like to want to protect those who you love and that is no excuse for keeping things from Nesta." Sadness coated her expression. “Not again, Rhys.” 

This time, Rhys had the decency to look at least guilty. Ferey intervened, "I'll tell her this afternoon. I want Cassian there, too."

Elain nodded. "I'm not a child for anyone to decide for me. If it's calling for me, I won’t run away.” She said squaring her shoulders, never looking away from her older sister, who was just about to say something. "And I am not asking for permission." 

And her posture, her words, her tone were so fierce, those large caramel-brown eyes flickering while she studied them all and Azriel knew that she’d do whatever was necessary to help this court. 

A  reminder that the Archeron sisters were forged by the same fire.

Azriel's chest ached with pride - and terror. Terror for her. But he pushed aside those instincts that were screaming to keep her safe, to not let her near any danger, and asked at last, "Then how do we find it?"

_________________

In a matter of minutes, Elain was sitting before a map, her eyes shifting beneath her lids as if she could See the entire world. Everyone was watching her as she searched for the right place, the one that appeared in her dreams - so Azriel used the moment to admire her.

Beautiful. She was so beautiful, he could admire her for the rest of his days in the same way he looked at the rising sun.

Elain’s hand hovered over that map, the creamy, soft skin marked by small scars, her delicate fingers were calloused, no doubt from her gardening. She cocked her head, as if listening to those whispering to find the right path. Azriel could’ve sworn the room was getting warmer.

She let a finger down and opened her eyes. For a second it looked like a faint golden glow shone behind the familiar brown, just like one could see the faelights behind a piece of glass, but then Elain blinked a few times -  and it faded away.

 "Here," she said.

Feyre sighted deeply as she cupped Nyx’s head as if she could protect him from her very words. "Of course it's in the Middle."

______________________

Nuala didn't ask any questions. She'd only showed up in the afternoon as they had agreed, passing right through the wall. Elain appeared a second later, opening the door and almost scrambling Azriel's brain cells to the point of uselessness. 

Her hair was braided behind her head, a blue surcoat, similar to the one she wore in the war, reached the middle of her thighs. It wasn’t Illyrian leathers, but the slits in the lower part of the surcoat  combined with her leather pants did absolutely nothing to hide her curves and the color made her skin look almost golden.

His shadows brightened as if to let him see all of her more clearly. He knew he was staring, that he should say something about them going somewhere, but he couldn't even remember his words. When Feyre had suggested he accompany Elain, he’d made his best to not look at Rhys, to just naturally nod in agreement. 

Rhysand wouldn't say a word about Solstice. Not in front of Feyre, that is.

But that didn't stop his High Lord to make Nuala play chaperone with a bullshit excuse that her gifts might end up being useful in the place they were heading to and her friendship with Elain could help. 

The message was crystal clear.

Azriel's eyes dropped without his acknowledgement to her lips, those sweet lips he had been so close to taste. He heard someone coughing, but his mind didn’t register the sound.

When he finally realized he was staring, he quickly snapped his eyes to hold her gaze. Despite the faint pink coloring her cheeks, a flicker of amusement sparkled in Elain’s expression.

Behind him, someone cleared their throat. 

Azriel ignored the smirk curving Feyre’s lips just like he ignored Nuala’s amusement, trying his best to contain the heat spreading across his cheeks at the thought of them watching the staring contest between the two of them.

Finally Nuala decided to put him out of his misery and asked, "Shall we?".

________________

By the time the swirl of shadows disappeared, Azriel was half distracted by the feeling of Elain's small hand in his. But the moment Azriel was able to have a good look at the place before them, he felt the hair on his arms rose. 

A deep forest was revealed, huge, gigantic trees side by side, making him feel the same size as Amren. Nuala let go of his other hand and almost unconsciously he tightened his grip on Elain's as she looked wild-eyed at the view before them.

As if one could call it that.

Where the forest should be rejoicing with life, there was none. Not a single leaf remained in those trees, the naked branches curling above the small, meandering trail like black claws. There wasn't a single animal or insect anywhere beneath the dark gray sky, making the atmosphere grievously melancholic. 

No light, no life. A place of utter sadness, as silent as Death.

"I've seen worse." Nuala's midnight voice was almost a whisper, but still reverberated like a thunder in that deadly silence, her attempt of being playful covered by the tenseness in her tone.

Azriel studied Elain, who swallowed before saying, "Me too." Her face was cautious, tight. She cocked her head as if heading some inner voice.

He asked, "Can you See where it is?"

She gently let go of his hand, blushing a little as if she had just realized they were still touching. "No, not See it" She said, scanning the forest. "But I can hear it."

"The shadows don't hear anything," Nuala said, moving to be at Elain’s side. “Do you remember what we discussed?”

Elain nodded.

“Once we enter the forest, watch your steps and try to walk toe to heels most of the time. Listen carefully to our breathing,” Nuala said, gesturing to her and then Azriel, who was watching the scene with raised brows. “And match yours with it always. Be as quiet as you can.” 

To his surprise, Elain just lifted a brow at the command in Nuala’s tone, who gave her a Look. “I’m serious, if you can help it, do not make a sound in this place.” The half-wraith gave her friend a feral grin, white teeths flashing against her dark skin and said quietly in her midnight voice, “Stealthy as a doe.”

Elain matched Nuala’s smile, sending a thrill down Azriel’s spine. “Fierce as a wolf.”

And then they walk right into The Silent Forest, living an almost dumbfounded Azriel behind.

_________________

They had been walking for what it felt like hours now. 

Even with his five hundred years worth of daily training, Azriel could feel his strength being drained slowly as if a heavy hand was pushing them back. With every step he took, it was like the forest itself, every single inch of that damn forest, didn’t want them there.

He kept his wings tucked in tight while eyeing their surroundings, once or twice he saw what seemed a glimpse of eyes watching them. The children of The Silent Forest. He could only pray for them to get the hell out of that place before sunset. 

Nuala seemed just as uncomfortable. Shadows gathered around her like a veil of darkness as if they could shield her from that invisible force, even though she was holding Elain’s hand now. 

Elain, who did not balk. She just kept walking, stopping sometimes along the way, her head cocked as if she could hear an inner voice luring her into the right direction until, at some point, Elain left the small forest trail to venture in an invisible path between the trees. 

More than once Nuala looked at Elain and smirked, causing a blush to spread across Elain’s pale cheeks.  

Despite the circumstances why Nuala was there, Azriel was grateful for the female attempts to distract Elain from her visible, growing tension. So he kept a few steps behind, offering the two females some privacy.  And when the temptation of using his shadows to know the cause of that blush crossed his mind, which was every five minutes, he pushed it aside and tried to focus on the surroundings or on the infinity, dark sky above them. With the sun almost down, the charged clouds waltzing through it in a promise of desolation.

They kept walking against that invisible force, almost unbearable now until… there. Azriel stiffened.

Deep in the forest, where the darkness seemed to unfold out of it, the entrance into a cave opened as if it was a path to another world, one made of Darkness and nothing more.  

Azriel’s shadows whispered to not go further. 

Nuala seemed to sense the same thing. "It feels… so wrong.” Her voice was quiet, but it seemed to be swallowed by the cave as if it was greedy to devour any sound, any light. 

“Strange,” Elain whispered back, brows furrowing. “It doesn’t feel like that to me.”

Azriel looked once again at the sky. They didn’t have much more time before night - and the beasts - came. He was almost suggesting to turn around, maybe they could convince Rhysand to come along. 

"I’ll be right back."

It took a moment to her words sink in, to Azriel make sense of what had just come out of Elain’s mouth. Elain, who was already moving. Elain, who was already walking towards the cave, getting closer with each step. 

Azriel moved out of sheer instinct, rushing forward to grab her hand, but again that damn force was pushing him back now. He flared his wings, trying to find some balance to keep going. "Elain," he snarled. 

She paused right before the entrance and looked back at him,  "I can hear its calling, it won't hurt me.”

Azriel was breathing hard, so lost on his mind that he didn’t realize the rain soaking him. He didn't like that one bit. He wanted to reach her, put his arms around her and shot to the skies. But he only unsheathed Truth-Teller and offered it to her. Elain bit her lip and walked back.  

He pressed his dagger to her hands, their eyes meeting - just like he had done once. Elain didn't hesitate this time. “Just…” He took his hand, trying to find the words. And there were so many words. “Come back," he said at last. A request and a prayer.

Elain squeezed his fingers and looked at Nuala before turning around. Azriel tracked every breath, every movement she made. His shadows speared toward the cave, watching over Elain, until darkness swallowed her. 

He was still monitoring her through his shadows, Nuala by his side. None of them dared to speak - not that he wanted to. Nuala worked as his spy long enough to know he kept to himself. His shadows were still curling around his neck to whisper in his ear.

Then, they became silent. As silent as they could be as they lost Elain’s track.

The screams came not long after she disappeared. 

______________________

"ELAIN!"

The female scream was still echoing in Azriel’s ears, his own panic was a fog he couldn't see through. He tried to use his Shiphons, but whatever twisted magic ruling that place, it could not be affected. 

And Elain was there somewhere. 

So Azriel lunged forward  - to be pushed back by that invisible form. He felt a tentacle of darkness grab him, sinking its talons deep in his very bones, sucking on his killing power.

He turned to Nuala, who was trying to summon her own shadows, to see beyond the darkness. “Go back, right now and bring Rhysand.” Her face drained of color. “Now, Nuala.”

“I won’t leave her.”

“That’s an order," he snarled.  

She looked back at the cave, before assuming her shadowy form and ran back, passing directly through the trees in her way. 

Fuck. Seven Shiphons never felt so powerless. He could only imagine what the hell was happening, ancient spells and wards, casted by god knows what kind of creatures and now Elain - Elain - was there and -

Think. He needed to try to calm the hell down and think. He was always planning, always calculating, that was his fucking job.

But he couldn’t think. Those talons thigned, more and more. He felt his magic leaving him slowly.

And then everything stopped.

When he  looked through the raindrops once more to the cave, - 

Elain’s head broke the darkness first. A solemn expression printed on her beautiful face and her eyes... they glowed. Nothing like Nesta’s silver fire, nothing like Amren’s once were, but gone was the familiar chocolate brown that Azriel had lost himself in it more times he could count, replaced by a light of white and golden. As if the sun itself was behind her skull and, just like that, the air in the forest grew hotter, wave after wave of heat crashing through him, his own strength being restored. He was only half-conscious about the dark forms of beasts older than Darkness who lived there in absolute silence, that now ran from that promise of light.

And in her hands… a small golden orb.

Any trace of that unholy darkness was gone as Elain stepped closer and on her back... the hair on Azriel arms rose, pure awe ran though his body. A pair of beautiful, strong, powerful wings, covered in feathers, each one white as snow, gleaming and glowing as if they have been sewed with golden thread, perfectly matching her otherworldly eyes. They seemed impermeable despite the water running down, like they were covered by a protection layer where drops glittered under starlight, similar to pearls. 

Azriel only stood there, drinking her image and memorizing it as she walked toward him. For she was something from dreams, from tales as old as the forest around them. 

Sweat began to run down his back, between his wings, in great rivers and in that moment she was the sun itself. Her face was sheer power, so luminous that radiated from her, warming the world, and he knew that despite the heavenly glow, she could release hell upon them all with nothing but a blink - no kindness, no mercy whatsoever.

Despite the heat, he did not flinch, did not so much as move. This was different from the fire that gave him his scars, a constant reminder of hate and fear. Whatever that fire was made of, this was something else entirely. 

It was the warmth of firelights on Solstice nights with his family, of spring days when he would sunny his wings. The warmth of Nyx’s laughter, of Elain’s smile. He wanted her closer, wanted to slide his arms around her and let her light cast through him until the darkness of his very soul faded away. For she was light, always have been. And for someone who is lost in the dark, light is salvation. 

Slowly Elain stepped out of the cave. The moment she crossed the dorway, after a few steps, that light dimmed, her wings dropped as if she couldn't sustain its weight any longer. Azriel saw when her hands tightened around the orb, bringing it to her chest. She blinked and every trace of light disappeared, her beautiful face was now mortal - and pale. 

Caramel-brown eyes met hazel ones before rolling back into her head. Azriel only had time to catch Elain in his arms before she could collapse on hard rock.   

[pulchinelle]

🔮🖤❄🕯🔮🖤❄🕯🔮🖤❄🕯🔮🖤❄🕯🔮🖤❄🕯🔮🖤❄🕯🔮🖤❄🕯🔮🖤

╰┈➤✎˚₊· ͟͟͞͞𝘽𝙄𝙊𝙇𝙊𝙂𝙄𝘾𝘼𝙇 𝙄𝙉𝙁𝙊𝙍𝙈𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉

𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄: Morgana Caccia

𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌: Ogron (Winx Club Season 4)

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒: Mor, Morris,

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 + 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒: female, she/her

𝐀𝐆𝐄: ???

𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘: 28th of January

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍: Capricorn

𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑: Vermillion red with hints of cognac brown

𝐄𝐘𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐑: lime green and turquoise

𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: 190 cm

𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃: Land of Nyx

𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘: Bisexual

𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘:

-unnamed mentor

-Morphis Caccia (adopted sister,18)

┎┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┒

╰┈➤✎˚₊·𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘: She comes from a small village in the Land of Nyx . The people living there were known to be skillfull mages and witches , and a great source of their power came from dark/black magic. Centuries ago they also used fairy magic to keep a balance, but this angered the fairies living there and caused a very gruesome war . Although the war is over, the two sides cannot help but feel a visceral hate for each other.

Morgana was one of the few that was able to gain something from the war. She hunted down fairies and took their wings, which gave her more power for each time she took one. After peace was found, Morgana found it useless to stay in that small, confined village and instead enrolled in WHA to put her abilities to good use.

╰┈➤✎˚₊·𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘:

She is a very calm individual, can keep calm even in the most desperate situations and is very cunning and manipulative. She likes to show off her powers and abilities, even if it means someone gets hurt by her spells. She does things her way and her way only and does not like losing,and always befriends people who can be useful to her in some way.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┚

╰┈➤✎˚₊· ͟͟͞͞𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙁𝙀𝙎𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉𝘼𝙇 𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙏𝙐𝙎

𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: HSA

𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: Student

𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐌: Magixella ( @fumikomiyasaki )

𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐄: 4th year

𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓: Ancient Curses

𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐁: ///

 

╰┈➤✎˚₊· ͟͟͞͞𝙀𝙓𝙏𝙍𝘼

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒: Storms, teasing others, learning new spells

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒: holidays, animals

𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃: Right 

𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐃: Dark chocolate

𝐇𝐎𝐁����𝐈𝐄𝐒: Reading

𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒: Keeping her cool in dangerous situations

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀:

🔮She is the lead of a group of people who like to use more dangerous forms of magic, their group name is Wixerhunt.

🔮 Each member of Wixerhunt has put his magic into a black ring as a sign of loyalty, rumored to be the same used by the ancient fairy hunters. This means if one of them betrays or leaves the group they'll lose their magic.

🔮Morgana's UM is "Niente Fede" She can use it to turn their opponent's magic against themselves. Simple but effective

🔮She is named after Morgana Le Faye

🔮Her dislike for most animals comes from her sister.

🔮Her mentor disappeared a long time ago, he was a very powerful magician, as cold hearted and fierce as Morgana.

🔮🖤❄🕯🔮🖤❄🕯🔮🖤❄🕯🔮🖤❄🕯🔮🖤❄🕯🔮🖤❄🕯🔮🖤❄🕯🔮🖤

╰┈➤✎˚₊· ͟͟͞͞𝘽𝙄𝙊𝙇𝙊𝙂𝙄𝘾𝘼𝙇 𝙄𝙉𝙁𝙊𝙍𝙈𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉

𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄: Morphis Caccia

𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌: Duman (Winx club season 4)

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒: Mori, Sorellina (Morgana)

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 + 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒: Demigirl, she/they

𝐀𝐆𝐄: 100

𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘: 23rd of May

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍: Taurus

𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑: Flamingo pink

𝐄𝐘𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐑: Cherry pink/Rose pink

𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: 156 cm

𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃: Land of Nyx

𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘:  Aroace

𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘:

-Morgana Caccia (Adoptive sister, 136)

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╰┈➤✎˚₊·𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘: Morphis is a half fae that was adopted by Morgana Caccia. She was born after the war between the Fairies of Nyx and the magicians. Starngely enough, she was welcomed with open arms by Morgana. Before being adopted, she was found alone wondering around the land.

╰┈➤✎˚₊·𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘:

Unlike her sister, Morphis is a very upbeat gal! She may play rough, really rough, but she means well!... at least that is what other students assume. She likes to tease others and pranks them. She is more approachable than her sister, but she is very easy to anger and tends to hold grudges.

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╰┈➤✎˚₊· ͟͟͞͞𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙁𝙀𝙎𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉𝘼𝙇 𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙏𝙐𝙎

𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: HSA

𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: student

𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐌: Magixella ( @fumikomiyasaki )

𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐄: 3rd year

𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓: Animal Languages

𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐁: Track n Field Club

 

╰┈➤✎˚₊· ͟͟͞͞𝙀𝙓𝙏𝙍𝘼

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒: Jogging, pranking others, climbing

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒: Flashing lights, being cold, willow trees

𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃: Ambidextrous

𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐃: Miso and Umeboshi

𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒: Taking care of animals she finds

𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒: Transfromation magic

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀:

✩‧₊˚ She is part of the Wixerhunt along with Morgana

✩‧₊˚Morphis is the reason Morgana hates most animals. They tend to take in every animal they find

✩‧₊˚Morphis' UM is called "doppelganger" and it allows her to tale the shale of anything and anyone she wants.

✩‧₊˚They have fairy wings, although they are very shy and don't like to show them off

🔮🖤❄🕯🔮🖤❄🕯🔮🖤❄🕯🔮🖤❄🕯🔮🖤❄🕯🔮🖤❄🕯🔮🖤❄🕯🔮🖤

[writeblrfantasy]

descriptions of the acogs crew

in a bout of inspiration and procrastination last night, i wrote descriptions of the five acogs characters in a style that speaks to my heart. these were SO fun to write omg

nikolai:

Skin pale like desert sand, hair black as the night, eyes blue as the Pelia, flowing robes that melt into the shadows with only hints of Urkonic plum to bring them out. Nikolai has been the subject of many paintings, many more poems, even more various works of art.

He has risen from nothing, as they all do, to luxury and power, bringing with him an unconscious air of the inexplicable magic that stems from the Staarenclock. From the cerulean diadem that drips from his hair while he sprawls on his throne, to the shining black paint on his fingernails, to the jewelry that rests on his neck, he attracts, he seduces, disappoints.

He’s never tried, and until he was queen, he never noticed. When he did, it became a tool to sate his momentary desires, a temporary fix for his long term ache, a way of fooling people. No one believes a pretty queen is capable of anything.

Good.

saige:

Make no mistake: Saige Heket is a king from head to toe, from morning to night, from dreams to waking hours to the nightmares of her enemies. Bushy brown hair is a statement, brown skin is covered in scars that prove her battle prowess, brown eyes can harden with hate as quickly as they can soften with love.

Impeccably pressed and cleaned trousers and jackets show dignity, a polished sword and a clean scabbard going into battle show diligence. She is no ratty, uncoordinated soldier. After winning in a ring against eight other children, she started a war with purpose, with a fire burning in her heart, and she has never backed down from a fight.

Crossbow comes easily to her as sword, which comes easily as breathing, which comes easily as checking over her shoulder. Saige Heket is a fierce, endless fire of emotion—rage or compassion or resentment, she stokes the hearth of her heart with her sword.

asma:

Asma al-Baz brings gold to mind. The golden pin on her green headscarf is her crown, golden brown skin remains unbroken, carefully protected and hidden under silk sleeves. Light brown eyes contain flecks of gold, reflect the gold she craves.

She does not need height or tall shoes to make up for it when she can freeze a man in his tracks with just a look, do whatever she likes with him at a word. The only one she serves is her god, but she has promised she’ll serve her people with the gold they give her. She’ll build them new cities and archways and monuments mimicking the ones from golden centuries before, she says, she’ll use flecks of gold in the paintings she plans to hang in the buildings.

Asma is a statue herself, made of gold, unreal, above humanity and her people. But gold is soft, no matter how cold, and eventually it will melt.

kayani:

The king of Tel Cairis hides themself in many ways, but opens small windows for those willing to squint. A metal on their green jacket one day, a ribbon the next, showing their accomplishments and earnings. Not to brag, not to establish their right to be king, just for self-assurance. A well needed boost.

They don’t care about fixing their dark hair, forever in a state of disarray, usually a sign of a sleepless night’s work. Clothes in Cairic tan and green and brown are worn for practicality, not style. Eight months of the year, when Kayani is away gathering resources for their people to survive, each jacket and pair of trousers is the same.

Their boots are forever coated with desert dust. Light brown skin scars badly on the inevitable slips or training cuts, but warm eyes like the coffee they love offer kindness to anyone seeking it.

katya:

Katya Rodi Vassil has always been taught not to command a room, so she did the opposite. When she walks into the sunken in gambling dens of dim light and darker characters, flowing orange hair like a river of fire, eyes cold and sharp like dying grass, and wire spectacles that could cut can do nothing but command a room.

No smile crosses her face when she sits down at the card tables, white folds strung over her shoulder and settling around her like the aftermath of a great storm. Plain, trimmed nails on fingers harsh and white pick up purple cards, her weapon of choice.

The eldest daughter of Actium doesn’t need to open her mouth to draw every eye, to receive breathless anticipation as she lays down card after card. A glimpse of a pale heel locked into a tan sandal strap is all you will see when she leaves to collect her payment, dragging the bright spotlight of the world with her.

Not yet a queen, a king, only a princess, but already bigger than all of them.

acogs taglist (lmk to be added/removed) @magic-is-something-we-create @inkflight @spencer-nyx @writing-is-a-martial-art @ashen-crest @wisteria-eventide @nikkywrites @denkis-phone-charger @myhusbandsasemni @lynolord @ettawritesnstudies

[swarmkeepers]

tâm, in the after (wandering isles epilogue thoughts, to say goodbye for real)

the tl;dr: tâm stays on the delrose. ari stays too, for years of travel and study, before  finding their footing on an island to grow on their own. xarus leaves shortly after the fall of castellane to open his dancing hall on solid ground, and before they go he trains tâm to take over their position as quartermaster. lian teleports back on board for weekends playing go fish. but tâm will spend the rest of her life on its decks with thalia and eris and vesper and a family bigger than she ever thought possible.

it’s hard to tell if tâm got a little taller (even at 19) or if she just stands a little straighter. either way, she’s not making herself look small. she’s gotten her legs on the cloudsea and stands a little steadier; her eyes aren’t darting around all the time so much as scanning a familiar horizon.

smiles so much more, is so much more tactile—leaning her head in towards lian or eris or ari or nyx’s to hear what they’re saying, laughing at thalia and eris bickering on deck, looping her arm around someone else’s as they walk, bodily scooping up some of the delrose’s younger crew and slinging them over her shoulder like a sack of flour as they shriek with laughter. she's learned she's allowed to love her family like this; she's learned it's enough (it's everything, really)

tâm isn’t really a letter writing person (she’s not even really a words person), but “i. uh. please can you help” comes easily, if nothing else does. she sends some of the first letters of her life to xarus and is both surprised and delighted when they write back, lots. there’s quartermaster advice and life advice and mutual commiseration over paperwork when all your cargo is illegal and the WORSE paperwork when your pirate ship is starting to become less illegal in the pillaging-for-profit sense but still illegal in the mutual-aid-via-piracy sense. eventually tâm will ask xarus to tell the story of how he became quartermaster with a genuine curiosity, and maybe xarus will tell her

in the process of managing the continual chaos that is the delrose’s inventory as quartermaster, she gets herself a bag of holding and, among other things, keeps her pike in it. it’s always near at hand, still, but she’s not towered over by her own ten foot weapon all the time. also, she thinks it’s funny to surprise the new crewmates the first time they see her pull a ten foot long weapon, magical aura and all, like scarves out of a hat out of the bag that usually holds paperwork and snacks

she mostly uses her bag for snacks, makes herself the first person to greet new crew, size them up for clean clothes, and ask them their favorite food. she grew up hungry, and no one on this boat is going to do the same—for tâm, this is what makes working as quartermaster worth it far more than the raiding parties or the paperwork. when eris shows the younger crewmates and kids the delrose takes in up to the teen zone, tâm usually won’t be there to greet them (she’s still. not the best with new people) but their favorite snacks will be.

“well, thalia gave me this crisp $20 bill” was dead serious but especially now that thalia is her first mate and not her captain Going Thru Some Shit i think. that she and tâm both learn to laugh more, figure out they share the same kind of sense of humor. tâm will continue finding thalia and vesper being extremely cute on deck and/or conducting captain business without thalia ever leaving vesper’s lap and fake-roll her eyes for months once she feels comfortable enough to get away with it.

she still loses game after game of go fish to lian. eventually she’ll win one. i don’t think they bet anything, but these two thieves might make a variant game out of both playing go fish and trying to pickpocket the other at the same time. winning is based both on who won the game of go fish and who got the most stuff.

when nyx steps off the delrose with intent to leave, and eris is standing on deck unsure how much space to give her, tâm will find a deck of cards and then go find eris and ask if eris wants to be distracted by winning game after game of go fish.

the teen zone grows. the teen zone is enabled by the fact that technically tâm does the budgeting on board. things tâm and eris consider adding to the teen zone: more blankets, cannons so eris can be the ship’s gunner, better wine than that blueberry stuff they keep on board for pirate ceremonies, extra snacks

with incredible confusion, for the five long years that eris and tyche are being incredibly homoerotic rivals: “i don’t do romance but i thought YOU do romance so. uh. ARE you trying to do romance right now?”

(by the time tyche joins the crew, there have been a lot more crew coming and going on board the delrose, but. tâm is reminded of something specific when there’s now a rogue/cleric bickering stubbornly with eris on board again, different person notwithstanding. she’s absolutely NOT telling either ari or eris about the similarity.)

tâm grows up. ari grows up. there are things that are undefinable but there is family, and there is love, and that’s never been the hard part between them

there are also care packages, and most of them have bread. tâm learns she likes exploring new cities as the delrose crisscrosses the isles and tries to send ari some new kind of bread every time she finds it in a new marketplace. sometimes, if they have time, she’ll teleport right to their apartment from the bakery to give it to them still warm

eventually the delrose comes back from a long trip through the outer isles and docks in geline for a long stretch of time. tâm wanders the capital’s streets and realizes she’s unsteady. under constance’s new government the city is developing in a new way that she doesn’t intuitively know like she knows the back of her hand (she no longer knows these streets, and she no longer knows blood and hunger here either). she balances now like she’s ready for the deck of the ship to toss in the wind, not like she’s ready to sprint across rooftops on the run. it feels weird. it feels like growing pains. it feels good.

at ari and nyx’s wedding: your vows were very nice, tâm tells ari seriously, slinging an arm around their shoulders to wrinkle their clothes but also to let them preen a little about what they wrote. she hugs them so, so tight and says, i’m SO proud of you for saying them

a few weeks after ari and nyx get married, tâm will look at eris for a long time while they’re both working on the rigging and tip her head to the side and ask, very confused, “are we. siblings?” (the consensus is not siblings, but yes family. it doesn’t make sense. that’s fine)

sometimes you grow closer to people when you’re not living out of each other’s pockets all the time, and that’s tâm with much of the crew that killed prynne castellane. they’re family, tied together by tragedies and victories and magic and letters and visits and love

what’s important to her, when she can’t be the one leading her crew into fights, is training someone new. tâm goes to miles’s magical community school and earnestly asks if they have any accounting classes suitable for one of the younger crew members and gets a weird look, but it’s important to her that they come into this job better than xarus had to, than she had to. that they know how, but they also know why—so they can feed and clothe and take care of and protect this crew, in the big ways in and the small

she still mostly thinks one day at a time, in a better way. tâm will keep putting her body and her weapon in front of her family to fight for them until she can’t anymore. she’s done being scared, and she’s learning to like being scary when she wants to. wherever the bow faces that day is where she’s facing too, and she’ll stand at the hand of her captains and first mates as the positions change hands over the years. tâm will spend the rest of her life on deck, in the storm and the cloudsea. she gets to help people feel safe, at her side and behind her guard.

[nothing-but-dreamy]

COMRADES

Pairing: FFXV!NYX ULRIC x MALE!READER

Words: 1.567

Warnings: cursing

@furtato5ever Thanks for your request! I had fun to write it and I hope you will like it

Synopsis: Sometimes, things get messy and go wrong and in these times, it's good to have a friendly supporter by the side

Exhausted, Nyx sat down on a bench in front of his locker, raking his fingers through his hair to loosen the strands and to get the sand and dust out of them. With closed eyes, he enjoyed the silence around him. The first time in hours there was no noise. It was just quiet and peaceful. Nyx was just sitting there for a few more minutes as he heard something soft coming from some distance. The sound was low, even muffled but Nyx recognized it as crying.

Frowning, Nyx stood up and was about to follow the sound as Luche stormed into the locker room, furious with a raging expression and gritted teeth, "Damn it!", he called out and punched into the nearest locker that the metal was screeching nasty.

"What's the matter?", Nyx asked, looking warily at his friend who was usually calm and composed.

"What's the matter?", Luche hissed, mimicking the question while narrowing his eyes on Nyx who flinched back by surprise about the hate-filled eyes.

"Four Glaives are injured and in hospital! Four! Drautos yells and screams how messed up things were just because this idiot is too clumsy for his own good! I tell you what, just to have the ability to use the King’s magic shouldn’t be enough to join the Kingsglaive. He’s the best example!"

"Who do you mean?", Nyx asked and regretted it immediately as he saw Luche's gleaming eyes.

"Who I mean? The newbie, for fuck saken! I tell you, this guy will be our end! He can't do the easiest things. During the last training? He almost killed his partner as his blade slipped through his hand in the middle of a warp!”, Luche screamed and threw his hands frustrated in the air before he turned back to Nyx, “Oh! Or during the training with the fire magic? He almost burned down the whole Kingsglaive headquarters! On the battlefield earlier? He should secure the left wing but no! The idiot was hiding behind a wall like a coward just watching how the Behemoth ran through the line which is the reason why four of us are in the damn hospital now.", Luche called out and as he was done, he was panting for air. Without saying another word or waiting for Nyx to respond, he grabbed his things and left the locker room to get off some steam somewhere else.

As Luche was gone, the silence seemed to be even louder than before and through it, the muffled sound of new cries caught Nyx' attention again.

Slowly, Nyx followed the sound through the room to the last row of abandoned lockers, walking around them to find the source of the soft cries in a corner: Yn, the newbie.

Yn sat on the ground, leaning against the old, used metal of spare lockers. His head hung low between his shoulders. He was still dressed in his dusty battle uniform, just the hood laid loosely around his neck and the gloves in his lap. All in all, the sight of him screamed for misery.

Without a word, Nyx walked over to his comrade, kneeling down to sit next to him, leaning against the same locker as Yn.

Yn noticed the other Glaive but he didn't dare to look up at him. Yn felt ashamed. He blamed himself for everything Luche had said earlier. He was the reason why others were injured. The mission had almost failed because he was a coward. With a bit of force that the door of the locker clacked, Yn leant his head back, staring at the ceiling, "I don't think I can do that. No! I’m sure I shouldn’t do this.", he whispered.

"It wasn't just your fault.", Nyx said calmly, remembering how messy things had been on the battlefield.

Yn released his breath, "You heard Luche. It was my fault.", he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut but couldn't stop new tears from falling down. Now, he even felt ashamed of crying in front of the famous Nyx Ulric.

Nyx watched Yn. He had been in his position before as well. Doubting himself. Asking what he was doing with the Glaives. All Glaives felt like this from time to time. That was just naturally and came with the job they were doing. But to let these thoughts sink too deep into their minds could end deadly, "Well, you're new-"

"Yeah, I’m the new one and I messed up! Again.", Yn hissed, angry about himself.

"Yes, you did.", Nyx said honestly, shrugging with his shoulders, "But we all did before. No matter what plans the Captain or Luche have...on the battlefield, things are different. Things get out of control."

Slowly, Yn turned his head to look at the man next to him who got called ‘hero’. He had heard so many incredible stories about Nyx that Yn saw him more as an idol than just as a soldier, "Yeah… right. I'm sure you also did things wrong, huh?", he scoffed, unamused.

Nyx chuckled low, "Oh, trust me, I did. By the sight of my first Behemoth? I was rooted to the spot in the middle of the field. I couldn't move, at all. I mean, these demons are scary as hell. Niflheim uses them to intimidate us and guess what? It works pretty well the first few times.”, Nyx said and remembered his first fights behind the wall all these years ago.

“And then? What happened? Were you also ‘hiding behind a wall like a coward’?”, Yn asked, quoting Luche’s words.

“Oh, no. No. I wasn’t hiding. Like I said, I was rooted to the spot. Libertus had to push me out of the way or otherwise I wouldn’t sit here with you right now. I was so scared. I expected to die there. I mean, have you seen these things? They’re big, mean, vicious monsters. with their huge teeth and horns.”, Nyx explained with a grin.

“Hell, tell me about it…”, Yn breathed, agreeing with Nyx while remembering how the big paws of the Behemoth were drumming mercilessly on the ground and the claws were burying into the sand just inches from the spot where he was crouching.

“It’s okay to be scared. We’re not machines like Magiteks. We feel things when we’re fighting. We’re humans after all. Yes, some of us got injured but they’re still alive and they will make it. I know the guys, they’re tough. And if you ask me, I’m still convinced that it was the wrong decision to send you to secure a line without backup. No one expects you to know everything just yet. Wielding blades and using magic is one thing. Learning to live with fear is something else, something that needs some time and practice.”, Nyx said reassuringly and nudged Yn’s shoulder with his own.

The mission order had been a stupid decision in the first place but then, Nyx remembered how he got tested by the Captain in almost the same way. Maybe it was just one of these cruel ideas to see if the new one was cut from the same cloth as the Captain himself...

“I should quit. I will mess things up again and again. It’s just a matter of time until someone dies because of me. I couldn’t forgive myself.”, Yn said low, casting his eyes to the ground.

Nyx watched the young guy. He had seen a fire in Yn’s eyes that told Nyx that he wanted to fight against Niflheim. Yn had his own reasons to fight against Insomnia’s enemies and now, he just had to learn to use these reasons as his drive. Nyx nodded slowly, “You could quit but as I see it you don’t want to. You wanna fight. You wanna kick asses. You just have to get better with your skills.”

“Yeah, and how? The last time I tried to train, I almost blew up this place.”, Yn said crestfallen, fumbling with the gloves in his hands.

“Then, we train together. I will show you a few tricks. You know, Libertus sucked at using lightning magic. One time, he even knocked out himself. I’m not even sure what he tried in the first place and then, he laid shocked on the ground. I swear, I even saw small clouds of smoke evaporating from his ears.”, Nyx said grinning and was pleased to hear Yn chuckle, “And now, Libertus used these powers regularly without hurting himself. Just one tip, if he uses magic? Keep some distance. Just in case.”, Nyx said with a wink.

Yn laughed and wiped the tears from his eyes. He still felt miserable for failing the mission and his comrades. He was sure, the Captain and Luche were disappointed and Yn expected to get a speech about it...or even some impositions. But Nyx’ words had been reassuring. Now, he felt less alone with the fear he had felt before, “Thanks. This talk was … I guess I needed that.”, Yn said, feeling better than before.

Nyx stood up, offering his hand to his comrade who took it and stood up as well. With a grin, Nyx looked at Yn, “You’re welcome. We're Glaives. We fight together. We fall together. And, most importantly, we drink together. Come on, the first drink is on me.", Nyx said and just like that, Yn had found his first new, real friend and supporter.

[chibinekochan]

You are attacked by a demon and die *or not*

I might add the other requested people later since this already took me too long to finish. 

*Lucifer`s part can be found here*

 Requested by @nyx-daughterofchaos98

Angst, Pain and Triggers: Violence,Mention of Death and Blood/Injuries.. 

Happy endings????Maybe, just a warning that there might be no saving the Mc/reader*

Asmodeus

You look so great, he has to show you off to everyone.

Asmo invites you to a hot club, you two dance, have a drink and just have fun.

He lets you have the spotlight for a bit, while getting some attention from an admirer.

When he looks back at you, you are in the middle of having a demon touch your neck.

Asmo thinks this is going far enough and is starting to go to you.

Then suddenly the Demon has an icy glare and snap a loud sound.

Asmo goes pale, with horror he sees that the demon has just snapped your neck.

Amos's heart stops.

He turns into his demon form, killing the demon with a few swift moves.

It is a terrifying sight.

Every other person leaves the club.

Leaving you and Asmo behind.

He sinks to the floor next to you.

Asmodeus checks your pulse, nothing. He checks your breathing, your heartbeat. Nothing at all. You are dead.

Asmo feels tears on his cheek but his heart is frozen. 

He thinks about what options he even has. 

Asmodeus isn't as powerful as Lucifer, but he has connections. 

Mostly people that adore him and want a good time. 

Would any of them be able to resurrect you? 

He is desperate enough to try. 

Asmo calls and texts demons, wizards and everyone else that might be powerful enough to do something like this. 

He gets rejected by most people. 

Asmo grows more and more frustrated, knowing that your soul has already left your body. 

He tried to sell his body multiple times. 

It's no use. Nobody is able or willing to help him. 

Even Solomon rejects him. 

Asmo has never felt this desperate in his entire life. 

You are probably being judged right now, and knowing the system your soul will be sent to heaven. 

Asmo clutches your dead body. 

There isn't anything that he can do. 

He was kicked out of heaven a long time ago, until this day he never once looked back at it. 

Now he feels remorse. 

He is frustrated and he feels so lonely. Everyone has abandoned him. 

He never thought that even you would leave him. 

Asmodeus closes his heart off from anyone. 

He gets cold, the Avatar of Lust is nowhere to be seen. 

Asmo grows distant and cynical. 

He tries to get some information about your soul, and if you might become an angel at least. 

The angels refuse to give him even this little bit of hope. 

This is the final straw for him. 

Asmo leaves the Devildom, waiving his title as Avatar of lust. 

There is no lust left in him

Beelzebub 

You are in the middle of your sports class. 

You are outside running laps. 

Beelzebub is already done and cheering you on, from the side lines. 

Then suddenly something bright hits you and sends you basically flying. 

Beel does not care much about who shoot you. 

He rushes right away over to you. 

He is in a big panic and then he arrives. 

You are severely injured. 

It's plain as day that you will not survive this. 

Beelzebub is not willing to accept this. 

He screams and tries everything to save you. 

It's too late. You are dead. 

Beelzebub is destroyed. 

He holds your lifeless body and tears run across his face. 

Beelzebub screams when they take you away. 

He hasn't talked to anyone for a few days. 

Beel is not eating or sleeping or anything. 

He is just sitting in front of your room in disbelief. 

Beel blames himself for this.

When Lucifer comes to pack your things Beel is begging him to leave everything as it is. 

He just can't accept it. 

Your family wants your belongings but Beelzebub just can't let it go. 

In the end he is allowed to keep a few of your belongings. 

Beelzebub keeps them all hidden in a box, much like his own heart. 

Beel is never the same again, and he will never let anyone else use your room. 

He still has nightmares to this very day. 

Satan

You are at school. 

It is a very ordinary day, with some rather boring studies. 

Satan tutors you and has a bit of mercy with your tired face and gets you both a demon latte. 

He is almost back when he hears a huge commotion. 

Satan finds a demon shouting at you. 

He instantly turns into his demon form.

He yells at the demon, hurrying towards you. 

That is when the demon starts to attack you. 

Satan manages to stand in the way, and takes the most of the damage. 

Sadly he didn't notice that the demon had a tail. 

That has hit you. 

You scream from the pain. 

Satan finishes the demon off with one more blow. 

He doesn't care about his own injuries. 

Satan runs to you. 

You are on the floor, holding your side. 

The floor is covered in blood. 

Satan uses some magic on your wound, to seal it off. 

It's not that effective on humans it seems. 

Satan regrets that he didn't learn any magic to heal you. 

How could this happen to him? 

Satan has no choice but to carry you to the nurse's office. 

He is careful but Satan still runs at full speed. 

You are losing blood and slowly getting weaker and weaker. 

You are barely alive when Satan kicks the door to the nurse open. 

The nurse also has no idea how to treat humans. 

Satan is running out of time. He doesn't want to lose you. 

Out of desperation he uses a forbidden spell. 

This saves your life, with the price of Satan's life force. It links both of your lives together. 

You wake up a while later. 

Satan has been punished, thanks to Lucifer he only got suspended from school and removed from student council. 

He doesn't even care about that. 

At least you are safe, whatever that means for his own life doesn't matter to him. 

Satan is deeply traumatized by this whole experience. 

He regrets that he left you alone. 

Satan is hardly leaving your side after this day.

Leviathan 

You are very good friends, play games, watch whatever anime is on right now. 

You got him to open up more and cosplay together with you. 

He made the outfits himself. 

You are very proud of him and many pictures were taken. 

You go to a big convention and even enter a cosplay competition. 

It's a lot of fun. 

Then suddenly someone gets too offended by you being there and being a human. 

You try your best to calm the demon down. 

It seems to work and they leave. 

Then suddenly the demon attacks both you and Leviathan with a lightning strike. 

It's not doing too much damage to Levi. 

You, on the other hand, are human. 

The attack strikes you down to the ground. 

Leviathan goes pale. 

He is not saying a single word and just stands there frozen. 

Levi does not remember much after that point, he was later told that he ran over to you and then destroyed the entire convention hall in a storm of rage. 

Someone had to call Lucifer and calm him down. 

By the time Levi returned to his senses you were dead. 

He was told that the attack killed you right away but Leviathan does not believe that one bit. 

To him it's his fault. 

He should have protected you, saved you, kept you out of danger. 

Levi should have stayed in his room with you, there you would be safe and sound. 

Leviathan will not leave his room after this. 

Everything he has loved so far now seems pointless and empty. 

There seems to be nothing good left in this world for him. 

He knows that you wouldn't want him to die, but he can't live like this either. 

You were his whole world. 

The best friend he ever had. 

Leviathan finds the only solution he can think of. 

A VR game of the cursed kind, one where he can summon the soul of a dead person into and then shut himself in it. 

He could beat the game to escape, but he doesn't want that. 

Here inside this game he has everything he wants. 

That is you. 

You don't even know that this is a game. 

With some rather convincing lies he makes you believe that you are in the devildom and that accident was no big deal. 

His brothers try everything to get Levi out of the game but it's no use. 

They not only lost you but also him.

Check my Obey me! Masterlist for more content

[a-world-in-grey]

A Year and a Day

@secret-engima Six curse it all WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME-

(Fusion with the new Mer AU because I ALSO have no self-control, ffs. Also, because I’m going off of the one posted story and a single ramble, I have absolutely NO IDEA how much of this actually fits in your Mer AU so like, yeah? See the end/tags for more.)

.

-It’s been a year since those horrible two weeks after Libertus lost Nyx in a storm (a year since Libertus nearly lost her forever) and a year since the realization that mythical merfolk aren’t quite as extinct as everyone thought.

-At first it was just Nox and his Uncle, but after that it seemed like the floodgates opened, because one particularly rough day - not quite a storm thank Ramuh - on the waves saw another merman with the fins of a Lionfish but in red and liquid silver clawing his way on deck and screeching at Nyx and Tredd and it wasn’t until Libertus’ heart stopping trying to beat out of his chest that he realized the merman was scolding the two idiots-

-Captain was the only merman to stick around near constantly, even more than Ardyn and Nox (to Nyx’s disappointment) but occasionally other mer would pop by to talk with Captain in that strange language the rest of the crew was slowly but surely beginning to pick up. 

-It’s been a year since that fateful storm. No, a year and a day, and Libertus is maybe a bit on edge because if there’s something Libertus has figured out, it’s that Fate loves her Significant Numbers.

-(A year and a day. A decade. A century. A millennia.)

-A year and a day. If anything is going to happen. If anything is going to happen, it’s going to be today.

-And to top it off, it’s storming. Again.

-Nox is with them this time. Libertus isn’t sure he should be relieved by the merman’s presence or worried that a powerful mythical being shares his worries.

-The Flotilla is facing off against another Niflheim Fleet. Not Tummelt this time, though Tummelt had survived the storm that nearly claimed Nyx’s life. No, this time it’s led by the Aureus, captained by Caligo Ulldor and that’s the only reason they’re facing off in such a storm at all.

-(No matter the risk, they cannot let Ulldor reach land. Every Galahdian would give themselves to the Stormsender’s Wrath then allow the atrocities Ulldor would inflict upon their people.)

-But Ulldor isn’t the young and reckless captain Tummelt is, surviving by daring and wits. Ulldor, for all that no Galahdian would ever admit it to his face, is a match of skill for any Furia captain, and a crew equally sea-worthy. The Aureus keeps up with the Stormheart, even with Captain at the helm, even as the rest of the Niflheim fleet falls to Nox and the Flotilla.

-Until a note splits the thunder-struck sky, not so much a Song as a shriek, high and shrill and inhuman and panic-desperation-betrayal-runrunRUN hitting all of them like a rogue wave.

-And the scream cuts off with terrible suddenness and Captain roars, hate and fury blanketing the ship as he shouts for them to brace for impact, just in time for a ship - Tummelt - to somehow appear from nowhere and ram them from the port side.

-Libertus manages to grab Nyx and the rigging, wrapping one arm around her waist because he refuses to lose her a second time-

-It doesn’t matter, as the Stormheart splits, sending them into the waves and the last thing Libertus hears is Nox’s furious scream.

-(A year and a day.)

.

-He wakes.

-Libertus wakes with sunshine on his face, in his soul and lungs, hands helping him turn and vomit up sea water as his own clench in the sand beneath him-

-Heaving for air, reveling in the pain because Shiva’s tits it hurts but pain means he’s alive, how-?

-Nyx’s worried blue eyes, checking him over, helping him sit up before wrapping arms around his neck and sobbing. Libertus returning the hug because his brain still can’t comprehend anything his eyes are seeing.

-The crew of the Stormheart, laid out on the beach. Most of them awake and sitting up, being tended to one of the many red-haired Furia that must be from one of the local villages, given the children and Elders among them, handing out food and water and bandages.

-Nox and Ardyn - and when did the other merman arrive? - seeing to the worst of the wounded, blue and gold magic shimmering through the air. And Captain, beside him and Nyx, grim faced but guarding the-

-Libertus’ heart skips a beat, and he wonders if he’s actually dead.

-Nyx lets out a wet snarl and smacks his shoulder. Did he say that out loud?

-“Y-you were.” Nyx hiccups, hands clenching in his shirt.

-Libertus wants to disbelieve it. Coming back from the dead isn’t possible. Only, he can’t, because the Koi mermaid with red and gold scales in the tones of a summer sunset, trailing up arms and from sea-blue eyes, hair the same red-violet as Ardyn, bends over a horribly pale and still Tredd, pressing lips to his and breathes.

-And in a shimmer of gold, Tredd sputters, coughing up seawater as Luche and Axis help Tredd turn over.

-“Breath of Life.” Captain tells him, eyes dark. “A rare gift. And not one without consequences.”

-Consequences? What consequences-

-Sunshine on his face. But the sky is clouded over and Libertus can still feel a warmth in his soul, like the hearthfire of his childhood home, like the summer sun as he and Nyx played in the Galahd River.

-Breath of Life. Nox and Nyx mated with a kiss, “We didn’t just get married, did we?” He squeaks.

-Libertus might be panicking. The least Nyx could do is not laugh at him, thank you very much.

-The Captain’s chuckles are much more reassuring. Mostly because he wouldn’t laugh if it were serious. “No. Mating requires consent.” Captain shoots a wry look in Nyx’s direction. “If not informed consent. Of either party.”

-Nyx just snorts, a year of teasing on the subject inuring her to any embarrassment. Nox on the other hand still turns as red as Ardyn’s hair whenever someone brings it up.

-Libertus is relieved. Not that he’d necessarily mind being married to the mermaid who - on top of being very pretty - saved his life and the lives of most of the crew it looks like, but Libertus doesn’t fancy suddenly becoming part of a harem no matter how pretty said mermaid is.

-“So what happened, then?” Libertus asks, because if he’s not married, he’d like to know what Captain means when he says consequences.

-“A gift of magic.” Captain says bluntly. “Most merfolk aren’t capable of it, but most merfolk aren’t the Draconian’s either, and dragons have always been possessive of their Claimed.”

-What did dragons have to do with merfolk- wait. Libertus’ head whips around to stare at the fire-haired mermaid. At the Koi mermaid, and suddenly Libertus remembers the tales of koi fish climbing the mountain rivers to reach the Sky and become Dragons. “I thought- those are myths.”

-The Captain raises a wry brow. “So are merfolk.”

-And as Libertus sputters at the fact he’s been Claimed by a Princess, Nyx gives up and cries with laughter.

.

More notes on this so I hopefully don’t go any further down this rabbit hole-

-Sola was captured by Niflheim, and experimented on by Besithia who learned how to harness and shape her magic - and the magic of other mer - essentially turning Sola into a magical battery. She and other magically powerful mer are brought into battle to give them a magical edge against their enemies.

-Sola was most commonly brought aboard Caligo’s ship and used to hide the presence of other ships so Caligo could crush his enemies in flanking and pincer maneuvers. 

-Sola sensed the presence of other mer, sensed Titus’ presence and fought back, if only by screaming a warning because she refused to be the reason another of her people were captured and used. She’d die first.

-She thought she would, when Caligo slit her throat and dumped her overboard. But Ardyn found her and healed her, and then he and Nox destroyed the Niflheim fleet and Sola helped rescue and heal the Galahdians.

-Like Titus, Sola has a lot of scars. The worst is the scar across her throat, the scar over her chest and back from someone running her through - the Kings of Yore, multiple times from when Niflheim pushed her magic too far - and the scar across her back from when they first captured her. The rest are from torture, experimentation, and being forced to heal her captors.

-Sola once had a beautiful singing voice. But now, despite Ardyn’s healing, Sola’s voice is a raspy croak and she can’t speak much before the pain gets too be too much, so typically sticks to sign language anyway. Sola doesn’t mind the loss, but Titus and a lot of the other Galahdians feel guilty because she lost it - and almost her life - because she warned them.

-Everyone Sola saves with the Breath of Life ends up getting the gift of her magic. Similar but lesser in scale to the gift of magic Nyx has from her mating with Nox. It also means that Sola becomes very possessive of the Galahdians she saved, because they are Hers.

-The day Sola decides to start Courting Libertus is the start of many Shenanigans and much hilarity for everyone on the Stormheart II. Because Sola’s picked up just enough of Galahdian Courting to know generally what to do (bring gifts/kills to show Ability to provide, bring dead enemies to show Ability to protect home, etc), but she’s a mer so like, not all of it comes across.

-Though, the day Sola presents Libertus with a beautifully made sash of woven sea-silk (that the Lazarus weep over) dyed in shimmering blue and black is the day Libertus finally gets a clue and everyone gets to see Libertus choke and turn bright red. Sola just laughs and kisses Libertus on the cheek.

-Sola and Libertus are very affectionate with each other, though they carefully never kiss on the lips. But forehead kisses, cheek kisses, hand kisses (the first time Libertus does this to Sola, she turns as red as her scales), and lots of cuddling is very common to see.

-Sola crafts a marriage bead out of a golden pearl that she gifts to Libertus. Libertus waits for Sola to braid it into her hair, then braids the Ostium braids into her hair, before he seals their marriage with a kiss. (And, if it applies in this AU, Sola gives up her mer form and most of her magic for the form of a human, and gets to learn how to walk on human legs.)

-(By the time they marry though, Libertus has met the entirety of the royal family including Regis and Aulea and has decided that Aulea is by far the scariest of his in-laws. Nox and Ardyn included.)

.

Fun Fact: in Japanese (and Chinese?) myth, koi swam up river to try to climb the mountains. If they succeeded in reaching the sky, they transformed into dragons.

[houseofhurricane]

ACOTAR Fic: Bloom & Bone (5/32) | Elain x Tamlin, Lucien x Vassa

Summary: Elain lies about a vision and winds up as the Night Court’s emissary to the Spring Court, trying to prevent the Dread Trove from falling into the wrong hands and wrestling with the gifts the Cauldron imparted when she was Made. Lucien, asked to join her, must contend with secrets about his mating bond. Meanwhile, Tamlin struggles to lead the Spring Court in the aftermath of the war with Hybern. And Vassa, the human queen in their midst, wrestles with the enchantment that turns her into a firebird by day, robbing her of the power of speech and human thought. Looming over all of them is uniquet peace in Prythian and the threat of Koschei, the death-god with unimaginable power. With powers both magical and monstrous, the quartet at the Spring Court will have to wrestle with their own natures and the evil that surrounds them. Will the struggle save their world, or doom it?

A/N: I both love and hate writing Lucien (and Vassa! more of her soon) because he's really smart and perceptive, and honestly it's always easier to write characters who know less than I do. But these are my very favorite characters to read about, so, you know, writing growth? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ You can read early previews of the next chapter every Tuesday by following @house.of.hurricane on Instagram. And as always, you can read all chapters at AO3 if you prefer. You can find all chapters here.

Lucien watches the despair in Elain’s eyes transfigure itself into fear. On reflex, he reaches for the place her hands should be, but his fingers slice through the air. He works his way up her arms, his fingers skittering to find whatever is left of her body, and when he feels her elbow, her upper arm, the curve of her shoulder, his breath rushes into his lungs, pure relief.

“You’re all right,” he says, his palms on her shoulders, a lie he needs her to believe. He’s long suspected that the Cauldron gave Elain some formidable magic and that she has never learned to wield it, and now he thinks that gift is swallowing her up. He does not want her to see his fear, to begin to panic. He takes another deep breath, forces his heart to slow.

“What is so wrong with me?”

She reaches out for him again and he notices that her sleeves do not move as if they’re empty. The fabric moves around a wrist that is no longer present in the world, a magic Lucien knows is beyond his capability to resolve. It lacks the familiar resonance of spells or Fae power, as if whatever has hold of Elain is more tightly woven into the fabric of this world.

“There is nothing wrong with you,” he says, instead. His fingers press against her shoulder blades, his thumbs against her clavicles, the bones that are solid and here. He has heard all the meanings in her question and answers the one he knows will infuriate her most, distract her from the disappearance of her hands. “I didn’t think you’d realize. I didn’t think you even wanted me.”

She sighs, too polite to agree or tell an obvious lie.

“I wanted to want you,” she says, the rage and panic slipping from her voice, a cool despair taking hold. He feels for her elbows and cannot find them, and Lucien realizes, trying to contain his smile, that he’s figured out the rules of this game. Sometimes the world feels as simple as a key in a lock.

“You were always looking elsewhere. How could you imagine I wouldn’t get tired of rejection?”

“Aren’t we all going to live for thousands of years?”

“So you thought I could wait for at least one hundred.”

“I thought you would let me…” He watches her eyes carefully focus on his, trying to hide her thinking as she reaches for the right word. The cover might fool anybody else, but Lucien has been looking for tells since he could walk, trying to survive the Autumn Court.

“I think you are only upset because you feel discarded,” he says, quickly, and feels her elbow against his palm.

“You smell of Vassa. The human queen.”

“You were a human not so long ago.” How quick she is to adopt the High Fae prejudices, sneer when she says the word human. He would be more annoyed if he didn’t feel her arms rematerializing.

“My sister told me how you treated her.” The swerve to this insult is clumsy, a baby’s first steps, but he’s still intrigued by this seeming transfiguration to Elain’s personality. Previously, she has dealt out all her slights with silence, at least where he’s concerned.

“And yet you stay in Tamlin’s home.” He keeps his voice low and silky, which he knows is infuriating.

“I thought he was your friend.” Her cheeks are pink and Lucien wonders if maybe he’ll be spared from this deception sooner than he thought.

Below her sleeves, Elain’s wrists are now visible.

“Our lives are too long for you to remain an ornament,” he says, casting around for an insult strong enough to really rouse her, force her to stay. Somehow Lucien has always been asked to rescue the women who will fall in love with other men, which is probably why Vassa is so eminently capable of saving herself.

“You’ve made me into an ornament!”

And when she swings a hand toward him, he doesn’t mind the ineffectual slap because he feels the tips of her fingers on his cheek. Still, when Elain runs toward the house, her whole body intact, he wonders if she even realizes what happened, its magnitude and implications. Even after all his years of attention and scheming, he cannot quite conjure an explanation.

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

Elain cannot stop running one hand over the other, tracing the curve of her fingernail, her knuckle, the tendons at the back of her hands and the bones of her wrists. You’re here, you’re whole, you have all your fingers and all your toes, she whispers to herself, sounding like Feyre fussing over Nyx.

She had still felt her fingers, her arm, connected to her body, but they were distant, prickling, as if she’d slept on them and the blood was reentering each limb. Where had she gone?

Elain does not think much on the argument with Lucien. She’d seen the panic in his eyes, surely a mirror of her own. His words were a frantic spell, a summoning.

Her mind catches, instead, on the look when he’d found her screaming and wailing all her grief. The pity in his eyes. She cannot imagine how this male is supposed to be her mate, her one true love.

Gradually she banishes the image of him from her mind. She replaces him with the surety of her fingers, the line of dirt that never disappears from under her fingernails without magic, the little etchings at each knuckle. All present and near and normal.

She falls asleep without eating her dinner, her hands clutched around each other.

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

“That could have gone better,” Vassa says by way of hello, as soon as Lucien walks into her bedroom. There’s no point in distance, now that Elain already knows what’s between them. Still, Lucien hesitates before he kisses Vassa. The lie is relatively easy to maintain when he’s far from Elain, but now they will be close for weeks or months, maybe longer. Now he will have to practice some form of daily pining, particularly for Tamlin, who knows the way the mating bond can wreak havoc on a male.

“She’s more observant than I remembered,” he says, unbuttoning his tunic. The hardest part of all this lying are the words he says to Vassa, which are often so unlike the phrases he wants to bestow on her.

“Is this the way all mates behave?”

“Sometimes our marriages are political. I’ve heard this is a common practice in the human realms.”

Vassa swats him.

“You forget how long I’ve been around your people, now.”

“Hardly any time at all, for us.” He drapes his tunic over her desk, where she’s left pages covered with her blots and scribbles out for anyone to read. Was Vassa always so trusting, or does she simply believe her thoughts are so uninteresting for his people to contemplate? Her handwriting is bad enough that it’s possible she believes no one will bother to decipher it.

“I never knew you to be cruel,” she says, and when he turns to her he sees the hurt in Vassa’s eyes.

“I would never hurt you.”

She sighs from her chest, the sound as deep as a groan.

“A queen is expected to have better judgement.”

“The situation is more complex than it appears.”

“Men often say this in simple situations when they are in the wrong.”

Vassa’s shoulders are thrown back, her arms across her chest. She has told him that queens must show mercy but also embody justice, and Lucien has no doubts about which quality she thinks is vital in this moment.

“Do you know how easy it would be for a High Fae of certain talents to learn all of the secrets in your mind?” He’s begun to work on the buttons of his shirt, hoping he can distract her from an argument, though he knows from experience that at this point, when her eyes are bright and calculating, that any attempt is futile.

“You’ve shown me how to make a mental shield and you’ve told me secrets.”

“This secret endangers the peace between our courts.” He does not tell her a skilled daemati could storm her mental shields in a second. Vassa is rightfully proud of her own strength and cunning, and he has caused her enough hurt tonight.

“And yet you’ve made it obvious to anybody who cares to pay attention.”

“Tell me what you think you know.”

“Elain Archeron is not your mate.”

He keeps his face too still and triumph flashes on her face, transfigured quickly into a more sober expression as her mind whirls into action, her eyes now a brighter blue, her lower lip caught between her teeth, an expression he wants to memorize and study until he can never forget it.

“That would only be a political disaster if you knew her real mate,” she says, moments later. Her voice is hushed but still the words echo. “And why has he or she not challenged you?”

“I’m not sure,” he says, glad that he can tell her this truth, for the wide description that shows that Vassa hasn’t guessed they’re in the grand home of Elain Archeron’s actual mate. “I would have thought--”

“Tell me.” Vassa steps toward him, extends her hand.

“You are safest if I tell you nothing.” He reaches for her hands, twines her fingers in his own. Her skin is so soft, so new. He would not be surprised to learn that the spell remakes her body completely each evening.

She raises her eyebrow, refusing to be drawn in completely. “I am under a curse and bound to a death-lord, Lucien. You think I’m afraid of a little court intrigue?”

“All of our monsters have been awfully good to you.” He presses a kiss to her jaw, her earlobe. He’ll make a map of her, catalogue the way Vassa feels against his lips. He doesn’t want to think of Elain or Tamlin any longer. The only benefit to this evening’s scene should be that he can share a room with Vassa to only moderate approbation.

“Tell me, Lucien.”

“What if I share another revelation?”

“Dazzle me, Lucien Vanserra,” she says, her voice so dry he lets out a bark of laughter in spite of himself. Cauldron boil this woman’s enemies, the ambassadors who will visit Scythia from foreign courts.

“Elain was weeping when I found her.”

“Naturally. Her mate was dallying with another woman.”

“I can’t tell if you’re making sport of me,” he says.

“I feel sorry for the girl.”

“You’re barely older than she is.”

“Some women -- or females, I suppose -- remain girls longer than others. Anyway, she was weeping.”

“The word might not be strong enough. She was screaming loud enough to rouse the village. But when she heard me approach, her hands had disappeared.”

“Surely you’ve seen more impressive magic in your storied centuries.”

He explains the buried quality of the magic, the way the reappearance of Elain’s hands had been so clearly connected to her emotions, her seeming lack of comprehension at all that had happened.

“That seems a useful talent, if she could control it. An invisible woman would make a perfect spy. Do you think that’s why she was sent here?”

“I don’t think Elain is in control of any of her powers.”

“She has others?”

“Rhysand has never said exactly what, but I gather that he and his court have noticed that she has other abilities. But I’d be surprised if this wasn’t the first time this disappearance manifested itself.”

“Perhaps you’re underestimating her. She could be gathering intelligence for the Night Court.”

“If so, Rhysand would never have summoned us.”

“He doesn’t trust our host.”

“I wouldn’t put it past Rhys to contrive a situation where Elain and I were trapped in the same house.”

“The firebird would be included for what, romantic lighting?”

He pulls her close against him, so that the embroidery of her gown lays down its marks on his skin.

“Included for your knowledge of Koschei,” he says, because on the whole it is a relief to tell her the truth, “and also for my great good luck.”

Vassa lifts her cheek from his shoulder to smile at him and despite the evening’s events, he smiles back at her, celebrates the tiny solitary miracle that is the two of them together in her room. No matter the secrets, the lies he has to tell to contain them, Lucien finds himself believing in that moment that everything will be all right.

He’s always found delusion to be a particularly heady emotion.

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

In the morning, before dawn, Lucien is in a rush, fumbling with his clothes and pulling Vassa from her bed before she transforms and singes the mattress. Tamlin’s servants meet them at the door with a wrapped breakfast that he doubts Vassa will have a chance to eat, and sure enough, before they’re halfway across the gardens, Vassa is a firebird, flapping her wings across the lavender sky, the new dawn.

She does not speak in this form but she follows him easily as he makes his way through the trees, looping and diving to get a better idea of the terrain. In this form she is formidable but still very exposed, and since the war, she’s learned to be vigilant.

After an hour of walking, they reach the lake nearest to Tamlin’s estate, and Vassa launches herself at the sparkling water. Around her, the water bubbles, the steam rising from the place where she dove. Lucien settles himself on a boulder and scans the forest, palms his dagger in one hand and his breakfast in the other. When he’s sure that the only sounds are Vassa’s splashing and the other birds awakening, he puts the knife down and eats the bread and eggs and cheese, watching her flames mirrored on the surface of the water.

Tending to Vassa was the work of servants for months before Lucien took it over, well before they’d wound up in their latest arrangement. He enjoys watching the world wake up, loves watching her transformation, imagining the way that she beholds the world in this form. She has trouble describing the experience, only its limitations, but he can see Vassa’s character inside the bird, her watchfulness and unbroken spirit. If he does not keep her sufficiently entertained, she’ll splash him or draw close enough to leave a burn on his sleeve. As a result, Lucien has told her nearly all of his stories, decades of court intrigue and gossip, rivalries and petty jealousies and tendres. At first, he wrapped these stories in fine telling, with voices and dramatic pauses as if she were a paying audience. But gradually, as they grew more familiar, he began to tell her the stories and secrets that stuck inside him, his voice low and sometimes hesitant. He’s told her about Jessaminda, about Tamlin’s kindness and his rage, the way that despite most evidence to the contrary, he still doesn’t fully trust the Night Court. During these stories, Vassa always watches him with her great blue eyes, still as a swan while she circles the lake.

At night, Vassa will tell him her own secrets, the intrigues of her court, and though Lucien had long scorned the human realms, he finds herself drawn in by the tales, asking her questions, trying to better envision her world.

Behind him, a fallen branch cracks under a foot and the birds scatter. Lucien is on his feet in an instant, Vassa a warm fire close behind.

When he sees the golden beast, Lucien takes a breath before returning his dagger to his belt. Tamlin has appeared more in control lately, but he’s witnessed enough of his old friend’s behavior over the past few years that Lucien can’t be sure there won’t be an explosion.

“You’ve found a pretty spot to while away the morning,” Tamlin says. The words would be charming if the fangs of the beast weren’t quite so large and sharp.

“I promised to show Vassa your lands.”

“I gather that you’ve made many promises to Vassa.”

Lucien holds himself still. He wants to reach for his dagger, give Tamlin an idea of the danger he’s courting, but knows the gesture would reveal too much. Just this once, he’s grateful that Vassa is unable to speak in this form.

“Rhys recruited you to play matchmaker?” he says instead, trying for the kind of courtly sneer that comes so easily to Eris.

Tamlin shakes his head, sending leaves spiralling out of his golden fur, and then in a flash of light, he’s High Fae again, tall and golden against the trees. Lucien is sure that all the motion was simply a distraction from his shuddering at the idea of being implicated in one of Rhysand’s schemes, however harmless, but once again he wonders if Tamlin senses the mating bond.

“I came to seek your counsel,” Tamlin says.

“Vassa--”

“We’ll stay nearby. You will have the chance to defend your queen.”

Lucien looks toward Vassa, who bobs her head on its long neck as if to say go on.

From behind, Tamlin looks the way he always has, his warrior’s body always ready to strike as he strikes a relentless pace through the trees, and Lucien can imagine that he and Tamlin are the friends they were before Amarantha, before Feyre and the war with Hybern, before the Archeron sisters wound up in the Cauldron. It startles him to think that this before is now long ago, past the human lifespan.

When Tamlin stops, his face is grim, his mouth bracketed by deep lines that Lucien has never seen before.

“Why did Rhysand send you here?” he asks, the words almost lost in his growl. There are talons, now, where his fingers were seconds ago.

“I haven’t spoken to him in weeks,” Lucien says. He’d been avoiding the entire Night Court, thinking of what they’d report back to Elain, the implications. “You were the one who asked me to come here, remember?”

“I forget nothing.” Tamlin’s eyes make Lucien think of trees after an unexpected ice storm, the leaves a deeper, brighter green within their crystallized prison. He’s thinking of Feyre’s escapes, the way Lucien aided her and fled himself. The memories of the High Fae are too long for comfortable recollection.

“His people were investigating Koschei,” Lucien says when it’s clear that Tamlin will not elaborate on his suspicions. This is common enough knowledge by now. He should have found a way to the Night Court over the past week, but he was too focused on those last nights with Vassa which have turned out, now, not to be so finally over after all. “I’m sure that’s why they asked for Vassa. And if Elain was sent to your court, I think that matchmaking is once again the most likely answer.”

Tamlin snorts. “There will be hell to pay when Rhysand finds out you’ve rejected Elain.”

There’s a rustle in the trees and Lucien whirls toward it, his knives in his hands. Nobody appears. Since Amarantha arrived in Prythian, he’s stopped trusting these woods.

“Who is patrolling your borders?” Lucien asks. He hadn’t spotted anyone when he and Vassa approached yesterday, but Tamlin’s sentries know these forests, would surely have been warned about the firebird.

“I keep my lands safe.” His voice is gruff, tight, the pride and shame braided together.

“The army you raised--”

“The people of these lands feared Hybern more than they hated me. Once peace was assured, they went back to their homes.”

“Perhaps a visit from their High Lord would convince them.”

“A High Lord who could offer them what, exactly?”

All at once, Lucien is exhausted with this self-loathing.

“Your people will not love you overmuch when the Autumn Court storms your lands, or if a force from the continent invades. Without a wall, your lands are exposed for the taking.”

“There are tales of the beast who roams these lands.”

“Everyone knows that beast is you, Tamlin.”

A surge of power in the air around them, sharp-toothed. Far away, Lucien hears the beat of wings on water, knows that Vassa felt it.

As he always has, Lucien holds still until Tamlin’s temper ebbs. He imagines what it must be, to feel you’ve had everything you wanted and then have it pulled away. To have been held, Under the Mountain, the principal subject of Amarantha’s poisoned regard.

But this time, Lucien does not feel his own anger melt away. What happens if Vassa is captured, or Elain? Each would command a hefty ransom. Elain could drive the lands to war; he’s still puzzled by her powers but can only conclude that they are mighty and dangerous, if it’s anything like the magic her sisters command. But it’s the image of Vassa, back in Koschei’s clutches, which tears at Lucien’s heart, drives him forward.

“I would help you raise the troops,” he says, the force in his voice a surprise even to himself. “Elain and Vassa could be trusted to rouse support. Your people will remember their roles in the war with Hybern. With a little kindness and a little pleading and ample compensation, all of which are seemingly too much for you, they could even be persuaded to remember the way you double-crossed the king of Hybern and joined the battle at a crucial moment. They can still be rallied, should the High Lord care enough. But you have given up on these people and these lands. You think that once your enemies have slaughtered you, then it will only be oblivion and peace, and that might be true in your own experience, but you forget the fact that when your lands are overrun, it will be your people who suffer day by day. They know this already even if you refuse to acknowledge reality. And so they will not mourn you when your lands are seized and you yourself are killed prowling your imagined borders. You will not be worth a single tear.”

Tamlin’s eyes are wide, and before the anger can burn in them, Lucien stalks off in the direction of the lake.

Behind him, the forest is silent.

[secret-engima]

In Fangs and Feathers, what are everyone else's reactions to meeting Xanxus, and vice versa? Are any other reincarnations going to pop up?

In GENERAL reactions are shock (the king has another son?), horror (he’s so VIOLENT AND RUDE), and incredulity (why does Noctis LIKE this guy???). Some more specific ones would be-

-Cor. Cor and Xanxus DO NOT get along for the longest time. It’s like introducing two cats very, very improperly. They tolerate each other at best. Cor thinks Xanxus is violent, uncontrolled, reckless, and selfish. Xanxus thinks Cor is a very, very dangerous man playing at being more calm and in control than he is and that triggers bad memories of Nono’s guardians and their trickery.

-These two will eventually come to a more stable neutrality toward each other after Xanxus stops acting like he’s going to stab Regis at any moment (ie when Xanxus realizes that Regis genuinely does love his illegitimate son and has all the snake-like qualities of a sad fluffy dog) and after many very bloody sparring matches that leave them both exhausted and in need of an elixir.

-Ignis is straight up horrified. He knows Noctis attracts strange people (look at Crowe) and forgives the dangerous ones (look at the various assassins that Noctis has converted) but .... but THIS is Noctis’s brother? Regis’s other son and Titus’s nephew? He’s so .... ANGRY. He walks around like he’s about to commit murder at any given second and yet Noctis ADORES him. It’s only the fact that Ignis can see Xanxus adores Noctis in return that keeps Ignis from trying to poison Xanxus’s tea or something.

-Xanxus, for his part, actually likes Ignis? He’s a Bby Inverted Sun who is clearly very protective and loyal to his Sky. Very smart for his age, and smart enough to be both wary and willing to throw the rule book out the window in favor of protecting Noctis (or better yet, using the rulebook to tangle someone up and trip them legally down the nearest elevator shaft). Ignis knows Xanxus is dangerous and is prepared to fight him to the death the moment Xanxus proves a threat to Noctis. Xanxus approves. He knows Ignis won’t WIN, but he approves. Finally Small Trash gains an Element that isn’t useless or suicidal and hasn’t tried to murder him beforehand.

-Xanxus’s arrival is before Gladio’s Nicked Lung incident (we’ll all just assume Xanxus was out on a Hunt or something when that happened k?) but he’s always ... been neutral toward Gladio. Neutral leaning toward negative. The kid is a brat. Arrogant brat that takes pride in his duty while also being scornful of the bby Sky in his care and THAT makes Xanxus dislike him. BUT, he’s also a kid and kids can change. Plus this is Small Trash’s Storm, he is fully expecting some kind of violent Incident to happen to turn the kid’s attitude around. This does not mean Xanxus won’t join Crowe in kicking the pants off Gladio after he gets back and hears about the Nicked Lung Incident OR from holding it over Gladio’s head for years after but it does mean he won’t outright try to kill Gladio because he knows this is ... how Tsuna-Noct always courts his Elements.

-Gladio thinks Xanxus is SCARY, but also admires him. He ... almost wishes he could be Xanxus’s Shield instead of Noctis’s at first (until the Incident) and thinks Xanxus is a “real man” for always being on the move and ready to fight and get things done. But he also dislikes Xanxus to an extent because Xanxus tends to ignore him or call him Trash instead of his name so....

-After Xanxus hears of the Nicked Lung Incident, Gladio upgrades his opinion of Xanxus from “scary but kinda cool” to “UTTERLY TERRIFYING DO NOT ENGAGE ABORT ABORT ABORT” and also becomes glad he is NOT Xanxus’s Shield because Xanxus is a feral mass of instincts, magic, and wrath tied together in the rough shape of a prince.

-Clarus always knew Regis’s reckless youth would come back to bite. He just ... didn’t expect it to be QUITE this bad. Or violent. Or magically powerful. Or CUNNING because this boy has never touched the political scene before yet he maneuvers through it with the careless abandon that only comes from knowing EXACTLY what all the rules and dangers are and just not giving a flying tonberry.

-He is ready for YEARS for Xanxus to either turn on Regis or turn on Noctis. Or both. Especially after Xanxus’s Shield shows up (more on him later). It ... takes him a long time to accept that yes, Xanxus is loyal and loving, he’s just a feral Cor turned up to 11 all the time and age is not going to make him Chill like it did Cor.

-Xanxus equates Clarus to Nono’s favorite Guardian. Specifically the one that abused Xanxus as a kid and continued to belittle him and treat him as a mad dog for the rest of his life. For obvious reasons, even if this first impression is incorrect, it sours Xanxus’s view of Clarus for years. They come to a silent non-aggression agreement for Regis’s and Noctis’s sake eventually, but not without much glaring (on both parts), snarling (on Xanxus’s part), swearing (on Xanxus’s part), and veiled comments (on Clarus’s part). Once Xanxus is wayyyyyyy older and has been around long enough, their antagonism mellows into something of a snarky frenemies thing, but it takes a while.

-Prompto thought Xanxus was terrifying for all of the ten minutes it took Xanxus to walk in glaring and then let himself get bowled over by a happy Noctis. Seeing the man lying on the floor complaining about “Small Trash get a diet you’re heavy” while absently petting Noctis’s hair went a long way to turn Xanxus from “nigh-eldritch demon” to “really grumpy cat” in Prompto’s brain. It helps that Prompto is the sweetest thing on the planet and even Xanxus doesn’t have the heart to be mean around him (plus Prom is a kid, the most kid-like of all Noctis’s friends, and Xanxus has always had a soft spot from brats as long as they weren’t threats to his Elements or the Vongola).

-Xanxus takes one look at Prompto and goes “ah. Bby Inverted Cloud. Abused bby Cloud. I will protecc.” then hides it under fifty billion layers of Gruff that fools everyone but Noctis, Prompto, and Xanxus’s own Shield.

-Is secretly ECSTATIC when Prompto shows a talent/interest in firearms and proceeds to gleefully train Prompto up to Varia Quality in them. Needless to say, Prompto is now the deadliest thing on the planet (Xanxus is more deadly, but Prompto looks like a cinnamon roll and thus is always underestimated, making him more deadly in the long run).

-The glaives are terrified. Captain’s nephew is powerful, is the King’s oops baby, AND has the general temperament of a rabid Coeurl stabbed to a chainsaw.

-Check that, all the glaives are terrified except for Tredd and Nyx. Tredd loves to antagonize despite the bruises it leaves him and Nyx wants to be friends because HUMAN COEURL. Lib and Luche are a Despair.

-Everyone is a Fear (even Nyx) the day they realize that Xanxus is Titus’s choice for Captain replacement. Which explains why Xanxus signed up the day after he turned 18 despite hating the military but STILL.

-Xanxus ... secretly loves the Glaives. These absolute morons are like his Varia but slightly less psychotic and loud. They are also his Uncle’s People so they must be protected (even if protection comes in the form of chasing them around the training ground shooting at them until they learn to dodge properly NYX). Tredd is a pest, but what do you expect of Storms, and Nyx is a blast because he can actually keep up with Xanxus’s crazy and is usually up for 90% of it. Xanxus’s favorite is actually Lib because Long-suffering Braincell Cloud but shhhh Xanxus isn’t supposed to play favorites with his future troops.

...

-To answer your last question ... yes there will be more reincarnations, but I haven’t decided which ones yet? I know that most of Tsuna’s guardians are NOT present because that makes the cast too big and risks overthrowing the Chocobro dynamic. I also have no plans to bring in any of the Arcobaleno so far and most of the Varia are also not present because I wanna focus on Xanxus and the glaives but.... There IS one member I’ve decided to bring. XDD

-Xanxus spends the three month trial run being kept secret from the world just in case he decides he hates Regis. Obviously he doesn’t, because Regis is the Best Dad™ and that means AFTER that, Regis has to man up and hold a press conference on the existence of his eldest son (who there are rumors about because even the best can’t keep Xanxus completely off the radar).

-Literally one week after the press conference where Regis did his speech and then was surprised when Xanxus actually PLAYED NICE for the camera (ie: didn’t cuss everyone out and only used the word trash ten times, even if he did scowl the entire time and ignore any questions aimed his way), all of Insomnia is thrown into a panic because someone just kamikaze ran a gunship at the Wall and used the diversion to slip through the opening that had been made to let in the weekly trucker convoy of foodstuffs and whatever. Naturally all the Crownsguard and Kingsglaive are up in arms to find the infiltrator that punched the border patrol in the nose and then disappeared into the back alleys.

-Another week goes by with no sign of the infiltrator until he once again rigs a diversion in the form of a truly astronomical amount of firecrackers set off at 4 AM right next to Crownsguard HQ. In the chaos of responding to the “gunfire”, the Nif infiltrator proceeds to careen his way through Citadel security, avoiding capture or death through truly insane shenanigans that make Crowe’s invasion years earlier look like a kitten run.

-Xanxus disobeys orders to stay in his room to instead go hunting for the Trash daring to invade his new home and, being Varia quality, successfully finds the infiltrator before anyone else does in the gardens. Xanxus pulls out a pistol, intending to shoot the Trash through his kneecaps because no doubt the king will want to interrogate him, when the Nif teenager, who has to BARELY be enlistment age and probably only four months out of Imperial boot camp, whirls around and CUTS THE BULLETS with his sword. Which promptly shatters.

-“VOI!” The teen yowls loud enough to shake the leaves of the trees and maybe a few window panes and Xanxus freezes. The teen drops his useless sword hilt on the ground and bares his teeth at Xanxus, green eyes glittering with fury and white-blond, waist length hair left to fly every which way in the breeze (noble’s kid then, no way he’d escape regulation haircuts if he wasn’t from some high noble’s spawn), “You! Get over here and let me stab you!”

-Xanxus holsters his pistol and stalks forward without a word. The teen gets nervous the closer Xanxus gets, Xanxus’s magic flaring around them to box them in with a Shield spell. Once he’s nose to nose with the teen, he reaches out with his magic, poking and prodding angrily at the soul in front of him. The teen doesn’t flinch, just glares with something feral and desperate in his eyes, something manic and NEEDY that reaches out and catches at Xanxus’s burning magic without fear.

-Xanxus takes a breath and its shaky, “Squalo?”

-The Niflheim teenage officer bursts into tears even though he’s trying not to, cussing Xanxus out in between his sobs because Xanxus DIED and he LEFT THEM and HOW COULD YOU YOU IDIOT TRASH BOSS.

-Because they are alone, and because this is his Rain that he thought was forever lost, Xanxus pulls Squalo into a hug that was almost spine breaking and shakes as he pours his magic into the gaping hole in his Shark’s soul.

-The Kingsglaive find them in the garden an hour later, no tears in sight (but eyes suspiciously red) yelling at each other and wrestling like long lost playmates on the ground. Titus, who is used to assessing his nephew’s condition via magic sensing, picks out the vibrate bond of magic between them and groans. “Xanxus, HE’S A NIF. HE’S LITERALLY THE ENEMY.”

-Xanxus hauls the boy (who’s birth certificate would tell you is Tempestas Highwind) to his feet and then pulls him protectively behind him with a snarl of, “Back off, Shark Trash is mine.” When Regis and Clarus, just arriving on the scene and already getting flashbacks to Crowe, make faint noises of protest, he grins and declares-

-“Shark Trash is my Shield, and if any of you have a problem with that you can put it where the sun don’t shine.”

-And Regis wonders what kind of horrible person he was in a previous life to deserve this. Son. Son pls, son he is AN OFFICER OF THE ENEMY FORCES YOU CAN’T MAKE HIM A SHIELD.

-Tempestas/Squalo, loud enough to shake window panes, “VOI I DEFECT FROM THE EMPIRE.”

-Titus just ... groans. Because he knows that look in his nephew’s eyes, that’s both Xanxus’s innate stubbornness AND Lucis Caelum possessiveness. The only way they’re getting rid of this Nif kid is by prying him from Xanxus’s cold dead hands.

-Also fun fact, YES, Squalo is related to Aranea. He is her older brother by a year and YES this is going to lead to the sibling spat to end all spats when she learns her brother uP AND DEFECTED TO LUCIS for seemingly no reason. Tho honestly she’s not surprised, because Tempestas has always vocally hated the empire.

[btchcrft]

CHAOS AND TIME.

there’s a thrum of excitement that’s weaving through his body, like the weave of magic that slides through his veins like a boat through water. he’ll let asher take the credit for the idea but he’s almost chastizing himself for not thinking of it. 

time and magic.

witchcraft and magic.

the ultimate form of chaos. 

he showers quickly, cleansing himself—mind, body, and soul—and gathers the things he thinks they’ll need for this. he’s winging it, making it up on the spot. but he’s the son of witchcraft, he’s the arcane weaver, and he’ll bend magic to his will if it kills him.

which it might. but he’s willing to die for this. they all are, aren’t they? 

with his heart racing, he puts items into a duffel bag: a thick, three wicked indigo candle, two smaller black candles, a yellow candle, a white candle, and one blue. then he goes around his room and gathers rocks and crystals that he’s been researching and finding: apophyllite for recognizing the truth and increasing their insight, two clear calcite to amplify their own power and intent, fluorite to bring focus and protection, and a single nuummite for himself, a sorcerers stone for his own power. he throws in a few more things: his athame, a bowl, some flowers for offerings, a stick of white sage, and ambrosia. 

“this has to work.” he tells himself, looking down at all his items. 

then he makes his way toward the temple of the gods. when he sees asher, he smiles. “just...follow my lead, okay? i don’t have an actual spell for this, but we’re gonna make it work.” 

once inside the temple, kian moves them to the center of it. it’s been a month or so since the attack and the temple has been mostly repaired, but he figures this is the best place for it. they wanted something within it, there has to be power here, more than enough for them both to harness. 

he unloads the items from the bag and takes the stick of white sage, “stay here. i’m setting up a barrier of sorts.” he tells asher before he lights it with a match before he walks in a large circle around them. he walks around it three times, each full circle he recites the same incantation. “thrice around the circle’s bound, evil sink into the ground.” once it’s done, he moves inside of it easily, feeling his magic crackle in the air. 

he arranges the candles in between the two of them, the flourite to the north, a clear calcite for each of them to hold, and the apophyllite crystal between all the candles like a central focus. the nuummite stone is before him. he places the bowl with the flower offerings in it and has the athame laying next to it. 

“ready?” he asks, the excitement still thrumming in his veins. his magic is a roaring storm waiting to be unleashed. he can almost taste it.

the smell of the sage permeates the air around them and he lights each of the candles, one by one. indigo, black, white, black, blue, and yellow. in that order. 

with the calcite in one hand, he picks the athame up in the other. he locks eyes with asher and inhales before he begins. he says whatever comes to mind, whatever his intent is. whatever his demand is.

“i call upon the magic within my blood.” he squeezes the stone tighter, feels his own bracelet reacting. “i call upon the magic in his blood.” his gaze lingers on asher. “son of time and son of magic. our blood, bound.” he digs the blade of the athame into the palm of his hand, the one that holds the crystal. his own blood pools over it, drips into the bowl between them, over the candles and over the crystals. 

“we call upon the threads of time, the weave of magic. show us the catalyst.” he squeezes his hand, more blood pooling and hands the athame over to asher over the licking flames of the candles. “show us the way.” his eyes shift, obsidian and gold. no longer sitting there is kian prieto, son of hecate. but kian prieto, son of hecate, the arcane weaver. 

“keeper of time, gateway to the past, the present, and future. we demand an audience. show us the catalyst of this conflict. show us what happened to nyx and eris.” 

he nods his head toward asher, droplets of blood pooling down his wrist and into the offering bowl, wisps of spectral energy radiating around him, weaves of black and gold pooling in his veins like spider webs.

@asher-jones