#and she's going to sing!!!

[queenrikki]

I can barely believe that I'm going to see her in person in a few days!!!

[druidonity2]

Dracthyr Miku <3

[inkskinned]

so one of the things that's so horrifying about birth control is that you have to, like, navigate this incredibly personal choice about your body and yet also face the epitome of misogyny. like, someone in the comments will say it wasn't that bad for me, and you'll be utterly silenced. like, everyone treats birth control like something that's super dirty. like, you have no fucking information or control over this thing because certain powerful people find it icky.

first it was the oral contraceptives. you went on those young, mostly for reasons unrelated to birth control - even your dermatologist suggested them to control your acne. the list of side effects was longer than your arm, and you just stared at it, horrified.

it made you so mentally ill, but you just heard that this was adulthood. that, yes, there are of course side effects, what did you expect. one day you looked up yasmin makes me depressed because surely this was far too intense, and you discovered that over 12,000 lawsuits had been successfully filed against the brand. it remains commonly prescribed on the open market. you switched brands a few times before oral contraceptives stopped being in any way effective. your doctor just, like, shrugged and said you could try a different brand again.

and the thing is that you're a feminist. you know from your own experience that birth control can be lifesaving, and that even when used for birth control - it is necessary healthcare. you have seen it save so many people from such bad situations, yourself included. it is critical that any person has access to birth control, and you would never suggest that we just get rid of all of it.

you were a little skeeved out by the implant (heard too many bad stories about it) and figured - okay, iud. it was some of the worst pain you've ever fucking experienced, and you did it with a small number of tylenol in your system (3), like you were getting your bikini line waxed instead of something practically sewn into your body.

and what's wild is that because sometimes it isn't a painful insertion process, it is vanishingly rare to find a doctor that will actually numb the area. while your doctor was talking to you about which brand to choose, you were thinking about the other ways you've been injured in your life. you thought about how you had a suspicious mole frozen off - something so small and easy - and how they'd numbed a huge area. you thought about when you broke your wrist and didn't actually notice, because you'd thought it was a sprain.

your understanding of pain is that how the human body responds to injury doesn't always relate to the actual pain tolerance of the person - it's more about how lucky that person is physically. maybe they broke it in a perfect way. maybe they happened to get hurt in a place without a lot of nerve endings. some people can handle a broken femur but crumble under a sore tooth. there's no true way to predict how "much" something actually hurts.

in no other situation would it be appropriate for doctors to ignore pain. just because someone can break their wrist and not feel it doesn't mean no one should receive pain meds for a broken wrist. it just means that particular person was lucky about it. it should not define treatment.

in the comments of videos about IUDs, literally thousands of people report agony. blinding, nauseating, soul-crushing agony. they say things like i had 2 kids and this was the worst thing i ever experienced or i literally have a tattoo on my ribs and it felt like a tickle. this thing almost killed me or would rather run into traffic than ever feel that again.

so it's either true that every single person who reports severe pain is exaggerating. or it's true that it's far more likely you will experience pain, rather than "just a pinch." and yet - there's nothing fucking been done about it. it kind of feels like a shrug is layered on top of everything - since technically it's elective, isn't it kind of your fault for agreeing to select it? stop being fearmongering. stop being defensive.

you fucking needed yours. you are almost weirdly protective of it. yours was so important for your physical and mental health. it helped you off hormonal birth control and even started helping some of your symptoms. it still fucking hurt for no fucking reason.

once while recovering from surgery, they offered you like 15 days of vicodin. you only took 2 of them. you've been offered oxy for tonsillitis. you turned down opioids while recovering from your wisdom tooth extraction. everything else has the option. you fucking drove yourself home after it, shocked and quietly weeping, feeling like something very bad had just happened. the nurse that held your hand during the experience looked down at you, tears in her eyes, and said - i know. this is cruelty in action.

and it's fucked up because the conversation is never just "hey, so the way we are doing this is fucking barbaric and doctors should be required to offer serious pain meds" - it's usually something around the lines of "well, it didn't kill you, did it?"

you just found out that removing that little bitch will hurt just as bad. a little pinch like how oral contraceptives have "some" serious symptoms. like your life and pain are expendable or not really important. like maybe we are all hysterical about it?

hysteria comes from the latin word for uterus, which is great!

you stand here at a crossroads. like - this thing is so important. did they really have to make it so fucking dangerous. and why is it that if you make a complaint, you're told - i didn't even want you to have this in the first place. we're told be careful what you wish for. we're told that it's our fault for wanting something so illict; we could simply choose not to need medication. that maybe if we don't like the scraps, we should get ready to starve.

we have been saying for so long - "i'm not asking you to remove the option, i'm asking you to reconsider the risk." this entire time we hear: well, this is what you wanted, isn't it?

[krazieka2]

Here's a big old Fire Emblem Search & Find I did for the FE3H Masquerade Zine! Find the Golden Deer, but see if you can't find the rest of the students as well! For the ultimate challenge, see if you can't name every character! (Disclaimer two characters are NPCs with no names)

[cubbihue]

Hey if Hazel, Dev, and the gang play DnD, what do you think they would play as.... and how who would be the fortunate(or unfortunate) DM?

When I was 10, my older brother would play massive D&D campaigns in the living room. He tried teaching me the mechanics but it was too much and too boring for my small brain. Instead, I was far more fascinated with things like Warrior Cats.

Apparently Warrior Cats has a d&d game though. So. The kids would all play that instead!

Dev would eventually be roped into joining. Mainly because when you're sitting with a table of kids doing storytelling, you end up getting very invested, and very frustrated when they make the very wrong choices!!!

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

[egophiliac]

I got a really tough question.

What’s your favorite Twst event of ALL TIME?

I like Harveston

this truly is the hardest question. :( but after much consideration, I think Endless Halloween Night wins out for me, because it's nonstop Characters Being Silly the whole way through. the whole thing is just lots of these little dorks having the most ridiculous interactions, which is always my favorite! and of course the big twist is SO delightfully stupid and doubles down SO hard that it becomes AMAZING and I 100% unironically adore it. AND it's Halloween! everyone is in their cute little costumes and having a spooky adventure! it's great!

however, I am ALSO a big fan of the Harveston event! how can I not be! everyone is wearing comfy winter outfits and getting along really weirdly well with Epel's grandma and he's getting a little worried about that! my terrible loud son sews a plush squirrel and then gives it a silly little nickname and refuses to leave it behind when it breaks! the ending shot with the sled! I LOVE IT.

obviously we need the best of both worlds now

[shakingparadigm]

Hyuna saves Mizi due to her own personal reasoning, not out of rebellion duty or obligation. First, to make up for the death of someone dear to her, and second, as an act of self-consolation. Hyuna sees her past self in Mizi, and believes that saving her will help free herself from the past that she's been shackled to.

[hyacinths-in-a-storm]

I love how Azula was “I’m gonna take over Ba Sing Se but I’m gonna do it with culturally accurate clothing”

[crustyfloor]

SUA LORE (I'm going to die one of these days fuck)

When Sua was younger, among all the sisters she had grown up with, she had one older sister, but seemingly, unlike their other sisters, that woman didn't treat Sua with hostility, in fact, she looked like she doted on Sua and looked out for her.

Translation (Creds to: @/greenbean1467 on yt in the comments section):

1/2 ?: You should take care of your hair. (Woah, careful) ?: So immature… 2/2 ?: Alright, it can’t be helped. Sua has to be punished! Tickle tickle! [ At that time, you were my only person, and for that reason, you also made me afraid. ]

"You were my only person, and for that reason, you also made me afraid" Is just...All her life, Sua had been an isolated individual, by choice, and because she had been shunned by her family, avoided due to her cold nature, and during those times she's only had two people to who she could really show herself too, this woman and Mizi, this woman being the only person Sua had in her life I can only imagine how afraid Sua was of losing her sister, and just how much her sister terrified her at times.

1/2 SUA: Mhm, so mother said, it’ll be time to leave after ten more nights. And mother seems happy, and I too… SUA: And that pink-haired kid could be there too, so… ?: Didn’t I tell you it’s uncouth to wiggle your toes like that? 2/2 SUA: Oh… I won’t then. ?: Ugh, so cute! ?: But you know, big sis is worried. ?: Worried that our immature little Sua could just up and die in that hellish place.

This woman and Sua look to be close; they are affectionate, and Sua almost seems to look up to this woman as if a sister figure, but the detail here I'm interested in is how worried this woman is about Sua and her remarks about Sua, she cares about Sua. Still, it shows that she looks down on Sua to some degree, whether this be in a teasing tone or not, I'm unsure. But there's an obvious obsessive fixation on Sua's innocence. And even in this relationship, cruelty was reinforced as a means to an end.

1/2 ?: You’re already so stupid, what if you just up and die in that place? ?: You poor thing, Sua. [They say that corpses fall from the sky in that place. When a weak kid like Sua just up and dies, They burn those kids in a hot, hot fire, And then they open the sky lid to sprinkle them over the living kids Like snow raining down. ] 2/3 ?: Even if it's not, I'm not smart, but I've gone so far ?: Pick--If you die. What should I do? ?: It's so cute Sua.

Growing up under the same guardian, Nigeh, who valued quality and beauty in her pets, it becomes obvious why Sua's sister was criticizing her appearance. She'd grown up hearing the same criticisms from the harsh and cold Nigeh who didn't care for their pets beyond their value, and what all they could bring to the plate, I could imagine just what kinds of things Nigeh would say to a pet human with "abnormalities".

Sua, however, was the perfect pet human, she was pretty, obedient, and acted obediently for Nigeh as a manicured doll to meet their expectations. She was attached to Nigeh like a daughter to a mother, looking to their validation to feel as if she was more valuable than she truly was even though the love wasn't reciprocated. For these reasons, she was treated differently from her other sisters, of course, there would be a level of envy and projection from Sua's sister.

Sua's sister is shown to be anxious about Sua, she seems to have been attached to her in the way a hurt child needs a security blanket to rest at night, Sua is so childish, naive, and stupid, it is reassuring to her sister to have someone to care for, as if there was still hope in this world, so without Sua, her sister's worries wouldn't be soothed, her sister was so scared that she even threatened Sua with fear, expressing how frightening and horrific this environment would be (Like, "Pick, if you die" I read it as "If I lose you, what should I do?)

In this way, Sua seems to parallel mirror woman because Sua had this same dependency on Mizi, again, in the way a hurt, lonely, scared child needs a security blanket to rest at night, Sua wanted Mizi to remain naive and stupid, willingly kept her in the dark so that Sua could feel a sense of peace and security through her, her sister was the same way with Sua, she wanted to keep Sua from the hell she would be subjected to very, very soon, but in the end, telling Sua ugly truths, about the snow, and all, had to have been fueled by bitter feelings, to rid Sua of that type of innocence, could have been any kind of love, perhaps in a twisted way she wanted to protect Sua.

She obviously had to have been mentally unstable (understandably) to say these kinds of things to a child, no less, the way she stares at Sua like she's desperate and broken, really, it's not loving, it's just desperate and cruel. Really, the fact that Alien stage can bring a person to this kind of insanity is a horrifying concept. Still, I believe she was trying to teach a lesson to Sua at this time in her life when she was growing up, making attachments and being susceptible to impressions, it was purposely harsh to frighten her, to project her fears onto Sua, and those words from her sister stuck with Sua for the rest of her life.

From that day on, all Sua could think about was death, all she could do was worry and worry until she met Mizi again.

Meeting Mizi, in all her optimism and bright smiles, was like a healing balm on Sua's wounds, or in other words, her "Cure" .

1/2 SUA: Big sister, your words then made me, as young as I was, all the more afraid. I imagined “just up and dying” so many times, even more than before… 2/2 SUA: But if I meet you again, I want to tell you this. That you were wrong. The one to be pitied was probably you.

1/2 SUA: If this is hell… 2/2 MIZI: Found you! You're that snow doll!

Interestingly enough, Mizi calling Sua a "snow doll" may be a foreshadowing of Sua's death, as now it's semi-confirmed that dead children are cremated and sprinkled down onto the Anakt children's faces, but they only think it's snow. (THAT IS JUST FUCKING SICK. someone kill me)

And a parallel to the MIZISUA video, their first meeting. (The nickname is just--telling of how Sua is perceived, as a little dressed-up doll.)

(And that fact just gives this piece a wholeeee darker meaning. of course. It somewhat disproves the theory that the dead are instead fed to the Wagyein, but I don't know which is worse. Then again Sua's sister could've been going off on a psychotic rant, so I'm not taking it too seriously. It's a weird coincidence though)

1/2 SUA: Where else could you find such a paradise so wonderful? 2/2 SUA: So you're wrong.

(Some nuance may be lost in translation. I died)

So this comic, like Ivan's comic after ROUND 6, Cure, Heavenly Garden, was Sua's reminiscing during her final moments, and her only thoughts were the words of her sister, her face, haunting as it was, and Mizi, her universe.

Sua's sister pitied her for her inevitable fate, she had known the life of being a pet-human, used, abused, and hurt, she feared death and still had her instincts intact. Knowing Sua would go through the same cycle and then meet a terrible fate on that hellish stage...tasted bitter. It was frightening, but it was one small liberty for Sua to make it something of her own.

But for Sua, it was far from hell. Sua's sister references Anakt garden and Alien stage as a whole as hell because it's a one-way ticket to your demise, there is no true life once you're in, that's why it's so frightening, but being found by Mizi in that garden--Mizi was wonderful, Mizi made Sua feel like a child, to feel warm in her bright, gentle light, feeling the tranquility of feeling freed and loved in the comfort of Mizi's gentle song, Sua didn't want to be pitied, she didn't even regret making it this far, she didn't care about death as long as she wasn't without Mizi, Because to be able to be with her, and sing with her...everything was all worth it to meet Mizi. For Sua, there is no fate more miserable than living a life without Mizi and dying that way. Living a life of loneliness and anxiety was pitiful.

Side note, the title of this comic, Heavenly Garden, maybe a religious reference and, more specifically, a reference to the Garden of Eden. The themes here that connect to "Return to the Great Anakt", all children, in ashes and all will eventually return to the great Anakt, it gives me the idea that after Sua's death, her "Heaven", was returning to Anakt Garden and returning to her paradise, Mizi.

[ryssbelle]

N2 Floyd in the first movie

Sad little man got himself captured :(

He also gets punched in the face, but that's neither here nor there lmao

Also sorry for not posting for a fat minute I've been busy XD

Bonus: What John and Branch be doing

RIP in pieces John Dory, you were a brave troll and will be missed

I've got some more doodles of them going through it in the first movie, maybe we will see them soon teehee .

[eggcats]

Idk if this is a controversial belief or not, but I genuinely believe Alastor would like Verosika Mayday

Like: she's a woman, she's a singer/performer, AND she uses her powers over attraction to her own advantage, and I think Alastor would find that funny and respectable as someone unaffected

Also, imagine how hilarious everyone else's responses would be to them just. Getting along like besties.

[evilkitten3]

was fucking around on google images and i ended up stumbling on a reddit post from three yrs ago with a picture of iroh grabbing azula during a fight scene...

this is the only time i can think of when azula seems completely terrified.

he grabs her and she's scared shitless

but he just redirects her lightning and she's just bewildered.

i wonder what she was thinking there

[utterlyazriel]

whom the shadows sing for — (and the thief's echoing hymn)

a/n: not gonna even acknowledge the time break between chappies... all i'm gonna say happy cassian chappie ! <3! i hope u all enjoy it mwah thank u for reading

word count: 3.8k

synopsis: Adjusting to life in Velaris means learning to train with new, friendly faces. A tentative friendship forms. Azriel keeps his distance.

CHAPTER NINE :: FRIENDS (IN OTHER PLACES)

Whoosh.

Training staff gripped tightly in your calloused hands, you swing with a muscle memory built over decades, the stick whistling as it cuts through the air with deadly precision. Strike. Twist. Bend. Strike, twice as hard.

You're going through the motions. A simple warm-up, running a drill that you've done enough times you could probably do it in your sleep. The movements are familiar, easy. Routine.

If you close your eyes, you could almost imagine you're still in Exordor.

Except... there's no familiar wind current to perform its melody in the early morning, dancing through the mountainside trees. No frozen chill to the air around you. No crunch of snow beneath your feet to throw your balance. No bound chest to chafe your skin.

No looking over your shoulder in pure panic at every unexpected noise.

Well, not quite that last one. It's a habit you're dedicated to breaking for the sake of your shot nerves — but evidently failing, considering how you straighten up and whip around when the door leading out to the training ring shudders open.

You hold your breath on instinct and clutch the training staff tighter.

Stepping out into the early morning air, the dawn still unbroken, is another Illyrian warrior.

Mother, how many of them were there around here?

You hadn't got to meet anyone else after that encounter on the balcony, almost exactly one week ago. Hadn't exactly wanted to either.

You hadn't even wanted to see Azriel again so soon after the churning, sickening twist of emotions you had barely managed to stumble through after your severe reawakening.

He hadn't come to see you.

You hadn't asked.

Besides Madja, Rhysand was the only new face you had come to know. He had taken to coming by your room a couple times over the week, checking on the progress of your healing, particularly sympathetic on the state of your wings. Revealed his own with a polite flourish.

He was... different than you were expecting. Perhaps you were learning that rumours are not everything — certainly it's clear that there is more to Rhysand than what first appears.

As Highlord, he had to discuss your potential living situations once you were healed enough to leave the infirmary.

I meant what I said. He had said, violet eyes kind as he hovered at the end of your bed. You're no prisoner here. You'll be free to go wherever you wish, even back to Exordor if that's what you decide.

And if I don't? You had whispered, your gaze fixed on the fine sheets of the bed. If I decide that... I have no home there anymore?

Then you'll have a home here. For as long as you would like.

And though it overrode every single instinct you had learned to trust, everything that had kept you alive this long, you chose to take his word for it.

Rhys said no harm would befall you in Velaris and you would be welcome here for as long as wanted.

But... that didn't mean you were exactly looking to make new friends.

Staring the newcomer that enters the balcony with much less grace than that of usual Illyrians, you watch him closely, not quite daring to take a breath.

At a first glance, you had thought it might be Azriel—heart leaping up your throat—but that was quickly washed away. Something in you knew from the hair standing up on the nape of your neck, before you even saw him properly, that this male was utterly unfamiliar to you.

He's taller, you realise. His hair is a longer and he doesn't quite move with the grace of the Shadowsinger — though, perhaps you are just so unused to seeing a male so relaxed. So caught off guard, in fact, that when he turns he gives a little yelp in surprise.

"Fuck!" He says, one of his large hands jumping out and clenching into a fist —his whole body switching to a fighting stance, you realise— before he relaxes again. His fist uncurls into a less threatening open palm.

"I- sorry, just didn't realise anyone else was out here." His fighting stance melts away, open palm still extended. He gives what you think might be a friendly smile.

You don't respond, only gripping the training staff a little tighter. Every hackle is raised, the hair on the back of your neck prickling, and your entire body winding itself up to prepare to fight, if it comes down to it.

The male seems to realise this as his next move is to raise both hands, palms out, the universal signal for surrender. They're large, tanned, and void of the scars you've come to know on Azriel.

However, where there are usually shimmering cobalt blue siphons, this newcomer has dazzling ruby red ones instead. You count each of his. Seven.

Your throat tightens — like all of Illyria, you've heard of this warrior too. The Lord of Bloodshed.

He doesn't exactly look so fearsome at the moment, his expression easy-going, even friendly, from behind his raised hands.

He seems to be waiting for you to make a move or to speak but after a moment, he realises neither are going to happen.

"Rhys said there might be another Illyrian around." He says, taking a tentative step forward, in the direction of the training ring, letting his hands drop to his side. You notice how he tucks his wings in a little more, like he might be trying to be respectable. Polite.

He's watching you closely. "Didn't mention you were a female, though."

Instinct makes you want to sneer in response — the only time Illyrian males bother bring up the differences in sex is to make some nasty comment about the biological weakness of females.

Not born to be warriors. They spit. Fragility is bred into them from the moment they're conceived. Breakable. Less than. A female in the training ring has as much place does as a male does in the kitchen.

But this male... says female in a way you've never quite heard before. As though he's somewhere closer to awe.

"My name is Cassian," The male introduces himself, his tentative steps becoming more of a stroll as he wanders across to the weapons stand. He eyes them halfheartedly, his focus still on you.

He turns lightly, tucking in one of his wings to peer back at you. "And yours is...?"

You still haven't moved, only tracking his movements with a slight shift of your eyes. Part of you wonders if he already knows your name and he's simply being polite.

Cassian nods as though you've spoken, despite the fact you haven't made a sound.

"Okay, not a big talker, I get it." He dips his head in a little nod, giving you an easy smile, then a quick wink. "Promise I don't bite."

No reaction. You’re not entirely sure if that’s a joke or not.

Either way, Cassian turns and focuses on his selection, pulling one of the training staffs off the weapons rack into his strong, sure grip.

Despite Rhysand's promise, your heart begins to rabbit wildly.

You wonder if this is some sickening game of cat and mouse—if he's perhaps going to tire you out before he selects his true weapon. If he wants you to know he can best you, even without a blade at his disposal.

You're a decent fighter—hell, a great one even—but you know better than to expect to come out on top against the Lord of Bloodshed.

You finally force yourself to move; shifting your feet to face him, you sink into a fighting stance, staff poised to face him, prepared to bare your teeth.

Cassian blinks. It takes another moment for him to realise that none of his friendliness is working to thaw your iciness. He quickly sets the training staff back down with a clatter, raising his hands once more.

"Woah," He says, giving a small shake of his head. "Not looking to fight. Unless you and I are in that ring—" He gestures to the training ring behind him. "I will never try to fight you. And... I hope you can say the same for me."

You don't even realise you've released your breath until you deflate a little, relief coming in small, incremental waves.

He doesn't want to fight. There's no proving yourself, at least not today.

Maybe some day in the near future, he'll demand you get in the ring to earn your space here—because that was the first thing you ever learned as an Illyrian warrior. But not today.

Reluctant and relieved all at once, you lower your training staff.

Your hesitance or silence doesn't seem to hinder Cassian. In fact, he smiles at the motion.

He's quite handsome, you note. In that rugged way, not quite so classically handsome as Azriel. The unexpected thought makes you flush. You shake it away with a shiver.

"You have your reasons for your unease I bet," Cassian continues, his hands drifting back to his sides. His wings have begun to spread out a little more, as if relaxing.

"And if you want me to piss off, I certainly will. My goal is not to make you uncomfortable in the slightest. But... well, I do have just one question."

He pauses, as if waiting for something. Permission, you realise faintly, which surprises you enough that you give a rather jerky nod, permitting him to ask his question.

A brilliant smile spreads across Cassian's face. "Did you really stab Azriel with a fork?"

The question takes you by utter surprise, fresh bewilderment rippling across your features. You shift back almost awkwardly, stepping out of your fighting stance. The memory from months ago rises up inside, the first meeting in your lonely shelter.

How did he know that? He could he know that?

"I—" You trip over the words, not entirely sure how to answer the question. You can't quite tell why he's asking—is he assessing you as a threat? Your voice is tentative and guarded as you murmur out, "...yes?"

You don't think it would've mattered how you answered truly, as the moment you confirm it, Cassian roars in laughter, his head thrown back and his hand clutching his belly. He laughs loudly for a moment, shaking his head with a fond smile.

"Holy shit, I thought Rhys was kidding! Cauldron, what I would've given to see that." His hazel eyes glitter brightly, as though he's excited. "Was he surprised? I bet he was. Where did you stab him?"

His easy tone, like he's talking to an old friend, takes you back. You find yourself responding with an unexpected ease. Looking back on it now, it is a little funny.

"He was," You nod, nearly smiling at Cassian's enthusiasm. Your lips twitch and you gesture to your neck, somewhat awkwardly, miming the motion. "In the neck."

Cassian laughs again. "Oh, and I bet he'd deny the whole thing if it ever came up."

You don't know quite what to say to that—Azriel hadn't ever brought it up and you certainly weren't going to remind him of it. You tilt your head to the side a bit, an unknown feeling making itself known in the pit of your stomach. An anxiety of an entirely different kind.

The male before you is not an enemy. He's not an ally either... and you can't understand what he gains from talking to you.

You can't even fathom the idea that he might just want to be your friend.

So, you turn. Tighten your grip and resume the exercise that had been interrupted. Muscles groan as you work through their achiness, slowly becoming warmer as the hot blood pumps around your body.

Despite what Madja had said a week ago on that balcony, today was actually the first morning you were allowed to train.

For the last seven days, the exercise you were restricted to was mere stretches; only enough to ensure each of your wings could extend fully and that your limbs could move without serious cause for concern.

It had driven you stir crazy.

The only time you ever skipped so many days without training was during your cycle—something you had mercifully missed the end of this time around, hidden away in your unconsciousness.

So, at the first opportunity, when you rose from your bed this morning and Madja hadn't given you that pointed stare and instead gave you directions, you had found the training area. Began with old routines, if only for the fact you don't know who you are when you're not training.

Inhaling now, the wood of the training staff creaks beneath your iron grip. You're trying desperately to use it as a tether, to some semblance of normal for yourself. It's difficult when there's so many changes lurking.

The solid stone makes you sturdier than before. There's no snow beneath your feet to sink your boots into, to find your balance on. But your injuries aren't entirely healed either.

The pain is not fresh but it's still hindering enough to be a nuisance. Your left ear still twinges from time to time—sometimes it seems to hum so loudly you can't hear clearly, others it dulls altogether. Neither are particularly pleasant to experience.

Pain, however, you have plenty of experience in. Gritting your teeth and pushing through it is practically standard for the Illyrian way; especially when you know your body. You know how much it can take. You know it's been through worse.

But the pesky problem with your ear keeps you off balance, just enough that it shows in your motions.

You keep stumbling around like a goddamn fledgling with every new attempt, footing clumsy, which makes you burn in humiliation because that's what you learn first. It's impossible not to feel unendingly frustrated as decades of training all get shifted slightly to the left.

It doesn't help either that there's still those holes in the edges of your wings.

Fae healing is incredibly advanced but even so, there is only so much magic can do.

Lacerations can be healed, stabs and slices stitched up with ease — but a hole, torn forcibly in and through the delicate flesh of Illyrian wings? You know that you should be thanking the Mother that they even still work in their complete capacity.

The skin around where the stakes had been forced is puckered and stiff, whitened by the scar tissue and trauma. It had been sickening the first time you had curled them close around you and realised with a faint horror that you could technically see through them — a irregular circular gash preserved in either wing of how you'd been pinned down.

The air passes through them as you shift, causing an uneasy shiver. They don't catch on the wind quite the same as they did before.

You haven't taken to the skies yet. You're torn between your eagerness to fly again, to prove to yourself that they can still, and the sinking fear that that's something new you'll have to relearn as well.

So, instead, you run through the training drill for the nth time, trying to get back in sync with your own body. Trying to push past where it seems to falter and trying and failing to not care that your wavering movements now have an audience.

Watching him subtly out the corner of your eye, Cassian appears to be running drills of his own, a gentle warmup. He stretches his toned arms above his head, the motions limber and easy. Briefly, your mind wanders to Azriel's own morning training —never mind that you did have experience training with him over many mornings — and the most peculiar fluster flows through you.

You bite your cheek and rein in your drifting thoughts, gripping the staff tighter.

Strike. Twist. Bend. Strike, twice as hard. Your left eardrum squeals, jumping abruptly in volume at the motions, and though you manage to contain yourself to a wince, your twist goes off kilter.

Your wings stretch out to counterbalance but they don't catch the wind as well as you're used to. Your feet stumble to realign and all you can think is how fucking easy it would be decimate you in a fight in that second.

Something awful starts to grow in your throat and it takes a full moment to realise its the urge to cry, clawing up your throat.

You inhale shakily, eyes fixed on the stone beneath you, and will them away. You weren't a crier — but then again, never had you ever felt quite so utterly hopeless as you were right now.

You've always had this—always had the fight from within your bones, always had your body, always relied on your dexterity to push you forward.

Shadow covers the stone before you. Your head shoots ups, that same panic you can't shake jolting in your chest.

"Hi." Cassian says, giving a little two-fingered salute. He smiles kindly. "Cassian. We met maybe, uh, 5 minutes ago? Remember that?"

You blink at him, not even noticing how the distraction sends away the urge to cry. Swallowing thickly, you give a tentative nod.

"Fantastic. Great memory." His smile melts into a grin and though it sounds like he's teasing, you don't exactly feel like it you who's being made fun of. "I— I have no doubt you're an excellent fighter, especially considering you managed to land a hit on a warrior such as Azriel."

Cassian seems to hear his words only after he's said them and gives a minuscule frown. "Wait, don't tell him I said that. He'll never let me live it down."

When you don't react in amusement as he was aiming for, Cassian changes his tone again, more serious this time.

"Look, I might not be exactly sure what happened that meant you ended up here. I know it might not seem like a welcome change of pace but— well- and what I mean to say is— I can see your missteps."

The admittance of your failings makes humiliation swell up within you. You avert your eyes. Cassian, aware of his awful blunder, barrels on.

"But I can see you're getting your feet again." He adds, softer than before. "After whatever happened to you and your wings, I can tell you're already doing better than most Illyrians would. I also know that everything is easier with a little support."

Your gaze tugs back to Cassian's face as his sentence ends, the offer within it leaving you momentarily dazed. He wants... to help you?

You open your mouth to say just that—but instead, say, "They... didn't tell you?"

Something foreign yanks on your heartstrings. You can't say you had expected privacy, not when Rhysand was already generously providing you with both medical aid and a place to lay low and recover. You were in no position to ask for more.

Suddenly, you become hyper aware of your wings and their gaping, obvious scars to pair with the thin white lines of the lashes adorned across them. You rein them back self-consciously, keeping them tucked close against your back. There's relief in that simple motion alone.

"It is not their story to tell." Cassian nods, grave and serious. "And, just as important, sharing it is not a requirement to be allow yourself a little support."

You don't have to tell him, if you don't want to.

Before you, an Illyrian male, like so many that you've detested all your miserable life, and he doesn't know a thing about you. He doesn't get to know what happened unless you decide to tell him.

You taste his words, mulling them over in your mind as you try to figure out what he means. In the heart of it, you can't understand what he truly stands to gain from this offer of support.

"What... kind of support?" You question warily.

Unthinkingly, your grip tightens on the training staff once more—a knee-jerk reaction to the idea of baring your vulnerabilities. It had been well-trained out of you. Connections of any kind risked exposure... and well, the one time in your life you had given it a go, it had only been proven true.

"Whatever you wish." Cassian grins, as if pleased you had asked that exact question. He tucks a stray piece of hair behind his ear and rattles off his list easily, with a slight shrug of his armoured shoulders. "Friendship? Training? Someone to listen when you need it or to drink your sorrows with? I've had plentiful practice with all."

He sends you another wink, teasing and easy like everything else about him. It's disarming actually, just how different he is from what you had been expecting from only the rumours around Exordor. Lord of Bloodshed. He's so...casual.

After another beat of silence, Cassian clears his throat when it becomes clear you aren't exactly jumping onto any of his initial offers. The caginess you exude is palpable and something ragged in Cassian's chest tears wider at whatever his mind conjures up about what might be lurking your past.

True to his word, Rhys hadn't delved into your story or how you came to end up here at the House of Wind.

All Cassian knew for sure is that Azriel had talked of training with a bastard some months ago and now, you were here. A female warrior from Exordor.

Cassian thinks that Azriel likely would've mentioned it if the bastard he was working with was female—but he hadn't. There's much more to your story, he can tell, and it seems to ripple from the edges of your wary, dangerous form at just a glance. Almost a full picture for him to realise, to see clearly.

But... these things were earned.

If Cassian wanted to be your friend, to know your story, he would do it the honourable and hard way.

He would become someone that you could trust in this new, unfamiliar place and he knew it was possible because what Cassian knew lay within him was reflected in you. The one clear part of the picture.

A warrior who knows themselves best when they're fighting.

"Train with me. Please." Cassian tries once more, ready to relent if it was too much, too soon. "There is a lot we can teach each other, I'm sure."

That seems to catch you by surprise, your brows jumping a fraction up your face. You school the expression away quickly but not before Cassian catches it. He nods.

"What do you say?" Cassian grins again, holding out his hand, palm up. Nonthreatening as can be. "Friends? Allies? Reluctant rooftop sharers? I'll take any happily."

You eye his hand, that still cautious air in your gaze, but Cassian can see as something settles within you. Tentatively, you reach forward and put your hand in his, giving it an awkward, stilted shake.

"I'll take allies for now," You say, somewhat demurely. It's taking a mountain load of trust for you to do so, Cassian knows. He does not take that trust lightly.

Cassian grins. "Allies it is."

[NEXT PART: SHADOWS]

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[xfilesinamajor]

SIREN: “Hi, I know you’re thousands of miles from home but it’s me, your wife, just hanging out in the middle of the ocean!”

ODYSSEUS: “Really? Penelope? My one true love, the mother of my child?”

SIREN: “…yep! Here I am right by your ship!”

ODYSSEUS: “WOW 😍😍😍 Penelope, how I’ve missed you!”

SIREN: “Holy shit that worked?!?”

ODYSSEUS: “What was that?”

SIREN: “I said, uh, come into the water!”

[lunar-years]

People hating on maisie on her happy eras tour 15 second tik tok clip I need everyone to back the fuck away from her please and thank you :) like damn you people are miserable

[mttonex]

oc posting 😜

(she's a gen 1 clone of Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton😓)