#fae yells at clouds

[onlymexsarah]

Burning Flames II || Eris Vanserra

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Archeron!reader Summary: Since you became High Fae there were only two things that scared you: your deadly power and your attraction toward the male you should hate most after Tamlin, Eris Vanserra. Warnings: mention of war, death and my english A/n: I'm so happy that your are liking this story! There will be more chapters, but I still have to decide how many. If you want to keep up with the story and want to get added to the taglist just ask! Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

The war was a mess. The smell of blood and death was making Eris sick. He was fighting with both his sword and his power, determined to end every Hybern's soldier that ended in front of him.

His brothers were fighting as well around him, his father too, thank the cauldron. Eris didn't know what he would have done if his father refused to fight for Prythian. Probably his plan to become the new High Lord of the Autumn Court would have seen light sooner than expected.

It was foolish to hope that maybe his father would find his end here in battle, but still it was one more motivation to stay alive and fight until the end.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, something inside his chest stirred. He wondered for a moment if a soldier had managed to slice him in the ribs, but when he looked down he saw that no blade had come close to his chest.

It felt like a string was attached to his ribs, and it urged him to run toward the forest at his right. Eris grunted as he started to make his way throught the battlefield, following the invisible string that was now yelling at him to move faster.

A sense of terror fell over him as he crept closer, as he started to be afraid to know what, or who, laid at the end of that string.

He knew it before he heard you.

"Elain, run!" your voice pierced throught the forest like a fallen star in a clouded sky. He had dreamed of that voice longer than he liked to admit.

His quick eyes scanned around him, searching for any trace of you. Suddenly the smell of burned flesh hit his nose and his legs moved on their own. He had never run this faster in his life. He knew where you were, and he knew you were fighting. Alone.

As soon as he arrived he saw burning flames blinding his eyes for a moment. Then, among them, he saw you, without any armor and with what he recognized as an Illyrian blade at your side, untouched. Around you there were six Hybern's soldiers, sneering at you.

"The King want her alive!" one of them said as you tried to aim at them with your fire. "knock her off!"

It had happened so fast that Eris was still running before he could stop it. A soldier run around you and sliced your leg with his blade. Your yell of pain cracked something inside Eris as he saw your flames going out all at once while you fell on the ground.

Faebane.

Eris saw red. Two soldiers had their hands on your arms, twisting them behind your back. As soon as he was close enough his fire errupted all around him, burning completely the four Hybern's soldiers that circled you while he took his blade in his hand and looked at the two who were still holding you.

"I suggest you to leave her." Eris' voice was as cold as death. He barely register that your head snapped up and watched him surprised.

One of the soldiers snickered and held your arm thighter behind you, making you hiss in pain. "Your father should have bowed to our king when he had the chance."

"Your king should have never came here." was Eris' response before he launched himself at them. Two soldiers were no match for someone with his battles experience. He could have ended them quickly, but he inteded to make them suffer for what they were trying to do.

He took away their swords with little effort, then he gripped their neck with both his hands and watched as they screamed while his fire burned them from the inside out.

When the burned bodies of the soldiers fell down lifeless he took a moment to enjoy what he had done, and then a grunt behind him made him turn on his heels. There you were, trying to use your sword to stand up on your good leg while the other fell useless at your side.

"Let me help." Eris said towering you and offering you his hand. He saw how your eyes stared at his hand for a moment, as if deciding if spit on it or take it. "Don't worry, I won't bite you while there is still a war I need to win out there."

His ironic voice made your eyes snap in his and...cauldron boils him. As you finally decided to take his hand and let him help you to stand up Eris felt like someone punched him in the gut. He was short of breath, his sight darkened all around him until the only thing he could see was you, and only the Mother knew how beautiful you were.

Your hair had been tied in a long braid behind your head, leaving your face in full display for him to admire. Your flushed cheeks, your brown, warm eyes behind which he knew hid a deadly, beautiful power.

Mate.

You were his mate, and he was yours.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

Every inch of his body yelled at him those words. He could feel his soul twisting and jumping, finally relieved to have found their other one.

Eris hadn't realized how long he had stared at you because at some point you took your hand away from his abruptly, the same hand you had seemed to lingered in his for a bit too long, and scoffed. "Don't you have a war to win?"

His brain needed a second to function normally again. You were watching him cautiously, and he realized that the bond hadn't snapped for you. No, it had snapped for him because you were in danger, but the bond had no reason to snap for you.

A feel of protectiveness grew inside him as he watched your bloody leg while you ripped a piece of your cloak and wrapped it around your injury.

"Unfortunately, I can't let a lady in distress walk alone in the middle of a battlefield." he said taking back control of himself and using his casual, mocking voice.

You looked at him with the same defiancing eyes that had him almost kneel when you had watched his father like that during the High Lords meeting.

"I'm not a lad-" your voice stopped abrutply as your eyes widened, looking around you.

"What's wrong?" he murmure quietly, a hand ready on his sword trying to sense any threat.

You just slowly looked around one more time, one of your hand closed thightly over your chest, holding your cloak close as if you were suddenly cold. "The cauldron is here." you said slowly as Eris watched you carefully. "He is watching. He is..." your eyes widened again, snapping toward a direction deeper in the forest. "Nesta!"

And then you run.

***

You ran like your life depended on it. Your eyes were completely watered, you weren't sure if it was from the pain in the leg or the dreadly sensation that the Cauldron made you feel for your sister. You barely saw what was in fron of you, some branches hit your face, some roots made you almost fall.

When you reached your sister your blood froze. The King of Hybern was standing in front of Nesta, Cassian was laying behind her with his wings broken and legs shuttered. They were fighting, but you saw that Nesta was only buying time.

You would not stand there and watch her die. You took a step toward them, ready to yell at the King and bring his attention on you, but suddenly a big hand covered you mouth, pushing you back against someone's chest.

You tried to break free from his grip but he was stronger and pushed you to the ground until you were both kneeling behind a bush.

"It's me, calm down." as the male whispered in your ear you recognized Eris' voice. His other arm was firmly around your waist, keeping you against his chest as he was kneeling right behind you.

For a moment you were confused. Why had Eris followed you? The King of Hybern was right in front of you, the smartest choice would have been to run and go back to the battlefiel with his soldier, so why was he there?

You tried to break free again from his hand on your mouth, but he only pressed it tighter. "What do you think you are doing?" He whispered almost angryly. "You are without power. You can't defeat him."

You brought both your hands on his and pulled it away from your mouth to be able to speak. "He is going to kill my sister." you whispered firmly, turning your head slightly toward him. You had to rose your eyes to met his, and he was already looking at you with an intensity you had never seen. "Let. Me. Go."

"No." Eris sneered almost angrier that you had suggested it. "I won't let you get yourself killed."

"Why do you care?" You almost said out loud, angry at him and looking back at your sister. "My sister needs-"

The words died in your throat as your eyes had shifted on Nesta again and lying few feet behind the King you saw a body. A human, male body. Dead. Lifeless.

Your father.

A pained cry escaped your mouth as Eris quickly blocked it with his hand again. Your hands grabbed his wrist, but not to take away his hand, but to hold it tighter.

Your father's neck was angled at an unnatural angle; his glassy eyes open, staring in front of him. Your father was dead.

Eris hold you tighter against his body as you realized you were shivering with sobs. Had he recognized the body? Had he made the connection? You didn't care, because he held you nevertless.

As you gribbed his wrist as your life depened on it you started to feel something grow inside you. Rage. Anger. Hatred. All of them directed to the King of Hybern who was now standing in front of Nesta and Cassian, both on the ground holding to each other, ready to die.

And you couldn't accept that.

You bite Eris' hand. His surprised and distraction enough for you to stand up and running away from him, toward the king. You were ready with your sword in your hand to kill him, but someone appeared from the shadows behind the King and stabbed a black blade in his throat.

Elain.

"Don't you touch my sister." Elain hissed in the King's ear as he fell on his knees.

You met Nesta's eyes, and with a silent nod you both put your hands on the hilt of the blade and twisted it in the King's neck.

When you turned around to search for Eris, he was already gone.

***

Feyre called the meeting in your old house, and you had prepared everything in just two days. The chairs, the benches, the pillows and everything else that could allow people to sit or stand comfortably through a meeting that surely would last many hours.

To your surprise Beron was the first to arrive. He didn't acknowledge you or Feyre, but he came; that was the important thing. And with him he brought Eris.

You had not seen him since the battle, and somehow you had felt a little disappointed. You had expected...what? That he would seek you out after the battle? He surely had more important things to do, and the farest away you stayed from him the better.

He had saved your life, sure, but it didn't change the type of person he was. The type of person that had made the Night Court hate him for five centuries.

As soon as he entered you had tried to keep your breathing normal. Eris had a brutal slice down his cheek and neck, full of bruises all over his face that made you understand he had went back fighting when he had disappeared.

Worry run through your blood as you saw in what state he was, but you told yourself you were tired, that your father death had brought you to worry for everyone else. You had tired yourself until blankness those days to help the injured, to keep your mind busy, because everytime you stopped doing something the tears came back.

And now, seeing Eris like that made you wondered why he hadn't gone to see a healer. The slice looked back, and a primal sensation grew inside you, needing to help him to heal.

As Nesta showed them where they would sit you tried to push away all those thoughts, telling yourself that you were just confused by the war. But as father and son sat down on their chairs, Eris looked briefly toward you, as he had alwayd known where you were standing, and something flickered in his eyes, Something you couldn't decifer.

You found yourself lost for a moment in those deep amber eyes, but as Mor's figure entered your peripheral view you adverted your eyes, focusing on the next people that enetered the house, giving them a warm smile and gesturing them to their seats.

When the meeting started you stood at Feyra's right, while Nesta stood at her left. Elain had decided to stay away from unwanted attention, but as the only humans who had ever been Made, the three of you stood at the center, rappresenting the perfect middle between High Fae and humans.

People shared their stories, humand and Fae alike. They shared their lives, Feyre told hers, and you had to close your eyes to not cry in front of everyone for what she had been throught. Your little sister, alone in the Fae world had died, and you had risked to lose her forever had it not been for Rhysand and the other High Lords.

You clenched your hands tight in front of you. You would not tell your story. Not yet. Not to everyone. Every choice had been taken away from you since a long time, and even if it sounded extremely selfish, your first choice would be to keep your story for yourself.

The stories you heard were all about the same. Loss and deaths. Loss and deaths in all form and ways. All of the stories might start differently, but they all ended the same. With this war. With someone dead.

And for a moment your eyes fell on Eris again, who was listening carefully every story. You could have easily been part of that stories of death. Your sister might have had to tell the story of how you had died if it hadn't been for him. He had chosen to not let it happen. You couldn't understand why, but he still had. And even if he was a horrible person, you owed him.

His eyes never met yours during the entire night, and something inside you told you he was doing it on purpose. He was avoiding your gaze.

As the meeting come to an end you felt the physical need to talk to him, and it terrified you. You had met him just twice, and talked to him once. It didn't make sense that you wanted to talk to him, but you told yourself it was because he had saved your life. Yes, that was it.

As soon as the people left the house you put the hood of your cloak on your head and followed silently, never loosing sight of the redhead few rows in front of you. You needed to find him away from his father and his brothers, or it would have been extremely awkward.

But one you were alone with him what would you do? Thank him? Ask him why he saved you? Telling him you were extremely confused because the Inner Circle always pictured him as an arrogant, selfish asshole while he had no esitated to save you and stop you from getting killed from the King of Hybern?

Fuck it, you had lost him. You had a vague idea of where the Autumn Court's camp was, but you didn't dare to walk too close to it knowing damn well that their High Lord didn't like you at all.

"Tell me, is it hard for you to stay out of trouble or you find it funny?" a deep voice said behind you making you jump. You turned around and saw Eris hid in the shadows of two tents. "You made a fool of my father at the High Lords meeting, you should stay away from his soldiers."

You took a step closer to him and lowered the hood from your head as you rose your chin looking at him cautiously. "I was looking for you."

Eris didn't hide the surprise on his face. "Why?"

Yeah, why? Your eyes fell on the ugly scar on his face. "You saved my life." You said quietly. "Let me repay the debt by curing you."

He rose an eyebrow, looking at you suspiciously. "Didn't your watch dogs warn you about what a bad guy I am?"

You rolled your eyes and let a bright flame appeared on your hand as you walked closer to him. "I can handle myself, thanks for your concern." You saw him tensing as you stepped closer and you let a sigh. "If I wanted to kill you I wouldn't do it in the middle of a war camp."

Eris' eyes locked in your with an annoyed look. "And, pray tell, how can you cure what other healers couldn't?"

You ignored how his deep voice sent shivers down ypur spine, telling yourself it was for the cold air. "My fire has healing properties. I don't think there is something that my cauldron's gift can't cure." You gestured with a finger to turn his head to one side.

"Have you ever done it before?" he asked uncertain.

You took a deep sigh feeling your patience running out. "Are you always so difficult with people who want to help you?"

"Only if they are pretty." he grinned with a wink.

A sudden need to slap him grew inside you, with something else that you carefully ignored. "Last chance to turn your head or I'll let that ugly scar leave a mark on your face for the rest of your life."

His grin grew wider but, thank the cauldron, he turned his face to one side and shut his mouth. You brought the little flame that glow in your left hand close to his scar while with your other hand grabbed his chin gently. "It won't hurt, just tickle."

He tensed under your touch, and you wondered if in five hundred years someone, beside his mother, had ever showed him kindness. You mentally slapped yourself. Those were dangerous thoughts. From the stories you had heard Eris had never showed kindness himself, so why someone should be kind to him? You were only fufilling a debt, nothing more.

Standing so close he towered you with little effort, and you almost had to go on your tip toes to reach his cheek. For a moment you wondered how many people had stood so close to the heir of Autumn and didn't get hurt, but you pushed those thoughts away.

Your flames dances around his scar for few seconds before it started to heal in front of your eyes. As soon as it was healed completely you took a quick step back, putting distance between your bodies.

"Done." you said clearing your throat.

He touched his healed skin with his fingers silently before bringing his eyes on you. "Thank you." he gave you a nod.

You nodded back politely as your mind started to gather all the reasons why you should leave and forget about him as soon as possible. The list was extremely long. "Good night, Eris."

You put your hood back on and turned on your heels, ready to leave when his voice stopped you. "My tent is at the east side of our camp. I sleep there with my soldiers and they have a strict order to not hurt anyone." You looked over your shoulder, confused by his words. "If you ever need something, come there. You'll be safe."

You didn't hide the confusion on your face, but gave him a nod and thanked him quickly before walking away in the dark.

Eris was dangerous; his encinting amber eyes were dangerous; his silky voice was dangerous; his whole body was dangerous, and not because it was lethal on a battlefield, but because it made you forget every horrible action he had ever did. Only by looking at him you had almost dreamed things that would never be possible, and it terrified you.

For the next days you never placed foot again near the Autumn's camp, and Eris never sought you out.

tag: @adventure-awaits13

[ducksido]

Back again with another ask lol

Loved the first years with the pothead! Reader. Thanks for that it was amazing.

Could I ask for the dorm heads coming over to ramshackle and encountering a very high reader? I think Riddle and Malleus will be funny

-🐁 anon

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle steps into Ramshackle like he’s about to scold someone for an infraction—but he freezes the moment he sees you on the floor, half-buried in snacks, eyes red-rimmed, giggling at your phone.

Riddle: “Yuu, what in the Queen’s name—are you—intoxicated?!”

He’s horrified. Not angry, not yet—just completely baffled. You offer him a chip and a drowsy smile, and he looks like he’s about to pass out from secondhand stress. He starts pacing, muttering about school policy, and ends up leaving with flushed cheeks and a deep sigh.

Riddle (to himself): “This is a serious offense… but… they do seem rather relaxed. Still! No, absolutely not! I refuse to be charmed by this chaos!”

Leona Kingscholar

Leona shows up unannounced, probably wanting to nap in Ramshackle for the peace and quiet. But the moment he walks in, he catches the thick scent of weed and sees you lying on your back, mumbling, “The ceiling’s like… breathing.”

He raises an eyebrow and kicks your foot lightly.

Leona: “You better not be smoking up my nap spot, herbivore.”

But he’s not mad. Not at all. In fact, he flops down beside you and snags some of your snacks.

Leona: “Next time, share. And don’t hog the good stuff.”

Congratulations—you just became Leona’s new chill buddy.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul walks in like he’s about to make a business proposition, but stops immediately when he sees you stoned, face half-covered in cracker crumbs and giggling at the toaster for being "hot."

He blinks. Adjusts his glasses. Blinks again.

Azul: “...Are you under the influence? Is this… recreational?” You: “Duuuude, jellyfish must have crazy dreams.” Azul: “...I see.”

He's half-tempted to leave out of secondhand embarrassment, but his business brain kicks in. Now he’s internally calculating whether a “Magical Relaxation Lounge” is a viable idea.

Azul (leaving): “Hm. Market research is in order.”

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim bursts in with a “Yuu!!” and then immediately gasps when he sees your state.

Kalim: “Whoa!! Are you okay? You look suuuper happy!”

You start laughing uncontrollably at his sparkly energy, and he starts laughing too—without even knowing why. He doesn’t fully understand you’re high, he just thinks you’re having a blast.

You offer him a gummy. Jamil tackles him from behind and yells “NO.”

Kalim: “Aww, Jamil! Yuu said it makes the clouds sing!”

Vil Schoenheit

Vil enters looking like he’s about to shoot a perfume commercial and stops mid-step when he sees your dilated pupils and dazed expression.

Vil: “...Are you aware you look like you’ve crawled out of a swamp? The bags under your eyes are criminal.”

You lazily blink up at him and offer a donut.

Yuu: “They’re from… the void…”

Vil pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs with maximum judgement. He sets down a bottle of water, scowls at the clutter, and mutters:

Vil: “Hydrate, cleanse, and don’t let me catch you like this in public. Ugh. This lighting isn’t even flattering.”

Idia Shroud

Idia doesn’t come to Ramshackle often, but when he does and finds you completely baked, he stops dead in his tracks.

Idia: “W-whoa. You're like… ultra chill mode. Like, final boss Zen state. Is this your limit break form??”

He’s impressed, honestly. He knows all about the herb from online forums but seeing you like this in real life?? Fascinating.

Idia: “Wait, does it increase snack drop rates??”

You tell him you feel like a soft cloud and now he’s convinced you’ve unlocked a passive buff. He sits down and watches anime with you, totally vibing.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus arrives in classic fae prince fashion—grand and looming in the doorway—and you just… burst out laughing.

Yuu: “Yo… yo, your horns are like... party hats for demons.”

Malleus tilts his head, entirely unbothered.

Malleus: “I see. So you’re in a heightened state of consciousness... Curious.”

He sits beside you with that eternal calm, genuinely interested in what you’re experiencing. You ramble about “colorful air” and “time soup,” and he nods like a wise sage.

Malleus: “I would like to try this sensation someday. If it helps ease the mind… perhaps it would lessen my loneliness.”

Bro just turned your high time into a deep emotional confession. You offer him some fruit gummies in solidarity.

[lalacliffthorne]

⚔️ I really don't think now's the best time ⚔️

Azriel x Reader

summary: battlefields are really not the right place for important revelations.

notes: like I said, this is totally inspired by that iconic scene in Pirates of the Carribeans. there's a shit ton of fighting involved, so prepare for graphics. if you want to go all in, listen to this specific part of the soundtrack over and over again and the vibes will be immaculate. now go and have fun, kids.

______________________________________________________________

The middle of a battlefield was arguably the worst place for any kind of not remotely expected revelation.

“Why,”, gritting my teeth, I swung my sword and neatly decapitated the huge, wolf-like beast, “do they,”, dodging a blow, I dropped to my knees, whirling through the mud and slicing open another one's belly, “keep,”, I slid to my feet and finished in an angry, “coming?!”

Slashing my sword across a soldier's throat, I turned around. A gust of wind sent a splatter of rain right into my face, strands of soaked hair clinging to my cheeks as I breathed heavily, my gaze darting over the world going to shit around me, my heart rising in my chest as I tried to catch a glimpse at the familiar sight of blue blazing siphons and leathally flowing shadows.

The battlefield was complete and utter chaos. The heavy rain that had set in only shortly after the fighting began had turned the land into one huge muddy puddle, dirt splashing and covering allies and enemies alike. Our defenses were close to being overrun. In the sky, only a few Illyrians were left fighting alongside Gwyn, the only Valkyrie on the northern flank, up against gryphons with talons like iron and blood red eyes. The rest of the Illyrians had taken to the ground, now fighting side by side with the Fae warriors left on foot, but more enemies seemed to just come flooding from the North, like a never ending stream of monstrous beasts and soldiers armed to the teeth.

Something churned in my chest, and I had to fight the surge of dread rising in my chest.

Unless Feyre turned up with reinforcements soon, we were dead.

There was a call of my name, deep and thundering over the sound of battle, and when I slashed my swords over one beast's throat and raised my head, my heart tilted in a wild flutter.

Azriel kicked a soldier back before turning to look at me over his shoulder. His dark hair was soaked by the rain, mud sprinkled over his armor, the sword in his one hand and Truthteller in the other gleaming with blood. His eyes looked wild, but something flashed through them for nothing more than a second when they found mine.

“I need to tell you something!” His deep voice reverberated over the battlefield.

I sent a soldier flying with a kick to the chest and caught another's blade with my crossed ones, yelling back: “I'm a little busy at the moment!”

Slicing my swords down, I dropped to my knees, sliding over the muddy ground and taking down a row of soldiers with blades to the back of their legs before coming back to my feet, and my breath hitched, my heart dropping out of rhythm when Azriel appeared right in front of me from a cloud of shadows, wet hair curling and mud and blood spattered over his face as his eyes darted over my face, wild and almost desperate.

“It can't wait!”, he called.

Breathing heavily, I stared up at him through the rain pelting down, feeling the ache of my sore body wash over me now that I wasn't moving, and my brows furrowed as concern tightened my chest; because I had never seen him so blatantly unguarded and expressive, emotions practically swirling in his eyes.

“What –“

Azriel pushed me back, and I whirled around, deflecting a blow of a soldier coming at me as the shadowsinger rammed his daggers into another one's chest in the place I had just stood, rain running over his face and shadows rising, wrapping around a third soldier's throat.

“I really don't think now's the best time!”, I yelled, the slight absurdity of Azriel of all people deciding he needed to talk in the middle of a battlefield making my voice dip almost comically.

"This might be the only time!” Azriel's deep voice vibrated over my skin, his rough shout audible even over the roar of the rain and the clashing of weapons, and I whirled around, sword flying down on a soldier's neck and sending blood spattering.

A hand closed around my biceps and pulled me back, then I was spun around, and my heart skipped into my throat when Azriel's chest pressed into mine and he dipped his head, his eyes flying over my face as streams of rain ran over his own, and something like desperation flashed through them when he called over the war cries and clashing of weapons: “I –“

His eyes darted up as my instincts flared in warning, and we moved at the same time, his shadows throwing up a wall against a wave of ash arrows as I slid past him and threw one of my swords at the beast, huge and bear-like, leaping at us. The weapon sank into its side, causing it to crash onto the ground, and I whirled around and rammed my other sword into its throat.

“I need you to know –“ Azriel broke off again, dodging a sword and gutting the belonging soldier in one smooth movement, and I landed a kick on another soldier's back.

“Are you sure this can't wait?!”, I yelled back, diving to avoid a blow to the head and rolling off over my shoulder, sliding through the mud and baring my teeth at a beast that growled back before jumping at me, and I dipped and slit it's throat.

Azriel stabbed his daggers into another wolf-like monster, siphons blazing as he beat his wings and a wave of shadows rolled away, drowning a row of soldiers as he turned, and something staggered in my chest at the sight of him; shadows shrouding his tall, lean body and curling around his shoulders, even broader under his black armor as a flash of lightning illuminated his face.

Even caked in dirt and blood, drenched by the heavy rain as drops of water ran from his hair over his cheekbones, he was utterly and annoyingly beautiful.

“Yes!”, he called back, and I whirled around, swords slashing and reflecting another strike of lightning as thunder rolled and I knocked a soldier to the ground. “I need you to know tha–“

There was a snarl, and I dove out of the way, rolling through the mud as a beast crashed into the spot I had been in a mere heartbeat before. I pushed myself up and slammed my swords down into its back with an angry sound, then I raised my head, my heart thrumming and adrenaline rushing through my veines, and my eyes met golden ones, desperate and wild and only hesitant for a second before the chaos vanished, replaced by something else, something deep and worldshaking. Then Azriel's deep voice rumbled over the noise of the battle.

“I love you!”

The world fell still for a moment. Became quiet and stagnant as my heart did one mighty leap.

Then time fell back into place, something staggered in my chest, and my eyes grew wide.

“What?!”

Somehow, I dodged a blow crashing down out of nowhere, parrying another and directing it to the side as I slid my other blade over the soldier's throat, ramming my shoulder into his chest to push him back before turning around wide eyed, and my gaze met another, shining like amber in sunlight.

“You –“

Movement at the corner of my eye made me duck, and I swerved, dropping to my knees and sliding over the muddy ground. Ramming my swords into two soldier's lower regions, I pulled them out and used the momentum to push myself to my feet. Then I whirled around and yelled, disbelief and sheer shock making my voice rise an octave: “You what?!”

A hand closed around my wrist and pulled me forward, and I stumbled into a solid chest, my heart jumping into my throat as my head whipped up and I could feel the sensation of shadows rising behind me and heard swords dropping and a struggle. But it all felt far away, because I could feel Azriel's body press against mine and his eyes were piercing, looking wild and desperate and pained when he called over the noise of the battle, voice rough: “I love you!”

My throat closed as I opened my mouth in shock; Azriel pulled me past him, and I whirled around and parried the blows of a soldier, slicing my swords over his arms before ramming my blades into his chest, then I threw my head around, my wet hair clinging to my face, and Azriel dropped another soldier. For a second, our eyes met, mine wide and completely dumbfounded, then he dodged a blow.

“You –“ I tried to get closer to him but almost got jumped by a huge beast. Shadows wrapped around me and pulled me back, and Azriel slit a soldier's throat before looking back at me, rain running over his face and desperation flashing through his eyes as he yelled: “I had to make sure you knew!“

A war cry made me spin around, and I dodged, swerving the blow of a sword and slashing my own across the soldier's throat, blood spattering as I yelled back in almost comical disbelief: “So you're telling me now?!”

A hand wrapped around my wrist, whirling me out of a beast's reach and right into the way of a sword crashing down, my own blades catching it effortlessly. A familiar scent rose into my nose, distinct even under the smell of blood and dirt, and my heart thrummed into my throat as I pushed, my swords sinking into the soldier's chest, then I spun around, rain dripping over my skin as I stared wide eyed at the male right in front of me. He was so close that I could hear the roughness in his voice even though he didn't shout, one corner of his lips quirking almost helplessly as his eyes dragged over my face like he wanted to ingrain it into his mind when he called hoarsely: “Better late than never.”

My heart skipped into my throat as I stared up at him, and my lips parted, but then Azriel's eyes darted up, and he pulled me out of the way, his sword catching the one of an enemy soldier.

“What –“ I gutted a gigantic wolf, widening my eyes as I threw the shadowsinger a disbelieving look. “How late is late?!” I ducked, swerving the blow of a sword and ramming my own blade into the side of the soldier's neck.

“I couldn't lose you! If you knew -"

"Azriel!" My shout made his head whip around, and I stared at him, breathing heavily, feeling an ache build under my ribs as I widened my eyes desperately. "Since when?!"

"Since the day you stayed up with me for first time!” Azriel dodged a blow. “Probably even before that.” He raised his head, and something rose in my chest when his amber eyes found mine, his voice raspy when he called lightly: “Probably from the moment I met you and everything went silent.” His gaze flickered over my face, and my heart skipped and tumbled at the emotion swirling inside as he added hoarsely: “I think it's always been you.”

My throat closed up, and I kicked a beast to the side and sliced through some soldier's necks.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that it's you.” Even though Azriel's voice was raised, I could still hear how unsteady it was, raw as the words tumbled from his lips as he called them over the raging battle around us. “From the day I met you, there was something about you that made everything wash away, that made breathing easier, everything easier, even though you drive me insane sometimes! Something that makes me want to be with you, all the time, that makes not being with you fucking ache!” His eyes flickered over mine, chest rising and falling quickly with his heavy breaths as rain streamed over his face, and his throat worked like he was trying not to swallow.

“And it scares the shit out of me, but I don't care anymore!” His rough voice sent shivers down my spine when his amber iris found mine. “You're it.”

Something rose in my chest, fluttering so wildly it felt a little difficult to breathe.

“Why the hell did you never say anything?!”, I yelled in disbelief, and Azriel's jaw shifted as he dodged a blow, slicing the soldier's throat.

“Because I was afraid you didn't feel the same, and I couldn't lose you!”

“What?!” Rain pelted down at me, my soaked armor becoming heavier with every moment, but for a change, I didn't feel any of it. Breathing heavily, I stared at the godsdamned beautiful male, and my heart rose, rose until it was in my throat and the world turned into a tilt.

“Of course I do!”

Azriel's head whipped up, and I kicked a soldier away and slashed his throat before turning around, feeling the words echo through me as I yelled: “I love you too, you idiot!”

As the last syllable left my lips, Azriel stared. Stared as something seemed to rise in his eyes. Then darkness wrapped around him, and he appeared in front of me like formed from shadows. His amber eyes were bright with desperation and something so much deeper, it caused my breath to simply still. Caused my heart to swell and time to slow as he took one last step and slipped his arm around my waist, his scent washing over me in an intoxicating wave, his movements never faltering as he leaned down without an ounce of hesitation, and something shifted in my chest, locking into place with a soundless snap when his lips crashed onto mine in a hard, desperate kiss.

My heart pulsed once. Twice, as something bloomed under my ribs, warm and rising until it thrummed through my whole chest, pulling towards the male pressed against me, body tall and solid and unwavering, and I sucked in a soft, trembling breath.

Oh.

Slowly, Azriel broke the kiss, like he had to force himself to pull back, his nose brushing against mine and causing my heart to miss a step. Then he slowly raised his head, and my breath hitched, gave out completely for a second when I caught the way his iris shifted like amber in golden sunlight, lips parted and gaze piercing mine.

There was a war cry behind me, and Azriel's eyes snapped up, sharpening.

My heart flew, and my instincts kicked in.

Azriel pulled me out of the way with a growl, and I whirled around, swords clashing with two others, blocking their blows as I dropped to my knees and turned, and the blades found their home in the soldier's stomachs. Pulling them out, I raised my head, and my throat closed up when I saw our lines slowly beginning to unravel while the steady stream of beasts and soldiers didn't seem to waver.

My gaze found Azriel, in a cloud of shadows, teeth bared in a snarl and blades flashing in a clash of lightning, rain pelting onto his shoulders, and that feeling in my chest rose until I was sure it had to be visible, like a golden light thrumming under my ribs.

“Azriel!”, I shouted desperately, and he slammed the hilt of his sword onto an enemy soldier's head before turning around, amber eyes finding mine.

My heart tightened almost violently, and before I could stop myself, before even really thinking, I called, my voice a little weak: “Marry me?”

Azriel froze. Stilled on the spot as shadows swirled around him, catching ash arrows and knocking out soldiers, his eyes piercing mine as emotions swirled through them like the storm above.

And suddenly I knew he felt it. Maybe not yet that the bond was vibrating in my chest, thrumming in synch with my racing heart. But that he knew.

Azriel blinked against the rain pouring over his face, and I could see how he suppressed the urge to swallow. Then he shouted, his deep voice causing my heart to flutter: “Gwyn!”

My breath hitched, and Azriel's eyes pierced mine, golden and bare and burning as he yelled: “Marry us!”

“I'm a little occupied right now!”, Gwyn shouted from high above us, cursing as her winged horse barely managed to swerve around a gryphon.

A soldier came at me, and I dodged his blows, sliding my sword over his chest.

“Gwyn!”, I yelled, my voice breaking, and somehow, she must've heard it over the noise and chaos, because she yelled back, only halfheartedly annoyed: “Fine! If I fall, it's your fault!”

I landed a kick on the soldier's chest and sent him flying backwards, then I turned around, and Azriel was there, his hand wrapping tightly around my wrist as he pulled me forward until we were chest to chest, and that golden thrum in my chest soared at the way his eyes pierced mine.

“Dearly beloved,”, Gwyn yelled over the roar of thunder, “we've gathered here today to pull every single one of your feathers, you miserable excuse of a bird!”

There was an irritated screech followed by a scuffle high over our heads, and Azriel pushed me back as two enemy soldiers came at us with swords drawn. Swinging around, I sent my blade down onto the right one's hand, severing it cleanly, and as he screamed, I shoved my sword into his chest.

Azriel called my name, and when my head whipped around, his hand closed around mine, pulling me out of the way of a beast and with my back into his chest, his deep voice rumbling through my body when he shouted over the rain: “Do you take me,”, I kicked out and the beast yelped, “to be your husband?”

Slashing my sword over the beast's snout, a laugh bubbled in my chest when Azriel spun me around, and my heart rose in my chest when I stared up at him, feeling pressure build in my throat as his eyes darted over my face, almost like he was expecting me to change my mind, pull back -

“I do!”

Azriel blinked, and his eyes brightened, became as radiant as amber held into the evening sun. Something shifted in my chest when a smile spread over his face, widening with every second, until creases formed in his cheeks and crinkles around his eyes, and I had to physically fight to keep myself from burying my fingers in his messy hair and pull him in to kiss him.

There was a war cry from our left, and I widened my eyes and jumped back, feeling the a blade whizz down where I had been standing just seconds before, and Azriel growled, wings flaring and sending out a wave of shadows that took down the row of soldiers behind him as I parried the next blow and slammed the soldier to the ground.

Whirling around, I grabbed Azriel's outstretched hand and yelled: “Do you take me,”, I ducked under his arm and blocked a blow, “to be your wife?” Azriel pulled me back, parrying the next as I stabbed my sword into another soldier's stomach. “On the good days and the bad; though,”, smoothly slicing the soldier's throat, I growled, “we might not see a lot more!”

Azriel's grip tightened, and he twirled me around, pulling me out of the way of another soldier, and my heart fluttered violently when my chest pressed into his and that golden feeling thrummed when Azriel nodded, eyes darting over my face and deep voice hoarse when he called over the rain: “I do!”

My breath hitched and heart fluttered, the feeling in my chest rising, and above us, Gwen yelled: “Then hereby, you may be bound! Bound by soul, bound by heart, bound to one!”

There was a flare of heat in the middle of my chest, and my breath hitched when Azriel's grip tightened like he felt it too; the burning of a tattoo appearing on his skin, the sign of the vows made visible in ink.

Gwyn's voice echoed through the skies when she yelled: “You now may –“

Movement at the corner of my eye made Azriel and me dart apart.

“You now –“

I dodged a blow, Azriel's hand closing around mine and spinning me around to parry another as his sword clashed with a third.

“You may kiss the –“

Thunder struck, I ducked under a beast's claw, then Gwyn shouted in frustration: “Godsdamnit, just kiss her!”

My heart surged and skipped and Azriel pulled me around; his arm wrapped around my waist as mine slipped over his shoulder and I could feel him dipping me back lightly as he leaned down, then he kissed me.

Kissed me as rain poured down our faces, my free hand slipping up to cradle the side of his neck and my breath hitching as I kissed back, deep and desperate, and a hoarse sound rumbled in Azriel's throat as he tightened his grip around me, kissing me like it was the first and last time.

The sound of a horn ripped me back into reality, reminding me that the world was close to ending.

Azriel pulled me back up onto my feet, breaking the kiss, and I was thankful that he was just as out of breath as I was, could feel his heart pounding just as quickly. Then he raised his head, and when I looked over my shoulder, my heart skipped high as relief so kneebuckling washed over me, I was glad Az was still holding me.

The cavalry had arrived.

“Come on, you two!”, Gwyn yelled somewhere above us, sounding gleeful. “Let's finish this!”

I raised my head, and Azriel's arm slipped away from my waist, amber eyes finding mine. For a second, I could see something flash through his gaze, like he expected me to pull back, suddenly regret this.

But I just sent him a wide, wicked smile.

“Shall we?”

~

It was still raining, but the storm had moved on. In the west, the clouds were breaking up, allowing the light of the sinking sun to flood over the lowlands, making the light rain shimmer as a rainbow spanned across the sky.

Breathing in deeply, I tipped my head back and closed my eyes as I felt the rain drizzle onto my face and body, washing away the smell of blood from the air and only leaving the scent of wet grass and moss to fill my nose with every slow inhale.

Feyre's arrival with the reinforcements had turned the tide, every last warrior gathering all their remaining strength. Still, there had been many losses, even after our victory, and wandering through the bloody mud, paying respect to the fallen, had caused a weight to rest on my chest, one that could not even be brushed away by the knowledge that my friends, my family was alive; exhausted and strained and with quite a few scratches, but alive.

Which was why I was standing on a hill, a little away from the tents, just listening to the patter of rain and breathing in the clean air as I felt the tension slowly melt from my muscles, leaving only exhaustion and heaviness in my limbs and a feeling of being so tired, I felt like falling asleep on the spot.

I felt him before I heard the call of my name, the feeling in my chest that had shrunk to a small, warm hum pulsing and growing.

Tipping my head back down, I looked over my shoulder, and my breath hitched when Azriel came towards me.

Just like me, he was still in his armor, specks of mud and blood on his cheeks, hair damp and curling like he had attempted to dry it and then got distracted. His dark brows were drawn together as his golden eyes pierced into mine.

“What are you doing?”, he called, his low, deep voice sending pleasant shivers down my spine.

He looked so close to his usual scowl, I felt my heart rise and skip as my lips curved up.

“Cleansing,”, I called back, and Azriel huffed, but it almost looked like he was fighting to keep his lips from twitching as he crossed the last bit of distance.

Turning around, I squinted up at him through the drizzle of rain, the thrumming thing in my chest soaring at the sight of him.

Godsdamned beautiful.

Up close, I could see the signs of exhaustion. His shadows were lazily swirling around his feet, his wings were drooping so much they almost grazed the ground, and his eyes were tired. But something sparked in them when they moved over my face, my heart skipping when I could feel his warm breath brush over my forehead.

“You know we have this ingenius invention for that? It's called a shower.” His voice was so dry, my heart skipped, and a smile slowly spread over my face, wide and bright and freeing in a way that caused something to stagger in my chest.

Azriel's eyes narrowed in, and his shoulders seemed to sag a little.

“I know.” Squinting up at him, I felt my smile grow smaller as I shrugged softly, something tightening gently in my chest.

Azriel's gaze flickered over my face. Then he blinked, and my heart fluttered into my throat when he reached out, gently pushing a wet strand of hair out of my face. His fingers, out of his gloves, brushed over my skin, warm and rough, and my breath hitched, a shudder running over my spine.

One corner of Azriel's lips curved, and that thing in my chest pulsed and thrummed at the way his golden eyes started to shine.

The shadowsinger dipped his head, and my heart skipped and jumped when his lips brushed over mine. Then his thumb and forefinger gently closed around my chin, and Azriel tilted my head back to kiss me, deep and slow until I sank into his chest, my knees simply too tired to keep up with the way all of him made the world spin. My fingers curled into his sides, and Azriel's other hand rose to move to the back of my neck, gently tangling in my hair, and his thumb brushed over my skin until a soft sound broke from the back of my throat and my whole body shuddered.

Azriel's lips curved up against mine. Then he slowly pulled back, and my heart skipped when I saw his eyes, lids heavy and iris hazed over, the only thing betraying him; showing that I had more than the same effect on him that he had on me.

The thought made something rise and flutter in my stomach.

I blinked. Then I furrowed my brows and mumbled: “Crap.”

Azriel's gaze cleared a little, brows drawing together, and his hand slipped down to rest against the side of my neck. “What?”

I stared past him into nothing.

“I just realised we have to explain to Rhys and Cass that we got married without them.”

[hrizantemy]

Nesta didn’t remember leaving Amren’s apartment. One moment, Feyre’s face—ashen, broken—was twisted in something close to betrayal, and the next she was on the street, running. Her boots hit the cobblestone like war drums, her lungs burning as if the Mother herself had cursed her, and perhaps she had. Nesta didn’t care where she was going. She didn’t see the street signs or the fae who jumped out of her way; didn’t hear the distant cries of market vendors or the clang of bells from the Sidra’s docks. All she heard was Feyre’s voice—quiet, crumbling: “If I die…” And then her eyes. Bright with tears. Too bright. Feyre never cried like that.

The wind slapped Nesta’s face, clawed at her skin, as if trying to peel away the truth embedded in her bones. The boy’s Illyrian wings will get stuck in your Fae body during the labor, and it will kill you both.She had said it. She had spoken it out loud. She had hurled it into existence. Nesta had wanted to hurt Rhysand, yes—crack that perfect Night Court mask, pierce the smugness—but not like that. Never like that. Feyre’s baby. Her nephew. Her sister. Her stupid, hopeful, glowing sister, who had looked so proud when she said she was going to be a mother. Nesta had watched that joy crumble to dust under the weight of her words. Words she couldn’t take back. Words that had torn through that apartment like a blade.

And now they tore through her.

She stumbled down an alleyway, the scent of garbage and old rain thick in the air. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest tight, and still she couldn’t stop running. As if she could outrun the truth, as if she could tear herself away from the moment when Feyre turned to Amren—not her, never her—and whispered, “You… all of you knew this?” Nesta had seen it then. The crack in Feyre’s heart. The way it shattered beneath her feet. And she had caused it.

Because she was a monster.

She collapsed behind a stone wall, her knees scraping the gravel. Her body shook. She curled in on herself like a child, forehead pressed to her hands, her breath hitching in wild sobs she couldn’t swallow down. She wanted to claw the words from her throat, rip them from her memory. But they were lodged there. Fixed. Permanent. Etched into her soul like the iron-tinged smell of death.

She should go back.

The thought pierced through the screaming chaos in her head like a shard of ice, sudden and sharp. She should go back, should face what she’d done, should fall to her knees in front of Feyre and beg. Beg for forgiveness, not just from her sister, but from the child who hadn’t even been born yet. From the boy whose wings she had named as his death sentence. Nesta didn’t know if groveling would fix anything—gods, it wouldn’t, it couldn’t—but maybe it would be something. Maybe if she crawled back to the apartment and pressed her forehead to the floor like a penitent priestess, Feyre would see that she hadn’t meant to unravel her like that. That she hadn’t meant to become every horrible thing they’d ever feared she could be. Maybe—maybe—she’d still be allowed to love the child she had cursed with her words.

But before she could move—before her legs could obey that first fractured thought of go back—she heard it. The rhythmic beat of wings slicing through the air. Not thunder. Not some beast come to devour her. Worse.

Cassian.

She looked up and saw him, his massive form descending from the clouds like a storm incarnate, those Illyrian wings that had once been her shield and shelter now nothing but a harbinger of everything she couldn’t face. His hair was tousled from the wind, his eyes already locked on hers with a look she couldn’t read from here, but didn’t want to try. He was coming for her. Coming to find her. Coming to drag her back, maybe—to yell, or to say nothing at all. And Nesta could not bear to see his face. Could not bear to see his disappointment. His disgust. His pity.

No.

The word slammed through her like lightning. No, no, no, no. Her breath hitched as terror seized her again, but it was a different kind of fear this time—not the kind that made her freeze, but the kind that made her flee. She surged to her feet before he could land, before he could touch the earth and close the distance. Her feet pounded the stones, slipping on wet leaves, nearly falling—but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. Not when she knew what he’d see if he looked too closely. Not when she knew the weight of the truth she’d poured into the room like poison.

She was a coward.

A coward who ran from the wreckage she caused, who couldn’t even stay to see the ruin in her sister’s face or the grief in her brother-in-law’s silence. A coward who left Amren holding a room full of broken hearts because she couldn’t stand in the ashes of her own making. And now she ran from Cassian, too—from the only person who might have still held some sliver of belief in her. She knew how fast he could fly. Knew he could catch her in a heartbeat if he really wanted to. But still she ran, stumbling down the side street, clawing her way into shadows like some feral, cornered thing.

Because it was easier to keep running than to stop and let him see the monstrous thing she had become.

Nesta didn’t know where she was going.

Her feet carried her through the twisting, uneven streets of Velaris like they belonged to someone else, darting down alleys slick with mist and crumbling with ivy, past shuttered windows and glowing streetlamps that blurred into smudges in her vision. The city was a labyrinth and she welcomed its confusion, its darkness, anything that might keep her hidden for another moment. The harbor’s salt breeze burned her throat as she sucked in air too fast, chest heaving like a hunted animal’s. She didn’t have a destination. She only knew that she couldn’t stop. Couldn’t turn around. Couldn’t face him.

Cassian.

She could still see his face in her mind—hovering, unreadable, his wings poised like the war general he was, like a man who knew how to face the worst. And she… she couldn’t. She had faced monsters before, horrors beneath mountains, death and power and gods. But nothing terrified her like the look she knew she’d see in his eyes when he landed. Nothing chilled her so deeply as the idea of Cassianlooking at her like she was no better than the father who had abandoned them all, like she was the kind of person who could shatter her sister’s joy and leave her bleeding in the ruins of it.

So she ran blindly, half-blinded by tears she wouldn’t allow to fall, half-aware of the ache in her legs and the sting in her lungs. She rounded another corner, stumbled through a narrow passage behind a row of bakeries, and nearly tripped over a pile of broken crates. Still, she ran—until she felt it.

Talons.

A pressure. A clawing. Not on her skin, not physical, but far more invasive. A scraping at the edges of her mind, at the crumbling, splintered shields she had barely remembered to keep in place. Not Cassian—no, he had never dared touch her like this. These talons were colder, sharper, deeper. The presence that loomed at her mental door was not just a High Lord, but a mate. And not just any mate—her sister’s mate. Rhysand.

Nesta’s body jerked mid-step, stumbling to a halt as her head throbbed with the contact, as if her very soul recoiled. He was trying to get in. Trying to see. And gods, she had given him reason now, hadn’t she? She had done what even he had not dared to do—she had told Feyre the truth. Had thrown it like a dagger into her heart. And now, Rhysand was clawing at her mental walls like the wrathful, protective beast he was, trying to rip through her silence and find the monster who had wounded his mate.

She gasped and pressed her back against a cold stone wall, slamming her shields up tighter, jagged and uneven but impenetrable in her panic. Stay out. Her mind screamed it, snarled it, Stay out, stay out,but still she felt him scratching, testing the seams, waiting for weakness.

Nesta turned her face to the night sky and squeezed her eyes shut. She had to keep running. Because if Rhys got in—if Cassian found her—if she saw what her sister’s mate wanted to do to her…

Cassian was getting closer.

She could feel it—his presence like a storm bearing down on her, a thunderhead chasing her through the alleys of Velaris. The steady beat of his wings behind her was growing louder, more defined. She knew his flight pattern, knew the way he flew with terrifying precision when he was hunting something down. And right now, she was the prey. A part of her—a broken, fractured sliver of herself—wanted to be found. Wanted to be held, maybe. Wanted him to say it was okay, that she wasn’t the monster she knew she was. But the rest of her, the part that had been made of knives since girlhood, that part knew the truth.

There was no forgiveness for what she’d done.

Nesta didn’t think. She ducked down another crooked alley, her boots slipping on the wet stone, almost going down hard before she caught herself on the wall. Her heart pounded like a war drum in her ears, drowning out the city around her—until she heard laughter. Loud, lilting. Feminine. And the smell of heavy perfume curling through the air like incense. She stumbled toward the sound, toward the warmth and the noise like a moth toward flame. There was a door, half-open. A place. Somewhere—anywhere—to hide. She didn’t look at the sign. Didn’t stop to think. She shoved the door open, staggered inside, and gasped as the door clicked shut behind her.

The laughter stopped. Silence dropped over the room like a veil. All Nesta could hear was the rasping of her own breath, the blood rushing in her ears as her knees buckled and she collapsed, crumpling onto the floor like a broken marionette. Her palms hit the hardwood, and she tasted salt and copper and shame on her tongue. The scent of perfume was thicker inside—opulent, cloying. She didn’t know where she was. She didn’t care. Her body shook, her mind splintered, and she pressed her forehead to the ground as if it might make her vanish.

Then, a hand touched her shoulder.

She flinched back so hard she nearly screamed, scrambling like a cornered animal. Her voice cracked as she choked out a single word, “Please,” over and over, like a prayer. Like she could summon mercy if she said it enough. Her throat burned with the force of it. “Please—please—please.” She couldn’t look up. Couldn’t form a sentence. Couldn’t breathe past the crushing weight in her chest. Her vision blurred, and she couldn’t make out the face of whoever touched her. She just kept her eyes locked on the floor, on the worn wood panels, as her body betrayed her—trembling, sobbing, shrinking inward like a child.

And then she heard it. The beat of wings overhead—louder now. Closer.

Terror slammed into her chest like a tidal wave. He was here. He would find her, he would see her like this, see what was left of her, and she couldn’t bear it. Not now. Not like this.

But then, a voice. Feminine. Cool. Commanding. Older. Not afraid of Cassian. Not even fazed. “Get her to the back room. Now.”

Nesta didn’t look up. She felt arms—two pairs—wrap around her, gently but firmly, lifting her to her feet. She didn’t fight. She couldn’t. Her legs dangled uselessly beneath her, her head hanging low as they pulled her along. She stared at the floor, unblinking, too numb to register where they were taking her. Her body shook so violently she thought her bones might splinter from it. She couldn’t see their faces, couldn’t register if they were fae or something in between.

The sound of the door slamming shut behind them cracked in the stillness, and Nesta flinched again, her head jerking toward the noise though her eyes were still glazed with panic. The two figures who had pulled her in—faceless, shapeless to her trembling mind—moved with swift, practiced efficiency. One reached for a tall brass bottle on a side table and began spraying a fine mist into the air, thick with roses and musk and spice, while the other was pulling down rich velvet curtains, snatching up trailing silks and shawls from nearby chairs. Before Nesta could even think to speak, to ask what are you doing,she felt hands on her again—rubbing down her arms and back with oil, dabbing scent onto her pulse points, dragging cloth across her body like they were draping her in costume.

Her panic twisted into something else—confusion, alarm. Her breath hitched as one of the women, her voice surprisingly gentle, leaned in and murmured, “I know it’s uncomfortable. Please bear with it. Your scent is… strong. He’ll track it in seconds if we don’t mask it.”

Nesta blinked at her, still barely standing, still unable to find solid footing in this world that kept tilting under her feet. But the words broke through. Her scent. That was what they were doing. That was why the silks were being rubbed against her skin, why their bodies pressed lightly into hers, transferring perfume and sweat and whatever glamour they wore like armor. The other woman’s hands were in her hair now, tousling it, adding a spray of something sharper—biting and citrusy—to drown out the smell of salt and fear. Everything reeked of heat and desperation and survival.

She wanted to protest, wanted to say stop, but she couldn’t even get the word past her lips. She just stood there, half-draped in strangers, as they worked with military focus to scrub her scent off the wind. And all the while, in the back of her mind, she could still feel the echo of wings in the sky. Cassian. Rhysand. The Night Court.

They were looking for her.

And she was here, hidden behind curtains of smoke and silk and strangers’ sweat, while someone else fought to erase her like a stain from the air.

The scent was suffocating now—jasmine and rosewater and something musky beneath it, clinging to her skin like a second, foreign body. Nesta tried to breathe through her mouth, to keep from choking on the haze that curled through the room like a veil. But then—voices. Just beyond the walls. Muffled by the velvet curtains and the perfume-clouded air, but clear enough to pierce through the static in her mind.

Cassian.

His voice hit her like a slap, even before she could make out the words. That low, rough edge—the one that always carried heat and steel and loyalty. He was close. Too close. Her blood turned to ice in her veins as she realized he was just on the other side of the wall. Her legs nearly gave out again, and she gripped the edge of the table beside her as if it could anchor her in place.

“I’m looking for a woman,” Cassian’s voice said, his tone hard, clipped—his commander’s voice, the one he used on the battlefield. “She ran through here not long ago. Young. Pale. Brown-gold hair. She would’ve looked—” He paused. “—she would’ve looked like she was falling apart.”

Nesta bit down on a sob that tried to claw its way up her throat. Gods, she was falling apart. And he was still trying to find her. Even after everything. Even after what she’d done. She pressed her fist to her mouth to keep from making a sound, her whole body trembling with the effort.

In the parlor beyond the curtain, the music started up again—lute strings plucked softly, a lazy melody that curled around the conversation like smoke. The laughter followed soon after, high and light and utterly false. It was the kind of laughter meant to distract, to deflect. And then, she heard her—the older woman from before. Her voice was bone-dry, coated in centuries of disdain and apathy, and it slid into the air like a knife hidden in velvet.

“What woman?” the madam asked, her tone bored, amused even, as if Cassian had just asked after a ghost. “We see many girls, Commander. You’ll need to be more specific.”

There was a pause. A long, charged silence. Nesta could picture it—Cassian standing just beyond the door, wings half-flared, jaw tight, gaze scanning every corner of the brothel like he could will her out of hiding. He had always been relentless. Always searched until he bled for it. But now, now she didn’t want to be found. She didn’t deserve to be.

“Are you certain?” he asked, low now. Dangerous. “She would’ve looked scared.”

Another pause, then a tinkling laugh—not Nesta’s, but someone else’s, a courtesan perhaps. “Oh, Commander,” the woman said, flippant, honey-sweet. “All the girls here look scared their first time.”

The air left Nesta’s lungs in a ragged gasp. Her knees buckled, and she sank back to the floor, curling into herself behind the curtain. She wasn’t sure what broke more—her pride, or the echo of hope that had dared to flicker when she first heard his voice.

The music swelled again, a lazy lull of strings and rhythm meant to drown out truths, to glaze over danger with a veil of sensual indifference—but even that could not muffle his voice. Not now. Not when it rang so clearly, just beyond the veil of perfume and velvet, as if the walls themselves bent to let him in. Nesta didn’t breathe. Didn’t blink. She clung to silence like it was armor, but her ears betrayed her—desperate to drink in every word.

“I’m not asking again,” Cassian said. His voice wasn’t raised. It didn’t need to be. It was low, slow, full of barely leashed fury that cracked along the edges like lightning in a summer storm. “If you saw her—if you so much as heard her—now’s the time to speak. Because whether you like it or not, she’ll have to answer to the High Lord of the Night Court. And if she’s hiding here, if anyone is hiding her…” He paused then, and the silence was thunderous. “It would be in their best interest to come forward.”

Nesta’s stomach twisted. The words turned to rot inside her. Answer to the High Lord. Not her sister’s mate. Not Rhys. No—the High Lord. The mask was off now. There was no warmth, no family, no forgiveness in that name. Just power. Authority. Judgment. It reminded her—she hadn’t simply said something cruel. She’d committed a crime of a different kind. She had broken something sacred. Shattered it. And now she was a threat. A liability. Something that needed to be dealt with.

Footsteps echoed faintly across the floorboards. She could hear Cassian shifting, feel the weight of his gaze scanning the room again like a spotlight. Her hands dug into the floor, nails curling against the wood. She didn’t dare lift her eyes. Didn’t dare make a sound. She didn’t know if it was cowardice or shame or self-preservation anymore—maybe it was all of it, tangled up inside her like thorns.

Then, finally, a voice answered him.

It was the madam again. Bored still, but no longer amused. “You can tell your High Lord,” she said, her tone clipped like a blade being sheathed, “that we don’t take kindly to threats here. We obey the laws of this city, and no more.” The silence that followed was heavy and coiled tight, like the air before a killing blow. Nesta could feel him hesitate. Could imagine the twitch of his jaw, the flick of his wings as he weighed whether to push further or retreat. She could picture it all in vivid, horrible detail—the disbelief, the fury, the helplessness masked behind duty.

A long, ragged exhale.

Then his voice again, cold and clear and final: “If she’s here… you’ve done her no kindness by hiding her.”

A beat. Then footsteps retreating. The front door opened, and for a moment, the wind howled through the brothel like a wounded beast.

And then it slammed shut.

Nesta didn’t move. Didn’t cry. She just stared at the floor, her whole body shaking—not from fear, but from something deeper. The knowledge that this was only the beginning. That her sister’s mate—the High Lord—would not forget what she’d done. And neither would she.

As the echo of the door slamming shut faded, silence took hold again—but it didn’t last long. The tension in the air unraveled not with reverence or fear, but with breathy snickers. The two girls beside her—those who had bathed her in perfume and dressed her scent in disguise—exhaled in synchronized amusement, their laughter soft, intimate, like they were sharing a secret joke. One of them leaned against the velvet curtain, watching the now-closed door with a smirk curling her painted lips, her perfume still heavy in the air, mingling with Nesta’s breathless shame.

“He thinks he’s terrifying,” one of them murmured, low and conspiratorial, as she adjusted her bodice. “Walking in here like some god, all leather and wings and scowls. Honestly.” She gave a dramatic little shiver, grinning. “I’ve seen worse tempers from a drunk countess with a broken heel.”

The other girl snorted, draping a silk scarf over a nearby hook as though this were just another night in their endless parade of encounters. “And that line—‘she’ll answer to the High Lord of the Night Court.’” She dropped her voice to mimic his low, commanding growl, but twisted it with mocking exaggeration. “Oh no, not the High Lord,” she whispered, clutching her chest in pretend terror. “Whatever will we do?”

They laughed again, unbothered, unafraid—like the words spoken in the other room hadn’t been sharpened by fury and consequence. Like the man they mocked wasn’t capable of leveling mountains or ripping open the sky if he chose. To them, he was just another male throwing around a title, another fool with too much muscle and not enough tact. And perhaps they had seen too many like him—blustering males full of threat and pride and polished armor. Cassian, to them, was a role to be played, not a danger to be feared.

Nesta sat trembling on the floor, still unable to lift her head, still pressing her hands into the wooden slats as if they were the only things tethering her to this realm. Their laughter rattled inside her like bones, like something broken that wouldn’t stop clattering. She didn’t speak, didn’t react—she couldn’t. Because to her, Cassian wasn’t a joke. He was pain. He was love. He was the face she couldn’t bear to see when she was drowning in her own ruin. And these girls—these strangers who had shielded her out of habit or pity—were laughing at him like none of it mattered.

And maybe to them, it didn’t.

Because to them, nothing had happened at all. No life had been cracked open and spilled. No sister had been betrayed. No child had been sentenced by careless, bitter words. They didn’t know what she had done. Didn’t see the wreckage of Feyre’s face. Didn’t feel the weight of the world she had broken.

The door opened.

Light, warm and golden, filtered in through the hazy air like dawn piercing a storm. It spilled across the floorboards in a soft cascade, stretching toward her in slow, deliberate inches. And in its glow, the fog lifted. Nesta blinked hard—once, twice—her lashes wet, her breath still uneven, but her vision finally began to clear. The veil of perfume and panic receded, and the world sharpened into focus.

The first thing she saw were them—the two women who had brought her here. No longer just hands dragging her into hiding or voices dulled by her fear, they now stood bathed in light, fully revealed, as if the curtain of the world had been pulled back to show the gods who lived behind it.

They were devastatingly beautiful.

Twins. So alike it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began. Tall and lithe, their bodies draped in silks that clung to them like water, every movement fluid, deliberate. Hair the color of jet ink poured down their backs in perfect waves, thick and gleaming under the shifting light. Their skin was like polished moonstone—cool and luminous, kissed with a hint of gold, as though the sun itself had once touched them and decided to linger. And their eyes—gods, their eyes—were nearly inhuman. One’s irises glinted like molten copper, the other’s like pale opals, shimmering faintly with every tilt of her head. They did not look mortal. They did not even look fully fae. They looked like something older, something shaped in smoke and ritual and divine indulgence.

One of them leaned against the frame of the door now, her arms crossed loosely over her chest, expression unreadable but not unkind. Her mouth curved slightly at the corners, a cat watching a mouse that had chosen to curl rather than run. The other had moved to the center of the room, gathering the discarded scarves and shawls with the grace of someone born to be watched. Nesta’s gaze drifted over the gentle slope of her collarbone, the way her fingers moved like dancers.

They didn’t speak. Not yet. They simply watched her, unhurried, as if giving her permission to breathe, to adjust, to come back to herself at whatever pace she could endure. The laughter was gone now. The mocking. All that remained was them, standing sentinel in that soft light—like statues in a temple made of perfume and silk, unbothered by the chaos they’d drawn her from.

Nesta’s gaze drifted from the twins, from their impossible symmetry and quiet grace, and found the third figure in the room—the one she hadn’t truly looked at before. The older woman stood in the doorway like a storm that had settled into stillness, arms crossed over her chest, one brow arched with restrained impatience. She was older, yes—her age written in the fine lines around her mouth, in the steel-gray streaks woven through her ink-black hair, in the weight of her presence that filled the room more completely than the perfume or the silk or the candlelight. And yet there was no mistaking it: she was beautiful. Terrifyingly so. But her beauty was not the soft, romantic sort that faded with time. Hers was sharp-edged, sculpted from stone and ash and years of survival. A beauty that did not beg to be admired—it demanded respect.

Her eyes were the color of old smoke, fathomless and unflinching, and they locked onto Nesta with a precision that left her breathless. There was nothing soft in that gaze. Nothing pitying. Only assessment. Judgment. Perhaps even recognition of the storm trembling beneath Nesta’s skin. The woman had the bearing of someone who had ruled something once—someone who had lost everything and clawed her way back to the top without asking for permission. There was no crown on her brow, but Nesta felt like she was kneeling before a queen.

“You’d better have a very good reason,” the woman said, her voice low, calm, but humming with danger, “for making me lie to the commander of the Night Court.”

[azrielsdove]

Love and Loss: Ch.9

Warnings: Violence, Angst

Ch.8 Here | Ch.10 Here

***

“Rhysand!” Azriel bellowed into the night, wind and rain lashing his face. He didn’t even feel the cold seeping through his wings, mind entirely focused on finding the pathetic excuse of a male. His shadows were searching wildly, waiting for any signal that the High Lord was near.

A flash of lightning illuminated the sky, showing the winged figure flying quickly away. Azriel growled, darting towards it. All rational thought had been ripped from his brain as he flew through the heavy storm, dark anger clouding his vision. He didn’t think twice before sending his shadows out and wrapping them tightly around the other males wings.

Rhysand gave a shout of pain as he tumbled a short distance before breaking free of the shadows. “You don’t want to go against me, Azriel! I won’t go easy on you this time.” His sneering words only fueled Azriel’s rage, the memory of their fight five hundred years ago pushing him along.

He wouldn’t let Rhysand sweet talk his way out of this one.

“You’re disgusting, Rhysand! What sick game do you play as your mate hides away from you? You think she will truly love you, seeing what you are?” Azriel hovered feet from his brother, watching the violet of his eyes blaze.

“You will never understand the bond Feyre and I have. I can offer her the world, and I intend to do so. Where is your mate, Brother?” A wicked smile crossed his face.

“Oh, that’s right! I married her.”

Azriel didn’t hear the yell that ripped from him as he shot towards Rhysand, hands wrapping around the High Lords throat. Those violet eyes flared before a rush of darkness pulled Azriel away, locking his wings to keep him from flying. He was plummeting to the ground, the rain like knives against his skin. He broke free from Rhysands power with a great roar, rocketing back up to where he hovered.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” He yelled, a blue light of power hurtling through his brother’s wing. Rhysand gave a great cry and fell toward the woods below, his remaining wing flapping wildly. He winnowed at the last second, landing easily a few feet down. Azriel landed next to him, hands curled into fists.

Rhysand managed a laugh, looking over the Shadowsinger. “You truly think I didn’t realize? That I didn’t know the second you came to me, begging I leave her alone? I saw it then, even if you didn’t.” He flared his injured wing out, wincing even as his fae healing was already working through it. Azriel’s mind was reeling, processing the words Rhysand had said.

He shook his head. “No. I’m done with your games Rhysand. Nothing you say is credible.” Rhysand smirked again, the never-ending arrogance rolling off him.

“I enjoying pleasing her in front of you, watching how jealous you would get. Do you enjoy the sound of her moans? Her cries?” He took a step closer, pure evil on his face. “Too bad she will never forget the way I touched her. How can you compare to the High Lord?”

Red flooded Azriel’s gaze and he was on top of his brother in a second. Rhysand was taken aback by the speed at which he moved, his shock allowing Azriel to pin him underneath his body as the Shadowsinger began punching his face in. “You. Are. Nothing. To. Her.” Each word was accented by his fists meeting the handsome face of the High Lord, rain and blood mixing together.

Azriel didn’t care if he killed him.

Rhysand was trying to use his power against Azriel, but the sheer force of his incessant pummeling was rendering the male unable to focus. Rhysand had the fleeting thought that he may die like this, at the hands of his own brother. Perhaps he deserved that.

A shout came from somewhere else and Azriel was ripped off of Rhysand, a voice that sounded a million miles away yelling at him. He was thrown to the ground as a blurry figure tended to Rhysand, seeing how bad his wounds are. Azriel wasn’t aware of the tears streaking down his face, drawing paths in the blood that had splattered from his brother. He didn’t feel the burning pain where his hands had split open to the bone, the force of his attack on Rhysand so extreme.

He sat there in the rain as Rhysand was carted away and the figure approached him. The far-away voice was calling his name, shaking him to get his attention. Even if he wanted to respond, he couldn’t. So there he sat, red staining his skin and rain soaking him to the bone.

“Oh, that’s right! I married her,” playing in his mind, over and over.

***

READER POV

You sat by the window, watching the sky outside. You felt that maybe the gods had chosen the sudden storm to match your emotions, tears running down your face in time with the rain. How could everything have gone so wrong so quickly? You knew better than to trust Rhysand’s words, you knew you never should’ve believed he might change. He was cold and cruel, and that was that. You felt like a fool for allowing hope to enter your mind.

And Azriel…your chest tightened as you thought about him. Something about him felt so right, so different from Rhysand. He had been the one you could wholly trust, until tonight. Your heart ached at his betrayal. How could he allow you to enter a marriage that he knew was wrong? The small voice in the back of your mind reminded you of Rhysands manipulation tactics, how good he was at getting you to do his bidding. You were certain he pulled the same to Azriel.

It didn’t matter, you told yourself. Azriel had been a part of this lie, the last five centuries all a lie. You were humiliated, hurt, and terribly sad. Rhysand had been your everything for so long. You were chalking up his behavior to what happened Under the Mountain, to his mating bond with Feyre. You didn’t think it would come out that he was always like this.

Your heart broke for your younger self, the innocent girl who was in love with her High Lord. Your heart broke for yourself now, for the love you thought you would find in Azriel. Only to be broken by finding out his part in the lie of your life.

Loud, incessant knocking broke you out of your thoughts. You ran to the door and opened it, assuming you would find Azriel. Instead Cassian stood in front of you, blood covering his hands. “You need to come with me. It’s Az.” Your tears dried instantly as you followed him out of the house. The blood…what had happened?

Cass lead you to where Azriel sat on his knees in the rain. You gasped at the bones showing through the skin on his hands, the blood covering his body. “He won’t move. I can’t get through to him. It’s like he’s disappeared inside himself. I found him out here, with Rhysand.” You looked sharply to Cassian, wondering what the High Lord had done this time. Cass shook his head.

“Azriel was on top of him, beating him to death. If I had arrived a few minutes later I don’t think Rhysand would have made it. I don’t know what happened, but you need to try to get him to talk. I know Rhys has been awful, but he can’t murder the High Lord.” You shuddered to think of the repercussions of that. As much as Rhysand probably deserved a good beating, his death would cause problems through all of Prythian. Likely, it would cause Azriel’s own death as well.

The thought made you sick.

You cautiously walked over to Azriel, kneeling in the wet grass in front of him. A chill ran through your body as you took in his destroyed hands, the mix of his and Rhysands blood on his body. “Az?” He didn’t respond. You moved to be in his line of sight, trying to get him to focus on you. You shoved down the feeling to jump at his empty eyes, instead pulling his damaged hands into yours. “What happened, my love?” Your voice was a whisper, a plea to the gods to help him.

You turned back to Cassian. “Bring me the healing kit from the cabin. I’ll try to stop his bleeding, see if that can help him.” You hope he didn’t notice the slight shake in your words. Your attention went back to Azriel while you waited for the supplies to fix his hands. “I know you’re in there, Az. Please, look at me.”

Silence.

Cassian was back, handing you the kit you had requested. You pulled out a needle and thread, the action too similar to just a few hours ago with Rhysand. How had everything gone so wrong in such a short amount of time?

You used the wet skirts of your gown to wipe the blood away the best you could before carefully stitching him up. “You did not cause the downfall of my marriage,” you began, needing to fill the horrible quiet. “I understand his manipulations all too well. As hurt as I am that you knew he was lying, I know how easy it is to be trapped in his games.”

You moved to the next hand. “In it all, I was always drawn to you. You were my closest friend, the breath of fresh air I needed. I wonder now if I was drawn to you for another reason. If my heart somehow knew I had chosen wrong, that you were the one for me.” A sad laugh escaped you. “How pathetic, isn’t it? You were there all along, and I didn’t see you.”

You finished the second hand, pulling bandages out to wrap over the stitches. “You’ve always been there for me, Az. My protector. And I was allowing my husband to torture you for 500 years.” You shook your head. “I should’ve seen it sooner.” You held his now-bandaged hands in your own, looking up at him.

You nearly jumped out of your skin to see him looking back.

“What i’m trying to say, Az, is I love you. I love you deeper than I ever thought possible. When i’m around you I feel complete, like part of my soul is home. It’s always been you, hasn’t it?” You gave his hands a gentle squeeze, hoping he was feeling the same.

He stared at you.

Your confidence faltered. “Please, say something. Anything.” You would rather he reject you than continue being this shell of a person. You needed to see that he was going to be okay.

You felt sick when he pulled his hands from yours, still not saying anything. You ducked your head, hot tears sliding down your face. Was it too much all at once? Maybe you shouldn’t have thrown that at him, when he was clearly in no state to receive it. You moved to stand, embarrassed by what had happened.

Hands gripped onto your waist, pulling you forcefully down to the Shadowsinger. You gasped in surprise, looking up at him. He dipped his head down to yours, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. He kissed you like it was the last thing he would do, the only thing he could do. You fisted your hands into his soaking shirt, welcoming the taste and feel of him. He pulled away once you were both gasping for air, resting his forehead on yours.

“I love you. I’ve always loved you,” he whispered, hazel eyes shining. “I never should have allowed him to even look at you.” The words came out in a growl, and you couldn’t deny the heat that flickered in you at his tone.

“It’s not your fault,” you soothed, raising a hand to cup his face. He leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering closed.

“It is. I could’ve stop it. Should’ve stopped him.”He moved his head, pressing a soft kiss to your hand. “I knew you were made for me.”

You ignored the skip in your heartbeat at his words, at the implication they held. Now was not the time to delve into that. “Come home with me, Azriel. Away from this place.” He nodded, eyes still closed at your touch. You wrapped your arms around him and began winnowing the two of you away to Velaris.

***

Rhysand healed perfectly fine. He went to Feyre the next day, and their mating bond was sealed. Of course, no one told you this. You knew when you woke up in pain, a searing burn traveling down your arm. You had raised it in fright, certain you had caught fire.

Instead, you watched as the marriage tattoo disappeared from your skin.

He had released you.

It didn’t bring you the joy you thought it would. Not when Azriel was still half of himself, a ghost in the dark. His shadows interacted with you more than he did. You brought him food and drink, all of which he left untouched.

Cassian returned once the business at the camp was over, concerned for his brother as well. “I’d never seen him in such an uncontrollable rage before,” he said, drinking the coffee you had made. “He was someone else in that moment.”

You sipped from your own mug, thinking over everything that had happened. “Azriel knew. That Rhys was only using me. I imagine 500 years of anger can turn a person irrational.” Cassian murmured his agreement, the two of you standing in silence.

You sighed, turning to the stove and setting your mug down. “Will you take this to him?” You asked Cass, handing him two bowls of soup you had just finished. “He won’t take anything from me. I think he’s too ashamed. Maybe he will eat with you?”

He took the warm bowls, nodding. “I’ll try.”

You gave him a grateful smile and started cleaning up the dishes you had used. Cassian left, determined to get Azriel to eat. You hummed as you cleaned the kitchen, lost in thought. You were concerned Azriel was going to wither away to nothing, in both body and mind. You couldn’t seem to get through to him. You were beginning to wonder if Cassian was able to when you heard a loud bang and shouting coming from down the hall.

You paused, looking towards the doorway. Azriel appeared in it, eyes wild. Cassian was a few feet behind, waving his arms at you. “Go! You need to go!” You didn’t understand why he was so panicked.

“What is wrong?” You asked, looking between the two males. Azriel moved closer, caging you against the counter behind you.

“Did you make the soup?” His voice was low, eyes dark. You nodded, unsure if he was upset with you or came to say it was the most delicious meal he ever had. “Why would you do that?”

You blinked. “You haven’t eaten. Why should I let you starve?” You looked behind him to Cassian, who seemed prepared for a fight.

Azriel leaned closer, nose dragging along your neck. “You really shouldn’t have done that,” he growled, breath fanning over your skin. You couldn’t help the way you arched into him, the way his touch drove you crazy.

“Why not?” Your voice was shaky, his hands coming to rest on your waist. Your eyes caught Cassians behind him again, shifting on his feet.

“Apparently,” he started, clearing his throat. “You two are mates.”

***

this may end up being slightly longer than i thought….but still close to the end!! i’m sorry this chapter took so long to get out!! please let me know what you think <3

Taglist: @amara-moonlight @tothestarsandwhateverend @onlyangellh @hnyclover @greenapplesaucepi @just-a-social-casualty-1 @heyyitsnat21 @mirandasidefics @bubybubsters @mybestfriendmademe @thaynarajejheje @brujitafantomatico @justdreamstars @thisblogisaboutabook @lees-chaotic-brain @abeltownshipslittlebitch @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @fxckmiup @its-sam-allgood @miluiel1 @nickishadow139 @hailqueenconquer @mika-no-sekai-blog @books-hlmc @stonerpersona @starsinyourseyes @meshellexplosionmurder @acourtofbatboydreams @captainsbaby @anuttellaa @val-writesstuff @isavanhoni

* crossed out blogs it wouldn’t let me tag! if i missed you this time please let me know if you’d like to be tagged :)

[danikamariewrites]

Hi! I’m in LOVE with your blog! Would you be able to write something with nessian x reader where the reader has just an awful no good day/week and maybe something small sets her off and they comfort her and calm her down? I have had a very bad week and I had a whole breakdown over dropping a pen lol and I wish they had been there to comfort me. Anyways, I hope you have an amazing day!!!

Just A Bad Day

Nessian x reader

a/n: They would be so sweet and caring, especially Cass my fav gentle giant☺️ also I’m so sorry this feels very boring/typical. I might take a break for a few days bc this slump is killing me.

warnings: slight angst

Slamming the front door an angry sigh escapes your lips. You head staright to your personal bedroom wanting space from your mates. If you saw anyone right now you might yell at them.

Not even bothering to take your boots off you flop on the bed face down. Grabbing your pillow you stuff your face into the feathery soft fabric letting out a blood curdling scream.

You screamed and screamed and screamed until there was no air left in your lungs. Until your throat burned. Throwing the pillow as hard as you could against the headboard you flop back down on the bed.

Why are people so difficult to deal with? Today made you never want to speak with the governors or the general public ever again. You don't know if you just weren't communicating properly or what. But everyone was stupid and deserves to have a bad day. Not you.

After an hour of laying in bed you decided your throat was tortured enough and that cold water was necessary. Making your way down the stairs Nesta and Cassian's mixed scents hit you. It didn't calm you or anger you. You felt nothing but the exhaustion slowly creeping into your bones.

Another sigh leaves your lips as you open the cup cabinet. Frowning, you realize the glass you want is on a higher than usual self. Not feeling like asking Cassian to get it for you you strech up on your tip toes, grasping at the edge of the shelf. As your mind wandered to Cassian's usual teasing remarks about your height you get angrier.

The glass was just out of reach. Just a hair's breadth away from your finger tip. Your nail finally catches on the glass, bringing it forward. You finally grasp it with between your fingers and pull it down.

The glass slips from between your pointer finger and thumb. Your other hand reacts thanks to your fae reflexes, landing safely in your palm. You turn on your heel a little too quickly, sending the glass flying out of your grasp. It hits the wall shattering far too loudly.

Your hands go to cover your ears instantly. Tears pricking your eyes. You try to tune out the muffled sounds of Cassian and Nesta’s worried voices followed by their footsteps. Your face quickly contorted in anger. Angry at yourself. At the fucking glass. At your mates.

Your fingers tug at your hair in frustration. Your eyes are so clouded by tears you don’t even see Cassian in front of you. He gently takes your hands in his large ones. Slightly pressing his thumbs into your palms to lessen the death grip on the roots of your hair.

“Hey,” he coos, “what’s going on sweet pea?” You don’t look at him. Keeping your eyes down so you don’t break at the look of pity on their faces. Nesta hooks a finger under your chin, pulling your face up to look at them. The sad frowns on their lips broke you. The last thing you wanted to do today was upset or disappoint your mates.

Nesta took in a sharp breath at the projection of your feelings through the bond. “Oh, sweetheart. We’re not upset with you at all.” She wraps her arms tightly around your shoulders, swaying you gently. At Nesta’s loving embrace you break down. Sobs shaking your body.

Cassian smoothed your hair talking you through your tears. “I’m sorry.” You choked out repeatedly through your sobs. After hearing enough Cassian pulls you into his arms to carry you upstairs. Sitting you in his lap you continue to cry into his chest.

Nesta finally joins she has the glass of ice water you’ve been dying for. Just like Cassian taught her Nesta began massaging the pressure point on the back of your neck. She wanted to do everything to prevent your eventual headache.

When your tears finally stopped you took deep shaky breaths. They were coming too fast making the simple task difficult. Cassian laid you flat on the sheets to give you space. “Slow down, y/n. In for five and out for five.” He began to breathe with you until you finally calmed down. “Thank you,” you whisper.

You grabbed their hands so they can hold you up. Nesta hands you the water which you immediately gulp down. The cool liquid soothing your throat. Once it was empty Nesta took it from your hand. You lean into Cassian, resting your hand against his chest. Your fingers toy with the old fabric of his shirt to ground you.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Nesta coos. You shake your head mumbling, “Just a bad day.” “Do you want to talk about it?” You sniffle and shake your head. “No. That cry was good enough, honestly.” A short humorless laugh escapes your lips. Cassian kisses the top of your head letting out a small hum in answer. “Let’s get you some dinner and relax, yeah?” You nod again. Cassian lifts you again, carrying you downstairs.

[highlordofkrypton]

FIC SUMMARY: An alternate universe fic that takes place after Tamlin's family is murdered by another High Lord. Beron Vanserra has always kept an eye out for Tamlin; he has always been useful and entertaining. While he helps to rebuild the Spring Court, they welcome an unwelcome refugee from the human realm: Elain Archeron.

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Old man yells at clouds.

In honour of @polysjmweek, I've updated my Tamlin x Beron x Elain fic. This chapter fit so perfectly for Who's Court is it Anyway?

TWs: Depression, suicide, threats of violence and Beron being a misogynist.

TAGS: @olenvasynyt guess who's back!!

READ ON AO3 OR BELOW THE CUT.

“Go away.”

“I will not.”

Elain shuffles away, increasing the sounds of her sweeping in hopes of drowning out the irritating shade looming behind her. The Faerie is loud and obnoxious. He has complaints for every single step of the way.

“I will throw you out if you refuse to go peacefully.”

Another minute, another threat. She wonders how long he can go for, and what variety of promised danger he can come up with. Surely, he’ll give up eventually. Then again, Elain ponders the quite tangible possibility that he could complain forever and simply wait out her mortal lifetime. That won’t do.

At the very least, her furry fellows have come to her aid. They give her the tools she needs to begin her mission to clean up, and they are more than happy to help her accomplish it. The fox holds the sweeping tray, and the bushy-tailed squirrel wiggles its but to push the dust into it. The owl with eyes made of light pulls ribbons of curtain back on their rods, and straightens frames hung high for no other creatures can reach these heights. The raccoon is the only one who hasn’t taken up arms to rebuild its home. Instead, it contemplates the merits of biting this angry fae’s ankles. In its own way, Elain still considers this leagues more helpful than the incessant complaining.

The male opens his mouth and Elain turns on her heel. She clutches the broom to her chest and manages her best impression of her elder sister before he can say anything.

“Who is the head of this household?” Her voice is closer to a chirp, but she keeps her brow furrowed in a disapproving scowl. “Is this your manor?”

The Lord of Sunlight, as she has named him in her mind, looks aghast. For a moment, he seems to reject the idea of ruling over this rubble, but thinks better of it. “I am the current regent until its proper owner has time to… gather himself.”

“Look at this mess! Are you not ashamed to leave this home in shambles?” Elain shoves the broom into his chest, half bracing herself of fiery retaliation that does not come. “Even the animals are helping.”

“Are you saying that I am no better than an animal?” He bares his teeth.

“No! You’re worse! Now, if you want to prove that you’re better, help.” 

Her heart hammers in her chest, and her cheeks flush. Elain has never been so demanding in her life, much less towards someone of seemingly higher status. The Archeron family has lost everything, but the one thing her sisters taught her is that no one can take away their dignity. They care for their worn down shack with pride, and wear their hand-me-downs with their heads high. This manor may not be hers, but it belongs to someone, and if her assumptions are right, that someone is in pain and deserves dignity as well. She is nervous about retaliation, but she holds his amber gaze in hers. Feyre and Nesta would be proud—after the initial shock, of course.

“I don’t have to prove anything to you, mortal. You do not belong here.”

“Perhaps not,” she says, finding a wicker basket and picking up larger pieces of shattered ceramic. She places them on the towel inside her basket. It’ll be easier to toss out this way. “But I will not leave until we have restored some sense into this place. Ouch!”

A hiss between fangs, and the broom clatters to the floor. “Idiot woman,” the Lord of Sunshine snaps, kneeling by her side. “Do you humans forget how fragile you are? Picking up shards with your flimsy fingers.” He takes her hand in hers, staring at the blood beading on her fingertip from the small cut there. With a single motion, the pieces on the floor burn to ash and he motions to the creatures to clean up.

“I’m fine,” Elain snatches her fingers back. “You care a lot for someone who wishes to throw me out forcefully.”

When he smiles, it’s a sinister, dangerous thing; his smile elicits the urge to run within her, like a predator looking down on easy, easy prey.

“Of course, I should be the one to break you into little pieces and scatter you at the Wall as a cautionary tale to your kin. I would not let some inanimate object rob me of that pleasure.”

“You are vile!”

“And you are nothing but a human breeding bitch.”

In the entirety of her life, all twenty-two years, Elain has never heard something so horrible uttered to her. She has heard of the punishment of criminals in the village square or the death of hunters when they wander too close to the North, but all of those tales were second hand and filtered for her delicate ears. Still, she will not balk in the face of danger. Instead, she tears a piece of her already ruined nightgown and ties it around her finger without the help of this villain. She has done it many times before for her little sister’s cuts and bruises, and she can bear the small prick of pain. Elain has pricked her fingers countless times while sewing her family’s clothes back together.

He laughs at her bravery, but Archerons are nothing if not steadfast. Elain huffs, and tips her chin up.

“You are tasked with cleaning this hall, and I will make sure the kitchen is in order.”

“You do not order me around, mortal.”

“Then perhaps this house deserves to have a more reliable regent!” She turns on her heel, stealing the last word in this conversation. She prays that he will not follow.

***

Humans are strange. Insane. They lack self-preservation and there is a chance that they do not live in this reality. In what world does a High Lord , much less one of Beron’s lineage, bend down to a mortal? She does not know their ways; her methods are eternally slow and so… menial. He can barely remember a time when he had human servants. His were tasked with staying out of sight, they made no sound and were perfectly absent from his world. Perhaps Beron was simply too high in rank to ever need to cross paths with a filthy mortal, or perhaps humans have nurtured too much foolish pride without the threat of something bigger, better and stronger to keep them in line.

He glares at her back, pondering the merits of setting her aflame with a mere thought. Her white nightgown would spark at the hem, flaring up to where it hugs her hips and where the rain has not-quite dried, revealing to him the similarities between human women and faeries. The shape is the same, though more curvaceous than lithe. Would it take longer for fire to devour the soft lines of her body? Would it swallow her thick curls of hair in an instant? With a mouth like hers, oh, he thinks he could make her sing.

The broom snaps in his hands. “She is stupid,” he laments to the crowd of vermin that were… just here? Did they all follow her? “Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.”

Beron considers summoning his staff here for a moment, but he cannot—he will not—allow anyone to witness the weakness displayed here. His generals will mount a takeover, insisting that the Autumn Count can only benefit from the expansion of their borders. They will see Tamlin’s pain and swarm like vultures, just the way he trained them to. Stupid, stupid , he berates himself while pinching the bridge of his nose.

Now, if only he could recall the spellweaving lessons he’d had when he was nothing more than a fireling. A simple cleaning enchantment, anyone can do that, can’t they?

“Rain, rain, before you go away, come and wash away this decay,” Beron drones, moving with barely-remembered rune signs to bid the magic of this Court to obey him.

Nothing happens.

For a long moment.

A small rumble picks up and windows begin to tremble. Lightning booms and shatters the windows, flooding the hall with rain and storm. It soaks him to the bone, and he can barely see clearly, no matter how many times he wipes his eyes.

“I didn’t mean that fucking literally! ” Beron shouts at the clouds. He hates this court. He really does.

***

The chaos from downstairs reaches him. His ears twitch involuntarily, listening to life bloom within the walls of his manor. It hurts, like a sharp knife twisted in his heart and his gut, to see how the world continues without them : without his mother who curated this home with precious things of joy and luxury, each one containing a memory within them—each one shattering audibly the night his heart was broken without him—, without his brother who lived in controlled chaos of healing and research, leaving books lining every surface of the manor without a care and without his other brother who loved him in quiet ways that only he could understand beneath that warrior’s exterior. As for his father… For all the things that his father was, Tamlin misses him too.

Their bodies are beginning to show signs of death. Perfumes fade, and the blood dries, giving way to other odours. He should bury them, but he cannot bring himself to. He cannot bring himself to move or to care about what happens next; he just wants to be left alone. Maybe if he closes his eyes, the chaos in the basement will go away.

Boom , and a crash of glass raining on the ground.

Tamlin yearns to rot with his family, but whatever is going on downstairs is ruining the precious tomb that his father built. He cannot let the desecration go, but this will be the last thing he does. He will cast them out, preserve his family’s final memory and die with them.

***

Beron is wet, and he bristles like a cat who abhors being wet. Rather than fur standing on end, warmth bursts from him, drying his borrowed clothes and setting things right again. His auburn hair puffs up from the humidity, turning neat, cropped curls into a rounded tuft of hair. While the enchantment backfired (horribly), the Hall is pristine. The water swept away all the debris and carried it right out the broken front doors. All that is left is to do is to dry the curtains and the rugs—

“Get out.”

He knows that voice anywhere, except the roughness that lines his tone is different than the one he’s used to. Beron turns on his heel, and tries to smile. (It turns into a baring of teeth, he knows no delicate ways.) He spreads his hands out to welcome him.

“Good, you’re up. We have much to do.”

“Get out.” 

Tamlin’s voice rises, and it trembles with pain? Anger? Grief? All unimportant feelings to the task at hand, which is strengthening his Court before the other lords catch wind of this or worse, the Night Court returns.

“You need help, Tamlin. I understand something terrible has happened to you.” Beron knows that feeling. He truly does. The ways of the Autumn Court decree that he kill all other potential heirs, or competitors to the seat of the High Lord if he wanted to ascend. Beron killed his father, his sister and her husband. Something snapped within him when he broke them, but he moved on. Tamlin will too. The Spring Lord is not worth losing.

He’s a good ally , Beron insists to himself.

A strong Lord, he is forced to admit.

It’s the sex. Yes, that must be it.

Those are the only reasons why he is trying so hard, so he stretches his patience as far as it can go.

“Let me get rid of the human, and if you need time, I will watch over your court until you are better. Do not let yourself waste away for too long, you’ll get in the habit of,” Beron chooses his words carefully and waves his hand. “Rotting.”

“Get out!” Tamlin roars with barely contained power, rattling the entire manor. “Get out of my lands! Get away from me! Leave and never come back.”

“Hmm, no.”

Rage spills freely from Tamlin, and Beron shifts from petulant to high alert. He didn’t think—he didn’t realize the inheritance the Spring Son was left with. Celyddon had always spoken of his youngest as a weakling, lacking the drive of his eldest and the clear brilliance of his second son. Tamlin was a baby in his eyes that needed coddling and constant direction. He belittled him time and time again. Beron knew he was wrong. He knew that Tamlin was the best of the three, but he simply lacked the motivation to display his prowess.

Goddess , he swears, barely dodging the swipe of Tamlin’s claws, already shifting towards his beastly form. His aura is oppressive, making it hard for Beron to breathe in his presence. That power needs to be leashed.

To think, Tamlin’s predecessor was one of the fiercest warmongers in Prythian—the reason why Hybern lasted so long against the droves of the Night Court—and yet, Beron sees how clearly Tamlin surpasses him. Tamlin’s father hadn’t been dismissive, he’d been afraid , just like every High Lord in the face of their own sons.

Another attempt to strike him, and Beron is forced to winnow across the room, a blazing ball of fire.

“If I leave, you will be alone. No one will protect you. They will come and take your Court!”

“I don’t care!”

One day, Beron will understand why he is surrounded by stupidity, but until then, he will have to counter Tamlin’s stubbornness with his own reasonable determination. 

“Then, give me your Court!”

Tamlin pauses, looking at Beron for an eternal moment. He seems to weigh the option. “Alright.”

“Alright?”

“The Spring Court is yours. I don’t care. Just leave me alone.”

Beron stills, and feels the way his heart picks up. Will he have to kill his ally? Right here? Right now? Worse, will Tamlin kill himself and hope that the transfer of power obeys his wishes? Beron isn’t… ready for that. He doesn’t want that.

“Wait,” he chokes out. “Just give me time. Temporary regency while I figure out what should be done here.”

Tamlin waves his hand, wanting to be left out of it. “Leave me alone. Leave my mother’s things the way she left them.” He is tired, and his words weigh heavy on all those who hear it, even the little mortal mouse who’s suddenly made her way back from the kitchens.

[cerseimikaelson]

Episode 2: Wakeup Call [AO3]

Athena wasn't just a morning person.

She was the morning person.

While the passage of time wasn't technically important to immortals, not even they could afford to entirely dismiss the importance of a structured routine.

Athena had that down to the T.

Wake up at dawn. Exercise. Bathe. Get ready. Eat protein and drink fluids. Check on the news. Read her to do list again to make sure she didn't forget to write anything down.

The goddess of wisdom loved the quiet atmosphere of the morning, particularly those rare times the palace wasn't filled with the sound of steps and shouts from her fellow deities. It was the best time to work peacefully, and Athena took advantage of it to the fullest.

Out of all the challenges Athena considered would come with having a roommate (even if said roommate was her wayward daughter) a clash of routines just hadn't occurred to her.

Her first mistake. 

There. Athena admitted it. 

Viola just. Wouldn't. Wake. Up. 

Athena was seriously starting to think the girl was physically incapable of getting up before 8AM. 

Even though such a thing was impossible.

Living with Viola was a test to her sanity. 

Now, the first time it had happened, Athena had honestly thought the girl was ill. What other reasons would a person have for staying in bed this late? 

When the clock had struck 10AM, Athena had walked into the girl's room. Not to check on her, mind you, but she supposed ensuring Viola was breathing and hadn't chocked or something fell under the whole "rebuilding the relationships between Olympus and Faerie" thing.

Or whatever the terms of the treaty that they still wouldn't let her read were. The audacity of some people.

The Fair Folk were serious about their contracts. Athena was almost impressed.

Back to the demon.

So imagine her surprise when Athena had walked in to find Viola sprawled on the four poster like a star fish, dead to the world and not even stirring when Athena had cleared her throat.

Thrice!!

Eventually, she had to resort to more drastic measures.

Apologies to the startled servants that her furious yelling might have unsettled a bit.

"Wow, wow, easy!" Ares had walked in just as Athena was preparing to refill the bucket of water. 

Viola, who looked like a drowned cat with strands of auburn hair plastered on her face, bristled.

"What are you doing here?" Athena asked disdainfully, mind still focused on the task at hand.

"You do realize they can hear you on the other side of Olympus, right?" Ares raised a brow. "Zeus sent me to make sure you weren't murdering the girl. Apparently the Fae will be less than pleased. Try not to start a war over a wakeup call, will ya?"

His shit eating grin told Athena he was enjoying this. 

Athena tossed the bucket at this head (he caught it) and stalked out of the room, ignoring the girl's furious protests about her wet nightclothes. 

Which brought us to today. Three full weeks after that mortifying incident.

Things were... gradually improving. 

The same way snails gradually moved.

Athena had woken up at 5AM as per usual, gone for a run because there was absolutely no one on the streets of Olympus except a trio of bleary-eyed partygoers that didn't even notice her, gone through three chapters of her book and eaten breakfast in the community hall of the pantheon.

Enough was enough.

With a determined set to her jaw, Athena dabbed her lips, straightened her posture and got up from the table. 

"Where are you going in such a hurry?" Hermes asked Athena as she stalked past him. The messenger god was looking rather windswept already, as if he had spent several hours cloud hopping in his winged sandals- or just skipped his morning Starbucks.

"I have to go wake up my demon." Athena responded briskly without even bothering to slow down. 

Hermes, to his credit, didn't even blink. Then again, of all the animals in the cosmos he could have chosen as his pets, Hermes had chosen the talking, sentient, perpetually hungry snakes. He had seen some shit.

"Good luck with that." He didn't outright scoff, but it was a close thing. "Try to tone the yelling down this time, okay? We don't need the sentries thinking we're being attacked and raising another alarm."

No, they really didn't. It had taken forever for Athena to explain there was no need for evacuation, surrender or a strike back against whoever imaginary foe.

"I'll do my best."

"Don't pour another bucket of icy water on her either."

"Well, so far she's stayed true to her name. I might exorcise her."

If it got the demon child out of bed, Athena was willing to forgo the minor detail about it being a Christian technique. 

Gods above, her life was unravelling.

Predictably, when Athena got to her own private palace, it was silent as a tomb.

"Have you heard anything from the Lady Viola this morning?" Athena asked a servant who was dutifully dusting the bookshelves.

The nymph glanced at the clock and turned to her with a raised brow as if the question was utterly ridiculous.

"I am afraid not, my Lady." 

The nymph wasn't quite smiling, but her cornflower blue eyes twinkled with a hint of amusement.

"Of course not." Athena muttered under her breath. "Thank you, you may go back to work now." 

If the nymph put on a pair of earplugs as Athena was leaving the room, it was discreet enough that the goddess could pretend not to notice. 

Steeling herself, she gave an experimental knock on the girl's door, just in case she was awake and still getting dressed. 

No such luck.

Athena walked in. The room was pitch black and smelled faintly of the cookie dough aroma that seemed to follow the girl everywhere. Viola was buried underneath a veritable mountain of blankets, wrapped like a burrito or a homeless kitten.

Athena took a deep breath, preparing her vocal cords.

She should invest in a honk.

"Get your hide out of bed lazybones, it's already 9AM!" she shouted.

Viola reached blindly for the nearest pillow and threw it in the general direction of her voice. Athena avoided the projectile with ease. 

"Viola!" she barked. "Get up this instant!" 

The motionless lump on the bed then proceeded to tug the covers above a mass of tangled auburn hair. 

Athena felt her eye twitch. 

"You have duties and studies to attend to! If you think you can laze about in bed languishing the day away under my roof you are very much mistaken!" she shouted.

"Geez, you woke up today and chose violence, huh?" Viola's groggy voice reached her ears, still rough with sleep. 

Athena mentally counted to five.

"I have little time or patience for your theatrics. It's bad enough I have to waste precious time to get you out of bed every morning."

"Then go away and leave me be. Problem solved." Viola finally cracked a grey eye open, glaring at Athena.

"I don't think so. I expect you to adhere by my rules while staying under my roof."

Viola huffed at that grumbling something akin to "as if I want to be under your roof".

One, two, three, four, five.

"If you don't get up this instant-"

"Jesus Christ, don't get your feathers in a twist!" Viola shouted, rubbing her eyes and finally tossing the covers off her. "I am up, okay?" 

Athena watched with an unreadable expression as the girl attempted to collect herself. She didn't bother with a robe or slippers (if those feathery heeled things could even be called that) but made a beeline for the fancy coffee machine stashed in the corner of the room, jumping over a pile of clothes on the way.

"First item on the agenda is to clean up in here. You've turned this room into a battlefield." Athena wrinkled her nose.

"Your closets are fucking tiny. They only fit about half my stuff!" Viola protested as she punched buttons on the machine.

That actually made Athena pause.

The closet was the same size as the one she had in her own room, and Athena was pretty sure some of her own selves were empty despite putting all her garments in the same closet regardless of season.

"Are you serious?" she asked incredulously. "How many clothes do you own?"

Viola shook her head at her. 

"Not all of us are content to go out in 1730s fashion. When was the last time you went shopping?" 

Athena opened her mouth to deliver a scratching retort (something about at least not dressing like she belonged in a Moulin Rouge production) but it suddenly felt too loaded. 

Viola, evidently pleased that she had gotten the last word, (or so she thought) poured herself a generous cup of coffee, reaching for the packaged sugar.

At the fourth one, Athena raised an inquisitive eyebrow. 

The girl seemed to sense it. 

"Say something about my caffeine intake and I will test your immortality." she growled, hackles raised. 

The eyebrow went higher, but Athena wisely refrained from commenting. 

"Duly noted." she said drily. "How do you expect to be a productive member of this household if you can't set a manageable sleeping schedule?" 

"A: Who said I have to be productive? B: Some people are night owls." Viola cackled at the pun.

"A: I did. B: Hilarious." Athena said, unimpressed to a fault.

"Whatever, Feathers." Viola rolled her eyes. Athena's own (and they were bloody identical, damn it all to the Fields of Punishment) twitched again. This insolent child would be the reason she developed anger issues.

Viola took another sip of coffee that must have scalded her throat. 

"So, is there a particular reason you dragged me out of bed first thing in the morning? Have special tortures planned for me?"

"You're acting as though I am a slave driver." Athena rolled her own eyes at the dramatics. "Wash up, get dressed, then join me for training." 

Viola looked up at that.

"I am training with you?" 

"Did you think I was going to let you frolic about the entire year?" 

"Frolic." Viola mouthed to herself, then shook her head. "But you seriously want to train with me?" 

"What did I just say?" 

"No, I heard. What happens when I win?"

Athena actually laughed out loud at that.

"The Underworld freezes over. Because you won't win."

The girl's eyes flashed with a competitive glimmer Athena knew all too well. 

"You do realize I trained with the Court's knights back in Faerie, right? The elite squads that protect the royals. Those guys' whole brand is that they can kick anyone's ass." Viola said. 

"You do realize I am the goddess of wisdom, war tactics and strategical thinking, right?" Athena retorted in the same tone. 

"You can still go down." Viola looked definitely awake now. "As long as someone finds your weak spot."

"Even if that were the case, that someone won't be you."

Viola smirked, slow and devilish.

"Game on, Feathers." 

See you for next week's Episode 3: Period Cravings

Tagging so nobody gets left behind: @sarnai4, @firinniee, @greekmythstan, @rhmis-user-2020,

@i-ship-bullshit-2020, @mushroom-the-trauma, @saint-michael-the-archangel

[winterwriterstudios]

The Prince And The Frog (Malyuu ver.)

Pairing: Malleus x Yuu (From Twisted Wonderland)

Inspo: https://www.tumblr.com/bi-panicatthedisco‘s comment under https://www.tumblr.com/skyerooodraws/749572968954413056, Tiana’s frog form

Notes: Not a great writer. Not truly accurate to the game nor the manga nor the book. Yuu uses they/them pronouns. Also, Yuu takes inspiration from Tiana (I just imagine them with the accent). Plus, I did not proof read, so please pardon errors

Prompt: Malleus never was alone in the garden.

———————————-

Malleus absolutely hated when Lilia had to go on trips. It meant he would be all alone in the castle garden, playing with no one.

Today was no different. It was just him and his newly bought golden ball, gifted by Lilia before he left. No one, not even the gardeners were in the garden. Just him, alone.

He looked around for maybe any animal that would catch his interest, long enough to distract him, but alas, even the animals seemed to fear him as much as the fae.

No annoying chirping of the birds or the prominent wildlife that were allowed to stay in the gardens. Not even a grasshopper or ant was nearby.

Feeling utterly defeated, Malleus threw the ball as far as he could, not caring where it landed. He then fell to the ground, his eyes welled up with tears. He didn’t care enough to wipe them away, after all, no one was around to notice.

The weather seemed to act according to the poor prince’s emotions. The clouds got darker and suddenly started to merge with one another, chasing the sun away and casting a shadow on the whole castle.

The garden seemed darker, more hostile than it did before to the fae prince. The trees seem to bear wicked grins and the wind sounded like whispers, the same whispers that plagued the castle every day.

“Why won’t anyone play with me? I-I have done nothing wrong! I have been a good prince like-like in all the stories! All I want is a single friend! Please!”

His desperate cries remained unanswered, though. The wind only lived up its speed and droplets of water fell from the sky, matching the tears that spilled from his eyes.

It all seemed to come to a halt when the golden ball, now muddy, rolled to his knees and a small, caring voice said, “Well, if it’s a friend you want, then it’s a friend you’ll have!”

Malleus’ head immediately snapped up, in search of this voice.

“Down here!”

Lo and behold, the voice belonged to no other than a frog.

Malleus wiped his tears away, sniffling a bit. “R-Really? You will be my friend?” His voice was soft, not wanting to scare the friendly frog away.

“’Course I will! My mama always said that I should be making more friends, anyway! I’m Yuu! And you are?” The frog comically held out its hand, still beaming at the young fae.

As the clouds faded away, Malleus smiled, giving the frog a gentle handshake. “I am Malleus. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Yuu!”

———————————-

From that day on, Malleus and his frog friend were inseparable. They’d play together, take long walks around the castle together and sometimes Yuu would dine with Malleus when no one else was around.

Even when Malleus was older, he never forgot Yuu. In fact, he just grew more attached to the frog.

“Yuu! Yuu! I brought you grapes! The red, seedless ones! And I brought a lot of berries, too!”

It was a very queer sight to see the noble prince of Briar Valley carrying a basket while yelling out to the garden.

It was an even funnier sight to see a frog suddenly jump on him and land on his hair, right in between his horns.

“Good afternoon, dear! Are you doing as great as you are looking?”

The melodic laughter of Malleus made Yuu smile even more. Jumping off his hair and back into the grass, they laughed along with him.

“I am doing wonderfully, now that you are here, Yuu. You know I always love the time we spend together,” he replied, sitting on the grass, in front of the frog.

Yuu croaked, before their tongue extended, landing on a grape in the basket and bringing it back into their mouth. They hummed, satisfied as they moved closer to the basket.

“Me too! It’s kinda lonely when you’re not around! I mean, the other frogs are great, and the tadpoles are just adorable, but nothing beats hanging out with you!” Their smile was unwavering as they helped themselves to more grapes in the basket.

Those words warmed Malleus’ heart more than it should. It was always nice knowing that his best friend loved him as much as he loved them.

The conversation continued, thought it was mostly just Malleus ranting about his day while Yuu listened and gave him helpful tips and advice. Both enjoyed hearing the other’s voice and just being in the other’s presence.

Soon, the basket was empty and the afternoon came to an end as the sun started to set.

“Well, that’s sad! The sun’s coming down!” Yuu pointed own, a frown on their face.

Malleus nodded, disheartened. He didn’t know why days with Yuu always seemed too short to be actual days. If only Yuu could spend the nights with him, as well.

Wait.

“Yuu? Would you like to stay the night in the castle?”

“Ooh! Like a sleepover?”

“A what?”

———————————-

“And that’s why I NEVER eat flies!”

Malleus wiped away the tears at the corner of his eyes, his large grin basically lightning up the dimly lighted room. Yuu was sitting in front of him, on a pinecone on top of his king-sized bed.

Pinecones were tangled up in Malleus’s lovely dark hair, acting as makeshift curls, due to Yuu’s insistence (though, they did not need to beg much, as Malleus was willing to do anything to make their first ‘sleepover’ memorable) and his smile took up half of his face as he intently stared at his best friend.

“You do have a lot of interesting stories, Yuu,” he spoke, “I assume you have adventures everyday in the garden, when I’m not around.” Malleus brushed off his comment as a joke, even though he was a bit saddened by this realization.

Sometimes, he’d debate permanently turning himself into a frog so that he could have more adventures with Yuu and their friends, but then he’d remember his family and Lilia and would decide against it. But that did not stop him from daydreaming.

“Aww! Don’t feel left out, Mal’! I tell the boys back at the pond about ALL the things we do, and they are always super jealous!” Yuu tried to cheer him up, instantly catching on to his change in demeanor.

Malleus perked up at that, seeming pleased, until he remembered something, “I hope your stories aren’t the more embarrassing ones that you so fondly remember, though.”

Yuu, feeling nervous, suddenly croaked. “Uh…would ya look at the tone! You,” they pointed at Malleus with an innocent smile, “should be heading to bed to rest that pretty little head of yours!”

Understanding that his reputation to the garden creatures is probably already ruined beyond repair, Malleus simply nodded. “Where will you sleep?” He asked, curiously. Malleus didn’t exactly have a bed fit for a frog in his room, nor did he know how Yuu liked sleeping.

“Oh, I could sleep on a drawer! Wouldn’t want you to deal with a frog on your bed!” Yuu said, hopping towards the drawer that was next to Malleus’ bed.

Malleus was able to catch them, before they landed on the drawer, though. “I wouldn’t be dealing with any frog on my bed. It would be you, my beastie.”

The sincerity of his words made Yuu’s heart warm, and they wished they were finally a fae, once more, so they could give Malleus a big hug, but all they could was laugh. The curse was still as strong as ever, and they couldn’t even dream of breaking it. Or burdening Malleus with that knowledge.

“Whatever you say, Mal-Mal,” Yuu smiled, sadly at him, taking in Malleus in all his pinecone haired glory, “Whatever you say…”

———————————-

Yuu yawned, opening their eyes to meet Malleus’ still sleeping ones. They got off the bed and groggily made their way to the window to open it, since they felt that the place was a bit stuffy.

Then, they tripped over their own two feet. They hissed in pain, cursing as they struggled to help themselves up. “Since when was I this heavy?” They muttered, holding on to the edge of the bed as they stood tall.

Their curses soon turned q into silence as they noticed how ethereal Malleus looked while he slept, even with those ridiculous pine ones in his hair. Yuu chuckled, before wobbly making their way to the window, grabbing onto any piece of sturdy furniture they could.

Surprisingly, Malleus failed to wake up from the noise they were making, and continued to slumber away. Yuu was thankful for this, as they reached the window. They did not want to interrupt the prince’s sleep schedule after all.

“Huh?”

Everything seemed to slow down as they came face to face with their reflection on the window.

They brought a hand to their face, before immediately retracting it back after noticing that it was no longer green. The shock of the sudden shift in appearance made Yuu fall down, breathing heavily.

Yuu always imagined this moment, thinking about how they’d react. And in every possible scenario they made up in their head, they would laugh or cry with joy, thanking the great seven for everything.

But, no.

They don’t know why, but they screamed.

Incorrect Quotes

Lilia: I can’t wait to see your best friend, Malleus!

Yuu: Why, hello, handsome!

Lilia, highly amused: Is that a talking frog?

Silver: How did you and the young master meet?

Yuu: Oh, well, when we were younger, he threw a golden ball at me.

Sebek, telling Ace off: HOW DARE YOU RUIN THE NAME OF THE G—

Yuu, enters: Heya, Croco!

Sebek, hugging Ace: And that is why I cherish you, as a friend!

Leona, insultingly: You smell like a lake.

Yuu: Actually, it’s a pond!

Floyd: I’m going to call you, Frog-chan!

Yuu: Uncreative! Next!

Yuu, with Riddle: If being a teenage mom is a crime, then I’m innocent, this is my short friend.

Rook: I know what you are, Mademoiselle du lac.

Yuu: He’s going to say frog…

Rook: They’re definitely married to Roi des dragons.

Jamil: I swear to the great seven, that I’ll kill that octopus!!

Yuu: That’s not very bonvita of ya, Jam-Jam!

Idia: Alright, it’s been 6 months. Let’s see your progress.

Yuu, in front of a lot of laptops: I have made an entire mobile game which is so addictive that people CANNOT stop playing, it has risen to the top of the charts and become the most popular game on the internet. Next, I’m planning on invading Mars.

Idia: Good, good. Malleus?

Malleus, in front of an old computer, holding a rat: I finally located the mouse.

Idia: *unholy screaming

Rollo, exists:

Yuu, rofl: LOOK AT THE TOP OF HIS HEAD!!!!

[thethreefaes]

~Denying Prophesies~

(An Epic AU short story inspired by an rp with @bigidiotenergytm )

"Not bad! Not bad at all, kid!" Rose praised as she and Astyanax trained. The now young man scoffed and pushed her hand away as she ruffled his hair.

"I'm eighteen. I'm not a kid anymore, Aunt Rose." He puffed out his chest proudly only for her to poke him.

"Oh how could I forget? After that big party and coming of age speech your father gave." Odysseus had looked close to bawling his eyes out as he praised and congratulated his son. So much so that Penelope was seen holding him after. And...well. The fae kinda understood. It was a miracle after everything they'd gone through that the child lived to his eighteenth year.

That didn't stop Lyra and her from giggling at the king and the embarrassed prince. Even Telemachus got in on the teasing. Pretending to cry as he recounted finding out he had a little brother. Asty had been bright red for hours. Even getting into a "fight" with Tele that ended with them wrestling on the floor until their father broke it up with a hug.

"Sorry. But even if ya get ta a hundred ya will always be a kid to me." Rose smiled at the young man. Just then, a shout was heard in the distance. Coming from the palace. Asty smirked knowing that yell.

"I think your husband needs help with your hell spawn." He watched as the fae took off fly.

"Be back before dark, kid!" She called back before disappearing down the hill side. Asty shook his head and picked up his sword. Going through the movements again. Strong swings and jabs unlike his father and brother. He wasn't as fast and agile as them but he had power behind his attacks.

Thunder sounded in the distance but he paid it no mind. That was, until the clouds began to take shape. Asty took a step back as the form of Zeus appeared before him. Zeus... Lyra had warned him of the god.

"If Zeus ever appears before you, be wary. He tries to control fates. Remember, you are Astyanax and Aodhan. You choose your fate. No one else. Not even gods."

His aunt's warning in mind, he watched as the god came closer. Eyeing the young man.

"Astyanax, do you know that you live amongst the man who killed your father?" Zeus mocked.

"My father is Odysseus, king of Ithaca. And he lives." Asty answered. He knew the king wasn't his birth father, but he might as well be. Zeus, however saw differently.

"No. You are the son of Prince Hector. Your kingdom was Troy. And Odysseus and his men slaughtered your people. He killed your father." The God King circled the human as the information sank in. Asty felt torn as the god spoke. Then Zeus placed a hand on his shoulder and anger filled his veins. Anger at Odysseus for lying to him. For the slaughter of his family....

Wait

No. Odysseus never lied to him. The king even asked if he'd wanted to know about his parents.

"Not really. You and Penelope are my parents. And everyone here is my family. What would it matter?" He'd figured they had been victims of the war and Odysseus spared him and saved him

Zeus could see the internal struggle in the human's eyes. A pleased grin formed as his grip tightened on Asty's shoulder. The king of Ithaca would not escape the prophecy he ignored all those years ago.

"He took you from your home. Has pretended to care for you to change a prophecy. But we know better, don't we Prince of Troy? You can burn his house and throne in revenge for what he's done."

Astyanax's eyes were glazing over. Zeus's words felt like they were in his head. What Odysseus had done? What had he done? He protected his. Raised him... was it all a lie?

"Prophecy?" he asked. Gaze going to the Thunder God.

"All those years ago, he was warned that if he let you live, the gods would tell you the truth. Tell you of his lies and false caring." Zeus backed away and watched as the rage began to fester in the prince.

And fester is did. Asty felt like he couldn't control it. It was consuming him. A hate and rage to go after Odysseus...

No

Not Odysseus. His father. Odysseus was his father. And he... he was not just Astyanax. He was also Aodhan. And Aodhan would not be controlled by the gods. He took as deep breath and backed away from Zeus.

"No" One word filled with defiance. It caused the King of the gods to pause.

"What do you mean, no?" Zeus growled. But Aodhan was not intimidated. The gods would not make him hurt his family.

"Just as it sounds. I am not Astyanax of some prophecy. I am my own man. And I'll not let you control my future." Thunder rumbled at the display of defiance. How was this human fighting his fate? Before Zeus could speak another voice rang out.

"It would do well to listen, God King." Lyra landed besides Asty who looked relieved to see her. Zeus eyed the smallest of the feas in annoyance.

"You think because you have my brother's favor that will protect you?" He mocked. But the fae was unbothered. Simply looking at Asty.

"Head home, my fire. Your father began to worry when he saw storm clouds. Go assure him you're well." The prince hugged her, mutter a thank you to his aunt before running off. Zeus was blocked by white wings when he went to grab the boy.

"Your prophecy died long ago, Zeus. The moment that child became mine and I named him. A child of human and fae family. Not bound to your whims." Who did this fae think she was?!

"You dare defy me? Defy the will of the gods?!" He bellowed. Lighting striking the ground besides Lyra. She didn't flinch. Eyes on the god.

"Yes. Because your will is no stronger than the will of the Earth. The will of the very magic faes are gifted and bound by." Her eyes shimmered like the lighting that crackled in the clouds above. Her smile said she knew something the god did not, and Zeus hated it.

"My will is stronger than all! My word is law!" Another strike of lighting that shook the ground. The fae took a step forward.

"Not to the All Mother. Not to Danu. To Nyx." The wind and storm clouds froze. The thunder silenced as Zeus stared at the fae. Realization hitting the god.

"Your magic...it comes from her." The god could not believe it. Of course such strong creatures would be creations of hers.

"Our magic is hers. It is her will. She created us, bound us by our words and the elements. But with that, a gift of freedom. The ability to only bow to her will and hers alone." Lyra turned her back on the god and began to walk away. Stopping only to look back with a warning.

"And as such, so do my children, my Caras, and all that I give myself and magic to. So go, King of the Gods. You'll find no more prophecies here." Spreading her wings, Lyra took off back towards the palace. Asty and Odysseus would have to talk. But as the thunder roared behind her and the clouds disappeared, the fae had a feeling things would be alright.

[somehow-a-writer]

A Curious Flying Friend {England X Reader}

It was a cool autumn day, not too warm nor cool with a gentle breeze and few clouds scattered through the beautiful blue sky. (F/N) decided to take a walk through the woods behind your house, you had taken plenty of walks through there while exploring it and had found a waterfall that you loved to sit by to get away from everything and relax. Today was one of those days you decided to walk there and sit against the trunk of a large willow tree. Along the way, (F/N) made sure to be careful of the surroundings, not just your typical tree root but also anything of the supernatural variety, after all, you did not want to upset anything—especially any fae in the surrounding woods. Upon making it to the waterfall, you sigh contently while any tension in your shoulders slowly melted away, no matter how many times you visited it was always a breathtaking sight.

(F/N) walked to the giant willow tree, sitting down at the base of the trunk before pulling a thick book from your bag and opening it. With only the sounds of the waterfall, the surrounding nature, and your heartbeat. It was true bliss. A few fae appeared, coming out from the forest, from the other side of the lake, and began gathering different items. Upon noticing (F/N) they smiled and waved at the familiar human. Having looked up at the noise, you returned their smile, waving back at the few fae that you had grown used to seeing around this area of the forest. (F/N) was quite accustomed to anything to do with the mythological at quite a young age, that was after you had learned at least the basics of most creatures.

Before you could return to your book, you felt something land on your head. Well, more like it plopped down on your head. You glance up, trying to see what it could've been aside from hearing it trying to catch its breath, the poor thing sounded tired. From what you could tell it had long ears and was a mint color, your best guess was it was some type of mythological creature but couldn't place anything with just those two things. Setting your book to the side, you very carefully and gently picked the creature up and brought it down in front of you for a better look. As (F/N) brought it down, the creature perked up slightly, watching the female curiously the mint-colored animal tilted its head while its ears perked up. After looking over for a moment while taking in its looks,  your (e/c) eyes filled with genuine curiosity, you noted it looked like a typical bunny but it had mings and was completely colored like mint ice cream. You giggle softly as you set it on your lap, petting it lightly while watching it nuzzling into your touch. It warmed up to you surprisingly fast, (F/N) took notice and assumed it was somehow used to people, though you still had absolutely no idea what it could be. Well aside from being rather cute that is, that was definitely obvious.

(F/N) went back to the book that was temporarily forgotten about, still petting the flying bunny in your lap. A few minutes passed by before you could hear distant shouting, it was still too faint to make out so you continued on your book, making sure to keep to also pay attention to the yells for if they got closer. They did in fact after a little bit more, it sounded like a male's voice shouting a name. "-BUNNY!? WHERE DID YOU GET TO!?" 'Bunny? Could they potentially be looking for this cutie? Hmmm... It doesn't seem fazed, I'll wait a bit longer...' You thought to yourself, scratching under the mystical bunny's chin, which it replied happily to.

The voice eventually grew louder till before you knew it a figure was bursting from the forest, a few feet from where you were sitting. You look up towards the sound of the noise, not having much time to get up earlier due to getting slightly distracted with your book, you notice a male looking around. He had shaggy blonde hair, his clothes slightly messy and torn from running through the forest but nothing that couldn't be easily fixed. He sighs, scratching the back of his neck as he makes sure to slowly take in his surroundings, obviously looking for something or someone. "Flying Mint Bunny where could you have possibly gone this time?" Upon hearing the voice, the creature in your lap sits up, looking towards the male. "Oh? Do you know him, little one?" You look between the two, standing up while holding the fluffy winged bunny close to you, and began walking over to the mysterious male. 

"Excuse me, i-is this who you c-could be looking for, sir?" (F/N) asks, trying to hold back the nervous stutter which was difficult around new people. The male turned around studying you for a moment, a small blush growing as he started into your (e/c) orbs, (h/l) (h/c) blowing in the gentle breeze, almost forgetting to respond. "O-Oh, apologies for staring... To answer your question though, yes, that is precisely who I was looking for. She loves to fly off to distract me, essentially forcing me to take a break. Thank you for watching her. What is your name?" He states with a friendly smile, his English accent making you blush a little. "I-It was no problem... My n-name is (F/N) (L/N), may I ask yours as well?" You ask, sticking your hands out with Flying Mint Bunny in them towards the British male, who carefully takes her, scratching her head a little. "Oh my, excuse me how ungentlemanly of me, my apologies dear. I'm Arthur Kirkland, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." You shake your head, smiling at the two with a little chuckle, thinking about how cute they looked together. "It's fine, no need to worry. The pleasure is all mine Arthur.”

"If I may ask dear, you can see Flying Mint Bunny, can you do magic or see any other mythological things?" Arthur asks, tilting his head slightly. "I don't do magic but I can see mythological creatures and such, basically my whole life. What about you, Mr. Kirkland." You nod, despite Arthur looking around your age, it seemed right to use mister when referring to him. With a light chuckle upon hearing himself being called 'mister', he responds. "There's no need for formalities, please just call me Arthur, (F/N). Also, I can do magic as well as see different creatures. Most of my friends don't take me seriously about it... It's nice meeting someone else who can see, however. U-Um... I-If you're not busy, would you be i-interested in having some company?" A  blush quickly spread across his face, glancing away at the end. Arthur understood if you didn't but was honestly hoping you would, you had piqued his interest immediately and it only grew. "Hm? O-Oh yes, that's completely fine! I would actually enjoy that quite a bit, you seem like an interesting guy, Arthur." You replied, blushing as well with a small smile. Arthur nods, following you back to where you were sitting under the willow prior to his arrival.

The two of you talked for hours, continuing until you noticed it was starting to become nightfall, and agreed it was a good idea to start heading back. Arthur and (F/N) carefully walked together through the woods towards the town, continuing to chat along the way. As it grew darker through the walk in the forest, Arthur kept (F/N) close, making sure nothing happened to his new friend. After a bit, they made it out and to the other side of the forest. "Hey um... If you'd like, you can stay at my house for the night, we have a spare room you can use. O-Only if you want to though! J-Just thought I would o-offer because it's right over here and I wasn't sure how far your house was and-" Arthur cut off your rambles before you got the chance to panic anymore over a potential misunderstanding. "Thank you for the offer, dear, I would greatly appreciate it. That is, as long as it's no trouble to you or anyone else." "It's no problem! I share it with my friend, and we have an extra room. I'm not sure if it's occupied already or not, but we can always figure something out if that's the case." You explain, taking his hand in your own without thinking as you lead him towards your house. Arthur's face instantly flushed at the contact, thankful that the night and staying behind you could mostly hide this. 

After you both had entered the house, you took off your coat and shoes, setting them aside, Arthur did the same, following your lead. "Are you hungry? I think we have some leftovers or I can make something quick?" "N-Now that you mention it, I am hungry. I'm fine with whatever you choose, love." (F/N) nods, heading towards the kitchen as Arthur and Flying Mint Bunny follow, you open the fridge and scan its contents for something, anything. "How about some (f/f)?" Arthur nods, you take it out and put some on two plates, warming them up quickly before setting them on the nearby table. "Would you like anything to drink?" "Water is fine. Thank you for dinner, you're quite the sweetheart." Arthur compliments, taking a seat at the table while smiling at you. Now it was your turn to blush as a shy smile creeps its way to your lips while you get a couple of glasses of water. "Y-You're welcome a-and t-thank you as well. You're quite lovely yourself." You state, returning to the table and setting the drinks down before sitting. You ate in a comfortable silence and once you were finished, Arthur helped you wash up the few dishes you used.

"Would you like a shower or anything? I might have some clothes that my brother gave me that you could wear if you wanted. One moment while I check if the guest room is available." Arthur nods as you walk down the hall, left in the living room to consider your polite offers. You heard your friend talking to a couple of people in their room, stopping before the door you gave it a knock. "Come in, (nickname)!" You heard a voice shout from the other side, you open the door and peer in, noticing a couple of friends of your friend in there as well, meaning the guest room would most likely be unavailable. "Hey, just a quick question. Was anyone planning on using the guest room tonight?" "Yeah, these two were. Why, what's up?" "Oh nothing, I offered to let a friend stay over since it had gotten dark out when we returned and just trying to plan where they could stay. Thanks (friend's nickname), see y'all later then. Have a nice night!" You say before closing the door again and heading back towards Arthur, you had a gut feeling this would happen but had to check anyway.

Arthur looked up from Flying Mint Bunny quickly once you returned, cheeks tinted red. "I'm sorry to say that the guest room will be occupied soon tonight... You can sleep in my room or the couch if you prefer, I-I'm sure we can set something up quickly either way." "No worries love, it's quite alright." Before Arthur could continue, Flying Mint Bunny whispered something in his ear, causing his blush to turn a few shades darker. "What are you saying, I couldn't possibly ask something like that of her!" "Hmmm? What did she say?" You tilted your head, walking closer. Arthur shook his head, quite embarrassed, as he mumbled barely loud enough for you to hear. "She said I should ask to sleep in your room... I couldn't possibly, we just met and it doesn't seem very gentlemanly of me to bother you like that..." "Ooh. It's no trouble, really. As long as you're comfortable with it I don't mind. It's not like anything will really happen." You giggle a little, but your cheeks were tinted pink. Arthur hesitates for a moment before nodding. "It you say so, love. If you don't mind, I would like to take you up on the shower offer. I would hate to dirty your sheets, I was running through the forest after all..." Arthur chuckles slightly, rubbing the back of his neck as he stands. "Of course, let me grab some clothes for you and show you the way." Walking back down the hall you showed Arthur where the bathroom was before grabbing some towels as well as a change of clothes that you got from your older brother. (F/N) returned and passed Arthur the times before explaining where your room was and the door would be open for him when he was finished. Exchanging nods, you left for your room as Arthur closed the door and did what he need to.

After a bit, Arthur walks toward your room with the clothes he was wearing neatly folded in his hands. His hair was still pretty wet as the towel hung closely over his head while the shirt you gave him was in his other hand, he wasn't one to wear shirts to bed due to comfortability. As he walked in you glanced up, the heat rising to your face again quickly. You looked him over, noticing he was fairly in shape, not the type to have abs but the type to tell he did occasionally work out. 'Shit, he's quite the looker, isn't he. Fuck, look away, look away, don't let him catch you checking him out!' You scold yourself mentally almost immediately, glancing away as he sets his clothes on the floor. "Um here's the shirt you added, I can put it on if you want but I typically don't wear them to bed due to comfortability." Arthur explains, setting the shirt at the end of your bed before trying to dry his hair off as much as he could. 

You shake your head, picking up the shirt before getting up and putting it away. "It's o-okay, you don't have to especially if you're more comfortable like this. We don't have any air mattresses and the floor isn't terribly comfortable... My bed has enough room for two and some extra space as well, i-if you don't mind sharing for a night..." You say, growing quieter at the last sentence, a blush returning to both your faces. "I-I don't mind. A-And I promise, I-I wouldn't dream of doing anything to you, love!" Arthur says, nerves taking over a bit. You giggle a little as you turn out the lights and climb into bed. "It's alright, I didn't think you would. After all, you're quite the gentleman Arthur. Goodnight, I hope you rest well." You say sleepily, exhaustion suddenly hitting you as your head hit the pillow. Arthur smiles, climbing into bed and laying down beside you. "Thank you, love. You're quite wonderful. Goodnight and sweet dreams, (F/N)." You smile as sleep over takes you before you could respond. 'He really is a gentleman. I hope we can become better friends, maybe more one day. Maybe...' Was the last thing you remember thinking before being completely overtaken by sleep. Flying Mint Bunny curled up near some of the plushies on your bed, happy her friend seemed to have found someone he could connect with so quickly. Her curiosity finally about this person seemed to finally pay off with this meeting earlier that day. She was grateful to finally meet this curious (h/c) finally after seeing them pass through the forest so often.

Note: This was inspired by a friend's suggestion for the plot. They had no idea what fandom it was for, the only premise given was "cute fluffy shit" xD to which they responded with "a curious bunny." Which wasn't really mentioned till the end, slightly cause I forgot but oh well. It's in there and makes it seem like Flying Mind Bunny is some kind of adorable mastermind lmao

[psychiatry-and-poetry]

Drunken Ecstasy

Part 1 | Part 4 | AO3 | ACOTAR Masterpost | Masterpost of masterposts |

A/N: Since we don’t know much about Dawn, I decided to do some worldbuilding of my own. Since Thesan’s mother is High Fae from Xian I thought, why not make that the capital too? Also, an alcazar (which is the actual spelling even though I changed it a little) is just a more open chateau/villa kinda thing

Word Count: 4958

The sun rose over the horizon, gradually staining the sky hues of magenta and violet and indigo. The bright rays filtered in past puffy clouds as they drifted along, carried on a phantom wind. Glimmers of sunlight fell on the opulent marble floors of the half-open alcoves and scattered balconies. Gleaming and pristine, they shone in the morning light, glowing a dusty pink, as the light finally entered through the billowing curtains of the Alqazar.

The High Lord’s private residence in Xian. The capital of Dawn; its shining, treasured gem. Filled with craftsmen, healers, and nobility alike, the palace exuded an aura of breathtaking beauty and harmony. Energy thrummed from every inch of the structure, light and yet undoubtedly powerful. 

Quiet resilience and opalite grandeur seemed to coat each slab of marble of the palace, luxurious architecture and spiralling domes arcing across the sky as iridescent clouds enveloped the turrets in a warm embrace.

Then again, harmony was what the Dawn Court was known for. Balance, tranquility, and how everything always seemed to fit together, like pieces of a puzzle that had found their way to each other.

✦ ✦ ✦

Azriel tugged at his collar, the suit too tight and nearly suffocating. Who had shut the windows?

“They’re open,” came Rhys’ voice as he lounged on the bed, one leg crossed over the other. “What?”

“The windows,” he clarified. “They’re open.”

Damnnit. Azriel had let his shields fall. To be honest, he didn’t have the energy to hoist them up; not in the state he was in.

“Azriel,” said Rhys once more. “You’re going to be alright. Take a deep breath.” At his brother’s refusal to comply, Rhys got up and placed his hands on Azriel’s shoulders. “Look me in the eye, brother.” He continued only when Azriel followed his instructions.

Azriel had been expecting judgement, a mocking laugh or a small tease, but what he wasn’t expecting to see was a softness in Rhys’ eyes that grounded him. “You deserve this, you understand me? You deserve it all. She’s going to be more than happy to see you, and then you’ll both be sappy and lovey-dovey to each other forever like I know you are.”

Despite himself, Azriel couldn’t help a slight chuckle from spilling out, albeit a nervous one. “Thanks, Rhys,” he said softly. “It means so much to me that you and Cassian are here. With me.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Speaking of,” the High Lord said, turning to the door. “Where is our dear General?”

Azriel snorted. “Knowing him, either taking Nesta in every room of his chambers or absolutely drunk and passed out from last night.”

They shared a laugh before a distinct, booming voice sounded from beyond the pristine opalite doors. “Az! You’d best be awake!”

“Cassian,” they both muttered to each other in unison, sharing a glance, before a certain Illyrian’s wings peeked in from the door. “There’s my brother!” he nearly yelled, and made a beeline straight for Azriel, half-shoving an unsuspecting Rhysand out of the way.

“Cass,” Azriel wheezed. “I’m going to need you to let me go if I want to be alive for the ceremony. I don’t think the guests want to see a corpse hauled in.”

“Nonsense,” Cassian grumbled, the smell of whiskey clearly still on his breath from the night before. “This is the proper way to give a hug.”

“Be that as it may, Cassian, you’re going to have to let poor Az go if you don’t want to winkle his suit. That cost me a fortune, I’ll remind you.”

Begrudgingly, Cassian let go of Azriel, only to scan him from head to toe. “Rhys did a nice job getting you all dressed up.”

Azriel snickered. “No, Rhys didn’t help. I mean, he tried to, but we’ve all seen how his fashion sense is. You’d have to be well past blind to even consider a suggestion from him. Did you know, he tried to get me to wear an orange suit? I looked like a ginger gift-wrapped Illyrian.”

“Hey!” he exclaimed indignantly. “You two complimented me on my last birthday-”

“Out of pity,” Cassian interrupted as he tried and failed to hold in a laugh.

“Pricks,” Rhysand only muttered under his breath, though they all knew the words held no bite to them.

The gentle, half-hour chime of the clock had them all sobering up. Taking a deep breath and straightening his tie for the last time, Azriel exited his chambers and stepped onto the awaiting terrace.

✦ ✦ ✦

A bouquet clutched in her sweaty palms, Gwyn took a shuddering inhale. “Nesta,” she squeaked. “I…What am I doing?”

Her best friend only came to stand beside her and fixed a stray lock of hair that had fallen out of place. “You’re getting married,” she whispered conspiratorially. “To one of the hottest males in Prythian.”

“Nesta, if I laugh too hard it’ll crease my makeup. Stop that.”

“Ah, what’re we bullying Nesta about now?” came Emerie’s voice as she made her way to Gwyn, stunning in a resplendent violet dress of her own. “How she’ll ruin my makeup if she doesn’t shove it,” hissed Gwyn. Emerie only turned to look at her best friend and tsked. “Play nice, Nesta.”

Lady Death merely rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “We need to get Gwyn to stop fretting like a mother hen. I’m merely improvising. I haven’t seen you do anything about it Emerie,” she said haughtily.

“Yes, because I’ve been helping with the actual wedding preparations and not debating over whether carnelian, vermilion, or crimson were better shades for the flowers. They were all horrible choices, I’ll have you know.”

Indeed, Gwyn had decided to go for more…established colours, as she liked to put it. Nesta had been slightly put off, though she recovered quickly by instead taking over the food, namely the menu. Gwyn and Emerie had to review it to make sure Nesta hadn’t placed any actual orders, but she was glad her best friend was enjoying herself. 

Nesta’s mating ceremony had been ridiculously over-the-top as she singlehandedly drained Rhysand’s bank accounts. Accounts, because he had multiple, and she had somehow found a use for all of them. He’d been too thankful to her for saving his mate’s and son’s lives, so he really hadn’t minded.

This, however, meant that Nesta wanted to hijack Gwyn’s ceremony to see exactly how much she was allowed to get away with. Gwyn had rejected the idea immediately, not wanting a lasting negative impression on her otherwise clean reputation, and most definitely not to her future brother-in-law and High Lord of Night.

“Gwyn,” called Deirdre. Gwyn had invited the other Valkyries to be her maids of honour. “I think it’s time for us to head out.”

“She’s right,” Nesta gasped, craning her neck to look at the clock hanging on the opposite wall.

As the other priestesses began to make their way out in a line, Nesta hugged Gwyn tightly before whispering, “We’ll see you outside.” Gwyn only nodded mutely, unable to form any words with the nausea roiling in her gut. 

She knew intrinsically that this was the right decision. She’d wanted to marry Azriel for a long time now, so she couldn’t figure out what, exactly, was wrong. Her palms were sweaty, and what if her hairstyle was crooked? What if-

She needed to calm down. It was a mating ceremony, dammnit. It was her mating ceremony. It wouldn’t do to be nervous and skittish like a rabbit. Cauldron knew she’d spent long enough doing just that. She should be grateful and appreciative that the High Lord of the Dawn had even allowed them to have the ceremony in his court. In his private residence, no less. 

She and Azriel had decided to have their mating ceremony a couple of months ago. Though Azriel had initially been against the idea of a large, grand celebration, saying that the crowds got to him, he’d warmed up. Seeing Rhys and Feyre plan theirs and have it at the Moonstone Palace had intrigued him, he’d admitted. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime event, he’d said, when Gwyn had sceptically raised an eyebrow at him. Of course I want to. If you want to, that is. 

Of course she wanted to. It had been her dream since she was a little girl to have a big, magnificent, splendid commemoration of the mating bond.

Little Gwyn had imagined being whisked away by a tall and ruggedly handsome male, who would love her like no other. It seemed that the Mother, whoever and wherever she was, truly did answer prayers. She had really gotten the man of her dreams, and she couldn’t believe any of this was real. 

The light, ethereal singing of the choir outside snapped Gwyn out of her stupor, and she took a deep breath as the doors to the terrace unlatched, and grand double-doors swung open on a breeze. 

✦ ✦ ✦

Azriel’s first thought when he saw Gwyn walk out into the aisle was pure, utter awe. His breath caught as soon as he took in the sight of her, and he didn’t think he’d be able to look away even if he’d wanted to.

Adorned in a floor length cream wedding dress and skirts of tulle, she walked down the aisle holding a bouquet of gardenias and hydrangeas, looking like the Mother herself. The sun beamed from behind her, setting her copper hair alight and her skin glowing with warmth as if she was shining from within. 

He had no words, save for that his mate looked resplendent in her wedding gown, and that he was so thoroughly and wholly entranced by her. His jaw was likely agape on the floor right now as he took her in, but he didn’t care; not one bit. 

The steady, graceful chorus of the gathered choir only emphasised his belief that Gwyn was the Mother herself, and was being welcomed in by angels as she walked in, skin aglow and a lovely smile on her face. She was looking straight ahead, he realised. Not at the altar, but at him. She was taking him in just as he was observing her, neither having enough self-control to stop their eyes from wandering; greedily taking the other in as if there was no sight more holy and divine, as if this was the last they’d see of each other.

Neither noticed the aisle strewn with flower petals, the magnificent backdrop of castles and turrets peeking out as they were shrouded in misty, gold-rimmed clouds. Neither noticed the guests looking at the couple so besotted and in love they had eyes only for each other.

As Gwyn made her way to the altar, chin high and eyes alight, Azriel leaned down to whisper, “I can’t believe we’re getting married.”

“Me neither,” his soon-to-be wife murmured. 

They left it at that, no words needed as they took the other in; eyes scanning the other’s face but finding nothing save for such unfiltered, raw love as it brought tears to both their eyes. 

Ananke’s voice broke through their infatuated haze. One of Gwyn’s friends and a priestess herself at the House of Wind, was officiating their ceremony. There was no other priestess Gwyn considered holy enough to preside over such an important event in her life, and the female had been overjoyed.

“We are gathered here today to witness the bonding of two souls, crafted by the Mother Herself. May She grant you many joyous years together, may your disagreements and differences in opinion be fleeting, and may you never fall out of love.”

Light applause followed her short speech, and she continued once it had died down, now facing the would-be couple. “Would you like to begin your vows?”

They nodded at her, and Azriel pulled a piece of paper from his suit pocket. Had his hands always been this sweaty? And did they always shake so much? Shut up, he muttered to that irritating voice in his head, and reeled himself in. This was it. This was his one chance to show the world how much he loved her. He took a deep, albeit shaky, breath and started. 

“Gwyneth Berdara: Priestess, Valkyrie, Carynthian. None of these titles do you justice, not in the way it matters. For you are so much more than what you do, so much more than your appareance. Your fiery personality, your unwillingness to give up and the kindness you spread in the world are only a few of the reasons I am so deeply infatuated with you. 

You are everything I have not managed to be in life. Light, stunning, ethereal, graceful. Sunlight personified, and the kindest person I’ve known.”

Your competitive streak seems as if it was made to rival my own. I could give you a hundred reasons as to why we are each other’s half, why we fit so well together and how we seem to be perpetually in sync, each attuned with the other in a way I had not known was possible. I feel as if we are in our own world, a world filled with light and warmth, with a music so soft and haunting that only we can hear it as we dance to its rhythm. To anyone else, it may seem as if we are going insane. But all I can think of in that moment is my unending, undying passion for you. 

“You appeared in my life like an angel of some sort, perhaps a saviour, and I felt compelled to know you. Not simply know you, but befriend and grasp your very essence; know all those lovely details like the tiles of an ever-growing mosaic that make you who you are. What brings you joy, what makes you contemplate. But most importantly, what draws that radiant smile of yours out; and that laughter. I hear echoes of it when I am lonely, I am reminded that no matter where I am, your presence will hover over me; a thing of calm, lovely beauty. It rings in my ears as the clear chime of a cathedral, signalling that a new era in my life has begun.

“You floated in like a dove, elegant in a way that set my heart ablaze. Even if we lived in a hundred separate lifetimes, I would choose you, over and over again until fate tried to pull us apart. But I would have fought for you like no other. I would have waged war so that every other hero in history would have been put to shame.

And though these wedding vows are a feeble attempt at poetry, and forgive me for this, know that there is no real way for me to convey my adoration of you. Gifts will do you no courtesy, so these words will have to do.”

Azriel was met with thunderous applause from everyone gathered, and it took everything in him not to kiss Gwyn right then and there, mating ceremony and tradition be damned. He barely restrained himself, knowing she would have the skin off his back if the ceremony went any other way than perfect.

“Gwyn?” Ananke prompted, teary-eyed herself. Clearing her throat and fighting the urge to bite her lip, a nervous tick of hers, the bride began speaking.

Her voice rang out clear as the pealing of a bell as it floated around the courtyard. “Azriel. My mate, my Shadowsinger, love of my life. I cannot believe that we have known each other for almost four years, and yet it feels like so much longer. They say we no longer have the ability to accurately perceive time once we find those we love. Perhaps I, too, am guilty of this, though I do not regret it at all. If anything, I have learned how to be eternally grateful.

“We have known each other for just short of half a decade, and yet so much has changed. I would be lying through my teeth if I said that I didn’t find you enchanting from the moment I set my eyes on you. I think my soul knew who you were to me, and I was simply too scared to accept it. There was something so magnetic, so alluring about you that I quickly found I couldn’t stay away. Maybe it was the shadows, maybe it was something else entirely, but I was so smitten by you I felt like a giddy schoolgirl every time I lay my eyes on you.”

Her last comment earned her chuckles from the audience, each member waiting with bated breath for them to finish their vows.

“Your dry humour is so enchanting to be a part of. Jokes that only the two of us know, jokes that mean more to me than jewellery or clothes. Memories are a different kind of wealth, one that I hope you will continue to have for however long it is that we may know each other. I am praying that it will be a lifetime, but we are all aware of how utterly unpredictable everything can be despite our best efforts.

“I am so utterly blessed to have you, not only as my mate, but as my husband, my friend, my confidante through my toughest times. To know you as intimately and profoundly as I do has been worth more than I express. I hope that you will never forget that. And if you do, if you think that you cannot do this, that it is too hard, that it is impossible, that for some reason, you do not believe; remember: I will believe in you enough for the both of us. I will always have enough love in me for the both of us, no matter where I am, who I am with, or what I might be feeling. 

“You are my first priority. You have always been. What I have tried so desperately to say here is, Azriel, how much I love you. I love every single aspect of you and your personality, the sunshine radiance that seems to emanate from every fibre of your being.

I could keep going, but I am afraid the world would eternally be short of paper. I could keep going for eons and the world would be much better off for it.”

Whistles and cheering filled the veranda, and Gwyn’s eyes glazed over with unshed happiness. She heard quiet sniffles in the background, a few whoops and a distinctive whistle she was sure belonged to Cassian, but her eyes never strayed from Azriel’s. 

“The rings, if you please?” Ananke asked, facing Nesta and Rhysand, both of who were the maid of honour and best man respectively. They stepped closer, extending the ornate jewellery box to the couple. 

“Do you, Azriel, take Gwyneth to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.” His voice was rougher, more gravelly, as if he was suppressing the urge to cry. “And do you, Gwyneth, take Azriel to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do,” she echoed back.

With that, Azriel slid an intricate band on silver onto Gwyn’s finger, and Gwyn did the same with a slightly thicker and plainer ring. Those hands. Oh, what hadn’t they seen? What hadn’t they done? They had been with her when she’d most needed it; comforting her, holding her, simply being with her. She only hoped she could do the same for him.

“These rings are a symbol of of your life long commitment to each other. They seal the vows you have made to love and cherish each other for the rest of your lives. By the power vested in my by the Mother and the Cauldron, and by the strength of your own love, I declare this union as official. You may kiss the bride.”

Azriel’s mouth was on Gwyn’s before the words were out of Ananke’s mouth.

Their kiss was everything a kiss could be: sensual, promising, and full of so much love she was sure it had been injected into her bloodstream. Her eyes closed on instinct, and she felt a light touch on the small of her back, Azriel clearly unable to hold himself back from touching her. Gwyn melted into it; into him, and grasped Azriel’s jaw in equal parts anticipation and desperation. 

They broke apart, slightly panting. Neither took their hands off the other, and the love floating through the air was more than palpable for everyone present.

“Time for the food,” Ananke said, winking at Gwyn, all her stately charm having vanished as it was replaced with warmer. 

Azriel descended from the altar with a brush along the small of her back and offered a hand to Gwyn. His hazel eyes were alight with a promise that had Gwyn’s toes curling in her heels. Lightly placing her hand in his, she stepped down, and they made their way to the tables that had been set up prior to the ceremony.

As they took their seats, facing each other, everyone waited, the apprehension in the atmosphere thick enough to drive a blade through.

While the ceremony at the altar was more of a…formality, giving a mate fresh, home-cooked food was what really sealed the bond. 

Gwyn had thought long and hard about what to make him, but she’d decided on something she knew Azriel loved. Risotto. He’d mentioned off-handedly how he’d had it on a visit to Dawn, and that it had quickly become his favourite, if only because the ingredients needed were so fresh there was no point making anything with them by the time they came to the Night Court. 

She up a morsel of everything: shrimp, rice, and vegetables and raised the fork to his mouth. He hummed around the food, a delightful sound that had Gwyn’s heart bursting with joy. It was rare she got to see her mate truly content, and she would take every opportunity she had, from now until however much time they had left with each other to fill every moment of theirs with bliss.

In turn, Azriel fed Gwyn a morsel of knafeh, one of her favourite pastries made with layered semolina and soft cheese filling, then covered with a tooth-achingly sweet sugar syrup. The flavours flooded into her mouth, each bite a burst of ecstasy as the flavours wove themselves over her tongue. 

Of course, feeding each other food that they’d made was more of a…formality, seeing as they’d already accepted the bond at the House after their night out. This was symbolic, something they wanted to share with the rest of the world while their real acceptance of the bond had taken place at home. 

Home. That was they were to each other now. Their sanctuary, their safe place, where they could find love and caring and warmth, no matter how tired or frustrated at the rest of the world they were. 

It was all so sickeningly sweet, and yet it was perfect. It was just how she’d wanted it, and Azriel, ever the caring, attentive mate, had stepped right up to this challenge, exactly as he had to the all others in their relationship. 

✦ ✦ ✦

Azriel had never thought he’d experience a peace so deep he felt it in his bones. Surrounded by his friends and family, by Gwyn, he was the happiest male alive. 

They laughed and joke as they ate, the formality of the evening melting into the casual banter and teasing that everyone was comfortable with.

Nearby, the choir stood in traditional Dawn attire, all flowing robes, warm hues of iridescent colour, and glittering gold jewellery that caught in the light as they serenaded the feast now taking place. It was magical, how their voices melded into one living, breathing, and utterly ethereal being that had Azriel’s heart clenching, not for the first time that day. 

A tap on his shoulder had him turning, eyebrows raised. He relaxed immediately when he realised it was only Cassian. “So, how does it feel to be mate and married?” his brother grinned down at him, carrying a plate of food, clearly just about to being eating himself. It was customary for the couple to eat first, which was why some guests were still by the buffet, taking their pick of the glorious food as chatter filled the clearing.

Azriel exhaled. “Like I’ve never been happier,” he responded quietly. “Like I never want this day to end and that I was such a fool for ever believing that I didn’t deserve her.” He likely still didn’t, but he wasn’t going to question whatever greater power had granted him his radiant mate. Cassian’s eyes softened, and he placed a warm, comforting hand on Azriel’s shoulder. “You deserve it. You and her both. You’ve been through so much, but I…have I told you how happy I am that you’ve found each other?”

Azriel swallowed, fighting the tightness in his throat. “Thank you. It…means a lot to me that you and Rhys are here. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

Cassian boomed a laugh. “Of course we’re here, you dolt. I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Also, there’s free food.”

The groom sighed, rolling his eyes. “You couldn’t have let it be a sweet moment, just this once?”

“Nope,” came his brother’s reply as he sauntered off, likely to find Nesta.

Chuckling and shaking his head, he turned back to his food, only to find Gwyn watching him, teal eyes sincere as she watched the interaction between the two Illyrians. “What?” He asked, breaking the silence. “Nothing,” she murmured, giving him a soft peck on the lips before dragging her attention back to her friends, each sat on one side of her. 

✦ ✦ ✦

They spent the rest of the evening mingling and laughing with the guests, until it was clear that Azriel wanted Gwyn for himself. “Sweetheart,” he whispered to his wife. “Can we leave? We’ve stayed here long enough for it to be polite.”

She laughed openly at that, the couple just having gotten rid of some ministers that Rhysand had invited as a courtesy. “It’s our mating ceremony, Az. It would be terribly rude to leave halfway through.”

“Exactly. It’s our mating ceremony. That means we have free reign to leave whenever we want to.”

She smirked and leaned in to whisper in his ear, “I promise you’ll have me all to yourself soon, Shadowsinger. Be patient, hm?” She accentuated her last sentence with a slow, deliberate drag of her nails down his chest that had Azriel’s eyes fluttering shut. Gwyn practically heard his heart rate speed up. “Fine,” he breathed. “But if you try to tease me, you’ll pay for it.”

“Me? Tease you?” Gwyn tilted her head, placing a hand over her chest in mock offense. “Does that really sound like something I’d do?”

“You little minx. You have no idea what you do to me.”

“What do I do to you, Azriel?” Gods, the sultry way she said his name.

“Why don’t we go upstairs and I can show you what you’re doing to me.” He had no doubt that his eyes had darkened to near obsidian now, and he felt the incessant, all-consuming need to fuck Gwyn like never before. If this was how he felt after having already accepted the bond, he didn’t want to think what would have happened if they’d waited until the ceremony to officiate it. He probably wouldn’t have been able to deal with it; he’d have taken her on every inch of this fucking balcony without giving a damn who was there or who wasn’t.

He blinked, clearing the increasingly lust-induced thoughts from his head, attempting to fight the haze clouding his mind.

“I spent two hours getting ready for our ceremony, Azriel. We have to stay for at least four before we leave.”

✦ ✦ ✦

At long last, the celebration had begun winding down, increasingly tipsy guests giggling and making their way back into the palace. Females with mussed hair carrying their heels in their hands and males with their ties either loosened or completely missing was a sight that made Gwyn chuckle, filling her heart with a pleasant sense of contentment and…peace. 

The day had gone exactly as she’d planned it, passing through in a dreamy haze as she’d had eyes only for Azriel. 

It seemed that her husband was thinking the same as their eyes caught, and they gravitated towards each other as if they were drawn in by the thread that connected their souls.

“Hey,” she breathed, glancing up at Azriel and placing her hands on his chest. “Hi,” he echoed back. “My name is Azriel. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Gwyn shoved at him lightly, scoffing, sending Azriel into a fit of laughter. “Idiot Illyrian,” she muttered, but couldn’t help the slight upwards tug of her mouth at his unrestrained, unbound laughter floating throughout the now secluded courtyard. Her words held no real bite to them, but she continued anyway. “Should we head up?” Indeed, it was quite late, the stars beginning to peek through the perpetual mosaic of colour that seemed to adorn Dawn’s skies. The mountains lay in the distance, hald-shrouded in mist as swallows called to each other, soaring overhead, likely heading back to their nests to retire for the night. 

It was enchanting, how much beauty there was in the world when she looked for it.

“I thought you’d never ask.” Azriel’s laughter had quieted to a steady, unrelenting thrum of reassurance beside her, sensing her quiet contemplation and change in mood. He placed a hand on her shoulder as he guided her up the staircase and into the palace above.

Part 5

Line dividers credit goes to @enchanthings

[abysswalkersknight]

This is technically a part 1 of a OB Silver fic so I'll be doing a part 2 later on.

I've mainly used the original story of "The Legend Of Sleepy Hollow" as well as the film of the same name, and this isn't beta'd so if there are any mistakes please let me know.

Other then that please enjoy!

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

"We're going downhill," remarked General Vanrouge to himself. “So it’s definitely not those pesky Owls” tensions were high within the group for a while. Just recently they unsuccessfully tried to stop Silver from being taken by the darkness. Every time Sebek and Yuu closed their eyes the exhausted look of utter despair on the fallen diasomnian’s face as he tried to drag himself out was burned into their minds. Sebek clutched at the ring that Silver had hastily thrown at him before sinking ‘keep moving!’ he yelled ‘save everyone else!’ 

Those were the last words they heard from Silver.

Silver can’t be gone forever, thought Sebek, this is just a dream. All we need to do is wake up Sir Lilia and everyone else then break Wakasama out of his overblot, we must keep moving!

That very night their group, crest-fallen and heavy hearted, pursued their travels toward the fortress. When it was soon found out that no one had the mind to fall asleep, General Lilia, ignoring the strange anguish in his cold heart, forwent the troubles of setting up camp and led them off on a well used dirt track. Sebek and Yuu; too grief-stricken over the loss of Silver and the Fae; too unnerved from witnessing the birth of an overblot, walked in rigid silence. In the dead of night Sebek could distantly hear the cries of a passing owl, but it was so faint he wondered if he had heard it at all. Other than that there was no other sign of life, even the crickets seemed to have ceased their chirping. All of a sudden Lilia tenses at the front ‘stay quiet’ he whispers in the faintest of voices ‘we were being followed before, but now I’ve lost track of them’ at which everyone is immediately on high alert. Sebek corralled Yuu and Grim closer to the middle of the group and turned his back to them squinting through the growing darkness of the night, the moon shone through the trees, illuminating the path. Unfortunately he couldn’t see anything among the foliage and from the looks of it, neither could the fae. This unsettled him as he knew that the fae’s senses were even greater than his, and Lilia’s even greater but the general, despite not showing any distress like the others, kept swivelling his head around trying to find whatever creature that had the rare ability to allude his keen ears. As the night drew on, the stars sunk deeper into the sky and the clouds would briefly cover the moon for a small second. Sebek tensed at the sudden light of two floating balls of flame, though he settled when he realised it was only Grim’s ears ‘cover them!’ he hissed, grabbing his cap to tuck the beast’s ears in. The cat growled in protest but was silenced by Yuu who quickly clamped their hand over his mouth. They soon approached a large opening in the road where a big, gnarly tree loomed in its centre. Somehow this tree seemed familiar to Sebek, was it something he had seen as a child? Or something from a fable his parents told him? Either way the tree disturbed him, dredging up a childlike fear in him, though Yuu didn’t appear to be bothered by this tree. Instead they approached it further along with the rest of the group, Lilia had his weapon out at the ready and so did the other soldiers. Suddenly there was a groan, admittedly Sebek and a few others leapt at the sound but it was only the swaying branches of the tree. They safely passed it and continued on their way, by now exhaustion began to overcome the group, what with their energy being sapped by the endless anxiety. It was when the younger members quietly stifled their yawns that Lilia decided that they will rest there, no fires and only sleep at intervals lest they’re ambushed by their unknown stalker. 

The night air was warm and humid, soon lulling the students and a soldier to sleep with Grim’s switching tail the only sign of life, even so they were hardly at peace for a short while as everyone was badly startled when they heard an unusual sound in the distance ‘that’s them’ Lilia murmurs, swiftly rising to his feet ‘sounds like they’re on a horse, so move quickly!’ there was no room for argument as everyone hastily got their bearings with only one question on their minds.

What was this thing tracking them?  It was something moving through the woods the way no wild animal, not even the Silver Owls could move. Perhaps it was a mercenary of sorts? Sebek couldn’t smell anything in the air, so he listened, there was that sound again. Lilia quietly gestured and everyone left the track for the protection of the trees, he led off again, faster, threading through the trees with a grace only someone like him could conjure. As much as possible they avoided rocks and tree roots where their boots would make a noise. If only they could find a cliff or ravine…

Sebek’s heart began to thump, there was something out there now, he could sense it, it was merely a gut feeling but he knew it was there. Following them. 

Then all of a sudden there it was. At first it was a crunchy tramp, then cutting through the night like a blade, there was a loud, long hiss, like something about to catch fire.

It's coming from a horse. Sebek realised. It sounded like it came from some weird twisted thing that could probably unhinge its jaw to create such a sound ‘move it!’ Lilia roars, throwing all caution to the window. In unison, everyone bolts into violent motion, in response the creature following them leaps into action as well, hooves thundered behind them. Sebek turns his head to see a creature shaped like a horse, only its head was made of cracked glass, with an inky substance leaking through said cracks. A golden noseband was welded to its head and with a fearful sting in his throat Sebek gazed at the doll-like figure atop the horse’s back, the same inky fluid dripped from under the knight’s helmet and mouth in rivelets. ‘Is that a phantom?!’ cried Yuu, they clutched onto Grim as they pushed to keep up with the others ‘we need to split up!’ Lilia yells over the chaos. 

With a swipe of his arm the three masked fae shot off into one direction while Sebek and Yuu followed Baul and Lilia. Away they fled, leaping over fallen logs and boulders though the phantom was rapidly catching up, they could now see that the rider wielded a wicked sword soaked in blot, the group’s fleeing forms reflecting on the blade ‘this way!’ Baul yells, promptly Sebek and Yuu slid behind a granite tor, pressing themselves as close to it as they could while Baul draped himself over them making sure that everyone was hidden. Above them, they heard the horse whinny and galloped past, Sebek winced slightly as Silver’s necklace dug into his skin.

They waited until the sound of deafening hooves faded away before slowly removing themselves from the rock ‘come on’ Lilia hisses ‘we’ll meet up with the others later.’

By some miracle they managed to find their way back to the creepy tree in the road, they paused at the tree’s trunk, all of them minus Lilia were gasping for breath ‘we must have lost him, but stay on guard it wouldn’t be the first he’s escaped my hearing’ Lilia says, tossing the students his canteen ‘don’t drink much, anyone who can’t keep up will be left behind’ nodding Sebek and Yuu both only took a small sip before handing it back ‘now does anyone know why there would be a phantom roaming around these parts of the woods’ Lilia asks no one in particular, he wanders around the tree, studying its creaking limbs and weaving roots ‘I don’t know why but it feels like it doesn’t belong here’

‘Obviously not because it’s an overblot’ Baul says snidely as Lilia was observing a large cavity at the base of the tree ‘you wouldn’t think it’s Silver would you?’ Yuu pipes up unexpectedly, Sebek feels his heart constrict. Yes, as much as he’d like to deny it, Silver did overblot, though no one saw what he became because he was swallowed by the strange darkness before the blot really took over him. But if it was Silver, then how did he return here? And why was he chasing them? Maybe it was Lord Malleus, sending his knight to capture him and Yuu to prevent Lilia from waking up. But Silver wouldn’t really do that, would he? 

‘Who knows I certainly hope not’ he replies fidgeting with Silver’s necklace, remembering their mission ‘it doesn’t matter who that phantom was, we just need to lose them so we can focus on waking Lilia’ then a sudden thought came to his head ‘yuu take this’ he says handing Yuu the necklace ‘what is-’

‘Silver gave it to me before he… left us. He wanted us to complete this mission so that’s what we’ll do and I believe that pendant shall be safer with you.’ because there was a deep feeling within him that said that the overblotted rider and his horse will return soon.

All of a sudden the tree began to tremble Sebek dragged Yuu away as the shadows in the tree’s cavity began to writhe like dark, lashing snakes ‘Lilia!’ Baul roared ‘get away from that!’ Lilia, who shook his head as if in a trance, soon came to his senses and stumbled away from the tree, but it was too late.

There was a loud whinny, the tree shook. And out leapt the overblot knight’s phantom, the rider kicking its ribs. Lilia threw himself back away from the beast but his hand accidentally brushed against the horse’s shoulder and as he tried to pull away, his blood froze as the phantom’s skin began to swallow his hand wedging it deep into the horse as it reared and pranced, repeatedly throwing Lilia off his feet thanks to his small stature ‘get out of here!’ he commands the others ‘go get everyone else, that’s an order!’ Baul hesitated but with a wild glare from the general he nodded, dragging the students along with him. Lilia fought off the horse and rider all the while trying to rip his hand out of the horse’s weird shoulder, but as he pushed with the other hand, it too got swallowed by the blot. Despite his rising panic Lilia suddenly felt a rush of drowsiness wash over him. What the hell?! Blinking his tired eyes he glances up to see the knight staring at him with a ferocity he’d only seen with the Zigvolts. They raised a hand, the sword mysteriously gone, and with a gentle tenderness they grabbed him from the back of his shirt and flung him over the horse’s wither. Lilia kicked feeably, this can’t possibly be how he’d be captured, he’s hardly done anything to defend himself, he’s…

The horse prances around in a frenzy before giving chase for the other dreamer.

[ffxvficrec]

2022 FFXV REVERSE BANG ROUND UP 3

You can also check out the collection here: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/FFXVReverseBang2022/works

We’ve listed pairings, archive warnings, and ratings, but please remember to mind the tags!

The Road at Night by Amarilly (Tookbaggins)

General Rating

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Ignis-centric

The fire burned low. With dinner long since finished and the glow of the campsite’s protective barrier casting a soft blue over them, Gladio didn’t bother to feed any more wood into the flames. There was no need - the night was warm and balmy. Noct and Prompto were huddled into each other across from him, shoulders pressed together as they scrolled through something on Noct’s phone. The little screen lit their faces with a light that felt harsh compared to that of the wards. Ignis was finishing up what little cleanup their dinner required. It was peaceful and familiar. Until Gladio broke the silence. “Too bad we had to stop here…”

The Dread Sagefire by Thuri

Mature Rating

No Archive Warnings Apply

Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia

A pirate they call him. So be it. He’ll take the title as he takes everything else he can from them. He’ll take it all, every last coin and jewel and dagger. Never will it equal what King Mors has taken from him.

Princeling of Power by LadyNightingGaleofMilvania

Teen Rating

No Archive Warnings Apply

Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia

“Sometimes you’re my advisor, and then other times you’re more like my mother! Why the hell can’t you just be my boyfriend?!” Noctis yelled, angry tears streaming from his eyes. “Because more often than not, I’m far more than just your boyfriend! Noctis, I love you, but my job goes beyond our companionship or relationship! At the end of the day, you knew I would have to not only be your partner, but your advisor still!” Ignis threw back, gritting his teeth as he, too, fought against the tears that burned his eyes. “Can’t you just be my boyfriend for two minutes without being my advisor at the same time? Are you even capable of that?! Six, sometimes I wish those stories my dad read us as kids were real and the fae could just take you away and bring someone else!” Ignis, whose mouth was open to throw back a retort, shut quickly as his jaw set tight. There were wet spots on his glasses to go with the tear tracks that now shone on his face. “Sometimes I wish the same thing, if only to see you happier.”

What's A Brother For? by WhoStarLocked

General Rating

No Archive Warnings Apply

Aera Mirus Fleuret/Ardyn Izunia

Gilgamesh/Somnus Lucis Caelum

Ardyn is enjoying his and Aera’s engagement party when he notices Somnus looking rather down in the dumps. Will Ardyn be able to help his brother out of his mood, and what will happen if he does?

A Shield's Future by Marlingrl

Mature Rating

Graphic Depictions of Violence

Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum

Noctis has brought back the dawn, but his sacrifice sends ripples throughout Eos. His Shield, Gladiolus Amacita struggles to determine what's next.

In A Sea Of Starflowers by KatrinaEagle

General Rating

No Archive Warnings Apply

Lunafreya Nox Fleuret & Noctis Lucis Caelum

Noctis Lucis Caelum & Regis Lucis Caelum

He opens his eyes. Bright yellow stars dance in his vision, winking in the soft glow of the sun. The sky is a perfect shade of dusk, the washes of blue and pink and orange dotted with wispy clouds. The breeze is fresh and cool on his skin, ruffling his long fringe out of his face. This is how Noctis Lucis Caelum knows that he is dead.

It always starts from somewhere by Redfoxline

Teen Rating

Graphic Depictions of Violence

Ravus Nox Fleuret/Ignis Scientia

To Ignis' surprise, Ravus snorted loudly. "Really? Didn't you spend a year on the road after Insomnia's fall?" “Well," Ignis admitted, feeling like the city boy he had been in front of the brazen wildness of Leide all those years ago," we were lucky to have a mechanic helping us.” If Ignis had been asked to pinpoint the moment he had started to understand Ravus, it wouldn't have been when the man had reached Tent City for the first time, a wave of refugees in tow, nor when he had fought along Ignis' side for the first time. It would have been the moment when they had stood together in front of that open trunk. If Ravus was to say when he had first started to fancy Ignis - although never aloud - he would have chosen that moment too.

Paranoid Android by Bramblepelt

Mature Rating

Graphic Depictions of Violence

Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum

Prompto has many regrets. By the end of this story, he'll have a lot more.

The stars incline us, they do not bind us by farbsturz

General Rating

No Archive Warnings Apply

Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum

After the restoration of light and Noctis’ survival, Lucis was safe. Prompto, bothered by a letter that promised him answers to the secret imprinted on his wrist, left his home to investigate an abandoned facility in the depths of Niflheim. He couldn’t have guessed what would await him. Or who.

The Choice of What is Right by allihearisradiogaga

Teen Rating

No Archive Warnings Apply

Ardyn Izunia & Somnus Lucis Caelum

Ardyn Izunia & Noctis Lucis Caelum

Ardyn, Somnus, and Noctis each face a series of expectations, duties, and destinies associated with the Caelum line. As each of their lives is shaped by the lives of the others, they work to create the futures they believe to be right.

[burntblanc]

Norwood Forest

The trees surrounding the forest clearing were grand in size, both tall and wide. Their long branches stretched upwards into the sky and surpassed the clouds. The thick roots that were embedded deep within the earth were rumored to reach the heart of nature itself, which gave the trees strength and an otherworldly liveliness.

A gust of wind blew through the forest, rustling the leaves. Once it quieted for a moment, a gentle breeze began to flow that carried soft whispers of another language from tree to tree and from plant to plant. Playful laughter that sounded like windchimes danced between the forest and its creatures.

The snapping of a twig hushed the woods.

A man in black boots stepped into the clearing, who was accompanied by a black horse that had a white, illegible symbol that was center on its forehead. The man looked around from side to side several times, slowly examining his surroundings. The horse's gaze followed wherever the man looked, which eventually fell upon two moss-covered tree stumps that were in the middle of the forest clearing.

The man looked at the horse and pet the top of its head. "I think we're clear, Franklin. Let's go." The horse nodded and followed the man who took slow and careful steps closer to the tree stumps. After pulling a piece of parchment from a pocket on the front of his jacket, the man cleared his throat.

"Lo'té fae, revelare magik."

The ground began rumbling as laughter echoed in the forest. The tree stumps shook and started to glow as they grew taller and thinner. They became thick roots, twisted and tangled together as they connected in an arch up high in the air. There was nothing between the archway – nothing that could be seen by the human eye.

The man approached the opening with his hand stretched out. Before he stepped within six feet of the arch, he was yanked backwards by both arms – while nothing was around him.

He landed with his back on the ground and groaned. He struggled to open his eyes and found a tiny being with wings hovering above him.

"Unknown is the fate of those who awaken the fae." The small creature grinned and blew a mist of dust into his eyes.

He tried to yell and swat at it, but he couldn't move or speak. Instead, he felt incredibly sleepy. When he closed his eyes, he quickly drifted into the deepest slumber of his life.

[aeon-harshal]

Winged Bluejay

Not long after a great tragedy, a young horsewoman, Asha Fliecer longs for a change. What springs to mind is a mirror of her closest friend’s dream- To become a Gryphon Rider for Cor'vale- and it does not seem all that impossible with her affinity for animals.

However a different change falls into her lap one autumn morning and it rattles her to her core, making her think twice about leaving her family home.

 With an amnesiac half-elf recovering under her care, two wildly dangerous fae creatures lurking on her ranch and the sudden threat of bandits, her resolve is tested as the world outside her quiet village suddenly turns its attention onto the Raven’s Bluff.

First draft of Chapter 1 below (approximately 3,035 words), some spelling errors may have slipped through and it's missing Italics

<>-Chapter 1 An Autumn Lament-<>

"Hey! Get back here you scrawny chipmunk!" Alexos yelled after Asha, struggling to keep up as they climbed a massive oak tree.

"I ain't scrawny and you know it! You're just slow, like the lumbering ox you are!" She yelled down at him, climbing out onto one of the highest branches to sit. Aside from her friend's complaining it was a beautifully serene meadow they were on the edge of. The crisp breeze was singing through the trees, sending her raven hair dancing, and the happy birds and giddy insects added their voices to the song. Asha looked up through the leaves, the blue sky was perfect, there were only a handful of white puffy clouds sleepily drifting overhead.

Alexos grunted and cursed, covered with a dozen new scratches, as he finally caught up, picking a branch a bit lower than hers. "I don't understand how you can climb this tree like you're a damn elf," he said while squirming to get comfortable.

"I don't understand how you can't do the same," Asha laughed, "We've been playing in the woods together for years, yet I'm the one who can climb like a squirrel."

"Hey! I had to wraggle horses, you only ever had to train them and you did it the soft way," He pointed at her, smirking in that annoying way he always did, his dark green eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Just be quiet or he won't come," Asha huffed, smiling while she crossed her arms over her chest. Her balance never failed her, even with the branches trembling in this pleasant autumn wind.

Every spring and autumn for the last five years he came by this spot. Asha found him by accident, but he was just so stunning with his tawny mane, bright golden eyes and ashen skin. He would talk, sing and strut. She loved him so very much and could not wait to see him this year. It would be the last time she ever would… and she wished to share him with Alexos.

"I really wish you would tell me who I'm meeting," Alexos grumbled, running his fingers through his hair. It was almost the same color as his mane.

"Didn't I tell you to shush?" He laughed at her and she shook her head.

A harsh screech made them both jump. Asha smiled and Alexos looked all around, his brows knitted together. He turned towards her mouthing 'what'. She merely put a finger to her lips. He was skittish, so meeting a stranger might scare him off and this would all be for naught.

Not long after that cry, the heavy beating of large wings passed by, a shadow and a large brown body sailing past their tree. There he was! A stunning example of a gryphon flying gracefully over the meadows, smoothly turning on the edge of the trees, circling before he decided to land.

He was magnificent! His large onyx talons dug into the ground and he held his head up high. He shook his head, ears falling back and the massive, light brown plumage around his neck flattened. His body was a spotty mess of creamy and barky browns. Most every gryphon had a different avian look to it. His was like that of a tawny eagle.

He stopped his posing to scan the treetops for her, his head turning as though hunting for prey.

Asha glanced over at Alexos. His jaw hit the ground. She giggled and immediately the beautiful gryphon's head swung around, his eyes locking onto her. She whistled at him and he shook his head from side to side, his mane proofing up and he made the sweetest thrilling sound, hopping towards the oak, leaping like his feline half would.

"Stay here. I'll let you know when to come down and keep quiet," Asha said, pushing her friend with her foot. He grabbed the beach tightly, barely keeping from making a sound as instructed. He had wanted to see a gryphon up close since he was little, and now Asha comes and delivers one? He would be heartbroken to screw up and miss out on the opportunity!

The girl climbed down just as quickly as she had climbed up, hopping down the last couple of feet. She whipped around grinning at the creature who stood transfixed on her. "Hawke," she called, taking a few steps towards the gryphon.

He stood in place, perfectly still. Then made another great leap towards her, wings flaring. As he landed, leaving a fair stretch between them still, he lifted his head up and warbled. She discovered through him that gryphons had a far wider range of sounds they could make compared to the raptors they shared traits with. They were almost like song birds.

Asha beamed, "Good boy," she closed the distance, reaching a hand out for him. Hawke huffed, pushing his beautiful beak against her hand as she neared, the fathers on his head fluffing up for a moment. "How have you been?" She asked, touching both sides of his beak as one would do with the jowls of a dog.

Alexos starred in shock. When did his friend learn how to whisper to gryphons! He joked about her way with horses, but this was truly impressive! And she talked to the beast rather like a pet. Suddenly Asha turned his way, waving a hand, "C'mon, just take it slow and don't look him directly in the eyes."

"Right," Alexos mumbled only to flinch as the gryphon's attention instantly shifted to him. He swallowed and started climbing down. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. That magnificent beast was a top predator… and all his attention was focused on him! How did Asha ever befriend him?

The young man turned around slowly, facing his head slightly away and tried not to look the Gryphon in the eye. He was an amazing creature. With his head held high like that he was taller than Asha and Alexos.

"Be nice, Hawke. Alexos is a friend," Asha spoke softly, gently brushing the back of her hand against the Gryphon's head. Even as her fingers traced the top of his ear, Hawke's attention did not falter, flicking his ear to be rid of the pitiful distraction. Alexos' heart was beating out of his chest, every step a step closer to danger. Asha seemed calm, so maybe everything was fine. The gryphon's focus was merely like that of any bird of prey, intense and unyielding.

"Stop and put your hand out," Asha's heart was dancing to it's own wild song. She did not believe Hawke would attack, but then she had never introduced anyone to him before. She knew she did not truly understand him, however gryphons were famed for their intelligence, were they not? He was friendly enough towards her, he trusted her right? He should be able to see how frightened her friend was, how respectful both him and her were trying to be of the regel creature.

Alexos did as she instructed, his arm trembling. Air hissed through Hawke's nostrils, his feathers fairing. Both humans froze. The gryphon lunged his break against the palm of Alexos' hand, chittering sweetly. Asha and Alexos both let go of a tense breath, both laughing somewhat hysterically at the tame behavior from Hawke.

 "See? He's a friend," the girl grinned, taking a step back. Her legs wobbled as her fear began to subside. If she had gotten her friend killed while trying to share this treasure with him- but she had not.

"Are you talking to me or the gryphon?" Alexos chuckled, petting Hawke's beak. The gryphon seemed happy to have the attention from the strange human. If anything he appeared to want more attention from him, like an affectionate house cat or a loving dog.

"Both of you, I suppose," Asha shook her head. "Now who's the soft one? I befriended a wild gryphon and you were shaking in your boots."

"Haha, ya got lucky finding a friendly beast like… Hawke was it? You named him?" Alexos asked with an incredulous tone and she shrugged. Said gryphon thrilled, pulling his head away from the human's hand, then began sidestepping around him. All the way around him and Asha.

The two humans watched him curiously. "He's… kinda like a giant cat isn't he?" Alexos asked, struggling to hold back laughed as Hawke genuinely turned into a playful kitten, bouncing around them, obviously looking to play.

Asha chuckled. "I guess you can call him a big cat. He is part cat isn't he?" She turned and jumped at Hawke. He skirted back, half sitting before rearing up and hopping back on his hind legs, shrieking at a tolerable level.

Alexos flinched, rubbing his ears anyway. "How did you do it, Ash? How did you tame a gryphon?" He looked towards his friend, hopelessly confused. This tiny girl who might have always been an animal whisperer had somehow befriended a deadly, wild beast…  the kind of beast everyone knew only took to those with something special in them.

"I'm not really sure," Asha answered, rubbing her neck, focused on Hawke. The gryphon was a little saddened that she did not continue the play, but did not become aggressive in his attempts to earn her attention. He leapt closer than backwards, closer again than turned and ran a few feet before turning back around, wanting to entice her into the games they always played. "I just… have a way with animals?" She smiled sheepishly at her friend.

Alexos tilted his head. He smiled and shook his head, crossing his arms. "Ash, I know you got a way with critters, but this isn't just any critter. It's a gryphon. Please, tell me what you did!" 

"I just..! Talked to him!" Asha threw her hands up. Hawke stopped to watch, tilting his head as he listened. "I found him by chance when I was in that tree!" She pointed at the oak they waited in. "He came down, I was frightened and kept quiet as long as I could. 'Till he spotted me and I just… eventually came down while talking and he let me. I dunno what I did aside from keeping a calm head… kinda… and I guess he's just the friendly sort. I've seen other gryphons pass through, pairs of 'em, and they're much too aggressive. I would never dare to let them see me, so I wait for Hawke."

Alexos listened in awe. "I can't believe it, you tamed a gryphon. I wish you knew what you did. It might make it easier for me to get into the imperial academy in Azurlaise."

She chuckled. "Still want to be a gryphon rider?"

"Of course I do!" He spoke vehemently. "C'mon Ash, tell me everything. I want to hear it."

"I really don't know… I'm sorry I can't help you more," Asha smiled sadly. She turned her gaze back towards Hawke. He moved in a playful manner again, seemingly hoping to entice her into playing. Maybe she should have paid closer attention to what she did, she could have helped them both pursue their dreams.

"Ash," Alexos waited for her to look at him. "What's wrong?" He could see it in her eyes and hear that sad note in her voice.

"I'm… I'm leaving after winter," She answered without hesitation, her eyes alighting with somber determination.

His eyes widened. Asha leave Raven's Bluff? That was… "Wait, what? You're leaving?"

"I'm leaving as soon as spring comes. Sure I'm a good horsewoman, but this life was never meant for me and without my father or brothers around, or even you," she gestured to him, "or your family, everyone's going to just keep trying to swindle me. It's tiring having to go through the same arguments and disagreements with people who think they can get my horses for less than they're worth. I'm gettin' to the point I want to hit my buyers for thinking I don't know that they're trying to talk down to me."

He sighed, rubbing his neck, "I suppose that's true, but- Asha where are you gonna go? What are you gonna do?"

"Well… I tamed a wild gryphon," she smiled sheepishly, pointing at Hawke. "I think I like the idea of becoming a rider for Azurlaise."

"I- you got a point, but… what if you don't make it in? You'd be alone in Azurlaise," Alexos was hesitant to even speak against her, he never wanted to put her down, but he had to be realistic. He could not imagine his friend alone in Azurlaise, there were too many things that could happen to her in the capitol.

"Then come with me!" Asha shouted. Hawke stopped what he was doing to watch the two humans. "You've talked about becoming a rider since we were both little. So- come with me, we can do it together! Even if only one of us is accepted, then the other tries again the following year," her enthusiasm brought a smile to his face.

"And if neither of us makes it? What then?"

Her spirit faltered for a moment and his heart sank in response. Asha shook her head. "We'll figure it out if it comes to it, 'Lexos."

He sighed, running a hand through his tawny hair, "You got a lotta faith in our ability to improvise."

"Well, someone has to!" She shouted, throwing her hands up. Hawke shrieked and sprang in between them, hackles raised and beak ajar, hissing at Alexos. He closed in quickly too. The human flinched, stumbling back while instinctually raising his arms to protect his face. "Hawke, no..!" Asha tried speaking calmly, "No, no, it's fine!"

The Gryphon glanced her way then back towards Alexos. He huffed, shutting his sharp beak, but did not leave his spot between the humans and his feathers remained raised in agitation.

Asha sighed followed by Alexos. "You're a damn miracle worker, Ash. Look at this! A wild gryphon trying to protect you," the boy chuckled, rubbing his neck.

"Well if you weren't such a moron," Asha grinned like a feline.

"Hey..!" Alexos smiled reluctantly. She snorted and they both broke out into laughter. The sound confused Hawke for a moment… he recognized it was a good sound, but… well as long as his person seemed safe. The gryphon purred, tucking his wings in and his feathers slowly flattening as he calmly slipped away.

The humans both smiled. "So, Ash. Next spring we march into Azurlaise, demand that they make us Gryphon riders and fly off into the sunset?" Alexos scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Indeed! Something like that," Asha beamed, "I'll need to get my affairs in order...  I've been working on it all this year."

"I thought your stock of horses was getting lower than it should be. You haven't been settling for less have you?"

"You know me better than that. Now there's also the house-"

"Woah! Hold on, slow down… you'll want to keep that just in case of… whatever might happen. It might be nice to be able to come home to your home."

"I-! I suppose that sounds nice, but it'll just rot with me being away."

"Let my father rent it out for you… in fact, I bet if you talked with him, he could take care of your horses. Sell 'em, breed 'em. A few free horses from your stock would do my family some good since I won't be around to help and Rory could do with more work. You'll still get plenty of money for them, but you'll have to share the profits."

"That money would be a while away… but it would be nice knowing that there's something waiting here if I need it."

They eventually settled down in the field discussing what to do with Asha's property and how exactly they would share the coins to get them to the capital city. Alexos himself had been saving for years now for his own trip to Azurlaise, so it was not a one sided exchange. All the while Hawke flitted about, entertaining himself for the most part. He would come by and beg for a few scratches and head pats before going off to flop around and preen.

They ceased their conversation to simply watch the graceful gryphon mill about like a giant kitten in the afternoon sun. He was a heartwarming sight… and perhaps if Asha was capable of taming a wild gryphon, the exams to become a rider might be easy for them.

All three of them froze however. The loud, shrill call of another gryphon came from overhead. Asha and Alexos both looked to the sky, instinctively searching for the sourse. Hawke gave his own call in response, wings flaring. He leapt into the air, his wings beating heavily as he took to the air. Asha and Alexos stared in awe. Hawke circled the meadow until another gryphon joined him. They were roughly equal in size, however the newcomer was more reddish than Hawke. They both slowed, beating their massive wings to stay in place somewhat. Hawke looked at the humans and thrilled, tossing his head back. The other looked between him and the humans curiously.

Hawke thrilled again, eyes focused on Asha. The girl smiled and whistled at him. That seemed to please him. He turned and both gryphons took off, off to wherever gryphons went during the winter months.

Alexos chuckled watching them until they were past the treeline, well out of sight. He turned to look at Asha and frowned seeing the sad look upon her face.

"I'm gonna miss him," she sighed, pulling her knees to her chest, resting her head on her arms.

He patted her back. "Yeah… I think I will too… but at least you had time with him. And you can brag to everyone about him."

She scoffed, a slight smile forming on her lips. "Oh no… nobody would believe little Asha could tame a wild gryphon, but you mister Alexos? Everyone would believe you did it."

"Nonsense!" He waved a hand dismissively. "Only with your help, Ash," he beamed at her.

Reluctantly, she let herself smile. "Obviously."