#his self deprivation but also ability to fool others into thinking hes a gift is a talent he never should've had

[hellomagicalsouls]

having comfort characters that aren't comfortable sucks. like what do you mean you got kidnapped and your family didn't notice and you got stuck in vietnam and watched the love of your life die.

well shit, i can't complain about anything ever again.

[gwynrielsupremacist]

A COURT OF LIGHT AND SHADOWS

Chapter 2: Reason

Read it at AO3

Masterlist

If it were up to Azriel, right now he would rather be juggling burning knives.

Blindfolded.

And in a dark room.

They were in the huge alcove of the High Lord of the Night Court, as Rhysand removed shirts and jackets from his dressing room that he claimed were appropriate for Cassian's attire at his ceremony.

Although Azriel, sitting in one of the chairs that were nearby, watching the scene with his chin on his hands, he was rethinking why he thought this would be a good idea.

After the 'incident' with Elain and Rhys, he had made up his mind that he would never think of Elain that way again.

Of course, that was rather difficult when she was always where the Spymaster passed.

Was he going to the kitchen? Elain would be there with Nuala and Cerridwen.

Was he going to the living room? Elain would be there with Feyre and Nyx.

Possibly one day he would find her in his bed, wearing lingerie, as a gift just for hia enjoyment, tearing off the tiny pieces of undergarments and-

"Azriel?" The sound of his name brought him out of his trance. "Have you been paying attention to something I've said in the last 20 minutes?" 

He knew that his shadows, moving slowly over his neck, covered any variation of his arousal but, just in case, he watched Rhysand's reaction, knowing if he knew the reason for his daydreaming, he would be enraged.

However, Rhys's face revealed absolutely nothing, only joy for his brother and bewilderment on the part of the Shadowsinger.

Usually Azriel was the one who had to warn his brothers to pay attention to him, not the other way around.

He shook his head to Cassian's question, to which he sighed, visibly tired and irritated: "I was wondering if navy would look better than black, but I have no idea what Nesta would like." He muttered. Apparently having a mating ceremony wasn't all the color of roses. "I'll stick with the black one, I  don't think the suit will last long after we go to that cabin." He announced as he and Rhys gave each other knowing glances, grinning mischievously.

That was another arrow to his badly wounded heart.

He was happy for his brothers, of course he was.  There was no other male who deserved a mate as much as Rhys and Cassian, but ...

What about him?

Azriel stopped intervening in the conversation at that moment. He usually did not want to participate in those conversations, but it seemed that that day he was the worst of all.

"The worst day will be the mating ceremony, Shadowsinger. You must prepare for that day if you do not want to fall from grace" Recommended their shadows.

It was true. There would be no worse day than the ceremony.

With Rhys's ceremony it had been the same. As soon as the ceremony was over, he had to go to a Sex club to get rid of the arousal and despair that he felt throughout his body.

It was not fair. Was the Cauldron so macabre?

Had he done so much harm to the world that they deprived him of the experience of having a mate?

He swallowed silently, keeping his face mask neutral, no emotion leaving his face.

He thanked whoever had given him that ability, it was fucking useful at times like these.

Three hours later, Cassian ended up deciding what costume to wear, the black one, and the conversation between the commander and the High Lord died as well.

Cassian left, muttering that he had forgotten something in the House of Wind, although it was possibly an excuse.

The atmosphere in the room had quickly become charged, before the challenging stares of those two.

Although Azriel supposed that he should stay away from the House as well, since he did not need his shadows to tell him that it had served him with a double purpose, he was probably going to fuck Nesta until they both could not hold on foot.

Azriel started to get up, but was prevented by a force in his chest from Rhysand.

"Maybe he had found out about my scent change, after all." He guessed, preparing his best poker face for the onslaught the High Lord was going to bring him.

They stared at each other, studying possible reactions, waiting for who was the first to speak.  Things had gotten tense on their part since Solstice.

Azriel knew, as did Rhysand, that no matter how much he wanted to possess Elain's body, he would never betray Rhysand. Punch him, maybe.  But he will never betray his High Lord.

"I notice you are somewhat distracted, Azriel."  The High Lord commented, sitting down on a chair and intertwining his fingers, dropping them into his lap. "I hope there were no overnight escapades on either side." Rhysand knew perfectly well what he was talking about.

Like Azriel.

"None. I did what you asked." He secured, leaning back, with the advantage that the High Lord didn't know that in reality, his thoughts were a hell of 'wills and cannot'.

Rhysand nodded slightly, rising from his chair, to which Azriel copied the movement.

Azriel knew he shouldn't be fooling around when Rhysand was in that mode, but he couldn't help but feel like a hypocrite.

"You took Feyre away from Tamlin when she still thought she loved him. Elain doesn't love Lucien, yet you separate her from me." Azriel thought. He knew those thoughts didn't make any sense, but right now he was the only thing he could think about.

His shadows were scattered around the room, ready to attack if something happened to his master, while some were on his shoulders, caressing the area in tension.

"I want to keep it that way." Rhysand emphasized, walking ahead of him, silently asking him to follow. He did it. "Things are going bad, Azriel, I don't need any more trouble than is inevitable."

"What problems?" This one answered. "According to my spies, Koschei hasn't shown any signs of life, so I don't see what a problem there could be."

"That Koschei is not showing signs of life does not mean that he is not operating in secret." He suggested, walking into the nursery, with Nyx in the crib, sleeping peacefully.

The High Lord's face changed dramatically.

It was no longer the face of the most powerful High Lord in history. It was the face of a father watching a son, with awe and love in it.

"I can't bear that my son has to spend his early years with that bastard of Koschei in the middle."

"We will protect it." Azriel confirmed, also looking at the small bundle wrapped in sheets. "I will protect him with my own life, if necessary."

Rhysand looked into his eyes, and in a pleading voice, he said:

"Do you understand then? Why I ask you to separate from Elain?" As much as he hated doing that, he nodded. "I cannot allow jealousy and desires to be put through the protection of the court. Things are bad enough to make them worse."

As much as it was hard to keep his gaze neutral, he continued to nod, but anger crept through his mind, clouding his reason.

"And how much trouble would Elain and I have?"

Rhysand was silent for a moment. Azriel guessed

he was steadying himself so as not to punch him in front of his son's bed. Instead of doing so, he asked:

"I don't want you to avoid the question. You are not going to avoid the question." The High Lord manifested. "What the hell happened with Mor, Az?

That theme again.

"Why whenever we talk about Elain, do you end up talking about Mor?" The Spymaster snarled, the shadows preparing to attack, noting the tension in the environment.

"I do it because you have completely forgotten Mor, Azriel. You have been in love with her for over 500 years." He remembered. "I can't believe you traded Mor for Elain in so little time."

"And why do you fucking care?" He growled again, backing away from the room for fear of waking the boy.

"Mor is my cousin, Azriel, and I think I deserve an explanation. Have you given up? And now I suppose Elain will be the consolation prize, right?

It took Azriel more of the self-control he possessed not to slam his fist into the High Lord's nose. If he hadn't been his superior, Rhysand would be bleeding badly right now.

"Elain will never be a consolation prize." He barked, leaving the house and spreading his wings to fly up, but was interrupted by Rhys's hand on his arm, an anchor holding him to the ground.

"Give me a reason."  He started to say. "Tell me one fucking reason why Elain deserves to be your mate, and not Lucien's."

"Are you comparing me to… to that one?" He murmured in a voice icy and deadly, the voice that sent chills to the poor people who had to listen to it. Rhysand didn't even flinch.

"You are both different and equal at the same time." He evaded, then returning to the initial question. "Give me a logical reason, and I will allow Elain to stay with you."

Baring his teeth at him, Azriel leapt, taking flight and away from those feelings, roaring with rage when he realized that he had not a single reason to be worthy of Elain.

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[womens-anonymous]

what's your net-net-net worth?

I think I need to start all of my dates in honor of Drake’s “In my feelings” track- What’s your net worth? From there I can determine if I should continue relations not solely based on the value provided, but more importantly, if that value matches up with his market value. What I’ve come to learn about men is that they severely lack the internal reflection of what they can and are willing to contribute to a partnership. This lack of internal reflection causes them to over-estimate their market value. Over-estimating mens are likes of 50 Cent, Future, Ryan Lotche, and Bow Wow whereas the contrary are the likes of Lance Gross, Denzel Washington, and Ryan Gosling.  Over-estimation of one’s market value can cause them to think they “God’s ONLY gift to the world”, more than worthy to have access to any woman they desire, also find women and their contributions to be easily disposable or taken for granted. Typically women under-estimate their market value because they don’t want to intimate or “scare a man away”. Women would rather play small, into the comfort of a man’s ego because it’s safe and non confrontational. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with women that play small or men that think they are God’s gift, but if these mannerism are done at the expense of yourself, or to degrade your significant other or at the approval of your significant other, that is not okayyy.

I attribute this observation to familial and societal conditioning of women being givers and men as being takers. Women will cook, clean, go to work, wrangle children, and lay it down in the bedroom all for the man that gets the big piece of chicken for dinner. While men lay in the position of expectancy- for the big piece of chicken, adoration from his lover, praise of for his professional accomplishments and wealth attainment, your forgiveness without resentment, for you to never leave or forsake him, and for you to make yourself cum! Women typically position themselves to give and prove that they are worthy of what I call the immaculate transaction. Now the immaculate transaction is not a wedding ring, no.  Its the day a man decides to give of themselves. And when I say give, nothing of material like flowers, dinner or stuff. The act of giving is to relinquish the power of knowing why something is needed, yet drowns, sacrifices, or fulfills that need knowing it meets the expectation of someone. The gift of love is to drown to something bigger than yourself. To give without the expectancy for something in return. Giving requires one to choose, want and desire to be something better than. This act of giving should feel like an out of body experience. This doesn’t have to be something big like commitment or love, it can simply be unrequited support or consistent genuine care, hell, even an orgasm! Doing such a thing requires a man to be vulnerable, willing, and fearless. I don’t see this in the men I’ve been dating as of lately.  I’ve encountered an array of men at different phases of their life, and what they all have in common is this arrogant pursuit to uncover my net worth and assets for their gain only. And It’s actually a violating experience. I’ve been on dates that could have been mistaken for job interviews. The interview question assess my skillset, student loan debt, and my contributions to his prestige. When I turn around and ask, “what do you bring to the table?”, I get a lot of uh’s, aggressive retorts, “what you means” or if I’m lucky “you got me fucked up’s”.  This one guy’s investigative journalism skills was so tough, I wasn’t sure if he was inquiring the essence of me or the presence of me. I think there is nothing more beautiful than for a man to allow me to reveal myself to him, as he should do to me. It’s truly frustrating and disheartening because I don't think men are aware of vitriol they inflict when they run through you- your emotional headspace, your intellectual bedroom, your beautiful heart to then depart your home with nasty parting words- “ I ain’t like the way yo shit was set up in here anyway.”

Men take and take, and women break and break. I was that woman that gave so much and neglected myself and sanity. But I gave up this form of self destruction after the last one came through and ran a muck. Like a fool in love, I would let him back in countless times. And he shitted on my shit countless times. But that last time, I had enough. I didn't let him back in because I recognized that we weren’t building a partnered space.  All of that shit in that “partnered” house was my shit- and I had enough of him shitting on MY SHIT. Its so crucial for women to claim ownership of the home they built within themselves and recognize the possessions they lended to the partnered home. Ownership allows us to defend, by any means necessary, or share because we know where it comes from and has the ability for rebirth. Women are constantly dying to themselves, to be rebirth again. Thats the essence of a woman; fiercely protective yet willing and able to give light/life. That man who acted a fool in MY house was simultaneously building his own house, however, it wasn’t ready for my presence, hence why I never got an invitation nor could he contribute to our “partnered” space. He wasn’t ready to give of himself; He wasn’t ready to share his space, bedroom, heart with me at full access. His ego guarded his front door until I stopped knocking (I was actually banging on that door). Not until I walked away, accepted that the immaculate transaction was not to come, He began to give, but by that time it was too late for me.

An article titled “Black Men aren’t providers because allow them to be contributors” was circling my newsfeed this past week and caused me to reflect  on my contribution to the enabling of men’s subpar, unequivocally matched engagement with me. The article caused me to reflect on a recent discussion I had with a guy, who decided to stop dating me this past January.... We agreed to meet for dinner and discuss a business challenge I’m encountering and could use his help on. As we are walking to the restaurant, small talk quickly leads to a “proposal” he’d like to give me over dinner. Over dinner, he proposes that we have a child, “send it off to the soccer academy in London, and recoup our invest by the age 16 when he joins the league. Tax shelter you know” The tone and facial expression this man had during the proposal was serious and calculated in every way. Because I’m ignorant, I laughed in his face and said “you have got to be kidding me, yo, you cant be serious.” And he wasn’t playing- he proceeded to sell the idea to me “I can take care of us, you are young enough to get your body back, we’d have a tax credit for the kid, you have good hair, your family would like me...” Not once did this man ever inquire my aspirations of a family, partnership, willingness, fears, and vulnerabilities- even when we did date.  All he knew and care to know was my “financial portfolio” because he already performed a risk analysis on it. Results came back that I was a low risk case because I got goals and shit to lose, just like him. Therefore the balanced risk would be shared. Once I got the shocking giggles out of me, I told him, “We would and could never work because we don’t share the same views and goals for our life projections.”

Don’t get me wrong, he’s a sweetheart. His gentle, light hearted demeanor reminds me of Sterling K Brown’s character on This is Us Television Show. On paper, he checks out- Master’s Degree, good work ethic, generous, and socially aware. But emotionally bankrupt, spiritually deprived, and hopelessly securing any love with the least effort. These traits are the archetype of takers. All they bring to the table is the “ability to provide.” “Provide” in his case, is money, but some of these other dudes say that word and mean bullshit, drama, confusion. Check it, there is nothing wrong with bringing home the bacon fellas, and ladies if that works for you, please do you boo! But for me, that’s not all I require and deserve. As a high earning, academically excelling Black woman in America, I recognize that I am apart of a demographic that is now surpassing the economic and educational threshold black men have yet to surpass. I don't say this braggadociously- I say it with great pride as I know that I am a descent of slave women, that transitioned  into housemaids, then eventually entered industry’s that never wanted us like Science, Technology, Mathematics and Engineering, all while taking care of some muhfuggin kids! It is my duty to widen the door of opportunity for my Black brothers that have been stripped and undergirded of their contribution to society because of the manifestation of slavery, voters rights, mass incarceration, and systems of oppression. I get it, the shits hard and fucked up. Instead of having a chip on your shoulder because you “pulled yourself up by the bootstraps”, “aren’t a statistic”, “ have a master’s Degree and earring six figures”, “ not ready to give it all up for the wrong chick”, try sharing, giving, and being more than what you and world expects of you. It doesn’t hurt to give life/love, die by your own sword, knowing that you will be reborn again to see another day, give another day. Simply saying you want to be a financial provider in a family household may not cut it with a millennial Black women. Leaving the laborious emotional development for the mother to accomplish with y'all offspring aint enough no more. Picking up the kids when Mom can’t, aint cool no more. Your preference to go dutch on a date isn’t going to save you from rejection. You earning more than me doesn’t substitute for your lack of emotional responsibility in the building of a relationship or family. Me earning more than you doesn't subject you to domestic duties either. 

I’ve come to understand that equality in genders and their roles may never be, but the dynamic equitable balance is something I’m willing to negotiate. Therefore ladies, know your true market value and demand an equitable contract with these mens. Don’t get caught up with the car sales pitch; ask the hard questions, seek the absolute truth. Hopefully this will force men to reconcile their shitty marketing scheme, humble thy self, and commits to a transaction that is cashless yet doesn’t bounce.

Be safe out here

-Issa Molly xo