#i'm learning soooooo much

[shiqingxuanz]

the skywalker twins

[flugame-mp3]

they should NOT let you listen to hozier on your period when u have a significant other. i listened to uiscefhuaraithe and thought about them and nearly cried (i last saw them genuinely about 20 minutes ago and i spent all day hanging out with them and staring at them lovingly)

[a-tale-of-legends]

Beryl team concept.....Chat I think I'm cooking.

[shenzaibird-art]

So here's actually the first pic I drew of Verloren after the redesign headshot! That means this pic is almost one year old now, what!! A lot of things bother me about it because this actually started as a "quick sketch", and also I still hadn't figured out his shapes back then. Also maybe it's because I've stared at this pic too much since it's been my desktop wallpaper since last July lol

---

Alone

Story-text under the cut because it's kinda long

As Verloren had killed the king and every person who would have been a candidate to replace him, the responsibility for ruling the kingdom now fell upon him, a responsibility that he did not wish to take, for he never had any interest in ruling. But if there was no way out of being king, he thought maybe he could use some help, so he turned to Sellatrix, the only person he ever trusted and the only one who didn't hate him. They had been very close, and he considered her a true friend, or perhaps almost something a little more than that. So in a move surprisingly daring even for him, he asked Sellatrix if she would like to be his queen.

Sellatrix was conflicted. It was difficult for her to deny her feelings for him, and the two of them did make quite a pair. But the pleasant moments they once had, like playing games or talking under the moonlight about the most random things, now felt like something of the past. After all this spilled blood, all the victims he made and all he was yet to make, she knew there would never be peace again. There was no place in his future for things to ever be as they once were.

So betraying her own heart but following the wiser path, Sellatrix refused Verloren's proposal. She realized then that there was nothing left for her to gain by staying around him, as he was now like a broken image of a person once dear to her. So one day, she said her goodbyes and left the castle to go live in the forest near her hometown, to be away from the rest of the world for as long as she could.

On the day of Sellatrix's departure, Verloren watched her leave in a gryphon carriage as the sun went down, hoping she would change her mind and turn back. But she never did. That night, as the moon rose into the sky, Verloren felt more lonely than ever before. In his quarters, he reflected upon all that had been happening, and all that was lost.

Verloren leaned against his desk, going over his thoughts, his claws sinking into the wooden surface. How could things have fallen apart so suddenly? This was not how it should have happened. The enemies he made, the bloodshed... none of it should have happened. But it did. And now he had to deal with what was left.

Sellatrix may have been the only friend he ever found, but he could not allow himself to lose his way because of her absence. She was just a person, and he had never needed anyone before. There was his research to be done and enemies to destroy.

But for that one night, despite how much he tried to deny it, Verloren felt an immense void creeping up where his heart should have been.

[rurpleplayssims]

When you're trying to complete your AC story but you're having too much fun playing Skyrim...

GUILTY! 🤣

In fact, I'm actually waiting for the latest release of Kaidan Immersive Features which has loads of new dialogue and NPC conversations. Naturally I already have the female character I'm going to play already thought out. I was doing a load of random screenshots whilst installing LOADS of texture replacement mods and caught this stunning pic.

[transbeamrooikat]

(wip) Party and Ghoul doodle that might turn in a scene in the comic I'm making but who knows

originally kinda made this for the cringetober prompt 'niche interest' but I liked the scene enough that I wanted to spend more than a day on it lmao

[slumbering-shadows]

I keep discovering all these awesome recipes that sound so cool and delicious but I am limited by a lack of cooking knowledge, a slim grocery budget and a stove that makes me ill and I think that's incredibly homophobic of the universe. Let me make chicken feta spinach burgers and potato salad. I am tired of microwaved food.

[fiona-fififi]

...

[danceandsing]

maybe I'm like physically ill considering how severe the pain is when the Tylenol wears off.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

hi Madeline! it’s me ready to annoy you with more javi THOTS

I know that man goes feral seeing you pregnant , especially when you start to show because everyone will know that HE made you that way and that you belong to HIM and it just makes him feel so primal and feral

Cassidy oh my GOD 😩😭 (y'all gotta stop doing this to me (pls actually don't), my baby fever is already so bad and this is not helping 💀) You are 100000% correct and now I can't get this out of my head and what was supposed to be a little drabble has decided to turn into a full blown thing WHOOPS

Insatiable

Summary: Javi thought he couldn't love you anymore than he already did- that was until the two of you found out you were expecting. Now that your baby bump is finally starting to show, Javi can't get enough of you.

Word Count: 3.7k

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Pregnant Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v (listen... she can't get pregnant if she's already pregnant soooooo), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, breeding kink (bc this man will keep you barefoot and pregnant as long as you let him), creampie, Javi is literally obsessed with you and is foaming at the mouth 24/7 watching you carry his baby, Javi is so excited to be a dad, Javi loving his cute lil family so much it makes me wanna vomit

A/N: Me: Damn, I need to write about something other than babies and breeding kinks. Also me: .... No. Don't mind me while I run laps in frantic circles and howl at the moon thinking about this because good lord, you know this man's breeding kink is an unstoppable force of nature

"What are you looking at?"

"Nothing."

"Well that look on your face definitely doesn't say nothing, Jav."

You couldn't help but giggle at the way Javi's eyes had been glued to you from the moment he had entered the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest and hip resting against the counter, admiring you like some sort of breathtaking piece of art as you worked on finishing up dinner.

Because truth be told, to him, that's what you were. Javi had no problem making it very clear to you that he was convinced you were the most beautiful woman to ever walk the face of this earth- beauty not just in the way that you appeared, but a beauty that came deep within your soul that had changed him in a way he would have never thought possible. A beauty that had given him a life he swore he would never deserve- that someway, somehow, you had wanted to spend the rest of your life loving him.

Even after over a year together, a new house, and a ring on your finger, Javi found himself falling harder and harder for you with every passing day. He was honestly convinced it was physically impossible to love you any more than he already did.

That was until four months ago, when the two of you found out that your love would no longer be spread between just the two of you- In a few months from now, it was soon going to be the three of you.

After watching you grow and carry his baby the past four months, Javi learned that despite all odds, he could love you more that he already thought possible.

"Your face says 'I'm thinking very dirty thoughts about my wife' or 'I'm really focusing on trying to hold in a fart' and if the second one's the case, I don't think it's very fair you still get to look that hot while you fart". You smirked, raising an eyebrow at Javi, reaching next to him to grab the dish towel you had been using to wipe your hands before mirroring his stance against the countertop.

"Luckily for you, it's not number two." Javi huffed, rolling his eyes at you before his gaze traveled down to your stomach.

Over the past few days, you had finally reached the point where you were starting to look pregnant, and not just like you had eaten 7 Thanksgiving dinners (as you lovingly liked to coin it). Your bump was now beginning to protrude out of your tighter fitting shirts, excited to see your belly starting to grow, giving your hand a new place to rest on top of the subtle curve, making you grin every time you placed it there.

You had also discovered that not only was Javi just excited about your adorable bump, your husband was ecstatic about it. Your pregnancy was now no longer the hardest secret he'd ever had to keep for the first 12 weeks of your baby's life, it was now an opportunity boast about the fact that you were his beautiful, pregnant wife, and that you and that baby were his.

At this point, there probably wasn't a soul in Laredo that didn't know you were pregnant, because everywhere Javi went, it was a chance to let anyone and everyone know he was going to be a dad, and you were the one carrying his baby.

"Hey, I have to leave our meeting early today because my wife has an ultrasound today for our baby."

"I know peanut butter and pickles is a weird combination, but my wife is pregnant, and what the baby wants, the baby gets."

"Just wanted to get the truck checked out since my wife and I have the baby to drive around in a few months."

And while maybe it was overkill, he just couldn't help it. There was something about becoming a dad, seeing you pregnant, knowing that he was the other half of your baby growing inside you that drove him absolutely feral.

If that gold, diamond band wrapped around your finger wasn't enough to prove that you were his, the baby he had put in your now barley bulging belly sure as fuck was.

Javi reached out his hand, fingers splayed across your stomach with an undeniable smile spread across his face as you rested your palm over his grasp, the two of you staring down stomach.

"Watchya thinkin' about, Jav?" You teased, speaking on behalf of both you and baby Peña as Javi stared at both his and your hands covering your bump, silently admiring the simple moment you were sharing.

"Can you believe we fucking made this?" Javi laughed quietly to himself, still in shock every time he really thought about how he was going to be a father. "That we're actually gonna have a baby?"

"Actually, I can, considering we were both there, and it was very fun." You giggled, lacing your fingers between Javi's and bringing his hand up to your mouth to plant a soft kiss on it, "It's crazy, Javi. I can't believe we're actually gonna be parents."

"Yeah? Fun, huh?" Javi smirked, bringing his other arm to wrap around your waist, fingers beginning to dig into your hips as he pulled you closer.

"Out of all the things I enjoy doing with you, Javier Peña, making babies is very high on that list."

Biting down on your lip, you leaned further into Javi's touch, your bump barley getting in the way of being chest to chest as he craned his neck down, engulfing your mouth in an electric kiss that had you feeling like you were floating.

"Fuck- I'd make 100 babies with you, Hermosa." Javi groaned, feeling the growing bulge in his pants starting to press against your thigh in between kisses.

"100?! Jesus, Jav, are we planning on running a circus?" You laughed, Javi too wrapped up in the thought of you carrying another one of his babies to even process your joke.

"I don't fuckin' care. I'll give you as many babies as you wanna have. You're so fucking sexy being pregnant."

Without your lips ever parting, Javi swung you around so that your back was pressed against the counter, caging your body under his before letting his kisses travel down your neck and collarbone, across your chest and south towards your stomach, until he was dropping to his knees in front of you.

"Javi, I've spent the past three months eating nothing but Hot Cheetos and pickles and complaining about how I need to throw up every thirty seconds, last time I checked, that's about as far from sexy as you can get." You tried your best to muster out some sort of laughter, but with the way that Javi was kissing you, letting his hands roam up to the waistband of your shorts, slowly beginning to tug your bottoms off your hips until you were in nothing but your underwear, Javi was making it very difficult to play into your joke.

Not that you were complaining.

"Nuh uh," Javi hummed, gently tracing his fingers over your covered folds, arousal seeping from your core into the dampening cotton, "Do you know how fucking sexy it is seeing you carry our baby? Knowing that you let me get you pregnant? Grow our kid and give us a family? Baby, if that's not the fucking sexiest thing I've ever heard, then I don't know what the fuck is."

Rubbing and forth, the pads of Javi's fingers applied more pressure to your clit, making you let out a whimper as he finally tended to the throbbing ache that had been rapidly building between your legs. At this point, your underwear was clinging to the outline of your cunt, swollen and puffy with anticipation as your slick soaked the fabric.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me already, baby girl." Javi tutted, hooking his fingers around the waistband of your panties and shuffling them down your legs, revealing the shiny mess smeared between your thighs from your weeping hole.

Scooting himself closer, Javi hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, wrapping his arm around your thigh to hold it in place and keep you balanced. His fingers slid through your folds, parting them with a V of his fingers to softly kiss your clit, big brown eyes looking up at you, pooling with lust as he watched you writhe under his touch.

"F-fuck, Javi, oh my god." You whined, noticing the shift in how your changing body and hormones made you even more responsive to Javi's touch, your pussy already beginning to clench around nothing with the way your stomach was swirling with arousal. "Please, baby, fuck."

"Please, what, Hermosa?" Javi smirked, peppering more soft kisses to your sensitive nub, knowingly driving you wild.

"T-touch me, baby, please. Please, don't fucking tease me, I just- Fuck-"

Before you could finish your plea, Javi had his head buried between your thighs, lapping you up like a man lost in the desert, finally finding his oasis. Long, flat strokes of his tongue swiped against your clit, already working at an unforgiving pace, ready to make you fall apart for him over and over.

Your hand shot down, digging your fingers through the thick, brown locks of Javi's hair, trying to find any way to brace yourself as an all too familiar tingle began to build in your spine as your sensitive bundle of nerves throbbed against his tongue.

You were convinced there wasn't a man on the face of this earth who loved eating you out more than Javi, riding a serotonin high every time he settled his mouth between your parted legs, worshiping your pussy until it wept for him like a dam finally breaking its seal and flooding him with your slick.

As if you weren't close enough already, Javi slid two of his fingers into your entrance bumping up perfectly against the sweet spot inside you, curling just enough to send you moments away from spiraling.

Without faltering his pace, Javi's lips latched around your clit, sucking intensely while his fingers pulsed at the perfect rhythm, feeling your pussy flutter around him.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck!" You threw your head back, orgasm rushing through you forcing your cunt to clamp down around Javi's fingers, slick gushing around them. Javi's strong grip held your legs in place, trembling with pleasure as you came, letting you catch your breath as your chest heaved while you came down from your high.

Javi placed a soft kiss on your sensitive clit before tossing your legs off his shoulders to stand, hands cupping your jaw to lock your lips in a passionate kiss, the tangy taste of you still fresh on his tongue.

"Turn around, mi amor." Javi cooed, gently letting his hands down your body, running over the swell of your stomach until he reached your hips, guiding you to face the edge of the counter until your forearms were resting on the ledge, bare ass pressed against the bulge straining against the denim of his jeans.

You craned your neck over your shoulder to see Javi frantically working at his belt, metal quietly clanging until a swift tug had his pants and boxers pooled around his ankles. You let out an audible moan as you felt his tip swipe through your folds, collecting your arousal to coat his cock, stroking himself with the mix of your slick and his precum.

"Fuck, you're so perfect," Javi whispered, pressing a kiss onto your shoulder and trailing the pecks of his lips up your back and neck, "So fucking beautiful carrying our baby." One of your hands shot back, grabbing at Javi's waist to brace yourself as he pushed into your heat, shaft filling you up inch by inch until he had bottomed out, hips flushed with your ass.

The sweet stretch and sting of Javi's length had you reeling, your sensitivity from your last orgasm on top of the already increased sensitivity from new waves of hormones, jaw going slack at the sensation of his fullness, greedily pushing your ass back into him to take as much as you could.

"Move, baby, fuck- please," You whimpered, bracing yourself against the counter, grinding your bottom half into his hips to do anything to ease your ache, "Javi, fuck me baby, please, I- oh fuck-"

Before you could finish your plea, Javi was beginning to pound into you at an already punishing pace, punching into you g-spot in a way that made your eyes nearly roll in the back of your head.

"You want me to fuck you, Momma? I'll fuck you, hermosa. Whatever you want, baby, you know I'll give it to you." Javi smirked, fingers digging into the curve of where your hips meet the meat of your ass, thrusting into you with thick drags of his cock, intoxicated by the warmth and wetness of your velvety walls.

Releasing the grip of one of his hands, he wrapped it around your front, splayed as it slid down the curve of your belly to reach between your legs, rubbing firm circles into your clit.

You couldn't help but buck back into him, feeling your stomach swirl with arousal and anticipation of your impending orgasm beginning to build, the combination of the snap of Javi's hips and pressure against your sensitive nub making you feel like you were melting under his touch.

"Fuck, Javi- Fuck, oh my god. Fuck, you feel so good. Oh shit- don't stop, baby." You moaned, feeling your pussy starting to flutter around his cock as he continued to fuck into you, your borderline incoherent babbling only egging him on more as his thrusts became faster.

"I won't stop, pretty girl. I won't stop until I fuck you so full of me, you'll be dripping out of me for days. Fuck- I won't stop until give you as many fucking babies as you want." Javi grunted, gritting his teeth as he rammed into you, feeling the knot beginning to tighten in his own stomach at the thought alone of being able to get you pregnant again.

With his one hand still rubbing your clit, his other arm scooped around your front, pulling you from resting your weight on your forearms against the counter to have you stand up straight, your back flushed against his chest. With you pressed against him, Javi couldn't help but suck and nip at your pulse point, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he pulled you in closer, holding you steady while your body began to tremble on the brink collapse.

"I know you're close, baby. It's alright, mi amor, I've got you. Wanna feel you soak me. Cum all over my cock before I fill you up." Javi groaned, his words hot against your skin between kisses along your neck and shoulder blade, shifting his grasp to cup one of your swollen breasts in his palm, fingers gently toying with the hardened buds of your nipples.

The added sensation was all it took to send you over the edge, orgasm crashing through your body with an unforgiving wave of intensity, pleasure radiating through every inch of you as your cunt clamped down around Javi's cock, gushing with your arousal as you came.

Knowing you had reached your end, Javi began to chase his own high, his thrusts becoming sloppier and more erratic as your body melded with his, nearly going limp in his grasp from how good he had made you feel.

"That's my girl. Fuck, I can't wait to get you pregnant again, let everyone see how you're all mine carrying our baby. Gonna be such a good Mom, giving us a family, making me a dad. Oh fuck- I love you so much. So fucking much. Te am- ahhhhhh, fuck!"

Before he could finish his thought, Javi was spilling inside you, the hot ropes of his spend coating your walls, a low groan humming deep in his chest as he filled you with every last drop he had to give. Javi's body slumped into yours, his head resting on your shoulder as both of your chests rose and fell with heavy breaths, hearts racing in sync as you came down from your highs.

Carefully slipping his softening cock out of your heat, you could feel the mix of your spend smearing between your thighs and dripping down your legs as Javi grabbed your waist, turning you to face him so your mouths could meet in a still messy dance of tongues and teeth.

"Holy fuck..." You huffed, finally managing to get a word out through your breathlessness and giggles, looking up at Javi, blissed out grins stretched across both your faces.

"Holy fuck..." Javi parroted, the two of you happily giggling half naked in your kitchen, the both of you staring down at your stomach as Javi rested his hands to cradle your bump.

"This one's not even here yet, and you're already thinking about number two?" You snickered, raising an eyebrow at your husband, gently tracing circles with his thumb around your stomach.

"Huh?"

"Don't think I didn't hear what you said. Let's get this one first, then we can think about another one." You teased, giving Javi a little nudge as his cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment, sheepishly darting his eyes towards the ground.

"Sorry, I- I just, God, something about you being pregnant- drives me fucking crazy. I love both of you so fucking much, I swear." Javi sighed, soft smile spread between his cheeks, eyes glancing back and forth between your bump and equally happy grin stretched across your face.

"We love you too, Javi." Pressing up on your toes, you planted a soft kiss on Javi's cheek, draping your hand across his, resting happily on your stomach. "Listen, if you want baby number two, you gotta help me finish cookin' baby number one. And baby number one is hungry. Do we have anymore sour-"

"Sour gummy worms? I picked some more up on the way home from work yesterday."

"Oh thank God, I was about to go drive to the store pantsless to get some if we didn't. Fuck, I wonder if we still have-"

"Watermelon? Got that and green grapes too, just in case." Javi chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss into your messy hair.

"God, I love you." You beamed, making your way towards the pantry, "You keep this up and we're makin' baby number two on an expedited timeline there, Jav."

"Sour gummy worms and watermelon is all it's gonna take?"

"Like I really needed that much convincing anyways? I told you earlier, making babies with you is one of my favorite things to do. Sour gummy worms and watermelon is just a nice bonus."

Taglist:

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @purpleprincess75 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

@purpleprincess75

[fr0stf4ll]

A court of Shadows and Moonlight - Part 11

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; In the wake of looming war and changing traditions, a gifted healer returns to the Night Court after centuries of wandering the continents. Tasked with stepping into Madja’s legendary role, she must guide reluctant healers, soothe wounded warriors, and face the entrenched prejudice of Illyrian leaders. But as she mends torn wings and broken spirits, an unexpected bond awakens between her and the Night Court’s enigmatic Spymaster. With rivalries simmering and a dangerous threat looming on the horizon, she must reconcile duty and desire, learning that true healing can extend beyond flesh and bone—if she dares to embrace the light hidden among the shadows.

word count ; 6.7k

Trigger warning; mention of clipping, violence, blood

notes; Hey hey hey, back with this hmm hmm special chapter, surprisingly (or not hehe) I truly enjoyed writing thing one (I'm sorry y/n). Well I'm not going to spoil anything but I hope that you will enjoy that one. Also I had a question because I'm already writing the following chapters, would you rather have a long chapter or two different (with one posted one day and the other the day after) ? Well you guys tell me because i'm struggling a bit haha. See you soon, love you ! (I love soooooo much your comments btw <33333)

previous ✧ next

The last day at the palace was filled with bittersweet goodbyes and heartfelt promises. Each healer expressed their gratitude, their voices tinged with emotion as they pledged to stay in touch and continue the work you had all started. Veras, the healer from the Winter Court, clasped your hand firmly, his icy-blue eyes glinting with determination. “Keep pushing forward, Y/N. You always manage to lead us to the right path.”

Even Rordan, the reserved healer from the Autumn Court, offered a rare smile. “We’ll hold up our end of the agreement. Stay safe.”

Amara pulled you into a quick hug, her hazel eyes soft with concern. “Don’t let the weight of it all crush you, Y/N. You’ve got this.”

Lila from the Spring Court, ever vibrant, waved energetically. “Don’t stay away so long this time, alright?”

Lastly, Telyan gave you a steady nod. “The Dawn Court is always open to you. Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything.”

The warmth of their words stayed with you as you made your way back to your room to gather your belongings. The setting sun painted the city in hues of gold and orange, casting long shadows across the polished floors. As you finished packing, you paused by the window, drawn to the breathtaking view of Solterra one last time. The bustling city was beginning to quiet, the glow of its lights preparing to welcome the night.

A soft knock on the door startled you, and Azriel stepped inside, his presence commanding yet quiet. His gaze flickered to you and then to the window, where dark clouds were rolling over the distant horizon. “It looks like the Peregrins’ warning was accurate,” he murmured, his voice low. “The winds will be rough on the usual route.”

You nodded, your eyes lingering on the storm clouds. “It’s going to be a detour by the sea, then. Let’s hope it’s calmer there.”

Azriel joined you by the window, both of you staring at the ominous clouds in silence. The moment felt heavy, but not unpleasant. The bond hummed faintly in the background, but you pushed it aside, focusing instead on the task at hand.

“Ready to go?” Azriel finally asked.

“Almost,” you said, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Let’s head to the entrance.”

The two of you made your way through the palace’s grand corridors to the main entrance, where Thesan was waiting. His warm smile greeted you, and he stepped forward to clasp your hand. “Safe travels, Y/N. I trust you’ll keep us updated.”

“Of course,” you said with a smile. “Thank you for everything, Thesan.”

His gaze flickered to Azriel, and he extended his hand to him as well. “Safe travels to you too, Shadowsinger. And thank you for watching over her.”

Azriel nodded, his expression polite but distant. “It’s my duty.”

With that, the two of you stepped outside, the crisp evening air brushing against your skin. The city stretched out before you, the pale light of the moon casting an ethereal glow over its winding streets and gleaming spires. Azriel turned to you, his gaze steady. “Ready?”

You nodded, though the prospect of being carried by him again made your stomach flutter with nerves. “Ready.”

He scooped you up with practiced ease, his strong arms securing you against his chest. The bond hummed faintly, a quiet reminder of the connection neither of you spoke of. You tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the sensation of the wind rushing past as Azriel launched into the sky.

The flight was calm despite the warnings, the gentle light of the moon illuminating the path ahead. The vast expanse of the sea shimmered to your left, its waves glinting silver under the celestial glow. Night had fully fallen by the time you broke the silence.

“It’s beautiful out here,” you said softly, your voice carried effortlessly over the wind.

“It is,” Azriel agreed, his tone contemplative. “More than I expected.”

The two of you flew in silence for a while longer, his steady heartbeat under your ear a soothing rhythm. The bond hummed again, but you pushed the feeling aside, unwilling to let it complicate this moment.

When Azriel adjusted his grip slightly, you glanced up at him, catching the faint flicker of a smile on his face as he gazed out over the sea. It was a rare sight, one that made your own lips curve upward despite the tension that had lingered between you.

For now, the world below and the open sky above were enough.

The flight had been calm, serene even, with the moonlight casting its ethereal glow over the endless expanse of the sea below. But just as you were about to comment on how peaceful it was, the first crack of thunder echoed through the sky. The world seemed to shift.

A storm rolled in with a ferocity that took your breath away. The wind howled, whipping rain against your skin in icy sheets, and the sea below churned violently, its waves reaching toward the heavens in jagged crests.

“Azriel...” you began, your voice unsteady as you glanced at him. “Is this—”

And then, everything stopped.

Azriel’s wings, which had been beating powerfully just moments before, froze mid-stroke. The storm itself paused—a thunderclap suspended in the sky, waves frozen mid-crash. Time itself seemed to hold its breath, the silence deafening.

Your heart hammered in your chest as a bone-deep chill swept over you. A presence, ancient and suffocating, made the air feel impossibly heavy. You glanced over Azriel’s shoulder, and your breath caught.

There, in the distance, was a figure—no, a cloud, a mass of shadows and darkness so pure it seemed to absorb all light around it. It wasn’t just death—it was the embodiment of it. The aura it emitted was a promise of annihilation, and your very soul seemed to recoil in its presence.

You wanted to scream, to shake Azriel, to do anything to break whatever spell had gripped the world. But before you could act, you saw something else—arrows. They were suspended in midair, dozens of them, all aimed directly at you and Azriel.

Panic set in. You reached out to Azriel, shaking him desperately. “Azriel! Wake up! Please!” But he remained still, unresponsive, his wings unmoving as though he were a statue.

Your powers surged within you, raw and untamed. You didn’t know how to control them fully, but you didn’t care. A flash of light erupted from your hands, desperate and unrefined, and suddenly, the world roared back to life.

The arrows hurtled toward you with deadly precision, slicing through the air. You barely had time to think. Your hand darted to Azriel’s side, pulling one of his swords free. The blade felt foreign in your hand, but you didn’t hesitate.

You swung with all your might, deflecting the first arrow with a desperate clang that vibrated through your entire arm. The second arrow grazed your shoulder, pain searing as blood blossomed against your skin. The third arrow you managed to divert just inches from Azriel’s wing.

Azriel’s body jolted as time resumed, and his wings beat frantically, his shadows exploding outward in a frenzy. His head whipped around to you, confusion and alarm etched across his face as he took in your disheveled state and the arrows that clattered into the sea below.

“What the—” Azriel began, his instincts kicking in as his shadows swirled defensively around both of you. “What’s happening?”

Azriel’s voice snapped into focus as you both realized the barrage wasn’t over. “Hold on!” he shouted, his wings beating frantically to dodge the incoming arrows. “We need to go down, now!”

You didn’t hesitate, gripping his shoulder to balance yourself as he angled sharply downward, the wind howling past you both. But the next volley of arrows was relentless. Two found their mark, piercing Azriel’s shoulder and causing him to let out a guttural growl of pain. One scraped across your cheek, leaving a sharp sting, before another embedded itself in your shoulder, the force nearly knocking you loose.

The shock of the impact made your body jerk, and you gasped, clutching at Azriel as he faltered in the air. “Y/N!” he called, his voice strained with both pain and desperation, but his hold slipped as your strength gave out.

You fell.

The rush of air around you was deafening, the world spinning wildly as you plummeted. Pain bloomed in your back as three arrows found their mark, their sharp points slicing through muscle and bone. You screamed as your body twisted uncontrollably in freefall. Above, Azriel’s shout of panic was drowned out by the roar of the storm, and you saw him struggling to stabilize himself. An arrow tore through one of his wings, the force sending him spiraling after you.

The sea rushed up to meet you, and the impact stole every ounce of air from your lungs. You plunged deep into the icy water, your body screaming in protest as the salt stung your wounds. The weight of the arrows and the force of the fall left you disoriented, the dark depths pulling at you as you struggled to make sense of up and down.

Forcing your limbs to move, you clawed your way toward the surface, your chest burning with the need for air. You broke through with a gasp, the storm still raging above. Waves crashed violently around you, and the rain made it almost impossible to see.

“Azriel!” you called, your voice hoarse and barely audible over the tempest. A moment later, he surfaced a few feet away, his wings dragging heavily in the water. His face was pale, his expression both pained and frantic as he swam toward you.

“You—are you—” His words were broken by gasps for air, his golden eyes scanning you with a mixture of fear and determination. “Are you okay?”

“Don’t worry about me,” you managed, your voice trembling but resolute. “I’ll survive.” You gestured weakly toward his shoulder and the ragged tear in his wing. “But you—”

“Fucking faebane arrows,” Azriel spat, his tone laced with frustration as he glanced at his injuries. His shadows flickered weakly around him, their usual strength noticeably absent. “They’ve nullified everything. I can’t... I can’t fly.”

Before either of you could say more, a monstrous wave rose behind you, its crest curling ominously as it towered over your heads. “Azriel!” you screamed, the sound ripping from your throat as the wave crashed down with brutal force.

The impact was like being slammed by stone. Water closed over you, spinning you in its unforgiving depths. When you finally surfaced again, coughing and gasping, you were farther from Azriel than before.

“Y/N!” His voice carried over the storm, laced with urgency. He was swimming toward you, his strokes powerful despite his injuries.

You fought to stay afloat, the pain in your back making every movement a struggle. “Azriel!” you called, your voice weak but determined as you tried to close the distance between you.

The storm showed no mercy, the waves tossing you both like rag dolls. When you finally managed to get close enough, you saw the fear etched into Azriel’s face. It mirrored your own.

“We’re not getting out of this,” he said, his voice low and grim as the sea surged between you. “Not like this.”

“We will,” you said, though your voice lacked conviction. “We have to.”

But the storm’s ferocity didn’t waver, and the reality of your situation settled like a weight in your chest. With no magic, no wings, and no sign of land in sight, the vast, chaotic ocean seemed determined to claim you both.

The relentless assault of smaller waves battered you both, sapping what little strength you had left. Your muscles burned, and every gasp for air felt heavier than the last. Azriel was barely keeping himself afloat, his wings dragging in the water like dead weights. And then, beyond the churning sea, you saw it: a massive wave rising like a wall of destruction, its shadow swallowing everything in its path.

Azriel followed your gaze, and you saw it in his eyes—the change. It wasn’t just fear of the wave’s size or its inevitability. It was something deeper, rawer. A realization, perhaps, that this might be the end. That you might both die here, together. Or maybe it was something more—a dawning understanding of what you were to him. His mate.

But there was no time to dwell. You reached out, grabbing his hand as tightly as you could, your fingers trembling with exhaustion and urgency. “Azriel,” you said, your voice barely audible over the roar of the storm. “Look at me.”

His gaze snapped to yours, the golden glow of his eyes filled with turmoil. You pulled him closer, your hand clutching his with desperate strength as you pressed your foreheads together.

“Trust me,” you whispered, your breath mingling with his. His shadows flickered weakly around you, their touch almost hesitant, as if they, too, feared what was coming. You closed your eyes and began to recite, the ancient words of power tumbling from your lips like a prayer. The language was old, older than you could comprehend, its cadence resonating with something primal, something greater than yourself.

Azriel’s hand came up to cradle the back of your head, his touch hesitant but grounding, his thumb brushing lightly against your hair. His wings twitched weakly in the water, but he stayed focused on you, on your voice.

You began to speak, the ancient words spilling from your lips like a song, like a plea. The language was unfamiliar even to you—something buried deep within, rising now in your moment of need.

The words trembled with power, the sound resonating in the air around you, vibrating through your very bones. Azriel held you tighter, his hand now spanning the small of your back, pulling you closer against him as though to shield you from what was coming.

Azriel tried to keep his focus on you, his hands gripping your arms for stability. But the thunderous sound of the approaching wave was deafening, and the force of its presence was palpable, pressing against the air itself. He could feel it nearing, every second stretching unbearably long. His instincts screamed at him to turn, to face the incoming force, but you held him steady, anchoring him with your voice and your touch.

“Don’t look away,” you murmured, your words a promise as your free hand rested against his cheek, grounding him further. The wave loomed over you both now, its height so monstrous it seemed to touch the heavens. Azriel’s eyes darted toward the towering wall of water, and you saw his grip on you tighten—not in fear of the wave, but in fear of losing you.

His shadows curling weakly around both of you in an almost protective embrace. The wave loomed, impossibly large, and for a moment, you thought you’d failed. You could feel Azriel tense, his wings attempting to fold around you both even in their weakened state.

But then, just as the wave began its descent, the power surged through you. The words reached their crescendo, and the light of the moon flared, not as a shield, but as a portal.

A flash—a blinding, all-encompassing glow—and the icy embrace of the storm disappeared. The roar of the wave faded, replaced by silence and stillness. You and Azriel were gone, ripped from the sea’s grasp, leaving only moonlight in your wake.

The town house was warm and welcoming, a stark contrast to the chill of the winter night outside. The scent of roasted meat and spices wafted through the air, mingling with the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth. The Inner Circle was gathered around the dining table, their laughter and conversation filling the space with a sense of home.

Cassian leaned back in his chair, a half-empty glass of wine in his hand, his brow furrowed as he glanced at Rhysand. “So, when are they coming back?” he asked, his tone casual but with a hint of curiosity. “It’s been days now.”

Rhysand, seated at the head of the table with Feyre beside him, swirled his wine thoughtfully before taking a sip. “They should be on their way back to Prythian by now,” he replied, though his tone wasn’t as confident as his words.

Mor, who was perched on the edge of her chair, arched a golden brow. “Should be? What do you mean, should be?”

Rhys sighed, setting his glass down and rubbing a hand over his face. “I haven’t been able to reach Azriel,” he admitted. “His mental shields are still up, and I can’t get a clear sense of where they are.”

Feyre frowned, her fork hovering over her plate. “That’s... unusual for him.”

“It is,” Rhys agreed, his violet eyes flicking to Cassian. “But Azriel is nothing if not careful. They’re likely taking their time or dealing with unforeseen delays. The journey from the Dawn Court isn’t exactly quick.”

Cassian snorted, folding his arms across his broad chest. “Unforeseen delays, huh? I’d bet my wings they’ve found some trouble along the way. Knowing Az, he’s probably brooding about something, and Y/N is too busy trying to keep him in check.”

Mor chuckled softly, though her eyes reflected a glimmer of concern. “I wouldn’t be surprised. That male has a talent for finding trouble—or letting it find him.”

Amren, who had been silent up until now, set her glass down with a deliberate clink. “Trouble or not, Y/N is more than capable of handling herself. From what I’ve seen, she’s sharper than most. If anything, I’d wager Azriel is the one who’ll be struggling to keep up.”

Cassian grinned, raising his glass in a mock toast. “Here’s to that. Poor Az, stuck with someone who doesn’t let him get away with his usual brooding nonsense.”

Feyre couldn’t help but smile at the banter, though her fingers brushed against Rhysand’s under the table in silent reassurance. “Still,” she said softly, “I hope they’re okay. It’s been a while since we’ve heard anything.”

Rhys nodded, his gaze distant for a moment before he refocused on the group. “They’re both strong. If anyone can handle the unexpected, it’s Azriel and Y/N.”

Mor leaned forward, her chin resting on her hand. “I just hope they’re not killing each other,” she quipped. “Or, you know, that Az hasn’t scared her off with his silent brooding routine.”

Cassian barked a laugh, shaking his head. “If anyone could out-brood Azriel, it’s probably Y/N.”

The table erupted in laughter, though the undercurrent of concern remained. As the conversation shifted to lighter topics, Feyre caught Rhys’s eye, her own filled with a quiet question. Rhysand gave her a small, reassuring smile, though his thoughts lingered on Azriel and Y/N, his mind brushing against the night’s stars as he silently hoped for their safe return.

The lively warmth of the town house was shattered in an instant. Rhysand shot to his feet so abruptly that his chair clattered to the floor behind him. The easy conversation and laughter ceased as he raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Everything on the table vanished—a soundless flash of magic clearing plates, glasses, and food from sight.

In the same moment, a deafening crash echoed through the room. From above, two figures fell, slamming into the now-empty table and shattering it into pieces.

Y/N landed first, sprawled atop Azriel, both of them drenched to the bone, seawater pooling around them. Their chests heaved as they struggled for breath, their bodies trembling. Y/N pushed herself off Azriel weakly, staggering to her feet before abruptly doubling over to vomit a mix of seawater and blood onto the floor.

Azriel remained on the ground, gasping but visibly more stable than her. His wings were tense but intact, though blood seeped from arrows embedded in his shoulders and arms. He coughed, spitting water onto the floor as he tried to sit up.

Cassian surged forward, his voice a low growl of concern. “What the hell happened?”

Y/N, barely steady on her feet, turned her head, her voice raw and hoarse as she rasped, “Madja... Call Madja.”

Feyre moved immediately, her face pale but focused. Before she could leave, Y/N weakly caught her hand, murmuring a list of plants she needed. “Feyre... There’s no time. From the garden—fetch what I need to start the healing.”

Feyre nodded without hesitation and bolted out of the room.

Y/N stumbled toward Azriel, her trembling hands faintly glowing with healing magic. But before she could reach him, her knees buckled. Cassian was there in an instant, catching her just before she hit the ground.

“Y/N, stop!” Cassian growled, his voice filled with panic. “You’re worse off than he is.”

“Doesn’t... matter,” she rasped, trying to push him off and weakly reaching toward Azriel. “He needs—”

Cassian held her firmly, his face a mask of alarm. “You’re bleeding everywhere. You’re going to pass out.”

“I’m fine,” she hissed, though her head lolled to the side, her strength draining rapidly.

Azriel, sitting up now, looked over at her with wide, alarmed eyes. “Y/N,” he croaked, his voice breaking. “Stop. Just—stop.”

Mor knelt beside Azriel, carefully inspecting the arrows in his shoulders and arm, while Rhysand stood frozen for a heartbeat, his expression betraying the fear he usually masked so well.

Madja burst into the room moments later, her sharp eyes scanning the chaos. The instant she saw Y/N, her expression hardened. “Mother above,” she murmured, rushing to her.

“Start with him,” Y/N wheezed, gesturing weakly toward Azriel. “I’ll—”

“You’ll do nothing,” Madja snapped, kneeling beside her. Her hands moved deftly over Y/N, assessing her condition with a precision that belied her worry. “You’re barely conscious. Don’t even think about giving me orders.”

Azriel, still struggling to his feet, waved Mor away weakly. “I’m fine,” he insisted, his voice strained but steady. His golden eyes locked onto Y/N, and despite the blood trickling down his arm, his focus was entirely on her. “Take care of her.”

Madja glared at him briefly. “Sit. Down,” she commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Amid the chaos, Y/N’s defiant voice broke through. “Azriel... Is he—”

“I’m fine,” Azriel interrupted sharply, his voice firm. “You’re not.”

Madja growled under her breath, barking instructions to Rhysand to reinforce the room’s protective wards and to Feyre, who had just returned with an armful of plants. Cassian held Y/N steady as Madja worked to stabilize her, and Mor hovered close, ensuring that Azriel didn’t try to move too much.

The tension in the room was thick as they fought to manage the injuries and exhaustion. Every glance exchanged between the Inner Circle was filled with unspoken worry, their usual composure shaken.

“You both have a death wish,” Cassian muttered, though his grip on Y/N was firm and protective.

And as Madja’s magic flared to life, it became clear that survival was only the first step in a much longer battle.

Madja knelt beside you, her sharp gaze scanning the damage. Her hands hovered over the arrows lodged in your back, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Go see Azriel,” you rasped, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m fine.”

Madja’s head snapped up, her eyes blazing with irritation. “Shut up, Y/N. You’re losing too much blood, and if you weren’t in this state, I’d slap you for suggesting something so foolish.”

You coughed weakly, a humorless smile tugging at your lips. “Just... take the arrows out and put me under the stars. I’ll be fine.”

Madja’s eyes narrowed, her exasperation palpable. “If you die because of that nonsense, I swear I’ll bring you back just to kill you again.”

She began assessing the arrows embedded in your back, her movements precise but brisk. “Can I remove your top?” she asked, her voice softening slightly.

You nodded, the movement weak. “Go ahead.”

As Madja carefully eased the fabric away, the pain lanced through you, but it wasn’t what made you tense. The moment your back was fully exposed, you felt the atmosphere in the room shift. Even without seeing them, you knew Rhys, Feyre, and Cassian had seen the scars. The room seemed to hold its breath as their silence deepened.

Their reactions were palpable—Rhys’s grip on his magic tightened, the faint hum of power crackling in the air. Cassian let out a sharp exhale, his usual jovial demeanor replaced with something much darker. Feyre’s sharp intake of breath carried the weight of her empathy, her hand instinctively reaching for Rhys.

Madja worked quickly, her hands steady as she muttered incantations under her breath to stem the bleeding. You clenched your teeth, the pain threatening to pull you under, but you forced yourself to stay conscious just a moment longer.

“Tell them,” you murmured, your voice slurring slightly. “Tell them what happened.”

Madja’s gaze flickered to yours, her expression unreadable, but she nodded once, her attention returning to her task.

Azriel stood frozen nearby, his shadows writhing in agitation. His face was pale, his usually composed features betraying the turmoil within him. His golden eyes flicked between you and the others, but it was clear that his focus was on you.

When Madja pulled the last arrow free, your body shuddered, and the darkness pressing at the edges of your vision began to consume you.

Madja straightened, brushing a hand across her brow. “She needs to be somewhere she can rest and heal without interruption.” 

After hesitating for only a moment Azriel told her “Let me take her to my room. It’s the closest” 

"You will do no such thing Azriel let me take her” Cassian tried to stop him. 

“No, please, no” with confusion the general let him do so. 

His shadows curled around you protectively as he carefully lifted you into his arms. You barely stirred, your body limp against him, your breaths shallow but steady. The sight of you like this sent a pang through his chest, but he buried it, focusing on the task at hand.

As he carried you upstairs, his mind was a storm. The bond that had hummed quietly between you since Solterra now roared with clarity, overwhelming him. You were his mate—and he hadn’t seen it until now. And the sight of you, broken and bleeding, was almost more than he could bear.

When they reached his room, Madja followed close behind, already giving him instructions. “Lay her down gently, and I’ll finish tending to her wounds.”

Azriel placed you carefully on the bed, his movements slow and deliberate. As Madja worked, he lingered nearby, his golden eyes never leaving your face. The scars on your back, the fresh wounds, the exhaustion etched into your features—it was all too much. His shadows coiled around his shoulders, mirroring the storm within him.

When Madja finished stabilizing you, she turned to Azriel, her expression softening for the first time. “She’ll need time to recover, but she’s strong. She’ll pull through.”

Azriel nodded, his throat tightening. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

Madja patted his arm gently before gathering her supplies and leaving the room. 

After coming back in the living room of the townhouse, Azriel sat at the edge of the chair, his elbows resting on his knees, wings drooping with exhaustion. His soaked clothing clung to his frame, and blood still oozed from the punctures left by the arrows, though Madja worked quickly to close the wounds.

Rhysand stood near the fireplace, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, the tension radiating off him palpable. “What happened?” he asked, his voice low but sharp.

Azriel’s jaw clenched as he considered his words. “You should ask her,” he finally said, his voice gruff. “Everything was fine. The storm came out of nowhere, but it wasn’t the weather that was the problem.”

Rhys’s violet eyes darkened, his power flickering faintly around him. “Then what was?”

Azriel exhaled sharply, frustration evident. “We were flying. The storm was manageable until...” His golden eyes lifted to Rhys. “Until the arrows came. Y/N moved out of position suddenly—I didn’t understand why at first—but then she was deviating arrows midair. One clipped me, and the next thing I knew, we were falling into the sea.”

Cassian, who had been silently listening, stepped closer. “Arrows?” he repeated, his voice heavy with concern. “You’re saying someone attacked you in the middle of a storm?”

Azriel nodded, his shadows curling tightly around his shoulders. “The attack wasn’t random. Whoever it was... they knew we’d be there.”

Rhys’s face grew even grimmer. “Koshiev.” The name hung in the air like a curse. He glanced at Azriel, his expression unreadable. “Even if you were caught in the crossfire, this attack wasn’t for you, Azriel. It was for her.”

Azriel’s gaze sharpened, and his hands curled into fists. “Why would Koshiev target her? She’s not a warrior. She’s—”

“She’s more than you realize,” Madja interjected, not lifting her eyes from her work. She sealed the wound in Azriel’s shoulder with precise movements, her tone calm but carrying an edge of urgency. “Do you have any idea the influence she has? The help she’s provided?”

Cassian frowned, glancing between them. “We know she’s a gifted healer, but why would that put her in Koshiev’s sights?”

Madja straightened, her hands pausing over her tools. She glanced at Rhys and then back to Azriel. “Over the last century, many of the continent’s most deadly diseases have been stopped in their tracks because of her. She’s discovered cures where others saw none, saved lives on scales most can’t even imagine. To a being like Koshiev, who thrives on death, fear, and chaos, she’s a threat. A formidable one.”

Azriel’s shoulders stiffened, his mind racing. “But that doesn’t explain—”

“It’s not just what she does,” Madja interrupted, her voice softer now. “It’s what she is.”

Rhys’s brows furrowed, his focus narrowing on Madja. “What do you mean? What is she?”

Madja hesitated, her gaze flickering toward the staircase where you rested. “It’s... complicated,” she said carefully. “But suffice it to say, she’s not an ordinary healer. Her connection to the stars, the moon, to the light—it’s something ancient, something powerful. Something that beings like Koshiev despise and fear.”

Azriel sat back, his gaze fixed on Madja as if searching for answers in her words. His mind reeled with the implications, his thoughts a storm of emotions—fear, frustration, and something else he couldn’t quite name.

Rhysand’s expression darkened further, his hands tightening into fists. “If Koshiev sees her as a threat, then we’ll need to protect her. More than we already have.”

“She’s not going to make it easy,” Madja said with a wry smile. “That woman has a will stronger than steel. But for now, she needs rest. And so do you,” she added, fixing Azriel with a pointed look.

Azriel didn’t respond immediately. His thoughts lingered on you, on the weight of what Madja had said, and on the realization that the attack tonight had been meant for you. He rose from the chair, his wings drooping slightly but his stance firm. “She’ll be safe,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a steely determination.

Cassian clapped him on the back, his grip firm. “Damn right she will.”

But even as the conversation shifted, Azriel couldn’t shake the unease that settled deep in his chest—the knowledge that Koshiev’s shadow loomed closer than ever.

Cassian leaned back against the wall, his arms crossed tightly as he stared at the empty space where you had been carried upstairs. His voice broke the silence, low and heavy. “The scars on her back... are they what I think they are?”

Azriel’s jaw tightened, his golden eyes darkening as he glanced away. He didn’t need to hear the answer; he already knew. His shadows curled tighter around his shoulders, betraying the tension he felt.

Madja sighed, her hands stilling over her tools as she met Cassian’s gaze directly. “Yes. She was clipped.”

The weight of her words hung in the air, palpable and suffocating. Rhysand straightened, his violet eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and confusion. “Clipped?” he repeated, his tone sharp. “How? When?”

Madja leaned back in her chair, her expression weary. “It’s a long story, but if you’re asking how it’s possible... it happened when she was young. Very young.” She hesitated, her gaze softening. “I first met Y/N when she was six, maybe seven years old. Her parents had just died in the aftermath of the war. She was left alone, one of the many orphans wandering Prythian at the time.”

Cassian frowned, his grip on his arms tightening. “She’s from Velaris right?”

Madja nodded. “Yes, but it wasn’t a kind childhood. She ended up in one of the only orphanages we had here. I... I wanted to adopt her, but I couldn’t.”

Rhysand’s gaze narrowed, his tone gentler now. “Why not?”

Madja exhaled slowly, her hands clasping tightly in her lap. “Because I could barely take care of myself. The war had taken everything from us—our peace, our sleep, our stability. I couldn’t bring a child into that chaos, no matter how much I wanted to. But I could teach her.”

Azriel’s eyes snapped back to her, the flicker of surprise evident despite his stoic expression.

“I taught her to heal,” Madja continued, her voice softer now, tinged with something almost maternal. “She was brilliant at it. Gifted, really. Even as a child, she had this... this innate understanding of life, of how to mend it. Time passed, and she grew stronger. Wiser. By the time she was seventy-two, she was already a better healer than many twice her age.”

Cassian ran a hand through his hair, his expression conflicted. “So what happened?”

Madja’s expression darkened, her voice lowering. “She went to Illyria.”

The tension in the room spiked immediately. Azriel’s fists clenched at his sides, and Cassian and Rhysand exchanged wary glances.

“She wanted to visit her parents’ tomb,” Madja said. “To pay her respects. But... it didn’t go as planned. I don’t need to describe the scene to you. You’ve seen what happens to half-Illyrians or even regular Illyrian females who return to those camps.” Her voice broke slightly, but she pressed on. “They clipped her. Left her for dead in the snow.”

Rhysand’s power surged faintly, the lamps flickering as he struggled to contain his fury. “They clipped a healer?” His voice was deadly quiet, his rage barely restrained. “And left her to die?”

Madja nodded, her eyes shimmering with a mixture of sorrow and pride. “She did die.”

Cassian’s breath hitched, and even Azriel stiffened. “What?” Cassian whispered, his voice hoarse. “But—”

“But she came back,” Madja interrupted, her voice steady now. “The Mother brought her back. And with that gift, she was given powers unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Powers tied to the stars, the moon and the sun themselves.”

Azriel’s shadows stilled, his mind racing as he processed the revelation. Rhysand’s jaw tightened, his fury still simmering beneath the surface. “Why didn’t you tell us this before?” he demanded.

Madja’s gaze hardened. “Because it wasn’t my story to tell. And it still isn’t. But perhaps now you’ll understand why Koshiev might see her as a threat. She’s not just a healer. She’s a force of life itself, blessed by the mother and that terrifies beings like him.”

Silence fell over the room, the weight of Madja’s words sinking into each of them. Cassian broke it first, his voice quieter now. “And she’s carried all of this... alone?”

Madja’s eyes softened. “Not entirely alone. But yes, for the most part.”

Azriel sat back in his chair, his mind a whirlwind of emotions—anger at the injustice you had suffered, awe at the strength it must have taken to survive, and something deeper, something he wasn’t ready to confront.

Rhysand finally spoke, his voice resolute. “Then we protect her. Whatever it takes.”

Madja nodded, her expression resolute. “She’s not one to ask for help. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t need it.”

Azriel’s shadows curled around him protectively, his voice low but firm. “She’ll have it.”

The office was bathed in the dim glow of Velaris’s nightlights, the rhythmic scratch of Rhysand’s pen the only sound as he finished his missive to Thesan. Azriel sat in a chair across from him, his posture rigid but his mind clearly elsewhere. He had bathed and changed into clean clothes in a spare room at the townhouse, but the physical comfort did little to soothe the storm raging within him. His thoughts spun, caught between the weight of your injuries, the attack, and the seismic realization that you were his mate.

His mate.

The words felt heavy and unfamiliar, both a revelation and a burden. You. The healer who had worked tirelessly by his side. The one who had challenged him, comforted him, and stood unwavering even in the face of Koshiev’s deadly arrows.

Rhysand’s voice cut through the silence, quiet but heavy with guilt. “Azriel.”

Azriel lifted his gaze, his expression impassive. Rhys set his pen down, turning his full attention to his brother.

“I was wrong,” Rhysand admitted, his tone raw. “What I said to you before... it was cruel, thoughtless. You’re my brother, and you’ve stood by me through everything. You didn’t deserve that.”

Azriel inclined his head, acknowledging the apology but saying nothing. Rhysand studied him, his regret clear in his eyes. “I know words don’t undo the damage. And I’ll spend as long as it takes to mend what I’ve broken.”

“It’s fine,” Azriel said softly, though his voice lacked conviction. He gave a brief nod, more out of obligation than genuine acceptance. Both of them knew that wounds like these took time to heal, if they ever fully could.

A silence settled between them again, heavier this time. Finally, Azriel broke it, his voice quiet but firm. “She’s my mate.”

Rhysand froze for a beat, then slowly leaned back in his chair. A small, knowing smile tugged at his lips, though it was far from mocking. “I know.”

Azriel frowned, his shadows curling tighter around him. “You knew?” he asked, disbelief lacing his tone.

Rhysand’s smile softened. “It wasn’t hard to see, Az. The way she looks at you... it’s the same way I used to look at Feyre when she had no idea we were bonded. Y/N did an incredible job masking it, I’ll give her that. But I’ve been in her shoes. I know what it looks like.”

Azriel’s frown deepened, his mind racing. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Rhysand’s gaze turned serious, his voice calm but pointed. “Would it have mattered? Look at how you’ve been with Elain. Do you think Y/N would have told you when she saw you pining for someone else?”

Azriel’s heart clenched, the memory of all those moments with you suddenly taking on a new, painful clarity. Rhysand continued, his tone gentler now. “Why do you think it took me so long with Feyre? I wouldn’t have told her while she was still talking to me about how in love she thought she was with Tamlin. It would have been cruel.”

And then the full weight of it hit Azriel. He had asked you, his mate, for advice about Elain—another woman. You had listened, offered him wisdom, and concealed the pain of your bond so flawlessly that he had never suspected a thing.

A knot of guilt and self-loathing twisted in his chest. He had done a terrible thing.

Azriel leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his head dropping into his hands. His shadows swirled restlessly around him, mirroring the turmoil within. Rhysand watched him silently for a moment before speaking.

“You didn’t know,” Rhys said softly. “And she never wanted you to feel obligated. But you know now, Az. What you do with that knowledge... that’s up to you.”

Azriel lifted his head, his golden eyes filled with conflict. “I don’t deserve her,” he said quietly, more to himself than to Rhysand.

Rhysand’s gaze softened. “You might not feel like it now. But that’s not for you to decide, is it? It’s hers. Just... don’t wait too long to figure it out. Bonds don’t wait forever.”

Azriel nodded faintly, though the weight of the conversation pressed down on him. The image of you—wounded, determined, and selfless—lingered in his mind, a reminder of the strength and grace you had shown even when it must have cost you everything.

And now, he realized, it was his turn to figure out what came next.

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[spideyson-stuff]

Another one of my crack ideas of IronDad is Tony being OBSESSED with the idea of being a father, while Peter only sees him as a mentor

So things like this happen:

Tony: You still need a father for something, right?

Tony: Learn to ride a bike? swim? play baseball!? I don't know how to play baseball but- I can learn to teach you!

Peter: Mr. Stark, is there something you wanted to tell me?...

He acts exactly like a father should, he worries if he's eating right, he tells him to clean his room, teaches him how to behave at parties and takes him to places to go out with friends

He also has fatherly habits, making stupid jokes like "Hey Hunger, I'm a Dad!" shits

You know when you tell your dad that you liked some snack he bought for you and the next day he shows up with 30 packages of that snack?

Tony SOOOOOO do that!

One day the Avengers arrived home and the first thing they saw was Tony with 5 boxes of cherry soda talking to Peter like:

Tony: You said you liked that cherry soda?

Peter: YES, I LIKE IT, BUT THIS IS TOO MUCH MR. STARK!

Tony: I thought with your super metabolism this would be nothing?

Peter: THIS IS NOT THE POINT MR. STARK - wait, this is only sold at Starbucks freshly made, how did you buy this in cans!?

Tony: Oh yeah, uh, about that... I bought Starbucks, now it's StarkBucks 👍

Peter:... ANTHONY EDWARD STARK!!!!!!

*Just a few steps away*

Steve: It couldn't be more obvious

All other avengers: Yep

Rhode: And when I asked him to buy me ONE beer he said no...

[medusas-daughter]

In the case against Amber Heard, Depp's team went to great lengths to hide evidence against their client, they spent millions of dollars making sure it stays off the net, and his fans spent a shit ton of money afterwards to uncover that evidence in the greatest bamboozle I've ever seen in my short life. It would have been hilarious if it wasn't so tragic. They rode so hard for their childhood hero and paid so much money to get that hidden evidence uncovered only to find hospital records of every thing they said Amber Heard lied about. Meanwhile Amber Heard and her team barely had peanuts compared to the wealth of resources Depp had.

Baldoni's Team, which are the same people btw, aren't even doing that. Because they've learned that the people are frothing at the mouth waiting for the chance to rip a woman apart. They know that even with Blake's and her husband's billions of dollars, and Baldoni's far far lesser status than Depp, she's still just a woman. They don't even need to come up with a strategy or hide evidence or bribe judges. They just need one or two people to say "uhm that d list actor i saw on like one cw show and maybe heard about his podcast like once is like soooooo hot I'd also throw myself at him and then destroy my reputation my career my family my image and chances of future employment when he rejects me because I'm just a dumb blonde, an aging dumb blonde" and the Internet just runs with it. I am disgusted and so fucking disappointed.

The number of women who were told "that man isn't harassing you, you're projecting your little crush on him" or "he's not catcalling you he's giving you a compliment you're obviously fishing for and when he doesn't compliment you anymore you'll start crying because it will mean you're old and ugly" or "that man didn't rape you, you just regretted sleeping with him because it makes you a slut so you're crying rape to save face" is heartbreaking. I can say with certainty that every single one of us either knows one of these women or is one of these women.

And to all the pick mes going to war for Baldoni's ego while his team pops champagne for the easiest money they've ever made, you are either one of these women or you will be at some point in your life. Especially with the way the patriarchy is taking back control right now.

This is why I never liked dunking on girlbossism or imperfect feminists. Because the patriarchy used very valid criticisms to roll us all the way back to just hating women. Feminists were looking for a better way to do things. The rest were just hating on women.

"Blake Lively is the epitome of white feminism and girlboss feminism therefore I hate her and don't believe her when she's been abused" do you fucking hear yourself? Women don't owe you a perfect record of activism to be worthy of human decency.

Is Blake Lively a perfect self aware social justice warrior? No. Is she a victim who deserve justice? Yes.

Was Amber Heard the perfect victim who took every assault lying down then cried a single aesthetically pleasing tear before stoically forgiving her abuser and rapist and embracing him one last time because he's just a hurt man an she's the jezebel that pushed him to anger? No because she's fucking human and she did not deserve any of what was done to her during her marriage or after.

It is disgusting. And all the accounts tearing Blake Lively appart then complaining about Trump's presidency, I beg you to ask yourself why it has become so easy to discredit a woman. It's not a coincidence. It is sinister. And I am not exaggerating when I say it's an omen of a very dark future for women.

Celebrities have always been a microcosme of society. They're mirrors we project our beliefs on. And if the first thing people see when they look at the mountain of evidence against Baldoni is "an aging white woman trying to hide an emotional affair from her husband by ruining a poor hard working man's life" then the 1950s that the far right promised really are here.

[livelaughloveluffy]

hiiii first of all i love your fics/hc, they’re just simply too cute 😭 if it’s okay with you, can i request a fluffy one about cooking with sanji pls 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 (either fic or headcannon is fine, up to you!)

cooking together - black leg sanji

a/n: i literally love you so much, it means a lot that you enjoy my fics 😭😭😭 i love this request so much!! honestly, it can't stick with just a fic or headcannons so this is a little bit of both!!

nothing but fluff here 💗

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-he's soooooo excited to share his passion and love of cooking with you, his ocean-blue eyes sparkle as he explains to you the basics of preparing food, the eagerness in his body language as he prepares the kitchen to be optimized for your learning. not only does he get to do the thing he loves the most, he also gets to teach you and share the experience of preparing food with you.

-as a chef, taste-testing along the way is a must. however, when cooking with sanji, he takes this habitual necessary step of cooking and turns it into a romantic moment "how's this, mon amour?" he'll ask as he feds you a small scoop of whatever the two of you are preparing. "to your liking?" he'll always ask, before moving on with the next step.

-he refuses to let you help clean up 😭😭😭 you can beg and plead all you want, he absolutely insists to clean up alone. one day you get frustrated because he wont let you help, slipping your arms around his waist, appearing as if you're going for a hug, but instead your hand slowly and carefully reaches to the sprayer on the kitchen faucet. he will absolutely humor a small water fight in his kitchen if it's with you (and he'll clean up the water too😭) and he always lets you win.

-it's an absolute must for him to get to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around yours, to help you get the proper technique when kneading doughs or whipping meringue with you. his cheek pressed against yours as he looks over your shoulder, helping guide your hands as you two cook together.

-literally the best when it comes to your period cravings, day or night, if you so much as hint or ask for something, sanji makes it happen no question asked.

•♡•

getting to date black leg sanji was amazing for a number of reasons.. but one of the hidden benefits of being with this love-sick cook was that he was... well, he's a cook. and a damn fantastic one at that.

midnight snacks are truly on a different level when with black leg sanji. the two of you were cuddled up in his bed in the shared boys dorm, your head on his chest, his arms wrapped around your body, and the sounds of his soft murmurs of affection. "sanji... are you awake?" you whisper, trying to not make too much noise, lest you want to wake a certain captain with a bottomless pit of a stomach.

he quietly hums in response, letting you know he's up. whispering as softly as you possibly can, "i'm kind of craving some of your special caramel toffee ice cream... can we go make some?"

before you can even process what is happening, you are already in sanji's arms as he gently picks you up and carries you to the kitchen.

•♡•

not wanting to jolt you out of your relaxation, sanji instead lit some candles around the kitchen, gently placing you down on the bar stool as he went to grab everything he needed to make your dream come true.

with sleep heavy eyes, you watched him quietly and quickly work to prepare your ice cream from across the table, but once he was over the stove gently melting and stirring together the ingredients, so close to being ready to chill the ice cream, did you wander over to him.

now that you knew for sure that would wouldn't be in his way, you wrap your arms around his waist, pulling yourself flush against his back "thank you for doing this" you quietly murmur into him.

"of course, anything for you mon amour. it will have to chill for a little bit, can i make you a cup of tea to hold you over?"

•♡•

the two of you sat cuddled up at the table as the ice cream chilled, occasionally placing soft kisses on each other's cheeks, just enjoying each other's company. the ice cream was done surprisingly fast (you'd have to thank franky for his extreme blast chiller later).

the two of you decided to share the bowl, it was a bit too rich to eat a whole bowl by yourself, sanji had insisted on feeding you, always giving you the bigger spoonful, the first and last bites, and most importantly allowing your hands to stay warm and clean.

"was it everything you hoped for, mon amour?" he asked as you finished the final bit. the soft gasp and small moan of joy left your mouth, as you whispered "it's even better than i remembered it."

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a/n: two sanji fics in the same day?! yeah, im actually not surprised 😭😭😭 @chibinasuu thank you so much for your support and request!!! hopefully, i did it some justice!!

a/n: enjoyed this fic? here's my masterlist!!

[charmikarma]

sometimes i remember karkat isn't the most popular homestuck character and i'm like. how???????? he is the littlest fucking guy. he's so funny and he has the most charming character arc. guy who seems like a total ass who is literally always angry eventually turns into guy who cares soooooo much. probably too much. guy who has all the romantic theory and none of the praxis. guy who wants to be so important and in charge but then realizes being that kind of sucks. he's kind of like me in that way. guy who literally cannot express himself normally because he'd get killed instantly. guy who needs to learn that his friends care about him no matter who or what he is. guy who deserves to trust someone for once in his life. man i love karkat. what a little dude.