#melanie replies

[brilliantfantasticgeronimo]

Mel likely dying in the memory TARDIS using sleeping on Seven's jumper and Fifteen and Ruby didn't even noticed askdkdf RTD I want my heart back DAMN YOU

she was clutching to the memories.. ... [cries from meaningful wordplay]

[anysin]

11 with eliasmelanie or daisymelanie. dark stuff is encouraged!!

ps: please make it so that Melanie is trans(female) but still the bottom/sub. thank youuu

Filled at AO3!

[raving-raven-writing]

If you could only watch one episode of Snowpiercer ever again, which one would you choose? ❄️🚂

That is a really difficult question to answer...I haven't watched the show in awhile so I can't remember all the content episode by episode, but there are moments throughout the show that I would watch over and over again. So, I guess this list of moments answers your question indirectly. -Like Melanie and the rats and her hallucinations of Layton -LJ and Oz scenes, but also LJ's "final" scene--still can't help but laugh over it ngl -The scene where Layton is with LJ, more or less confronting her about the murders and she starts playing the record "Goodbye to the Summer" -That "showdown" if you want to call it that, between Layton and Pike -Ruth and her rat, and her just being the leader of the resistance on the train while everyone is freezing -Javi--in general, all of his scenes because I love his character. Even the dog attack scene, although it is hard to watch -Roche trying to take out Wilford and then later seeing Roche in a padded room (Idk why, I got a thing about padded rooms) -The first meeting/connection of the trains---it is so weird but also tense with anticipation -Miss Audrey's singing performances and her outfits; she's not a favorite character of mine, but I enjoyed seeing that -Bess Till--initially, I didn't like it her, but the character arc from season 1 through 3 is pretty good, I like the direction it goes. -I am sure there is more I could list, but if I MUST pick an episode, maybe season 2, episode 1. At the moment anyhow. That could possibly change--I'll need to refresh my memory on it. But the end of that episode.

[whydoistilllikethehost]

I just reread The Host and I found your blog! I have no one else to spill to, so I’m going to go on a rant in your inbox lol. Ignore if it’s too much!

I too have a few points of contention with the book. I dislike how nothing is ever addressed, like the dissonance between the Souls being horrified that the living flowers on the Fire World had human-like sentience and then the simultaneous justification of erasing humans when inhabiting their bodies. (No offense to the rebels, but I think Melanie and Lacey were outliers, and it wasn’t because they were particularly strong or stubborn. I think they got lucky and if their Souls had remained with them for longer, they too would have been erased. Also would have added some urgency to separating Melanie and Wanderer IMO.) Whether they’re being erased or eaten, two sentient things are disappearing, so why is one murder and the other isn’t?

What makes Seekers so different? Why was The Seeker able to kill Wes when Wanderer was unable to ‘kill’ Kyle by leaving him behind? I wonder what the difference in compassion was, whether The Seeker’s experience during the occupation made a difference.

I also think it’s so weird that Wanderer was a virgin? Like she’s thousands of years old and I totally get that she’d never fallen in love, but I think it’s wild that it’s implied that Jared and Ian have had sex because they’re grown men but Wanderer hasn’t because she’s Delicate Fragile Woman? Ah, gender roles.

I wish we’d gotten more of Ian’s POV because I want to know how he fell for Wanderer and not Melanie’s body specifically. I believe he did, but I also believed that Edward genuinely fell for Bella, but in Midnight Sun it was revealed that he fell for her bc he could project a personality onto her silent mind. My main complaint is, if all souls are as kind and considerate as Wanderer is, then Ian could have feasibly fallen for any soul. What makes Wanderer special? I wish the book had covered this.

Obligatory more Shannon and Maggie, more of Doc and Shannon, and more of why Jeb is so okay with Jared dating Melanie other than an apocalypse.

I also wanted a bit more of Wanderer’s experiences as other beings. She told the humans in the caves about the planets and the life there, but very little about her own personal history. I fully believe she’s a bad bitch and the Rides the Beast story plus the entirety of The Host confirms this.

In terms of Kyle’s redemption, I really wanted him to examine why he was so kind to Sunny. Maybe it was because he’d gotten to know Wanderer, but I can’t help but feel like it was because she was in Jodi’s body. Some reflection would be nice, is all I’m saying. Like, what if Sunny had showed up to the caves instead of Wanderer? Would he have killed her?

I have more thoughts but these are all I can think of at the moment. Again, sorry if this is too much! I just got excited at seeing your blog.

Literally ALWAYS feel free to message me about the Host!! I love talking about it.

These are super valid imo. Maybe it’s just smeyer’s writing style but I do feel like she occasionally drops interesting lore/character hints that don’t get fleshed out (or, often, that are contradictory. See rant ahead.).

The one that’s the worst for me, personally, is that she establishes Wanda as this character who really values strength and resilience in the traditional sense. Like literally Wanda cares about being perceived as strong and being assertive and self-sustaining, as we see in the entire first half of the novel.

Then, at the end, she ends up with this super weak (underaged) body that is ultra teeny-tiny. This isn’t a problem in and of itself (other than the UNDERAGE thing). The biggest issue is that everyone around her then infantilizes her to an absurd degree, and somehow this doesn’t bother her??? Plus, it’s not written like her character developed, or anything like that, it’s approached like smeyer genuinely forgot a huge aspect of Wanda’s character?? Like smeyer I’ve said this once already but literally. READ. YOUR OWN. BOOK.

[dreamedfyre-a]

idk what you mean in your tags because you're always providing insight and having meaningful discussions via posts even if you'renot replying to your threads at the time. i learn so much and enjoy your thoughts and take on helaena! i love seeing your ramblings and they're always so well thought out and give glances of what is and what ifs when it comes to her.

and when you're not discussing helaena, i'm absolutely enamored with your writing!! you pour so much love into her and you cans ee how much care and consideration goes into her character, the world around her and what shapes her to be who she is. you write her so beautifully andseeing you on the dash is always such a treat. <3

@kingmaketh // tell me your honest opinion of my portrayal

crying 😭 the unprompted rambling never stops but it makes me genuinely so happy to hear someone actually enjoys it iausdhfiud i do love her lots and i'm glad that's obvious too 🥹 and hearing this from someone whose writing and characterization i admire so much means a lot 🥹❤️

[daddyslittledemon]

( so like, i've been thinking )

[candledburns]

“...What happened to you?”

With her arms folded across her chest, Melanie gives Neo a distinctly unimpressed look - though hidden behind that facade of disinterest is a hint of curiosity. It’s not like Melanie’s ever liked Neo, but she’s certainly not boring - especially considering what Melanie had heard, albeit second-hand...

“I thought you’d like, died, or whatever.”

@tricoloredillusion ( starter for neo! )

[yourlocalearthling]

HELP😭

I WAS WONDERING WHY PEOPLE WERE NOT REPLYING TO MY POSTS BUT TURNS OUT REPLYING IS NOT ON🗿🗿🗿🗿🗿

Someone pls help🥲

[princesscallyie]

I hope everything gets better for you Queen! 🥺🥺🥺

Yeah, I should be okay. I just can't control my anxiety lol

[brilliantfantasticgeronimo]

Re: Mel in Big Finish. They never really did any huge charscter arcs with her in BF. There are two audios (both written by the same writer) where she's the primary target of two different time votex type beings. But it never goes beyond those two stories (sad, as Mel being a temporal weirdness magnet fascinates me). The one thing that *does* irritate me about Mel returning to the TV series is that it's caused the Seven/Mel/Ace run BF had going to be stalled with as of yet no resolution...

ohh that sucks. seven/mel/ace from what little we saw is fun as heck (those two can certainly stand up to that ol' man lol). and, i see! so there's not much beyond vortex stuff. i was fearing something like i've heard sort of heard they did with peri lol more tragic and involved. but if it's just those two stories it's not a huuge contradiction, i think. (i wonder,,, does something happen to mel's family specifically in those audios or nah?)

[dreamep]

i can’t find the post but who knew the guy that wrote your sister was right and i’m in love with an egirl was an asshole

[thought--bubble]

I love jumpscare angst! 🤣🤣 thank you so so so much for reading! I'm so happy you enjoyed it 🥰🥰

The Tragedy of a Dragon

Canon Aemond X Wife Reader

Word Count: 1,545

For the 12 days of smuffmas (Prompts by @ewanmitchellcrumbs)

December 12th - candlelight and collaring

Smuffmas Masterlist

Canon Aemond Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Dividers & Banners by @arcielee

Warnings: Sad emo Aemond, Slightly dom Aemond, P in V smut, mentions of death, mentions of murder. short sweet and to the point

“Welcome back, love,” you say gently, lighting the last candle in your shared chambers. You had painstakingly laid candles all about the room to create an aura of softness and lightness. You knew your job: to be a sense of comfort, a sense of peace for your husband, a man who knew very little of comfort and even less of peace.

You breathe in the strong smell of sulfur and ash that emanates from your husband as he grunts his hello, landing with a loud thud on the edge of the bed and immediately reaching to remove his boots.

“Aemond,” you glide across the room, making sure your steps are light, nearly imperceptible. “Let me assist you.” You move closer and wait for his consent. You have learned through trial and error that Aemond will only accept help if he approves it; if you try to help him without his explicit permission, he is liable to burn you where you stand.

“I burnt an entire village to ash today, and still you surmise I cannot remove my own boots?” His tone is clipped and harsh, and his one eye glares at you, just waiting for a retort, something, anything he can use to set light to the kindling weighing so heavily upon his chest. Aemond is a dragon in more than name. He embodies that power, loyal, yet quick to cut you down if he's feeling weak or cornered. For the last few days, since his nephew was beheaded in his bed, a cruel act he feels entirely responsible for, he has been looking for a fight. With anyone, anywhere; not even you, his sweet wife, are safe from his wrath.

“No. I simply thought you might enjoy that I bear the weight of this one small burden.” You stand with your hands clasped in front of you. Do not react. No matter how much he lashes out at you, do not react. This mantra has been playing through your head for days. You maintain a gentle facade and an air of indifference, waiting for him to relent.

Aemond swallows audibly and finally waves you over. “Yes, yes, dear wife.” He lays back on the bed, looking up at the rich tapestry of the canopy above. “You are too kind when I am cruel.”

You kneel before him and dutifully remove his boots, slipping one off after the other. “Or you are too cruel when I am kind.” You lift your head and smirk gently, placing your hands on his thighs.

Aemond chuckles darkly. “That may be, for I am as cruel as they come… but alas, you know this… do you not?”

“I am afraid that I do not. I know a kind man, a man I call my lord husband.” You rise slowly from your knees. "Is there anything else, husband? Would you like me to have the servants run you a bath?”

“No, I would not,” he huffs, pulling his eyepatch off and tossing it onto the nearby end table.

“Hmmm…” You click your tongue as you watch him lay on the bed, clearly exhausted from the day's activities.

“Say what is on your mind, wife,” he breathes out, exasperated, rubbing slow circles over his temples.

“Burnt an entire village to the ground, you say?” You walk to a nearby chest and slowly run your fingers over the lid before pulling it open.

Aemond lifts his head and raises an eyebrow. “I do not require that tonight, wife.”

“Yet you tell me you burnt down an entire village!” You pull out the thick black leather collar, snapping the tough material with a quick tug. “That sounds an awful lot like a beast that needs taming to me.”

Aemond chuckles, his voice gravelly as you round the bed. “Does it now? Well, that could simply be a dragon's morning greeting. Nothing to get worked up about.”

You carefully lift your dress to straddle his lap. “Lift.” You hold the collar open before his throat.

He smiles to himself, eyes closed and humming slightly, ignoring your demand.

“Aemond Targaryen, I said LIFT!” You yank his head off the bed by his hair, and he gasps, a much wider smile gracing his strong features.

“Lykiri, my love, lykiri.” He holds his head, hovering above the mattress as you wrap the collar around the porcelain skin of his long, muscular neck.

“Good boy.” You push him back down with a light thump. “Now to get this disobedient dragon in order.”

“What makes you think this dragon would want to be tamed?” He brings his hands to your hips, pulling you tighter to him. “A dragon is never truly tamed, love… they simply allow you to ride them.” He grips your hips tightly, his fingers digging into the fabric of your dress, and rolls your hips against his. He closes his eyes and moans as his breathing grows heavy, his hips thrusting upwards against your heat.

“Now, now, now. Stop that.” You slip your hands under his shirt, slowly sliding the offending fabric higher and higher up his torso.

Aemond loses his patience and quickly rips the shirt over his head, tossing it behind him to fall over to the other side of the bed. As soon as the shirt is off, he pulls you down to him, his kisses frantic and needy. “Trust me, love,” he growls against your lips. “You can tell a dragon to stop, yet if they want to do something, they will do it.”

He rolls you over onto your back, causing you to squeak, hiking up your dress to your hips. His fingernails scratch at your skin as he makes quick work of your underclothes, pulling them down the length of your legs.

“And this… this, I want to do.” He dives into the crook of your neck like a beast seeking sustenance, one hand buried in your hair and holding your head in place while he ravages the soft skin between your shoulder and neck, his other hand moving hastily between your spread thighs, pulling and tugging at his breeches, trying to move just enough fabric for his manhood to escape the suffocating clothing item.

“It is you who must be taught a lesson, my dragon!” You reach up and gently tug at the leather collar around his throat, but you know it's no use. When Aemond wants something from you, he gets it.

“I have learned all I wish to learn,” he pants heavily as he finally frees himself, lifting one of your legs around his hip and lining himself up with your heated core.

“That cannot possibly be tr—oh!” Your words are cut off as he thrusts into you with no preamble. Not that you needed much of a warm-up.

“Oh, but it is, sweet wife.” He pants heavily as he bottoms out. With a loud, throaty groan, he sets the pace, his hips moving rhythmically against yours, the subtle creak of the bed growing louder with every thrust as his pace quickly increases. He holds your thigh tight to his hip, his fingernails digging into the soft flesh. “I have learned the world is cruel and cold everywhere,” he leans down, bringing his face to yours without slowing his pace. “Everywhere in this entire blasted kingdom but here, between your thighs.” He groans and throws his head back while licking his lips, mouth wide open, surrendering himself to the physical sensations. “Here is where I should be,” he lets go of your hair to instead grip your hip, holding you in place, his thrusts growing harder. “Pounding your cunt every waking moment. This is the only place that is warm and good.” His eyes open and stare down at you as he chuckles. “My sweet wife.” He roughly tugs down the top of your dress, allowing your breasts to spill free. “Yes, right here is where I should be.”

You try to come back with a retort, a funny quip, anything, but your mind is blank, and the only thing you can do is whimper, “Aemond.” You reach up and grab at his chest, his sharp abdominal muscles flexing with each movement. The tightness under your fingers pushes you closer to the edge of bliss.

“Oh, Aemond! Ah!” You squeeze your eyes shut tight, your back arching off the bed. Your body temporarily goes numb; the only place capable of registering feeling is the heat between your legs. Aemond quickly follows you over the edge, yelling things in High Valyrian. You don't know what he said, but it didn't matter. You were filled with him, the warm sensation giving you tingles.

When you fall limp against the bed, Aemond is quick to drop beside you, his chest heaving, struggling to refill his lungs with the oxygen he so desperately requires.

The two of you lay in silence until Aemond breaks it with four quiet words that break your heart.

“It was my fault.”

You roll onto your side and pull him into your arms by the collar still wrapped around his neck, stroking his hair. You feel the hot and heavy sensation of his turmoil drip onto your shoulder, and you rub his back in silence, eventually falling asleep to the sound of his heavy, shuddering breaths.

[whumptober]

Resources for Writing Sensitive Topics

As always, when writing about sensitive topics/injuries/illnesses, we encourage everyone to research and tag works appropriately. This is to ensure that the whump community can remain a safe space for everyone, as well as assist writers in creating well-informed works that avoid offending people and stereotyping, romanticising, or sensationalising hard topics.

We have also added some additional links that may be useful when creating characters.

Below are some links to resources we and others found useful - we'd like to thank the wonderful members of our community for helping us with finding great resources.

Blogs/Tumblr Posts:

@cripplecharacters - A whole blog dedicated to helping people write disabled characters.

^ A Guide to Writing Disabled Characters

@writingwithcolor - A whole blog dedicated to writing and resources centered on racial, ethnic and religious diversity.

^ Stereotypes and Tropes Navigation

@creatingblackcharacters - Creating Black Characters *with intent!

Resources for Writing Injuries (Tumblr Masterpost)

Resources for Writing Sketchy Topics (Tumblr Masterpost - please note that a couple of links are broken due to the post being 7 years old, but many are still working!)

A guide to designing, drawing or writing characters who use mobility aids (Tumblr post)

Writing A Blind or Visually Impaired Character (Tumblr Post)

Independent Websites

Avoiding Stereotypes in Fiction: Characters with Mental Health Issues (WritersHelpingWriters)

How Do I Depict a Disabled Character Respectfully? (Fay Onyx, Mythcreants blog)

Respectfully Depicting a Character Adapting to a Disability (Fay Onyx, Mythcreants blog)

Writing Deaf Characters (T. Frohock, author.)

How to Write Deaf or Hard of Hearing Characters (Melanie Ashford, Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers Association)

How to Write a Blind or Vision Impaired Character (AllWriteAlright)

If anyone has any additional sources, feel free to share them in the reblogs/replies!

POST CONTRIBUTERS - Thank you!

@psychologeek - Thank you for sharing some of the primary resources with us, it helped us a great deal :)

@tabletop-whump

[anysin]

41 with Daisy/Melanie, please? extreme dubcon/noncon with them in s3, Daisy fucking Melanie with her gun. or s4 Melanie nonconning Daisy with her own gun because she's pissed as fuck

or 1. with Jon/Melanie with omega Melanie in heat and a beta Jon (or beta-turned-alpha because spooky biz) who service tops for her

either way (or neither way) thanks for reading/considering

Here you go, posted at DW!

[harbinger-savior-catalyst]

im! about to freak out. im about to actually go insane

im about to go bonkers, quite possibly i dont think i am going to TALK about anything else other than this for the rest of the day.

HELLO?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?! WHEN DID YOU MAKE THIS WE SHARE THE SAME IDEAS..................

LOOK AT ALL OF MELS SUBTLE EXPRESSIONS FUCK....DUDE...

AGUH

this one...guys

this one isw good im about to lose mynfucfkmign mind........

Oh yeah this is a thing too, honestly forgot I made this

[pellucid-constellations]

Trial and Error (6)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Based on the request: "Azriel with single mom reader? I feel like being a single mom in ACOTAR would be tricky as hell… reader comes from autumn court and flees to night court because she got pregnant out of marriage? 😯 the shame"

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: Angst, brief mention of an abortion

a/n: guess what everyone here’s another chapter ahhh!!! Love you 🫶

Read part one | part two | part three | part four | part five (part five bonus) | part seven

Main Masterlist ♡

~~

Your breath left you, lungs emptying of every comfort until they felt tight and constrained. You might have made a sound—might have gaped as Azriel’s eyes darted across every square inch of your face to gauge a reaction. 

Mate. 

Had he said—

“What?” you finally choked out. 

Azriel shook his head with a pained furrow of his brow. “I didn’t want to tell you like this.” His hands steadied as they cradled your cheeks—stability in a time of utter confusion. “But I had to, y/n. You… I needed you to understand why I care so much. Why I want you to let me care. Why you…” 

His words trailed off. 

Something compelled you to reach up and wrap your fingers around his wrists. You stared into his eyes with nothing to offer him but the uncertainty and poorly disguised hope edging considerably closer to the surface. 

“Why I what, Azriel?” 

Azriel licked his lips before he spoke, mouth dry at the prospect of the conversation. “Why you can tell me. Everything. You can trust me with everything there is to know about you and Melanie. I wouldn’t—I would protect the both of you. Over anything.” 

You felt a piece of you deflate. Azriel’s fingers slightly spasmed against your skin as your shoulders slumped. 

“You can’t promise me that, Azriel,” you sullenly replied. “You work for the High Lord. You can’t promise me you would keep things from him for my benefit. I can’t trust that—” 

“Y/n, you are my mate,” Azriel emphasized, eyes wide and pleading. “I know you can’t feel it yet within you but it has been carved into my chest from the moment we locked eyes. The way the bond pulls each time I see you—the way it screams at me to keep you safe. I can’t…” 

His words broke off as he spoke them—cracked and fractured and desperate. 

Azriel cleared his throat and started over. 

“There are two things you should know. First, the High Lord and Lady—Rhysand and Feyre—they would never do anything to put you in danger.” You opened your mouth to argue, but Azriel gently spoke over the rebuttal. “They would never. They do not even know you but you are my mate. As an extension, you are their family. Whatever it is you are running from, they would go to lengths to run with you.” 

“You can’t promise—” 

“I can. And I am. Because the second thing you should know is that I have waited for my mate for centuries. I have dreamed of you and wanted you and I don’t know if that scares you but I hope it can be some consolation.” 

The kitchen lulled into a silence punctuated by your heaving breaths, the unsteady sound countering Azriel’s flickering wings as he stood before you. You had no words for him, nothing to rectify the worried way he captured your gaze with his own. 

Your instinct fought against everything he said. 

To put all of your trust into Azriel—all of it. To make him an integral part of Melanie’s life, of yours. 

Could you? Was being his mate enough? You didn’t feel the pull yet, the indescribable ache that caused the desperation on Azriel’s face. 

“—and,” Azriel’s voice was low but startling as his eyes shifted to land on the wall behind your head. “It’s not just the bond. It’s you. I care about you, y/n. I care about Mel. I can’t go back to acting so casual about that. I want to be all in with two of you. My life has… it’s changed. It’s different now, because of you.” 

He found your eyes again.

Something shifted in your chest, but it didn’t snap. 

You wanted him to be all in, but something still needed to be aligned. 

You had heard stories about mates in the past—about mates that had children before the bond had made itself known. The stories did not end well and they certainly did not match the pleading way Azriel held you or the hopeful pool of hazel that his eyes had dipped into. 

“What about Melanie?” you whispered, squeezing his wrist with your fingers because although he had included her in all of his pinings, you needed to hear him say it. 

Azriel adjusted his stance and blinked at you as if you were speaking another language. “What about Melanie, angel?” 

His soft-spoken endearment was like a punch to the gut. “W-Would you love her the same? Even though she isn’t yours? I’ve heard what can happen with—” 

“I don’t care about that—I’ve never cared. I can’t imagine looking at her and not loving her, y/n. She is so much of you.” 

A loaded breath left you as you leaned forward and rested your forehead on Azriel’s collar. You were still sick, still exhausted, and this overwhelming display of affection and devotion was filling you more than you thought you could handle. You released your hold on his wrists to bunch your fists into the front of his shirt. Azriel acted instantly, one hand coming to the back of your head while the other rested along your back. 

“I want to trust you,” you promised. “I do. It just might take time. I can’t—I don’t think I can tell you yet. I don’t know why, I just—” 

“I know, y/n. You don’t have to tell me. Just… just let me in. Let me be here.” 

~~

The rest of the day moved slowly. 

Azriel stayed. 

When Melanie woke up from her nap, a walk was introduced, Azriel proclaiming that the group had spent entirely too much time inside and fresh air was needed to fight the remaining sickness. That suggestion was met with a raised brow from Melanie who argued that sleep was supposed to be what made us better, Mr. Azriel. Why do you keep changing it?

You had watched the interaction with new eyes; the way she squinted up at him with a skeptical gaze and the way he stared down at her with a smile so wide it looked as if it hurt. Did he smile that broadly all the time? You hardly saw him in any public context, so it was difficult to know. 

You doubted he did. 

He smiled at you the same way when you teased him for Melanie’s benefit. 

The walk was soothing and beautiful and Azriel had wrapped two scarves around Melanie’s neck before he let her get out the door. She had huffed and pointed at his own neck, frustrated that he wasn’t wearing a scarf, but his shadows answered for him as they whisked around Melanie’s eyes and turned her around. 

As she giggled, Azriel shrugged a jacket over your shoulders. 

“It’s not that cold, you know,” you commented later as footsteps echoed along cobblestone. “I don’t know if she needed both scarves.” 

“Can’t be too careful. Wouldn’t want her to get more sick.” 

“We aren’t that kind of sick, Az.” 

“I know.” He tore his gaze from Melanie and directed it towards you. “But I can’t do anything about Autumn fever. I can, however, make sure the two of you don’t catch a cold.” 

You pressed your lips inwards and breathed through the fluttering in your chest as he looked upon you. His gaze was unabashedly admiring and you couldn’t remember if he’d looked at you like that before he’d told you you were mates, or if he had been holding himself back before. 

“I am from the Autumn Court,” you thought to say, if only to quell some of the strange feeling in your chest. “Although, you already knew that. Your healer kind of gave it away.” 

“You don’t have to—” 

“I want to,” you interrupted. You looked out towards Melanie as you skirted along the Sidra, your daughter kneeling by the shore to look in at the fish. “Maybe not all of it at once. But for now, I’m from the Autumn Court. I came to Velaris when I found out I was pregnant.” 

You shoved your hands into the pocket of the jacket Azriel had placed on your shoulders. You realized it wasn’t yours when your knuckles swam in the space. And the scent of night-kissed air delicately wafted up.

Azriel said nothing as you collected your thoughts. He simply watched Melanie giggle and dip her fingers in the water. 

“Um, I came under duress, obviously. The circumstances of my pregnancy weren’t exactly optimal and there were several people that would have been… more than upset that I was pregnant.” 

“What does that mean—upset?” 

“Several things. They could have taken Melanie from me, made me end the pregnancy when I didn’t want to, sent me into hiding for shame. I didn’t stick around to find out which horror-fueled thought would come to fruition.” 

“Is that who you’re running from?” 

You tilted your head to the side as a light breeze swept past your skin. Azriel was already looking at you with an intensity that felt out of place compared to the joyful laughs that flowed from the child by the water. But that was good, you reminded yourself, you were keeping her away from all of these harsh realities for as long as possible. 

“Yes.”

“Can I ask—”

“No.” You were quick to cut him off. Your tone wasn’t mean or harsh; it was exhausted. “You can't ask who or why—not yet. I haven’t actually said any of those names aloud since I left. That part might… take me a while.” 

“That’s okay,” Azriel softly reassured. He took a half step towards you, hesitated, but then fought against that and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, tugging you into his chest. “I just need to know what I’m up against. If you think they know where you are or if they’re still looking for you.” 

Melanie had begun throwing rocks into the Sidra, the sound of the stones plopping into the water mingling with silence and birds chirping. 

“I don’t think they know where I am,” you mumbled into his chest. It was so easy to stay there. “But I think they’re still looking. I don’t think they’ll stop.” 

You felt Azriel’s lips press against the crown of your head. His chin found a home there as you both shifted to watch Melanie. 

“Okay. Okay, that’s fine.” 

“Is it? You didn’t exactly sign up for this.” 

“I signed up for you. Whatever that entails.” 

A calm silence washed over the scene by the Sidra. Azriel brought his other arm around to hold you closer to his chest and you let him, seamlessly sinking into his hold. Melanie was none the wiser to the conversations behind her as she began dropping sticks and leaves into the water. 

Azriel kissed your hair once more. 

“It could be safer—“ Azriel began, words laced with reproach. “—if some of the Inner Circle were involved.” 

You wrenched yourself back as quickly as the words left his mouth. “No,” you shook your head vigorously. It made an ache bloom at the base of your neck. “No, no court involvement. You can’t tell them anything. You can’t, Azriel. I know you said it was safe but you don’t understand. This can’t have anything to do with High Lords or court politics or, or—” 

“Okay, okay—hey, I’m sorry. Come here.” 

The panic had taken hold of your bearings and inched close to your heart. You reached up to place a hand against the pressure there as Azriel tugged you back against his body and glanced toward Melanie to ensure she hadn’t picked up on your stress. 

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” he comforted, running his hand down your hair. “Nothing with the court, okay? I won’t tell any of them.” 

“Do you promise?” you all but whimpered. A tinge of embarrassment seeped under your skin at your actualized panic, but the fear took precedence and Azriel showed no repugnance at your reaction. 

For a brief, fleeting moment, you considered that a promise didn’t really mean anything at all—not before. 

But, from Azriel, it felt like something. 

“I promise.” 

A small voice then sounded, facilitating the natural end to the sharing you had offered. “All of the fishies are gone.” 

Azriel didn’t even attempt to move you away from his chest as he spoke, his words creating vibrations along your body. “That’s because you keep throwing things at them, Mel.” 

“I wasn’t throwing things at them. I was trying to offer those things to them.” 

You turned to speak to your daughter, Azriel’s arms unmoving around you. “Why were you offering things to the fish?” 

“Just in case they’re water gods. Ms. Fern tolds us about them in school. If you make them offerings then they protect you.” 

Your laugh was echoed by Azriel. The two of you shared a smile before you slowly unraveled yourself from him and beckoned your daughter forward. “Well, I’m sure they were very grateful for your offering. It was probably just their bedtime. Just like it’s almost yours.” 

Melanie made a face but didn’t argue, instead taking steps past you to stand at Azriel’s feet. “Mr. Azriel, is it my turn to cuddle? I don’t want to walk all the way home.” 

You watched Azriel’s mouth twist into a small smile that was obviously in place of a much larger one. He looked over Melanie’s head to send you a wordless question that you were quick to nod in response to. 

As if you would tell him no. 

Azriel reached down to haul your daughter up, settling her against his hip as if he’d done so a hundred times. Melanie rested her head on his chest almost as quickly as he’d grabbed for her, fiddling with a stick she still held in her grasp. You made to walk alongside them and calm your pattering heart, but certain people had other plans. 

“You too, mommy,” Melanie called, peaking the side of her face out from Azriel’s chest. 

“Me too?” 

“Uh huh. You come too. Mr. Azriel has two arms. And I can hold your hand.”

You sent a knowing glance up to Azriel, but he forwent the snickering and already had his arm open by the time you looked. “In,” he prompted with raised brows. “And you have a hand to hold.”