#most it's going to be a one off comment about no fae children having been born for some time

[mons-immortalium-if]

Hello!!! Would the child inherit the traits of the fae parent? both in magic and physical? Thank youuuuuu, <3

Physical, it would be a mix of the parents. Genetic roulette, if you will :)) In magic, they would get the base light/dark/wild aspect, but it does not have to be an exact replica of their fae parent's powers. And you can probably argue mostly anything could be categorized as light/dark based on intent and wild is chaotic by nature, so it's honestly endless possibilities :P Magic roulette as well✨ For example they could get light powers, but instead of illusions it could be used as an actual beam of deathly light. Or starlight out healing. Shadows used not as tentacles, but you could see through any shadows anywhere. Your imagination is the limit.

[chernabogs]

“kiss  me.  take  me  from  this  place.  ’” for the writing prompt with Lilia and reader 👀👀

I went a bit of a different approach with this where the prompt isn't written in, but is instead what this whole fic builds off of. I couldn't find an appropriate place to put the words based on the content, so I hope this is ok <3

HOOKED

Inc: Lilia, Baul mention, Reader (spoken second person here). Warnings: Heavy discussion of PTSD including a detailed PTSD-attack. Read at your discretion. WC: 2.5k Summary: Many of those who came from the era of Briar Nation before Briar Valley believe the silent suppression approach is both more mindful and correct in terms of etiquette. Lilia is not exempt from this, even when he knows it's a ridiculous belief.

There is a stigma against seeking help that Lilia would argue is the most ridiculous belief to have been ingrained in the older generation. Rather than communicating one’s thoughts and emotions to others, many of those who came from the era of Briar Nation before Briar Valley believe the silent suppression approach is both more mindful and correct in terms of etiquette.

Of course, he’s not exempt to this.

The difference between himself and the rest of his generation is that he’s the largest hypocrite to exist among them. He encourages his children and those nurtured by his hand to speak their thoughts and to be aware of how they feel in the moment. Meanwhile, he’s shoving every stressor he’s experienced into the nooks and crannies of his mind, where they sit and stare at him expectantly as he tries diligently not to look back.

Perhaps in time, he tells himself.

He wasn’t quite aware of the term ‘post-traumatic’ until he heard it spoken of on one of his trips abroad forty years back. By fate, be it cruel or kind, there was a conference occurring in the hotel he was staying at that he took upon himself to quickly visit. Uninvited and for free, of course, but that’s beside the point. At the time glamour still wasn’t as illegal as it is now, and so it didn’t take much concentration for him to conceal the pointed ears and sharp teeth he has to blend in with the crowd of well-dressed folks with degrees too long to remember. That day he played a clinical psychologist, a physician, a biologist, and someone in forensics all in the span of a few hours. It was an exercise in acting he quite enjoyed.

Back to the main focus, though: Post-traumatic, or PTSD, as it would come to be called.

It was new, it was fresh, and it made the pinpricks of discomfort crawl across his skin the more he listened to the psychologist whose name he didn’t recall describe it. Glasses—the man had large, coke-bottle glasses on his face, which kept glinting under the fluorescent glow of the lights while he spoke about the consequences of war on the mind. His hands would wave in the air with each sentence and his glasses kept glinting as the pinpricks grew to daggers until finally Lilia just got up and left the room. He went to the hotel bar, got smashed for the first time in god knows how long, and spent the rest of the night staring at the colourful glasses on the shelves until he was finally asked to leave.

Glasses had described it as presenting in several ways. Recurring dreams (he dreamt of it at least once a week, a dragon’s shriek, and then the sudden nothingness), avoidance of external reminders (he didn’t immediately go back to Wild Rose even when it became accessible), persistent negative beliefs about oneself (no comment), self-destructive behaviour (no comment), sleep disturbances (no comment). If he and Glasses had engaged in a one-on-one conversation for all of a minute he wagers the man would’ve tried to recruit him to be studied.

Glasses did miss the mark on a few things, though. Granted he was basing his work off of a human’s experience in war, not that of a fae like Lilia. Glasses had said that PTSD could make someone feel as though they were trapped in a prison that was their own mind—but prison felt like a very child-friendly way to describe it. To Lilia, it felt more like a fish on a hook. It pierces into his body and pulls at the flesh, ripping into his muscle and making sure it’s the only thing he can think of coherently. Sometimes he’s so numb that he hardly notices it’s there, until something triggers it, makes the string the hook is on yank upwards, and then he isn’t able to do anything because all he’s stuck on is that fucking hook.

Sometimes in the late evening when he finds himself sitting with Baul on the man’s porch there will be a sound—a twig snapping, a tree falling—that will make both of them tense and look around. Their eyes will meet, an unspoken look of understanding will be shared, and then it’s back into the next topic of conversation. Maybe if he told someone he was caught, if either of them told someone, they’d be able to wiggle that hook free. But that’s not mindful or correct in terms of etiquette, isn’t it?

Perhaps in time, he tells himself.

_________________________________________

It’s because the sky is blue.

It’s the simplest, most common thing in the entire world that never changes no matter what occurs. The sea changes colour, the leaves change colour, the earth changes colour, but the sky somehow consistently stays blue.

He’s been having a bad week, and he knows you can tell because he hasn’t been poking fun at you as often. He hasn’t felt like gaming, he hasn’t felt like socializing as much, and he’s been going for walks more than usual. His boys can tell as well—the close scrutiny Silver has had him under is almost endearing—but they also know better than to react too much.

You don’t. He likes you mainly because you know barely anything about him. You’re not as aware as his boys may be. You don’t know the Right General: the man who destroyed armies and fucked up on the biggest task he was given (in his mind, at least). You know Lilia: the vice Housewarden of Diasomnia who hangs upside down in hallways and plays screamo on a guitar.

He's also developed a bit of a soft spot for you.

Well. Perhaps more than a bit, but that’s semantics.

This is also why he doesn’t say no when you invite him to go into town with you for a few errands. It’s a simple task that he’s done with you many times before, but today it feels like a huge commitment he isn’t sure he should have done. This is because he can feel it tugging in his head—the gentle pull of a thread that’s done before whatever is on the hook is yanked up to the surface. He’s trying hard to ignore it, trying hard to focus on your voice as his hand taps his thigh and he keeps looking around the woodland path.

“—and so, Ace is paying for it, because he was the one that went and dumped the grape juice on it in the first place.” You look down at the red-stained garb in your arms as you frown. His gaze goes to it only for a moment before he hums and looks away again.

“How much of a fight was it to get him to agree to that?” He asks, pushing to keep the conversation going and to keep you talking so that he has something to focus his attention on. The trees around you feel both familiar and foreign in this moment. “If I recall correctly, our dear Ace is as good at negotiating as Azul when it comes to his own money.”

You give a laugh at that which allows a brief blanket of warmth to drape itself on his shoulders. “Combined with Deuce, we managed to get him to agree quickly enough. I don’t think dry cleaning costs that much though, so it isn’t like this is going to break his bank.”

“Ah, you would be surprised.” A smile touches on his lips which still doesn’t quite reach his eyes as you both continue walking. You direct the conversation to other matters going on around the school and he falls into an attentive silence, letting you talk away so he can focus on your voice.

It’s when you step out of the forest and into a meadow clearing, when his eyes inadvertently go upwards to look at the blue sky, that the world shuts off. The sky had been like this—clear and blue—right before it had all gone to shit. Sunny, slightly cooler, with the sounds of a thousand bodies moving and the heady scent of grease in the air. He can see the glinting of light (glinting like Glasses had been), he can feel the tension grow in his body, taste saliva and copper in his mouth. In a manner of a few seconds, he’s sucked up out of the forest around NRC and into a sub-level of his own personal hell where he’s now sitting and watching all of his mistakes play back.

He's fighting against that hook. He’s squirming, wiggling, and biting as it pulls him all around. The world is black. He’s sitting on a silver chair and there’s a television in front of him and it’s playing that day at Wild Rose as the sky becomes a thunderous grey. He wants to scream and change the channel, but the hook has pierced the back of his head and is jutting out of his mouth. He can’t speak, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but watch as the same shit happens again and again and—

“—Lilia?”

His head turns as much as the hook allows. He can taste the rust from it as it stays in his mouth, but his eyes go wide when he sees you in the corner. The hum of television static and his quick breathing are all the sounds he can hear as you stand there in those shadows. Something garbled leaves his lips. You move a few steps closer, close enough that the light of the television reflects on your features, which wear a mask of your own fear as you kneel by his side.

You shouldn’t be here. You weren’t there, not when it was all unfolding, so you shouldn’t be in the same basement of horrors he’s currently in.

Your hand rests on his arm. It’s as though a thousand needles erupt where your skin touches and he recoils in that chair, jerks to the side, and causes that hook to split more skin. You move back quickly, and he can see what he thinks might be panic on your face.

“What can I do?” You ask. It’s such a simple question and he wishes so deeply to tell you an answer but what can you do? What can he do? It isn’t mindful or correct in terms of etiquette, right? He shakes his head. Panic turns to a touch of worry, of frustration, as you move to sit cross-legged beside his chair.

“I... don’t know what’s going on.” You say slowly. He listens as he forces his breathing to regulate. The dim hum of static is still coming from the right side of him as he keeps looking down at you. “But I’m going to sit right here, okay? I’m going to sit right here until you can tell me what I can do to help. And if there’s nothing I can do, then at least I can keep you company until you’re ready.”

Ready? Company?

He keeps looking down at you until he finally turns his head back to the television where those scenes are still playing. Beyond the television, he can see the outline of trees forming in the dark room.

The two of you sit there for what feels like an extraordinarily long time. The hook has stopped tugging, and the trees are becoming more visible in the darkness as the show comes to an end. He can hear birds chirping past the static, he can smell woodland instead of grease. He isn’t tasting rust anymore. A small, strangled hum leaves him, which catches your attention.

“Yeah?” You ask, scooting forward on the floor beside him to look up at his face. You’re so goddamn endearing when you look up like that, and he hates that you’re in this room with him right now. He needs to leave because he needs to get you out of here as well. You barely know anything about him, and he isn’t ready to ruin the perceptions you have quite yet.

“Can I touch you?” You ask.

“Yes,” is what he manages to choke back beyond the hook.

You stand back up and your hand comes to rest on his cheek. He doesn’t feel daggers like he did before, but he does still tense, which makes you stop again. A heartbeat passes before you lean down so your lips are by his ear.

“Breathe,” you whisper, and he does.

“Focus,” you whisper, and he does.

“Come back,” you whisper, pressing your lips to his temple, and he does.

The television shuts off and is pulled back into the shadows by something he can’t quite see yet, but he feels he will come to meet very soon. The chair he sits on vanishes and is replaced by a rock with a bubbling creek at his feet. The hook unlatches itself and is reeled back up for another day. It’s like he’s waking up from a dream as a groggy feeling settles over him.  

Neither of you speak for a long moment as he continues to sit on the rock and your hand moves to rest on his back. A sense of embarrassment forms in his chest that he knows shouldn’t be there, but it exists anyway. Embarrassment, shame, and heavy, heavy exhaustion. His tongue licks his dry lips as he clears his throat to speak.

“How long?” He asks.

“It’s been an hour.”

An hour. That feels shorter than usual as he rolls his shoulders and gets to his feet. His hands are trembling slightly, and he appreciates you not mentioning it despite the way your gaze lingers on them.

He turns to you as he shoves them in his pockets, and he forces his lips into a smile. It’s a good thing he’s an expert at fake smiles to the point that he does this without a thought. “Do you mind if I...?”

“Not at all.” You reply quickly, grabbing your stained clothing from the ground. When you rise, you look worried. For a moment he fears that you may ask what just happened right now—but you don’t. You just offer him a slight smile back and hold your clothes a bit tighter. “Will you text me when you get back?”

“Yes,” he replies automatically, feeling a bud of relief blossom in his chest when you nod and step back onto the path. This is immediately replaced by guilt. “Thank you.”

The words feel dead and heavy on his tongue, despite the way they seem to soothe your own anxiety.

“Always.” You murmur in response as he watches your gaze linger on him a moment longer. He so wishes to ask you to stay, to explain to you what this all was, but he stills the words in his throat.

He likes you mainly because you know barely anything about him. You’re unaware of his past, much like his boys, and your perception of him is one he’s carefully gifted to you himself. The abruptness of this attack may have broken a crack in the pristine image which unsettles him.

He isn’t ready to discuss it yet. Not with you, not with his boys, not even Baul. He’s the largest hypocrite to exist for a good reason.

He continues to watch you until you vanish back into the forest, and it’s only with your departure that he finds himself able to breathe properly. The back of his skull aches and all he wants right now is to go to sleep for a few hours. His smile drops to a grimace as he turns and begins to go in the direction opposite of you.

Perhaps in time, he tells himself.

[f10werfae]

Baby, It’s Breaking News

Pairing:Husband!Chris Evans x Kardashian!Reader

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: After keeping their life for the most part quiet, Y/n and Chris agree to give a statement to the Hollywood press (Article Style with an interview)

Warnings: none really

- Requests are open!

Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

My Main masterlist: Welcome to the Fae Station✨

Chris Evans Masterlist: Library of Chris Evans 💫

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Hollywood Press: Y/N KARDASHIAN MAKES A STATEMENT

Y/n Kardashian-Evans, the first of the Kardashian siblings to change her surname, causing an earthquake to erupt within the hollywood life.

After getting wedded to her long term boyfriend Chris Evans, the couple didn’t wait long before bringing two new additions to the family. Lily and Noah Kardashian-Evans.

Y/n has always been known to keep out of the spotlight as much as possible, even during the filming of Keeping Up With The Kardashians, the youngest usually didn’t make many appearances.

After meeting at a mutual friend’s party, Chris said he simply could not keep his eyes off the Kardashian and just had to get to know her. Which then has led onto them dating for 3 years and now being married for 3.

One thing that has been out in the public is her passion for art, one that definitely wasn’t hidden by her mother Kris Jenner. Who revealed that her youngest daughter had been accepted into art school years ago, and was now working for a major publishing company as an illustrator for children's books.

Going back to 2019, Chris and Y/n's wedding was one you just had to be at to witness. Taking place on a lovely island off the coast of Greece, in a lovely town filled with historical monuments which symbolised their love for history and travel.

Adorning a lovely corset wedding dress, the famous Kardashian met her groom at the aisle, tears in both of their eyes as they exchanged vows and rings.

Their wedding ceremony however was quite unique, in that it took place at around 7pm allowing for the sun to set by the time they were wed.

Their reception was outdoors allowing the moon to shine down, the trees surrounding the venue were decorated with fairy lights or small fire torches, a very nature theme becoming apparent. The couple having a secret last dance was revealed as Y/n posted pictures of them embracing as they swayed to music, the sea and the moon shining behind them.

After that major event the couple went off the grid per say, with Y/n only revealing new books she had illustrated or Chris revealing his new projects he would be taking on.

The next thing we knew was that Y/n Kardashian Evans had relocated permanently to Chris' home state, now owning a large enough countryside house in Boston. She is the first to leave the comfort of having her family close by, although she says it was, “For the Best”

Keeping a low profile in Boston, the couple seemed to be basking in their newlywed stage, with photos being posted from their honeymoon in the alps in Switzerland, a classy choice.

Both wearing ski attire, the couple announced they would be expecting in early 2020, not giving much information as to how far along Y/n was .

That photo alone amassed over 30 million likes, capturing the hearts and eyes of people around the globe wit the caption: “New developments in progress 🍼” Holding a pair of baby skis between them

Surely enough in March of 2020, Chris Evans had posted on instagram the photo of Y/n holding two bundles of joy as she lay in her hospital bed, a beautiful yet tired smile on her face, with the caption: “My beautiful wife and kids♥️” The world going into shock at the sight of the twins.

Many of the Kardashian and Evans family rushed to announce their support under the post, with the likes of Scott Evans and Kim Kardashian reposting it onto their story, welcoming the new arrivals.

Their names were then revealed two weeks later to be, Lily and Noah, names the couple apparently had been set on since they found out about the twins.

Unfortunately for us, the lives of the family would once again go off the grid as the world went into lockdown because of the Coronavirus.

With minimal updates, and the only source of press coming from rare stories off Chris Evans' Instagram of the children walking with his wife or them at their pool, the life of the Kardashian-Evans still remains for the most part a mystery.

However, now with life returning back to normal slowly, there have been pictures of the couple bringing their children to the beach or even to LA where we saw Kris Jenner post about looking after her grandbabies.

Leading us to then know that Chris and Y/n had taken a well deserved break to go to Peru, a unique yet amazing choice as they went to see the likes of Machu Picchu.

Now in August of 2022, we had the pleasure of interviewing the couple off camera as they came to our studio, with the well awaited questions I’m sure you all had.

Here Is The Transcript! :

Interviewer: So Y/n and Chris it’s absolutely amazing to see you both here, I must say you both look great!

Y/n: Thank you so much! It feels weird to be in a studio again

Chris: I’m glad to finally address some questions now that we’re finally settled back into normal life

Interviewer: So first off, how are your children doing. Has covid affected them at all? And how was life with two young children at home 24/7

Y/n: Honey do you wanna answer this one?

Chris: Of course, life was definitely chaotic to say the least. Learning how to act as parents to not one but two, all whilst a pandemic was going on was difficult. Overall their development hasn’t been affected as they still don’t attend school anyway, although when they finally became aware of the world around them it was hard to explain the idea of a virus and why we had to be so careful

Interviewer: Now, is there any plans of any new additions any time soon?

Y/n: Uhh we’ll see, it’s not off the table for now

Chris: Just wait i’ll have another Evans for ya within a year

Y/n: Oh stop it babe!

Interviewer: Have they had the chance to meet the family back in LA?

Y/n: Oh yes, my mom actually came to Boston to be in the delivery room with Chris and I. Then for my sisters, they had flown over when restrictions were loosened to stay for a while for a visit.

Interviewer: Do your children know what you do for work? Or are you still just their mom and dad to them?

Chris: Well they know that I fought monsters for a living? They still can’t grasp the idea of acting as a job so we settled on that. As for Y/n most of the books we got them as babies were books she had illustrated, so that was easy enough.

Interviewer: Chris do you plan on returning to new projects anytime soon?

Chris: For now i’m enjoying being a family man and basking in the domestic lifestyle, spending time with my beautiful wife and kids, being there for the their firsts. So for now i’m focusing on the likes of ASP, where I can work from home

Interviewer: Any funny stories? I know I have a few from when my children were born

Y/n: Omg I have to say this one! When I would be sleeping, obviously the babies would wake up crying in the middle of the night wanting to be breast fed. Well one night I was feeding Noah after Lily was already done, so Chris was sitting beside me on another rocking chair doing some skin to skin contact with Lily in his arms. Lily then starts suckling on Chris' nipple, and it was the funniest thing i’ve ever seen. Just seeing Chris try to pry a clearly sleepy baby off his chest

Interviewer: Well that’s definitely new!

Chris: Yeah it was something i’ll never forget

Interviewer: Now I hate to ask this, but your sister Khloe is having a second baby with Tristan Thompson through a surrogate. Reports say that Tristan has cheated a multitude of times during this pregnancy, what do you make of this?

Y/n: Usually I don’t like to comment on the situations of my family members. As many people know I tend to stay out of the spotlight as much as I can, preferring a more quiet life. I have no doubt that Khloe will be an amazing mother once again, just like she is to True. It’s up to them as parents how they deal with scenarios like this, I just hope that Tristan has the wellbeing of his kids in mind. I know my sister is strong, no doubt she will get through this, it’s just unfortunate

Chris: Yeah listen, I love Khloe, she’s like a sister to me and we are here for her no matter what; for her, True and her new baby.

Interviewer: Well folks, that’s all for today! I can’t thank you enough for coming in! Good luck with everything

Chris: No thank you so much! You’ll be the first to know when i’ve gotten my newest Evans haha

Y/n: He isn’t joking by the way, he will let you know haha, but seriously thank you for today!

——-/

I quite liked this format ☺️

[aimless-imagines-for-fun]

Strawberries and Peaches

Pairing  ::  Eric Northman  x  fem!Reader

Warnings  ::  Angst, Smut, Mentions of Blood, Bloodplay(?idk he’s a vampire so-?), Death

Word Count  ::  3,588

Summary  ::  Eric thought he had lost you centuries ago, and yet here you were again.

A/N  ::  Takes place between season 3 and 4

When you walked into Fangtasia a few nights ago, with an old acquaintance of Eric’s, he thought he had seen a ghost. The last time he laid eyes on you, you were crying. The last time he held you, you were dying. 

-

Nearly several hundred years ago, Eric first met you, a humble girl in a recluse village. Your people warned you not to venture off into the woods, and more importantly, to never speak to the people who walk only during the night. You were kind-hearted though, and so, when a blond man walked up to you after nightfall, begging for help, you couldn’t say no. You more than happily helped him and welcomed him into your home. You treated and cared for him as if he were your own family. 

Eric had never received such kindness from a human before, whether they knew he was a vampire or not. You always gave him a smile, even when people began to warn you about him. He found himself drawn to you. Your scent was like none he had ever smelled before. Strawberries and peaches, with a dash of rose petals. Whenever your fingers touched him, he swore he felt his freezing body warm-up. For the first time in his life, he found himself falling for someone, and slowly, you did too.

Perhaps your feeling for him clouded your judgment, or perhaps you truly didn’t care. When Eric had confessed to being a vampire, you hugged him and told him you’d love him no matter what. Godric tried to warn Eric that starting a life with a human would be dangerous, especially since you weren’t ready to be turned. The thought of being immortal horrified you, however, with Eric it didn’t seem that scary. Still, you weren’t ready to say goodbye to the sun. All he could do was support your decision and wait. His compassion is what killed you, and he blamed himself every day for it until eventually, you were a fleeting thought in the back of his mind. 

There were times Eric had to leave because Godric needed him. Unfortunately, on one of these trips your village, though recluse, was not impossible to find. You were attacked right before sunset by a neighboring kingdom that had recently declared war against yours. Men, women, and children died, homes were burned to the ground. Your home was spared. You were not. Eric returned shortly after the attackers had left, finding the ruins of your village. If his heart was still beating, it surely would’ve stopped. He found you in your home, laying in a pool of blood on the floor with a large slash across your torso. Your breath had stopped long ago, and your warm touch now is just as freezing as Eric’s. He fell to his knees, holding your limp body in his arms. He could see tear stains on your face, and he couldn’t help but wonder what your last thoughts were. Were you waiting for him? Crying for him to return? He’d never know, but he’d make sure he’d have revenge for your death.

-

Time went on, and Eric began to grow unsympathetic. He never allowed himself to get close to another human again as he did with you. He had the occasional flings, and there was Pam. She was a companion and received a different sort of love from him than you did. There was also Sookie, whom he felt drawn to, but he never felt the love for her he felt for you. What drew him to Sookie was the fact she was a fae. What drew him to you, he never quite understood.

You may have become a distant memory, but he’d always remember your sweet scent. Strawberries, peaches, and a hint of rose petals. He hadn’t smelled that sweet aroma since the day you died, that was until a few nights ago.

You walked in with Bishop, an old acquaintance of Eric who knew him long enough to know you. You wore a pastel yellow sundress, not knowing you’d be going to the vampire bar. All Bishop told you was to wear something nice. Hell, the man didn’t even tell you he was taking you to Louisiana. You lived on the west coast in a small apartment as a writer. Ever since The Great Revelation, you had been attempting to speak to as many vampires as you could so you could share their stories with the world. Most were hostile or rude when you questioned them, and the few that would agree had either odd demands you’d have to refuse or were clearly lying. Then, one night, a vampire showed up at your front door, claiming he knew a vampire over a thousand years old who’d tell you his story. Shortly after, you found yourself on a plane and now in a bar called “Fangtasia”.

Bishop told you to wait near the front, which you gladly did, not wanting to walk further in. You stood out like a sore thumb, and all you could do to avoid the gazes you were receiving was look at the wall of shirts they sold.

Bishop walked up to Eric’s throne, a small smile on his face. “Hello, Sheriff-”

“Stop,” Eric said in a cold tone. He narrowed his gaze on the man.  “What do you want?”

Eric and Bishop had a complicated relationship. They had known each other for centuries, but they weren’t friends. Their paths only really crossed when one needed something from the other, typically Bishop needing something from Eric.

“Have you always been this hostile?” Bishop let out a sigh. “I don’t want or need, anything Eric. I came to bring you a gift.” Eric was silent, letting the man continue. “I know you smell her, and yes, it really is her…”

Eric’s gaze moved over to you, standing by, looking at the shirts. You looked exactly the same, besides your (h/c) hair being a bit different now. His eyes softened for a moment, watching you giggle at some of the little phrases they put on the shirts. 

“...or at least, another version of her.”

Eric’s focus snapped back to Bishop. “What?”

“She’s one in a billion.”

Eric knew some people could be reincarnated, but thought the chances of that were slim to none. Godric had only encountered two reincarnated people in his life, and Eric none, until now that is. 

Without another word, Eric approached you. You were so into the silly phrases on the shirt, you nearly missed the tall man approaching you. You turned to face him, a large grin on your face as you extended your hand.

“Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Northman. I’m (f/n) (l/n), but please, call me (y/n).”

“Only if you call me Eric.” 

Looking down at you, the corner of his lips were curved upward. Reaching out to shake your hand, he felt the same warmth he felt centuries ago when your hands touched. You tilted your head touching his hand. Yes, it was cold, but, you felt an odd sense of safety holding his hand, even if it was for a brief moment.

You let out a small chuckle, shaking your head lightly. “I’m sorry, but, do I know you?” You couldn’t help but be forward. You’ve never felt this sense of security before.

Eric, for once, didn’t know how to reply. Technically he knew you, a different you though.

“Possibly, I’ve been around for a long time. There’s a chance our paths have crossed before.”

You hummed in response, before continuing on to tell him about why you had traveled all the way to Shreveport, Louisiana. Eric absentmindedly listened to what you had to say. In all honesty, he was just happy to see you again and agreed to any pitch you gave him. As long as he could be close to you again. Even though Bishop was constantly telling you on your journey here that Eric would say yes, you were still surprised and grateful when he agreed. The agreement was for you to come to Fangtasia each night, sit next to Eric, and he’d tell you his story.

He was one to come up with the arrangement, yet it seemed he cared little about telling you his story. You went several nights in a row, standing out due to your brightly colored clothes each day. Everyone stared at you as you sat next to Eric, except for one of the employees named Pam. She didn’t seem to care a single bit about who you were. The night usually went one of two ways. One: You’d ask Eric a question, he’d give a vague answer, and then quickly shift the focus on you. Two: Men and Women would spend the entire night trying to grab just a sliver of Eric’s attention before he snapped his fingers and Pam came to pry them away. There was one night he almost kicked a man who made a comment as to why you were so special you got to sit next to him, Eric held back. He didn’t want to make you more uncomfortable than you already were in the bar.

Tonight was the second kind of night. So far, the blond had already rejected two women and one man. You couldn’t wrap your head around why people would throw themselves at him. Admittedly, you found Eric handsome, and always wanted to see him smile for some odd reason. Still, you’d never throw yourself at him like these people would. At least, you’d hope you never would.

You were usually patient, however, it had been nearly a week and you still hadn’t gotten a thing from him. You were beginning to grow impatient with him, not to mention tired from your daily schedule changing so much thanks to him as well.

“Hey, Eric, I think I’m gonna head back to my hotel early tonight,” You told him as you began to pack up your things.

Eric looked at you with confusion, brows furrowed. “Why? What’s wrong?” He didn’t want to show it, but he was worried something was wrong.

You stood up, throwing your bag over your shoulder. “Nothing, I’m just tired is all. Have a nice night.”

Walking out of Fangtasia, for the first time ever, you saw a large group of Christian protesters standing a short distance away from the entrance. Usually, you showed up right before sunset and left at the crack of dawn, so you had never seen such a large group. You wouldn’t have cared much if not for the fact that you had to go through the crowd to get to your car. They shouted at you as you walked through, calling you a “fang-banger” and “vampire cunt”. You ignored them, wondering why they had nothing better to do than this. Tonight was one of their rowdier nights though, and you were shoved to the ground. You scraped your hands and knees, tearing the white tights you wore under your blue dress. You began to pick yourself up, and that’s when you noticed the crowd had gone silent. You looked up, curious, seeing Eric now standing right at the front of the crowd, Pam right beside him. He was giving them a murderous glare, daring for one of them to do something so he could rip them apart. 

Once you stood up, Eric turned to you, walking over in a few steps. He grabbed both your wrists, eyebrows knitted together. “You’re bleeding,” He muttered, looking down at the scrapes on your palms. Letting go of one of your wrists, he led you back inside. “Pam, deal with these people,” He ordered right before he walked in.

Briskly, he walked you back to his office, not wanting any of the other vampires to get a whiff of your blood for too long. You had never been in the back, and you didn’t get a very good look around with Eric rushing you into his office.

“Sit on the desk,” He told you as he began rummaging through one of his cabinets for the first aid kit. It was rarely used.

You moved a few of the items on his desk aside so you could hop on. Silently, you looked around the office, waiting for Eric to walk over. After a moment, he found the kit and began cleaning one of your hands. His cold hand held your warm one gently, almost as if he were afraid he’d break you if he wasn’t soft with you. You were closer to him now than ever before, with only a foot of distance between you. You winced when he cleaned the wounds, but as he bandaged them up, you couldn’t help staring at him. You took note of his perfect, still pale, complexion, his blue eyes, and his slightly tense jaw. Little did you know, it was causing a great deal of pain for Eric to hold back and not start licking the blood that came out of your wounds. Your scent was much stronger than before and his mouth was watering, remembering the sweet taste of your blood.

When he was done with your hands, he paused for a moment, looking down at your knees. “I need you to take off your tights.”

You were confused, until you looked down, seeing your ripped tights. “O-oh, right,” you stuttered.

You hopped off and took your little blue heels with ease. Then, you reached up the skirt of your dress and pulled down your now ruined tights, tossing them right next to your bag. As you did, you could feel his intense stare on you, causing your cheeks to heat up. You were about to sit back on his desk until he told you to stand instead. He knelt down to clean the scrapes on your knees, one hand holding the back of your leg. Quickly, he wrapped it up and moved on to clean your other knee. 

Now, you don’t know why you did, but without thinking you questioned Eric. “Why’d you lie and agree to tell me your story?” You covered your mouth right after you asked him. Your mother always did tell you that you had the problem of speaking without thinking.

Caught off guard, Eric looked up at you with wide eyes. “Excuse me?”

Realizing you couldn’t take back what you said, you continue on. “You haven’t told me a thing about you. Why’d you lie to me about telling me your story?”

Without hesitation, Eric replied, “Because I wanted you to be with me again.”

Now you were caught off guard.

“You’re almost an exact replica of someone I cared about and lost a long time ago. You don’t have her memories, but besides that, you’re exactly the same,” He began to explain, “You look like her.” His grip on your leg tightened, “You feel like her.” He moved his head closer to the now clean wound on your knee and took a sniff, “You smell like her.” He licked the fresh blood that was coming out, “You taste like her.”

Eric watched you squirm a bit under his hold, a faint blush spreading across your face. You gripped the sides of your dress, your brows turned downwards and your lips formed a small frown. You thought he was teasing you.

He let out a small chuckle. “You even act the same as her.” He licked your leg again, your breath now shaking.

“S-stop it,” You barely managed to whisper.

You could hear the sadness in his voice and it made your heart hurt. Your eyes began to sting. Your chest grew tight. You couldn’t understand why you felt so sad for him, even though you barely knew him. Finally, he let go of your leg and stood up, towering over you. 

“What if I don’t want to stop?” Eric asked you, eyes peering down into yours.

Your heart was racing now, though you weren’t sure whether it was from fear or perhaps excitement. You knew one thing for sure, with him staring so intensely at you, you could feel a heat beginning to rise up inside you. 

He brought a hand up to the side of your face, stroking his thumb gently across your cheek. Slowly, he began to lean his head down.

With his lips brushing against yours he asked you, “What would you do?” right before pressing a soft kiss onto you. 

You leaned into the kiss, closing your eyes and gripping his black shirt. As it continued on, the kiss began to grow rough, Eric nibbling your bottom lip with his fangs. His hand on your cheek was gentle, but the hand that held your hip was tight. Feeling a small pinch on your lip, you let out a gasp knowing full well he had bitten your lip. It was enough for Eric to shove his tongue in your mouth though, and both of you tasted your metallic blood.

His hand on your hip moved lower, gripping your thigh. He pushed you back against the desk, lifting you so you’d be seated again. He pulled away from your mouth, moving down to your neck. He licked a few spots, before finally biting down and piercing your skin. You let out a soft cry, hands moving to wrap around his neck. You gripped his hair, feeling him suck the blood out of you. You bit your lip, trying to hold back your whimpers.

When he pulled away, you felt light-headed now. Your eyes fluttered open, feeling his hands come off only to swiftly pull your dress off. After pulling off your bra as well, his hands began to roam around your body. You shivered against his touch, your skin feeling like it was burning against his cold hands. He grabbed one of your breasts, squeezing it lightly before leaning down and biting the upper part of it. This time, he sucked to leave a mark rather than to drink your blood. 

A hand of his moved down, in between your inner thighs. He began to rub your clit with his thumb roughly, a moan finally escaping you. He pulled away from your breast, a bloody smirk on his face.

“Well how about that, you sound just like her too,” He teased.

“Sh-shut up,” You stammered.

You moved your hands to pull at the bottom of his shirt. He pulled away his thumb, allowing you to take off his shirt, and see the bulge that had formed in his pants. 

He leaned down to your ear and whispered, “I want you to get yourself ready for me love.” He then grabbed your hand, leading it down to your panties. 

Once he let go, you began to rub yourself through the thin fabric, feeling how wet you already were. You began to rub harder and faster, watching him undo his pants. His briefs went down with his pants, allowing his hardened dick to spring free. With one hand he grabbed the hand you were using to rub yourself out, and with the other, he ripped off your panties, causing you to yelp. Then, he guided you to put a finger of your own inside you, along with his. 

“Eric,” You whimpered.

He continued to guide you, moving your hands together in and out of you at a slow pace. “Shhh, I need to get that tight little cunt of yours ready for me. Okay?”

He stuck another of his own fingers inside of you and all you could do was nod your head quickly. He took out your hand and began to pick up his pace with his fingers. With your moans, and grip on his shoulders, he could tell you were getting closer, begging for a release as you arched your back.

“Eric, please,” you mewled out.

“Please what?”

“I need you, all of you,” you begged.

He pulled out his fingered and positioned himself right at your entrance. “Alright, but only because you begged,” He said with a wink. 

Slowly, he began to push himself inside of you, cursing under his breath at how tight you were. Your nails dug into his shoulders and you buried your face in the crook of his neck. Eric gave you a moment to adjust to his size before he began to move, thrusting at an unbearably slow pace for you. You attempted to move your own hips, wrapping your legs around him. Knowing you needed more, Eric began to pick up the pace almost instantly, causing you to cry out loud. He slammed his mouth against yours, muffling your cries and your moans.

He was finally giving you what you needed, and you knew you’d be undone soon. You almost cried when he pulled out of you completely, until he slammed back into. You let out a loud scream and Eric groaned, feeling you tighten. He continued to pound into you, going harder each time until your body tensed up and you moaned his name loudly, finally hitting your high. Growing close himself, Eric’s thrust had a rhythm before, but now they grew ragged. Soon after you, he hit his climax, cumming inside of you. He proceeded to ride himself out in you and your breath slowly began going back to normal.

Pulling out of you, he placed a quick kiss on your lips. “I hope you know I’m never letting you go now,” He muttered.

“That’s fine because there’s no one else I want to go with.”

[daydreamingatnight209]

Okay so this was a passion project that I really wanted to write, I probably won’t do another and I still don’t feel comfortable writing smut for other people so please do not request it!

Minors please do not read or engage with this post as it is for 18+ only!

Also a big thank you to @erin-bo-berin for helping and encouraging me to continue this project!

Feedback is always welcome! ✨💕

“Alpha-Male Bullshit”

Part 1

Azriel x Female Reader - Part 1

Fandom - ACOTAR

Warnings - Violence, sexual themes, 18+ only, minor spoilers for ACOSF, angst and fluff! 💞☁️

———————————————————————

Lucien Vanserra was a terrible flirt; not because he wasn’t good at it, but because he was constantly flirting with me.

In the beginning I went along with it; I was bored and felt lonely. Cassian had Nesta, everyone knew Rhys had Feyre and Nyx their sweet baby boy, Elain kept busy with her garden and I barely saw our spymaster.

I split my time between training and reading in my chambers.

So, what harm could a bit of flirty banter do between friends?

I didn’t think it would do anything, but Lucien is certainly consistent.

I had a rare free day and found myself in a quiet corner of the library ran by the High Priestess ,Clotho.

It was one of my favourite places to be. The noise in my head stopped, all the pressure and responsibility’s for the court just faded away. I am transported to a land far away.

I was halfway through a steamy romance that Nesta had given me a couple of days ago. We stayed up most nights talking about books and how Cassian had made it his mission to try each technique in the book for Nesta’s pleasure. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know what he was doing, Nesta made that very clear but it was certainly good fun. It made me laugh but it also flushed my body with an incredible sadness. These books were about as close of a love life that I had.

I was lost in my head and the fictional visions that I created with the words on the page when I heard a familiar voice. It made me jump slightly and I heard his deep laugh.

“I knew Nesta loved smut, but I didn’t think your innocent little mind liked it...but then again, I’m sure that pretty little mouth isn’t all that innocent is it?”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes and turn to face him.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, my dear”

I smirk and snap my book back open.

“Are you hoping to live out some of those scenes in those books of Nesta’s like she now is?”

I don’t give him the satisfaction of an answer. A moment passed and I feel his breath on my neck.

“If so, you know where to find me.” He whispers in my ear, before pressing a nimble kiss on my neck and spinning on his heel to walk away.

I released a breath I didn’t even know I was holding and groaned in frustration.

Placing my bookmark back in between the pages, I rose from the chair and left the comforting walls of the library, waving goodbye to the passing priestesses.

I wander aimlessly around the property, taking in the cool atmosphere. The training ring was empty, or so I thought. As I approached it, I spotted a familiar stature. His shadows swirling around his figure as he went through his training exercises.

I sat on the rocks beside the ring as he comes to a stand-still.

“Are you okay Y/N?” He asks softly.

I smile and rub my eyes.

“Yes, I’m just hiding from Lucien. He’s definitely spending way too much time with Rhys and Cassian. He sounds exactly like them.

But , maybe flirting with him could be fun. No one else pays much attention around here to me anyway”

Wherever Azriel goes in his head, my remark seemed to snap him away from his flyaway thoughts.

His eyes blazed and he took a warrior stance. He chest puffed and looked ready to fly at a moments notice.

“Do you need me to have a word with him?”

I couldn’t help but giggle at his overprotective response.

“No Az, it’s okay. I don’t think he fancies losing his other eye. Thank you anyway”

He just nods and returns back to his exercises.

I take this as my cue to leave.

————————————

Nesta finds me in my room later that evening and informs me that Rhys has planned a family dinner and I am required to attend.

She then prances off to her own chambers.

I rummage through my closet and pick out a gown that had fallen down the back.

It was a deep blue, that sparkled in the correct light. It plunged, exposing more of my breasts than usual and the slit started just passed my thigh, with the material of the dress hugging my body tightly.

Mor had gifted it to me last winter solstice but I hadn’t had a chance to wear it yet. No time like the present, I suppose.

I didn’t have time to style my hair dramatically, so I let my long light brown curls fall loosely down my back.

I fiddled around to find a matching bag and heels before slowly descending down the glass staircase.

All eyes were on me as I entered the dining room. The room was eerily silent.

Panic slowly begins to envelope me.

“It’s not too much is it?” I squeak.

Lucien stands and almost knocks down his chair.

“Absolutely not! My god Y/N I thought the wine would be what loosened my tongue tonight, but it looks like that dress is what’s gonna do it instead.

Unbeknown to me, Azriel’s shadows swamped around, doing their best to keep my modesty protected from Lucien’s lewd comments.

“All bark, no bite Lucien. What a shame” I shoot back and take my place beside Elain.

Azriel was seated across from Elain and did his best to contain his rage against Lucien.

I noticed this sudden shift of tension in the room between the two males but decided that now was not the time to bring it up. Especially not in front of the family.

Elain however didn’t seem to have this incentive and piped up.

“Are you okay, Az?” She asks sweetly. She attempts to take his hand. Azriel lets her hold his hand for a millisecond, before quickly pulling away.

I knew he was insecure about his hands and how they have seen years of battle, yet that wasn’t what bothered me most.

What bothered me most, was hearing my nickname for Azriel fall out of Elain’s mouth so casually.

It wasn’t that I disliked Elain, in fact I was happy for her. She is happy and healthy, was quick to adapt to the ways of Fae and everyone in the court had watched her confidence grow tremendously.

Yes, I was happy for her. Yet every time I caught her talking with Azriel, a wave of jealousy would come over me.

Elain didn’t want Lucien and Azriel didn’t want me, not in that way at least.

Everyone was on their way to a happy ending... everyone but me.

I let out a small cough and continue with the evening. Lucien kept up with his filthy ways and I kept up my responses. Cassian laughed with Rhys and Feyre discussed baby clothes with Nesta.

It felt as time had stopped, as I drunk in moment.

Eventually everyone slid off one by one. Amren and Varian first and soon the rest followed.

Mor invited me to her room so that we could spend some time together. I respectfully declined, desperate to climb into my bed.

——————————

Azriel couldn’t sleep. He stood on the balcony and stared into the distance. It was a clear night, the stars shined brightly above him.

As trained as Azriel was, he was still no match for his High Lord’s stealth.

Not that he would admit it to anymore, but his heart missed a beat when he suddenly heard Rhysand’s voice boom behind him.

“Okay Az, what the hell is going on around here? Seriously I have Elain basically drooling over you, Lucien Vanserra flirting with y/n and she’s flirting BACK, and you’re strung tighter than an Illyrian bow”

Azriel wasn’t ready to admit the truth but if he didn’t soon then he had no idea how the hell he would cope, especially after seeing you at dinner earlier. It took all of his strength to remain seated and not knock Lucien from his seat. His cock had strained against his pants so much that it had become painful. He felt Ferrell and you didn’t have a clue.

So Azriel turned around, folded his wings, and stood straight.

“Y/N is my mate”

It took Rhysand a moment to adjust to what he had just heard.

He clapped his brother on the shoulder and cheered, but his celebration was short lived when he saw the sour look on Azriel’s face.

“Okay ... so why do look like you’ve just been slapped in the face with a fish?”

“Because she’s absolutely oblivious! You’ve seen it yourself, the way she is around Lucien. Just because his mate doesn’t want him doesn’t mean he is entitled to mine!” Azriel explodes and doesn’t give Rhys a chance to respond before he launches himself into the night sky.

He spends the night flying around the city before returning at early dawn.

He is surprised to find Y/N stood outside his bedroom door.

She spins around before he could call her name.

You flash a smile that could bring him to his knees.

“I felt your shadows behind me.” You giggle.

“Anyway, I am only here to tell you that Rhys and Feyre are heading down to the cabin for the night. I said we would look after baby Nyx. Is that okay?”

Azriel tried to focus on what you were saying and not your scent. He just nods in response and as you hop towards him. You fling your arms around him and hug.

Azriel just prayed to the saints that you couldn’t feel his member begging to be released beneath his trousers.

————————————————

Nyx was certainly a handful, he was growing quickly and wanted to explore the world. It didn’t take him long to figure out how to crawl which meant keeping him away from pretty much everything in the house. I was just glad he hadn’t learnt how to use his wings yet.

Eventually he powered down and settled in my lap, he was fed, clean and happy. Meanwhile I learnt that I definitely wasn’t ready for children yet.

“How is he?” Azriel yawned as Nyx’s eyes slowly dropped shut, his thumb in his mouth.

I cradled the small boy in my arms as Azriel sat beside me.

“I will go put him to bed in a moment, he just looks so peaceful” I whispered.

Az just laughed.

“You weren’t saying that before when he was destroying the place”

I roll my eyes and gently lift my body up from the sofa before walking to the nursery.

When I entered the living quarters again, I found Az with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

“Want one?” He asks.

I shrug. “Sure, why not”

We sat in a comfortable silence before I was brave enough to speak up.

“So, are you going to tell me why you have been so uptight lately? Is it work?”

Azriel’s comfortable posture, stiffens and he is back on high alert.

Seeing this, I couldn’t help but feel guilty.

I shouldn’t force him to talk, it’s not like he’d want to open up to me anyway.

I decide to change the subject.

“Is it true that the bigger a wingspan, the bigger the dick?”

I watch as Azriel splutters and does his best not to leak his drink over the cream coloured carpet.

“I erm... what?!”

I laugh at the reaction and start to inch closer to him.

I’m high on liquid courage, no way would I ever do this sober.

“Feyre told me that fae wings are super sensitive”

I wrap my legs over each side and place myself down on his lap. He grips me in place and grunts slightly but doesn’t say anything.

I delicately run two fingers down his right wing, they are soft, almost like velvet, yet they shine when the light is right.

“Nesta even said that some men cum from a single touch... if in the right place” I whisper in his ear, placing small light kisses down his neck as my fingers continue to dance over every individual feather. His hips buck upwards involuntarily, and I smirk.

“Well it was something like that anyways”

I remove myself from his lap to drink from my wine glass. Azriel sat grinding his teeth, showing incredible restraint.

I head over to the kitchen and place the empty dishes and glasses in the sink, staying in just the right places so Az still got a full view.

He suddenly springs up from his own seat and follows me into the kitchen. He corners me and I try to remain stoic.

He picks me up like I weigh nothing and rests his body in between my legs.

He uses one hand to brush my hair out of my face and the other to casually trace patterns on my thigh.

His voice was low, and his shadows danced behind him.

“Rumour has it, the bigger the wingspan the bigger dick, right? Well Rhys likes to claim he has the biggest but one drunken night we measured... I’m forbidden to tell anyone this but… I won” he winks and suddenly pulls away acting so very nonchalant.

“The wing thing, I personally don’t know because apparently I haven’t had the right bed mate for that”

There was no stopping me after that. I hook my feet around his knees and use all my strength to pull his body back to mine.

Our faces crash together as we kiss and our tongues battle for dominance. My hands roam his body as I slip them under his shirt. His hands copy my actions and I couldn’t help but groan into him as he gets familiar.

Eventually we pull away for air and our eyes lock for what felt like forever and a day. This unfamiliar feeling of euphoria rushed over my body, attacking my senses. It attacked every inch of me. It felt as if my soul would burst open for the world to see.

The sudden panic that came straight after snapped me back into reality. I broke away from the male in front of me as I gasped for air. Silent tears ran down my face.

I pushed Azriel away with force and ran from the room.

“I’m sorry, I am so sorry I can’t-“

I ran to my room and collapsed down the back of the door.

What was happening?

———————————————————

PART 2 is on its way!!

[ilikekidsshows]

Hey, I was wondering if you could talk more about what you thought about the conflict that happened between Ladybug and Chat Noir in the new york special?

Certainly. Mainly, it’s the same issue we saw in ‘Glaciator’ but manifesting in a different way: these two tend to misunderstand the relationship between them because of their personal experiences and expectations, which tend to naturally be in conflict because of the very different pasts the two characters have. I also think the conflict was two-sided and only one side of the issue at hand was solved. We had Cat Noir’s dishonesty and Ladybug’s inability to act as a comforter, with only the former being solved.

Since it's the one that gets resolved and it's more straightforward, let's start with Cat Noir's side. He's the child of a strict, emotionally abusive father and we've repeatedly seen that he projects his relationship with his father into his relationship with Ladybug, and here it happens again. Gabriel would not let Adrien do what he doesn't allow and we've seen what he does when Adrien disappoints him: punishes him severely.

Strict parents don’t raise obedient children, they raise children who lie well. And Adrien had more of a motive to be deceitful than most. This special was the first time Ladybug gave him responsibility over something. If he said he couldn’t do it, would she ever trust him with anything again? Or, would she simply tell him to suck it up and do as he’s told, forcing Adrien to choose between her and his father in their demands of him? And Plagg, who I will point out, has been actively more helpful in season three, actually helped Adrien come up with a plan that, to their reasonable expectations, would not have led to anyone being hurt or disappointed, so Adrien obviously saw that simply not letting Ladybug know that he wouldn’t be physically present in Paris would work out. Adrien even was responsible about it; he kept himself actively informed of the situation in Paris up until he was made to put his phone away. And then things went to hell in a handbasket at the worst possible moment.

However, here comes the fault in Adrien’s reasoning, which was very reasonable to him and his implied-to-be equally abused Kwami: Ladybug is nothing like Gabriel. Marinette would have heard him out and they’d have come up with a plan together to deal with the situation, as long as Cat Noir got a hold of her soon enough for them to meet up and make a plan. We don’t really know what the time frame is between Adrien finding out and the departure of the plane to New York, but, considering Plagg stopped Adrien from contacting Ladybug, and no time constraint was mentioned, they’d have had plenty of time.

This is the beginning and end of Adrien’s half of the conflict. After this point, he’s merely reacting to what he thinks are clear signals from Ladybug. He tries to help with the villain the best he can, while Ladybug keeps distracting him by berating him in the middle of the fight, finally breaking his will to fight entirely by declaring she can’t trust him anymore, one of the nightmare scenarios I mentioned earlier. Add to that the villain using his power to harm Uncanny, he was convinced that Ladybug would be better off with any other partner. When Ladybug didn’t refute his assessment that he was a failure and no good hero, he decided he was right and abandoned his ring. However, when Uncanny revealed to him that Ladybug did, in fact, still need him specifically as her partner, he came back, deciding that it didn’t matter if he was a worthless failure as long as Ladybug would find a use for him anyway. Adrien repeatedly describes himself negatively in comparison to others, his self esteem is awful, but that wasn’t really a matter being handled in the special.

When Cat Noir made it to Ladybug and was instantly welcomed back, he apologised for not being honest and Ladybug signalled her forgiveness with a fistbump. This gesture signalled to Adrien that he could trust Ladybug and that Ladybug trusted him back, that the things she’d said in anger were just that. This showed Adrien in a blatant way that Ladybug was nothing like Gabriel, who would have lorded Adrien’s failure over him and punished him, instead of accepting his assurance that he’ll do better next time. This was an important lesson to Adrien, because he needs to be as honest with Ladybug as their secret identities allow because they’re a team and can’t go doing things independently when it affects them both. Adrien’s experiences in the special are ones that will specifically help him overcome his character flaw of being too distructful of others’ intentions when it comes to Ladybug.

Then comes Marinette’s side, and this one is more complex. While how badly she was distracted in that fight and how badly she distracted Cat Noir was an issue in and of itself, it wasn’t the thing on her part that escalated the conflict. It was merely what set up her state of mind. What escalated the conflict were the things she said in anger that she didn’t take back while Cat Noir was clearly falling apart. Marinette was understandably upset by what happened in Paris, but she made a very big mistake with how she handled that: she focused only on herself. Marinette needed comfort because she couldn’t heal Paris, but Cat Noir needed comfort because they could do nothing to help Paris, he’d just temporarily killed someone and he felt like a failure as a partner. But, when Cat Noir didn’t instantly move to assure her that she was fine, Marinette turned her back on him and walked away. She wanted space, because Marinette usually finds a quiet corner to think when she’s dealing with something, but Adrien saw that as a rejection. And when Cat Noir voiced all these things going on in his mind, she was silent, making him feel like she was condemning him, seeing him as worthlessly as he did. So he decided to leave her so that she could find a better partner.

Marinette also has her own misconceptions about her and Cat Noir’s relationship. This is another thing I noticed in ‘Glaciator’: Marinette doesn’t think Cat Noir is an actual human being with real human emotions and problems. She got better about it after ‘Glaciator’, like accepting his feelings for her as genuine, but she still doesn’t understand that Cat Noir can get hurt emotionally and might need a bit of support every once in a while. In fact, in ‘Timetagger’, she blatantly shuts him down when he’s looking for affirmation, claiming he “already knows he’s the best”, when Adrien actually has very poor self esteem. I mentioned in another comment that Marinette sees Cat Noir as a fae-like being, someone who only goofs around and supports her, and is never touched by worldly things like pain and sadness. The only threat to him are the supervillains they face. Every time one of them has shown a need for comfort, it’s been Ladybug, and Cat Noir has always been the one to comfort her. They’re stuck in these roles, and Marinette doesn’t know how to break out of them when Cat Noir is the one needing comfort and support. To drive this aspect of the conflict home, this is the direct reverse of the situation in ‘Miracle Queen’. In ‘Miracle Queen’, Marinette makes a mistake with real consequences, gets Fu’s identity revealed to Hawk Moth which led to his capture, but Cat Noir overlooks that to support her instead. In the special, Cat Noir’s mistake causes property damage in Paris that they can’t undo, but Marinette can’t overlook it to support her partner through his mistake.

Here’s the thing: Marinette has a good life. She has a supportive family and supportive friends. This gives her a solid foundation as a superhero and it means she’s used to people picking her up when she falls down. It’s not just her relationship with Cat Noir that’s characterized by the idea that support just shows up when she needs it. Heck, at the end of ‘Love Hunter’, Luka seemingly magically appears for the sole purpose of giving Marinette some comfort. However, we’ve seen some hints, mostly in ‘Weredad’, that at least her dad wants to overly protect her. We don’t know how well Marinette would actually take Adrien rejecting her, but, considering how miserable she was repeatedly in season two over just not getting to see him, I suspect not well, and her dad was convinced she’d go as far as being easily shattered by that. Children need to feel small disappointments to be able to handle the actual hurdles they’ll face later in life. The way Marinette becomes an anxious mess over failing at something reminds me of myself as a teenager, and I was a very shielded child. My mom pampered me, not by much, but enough that I had to learn to pick myself and others up at a later age. And I feel that’s a lesson Marinette needs to learn as well.

We saw from what Marinette said to Uncanny that she didn’t think Cat Noir’s mistake was irreparable. She didn’t mean the gestures I described earlier as how Adrien saw them. She didn’t mean to turn her back on him to reject him and she didn’t mean her silence to be read as her agreeing that he was a bad partner. But she never once considered that she might be sending Cat Noir these signals, even as Cat Noir told her how he felt about himself in relation to her. Instead of supporting her partner by saying anything to refute his self-disparaging comments, or even sharing their pain together, Marinette remains silent, experiencing her own pain alone and leaving Cat Noir with his. Marinette is a good leader, but she’s not a good partner, because she lacks the ability to support Cat Noir. This isn’t her fault, it’s a character flaw like Adrien’s distrust of others to consider his well being in any scenario. However, it’s one that’s harder to fix than Adrien’s, because Adrien’s flaw is one of perception, so he just needs to see contrary evidence to learn better. Marinette’s issue is that she lacks important skills for comforting someone: spotting a need and responding to it. I’m pretty sure we haven’t seen Marinette actively comfort anyone during the entire series. It’s very likely she’s never had to do so before the moment with Cat Noir in this special.

This is why Adrien leaving her was so important to Marinette’s future growth as a partner specifically. Technically Marinette needed it to happen. Marinette had to learn that you can’t expect someone to be there indefinitely if you never let them know you want them there, and she had to learn that Cat Noir needs her to reciprocate the supportive relationship between them instead of only enjoying the benefits of her partner’s almost unwavering support. An unequal relationship will not last. If you just keep someone around for their comfort, they’ll leave you once they have none left to give. If you just keep someone around for their good days, they’ll leave you once their bad days come. But in this special we saw Marinette taking the first steps towards realizing her partner’s humanity, ergo, fixing the part of the issue that’s in her perception: she was still thinking about him when she was Marinette. I noted in ‘Glaciator’ that Marinette usually stops thinking about Cat Noir once she’s Marinette again, which is part of that whole “seeing him as otherworldly” thing. Breaking out of that mindset is as important as it is for Adrien to break out of the “everyone would turn on me if I didn’t please them 24/7” one.

Basically: the conflict was resolved, but it showed where development still needs to happen.

[elriell]

A very big point of tension within the ACOTAR fandom currently is Elain & her ability to produce Illyrian children, and I am here to discuss it. I have no intention of pointing fingers at any one group just hopefully seek to clear up why this line of thought is so damaging and ultimately hurtful to many.

A woman’s worth or ability to be a viable romantic candidate should never reside in her uterus or in this case bone structure, whether that be in day to day life or shipping the principle remains the same, this is a very harmful narrative to those who cannot reproduce.

I don’t think everyone who is arguing this point is trying to be dismissive of infertile women, I have seen a few posts trying to rationalise it by saying they are just reading the textual evidence that supports their ship, but what needs to be understood is in doing so you are implying that having/not having biological kids is a solid reason for a woman not to be a romantic partner and that is not okay.

But if we must look at it and analyse it because it is soooo important textually, then fine, let’s;

“If I had not met a shadowsinger, I would not have known that it is the family you make, not the one you are born into, that matters. I would not have known what it is to truly hope, even when the world tells you to despair.” 

The family you make, not “born in to”. Do you really believe Azriel is going to choose based off babies, he who has little connection to his biological family and has a whole paragraph dedicated to him finding his chosen family?

“Cassian looked over at Az. “You think you’ll ever be ready for one?” Ever be ready to confess to Mor what’s in your heart? “I don’t know,” Azriel said. “Do you want a child?” “It doesn’t matter what I want.” Distant words—ones that prevented Cassian from prying further. ”

While very sad words they are quite telling, this is after they are discussing Feysand’s baby, he is obviously aware of the risks it might pose Elain, but it doesn’t matter to him because he cares/loves her.

“But for them—for my family both of blood and my own choosing, for my mate … The idea that hit me did not seem so frightening.”

“A chosen family. Like the one Feyre had found for herself.”

Throughout the whole series the concept of found family is emphasised. 

The thing that makes me laugh most is the idea that further than adopting, it implies there is no way for Elain to alter her own body, do you really think if Nesta can change her and Feyre’s that Elain (who the Cauldron loves) wouldn’t grant her a gift too. That in a world of magic and faeries this couldn’t be easily explained if need be.

Using one line as justification is so bizarre to me.

 “My bones are slightly more pliant than ordinary High Fae’s, but who cares about that?”

This could very well have double meaning, could come in to play further down the line but we simply can’t say. 

Some people believe Balthazar might be a potential love interest for Gwyn and he is Illyrian, did Sarah add the line for their future children? See how easy it is for one simple line to be relevant to anyone depending on how you frame it. Of course like I said, I don’t believe it was intended to be associated with child birth at all, I am just making a point.

Sarah J Maas is an adopted kid, do you really, genuinely believe she would ever lay the groundwork for one of her couples based on them having a biological child? Does that truly make sense to anyone? 

To give you a little further emotional context, her dedications;

“To my parents: it took me a while to realize it, but I’m tremendously blessed to have you as my Number One fans—and to have you as parents. To my family: thank you for the unconditional love and support.”

“To my family (especially my parents): I love you to the moon and back.”

“To my parents: thank you for the fairy tales and folklore, for the adventures around the world, and for the weekend mornings with bagels and lox from Murray’s.”

“To my parents: it’s been one hell of a year, but we made it. I’ll never stop being amazed and grateful that I can even say those words. I love you both.”

“My wonderful parents and family: it’s been so long since we’ve been able to see each other in person, but I’ve felt your love even from hundreds of miles away.”

Yes, yes, certainly sounds like a woman who would hinge a relationship on biology. 

You can analyse textual evidence seven ways to Sunday and 9/10 I will never comment on it because theorising is all for fun, but this topic is genuinely concerning that people truly believe SJM would suggest such a thing in her literature. 

I genuinely believe she would be incredibly disappointed in her readers for thinking she would imply such a hurtful narrative.

[Infertility Article  &  How it Can Affect People] Some interesting reading if you want to understand a little more peoples pain, and trauma in this area but genuinely you can do a quick Google and find countless articles about it.

But that’s just my opinion. 

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Fingers and Toes // H.P.

Request: heyy!! i’m not sure if you still take requests but i was wondering if you could write a harry fic as a dad? like make it all fluffy and stuff like that? thanku!! - anon

Summary: Glimpses into Harry’s life as a father.

A/N: I adore this request! Thank you so much for sending it, I hope you like!! Also I made some changes to canon, so in this there are only two children, not three. 

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, mentions of injury and nightmares. This is nothing but wholesome fluff.

Word count: 1.6k

On the eve that Harry became a father, he couldn’t quite believe the size of his son’s fingers and toes.

Ten tiny fingers.

Ten tiny toes.

As a whole hand of tiny fingers wrapped around one of Harry’s, Harry made a silent vow.

This vow he made as he glanced between his newborn son and you, sleeping peacefully after an intense delivery. This vow he made to remind himself of the importance of family.

The ten fingers and ten toes of his newborn son would never once experience the level of pain he had. His son would never go through the emotional torment of never knowing his parents; his son would never experience true loneliness.

Harry made the vow in utter silence, sealing it with a kiss to his son’s head. As if in response to the promise made, his son squeezes his father’s finger, gripping it with all the strength in one of his tiny hands.

Ten fingers, ten toes. All perfect, and all there.

-------

It’s a huff and a cry that follows that has Harry rushing from the kitchen into the back garden. Harry’s heart stops at the sight of his son sprawled on the floor; fat tears running down his face more from shock than pain.

He brushes his son down, checking for any major injuries as he does so. His heart returns to a normal rhythm once he realises that James is entirely uninjured, suffering shock more than anything.

“How many fingers, James?” Harry asks; reaching out brush the tears away from James’ face.

“Ten.”

“How many toes?”

“Ten.”

Harry kisses his son’s hair, “Ten fingers, ten toes. We’re ready to go. Do you feel better?”

James nods; wiping away the last of his tears and smiling shakily up at his father. Harry smiles back at his son; lifting him under the arms and settling him on his hip. “I think we’ve had enough of the outside for now,” Harry comments softly, “Will you help me make lunch, James?”

James nods once more, tucking his small head into the crook of Harry’s neck. Harry chuckles softly, heading back inside where he settles his son on a stool at the kitchen counter.

“What will it be, James? A sandwich or some soup?”

“Soup!” His son shouts, a smile on his face as Harry grabs the tins from the cupboard and sets the pan on the stove.

You enter the kitchen, pressing a lingering kiss to Harry’s cheek before dropping a kiss to James’ head. “What’s happening here?”

“Lunch Mama!”

You laugh, “I can see that. What are we having?”

“Soup,” Harry states.

Harry watches you with a warm smile. You pick up your son, settling on his stool before sitting James on your lap. Harry thinks back to his teenage years; to the years that he didn’t know whether he would make it through the school year never mind make it to having a family.

The rich laughter of his son brings Harry back from his memories; fetches harry back from the precipice in which he found himself teetering. He lets himself have his small panic; Harry lets himself fall prey to the anxiety that has unfurled in his gut. But he only lets it keep hold of him for the amount of time it takes him to count the fingers and toes on his son.

Ten fingers, ten toes. Harry’s mind calms and his smile returns to his face.

Ten fingers, ten toes. All will be well.

--------

Harry lurches upright. A hand to his throat as he drags in air; his mind rattled and his body shaking. It had felt so real. It had been real; he had experienced his nightmare before as a teenager, but now, knowing he had much more to lose, it felt even more terrifying.

He glances over to your sleeping body; a hand outstretched towards him even in sleep. His eyes run over you; watching your sleeping form rise and fall as breath leaves your body. Harry’s mind settles slightly as he sees you’re alive and with him. The silver wedding band on your left hand signally a happy future from the nightmare he had found himself in.

Harry presses a kiss to your forehead, brushing your hair back from your face before leaving you in bed. He shives against the cold air of the night; the landing freezing as Harry sits at the top of the stairs, hanging his head in his hands.

He knows logically that there is no threat now; he vanquished it years ago and there had been no signs of another uprising since. Yet, Harry spends most nights having to repress the urge to stand guard by the front door, wand at the ready for whomever should come crashing through posing a threat to his wife and his son.

James stands by his door; his teddy hanging from his hand as Harry tries to settle his breathing and heartbeat.

“Daddy?” He asks, voice quiet yet ringing through the silent house.

“James,” Harry says, a hand reaching for his son.

James goes into his arms willingly, yawning tiredly as he settles his head against his father’s shoulder. James doesn’t say a lot, even this young he knows that his father struggles to sleep on some nights. He had found him asleep on the couch downstairs more often than not, a blanket thrown haphazardly over his body as James hears his mother soft humming from the kitchen.

“How many fingers?” James asks, stumbling over the harder sounds in the words.

Harry swivels to face his son; the question being the last thing he expected.

“Ten, James.”

“How many toes?” James follows, kicking his feet in the air for emphasis.

The weight on Harry’s chest feels lighter as he answers his son, “Ten, James.”

Ten fingers, ten toes. James reminds Harry – ten fingers, ten toes, and we’re ready to go. As long as we have all ten fingers and all ten toes, we can do just about anything, even if it is defeating the terrors that haunt us at night.

-------

The very same vow is made when Lily Luna Potter arrives in the world on a sunny March morning. Harry felt sure that he had the same awe-filled expression on his face from when he first held James.

The pregnancy had not come as a shock to either you or Harry. The both of you had been trying for a second child for close to a year before being blessed with a positive test.

The nerves do not rack Harry as much as they did before James arrived. However, they still turn his stomach as he watches you go through the same experiences of morning sickness followed by odd cravings. For James, it had been chocolate with cheese and onion crisps. For Lily, it had been crackers slathered with butter followed by plain digestive biscuits.

Harry crinkled his nose at all cravings, but kept his mouth shut for fear of upsetting you. He would reassure your worries as you would reassure his. The both of you looking to James as an example that so far, neither of you had failed at parenting. The small boy turning into young child that knew his manners and was devoted to his mother.

It is James who whispers the vow. He stands over the cot of his baby sister, eyes wide in awe at the small bundle of blankets. He turns to his father; catching his attention from whatever conversation he was having with you.

“Ten fingers and ten toes,” James whispers, pointing to Lily’s hands and feet.

“Ten fingers and ten toes,” Harry states, the vow unleashed to the world and sealed with the very same kiss he had placed upon James’ head all those years ago.

----------

The Hogwarts’ Express hoots behind them. James looks toward the train before fixing his tear-filled gaze on his father. Harry is barely keeping it together himself; the first of his three children to be going away to school. He knew he would be emotional; he just didn’t prepare himself for the pit of dread eating its way through his stomach lining.

Harry reaches out to ruffle his son’s hair. His first born; his eldest – the one who made him a father, who had moulded him into the man he is today.

“Write to your mother and I when you get settled?”

James nods. “As soon as I get to my room,” He replies, voice quiet.

“Do not be scared of whatever house you are sorted in. Your mother and I love you either way.”

A weight is lifted off of James’ shoulder; he had been silently obsessing over that since the letter first arrived. His father, the great Harry Potter, was known for his strong allegiance to the house of Godric. James couldn’t help but panic if he was to be sorted into any other house; he didn’t want to think of his father’s reaction should he be sorted into Slytherin.

Harry pulls James into a hug; unable to let his son go without one more. As they part, Harry pats James on the shoulder, nodding towards the open carriage door, silently letting him know that it’s okay now. It’s okay to let go and board the train.

James does so with a wobbling lip; trying his best not to cry in front of those who could be his housemates for the formative years of his life.

“Fingers and toes,” Harry shouts, not caring about the odd looks from the other parents. These were his final verbal words to his son until Christmas. He would make sure they were   those that he vowed over his cradle when he was only a few hours old.

James sticks his head out of the carriage window. “Fingers and toes!” He cries, throwing the promise back to Harry.

He would return in one piece.

All ten fingers and all ten toes.

*******

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @theweasleysredhair @harrypotter289 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @figlia--della--luna @idont-knowrn @liilyevanss @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @starlightweasley @dreaming-about-fanfictions @lestersglitterglue @msmimimerton @obx-beach @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @bbeauttyybbx @breadqueen95 @acciotwinz @kashishwrites​ @slytherinsunrise​ @kylosleftbuttcheek​ @remmyswritings​ @xfirstfemale-marauderx​ @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon​ @ria-rests-here​ @inglourious-imagines​ @superbturtlemakerathlete​ @ithilwen-lionheart​ @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown​ @ilovejjmaybank​

[sp00kworm]

Who needs lights?

Pairing: Durzub (Goth Male Orc) x Gender Neutral Reader

Warning: Suggestive Themes

This wonderful piece is based off a very lovely OC by @of-devils-and-drawings. Durzub belongs to her and I adored him too much not to make this for him. I’m a sucker for anything scary and/or orc.... and/or metal....and/or goth. 

---

You’d always found a little bit of comfort being in the alternative scene, even when others stared and watched in the street as you went past, going about your business, bundled in black layers or flares and platforms. It was something unique and different and it was very much a part of your life. The bars were always better places too. You laughed at the bar at your friend as the bar tender tied his platinum, lilac streaked hair back and started to mix the cocktail for the jug. It was easier to order in large pitchers and watch the band playing from the platform the bar was on. You watched the alcohol mix as the Fae grinned at you, revealing incredibly dangerous, sharp teeth and placed two straws into the jug before sliding it closer to the two of you.

You paid for it before laughing and turning a straw to the Faun, “To our health! Well, and my new job!” You cheered.

“Oh, for sure, finally you’re not broke and can pay for drinks!” She jeered as she pursed her lips and leaned down to take a few long sips, “Jesus Christ, Flix!” She coughed, “You trying to get us drunk and make us easy, or something?”

Flix rolled his eyes as he flipped a cocktail shaker over and caught it, “You wish Pip. You two haven’t ever been my type.” He snorted as his lilac, gossamer wings fluttered behind his back in irritation. He laid his burning black eyes on a group in the corner, “Though, I like the look of those troublemakers.” A claw raised to point at the group of Orcs who were gathered in the corner.

 Pip’s brown ears flicked before her hooves clicked against the black floor, the sparkly tiles reflecting the strobes from the stage. She grinned and flicked at the ring in her nose, her shaggy black hair flopping back over her dark eyes, “Oh,” She purred, “I didn’t know you were into the rowdy muscle-head sort.”

Flix flipped the cocktail again before giving her the middle finger and moving to serve the cocktail to a woman who had just come out of the crowd watching the band.

“Who are they?” You asked after taking a long drink of the cocktail, “I haven’t seen them here before?” You looked over at the group again before realising how perfectly they fit in here in the bar. All were dressed in a variety of fashion, from heavy leather, to chains, to netting. Others donned fancier items with flowing sleeves and long, tailored skirts and trousers. The majority were green in skin tone, but you looked at a few lighter coloured, grey toned orcs with interest as they were from the mountainous regions of the old country.

Pip clicked her tongue, “Muscle heads and trouble, the lot of them.” She took another few drinks before hopping back onto her bar stool and adjusting her net top over her ripped shirt. Around her waist was a thick leather belt, the studs dripping with thin metal chains that hung around her furry hips, “They come to shows like this and usually start fights.” She commented off-handedly.

 With a frown, you looked from her, to the group again, “They just seem to be drinking and watching?” You commented.

Pip snorted a short bleat again, “Yeah, wait until this gig really kicks off, then you’ll see what I mean. Last time I was here with them one of them decided it would be a great idea to upturn tables, and by that, I mean, upturn my drinks over my new dress.” She hissed venomously, “They’re assholes, the lot of them.”

“They don’t look like it…” You uttered as one of the Orcs stood from the group and dragged his friend up with him to get drinks. The rest of them hollered their orders before some of the group split off to join the crowd watching the band.

“Oh great. Here they come!” Pip cheered before moving two seats down and dragging you along with her.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Pip.” Flix commented with a hiss and flutter of his wings, “They’re all lookers, I don’t see why you can’t look past that.” He shrugged his shoulders before smiling at the two male orcs at the bar, “What can I do for you two handsome fellas?” His eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings at them and you snickered at the scent of lilac flowers that drifted from him like a thick perfume.

 “Come on, Flix. Lay off it for one night will ya!” One of the orcs laughed before he elbowed his friend, “This guy’s new here. Don’t go scaring him off already. You lot need our custom.” The orc leaned back and scrubbed at his mohawk, adjusting his heavy cargo trousers. Fabric belts hung between the legs and down them and he wore a heavy half tartan kilt over the top. His face was littered with piercings and you could see why he looked like the sort to be causing problems.

“You know I love you all equally, Xurek.” Flix laughed, “But I was more excited for your lady friend over there. She’s new too huh?”

“Jesus, you never give up! Anyway,” Xurek took the other orc around the neck, “This is Durzub. He’s new in town. Just moved in from out from the sticks. He might look like a foul piece of work, but you’ve met Rakuh, so he’s not as scary.” Xurek laughed before he let the darker skinned orc go. The other male reached up to brush his black hair from his eyes. Most of his long black hair was braided in tight long threads, the braids sequenced with small beads along them with the rest straight and hanging over his shoulder beneath the wide brim of a black hat, emblazoned with a silver trim around the base. He turned, dressed in a black long shirt and coat, the end trailing behind him as he ducked out of Xurek’s grasp, brown eyes angry.

 Durzub snorted and tossed his head, the braids sliding back out of his way over his shoulder before he reached up to move his tangled chains from the ends of his hair, the necklaces hanging with silver teeth, “Will you stop dragging me around like a child, Xurek!” He snorted as he dragged his arm out of Xurek’s grasp and adjusted his hat again before sighing and taking it off, “Any way I could get you to store this behind the bar for me? Its new and these lot have a habit of throwing beer the later it gets.”

Flix fluttered his eyelashes again, “Sure thing, sweetheart.” He took the hat and turned around to hang it near the aprons, “Just grab me before closing and I’ll get it you.”

“Thank you.” Durzub rumbled before pulling his hair back again, tucking the straight length on his left side behind his ear, revealing rings of silver and studs of obsidian, which matched the rings, linked by a chain, on each of his short tusks.

“Don’t be nice to him, Durzub, he’ll eat you alive given the opportunity.” Xurek snickered behind his hand as he flapped his band shirt, trying to cool himself down, “His family ate children back in the day.”

“That was five hundred years ago!” Flix scoffed as he slammed two, pint glasses down on the bar, “So, was it two ales or two lagers?”

“We were thinking mead actually.” Xurek stuck his pierced tongue out before he played with the bar, “And not that piss water Weldrick buys for the goblins!” Flix ignored him and turned for the taps down the other end of the bar.

 Pip scoffed at the exchange, but you found your mouth opening at the sight of the long-haired orc and his scowl. He watched Flix’s wings before he turned away from Xurek’s chattering and pushed his hand over his mouth. You watched the exchange as Xurek stuck his tongue between the other’s fingers and couldn’t help but laugh loudly as Durzub cringed and recoiled.

“You’re fuckin’ disgusting.” Durzub rolled his eye and took a napkin from the holder to wipe the spit from his fingers and the skull rings which sat above his knuckles.

“Mmm, you taste like fresh meat.” Xurek hissed like a comically bad vampire, and you laughed again, but this time louder. It was loud enough that the two orcs looked down the bar to where you and Pip were sat with your cocktail jug.

“Well done! Now we have their attention.” Pip hissed in your ear before she kicked at your chair with one shoed hoof, clanking the metal with a vicious bang.

Xurek’s smile made you regret everything, as you watched his gaze shift from your face to the larger orc stood next to him, “Looks like we have an audience, Durzub.”

 The other male turned slightly on one heel, looking at you both with a raised eyebrow, looking over the two of you perched at the end of the bar, “Don’t mind this freak. He’s got a way of making everyone hate him.”

“Oh, that’s fuckin’ cold!” Xurek hissed at him, “After I introduce you to those bands too!”

Durzub rolled his eyes again as Xurek slinked around him to laze across the bar on one arm, his head propped up on his fist, “Bands which have given me nothing but persistent headaches.”

“Headaches but three magazine features!” Xurek wound his middle finger up before he smiled at the two of you again, “Ignore him. He was castrated at birth.” The statement earned him another gruff noise from Durzub.

“We don’t want your attention, Xurek.” Pip gave him a sardonic smirk, “Not unless you’re replacing those drinks from last time.” She leaned on her own open palm and bared her teeth at him, her hoof clicking against the bar stool.

“You’re a cold bitch, Pip. You know that was an accident.” Xurek whined, “Highlander honour.” He crossed his heart, “Anyway, why don’t I introduce you to my new friend here?” He wrapped his arm around Durzub, making the other spill mead down his fingers as he dragged him over to the two of you, “This is Durzub. He’s a music producer, and part time good looker.”

 “You’re a music producer?” You asked in awe before you turned and looked at the stage, “Are you here for these guys?” You pointed at the industrial band on stage as the lights went low and they started the intro for their next song. At the back here it wasn’t as loud, and you could readily hear the two orcs.

“Yeah. They’re a new signing.” Durzub rolled his shoulders in a shrug, “I never really sign their sort, but it seems like they have a decent following.”

“Come on, mate, we’re here to chill out, not to talk work.” Xurek groaned and laid against the sticky bar top before recoiling in disgust.

“I know, you great oaf.” Durzub placed Xurek’s drink next to him, “Are you both here to see the show?” He asked, his voice slipping from ‘totally pissed off’ into something that was ‘gruff but polite’. Either way, his soft country accent made you smile before you took a few mouthfuls of cocktail for courage.

Pip answered before you could swallow, “We come on a Friday to wind down. The gigs are always just a bonus.”

 She shot a look at you with her dark, goat eyes, warning you from speaking as she steered the conversation, “What about you guys? You here to bother people on their nights off?”

“Well, we know where we ain’t wanted.” Xurek shrugged his shoulders at Pip’s rudeness, “Sorry to harass you, but you don’t have to be a salty asshole about spilt drinks, you know.” He watched Pip’s temper flare and you ducked back as she slammed her hand against the bar top.

“You listen here you little asshole!”

“Little?” Xurek scoffed, “I tower over you, babe.”

Pip gave a bleat of anger before she swept her leg around you and cracked Xurek in the shin, “It was my new dress you ass for brains!” She hissed at him before she stood up to walk around you and face the orc head on.

“What do you want me to say, huh?!” Xurek goaded, “Oh I’m so sorry that my accident ruined something I couldn’t stop. Get over yourself thinking I did it on purpose!” He fumed with anger.

You leaned back before hopping out of your chair, taking the jug of cocktail in one hand and a tall glass in the other before you turned to Durzub, “Hey come on. They’re going to be screeching for a while. Want to go and sit on the balcony and watch?”

 Durzub seemed a little taken back by the offer, “Oh, sure.” He uttered as he pulled Xurek’s drink away from him and then took his own in hand and following you towards the stairs, leading to the viewing area above the pit. You found two stools and a table and happily placed your drinks on it before leaning on the railing to look down at the band as they headbanged together on stage.

Durzub sat awkwardly for a moment before he coughed behind his head, “So, what is it that you do?” He asked as he leaned over the table, eyeing the mixture of liquor and fruit juice in your jug.

You turned from the show and smiled, “Oh nothing as interesting as music production. I just got hired at a new modelling agency.”

“Do you model then?” He asked with wide eyes, “Because you’re certainly…”

“Oh, God no. Nothing like that. I work with brands and secure deals and shoots. I work with Skull Crusher and Tombstone mostly.” You smiled and sipped cocktail through your straw.

Durzub tucked his hair back again with a sweep of his hand, “That explains the look then.” He smiled softly, “Do you get some sweet discounts?” He asked.

“Like you wouldn’t believe. It’s never been cheaper to be a goth!” You cheered as you looked down at the rowdy beginnings of a mosh pit, then back to the bar.

 You gave a great laugh, “Well, looks like their argument is sorted.” You pointed at Xurek with his bruised cheek. He slammed back his drink before storming away into the pit, rushing through a mosh pit before his eyes caught sight of a human among the others. You grinned at his expression. Dumb struck.

“Jesus. I hope they’re ready to be pestered.” Durzub chugged a few mouthfuls of mead before he scoffed, “Whenever he gets that look, he ends up heartbroken a week later.”

“Well, it might be different this time, you know?” You smiled back at Durzub, “Maybe this is the one!” You cooed.

“You’ve got fairy tales in your head and cotton candy to go with it. He’s going to have a one-night stand then not shut up about her for the next three weeks.” Durzub held up three fingers as he drank some more, “Or he’ll relay every little detail to us on our next outing. He has zero filter.”  

“I can tell that much.” You laughed as you shuffled back in your seat, “What about you then, have you met your one?”

“My one?” Durzub scoffed, “Hardly. How old do you think I am?” He leaned on his fist and pointed back at himself, giving you a curious look.

 You felt like this was a trap, “Are you doing this so you can get mad when I guess wrong?” You asked as you pushed the ice around in the glass.

“Hardly. I’m not sensitive.” He grumbled as his painted fingers tapped against the side of the pint glass.

“Hmm, if you say so.” You leaned over the table to squint at his face. You’d worked with a few orcs before, but most were young models, sharp featured and tall, broad in the shoulders. Durzub was the same, though his face had wrinkles in places which would suggest he was far over twenty years old, “Thirty-six.” You decided with a smile.

Durzub let out a low laugh, “Not far off actually. I’m thirty-eight.” He pointed to the stage, “And I used to do that. Played in a band until about five years ago. Started as a producer then. Never looked back.”

“Oh wow. Who did you used to play with?” You asked in awe.

“A gothic rock sort of deal.” He replied before he looked into your pleading eyes, and relented, “Zi Gijak.”

“No way.” You rushed to stand from your seat as you recognised the Orcish name, “Black Blood!?”

 Durzub ducked his head, reaching for where his hat had sat before he realised, he wasn’t wearing it, “Keep your voice down, please.” He begged quietly, “I don’t need people in this place to recognise me.”

“How could they recognise you now? You look nothing like you did back in the day.” You stated before realising what you said sounded rude, “Not that you look bad now it’s just…”

He laughed at your awkwardness, “I know. I ditched the netting and bones a while ago.”

“You didn’t look half bad in it though, even five years ago.” You winked at him with a sudden rush of confidence, “Though I think this outfit suits you just as much.”

Suddenly, it was as though the intimidating exterior melted, and you watched Durzub’s face go flushed with embarrassment, “Thanks. It has been a change.”

Without making him any more embarrassed you changed the subject a little, “So what bands do you produce for now?” You asked.

“Quite a few. I used to work with SIREN before they got huge, but that sort of metal was never something I could do rather well, I thought.” He shrugged, “They’re with a more focused label now.”

“No way…This keeps getting better and better!” You uttered again.

 “Better and better for you. They were a headache and a half for me!” Durzub chuntered into his drink before he swallowed the last bits of it, “I’m glad they’ve moved up. They were good for business.” He smirked over the edge of the pint glass.

“Only thinking of the money.” You tutted playfully, “That’s no way to treat your bands.” You joked.

“Oh no, but that makes me feel better knowing my weekly migraines are worth the agony.” Durzub chuckled as he watched the band on stage, “These guys ain’t half bad for a show though. I think I picked the best from the bucket.”

“They have an interesting ensemble.” You smirked at the leather clad demoness as she slinked along the stage before she growled from her stomach, a crop landing against the hand of a handsy looking fan in the front.

“Interesting but it’s the sort of thing that gets you recognised.” Durzub noted as he watched, “This place is a refuge for all kinds of people. I’m glad Cal has got this place running with Weldrick.”

 “Who’s Cal? I’ve met Weldrick. Giant bright white minotaur, right? Build like a brick shit house with all the piercings?” You recalled.

Durzub nodded, “That’s him. He’s about eight foot tall too. Scariest mother fucker I ever did meet.” He shifted in his seat, “Cal is the co-owner, but he’s not around that often. He’s a vampire, but he’s not people fond.” The orc shrugged before offering you half a smile, “We all used to work together, believe it or not.”

“Wait…” Your mouth dropped open, “I’m actually stupid.”

“Cal was the singer of Black Blood. Weldrick ran our security back in the day.” He laughed at your open mouth before he leaned over to close your mouth with two large fingers. He brushed his fingers over your chin before leaning back and pointing to your drink, “Do you want anything else?”

“I’m okay thanks. I’ll keep your seat warm.” You joked as he stood up with a nod and grumbled about having something better than ‘shitty mead’.

 “I’ve never seen Durzub ever sit and talk with someone in a bar.” A deep, gravelly voice rang out from behind you. You turned around in your chair to see a tall, human looking male watching you, his sunglasses perched on the end of his nose as he regarded you with a mild amount of curiosity from over the lenses. He reached out a hand awkwardly, “Cal.”

“As in…” You took his hand, and flinched at the stone coldness of his grip, “Co-owner of the bar, Cal?”

“The very same.” He shook your hand lightly before his hand disappeared quickly back into his pocket, “I just came to say hello. I was curious. He hates attention in these kinds of places…”

“Just like you then, apparently.” You observed as you turned on your seat to face him. He was a giant man, but stony cold, and overly pale, looking almost grey around his reflective, steel-coloured eyes. They shone red as he turned, the bouncing curls of black hair spilling over his shoulders before he reached for a cigarette packet and cursed, seeing it was empty with only his lighter inside.

 “Cal?” Durzub returned with a large looking ale in his hand, “Weird time to show yourself. Unless you were planning to steal this one for a snack, hmm? As usual.” He scoffed.

“You know I’ve been off the blood for years…” Cal whispered as he rummaged in his other back pocket, before finding a small, slim packet of chewing gum, “I don’t…”

“Yeah. Save it. That’s what you said last time, Clarence.” Durzub huffed into his drink.

Cal’s back went ridged before he stooped over and unfolded the wrapper of his gum, “You don’t get to call me that.” He whispered again, his gravelly tone rumbling in the back of his throat before he slunk away, back into the shadows, and disappeared in a shadowy wave of his black hair.

“Sorry you had to see that.” Durzub rumbled from across the table, “Its…complicated.”

You span back around and smiled, “Don’t worry about it. I think Pip had more of a fight with Xurek.” You snickered as you turned to spy her sat at the bar, batting her eyelashes at Flix as he served, “Though I think she’s okay now. She’s turned her eyes on a certain someone.”

Durzub looked down at the bar and laughed as well, “Well I guess you know her type now.” He joked as he sipped at his ale.

“Yep. Scary pretty boys, who aren’t part of your friends.” You snickered as you sipped at the last of your cocktail and refreshed the glass.

 The band on the stage purred their final song as you took another drink, and you looked at your phone with wide eyes at the time.

“I have to get up tomorrow for errands.” You lamented, looking at the clock. It was almost midnight, and you knew Pip would be here for hours if you left her to her own devices.

“So, this is where the night ends.” Durzub laughed before he finished the last of his own drink, “Here.” He tugged out his phone, “Let me give you my number?”

You nodded and took your phone out to exchange numbers before checking it was working and showing him the message came through okay.

“Thank you for tonight.” You smiled at him, “We should do this again.” You leaned over and carefully placed a kiss on his flushed cheek, “For an grumpy music producer, you’re funny to be around.” You took your bag and looked at Xurek, who was busy pressing a human against the far wall, “And look after Xurek, huh? Looks like he might just get himself into trouble again.” You descended the stairs just as the orcs started cheering for the male and shook your head.

 After speaking to Pip, and confirming she had a taxi to get home, you exited the bar and shivered in the cold, before you felt a warm presence behind you, and a hand catch your own.

“Hey!” Durzub grunted as he caught your hand, “Let me walk you home?” He asked, “No way in hell I’m staying to watch those lot gawk at Xurek strip a human down.” He sneered. His sneer softened as you interlinked your fingers together and squeezed his hand before looping an arm through his own, leaning into his body heat.

“Sure. You can walk me home.” You leaned into his arm again and smiled, “I live three blocks away, so it’s a bit of a short walk.”

“Better to spend time with you.” Durzub whispered before he looked at the night sky, “I’m still sorry about what happened with Cal…”

“Honestly, it never happened, okay?” You patted the orc’s large arm, “We all have our differences and reasons.”

“Still. I was rude.” He huffed before he reached for his hat and tugged at the brim, “I’m glad I got to meet you at least tonight.” You tried to ignore the way he tugged at his bottom lip before he adjusted the decorative chain over his lip and smiled, still a little awkward.

“Me too.” You purred back at him.

 The messages started off polite between the two of you, but it was quickly a regular thing for you both to message back within a minute or two depending on if Durzub was working in the studio or you were in meetings. You were both enamoured. It didn’t take long for you both to meet again, eating together in a restaurant which was a little bit too expensive for you. It was high end, and suited Durzub as he sat there eating, looking intimidating as he ate couscous and chopped vegetables before smiling and blushing with embarrassment as you complimented him and his outfit. For such a giant orc, with a bigger scowl, he was softened whenever you said something nice. Several nights together on dates lead to this one, finally going to his studio to see what he did, and to listen to something he had been working on. Excitement churned in your gut as you looked at the choker around your neck and touched the spikes around its surface before flicking the dog tag and grinning at yourself before you rushed for the door to meet Durzub.

 “Hey!” You shouted at the orc. He was stood out on the pavement, dressed in an old print of a Black Blood shirt with a screaming orc and vampire on the front, blood dripping from both of their mouths. He was dressed in dark jeans, littered with pocket chains and a heavy leather duster to combat the cool breeze. He looked up from beneath his broad rim hat. Instantly, Durzub’s perpetual scowl turned into a small smile, and you took hold of his hand before leaning up to kiss his cheek before placing a soft kiss against his bottom lip. He was always a little slow to catch up, but he returned the kiss with a gentle rub of his tusks to your chin.

“Hey stranger.” He rumbled before he gestured to the building, “My studio is on the sixth floor.”

“This doesn’t look much like a record label building to me.” You hummed as Durzub led you into the reception. A naga waved him on up with you, looking back at her work with a hiss and a grumpy frown.

“Not yet it doesn’t. Wait until we get into the actual building. This is just the polite front for greeting people.” The elevator dinged as he pressed the button and the two of you climbed inside. He pushed the button for the sixth floor and you jittered with anxiety as it moved upwards slowly.

“I’m excited and nervous.” You whispered as the doors opened on floor two and let some more people in.

“Don’t be, baby. You’ll be fine.” Durzub soothed as you continued up.

 The sixth floor was littered with records on the walls, gold, red, black and mixed dyes. You looked along the walls before Durzub tugged you down the carpeted hall. You followed a step or so behind, trying to read the framed records as you toddled behind him, little out of your depth. Durzub’s coat trailed behind him and you moved to not step on it as he stopped at his door. He unlocked it with a click of an electronic card and you watched the black door swing open to reveal the sound room.

“Wow.” You stepped inside in front of him and looked at the expensive sound equipment, keeping your hands to yourself to avoid being told off or ruining anything, “This is some expensive gear.” You grinned at him, “And pretty.” You peered past the soundproof glass to see the guitars and drum kit in the recording box and smiled at the pointed-v design one, knowing it was from when he played with Black Blood.

“I knew you’d spot that one.” Durzub said mildly before he threw his coat over a speaker and collapsed into his large office chair, the leather making him shiver with the cold against his arms, “This is where I spend most of my life, making kids realise that riffs are stupid in the wrong places.” He scoffed before tugging you a chair from the other soundboard and patting it, “Come sit. I have some things to show you.”

 Carefully, you placed your coat on top of Durzub’s before joining him by the large computers, eyeing the two screens as he logged in, squinting at the screen.

“Fuck. Glasses.” He reached into his desk drawer and pulled free a set of circle frame glasses, putting them on before cringing and looking back at you, “Not as young as I used to be…”

“You look cute in them.” You gushed as you scooted the roller chair forwards and made sure to sit as close to him as possible, “Being able to see is important, even if you don’t look as scary with glasses on.” You teased.

“Yeah…” He let the words drop off as he found what he was looking for and pulled free two sets of expensive headphones. Durzub leaned over and gently tucked them over your ears, holding them and holding up an ‘okay’ sign before he donned his own and pressed play. He leaned back in his chair and you sat impatiently before the noise of a gentle synth graced your ears, opening with a gentle melody before a guitar followed the same rhythm before chugging to life with slow riffs. It was gentle somehow still as the guitar started on a slowly moving rhythm along into the beginnings of a verse, sung by a vocalist you recognised as Durzub. The lyrics lilted about roses on a hill, growing in a graveyard around a forgotten tombstone before you grinned at the references to old vampire movies that the two of you enjoyed. The chorus was met with a litany of soft guitar and synth before a drum solo full of soft cymbal carried on. It was something made for the two of you, and you wondered just how long Durzub had spent making this song. Looking at the poorly hidden bags under his eyes, you figured it had been most nights after work.

 In the closing synth of the son, you laid your head against Durzub’s arm, against the tattoo of the roses around the gravestone. You pressed your lips to his skin gently before smiling and tugging the headphones down to around your neck, smiling up at the orc. Durzub copied the motion with another small smile, reaching to stroke at the top of your head

“That was beautiful. It’s hard to believe you made that just for me.” You whispered against his warm skin as the orc flushed with embarrassment, “Did you mean the part about making love on graves?” You teased gently before you slipped from your own chair, and into his lap, your fingers sliding up over the tattoos on his arms, tracing the thorns of the roses down before you traced the edge of the stem curling over his collar bone.

“Maybe not. Stone gives you a bad back.” He rumbled as his pupils went wide, watching your fingers as they slipped under the collar of his t-shirt, “But I would worship you just the same.” His hands moved from the computer to your hips, his fingers pressing into the meat of your backside before he leaned forwards to kiss you. You gladly accepted the advance, kissing the orc back, your tongue licking at his lips before you traced the rings around his tusks and wrapped your arms tighter around his neck.

 A soft moan escaped Durzub’s mouth as you pulled away. His lips were puffy and you leaned forwards to bite his lip, enjoying the second croak that escaped him as you leaned back on his thighs.

“What about this desk?” You asked under your breath.

Durzub grumbled, “There’s a lot of…” Your hand meeting his crotch shorted his brain for a moment, “I can make room.” He grumbled before he pushed the keyboard and monitor aside, leaving the desk free for you both. You laid back over the wood and grinned as you tugged on one of his tusks, forcing his face down so you could lay another kiss on his lips. Durzub moaned again as you reached up into his dark hair, tugging the braids at his scalp.

“Maybe you should make good on your song lyrics.” You purred as you kissed his cheeks and then bit at his neck before sucking a mark under his ear.

“Fuck.” Durzub hissed before he leaned over you, his fingers tugging at your clothes before he admired the collar around your neck and gave it a tug, “I hope you didn’t have any other plans.”

 Neither of you saw the audio recording button flashing red.

 ‘Everything was recorded. I’m keeping it. See you at the bar. x’

[acourtofthought]

Mates ARE Just as Romantic

The more I think about the argument that it would be more romantic if a couple were to choose one another outside of having a bond with someone else, the more I confuse myself turning it over in my head. So let me know if this makes any sense:

(But first, taking a quick detour:

I do understand that mates are supposed to be rare however, I think a possible argument to why we're seeing so many in this series (in Rhys's words) is that the bond might be meant to provide the strongest offspring. That doesn't mean that a couple needs to have children because each couple still has free will and that may not be the right path for everyone but.....the members of the IC and now the three sisters are some of the most powerful Fae in Prythian. If Fate were trying to set things up to create the most powerful offspring for whichever couples want to try for a biological child then giving a mate to all of the above makes sense. Taking one Fae with extreme power and having them mated to another Fae with extreme power = the best chance of nature providing powerful offspring. Please don't misunderstand me though. Even the ones who end up with their mate may still choose against having children. I'm only basing this off Rhys's attempt to explain the bond to Feyre.

Back to the choosing outside of the bond is more romantic debate:

Is it though? The bond draws these characters to one another, sure. But is Rhysand ONLY amazing because of the bond with Feyre? Is Cassian ONLY worth being in a relationship with because of the mating bond? Did Feyre choose Rhys, despite the fact that he's as attractive as a warthog with a terrible personality because she's so blinded by the bond that she just can't stay away? Did Nesta finally commit to Cassian regardless of him being a hideous ogre who eats small children only because she had no choice in the matter because of the bond?

Or............

Is Rhys drop dead gorgeous, fiercely loyal to his friends and people, and a morally gray match for Feyre herself? Isn't that romantic enough? The bond is an added bonus to it all but aren't they still perfect together?

Is Cassian not a perfect compliment to Nesta because he's got a warrior heart the same way she does but his soft edges sooth her rough ones? Is it less romantic that they finally got together because they are mates? Would it have been more romantic that they refused to give in because a bond existed despite their personalities being a wonderful fit?

Rhys is who he is, Feyre is who she is, Cassian is who he is, Nesta is who she is. They are all who they are because of their lives up this point. The bond is sort of a dating app in Prythian. "Hey, based on these factors, we think you should Swipe Right on this person." It's a way to bring people together. But the app (bond) isn't what makes the choice for them to move forward with a relationship. It's just as romantic if they decide to be together regardless of what brought them together in the first place.

Without bringing theories into this, going off the assumption that Lucien is in fact Elain's true mate and the strong hints that Azriel and Gwyn are mates, are we honestly going to say that neither Lucien and Az are really that great? That them having a bond with someone means that's the ONLY reason a female could feel something for them so it's less romantic if they end up together?

If Gwyn ends up with Azriel and they are mated, it's not romantic because it's the bond making Azriel attractive? It's the bond tricking her into thinking he's brave? It's the bond making him seem to have that dry sense of humor that only exists when she's around him and that no one else sees since they aren't mated to him?

If Elain and Lucien finally connect, is the bond tricking them into finding the other physically appealing? I'm pretty sure I've noticed that literally no other character seems to be able to stop themselves from commenting on how beautiful Elain is, how Lucien's hair shines like molten fire, how muscular and strong he is, how handsome even with his scar. I've also noticed that these same other characters have commented on how wise Elain is, how intelligent Lucien is, how alive they both seem when they're out in nature. None of these other characters have a bond with Elain or Lucien so they must both have some redeeming qualities. But for some reason, them noticing these same things about one another would be less meaningful because they have the addition of the bond.

I think the fact that SJM has never shown us a case of Insta-lust is the proof that it's not really about the Bond. If Feyre met Rhys and found herself so overcome with passion that they eloped that very evening then it could definitely be said that are only together because of the bond. But Feyre and Nesta both pursued other paths after meeting their mates. They found that did not make them happy, they got to know their significant others as individuals for quite awhile and decided they actually liked them for WHO they were, not WHAT they were.

There's no reason the same can't be said for other eventual mated pairs IF that's the direction SJM takes the story.

[our-lady-of-night-ravens]

The Bane of Our Family: Father

Inspired by @tri3tri’s S/W au along with a submission from @scorpiris-sideralis

There will be more for me to say at the end of the story.

~

In the Valley of Thorns, lived a princess who was born with the blood of both humans and fae. The crown princess of the Valley, under the tutelage of her father, the king, and the brightest scholars of the kingdom grew up to be an intelligent and cunning princess who was skilled in controlling her fae magic and was brought up to be a great Queen.

However, she knew that there were notable issues within the castle, starting with her family. Her father, who treated her like a national treasure, was possessive over her sweet and loving mother. The reason for that was simple. She didn’t love Father, at least not in the way father wanted her too. And so, Mother was forced to marry her father at a young age, even though most of his advisors were against the idea of father marrying a magic-less human. That reason alone was why many of her father’s advisors would look at her with scorn and disdain, no matter what she accomplished.

She cared deeply about her mother and treasured the unconditional love that she gave her and her younger sister from infancy. That was why for her sake, she would ascend to the throne and find a way to help her mother return to her true home. The princess spent years planning every decision out, gaining the favor of young nobles, winning over some of the members of her father’s court, and earning the love of the public.

However it was all torn apart when her father announced that he would be marrying another woman, a lady of a noble pureblood fae family, in hopes of giving birth to a son, and once she did, that child would be the next heir. He had denounced her as his heir, all that work, everything she did, it was apparently for naught. 

Then again she can’t be too surprised, her father’s advisors had been badgering him to take on a second wife of pure fae origin so he could have an heir of pureblood. 

Pureblood.

That was something about the Princess she couldn’t change about herself. She could study every book in the royal library and become the kingdom’s most brilliant scholar, she could take up the way of the blade and become the greatest swordsman in the Valley, she could even practice her magic and refine it to perfection that rivals even her father’s, but she could never change her blood. It was something that was always mentioned among the advisors like it was a blatant flaw of hers. Like it made it her inferior to all of them, despite having the Witch of Thorns’ blood running through her veins.

It simply wasn’t right, Mother, human though she may be, was the queen of the Valley of Thorns, had the proper authority to act upon her whims and punish everyone if she wasn’t so compassionate. It was disrespectful to see the court and the servants look at her and her mother with contempt despite all they’ve done for the kingdom. 

She had to listen to Sebek criticize her mother all the time, no matter how well she did her job as Queen because of her human origins. It was disrespectful for a fae who was no more than a guard to berate his queen for doing her duty. It was frustrating seeing her mother have no choice but to grow used to the hurtful comments around her no matter what she did and watching her father do nothing to prevent them.

When she confronted her father in his office, all he did was brush her off, like she was dust on his shoulder.

~ 

“Father I don’t understand why you would give in to your court’s whims.”

“This isn’t your business, I suggest that some of your studies be dropped as you are no longer heir.”

“But father, you would always say that you needn’t have to remarry because you would always have mother and my sister and me. Why did you suddenly change your mind now?”

“That is none of your concern, the Valley needs a proper heir and your mother simply hasn’t become pregnant in these past few years.”

“A proper heir? Have my actions not shown that I’m capable of being Queen? Or is it that… you’re ashamed of my human blood, ashamed of me and mother?”

His back grew rigid, “Daughter, I would watch your words in front of me.”

“I refuse, I need a proper answer from you father. Would you have preferred that mother was born fae? Did you not, when I was younger, say that you loved everything about mother, or was just that simply just a lie?”

“Young Lady…”

“I’m right, aren’t I? You don’t love mother, do you? You just think of her as a fun toy that you grew tired of don’t you? You certainly don’t care that she’s constantly harassed by the castle’s employees, from the court to Sebek even the maids go about berating her for her human blood. But I’ve never seen you once attempt to stop them.”

Her father’s ears were turning red from contempt and his eyes were glowering at her but she stood her ground.

“Or is that your plan? You stole her from her home, forced her into marriage, forced her to have your children only to abandon her in a way of breaking her down until she’s desperate for care and affection from you. Is this all just a part of your sick and twisted attempt of getting her to love you?”

*SLAP*

A red mark bloomed on the princess’s face, her father standing before her, hand raised. He had slapped her. She raised her hand to the mark on her face with wide eyes. In the past, she never would have believed that her doting father would even harm a hair on her head, let alone slap her across the face. It hurt, even though she knew what he put her mother through, he was still her father and she always wanted to appease him and make him proud. 

“That’s enough out of you, it seems you’ve grown as insufferably stubborn as your mother. Silver. Sebek. Escort the princess back to her room.” His guards, who were waiting outside, entered his office. 

Silver was the first to approach her, “Princess please follow me.” But she pulled herself away from him.

“I’m not leaving until I ask one last thing to my father, Silver.” 

Malleus sighed before answering, “And pray tell would that be, daughter?” 

She stood up straight and looked him straight in the eyes, “I know you father, I know that for years you’ve done all you can think of to get mother to love you, to have the family you desired. But I ask you if this is truly what you want to do. Do you truly mean to set Mother aside in favor of another and to have another on the throne?” 

He faltered for a moment before standing straight and tall, towering over his daughter, “Yes, and nothing is going to change my decision.”

She should’ve known. Mother always did say that father lied often. Like how he lied that he loved mother with all his heart. Or how he promised that she would be able to lead the Valley of Thorns proudly as Queen one day.

She lowered her eyes in a moment of sadness before glaring up at him in a split second before returning to a neutral face, “If that is your will,” She curtsied, “I hope you’re happy with your decision because there’s no going back. May your reign be long and prosperous, Your Majesty.” She made a quick turn before leaving, head facing forward, hands to her waist and her back straight, an exit filled with formal grace. 

On her way to her room, she began to get lost in her thought. Lilia was on his way to see his majesty when he spotted the young first princess walking almost aimlessly. So he called out to her.

“Princess.” Her attention was drawn to the voice calling out to her, she turned to face Lord Lilia, one of her father’s most trusted retainers. 

“Lord Lilia, I give my greetings.”

Now, now, princess, you needn’t have to greet this old one,” Lilia waved off her formality.

“Even if you are as you say, an ‘old one’, you are father’s most trustworthy retainer and have served the royal family since the time of my great grandmother, her majesty, The Witch of Thorns. To understate your prestige would be nothing less than rude. But that aside, did you need something of me, Lord Lilia?”

“Why yes, I was wondering how you were doing. I heard you were a touch shaken up after your father announced he would be remarrying and removing your title as heir.”

“I suppose I was shaken up however this matter is something that father has the final say in alone. If he wishes for that woman’s future child to be the next ruler, I have no choice but to set aside any opposition. I just came back from my father’s office and was planning on returning to my room.”

“I see but your highness, you just passed your bedroom door though,” she turned her head back to see the door to her bedroom just a few feet behind her.

“Oh! I didn’t realize… I must have been lost in my thoughts to notice, who knows where I could have ended up. Thank you for notifying me, Lord Lilia.” She turned around to enter her bedroom before remembering something, “Actually Lord Lilia,” The old fae’s ears perked before turning to her, “ I was wondering if you were on your way to see father… I meant to give him some policy proposals regarding the dispute regarding the villages along our border but it must have slipped my mind.”

The old fae smiled, “Actually, I, as a matter of a fact, was indeed on my way to see his majesty, I can deliver it on my way princess.” She smiled before entering her room and coming out with a small stack of papers in hand. 

“The first half of the pages consist of a set plan with can act towards for long term and my argument for the plan while the remaining half includes smaller short term solutions that should appease the residents for the time being along with the territory’s lord too.” 

Lilia’s face was a tad surprised, though the princess was a young adult to human standards, she was like a baby when compared to the average lifespan of a fae, and yet she comes up with intuitive solutions that most conservative fae would never think of in centuries but then again, look at who her mother is. The first female student of NRC and the young lady who stopped overblot after overblot in her first year alone, “You know to be quite honest your highness, whether or not you become Queen, I’m genuinely curious about what you’ll do for this country.”

“I appreciate the sentiment Lord Lilia but I’m afraid I might not be able to do as much anymore with my title as heir taken from me,” A saddened smile, present on her face. It pained Lilia to see the bright princess he knew with dreams as high as the sky so diminished, “Right now, looking after my mother and sister are what matters to me right now. Now if you excuse I’ll just return to my room.”

“Of course your highness. I’ll be off then.” Lilia left the princess to her own devices before setting off to his original course towards his majesty’s office.

~

Meanwhile, the princess closed her door before sitting in front of her vanity mirror. “Whew that was too close, I almost got excited in front of Lilia. My whole plan would have been ruined if that had happened.” A smile creeping on her face, “Though I can help but wonder what kind of expression father will have on his face when he sees my policy proposal... regret, annoyance, sadness? Oh, the possibilities.”

Father’s decision will surely backfire on him. She knows her father, to her, it would only be a matter of time before Father realizes that he regrets his decision. Father would never give up on Mother so easily, and the look on his face. He barely showed it but he must not have been aware of how she was harassed by the servants. 

No doubt he’ll investigate it further and when he does, he’ll find out the mastermind in no time. After all, if she could do it in less than a week with few resources then he should figure it out in a few days at most. He’ll realize just how untrustworthy the court is and eventually, father will have to admit his mistake and reappoint her. 

But until then...Let’s have Father suffer just for a little bit.

She looked at the small frame image of her mother and younger sister, ‘Perhaps I should arrange a tea party for mother and sister in the meantime. I can’t wait to tell them what I have planned.’ Her eyes begin to glow brightly.

The princess looked back at her reflection in her mirror, her green eyes, long black hair, and prominent horns made her a near spitting image of her father. If it weren’t for her facial structure, you wouldn’t see any of the queen’s genetics at all. ‘Oh, I’m sure mother will be excited to have father be away from her after so long. She has been going on about how she just wants some alone time.'

She thinks about how her father’s future second wife. From what she’s heard, the future second queen is a bit of an attention hog so she’ll surely demand father all of his free time. She wonders how long it’ll take before the court realizes their blunder about how the second queen is hardly active anyway outside of gossip tea parties and luxurious ballrooms. Meanwhile, her mother was never one who enjoyed being lavished in luxuries, much to her father’s dismay and worked hard in aiding this nation as a competent figure.

The princess couldn’t wait for the look of frustration on father’s and his retainers’ faces when dealing with this spoiled noble lady and how that woman will look whence realizes that she won’t be getting her happily ever after. Oh, the performance she’ll be able to watch alongside her sister and mother.

“How amusing this show will be...”

~ For Malleus and MC’s eldest daughter, I portrayed her as a cunning woman who cares about her mother deeply and will do what she can to ensure her mother’s happiness. Even if that means making her father miserable in the process.

Also I’m making a part 2 for this as well so expect that to coming soon.

[juusworld5728]

Azriel’s Plot In Future Books:

Why it won’t and definitely shouldn’t be the Illyrian Conflict

This post will solely be focusing on what his role should not be.

Plot:

We will first start out with the issues that are plot-based...

Rhysand has mentioned several times that he has been dealing with Illyrian conflicts for centuries. Serious issues like wing-clipping carry difficulties to be able to completely change. Rhys banned it hundreds of years ago, and it is still being done. Rhys has also mentioned that he can’t make certain laws since it would threaten the lives of the Illyrian females. In any case, he also says that the problems (that have been going on for thousands of years), cannot be solved in a short amount of time. Things like this take hundreds of years, not a single book. 

If you think it about it rationally, this isn’t just a region of the Night Court. This is a place with its own people, its own customs, and its own culture. Yes, it is a region that has some horrible and outdated customs that need fixing. However, this cannot be fixed in a single book as its own subplot (since there’s also other plots involved). I honestly think these issues might be passed on to the Inner Circle’s children with slow progress being made already.

Character:

Now, moving on to the important part of this post. Take into account everything I have mentioned above while you’re reading this...

Let me just outright say that bringing in Azriel to “fix” Illyria would be majorly harmful to him as a character and really confusing. Definitely not in a good way, where it hurts but it pays off in the end and everybody lives HEA. NO NO NO, I am talking about pain that makes no sense to bring in additionally. Do we seem to forget where his trauma came from? Trauma that he is clearly not over, which I have no doubt will be healing in the next book.

Facing your trauma does not mean that your arc has to revolve around fixing the very people that broke you. Before anyone goes straight to bash me in the comments, yes I am very aware that there are several issues in Illyria that have nothing to do with what happened to Azriel. I am also very aware that many Illyrians are victims, just like Azriel was.

I want to mention that we don’t know the extent of his abuse and I have no doubt that we will find out when we get his POV. 

My question is, why do you want Azriel to mend this conflict that will continue to go on for centuries to come? Would that really be facing trauma head-on? 

Why do you want Azriel to not hate Illyria? After all of what he has gone through, anyone would hate it too. 

Do we not think that Azriel is aware that there are victims? Of course he does and he does not blame them. What he is blaming is the culture that surrounds the very same people that tortured him for 11 years. We can even get vague details about the abuse inflicted on his mother, which is a part of Illyria’s views on certain issues.

He does love certain aspects of his culture, especially the one thing that he was deprived of during his torture...flying

That’s very telling. Azriel craves the very things that he was deprived of in that cell, so why backtrack? The parallels are there. I have no doubt we will see him come out a bit more in the next book. I mean, all of this goes back to the first 11 years of his life, which was his childhood.

They wouldn’t let him fly--->His main struggle at camp 

His scarred hands from his brothers---> the most vulnerable part of him.

Him being in the dark---> possibly needing to come into the light.

I would say that the last two issues he has yet to overcome. Why force Azriel into a (impossible) situation before he has even overcome his abuse? and in the hands of Illyrian people that were supposed to be his family?

Roles:

A huge part of this is also the roles that the Inner Circle members play in the court. Azriel is the Spymaster of the Night Court. His job is mainly, well, to spy. We have heard of him traveling to different places and creating documents to sort out and hand over to Rhys. My point is, what is a spymaster doing in Illyria? It’s not even about him never wanting to be there, but his job is not based on sticking to one place. This bat boy travels to different places and gathers information. I do not see how that would fit in. There are other fae that fit the role WAY better than Azriel. I do not think that this conflict will play a main role in the last 2 books. It could be underyling and maybe lead into future generation books...but either way...

-Cassian is the General that works with armies and the Illyrians plently (he’s also been helping out with female Illyrian training)

-Rhysand is the High Lord that creates laws and has superior power over the Night Court (he has mentioned that change comes with time but he has attempted to put a stop to wing clipping)

-Emerie is an Illyrian female who is also the first Illyrian female Carynthian. She has great potential to jumpstart more change to Illyria.

So.....why the spymaster that got tortured?

Conclusion: Azriel has to face the cell he was kept in and the demons that surfaced in those first years of his life will need to be unburdened. I have no doubt that he will share them and bare his heart for a certain someone to see.

[gwynrielendgame]

Nyx and Tamlin’s daughter part 2

Again no one really read the first part, but I don’t care! I have been inspired to write again, so I am just going with the flow. Also, I read somewhere that instead of describing accents you should just write how the accent sounds when the character speaks, but idk. If you think it’s annoying comment and I might change it for the other parts I’ve written.

"I apologize for my parents. They mean well, but I think my mother secretly still harbors negative feelings for your father."

Nyx felt it was necessary to apologize for his parents behavior. They have been less than diplomatic tonight and it must have been because of their pasts with Tamlin. Nevertheless, they invited Tamlin here tonight for peace and instead, offered spiteful exchanges. He glanced at Isa from the corner of his eye as they strolled down the garden path. It was beautiful especially at night. His aunt Elain tended to it often which made the flowers more beautiful than any other garden he had seen. He liked looking at her. Not necessarily for her beauty, although he could say with confidence that she was beautiful. She was not beautiful in the way that Elain or Mor were, but in the way that someone obviously powerful was. It was more about her essence. Everything about her was enticingly unique.

"That is strange, is it not?" She quirked a single eyebrow at him with a smirk lifting the edge of her mouth. He placed his hands in his pockets to avoid awkwardly fidgeting in the way his mother often did.

"What is strange?"

"That your mother left him for another man who zhe iz happily married to with three children, yet zhe haz ill will for him? Zeemz a bit backward, no?"

Nyx gave her a strange look. She had been hiding how heavy her accent truly was at dinner. Perhaps she had dropped her guard now that they were alone or perhaps she was tired of hiding it. Either way Nyx liked listening to it.

"Tamlin was awful to my mother when they were together. She's allowed to feel angry at him."

"Zo the story goez."

Isa stopped to pluck a particularly beautiful rose. Nyx took it from her hands gently. Only to stick it behind her ear. She gave him a small smile before they continued on their walk.

"How have I never heard of you?" Nyx asked the question that had been burning at the back of his mind since Tamlin introduced her. "You must be Pyrinthian's best kept secret."

Again, she sent him a small secretive smile while twirling down the path. Her dress made large swooping motions around her body as she seemed to dance to a song only found in her head.

"It iz tradition that young witchez are raised in their coven, completely izolated from other fae. It iz dangerous for young witchlings when their powers are not yet controlled. 'Unnatural' magic as your kin like to call it, does not lizten to the influence of the witch when their mind iz not strong."

"What can happen?"

"There are stories of young children killing their peers on accident when trying to show off."

"Is that why Fae fear your kind? Because it is unpredictable?"

"All witch magic has a price. The spirits aid us when we call onto them and they seek a price. There iz a method to the price but it iz subject to change depending on the spirit that answers. Your father was not wrong when he said blood magic brings chaos. The reason blood magic iz so feared iz because it can attract all zorts of evil spirits and monsters, which can be part of the appeal." She chuckled as she said this and shook her head. "How many times have your parents required the azzistance from a monster?"

"More than I would like to admit."

"Despite that, not all witch magic iz blood magic. Your father's ignorance iz thinking they are one in the same." Isa took a seat at one of the benches and Nyx followed suit. He sat a bit closer than newly acquainted fae should, but he hardly cared.

"So you were raised amongst your kind? Did you get to see your father much?" Nyx was curious about this secretive female. He wanted to know everything there was to know about her.

"He caused havoc and mayhem in order to zee me. They refused until my first shape shift when I was two and they realized they did not know how to help that. My mother had been zecretly sneaking me to see him before then though."

"Fascinating."

"How do you know zo much about witches?" She asked while pushing her short hair behind her ear. Nyx reached out and clasped her hand in his. He started to trace a small tattoo on the outside of her pointer finger.

"Honestly? I do not know much. A few of them have given some information over idle pillow talk though." He admitted with a shrug.

"Charming. Speak of your past conquests to your new one." She said it with a wide smile, so Nyx was not concerned that he had actually upset her.

"I would not call you my new conquest." He gave her a cheeky smile that she shook her head to with a chuckle.

"No? Zo you escort me out here to win my heart or from the goodness of your own?"

"Perhaps I escort you out here as a gentleman."

"That iz not what your reputation would suggest." She lifted her eyebrows at him.

"I have a reputation?" Nyx was wholly unaware of any reputation that might precede him unless it had something to do with his parents. Isa pulled her hand back into her own lap.

"Nyx, prince of the night court, zon of Feyre 'cursebreaker' Archeron, high lady of the night court and Rhyzand high lord of the night court. Intelligent and agile. Mediocre combat training, excellent spy potential, enjoys the attention of any and all females, and zuccezzfully gains the attention with uave charm and dashing good looks."

"You definitely did your research." He leaned back on the bench and crossed his arms over his chest as she leaned in a bit more.

"Believe it or not, those words were straight from Lucien before we winnowed here." She mock whispered.

"That seems a bit unfair. He gave me no information on you. I'd also argue I am much better than mediocre at hand-to-hand combat." Nyx felt a bit miffed that he had been described as mediocre at anything, but begrudgingly he knew Lucien was right.

"Be careful, I might be tempted to challenge you." She gave a wickedly mischievous smile before turning her head up to look at the stars. She plucked the rose from behind her ear and began twirling it between her fingers.

"What would we be wagering for?"

"The title of best fighter. Might give our parents zomething to boast about." She continued to look at the sky instead of him.

"Hmm. Not appealing enough. Perhaps for a kiss though?" He jested. Although, he imagined a kiss from her would be amazing.

"I zuppose. If you think winning a kizz will be easier than charming one from me, then you have severely misjudged me."

"Oh I know," he sent a wide, goofy smile her way. "I would need you to kiss the pain away after you kick my ass."

"Relentlezz." A genuine smile finally lit her face up. It made her even more beautiful.

"You are a mind reader, right? Can you tell me what I am thinking of?" She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and rubbed her temples with her pointer and middle fingers. It was the epitome of concentration but it only caused him to laugh and shake his head.

"You mean my daemati powers?" He attempted to infiltrate her mind only to be met with steel mind barriers. He did not think his father would even be able to get past those.

"Daemati?" She drug out the word as if she was testing how it sounded on her lips. "How does it work?"

"For some people, I can slip into their mind and hear their thoughts and experience their memories. Your mind, however," he poked her forehead right between her eyebrows. "Is too guarded. I supposed I will have to get to know you the old fashioned way."

She pushed her bottom lip out in a pout.

"That iz not fun." He laughed loudly at her expression. She seemed truly gutted that he could not read her mind. It was such an opposite reaction to how most people felt of the ability. It seemed like the deepest of privacy invasions to most. It was why he tried to limit using it as much as possible.

"Sorry to disappoint."

"Mediocre damn-ti can be added to your list." She stood up and placed the rose that was in her lap behind Nyx’s ear. He laughed but left it there anyhow. They started back towards the house.

"Daemati. And I would say my inability to infiltrate your mind speaks more to the strength of your power than a lack of mine."

She sent him a mischievous smile before grabbing his hand and twirling herself under his arm as she hummed a tune. She amused him with her peculiar behavior.

"Are you nervous to be High lady some day?" He figured she of all people would understand the anxiety he has been feeling lately to fill his parents footsteps. What if he messed up? What if he failed?

"Have not thought of it much."

"Truly?" She gave a simple nod before responding.

"I worry more about my father's death than the power I would have after it. He iz all I have left."

"I always imagined my parents voluntarily stepping down to give me the title. They seem so invincible. Perhaps that is the child in me." He did not like to imagine their deaths, but even so at least he would have a plethora of help. He had so many mentors that could show him the way. He felt bad that Isa only had Tamlin. Lucien too, probably.

"It iz sweet that you feel that way. I have zeen too much to believe that anyone is invincible."

"I just worry that I will fail. Or that I won't live up to their standards." Nyx had many a nightmares about this specific situation.

"That iz a lot of prezzure considering you are not yet High Lord." She bumped his shoulder with hers. He stumbled a step from surprise, but bumped her back.

"I will be one day though."

"What if one of you zisters get the throne instead of you? And then you wasted all dis time for nothing."

"Neither want it. Even if the power transfers to them, they have both said they will leave the title to me."

"You will probably fail and ruin your parents hard work." She said in a serious tone with a grave look on her face.

"Thanks." He deadpanned.

"But you will have me as an ally, no? And I will be ready dig you out of whatever hole you have dug. I am quite wise and known for my generosity." He could sense a hint of sarcasm with her last sentence, but felt honored that she was so freely giving her support anyways.

"Be careful, you might be underestimating how much trouble I could get us into."

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Do you know any good movie aus? Not as in they're actors, but fics written based on movie plots?

Hey Nonny!!

OHHHH! This is fantastic! Because I actually have ANOTHER ask looking for crossovers too, and the list is HUGE. So I’ve used this opportunity to split the list up into two. This one here is for my MFL list, and if anyone has any of their own to suggest, please add them to this list! 

So, check out Below!

CROSSOVERS and FUSIONS (Feb 2021) Pt. 1.5 [FICS TO READ]

See Also:

Fairy Tales and Fantasy

TV, Movies, and Books AU (Fantasy Pt. 2)

Wonderful Life AU

Sherlock / Hannibal Crossovers?

Science Fiction / Fantasy

Faes / Faeries

Disney-esque Fics

Moulin Rouge AU

Crossovers and Fusions Pt 1

Two More Miracles by PatPrecieux (T, 221 w., 1 Ch. || Good Omens Crossover || Angst With Happy Ending, 221B Ficlet, Temporary Character Death) – Tragedy and miracles go hand in hand.

Here, Though the World Explode, These Two Survive by TheTyger (G, 1,194 w., 2 Ch. || Good Omens Crossover || Post-TRF, Ineffable Husbands, Fluff, Reunion, Rings, Hurt/Comfort) – Tomorrow, it would be three years from that day. Three years with no rude text messages, no experiments being conducted while London slept, no body parts in the fridge. And John still sometimes caught himself buying extra milk and looking for cases and making two coffees.

Just the Book by Carenejeans (G, 1,495 w., 1 Ch. || Good Omens Crossover || Humour, Aziraphale’s Bookshop) – John's looking for a book. It's Aziraphale's bookshop, but Crowley provides customer service.

The Case of the Missing.... by Beth H (G, 2,601 w., 1 Ch. || Sherlock Crossover || Case Fic) – Crowley has gone missing, and Aziraphale hasn't a clue how to go about finding him. Luckily, help comes from above...or rather, from the side.

The Curious Case of the Missing Antichrist by Aedemiel (G, 2,865 w., 1 Ch. || Sherlock Crossover || Vignette, Case Fic, Desperation, Bad Ideas) – What if Aziraphale and Crowley had consulted the great consulting detective, Sherlock Holmes, about finding Adam Young?

Eye of the Storm by Calais_Reno (G, 2,996 w., 1 Ch. || The Day After Tomorrow AU || Survival, Cold Weather, Boy Scout John, No Major Character Death) – Weather has become the fifth horseman of the apocalypse.

Nice and Accurate Deductions by htebazytook (T, 3,179 w., 1 Ch. || Good Omens Crossover || Romance, Humour, Fluff) – Sherlock drags John to a certain bookshop in Soho.

Snake In The Flat by PatPrecieux (T, 3,293 w., 1 Ch. || Good Omens Crossover || Magical Realism, Fluff, Humour, Ineffable Husbands) – There can be a snake in the grass, snakes on a plane and now there's a snake in the flat.

The Picture of Sherlock Holmes by CarmillaCarmine (M, 3,306 w., 1 Ch. || Victorian Dorian Gray AU || Angst, Paris, London, Travel, Painting, Major Character Death, Opera, Captain John, First Meetings) – Sherlock Holmes, a rich and frivolous man, after a lifetime of debauchery finally falls in love. His heart chooses Captain Watson.

The Old Town by a_different_equation (T, 3,573 w., 1 Ch. || Hans Christian Anderson Fusion || Magical Realism, Christmas, Fairy Tale Elements, Love Stories, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Museums, Sweet Sherlock) – Once upon a time there were two boys. This is the story how once upon December, they found the missing Christmas Spirit, true love and new beginnings. A Queer fairytale for all seasons.

Holmes vs. Harkness by coinin (T, 3,960 w., 1 Ch. || Torchwood / HHGTTG Fusion || Crack, Mystrade) – In which Captain Jack gets in a little over his head and is introduced to the myriad joys of bureaucracy, Mycroft is smug, the Guide offers up some helpful advice, John Watson doesn't share, and, in a strange turn of events, Jack doesn't get laid even once.

Perfect by TrufflesTheMushroom (T, 3,984 w., 1 Ch. || Good Omens Crossover || The Apocalypse) – Crowley and Aziraphale have made a huge mistake. It's the end of the world and it all boils down to one fight. Crowley has picked John Watson. Aziraphale has picked Sherlock Holmes.

Limbo by Calais_Reno (T, 4,070 w., 1 Ch. || Good Omens Crossover || Waiting Rooms, Ineffable Bureaucracy, Paperwork, Explosions, Apocalypse, Second Chances, Declarations of Love, Nobody Dies) – Ordinarily Sherlock would be quite impatient by now with all this pointless waiting (for what?), but at the moment he feels as if he has all the time in the world.

The Baker Street Flat by Anonymous (PG-13, 5,000-20,000 w., 7 Parts || Lake House Crossover || Angst, Romance, LIVEJOURNAL Comments Fic) – John’s pretty sure it’s a sign of mental imbalance — of which he has been all too frequently accused of late — that he is actually entertaining the possibility that he is communicating with a total stranger two years in the future via the magic mail slot on the door of his new flat. He certainly won’t be mentioning this at next week’s session. On his way out the door to interview for a part-time position at a local surgery, another meeting where he has no intention of mentioning his most recent hobby, he drops a fairly sarcastic note: If you’re really from 2012, is the world about to end?

In the Shadows by Laur (M, 5,029 w., 1 Ch. || Loose Shutter Island Fusion || Disturbing Imagery, Psychological, Angst, Major Character Death, Grief/Trauma) – Do you believe in ghosts? When Sherlock’s eyes snap to him they are anguished.

come be my april fool by a_different_equation (M, 6,473 w., 1 Ch. || Great British Bake Off AU || Writer!Sherlock, Est. Rel., Fluff / Humour, Baking, Marriage Proposal, Military Kink, Domestics, POV John, Romance, Sherlock Wears Glasses, Sweet Sherlock, Bookstores, Queer Themes) – After leaving ‘The Great British Bake Off’, Sue Perkins has written a book about Victorian baking. Tonight, on April 1st, she is reading at ‘The Bard’, Mike Stamford’s bookstore in central London. It is the exact same spot where John Watson, battered and bruised, had learned all about his magnificent bastard – one Mr. Sherlock Holmes, famous gay crime fiction writer – for the first time. A story about found family, DRAMAtical lesbians, how to react when your boyfriend has a military kink but he doesn't want to act on it, oh, and popping the question. Sequel to 'i read your book, you magnificent bastard'. Part 2 of Magnificent Bastard!AU

The Babadook by CatieBrie (T, 6,886 w., 1 Ch. || Babadook Fusion || Post-TRF, Horror, Demonic Possession, Violence, Halloween, Grief, Angst with Happy Ending) – “A children’s book,” John mutters as he flips it open. The pages are scrawled with beautiful charcoal lines and thick black ink. The cover, bright red, edges the open pages and something tugs at the back of John’s brain. It’s a familiar feeling, black and tarrish and thick in his thoughts. He shakes it off and picks the book up off his bed, turning so that he can sit on the edge and spread the book out across his knees. If it’s in a word or it’s in a look, you can’t get rid of the Babadook. He turns the page, ignoring the pressure building beneath his chest. There’s a closet on one page; paper doors meant to be opened by the reader flutter as John reads the text on the other page.

What To Do With An Atypical Animal Within by HarveyDangerfield  & swimsalot (E, 7,804 w. || Harry Potter AU || Animagus, Porn With A Little Plot, Tail Porn) – Sherlock is determined to be an animagus. But what happens when it isn't a fox or a horse or a dog he's turning into?

The Lonely by elwinglyre (E, 7,888 w., 1 Ch. || Twilight Zone AU || Major Character Death, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Firsts, Sad Ending) – Witness if you will a distant planet with a dungeon made of desert sand and mountain stone. This planet holds one inmate, a man wrongly accused, serving a life sentence. His only solace, his notebook and the thought of the day when the supply ship brings him a pardon. Instead, salvation comes to John Watson in a large box and a visitor from The Twilight Zone.

Friend by esama (G, 7,909 w., 1 Ch. || Harry Potter Crossover || Character Death, Kid Fic) – Sherlock finds the skull when he's five.

Spell It Out by prettysailorsoldier (M, 8,344 w., 1 Ch. || Harry Potter Fusion || Teenlock, Christmas, Love Potion/Spell, Pining Sherlock) – Remaining at Hogwarts over break has become something of a tradition for Sherlock and John, staying behind together ever since their very first year, but, when Irene throws a gift of doctored coconut ice into the mix, plans quickly change, even if John doesn't. Part 6 of 25 Days of Johnlock

The Long Goodbye by elbereth (M, 8,367 w., 1 Ch. || Time Traveller’s Wife AU || Doomed Timelines, Time Travel) – Sherlock travels in time. The ending is known even before they meet, yet they choose to live this love. One of them knows the past, one of them knows the future, yet their deepest secret is safe from each other. Limited time, but unlimited love.

Sugar & Spice by Ttime42 (T, 8,476 w., 1 Ch. || Great British Bake Off AU || First Kiss, Baking) – Sherlock Holmes and John Watson compete on The Great British Bake Off.

Pygmalion by ancientreader (T, 9,136 w., 2, Ch. || Pygmalion AU || Magical Realism) – The spell to turn a statue into an animate being has been illegal in the UK for a hundred and seventy years when the -- body? -- is found on Hampstead Heath. It changes everything.

Am I the Current (Tiger) King of England? by Dee_Laundry (T, 9,360 w., 1 Ch. || Tiger King Fusion || Post-S4, Dreams, Friendship, John’s Sexuality, Sherlock’s Sexuality, Quarantine/CoVID-19, Past Character Death, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Dom/Sub, First Kiss) – “I had the weirdest dream last night,” John said. Seven times.

I Could Try by Arcwin (T, 9,583 w., 5 Ch. || Greek Mythology Crossover || Post-TRF, Orpheus and Eurydice Myth, POV John, Pining John, BAMF John, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Horror, Angst with Happy Ending) – John is grieving Sherlock's death post Reichenbach until one day, he sees the violin case, and something inside him tells him to pick it up. Crossover between BBC Sherlock and the Greek tragedy Orpehus and Eurydice, wherein Eurydice is killed for her beauty and taken to the Underworld. Orpheus, being the son of Apollo (the God of Music and Medicine) travels to the Underworld to convince (via playing his lyre) Hades and Persephone to let Eurydice go. Orpheus then must travel with Eurydice behind him, not looking back, until they exit to the land of the living.

Puzzlebox by  standbygo (E, 9,867 w., 5 Ch. || Hellraiser Fusion || True Love, Supernatural Elements, Psychological Horror, First Kiss, Post S2, Angst with Happy Ending) – A love story with horror. A horror story with a happy ending.

you are a paradigm by 1electricpirate (M, 10,013 w. || Harry Potter AU || Wizard!John / Muggle!Sherlock, Magic) – Sometimes, only sometimes, when Sherlock is very far away and absolutely guaranteed not to return for at least three hours, John sits on the sofa and lets the tea make itself. In which John is (reluctantly) a wizard, Mycroft is (apparently) omniscient, and Sherlock is (surprisingly) oblivious. Part 1 of More Things Than Are Dreamt Of

Already Gone by johnwatso (M, 10,078 w., 8 Ch. || Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind Fusion || Non-Linear Narrative, Memory Loss, Ambiguous / Open Ending) – Dear Mr Greg Lestrade,  Sherlock Holmes has had John Watson erased from his memory. Please never mention their relationship to him again. Thank you, Lacuna Inc.

A Real Deal by toyhto (M, 10,339 w., 1 Ch. || Black Mirror-Inspired ||  Science Fiction, Post-TRF, Canon Divergence) –  Please be real, he thought and pulled Sherlock closer.

You Don't Need Wings to Fly by Laiquilasse (T, 11,326 w., 11 Ch. || Wonderful Life AU || Bullying, Angels, Suicidal Ideation, Christmas) – John, an angel, is sent from Heaven to help a desperate Sherlock Holmes by showing him what life would have been like if he had never existed.

Backup Copies by etothepii (M, 13,332 w., 3 Ch. || Dollhouse Crossover || Major Character Death) – When John dies, Sherlock doesn't know what to do. But Mycroft does.

Silent Night by khorazir (M, 15,060 w., 1 Ch. || Codebreaker / WWII / Imitation Game-Inspired AU || Care Fic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Dev. Rel., Reunion, PTSD John, Christmas) – It’s Christmas Eve 1944, and Sherlock Holmes has received his most precious gift already: after a long, dangerous deployment, Surgeon Captain John Watson of the Royal Navy has unexpectedly returned from the front. As if this weren’t enough, there’s a case. Both events make for a night full of promise, excitement, and the difficult task of getting reacquainted with the man Sherlock hasn’t seen in three years and feared he’d lost forever. Part 2 of Enigma

In Arduis Fidelis by Raliena (T, 18,628 w., 10 Ch. || GI Joe Crossover || Captivity, Surgery, BAMF John, John “Three Continents” Watson, POV John Watson, Prisoner of War, Cobra - Freeform, soldier John, John-centric, Doctor John Watson, John is a Very Good Doctor, Violence) – Once upon a time John was a Soldier and a Doctor. And he was known John or Doc or Doctor. But things change. And he *earned* his right to the name “Three Continents Watson”. Part 1 of the Three Continents Watson series

Serendipity by Calais_Reno (T, 18,222 w., 3 Ch. || Serendipity Fusion || Christmas, Romance, Coincidences, First Meetings, Misunderstandings, New York City, Fate and Destiny) – A bit of New York Christmas fluff, based on the 2001 movie.

Magnificent by esama (T, 19,477 w., 1 Ch. || Harry Potter Crossover || Crossover Pairing) – The birth of the Ministry of Magic and his relationship with the British Government.

Much Ado About Nothing or Get Over Here and Kiss Me Already! by MorganeUK (NR, 19,847 w., 13 Ch. || Much Ado About Nothing AU || Mutual Pining, Angst, Lestrolly) – AU in modern time where the Holmes' are a powerful noble family, Mycroft is the chief of defences and Sherlock is working for secret service. Lestrade is a high rank officer in the army. Ms Hudson is an old Lady that took care of her niece and nephew Molly and John since their youth. Part 1 of the Sherlock / Shakespeare series

Dead Letter Office by a_different_equation (M, 20,364 w., 15 Ch. || ‘Bartleby’ Fusion / Office Setting AU || Different First Meeting, Epistolary, John's Blog, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pre-Canon, John Watson is Sherlock's Boss, PTSD John, Military Backstory, Writer John, Drug Use, Texting) – John Watson comes home from the war, gets a new job and meets Sherlock Holmes through Mike Stamford. Same tale since 1891, except this time it’s 2008, John is Sherlock’s boss, and they work together at the Dead Letter Office in London. It's not a love story, until it finally is.

When John Met Sherlock by MorganeUK (T, 21,293 w., 10 Ch. || When Harry Met Sally AU || Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Developing Relationship, Faking It, Mutual Pining, Background Lestrolly, Fluff and Smut, Rom-Com) – At first they thought that friendship was impossible. Then meet again and become friends. After dinners, texts, cases and discussions they become more, best friends. Faking orgasm before falling on the floor together to get real one... Then going back to pushing each other away again... Before falling in love!But not necessarily in this order.

You're The One by Mazarin221b (E, 21,768 + w. || WiP || Underage Dirty Dancing Fusion ||  Period Typical Homophobia, Sexism, Angst, Fluff) – John Watson is seventeen years old and has his life planned out: medical school, a commission, and an opportunity to change the world. He just has to get through three weeks at The Copper Beeches - a resort owned by one of his father's patients - with his annoying sister and his perfect parents before he's off to Cambridge. But John has a secret he's trying desperately to keep, and, it seems, so is just about everyone around him, including the incredibly gorgeous and amazing dance teacher, Sherlock Holmes, and his partner Irene Adler. Too bad Jim Moriarty seems to know precisely what everyone is hiding.

Into the Multiverse by AnAnYaH (M, 21,958 w., 18 Ch. || Avengers / Sherlock / Dr. Strange Crossover || Multiverses, Everstrange, Parentlock / Teenage Rosie, Sad Sherlock, Angry Sherlock, Sherlock/John Fight, Magic, Strange John, First Kiss, Whipping, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Threats of Rape / Non-Con, Mental Anguish, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst with Happy Ending) – Nothing lasts forever. I am beginning to think it's the same for you and me. In a world where we don't co-exist how long will it take to finally break us ? Or are we already broken in need of a fix ?A multi-chapter fic where Sherlock and John had to leave their lives to save the world from universal threats and pursue as Doctor Strange and Everett Ross.Will they ever reunite? Part 1 of the Everstrange series

Addicted to a Certain Lifestyle by KatsatheGraceling (M, 22,751 w., 1 Ch. || James Bond Crossover || Bondlock, BAMF John, Assassin John, Q is a Holmes, Clueless Sherlock, Omniscient Mycroft) – The one where John is a BAMF assassin. With an affinity for cuddly warm jumpers.

Impossible Improbable Truth by KaraRenee (M, 24,308 w., 9 Ch. || Labyrinth AU) – John and Sherlock take a case investigating the disappearance of a teenage girl and her toddler half brother. What they find is an impossible adventure that leads them on a journey of discovery of their sexuality.

The Art Of Seduction: A Study In Pulling by flawedamythyst (M, 25,279 w., 1 Ch. || Queer As Folk Inspired AU || John/OMC, Additional Tags to Be Added Upon Reading) – Sherlock ran a website called The Science Of Seduction, on which he gave advice on the best ways to get laid, wrote blog entries detailing the results of his various sexual 'experiments' and generally contributed to the stereotype of 'every gay man is a sex-mad playboy'. John avoided the thing like the plague. AU in which Sherlock treats sex like he does crime in canon. Inspired by Queer As Folk UK, but it very quickly went its own way. Part 1 of The Art Of Seduction

False Advertising by ravenscar (E, 27,722 w. || Office AU / Devil Wears Prada Inspired || Victor Trevor, Flashbacks, Hurt / Comfort, Angst with Happy Ending, Younger John/Older Sherlock, Marriage Proposal) – Sherlock is John’s boss and mentor at an advertising agency. Can they find love in the cut-throat workplace?

A Wizarding Barista's Field Guide to Seducing a Muggle by paradigmfinch (T, 29,344 w., 9 Ch || Harry Potter Coffee Shop AU || Wizard John, Muggle Sherlock, Bisexual John, Flirting, First Dates, Secret Identity) – To help pay for Healing tuition, John Watson gets a job at a coffee shop in Muggle London, where he soon sets his sights on a particularly gorgeous customer. John's seen plenty of Muggle films. How different can it really be to woo a Muggle?

Time Of My Life by fiveainley_ohmy (E, 29,719 w., 8 Ch. || Dirty Dancing Fusion || Bisexual John, Dancing, Gay/Demi Sherlock) – John Watson takes his alcoholic sister to a summer camp in attempt to rehabilitate her. He didn't expect to fall in love with the dance instructor.

Through Dangers Untold by hogwartswitch (E, 32,003 w., 13 Ch. || Labyrinth AU) – The Goblin King has fallen in love with John Watson and visits him in dreams. But the evil wizard who cursed the Goblin King cannot allow that to continue. Will John survive the labyrinth? Or will he become a lost goblin like all the rest?

Unsettled by AxeMeAboutAxinomancy (E, 33,879 w., 10 Ch. || HIs Dark Materials AU || Daemons, Dark Themes, Non-Con) – Sherlock's dæmon hadn't settled. Once John realised that, so much made sense. Though so much else didn't, because it practically wasn't possible. Part 1 of the The Utmost Edge of Hazard series

The Last Companion by standbygo (E, 34,101 w., 14 Ch. || Firefly Fusion || Prostitution, Case Fic, Falling in Love, Angst with Happy Ending, Slow Burn, BAMF John, Discussions of Non Con But Doesn’t Happen) – Thirty years after the Miranda Wars, there is peace, both on the Rim and the Core planets. There are a number of old social mores still in place, such as the Order of Companions, but there is a sense that even such respected practices are coming to an end… Sherlock is a Companion - the best Companion on Persephone. With a bit of detective work on the side, of course. Then he meets a man named John Watson, encounters a series of bizarre cases, and finds his world is getting turned upside down.

The Great Bakerstreet Bake Off by Elphen (M, 38,058 w., 8 Ch. || Great British Bake Off AU || Caring Sherlock, Sweet John, Fluff, Baking, Accidental Touching, Pining, BJ’s, Banter and Bickering, Oblivious Characters) – John has decided to watch The Great British Bake Off this year and he is determined to do so. As Sherlock joins him, he is certain that that plan is ruined. He's in for a surprise when he's allowed to watch it but the real shock comes when Sherlock decides they ought to bake themselves. What's more, they should bake what they make in the Bake Off. John's not so sure it's a good idea but when his insides flutter at the thought, he finds it hard to complain.

Toe to Toe by standbygo (E, 44,971 w., 26 Ch. || White Nights Crossover || Ballet/Dance, Slow Burn, Spies/Secret Agents, Angst with Happy Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Kiss/Time, Shower Sex) – Sherlock Holmes is an international ballet star. After a favour for his brother goes south, he finds himself trapped in a foreign country, with a man named John Watson who could be an enemy... or an ally.

Silence by halloa_what_is_this (T, 44,993 w., 13 Ch. || The Piano Fusion || Victorian Sherlock, Dub Con, Voyeurism, Permanent Mutilation, Johniarty, Mute John) – In 1850, John is a mute young man forced to marry to save his father from indebtedness. His sister as his interpreter and his piano to keep him company, he travels to London to live with his husband James Moriarty. Without John's consent, James sells the piano to his friend Sherlock Holmes, who only asks for lessons from John in return. The lessons turn into a power play between the two when Sherlock proposes a deal: John may earn his piano back one key at a time, certain conditions attached. Part 1 of the Aborted Wings series

Crime is of the Essence by K8BNimble (M, 45,569 w., 18 Ch. || Harry Potter Crossover || Mystery, Slash) – When a man he hasn’t seen in almost ten years appears in his home with a man he thought was dead for twenty years, Harry Potter knew his evening had just gotten complicated. Written for Snarry Swap 2011. Named Hot Rec by "The Daily Snitch"1/18/2011. Snarry, past Harry/Sherlock. Long plotty mystery with light graphic slash sex.

Always 1895 by standbygo (E, 45,901 w., 19 Ch. || Oxford Time Travel AU || Time Travel, Friends to Lovers, Case Fic, Victorian, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, First Kiss/Time, First Meetings, Slow Burn, Angst With Happy Ending) – Time travelling historian John Watson goes to Victorian era England to study, and meets detective Sherlock Holmes. He finds himself torn between the work he was sent to do, the exciting life of solving crimes, and the extraordinary Holmes himself.

Curled (A Tangled AU) by crimsonwinter (G, 46,330 w., 13 Ch. || Tangled AU || Alternating POV) – Sherlock lives a limited life, high in a tower, and all he's wanted in eighteen years of isolation is to someday break free and see the floating lights. Somehow, a string of events leads him to John Watson, a surprisingly kind thief who steals his heart. Will they escape the selfish advances of Moriarty, Sherlock's paternal guardian, and will Sherlock find the meaning behind the silver lanterns?

The Boy Who Balanced on the Train Tracks by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (E, 54,894 w., 5 Ch. || Harry Potter Crossover || John/Snape, Period Typical Homophobia, Character Death, Underage Sexual Attraction, Sexual Awakening, Time Turner, First Time, Poverty, Domestic Abuse, Death Eaters, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst with Happy / Bittersweet Ending) – Every year, on the 2nd of May, John Watson dreams of long black hair.

Say You’ll Stay With Me by justacookieofacumberbatch (E, 63,349 w., 21 Ch. || Pretty Woman Fusion || Prostitution) – It was just supposed to be an ordinary business trip, but when John’s car stalls out on Hollywood Boulevard, he meets someone who just might change his life.

Whispers in Corners by esama (T, 64,402 w., 10 Ch. || Harry Potter Crossover || Deathly Hallows, Crossover Pairing) – Everything started with a stumble - his new life in a new world as well as his surprisingly successful career as a medium.

Masters of Ink by Indybaggins (E, 67,382 w., 7 Ch. || Ink Master Tattoo TV Show AU || Angst, Banter, Body Modification, Cheating, Desire, Developing Relationship, Disability, Falling in Love, Feels, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Married John, Past Drug Addiction, Pining, Requited Love, Sex, Slow Burn, Smoking, Tattoo Artist John, Tattoo Artist Sherlock) – First-meeting-on-a-reality-show AU, Ink Master edition! There is expert tattooing, slightly less expert flirting, and two men falling hard. But John is married, and they can’t all win.

The Craving in Between by love_in_mind_palace (E, 69,349 w., 16 Ch. || Wedding Planner AU || Infidelity, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending, Misunderstandings, Sexting & Texting, Alternating POV, Mary is Not Nice) – Sherlock Holmes, The wedding Consultant. Picky about his projects and a nightmare to work with. Rejects ninety percent of the couples after just having a look at them and can predict how long a marriage will last. But when unassuming, plain, John Watson reluctantly limps his way in his office, with his more than enthusiastic fiancée, Mary Morstan, instead of dismissing the ill-assorted couple on the spot, he promptly decides that the project, and the groom.. are definitely worth working on.

The Loss of Flesh and Soul by deuxexmycroft (M, 69,712 w., 6/8 Ch. || WiP || Silence of the Lambs Crossover || Serial Killers, One-Sided Relationship) – Five years after John Watson puts the murderous Sherlock Holmes behind bars, a vicious copycat killer emerges. A reluctant John is pulled out of retirement to seek the expertise of the only man who can help, a man who has developed an unsettling obsession with John himself. Part 1 of The Loss of Flesh and Soul

The Vampires of London by consultingdetective (E, 72,660 w., 21 Ch. || Dracula AU || Pining Sherlock, Army Doctor John, Sharing a Bed, Porn With Feelings, Plot Twists) –  Over one hundred years after the first battle, a series of murders have caught the attention of London's police force and Sherlock Holmes. While most of the city has forgotten the vampire that once walked its streets, the descendants of the Van Helsing, Harker, and Seward families have not.

Save Me or Let Me Drown by GubraithianFire (E, 72,986 w., 16 Ch. || Shameless AU || Dysfunctional Family, Alcoholism, Recreational Drug Use, Angst, Humour, Clubbing, Bipolar Disorder, Custody Battle, Mutual Pining, Family Fluff, Smut, Handcuffs, Anal Sex, Shower Sex, Rimming, Come Shot, Angst With Happy Ending) – How Sherlock escaped from his family, John sacrificed everything to his, and how, together, they built their own. Part 1 of the The Watsons series

This Is Your Song by agirlsname (E, 79,990 w., 19 Ch. || Moulin Rouge Fusion || Prostitute Sherlock, Poet John, Acting, Singing, Dancing, Writing, Poetry, Musical, Song Fic, Heavy Angst, Unreliable Narrator, Sherlock is French, Love at First Sight, UST, First Kiss/Time, Frottage, Coming in Pants, Anal Sex, Switchlock, Clothed Sex, Crossdressing, Secret Relationship, Forbidden Love, Jealousy, Terminal Illnesses, Grief/Mourning, Breakup/Makeup Sex, Past Drug Use, Attempted Rape, Canon-Typical Violence)– When John Watson is invalided home from the army in 1895, he moves to Paris to rediscover his writing and find a new meaning in life. His old friend Stamford invites him into a group of artist friends, and suddenly John finds himself auditioning to write a show for the famous brothel across the street. There, he meets the most beautiful man he’s ever seen - Sherlock, the star of the Moulin Rouge. But Sherlock is already promised to the investor of the show, the rich Duke Moriarty.

Sherlock, P.I. by Callie4180 (E, 83,264 w., 11 Ch. || Magnum P.I. Fusion || Past Relationships, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Canon-Typical Violence, Stalking, Creepy Moriarty) – For the Fall TV Sherlock fusion project. Sherlock, P.I. is an American television show that follows the exciting adventures of genius private investigator Sherlock Homes and his friends as they live their lives on the beautiful island of Oahu in Hawaii. Sherlock solves crimes as he wrestles with the ghosts and demons of his past.

Saudade by tunteeton (E, 96,952 w., 30 Ch. || After That Very Much AU || Case Fic, Non-Con Drug Use, Dubious Science, Canon Compliant up to THoB, John’s in Denial, Sub!Sherlock, Fake Non-Con Drug Use, Dom/Sub Relationship, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Kidnapping, Threatened Torture, Mary is Not Nice, Anal, Fluff, Non-Con Domming, Verbal Abuse, Slapping) – saudade (port.): a deep and melancholy longing for something or someone that is gone and not coming back. Homesickness, an emptiness in one’s soul, a love that remains after the loved one dies. John loses Sherlock, gains Sherlock and learns to never, ever, ever pray. Part 1 of the The Untranslatables series

Rosethorne by suitesamba (M, 98,888 w., 28 Ch. || Secret Garden AU || Injured Sherlock / John, Recovery, First Times, Minor Character Death, Disability, Past Domestic Abuse [Mary/OMC]) – John Watson, WWII army doctor, is injured in the line of duty and can no longer wield a scalpel. Sherlock Holmes, Britain’s best code-breaker, is side-lined by his own devastating injury. In a work inspired by Frances Hodgson Burnett’s “The Secret Garden,” the two men must find meaning and purpose in a world which seems to have taken away all they hold most dear. But of course, it really hasn’t.

Cake and Other Sins by  Indybaggins (E, 100,670 w. || Great British Bakeoff AU || Alternate First Meeting, Angst, Baking, Desire, Disability, Incest (Holmescest/Holmescest with John), Masturbation, Falling in Love, Oral, Outdoor Sex, Past Drug Use, Poisoning, Voyeurism) – Sherlock and John meet as competing bakers on The Great British Bake Off. There’s intense baking, lush recipes and enticing food. Mycroft, guilt, past sins in chocolate and gingerbread. And love. That too.

Fallen Through Time by susandwrites (E, 102,040+ w., 39/? Ch. || Outlander Fusion / Victorian AU || WIP || Time Travel, First Meetings, Meet-Cute, Frottage, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex/Fingering, Riding Crops, Rough Sex, Floor Sex, Breath Play, Light BDSM, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Switching, Romance, Sex to Love) – Inspired by my love of Outlander, but not exactly an Outlander AU. Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective, finds himself in Victorian London while investigating a murder. The first person he meets is Doctor John Watson, formerly of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers and his world is irrevocably altered.

Reichenbach Falls - Déjà vu by VeeTheRee (M, 180,436+ w., 29/303 Ch. || WiP ||Gravity Falls / Multifandom AU || Alternate First Meeting, Gay Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Unilock, Summer Romance/Love, Fluff, Insecure Sherlock, Villain Mary, First Kiss, Slow Burn, Doctor Who, Supernatural, Canadian John, French Canadian Lestrade, Insecure Sherlock, Mystery, Domestic Fluff, Developing Relationship Summer Love, Light Angst, BAMF! John, Case Fic) – Two Canadians, two Brits studying in Canada, and an upkeeper walk into a Mystery Shack…. and live there. Summer holidays are here, and the step-siblings, Irene Adler and Sherlock Holmes, find themselves in a boring town called Reichenbach Falls, Oregon, USA. It isn’t as boring as it seems, however, once Sherlock stumbles upon a mystery journal, and the author is unknown. The journal contains ciphers, a strange colour wheel, and information about magical creatures that are said to be looming in the Northwestern forests. With mysteries to solve in hand, he and Irene set out to get to the roots of the town, and the abrupt disappearance of the author of the journal. But they’re not alone - John Watson, quite the handsome nephew of the Mystery Shack owner Greg Lestrade, is on their side to help out, plus mess with Sherlock’s feelings, in a good way. Shenanigans, romance, fun, danger, and deductions ensue. Oh, and there’s also occasional SuperWhoLock and two dorky Winchester brothers to spark up the action later on. Part 1 of the Reichenbach Falls series

To the Sticking Place by blueink3 (E, 121,973 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Musical Theatre AU || Showmance, Friends to Lovers, Bickering, UST / RST, Fluff, Virgin Sherlock, BAMF John, New York City / Broadway) – Renowned Shakespearean actor Sherlock Holmes has finally burned all of his bridges in the theatre industry save for his constant director, Greg Lestrade. John Watson has made a name for himself in the musical theatre circuit, but age and injury are working against him. Can they reinvent themselves for an all-male Macbeth without killing one another? Part 1 of the Screw Your Courage series

Bel Canto by bendingsignpost (T, 127,481 w., 16 Ch. || Phantom of the Opera AU || Secret Identity, Sherlock’s Violin, Operas, Aristocracy, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Disguise, Inheritance, Genderqueer Character, Classical Music, Singing) – After years of waiting for wealthy patrons to faint, Dr John Watson discovers a far more interesting patient in the opera house basement.

Welcome to Silent Hill by Cleo2010 (M, 130,227 w., 37 Ch. || Silent Hill Fusion || POV First Person Sherlock, Unrequited Love, Psychological Horror, Violence / Gore, Monsters, Nudity, Drug Use, Harm to Children, Cults, Distressing Imagery, Torture, Death) – John is missing. When Sherlock receives a text summoning him to Silent Hill he's intent on reclaiming his friend but the town has other ideas. Our detective must battle through a world shaped by his own troubled psyche as he uncovers the town's secrets, attempts to find John and hunt down Jim Moriarty. Part 1 of the Welcome to Silent Hill series

Drift Compatible by J_Baillier (E, 130,380 w., 26 Ch. || Pacific Rim Fusion || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Alternate First Meeting, Angst, Family Drama, Accidental Telepathic Voyeurism, Martial Arts, Sci-Fi, Internalised Homophobia, Rubbish Siblings, Army Doctor John, Medical H/C, Bullying, Neurodiversity, PTSD, Drug Use, Depression, Mourning, Adventure, Hurt/Comfort, UST/URT) – A washed out war hero struggling with his past. A prodigy who wants nothing to do with his family legacy. Both are looking for something—and someone—worth fighting for in a world where human civilisation is constantly under threat.

Out There by DiscordantWords (T, 131,695 w., 10 Ch. || X-Files Fusion || Slow Burn, UST, Case Fic, Government Conspiracy, Aliens, UFOs, Mutants, Mutual Pining, First Kiss, Coma) – FBI Special Agent John Watson, medical doctor and army veteran, is assigned to assist eccentric genius Sherlock Holmes with paranormal investigations on the X-Files project.

Omens On Baker Street Series by WorseOmens (NR, 155,294+ w. across 3 works || Series WiP || Sherlock / Good Omens Crossover || Post S4 Sherlock, BAMF Aziraphale, Soft Crowley, Jealous Crowley, Fluff, Angst, General Idiocy, Misunderstandings, Crimes, Humour, Pining, Crimes, Magical Shenanigans, Unlikely Friendships, ?Slow Burn, True Forms, Ineffable Dads, South Downs) – Sherlock and John are no longer the only crime-solving disaster duo in London. After Sherlock unknowingly wrongs a demon, he finds himself with two mysterious rivals in the detective scene. For Crowley and Aziraphale, it's just a bit of fun, but they end up learning more about human nature than they bargained for.

Skeletons by flawedamythyst (T, 174,262 w. across 3 works || Nightmare Before Christmas Fusion ||  Implied Character Death) – Sherlock's refusal to talk about his past hides far more skeletons than John could ever have guessed at. Halloween-esque AU.

In the Deep, Where Dark Things Sleep by HardlyFair (M, 184,979 w., 26 Ch. || Scorpio Races AU || Graphic Violence, 1960′s, Slow Burn, Past Drug Use, Bed Sharing, Water Horses, Folklore, First Kiss/Time, Horror Elements, Vet!John, Protective John, Magical Realism, Horse Racing, Mutual Pining, Angst with Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort) – The closer time crawls to November, the more water horses the Scorpio Sea spits out. The colder Thisby becomes. Sherlock Holmes is an islander - completely surrounded by the water. John Watson, he knows, comes from the mainland and lives for the Races. On the first of November, Sherlock will race. The man holding steady by his side is someone he never expects. A Scorpio Races AU (Maggie Stiefvater), but no knowledge of the book needed.

Rom-com adaptations... Series by MorganeUK (T, 211,229+ w across 8 works || Series WiP || Assorted Crossovers || Rom-Coms, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Friendship, Additional Tags Per Story) –  Mostly Johnlock with Mystrade or Lestrolly. If you want a movie to be johnlocked, let me know :-) Each story is completely different from the other!

Enigma by khorazir (M, 289,667 w., 23 Ch. || Codebreaker / WWII / Imitation Game-Inspired AU || Case Fic, Espionage, Period-Typical Homophobia / Sexism, Pining Sherlock, Inexperienced / VirginSherlock, Implied / Referenced Drug Use, Non-Graphic Violence) – It’s the autumn of 1941, war is raging in Europe, German U-boats are raiding Allied convoys in the Atlantic, the Luftwaffe is bombing English cities, and the cryptographers at Bletchley Park are working feverishly to decode their enemies' encrypted communications. One should consider this challenge and distraction enough for capricious codebreaker Sherlock Holmes. But the true enigmas are yet waiting to be deciphered: an unbreakable code, a strange murder, and the arrival of Surgeon Captain John H. Watson of the Royal Navy.

Over/Under Series by khorazir (M, 319,561 w. across 5 works || Cabin Pressure Crossover || Post-S2 / Reichenbach, ReunionFriendship, Angst, Humour, Pining, Cycling, Mountains, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Dev. Rel., Case Fic, First Kiss, Pining, Family Issues, Inexperienced Sherlock) – After his Fall, Sherlock travels the world to destroy what remains of James Moriarty's criminal empire. When things don't go according to plan and he finds himself in desperate need of a discreet means of travel, cue MJN Air ...

[emilia3546]

Shadowsinger Part 7 -Gwynriel

ACOSF Spoilers! Do Not read this unless you have finished ACOSF and the Azriel bonus chapter

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Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

*****

Azriel fought the urge to fidget, waiting, hidden in the shadows at the back of the room, not all the camp lords were even here yet, but they were still complaining. A clock in the corner struck nine and, almost as one, heads turned to the doorway, to Rhys' form appearing there, right on time. Azriel dispelled the shadows, and almost grinned at the clear surprise of some camp lords, and the outright fear of others, those who'd been toeing the line of outright treason. The moment Rhys stepped into the room, the camp lords stood, some smiled at him, others remained neutral, but there were a few who were glaring at him as if he were the greatest evil they'd ever seen. Rhys waved it all off, taking his seat at the head of the table,

"Sit down, and let's get on with it." Silence still reigned over the table as Azriel stalked across the room to stand behind Rhys, a hand casually resting on Truthteller's hilt at his side. "I believe there are some issues that you wish to discuss," Rhys started, but silenced an overeager lord with a look, "And I will listen, but my decision on matters will be final, is that understood?" He was met by begrudging nods and allowed the first lord to speak, 

"Thank you, High Lord." Good, at least this one hadn't forgotten his manners. Azriel fought the instinct to glare at Ironcrest's camp lord, the arrogant shit that he was, "I do have some concerns about some of your new rules,"

"Laws." Azriel corrected him, "You don't get to belittle laws you don't like."

"My apologies, about your new laws. My daughter, she now has to train with the boys, and wear leathers, I can see them looking at her, and it disgusts me. I have to protect her, but I cannot if you insist that she is trained with the boys." Rhys nodded slowly,

"I understand your concern, but, that is exactly why she should be trained, so that you don't need to protect her all the time. Can she hold her own in a fight?"

"Yes, but-"

"Then you don't need to worry, but I will consider allowing all-female training sessions for those who prefer, and," he added seeing the uproar that was about to kick off, "I will ensure a plan is made to avoid limiting training time for males and the females who are happy to train with them." The camp lord narrowed his eyes for a moment, considering, but sat down, Azriel knew better than to believe he was actually happy, but there was no other way for him to push back. It seemed that, for now at least, he would be content. The moment he sat down another stood to take his place,

"You might be content to see your girls fighting, but I am not. I do not care that your mate fights, High Lord, it is not in females' nature to fight, they will get hurt, and will be unable to do the jobs that they are supposed to do."

"What? Get married and breed?" Rhys raised an eyebrow as he spoke, "I'd consider your answer very carefully,"

"No, but someone has to maintain the camps, do the cooking, make clothes, look after children. Males train and fight full-time, there is no time for that, females fighting is ridiculous, when that isn't what they are designed to do."

"Again, I do understand that you worry about the integrity of your camp, but, I assure you, with both males and females helping with household chores, there is ample time to train and maintain a home."

"I don't think you understand the time it takes, High Lord, it can't be done."

"It can be done, with both males and females helping. Cassian probably works and trains more than all of you, and his mate matches him minute for minute, but they still find time to cook, clean the House, and spend time with their family." The camp lord struggled for words for a moment, "I will have plans written up to help with this if needed, but give yourselves some time to adjust, and teach your sons how to help their sisters and mothers." The camp lord nodded, not quite satisfied, but contented again. Azriel almost winced, if only he knew exactly what they wanted, what exactly Rhys could do to prevent them from rebelling, neither of the two lords who had spoken were really happy, they were just going to wait until Rhys made a wrong move, and strike.

Azriel watched silently, glaring at anyone who liked like he might start violence, and stepped closer to Rhys, ready to step in front of him if needed, but the room stilled when Ironcrest's camp lord stepped up,

"High Lord," he slightly inclined his head to Rhys, in a mockery of a bow, "Hello, Shadowsinger," he chuckled, "Our ability to protect our people comes from our ability to maintain order," each word was carefully chosen but Azriel knew what he really meant, he wanted to be able to control his people, "For protecting our females, that means keeping them in the camp, where they are safe, now they will be tempted to fly somewhere they cannot be protected, where no male knows where they are. We must keep them in the camp for their own safety, and not tempt them with flight elsewhere, into danger." Azriel almost snarled,

"Safety? Is that what you call it?" Rhys chuckled, "I call it control, and it makes you no better than those fae who kept humans as slaves, but you at least convince your enslaved people into thinking that you want to protect them. You don't fool me, but, since the threat of a female not being to defend herself outside of the camps is genuine, you have brought up the exact reason for my insistence that they also train." The lord's face fell for a moment,

"If they fight, they might start to think that they can lead,"

"They can lead, unless you're worried that you might become dispensable." The lord chuckled, 

"Of course not, but I will not have my females thinking that they are more than what they are."

"And what is that?" Rhys' voice was a low warning,

"Wives and mothers, homekeepers, not warriors, that is and has always been, a male role, I will not allow you to destroy our culture." With that he stood and left, leaving silence in his wake,

"Anyone who tries to ignore any laws will be punished as such, if help is needed to adjust it can be provided, or if there are genuine concerns outside of 'females' place' do send me a letter, and I will address them as best I can." Rhys then stood, and rested a hand on Azriel's shoulder, winnowing them both back to Velaris.

Azriel almost stumbled on hitting the ground outside the River House,

"I'm sorry," he muttered, and Rhys blinked,

"What?"

"That was awful, you should have known exactly what they wanted and how to truly avoid a war, that just delayed it."

"I know enough to know that truly avoiding a war is near impossible,"

"But not impossible, not with the right intel."

"Az, you did everything right, anything more drastic would have been noticed," he placed a hand on Azriel's shoulder, "You didn't think you'd find much, don't worry," Azriel turned away,

"I didn't expect much, but I expected something, you shouldn't have had to go in there blind." 

"Az, really, it's fine, your spies not being able to find anything tells us something else, we know at least that they're all being very careful with what they say, that they don't trust their own, and can't be unified." That was true, and Azriel nodded, "C'mon, we've got to make a plan, Feyre's waiting, and Cass will be here soon."

"No Nesta?"

"No, she'd already planned to go with Gwyn to visit Emerie." What? Rhys didn't miss the flash of worry in his eyes, "It's okay, Emerie says there's no hint of rebellion there, Mor dropped them off right at her house, and saw them go inside, no-one will attack them inside." Ariel nodded again and pushed the door open,

"Hold him," Feyre immediately brushed past him, dumping Nyx into his arms as she ran for the nearest bathroom. Azriel wrinkled his nose at the unmistakable scent of vomit, he held Nyx at arms length as the baby gurgled and hiccuped, still smelling, and Rhys chuckled behind him,

"He's not going to explode you know,"

"I know, he smells,"

"He's a baby, they smell." Azriel still held Nyx slightly away from his chest, but smiled when he narrowed his eyes, going still and then trying to leap for a shadow on Azriel's shoulder. With Nyx's tiny wings flapping, Azriel only just managed to catch him before he fell. 

"Well he definitely takes after you, Mr Reckless." Rhys grinned again, and Azriel followed him through to the nursery, putting Nyx down and sending shadows racing around him, Nyx's shouts of joy as he chased them almost taking his mind off Illyria, almost, but not quite,

"Thanks, Az." Feyre grinned when she reappeared, armed with Velaris' best cleaning supplies as she made a beeline for her son, tickling him as she tried to clean him up, making faces at him to make him laugh and let her finish cleaning him. "Good boy," she muttered before releasing him to crawl after the shadows again. She flopped onto a couch next to Rhys, and he automatically threw an arm around her shoulders, "Meeting go well?"

"As well as we could have expected, they're all content for now, still grumbling, but they haven't got a decent excuse yet," Rhys explained, "We just need to brainstorm a few ideas about next steps now, so we can be prepared."

*****

Gwyn stifled a laugh as Nesta almost snorted out her mouthful of hot cocoa at Emerie's comment about one of their most recent books,

"He's not evil," she protested, "He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, that's all."

"Wrong place at the wrong time?" Emerie snorted, "He's literally a war criminal!"

"Well, I think he's got potential, he just needs to see an alternative." Nesta insisted, and looked over to Gwyn, "C'mon, back me up,"

"I think," Gwyn narrowed her eyes, "That we don't really know him well enough to make a proper judgement, he could literally be evil, or he could be hiding his motives, perhaps it'll be clearer in the next book." Nesta cheered, and finished her mug of cocoa, staring triumphantly at Emerie,

"She didn't agree with you, either, Nes!" She shouted after her as she ran off to the kitchen to refill her mug, and grinned when she returned,

"Anyway," Gwyn started, "Enough about fictional males, how's mated life treating you? We haven't had a proper discussion yet." Nesta snorted,

"I've only been back for a few days,"

"Still," Gwyn raised an eyebrow, and Nesta laughed,

"It's like, well you know what we were like before, it's like that, but somehow more, with the bond there, really there, everything is so much more intense, y'know."

"Not really," Emerie smiled, "Care to enlighten us?"

"You know when you love someone so much that when they're not there, you constantly want to check that they're okay?" Both Emerie and Gwyn nodded, Catrin, Gwyn had loved her that much, differently to how Nesta loved Cassian, but she had loved her so much. "It's more than that, it's like looking in a mirror, like seeing my soul reflected in his eyes."

"And the sex is good, yes?" Emerie chuckled, and Nesta blushed, trying to dodge the question,

"You have no idea," she finally muttered, earning a howl of laughter from Emerie, "Right after you mate, there's like a pull, and well,"

"Don't tell me you spent your whole honeymoon having sex?" Emerie giggled gleefully, enjoying this conversation far too much,

"Not all of it!" Nesta insisted, "We went to a little house in the mountains, Cass built it himself a while ago, right after Rhysand became high lord, it was the first time he'd ever been able to buy anything himself, so he bought the materials for that house." Gwyn smiled, "It's right by a lake, and when the sky's clear, and there's no wind, it looks like a mirror, like the stars and moon are shining up rather than down."

"It sounds beautiful," Gwyn mused, 

"It is, and, I don't think he noticed, but when we went down to the lake one evening, some of the stars, they crested just over his wings, and almost looked like a set of armor, but then it disappeared, right as he pointed out some of the constellations, Enalius, he's the one I remember best, but there was a lion one, and a pegasus, and," Nesta paused, and pursed her lips, trying to remember, "And, oh a wolf. And then, he picked me up, and flew above the trees, and the stars were shining over the mountains in the distance. We picked a star. It's our star, whenever I look at it, I have to think of him, and when he looks at it he has to think of me. I know it's a bit lovey-dovey, but I like having that, even when he's not right here."

"I think it's cute," Gwyn squeezed Nesta's hand, "I'm gonna get some more marshmallows," she gestured to the dismally boring mugs of cocoa, and slipped off to the kitchen, and swore when she saw that they'd run out, "Em!" She shouted up the stairs, "You got any more marshmallows?"

"Yeah, there's some in the parlor at the side of the house, I think," Emerie shouted back, before howling with laughter, presumably at Nesta's expense, and Gwyn chuckled to herself as she stepped outside, the cold air nipping at her face as she quickly skirted round the house, keeping an eye out before rummaging through to find the marshmallows.

A hand clamped over her mouth, and muffled Gwyn's scream as she was dragged backwards, no, no, no, she couldn't, not again, tears pricked her eyes as she fought desperately to regain her balance, her panic clouding her mind. She forced herself to stop, to take a deep breath in. It was dark, no-one else was around, Nesta and Emerie were too far away to help her. She glanced around as much as she could, there, Emerie had a wood-chopping block set up, and the axe was still there. She relaxed, and stopped struggling, waiting for her attacker to grow complacent. He didn't, just tugged her tighter against him,

"You're one of the bitches who thought that females can fight," a voice hissed in her ear, "We'll see what our 'oh so powerful' High Lord thinks when he finds out we have you." Gwyn shivered in fear, slowly trying to loosen his grip on her, but the moment he slightly let go, he spun her around and threw her to the floor, she was several hundred meters from the house now, even if she screamed nobody would hear her. Right as she tried to get up, he kicked her hands out from underneath her, pinning her wrists to the floor. She couldn't breathe. This was it. She was going to die, right here, right now, she was going to die. "Pathetic," the male hissed, "Girls like you should know better than to go outside in the dark on your own, even if the camp is loyal, some of us don't agree with the new laws." Gwyn ignored him, focusing on keeping her breathing slow, but each time he adjusted his grip on her, it sped back up. She had to distract herself, something happy. Nesta smiling, Emerie laughing, male in the dark. It wasn't working, miniature pegasus, male in the dark. Baby Nyx, male in the dark. Azriel. Azriel smiling, Azriel laughing, Azriel singing, Azriel holding her, flying over Velaris, Azriel teaching her silent fighting, Azriel, Azriel, Azriel.

Gwyn surged upwards, flipping the male off, and sprinted for the axe, wrenching it out of the wood, and hurled it at her assailant, only turning back in her mad sprint for the safety of the house at his grunt of pain. He stumbled, blood seeping out through his leathers as he inspected the gash in his thigh,

"Bitch," he hissed, and Gwyn flew for the door, latching it behind her,

"Nesta! Emerie!" Gwyn screamed, backing away from the door, Nesta was the first down the stairs, "We have a problem, call Cassian now, get someone here to fetch us early, he'll break down the door soon." True to her words, a banging started on the doors, and stopped, but then intensified, oh shit, he had the axe, she'd practically given it to him, and he was going to kill them. "You have any weapons, Em?" Emerie silently shook her head, 

"Only kitchen knives,"

"That'll do," Nesta muttered, "C'mon, we should be ready for when he gets in." Gwyn followed Nesta into the kitchen, quite happy to let her plan, and position them all. The banging stopped, he was in, but then there was a thump, and the door squeaked open, so it was still on its hinges,

"Nesta? Gwyn? Emerie?" Mor. Gwyn stood out of her hiding place, and Emerie ran for Mor, her wings almost knocking them both off their feet as she crashed into Mor's arms,

"Thank the gods," she muttered, "We thought we were going to have to fight him off with cutlery." Mor snorted,

"Not on my watch, let's get out of here." Emerie wrapped her arms around Mor's waist, and Nesta and Gwyn each held an arm, only letting go once they reached the House of Wind, "There's not a spare room here, there's already one in the townhouse though, I'll stay with you if you prefer, Em." Emerie smiled and nodded,

"Yeah, okay, thanks." And held on to Mor as she winnowed them away again. Gwyn had barely registered arriving before Cassian hurtled through the door, and cupped Nesta's face in his hands,

"Are you hurt? Who tried to hurt you? I'll kill him, I'll kill him." Nesta reached up to cup his face,

"I'm fine, I'm fine Cass, no-one touched me, Mor was there quickly enough." Cassian gathered her into his chest,

"I'm never leaving your side again," he muttered, kissing the top of her head, and Gwyn almost wanted to leave, but that felt more awkward,

"That's a bit dramatic," Nesta giggled,

"I mean it, sweetheart, I'm going nowhere, from now on, I get to tag along on girls night." Nesta snorted again,

"Only if you let us braid your hair."

"Deal." Gwyn's attention was drawn away by a little noise behind her, and she turned to find Azriel waiting,

"How long have you been there?" She asked, and he shrugged,

"I didn't want to startle you," Gwyn just wrapped her arms around his neck, raising herself on her tiptoes just to reach, "Are you okay?" He muttered, noting the mud all over her clothes,

"Yeah, just a bit shaken, he didn't get a chance to actually hurt me, just scared me a bit." Azriel nodded, and squeezed around her waist a little, "I panicked,” she admitted, "All the training we've been doing, and the first time I got ambushed, I panicked."

"That's okay, it's normal, you still got away, that's still great." Gwyn sighed,

"I suppose, but what if it happens again, I mean it was a male in the dark, and I just froze," tears formed in her eyes when Azriel gently tipped her chin up to look at him, 

"That is normal, Gwyn. You did so, so well by realizing that you were panicking and working through it to escape, you did, I am so proud of you for that." Gwyn smiled, just a little, but it made Azriel grin at her, "Do that again."

"What?"

"Smile." She did,

"Thank you, Az." She mumbled, letting him lead her back to her rooms and draw up a bath. He stayed sat on the bed while she washed, talking gently, almost nonsense, but his voice, just his voice chased away the remaining fear, and Gwyn found that she was exhausted, and was almost asleep when she flopped into bed, barely registering when Azriel brushed her hair out of her face and kissed her brow gently before leaving her to sleep. Gwyn tried to call out his name, to ask him to stay, but he was gone, and sleep claimed her quickly.

Tired as she was, dreams plagued her sleep, dreams of faceless males, in the dark, dreams that she hadn't had in years, dreams of Catrin's face, smiling and laughing, then crying silently in fear, dreams of the younglings she had to protect before they shared her sister's fate. Her eyes flew open right as that Hybern commander's face appeared in her dreams. She stumbled to the bathroom, staring straight into the mirror.

I'm safe.

It's over.

I'm in Velaris.

I'm safe.

It's over.

I'm in Velaris.

It wasn't working, her usual calming ritual wasn't working, she couldn't calm herself down, she splashed her face with water, deep breaths, deep breaths. The bed was drenched in sweat when she returned, sweat that felt like blood, Catrin's blood, just like the nightgown clinging to her skin now. Gwyn stepped back into the bathroom, and cleaned herself up before changing into a new nightgown. When she returned to the bed, it was clean, new sheets in place,

"Thank you," she whispered, just about managing to fall asleep until a voice filled her dreams

That one's mine.

Gwyn hurled herself out of bed, she had to get out, she had to just get away, she threw the door open, a sob rising in her chest as he eyes fell on the door across from hers, as the scent from that room reached her. Male, but safe, male, but safe, male, but she didn't fear it, no, she didn't fear it, she loved it. She threw the door open, the sobs finally forcing their way out of her as she ran fro Azriel. She sobbed as she crawled onto the bed, into his arms, and buried her face in his chest,

"Az," she sobbed, and he mumbled gently to her, she couldn't quite make out the words, but his voice was calm, soothing, and she snuggled into him, "I had a nightmare," she muttered by way of an explanation, and Azriel gently stroked her hair, "About Sangravah, I was scared."

"You're safe here," he mumbled, "I'm right here, no-one can touch you, not while I'm here." She nodded and sniffed again, fear dissipating with every word he spoke, and giggling when a shadow wrapped around her, 

"They're protecting me," she giggled, and gradually drifted back to sleep, nightmares held at bay as she slept this time. She was safe here, with him. Gwyn slept the whole night snuggled against Azriel's chest, safe in his arms.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt: MDZS: Fae AU (with at least some mention of NHS, because he’s one of my favorites?)

Nie Huaisang rather liked their Neighbors.

He was aware that that was widely viewed as being a little bit odd of him, but it wasn’t any more odd than his general distaste for training his saber – though combined with his passion for pretty things, fans and clothing and paintings and birds, more than one person had not-so-subtly implied that they thought Nie Huaisang might be a changeling.

(They only ever implied it once – Nie Mingjue seemed to have an extra sense for finding out when people were being cruel to his brother, and no hesitation whatsoever about beating the living daylights out of them when he did.)

Honestly, Nie Huaisang wouldn’t even mind it that much. Their Neighbors are a bit of an oddity, truth be told – one of his ancestors had had a bad case of restless feet and decided to rebel against their family rules by taking his saber and joining up as a caravan guard headed for the western lands, and when he’d reached the end of that route he’d hopped on a boat and kept going until he couldn’t go any further.

When he came back, he brought the Neighbors with him.

Normal people might have protested the idea of having inhuman creatures just like the ones they fought every time they went on a night-hunt being brought back at all, much less categorized as neighbors. Personally, Nie Huaisang suspected that the Nie Sect Leader at the time had been his brother’s previous incarnation, because the man had apparently just shrugged and told them that they were welcome as long as they obeyed the same rules as anyone else – and after that, well, it would be rude to go back on that, wouldn’t it?

Really, as long as they kept up with the usual traditions of trade, leaving out a pat of milk with some honey on the regular and making sure to have a few silver sabers forged in case a visiting guest disciple didn’t feel like picking up steel, and self-protection, like keeping unforged iron on the gate and woven into your hair as a daily tradition, the Neighbors were pretty decent company.

Tricky, yes, and often mischievous in a way that could mean death to the unwary, but – weren’t most things like that, anyway?

Maybe that was just his heritage in the Nie sect speaking. Compared the saber spirits, the Neighbors were downright friendly. Sure, they had to give up a few things – in Qinghe, given names were rarely used and never willingly shared, with nicknames for children and courtesy names bestowed as soon as the child could lift even a practice saber to avoid having any issues like that one particular family legend – but the Neighbors gave them things back, too.

Cleaning, for one. Nie Huaisang always found it rather funny how the other sects consistently underestimated the Nie sect’s size, assuming as they did that the majority of their numbers were retainers necessary for scrubbing floors and doing laundry, when in fact they were all practicing the saber most of the time – the actual housework was mostly done by some extremely efficient Neighbors that hated being noticed and despised being thanked even more.

The popular theory was that cleaning for humans was the Neighbor equivalent of family discipline, and everyone knew how rude interfering with imposed punishments was; no one had been stupid enough to try to offer them pay in years, even though the occasional guest disciple sometimes asked about it.

Assuming they even noticed. Most guest disciples were so stuck in their ways and traditions that they never bothered to think about who was doing the cleaning, and the clever ones, like Meng Yao, were mostly just confused when they were told that the Neighbors did it and not to ask too many questions.

It wasn’t really a good thing to ask too many questions – unless you were like Nie Huaisang and actually enjoyed conversations that had no yeses and no noes, where every sentence was both innuendo and veiled threat and nothing ever made sense if you applied merely human logic to it.

Yes, Nie Huaisang rather liked their Neighbors, and he sometimes flattered himself in thinking that they liked him, too.  Mushrooms appeared on his windowsill on a regular basis (he always reserved a quarter to be dressed into a nice salad and returned to them), insects never dared touch him, and really, as long as he remembered not to eat or drink anything when he visited them for a bit of late-night dancing, their strange Neighbor-style dancing that wasn’t anything like normal dancing, everything was fine.

(When he was younger, he thought going dancing with the Neighbors was being rebellious, only to grow up and realize that his brother had known all along, but allowed it to pass without comment on the basis that at least Nie Huaisang was getting exercise somehow.)

Actually, it was a little funny. The Neighbors might be friendly to Nie Huaisang, who liked them and spent time on them, but they were obsessed with his brother, who barely paid them any attention.

He never neglected them, of course; Nie Mingjue was as righteous in his contracts with the Neighbors as he was in upholding his word in any other part of his life. Ironically, that was the very thing that drove the Neighbors wild about him.

He just says what he means and means what he says, a voice identical to a rippling brook complained to a passing bit of ball lightning. As plainspoken as a fool, as unyielding as time, as vicious as we – and yet he understands all that we say. Impossible!

Nie Huaisang hid his mouth behind a fan so that they didn’t have to see him laugh. There was a reason the Neighbors had always had such good relations with the Nie sect, and it was because his ancestors were either like Nie Mingjue, painfully straightforward, or like Nie Huaisang, who found the Neighbors’ inexplicable and confusing ways rather charming.

It was a good deal for both sides, really. Especially now, during times of war – the invading Wen sect didn’t know the rules about avoiding rings and not drinking from mysterious pools, and the Neighbors took offense at that, responding as they usually did with hissing snakes and night attacks and the occasional horse-that-wasn’t-a-horse luring people off to their deaths.

They even had an agreement with them regarding offering a safe harbor for people like Nie Huaisang, who couldn’t fight, letting the disciples of the Nie sect have an available retreat to somewhere safe without having to worry about the usual year-and-a-day return clause – it only applied to Nie disciples, and in rare occasions to someone who’d agreed to a blood-bound oath of loyalty, and even then only begrudgingly, because it was the Nie disciples who came down beneath the ground every seven years to wield steel and iron as allies in the Neighbor’s regular fight over tithing.

Nie Huaisang made it a personal mission to make their presence less objectionable to the Neighbors, talking and dancing with them, and a great deal of their grumpiness was assuaged by it – they even agreed to launch a few unprovoked attacks, which Nie Huaisang framed as pranks, and said that they appreciated Nie Huaisang’s sense of humor.

(That was probably an insult, actually.)

At any rate, it certainly made for a more interesting place to stay than the Cloud Recesses, that’s for sure, even if Nie Huaisang secretly suspected the food – thistles and twigs and dirt, to his opened eyes, for all that it was shaped to look like human delicacies – would probably taste about the same.

Much more interesting, in fact, and it was rather funny the way most people rolled their eyes when he told them that his contribution to the Sunshot Campaign had been to spend most of it dancing.

Most people, anyway.

Wei Wuxian frowned at him instead.

“When you say dancing –” he started to say, then shook his head. “Never mind.”

“Indoor dancing,” Nie Huaisang said, sounding him out. “Very nice, but there was always that roof above our heads – it really could make one feel claustrophobic at times, even though they painted it a lovely shade of blue.”

Wei Wuxian twitched, noticeably, and Nie Huaisang grinned with teeth behind his fan.

“I think Wei-gongzi may have tripped a circle in the Burial Mounds,” he whispered to his brother later, who only arched his eyebrows. “Doesn’t he seem a little older than when he left, even though he was only missing for three months?”

“Three months and a day,” his brother said, and oh, that was practically confirmation itself, wasn’t it?

“Do you think the demonic cultivation…?”

“No, that’s his,” Nie Mingjue said, and for all that he never paid much attention to the Neighbors he knew a little too much about them. Sometimes, when Nie Huaisang asked, he attributed it to his saber spirit’s occasional nightly wandering, but Nie Huaisang wasn’t sure he believed him. “They just gave him more time to work on it. Three years instead of three months, I’d wager.”

When it came to the Neighbors, Nie Mingjue’s wager was as good as a solid promise of gold.

“I’ll invite him to visit,” Nie Huaisang decided.

Of course, that wasn’t to be, what with Wei Wuxian locking himself up in the Yiling Burial Mounds as an enemy of the entire cultivation world shortly thereafter, but Nie Huaisang wasn’t easily deterred.

After all, if Wei Wuxian had accidentally tripped into the Neighbor’s world under-the-mountain (under the mound? Under the hill?) in Yiling, that meant that there was a way to get out there, too.

Nie Huaisang packed up some housewarming (sect-warming?) presents, told his brother where he was going (he rolled his eyes but didn’t object), and went down into their basement to go see Wei Wuxian.

Maybe Wei Wuxian would like to join him for some dancing.