#this post is mor directed at the following

[daycourtofficial]

Love Potion No. 9

Summary: Azriel returns from a mission and can’t seem to keep his hands off of you.

Author’s note: happy halloween! I thought a fun love potion theme would be so cute and fun!

(Part 2)

Can you come into Azriel’s room?

Rhysand’s request permeates your thoughts. You rise from your spot on the couch, placing a marker in the book you’re halfway through. You pad down the hallway, passing Mor, who gives you a soft smile.

You reach Azriel’s door, knocking softly before letting yourself in. You walk over to Azriel, who’s sitting on his bed with Cassian and Rhys standing facing him.

Rhys made these visits mandatory after Azriel went on three back to back missions and no one realized he hadn’t slept for 6 days until he winnowed in the dining room instead of his room, crashing on the table. Since that happened, Rhys has been making you, their healer, check on everyone post mission.

“Hi Az,” you say, stepping up to him.

“Sweetheart! Hi!” He says, putting his arms around you, enveloping you immediately.

You give Cassian a confused look. The two of you were exceptionally flirty and spent all of your time together, but Azriel was only this touchy when on the rare occasion he allowed himself to get drunk. He especially was never this touchy in front of his brothers.

You wrap your arms around him as he tucks his head into the crook of your shoulder. “Can I check you out, look you over?”

“Baby, you can do much more than that.”

Your cheeks heat immediately, but you don’t address it. You assess him for injuries, which you found none. As you’re assessing, he keeps his hands in a loose circle around your waist, trying to touch as much of you as he can while you’re working.

“Okay, Azriel, I didn’t find any injuries, are you in any pain?”

“I was, actually, in a lot of pain earlier.”

You stop, holding hand as you ask, “what happened?”

He looks down at his feet, thinking about whatever had caused his pain, as he says, “we were apart for several days.”

You roll your eyes, unsure of what has brought this on from him.

“Can you follow my fingers with your eyes?”

You hold up your pointer finger from each hand, holding them in front of his face, as you begin moving your left hand in the left direction. He does as you ask, following your hand, but as you start moving your fingers, you feel his hands slither down to cup your ass.

You hear Cassian try not to laugh.

“Did you ingest anything that you didn’t pack while you were gone?”

He sighs dreamily, “the only thing I want to put my mouth on is you.”

Your jaw drops, but Azriel doesn’t notice. He just starts playing with the ends of your hair, muttering about pretty your hair is when it’s loose.

“Did you have any problems winnowing?” You ask, trying desperately to keep this professional and to get through this check up. You half forgot that Cassian and Rhys are still here, if it weren’t for the occasional giggles from them.

“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’. He rests his hands on your waist, not looking away from your face. “Just thought of home, and you showed up. I don’t think that’s a coincidence.” He states, winking very over dramatically at you.

You see his canteen, and ask, “may I?”

“Everything I have is yours, sweets.”

Cassian’s snort escapes without his permission.

You grab his canteen of water, screwing off the cap and sniffing it.

“Can I see you two out in the hallway?” At the mention of leaving him, Azriel pouts, his hands tightening around your waist. He starts to speak, but you cut him off, “I promise I’ll be right back.”

That response somewhat appeases him, and after Azriel untangles himself from you, not without a ton of huffs from him, the three of you step out into the hallway. You extend Azriel’s canteen with the lid screwed off out to them. “Smell this, what do you smell?”

Cassian takes a whiff, as does Rhysand.

“It smells like the air in the clouds, like,” Rhys takes another sniff, “like the soap Feyre loves. And clean sheets.”

Cassian smells it, “it smells like strawberries and sex.”

You chuckle before starting, “this is a love potion. Someone has drugged our shadowsinger.”

“But he was fine until he saw you - wouldn’t a love potion make him fall in love with who he saw first?” Cassian gasps, “I saw him first! It should be me,” almost offended Azriel wasn’t hanging off of him like he was you.

You laugh, “no, Cass. Love potions can have a certain person in mind, but you have to be an incredibly talented potionmaster to brew such a concoction.” You blush a little before continuing, “most love potions can only exacerbate feelings that are already there. Hence why I had you two smell it - it smells differently to you two. If it was brewed for a certain person, it would smell like them.”

Rhys looks at you, a mischievous grin showing on his lips, “you didn’t tell us what you smell.”

Your blush deepened even further, “it smells like books,” you sigh, looking at your feet, “and like Azriel’s cologne, which is why I couldn’t smell it on him and asked you two to smell it.”

Cassian wolf whistles and you hit his arm, “shut up.”

“Should we be worried? How long will the potion last?” Rhys asks, changing the topic for a moment.

“They usually only last for 12 hours. Supposedly it is all encompassing. I’ve never seen anyone take it before, so I’m not sure what to expect.”

The two brothers look at each other and grin. “Oh no, poor Az. Being looked after by our beautiful healer for twelve uninterrupted hours. However will he cope?” Rhys’s signature smirk stretching his face.

“Rhysand, if you’re insinuating I’d ever take advantage of a patient under the influence of a love potion, you’d be gravely mistaken.”

“Well, I didn’t see you exactly prying his hands off your ass, now did I?”

Cassian mutters under his breath, “I’m sure Azriel can find it in his heart to forgive you if you took advantage.”

You roll your eyes so hard you’re concerned they might actually get stuck. The two bats turn to leave, deciding they’ve teased you enough for now. Cassian turns around, making kissing noises at you as they disappear down the hall.

When Rhys and Cass are out of earshot, Cassian tells his high lord, “you owe me 50 gold marks.”

Rhys scoffs, “you owe me 100 gold marks for the love potion.”

Cassian rolls his eyes, “call it even?”

[writeroutoftime]

pawns in your game

pairing: cassian x fem!reader

summary: when you get injured working a job with rhys, your mate - worried for your safety - loses it and finally lets go of his pent up anger

warnings: angst, injury towards reader, cass getting angry at rhys and also rhys kinda being a dick (look I have a lot of thoughts of conversations that never happened in acosf lol - I just hope this isn't horribly ooc)

words: 1.3k

a/n: first cassian fic! honestly, I know I said I'm in love with rhys, but it's the same for cass and az - so this one is for my fellow cassian people! wasn't sure how to wrap this up, so I left it open for a part 2. let me know if anyone is interested and/or has any ideas? but either way, please enjoy!! (also, if you could let me know what you think because I'm so nervous about posting this!)

tagging @captainsophiestark as requested! (hope you're having a lovely day!)

oOoOo

"Cassian, I need you to visit Windhaven and deal with Devlon. I'm getting reports of unrest, and I want this handled before it becomes a problem." Rhys commanded, not looking up from the papers on his desk.

Standing at attention, Cass nodded his head once, sharply. "Of course. I will go and pack, so that y/n and I may leave before the sun sets." He moved to exit the room, holding his hand out for you, but was quickly stopped before either of you got too far.

"Actually, y/n, I need you to accompany me." Rhys interrupted, directing his attention to you.

Your jaw dropped, caught off guard, and you hurried to school your features. It was not that you had to be paired with Cassian for all missions, but it had been that way for at least a century now since your mating ceremony. It served as peace of mind to you and Cass, and usually meant your missions were more successful compared to when you were separated. Surely, Rhys understood that.

"We will be leaving for the Spring Court in the morning, and I need my most trusted courtier with me."

Shock ran through your body, but you nodded your head regardless. It must be a serious matter, for you had not visited the Spring Court in many months. However, you instantly felt a sharp tug of your mating bond followed by waves of anger that poured off of Cassian.

"Spring Court?" he ground out, fists clenched at his side. "Why must you travel to the Spring Court? I thought we put that behind us?"

"Because I have official business to conduct with Tamlin that supersedes our personal desires. And I need the Night Court's courtier present for." Rhys snapped back.

You sent a soothing message down the bond, trying to calm Cass' anger you felt growing with each second that passed. "Cass, it's alright. Both of us will be fine."

"No. Rhys, you know what happened the last time any of us stepped foot there. You really want to risk it? Can't you send anyone else to go? Lucien, Mor, Feyre?"

Now it was Rhys' turn to growl. "Watch it, Cassian. I've told y/n she will accompany to Spring and that's enough."

"But can't you just-"

"I said that's enough!" Rhys shouted, his eyes darkened dangerously as the thread of his patience snapped. "I am your High Lord, and you will not push back against what I command."

A tension so thick that it threatened to choke you immediately filled the room. You kept your eyes locked on the ground, but you didn't have to look to know Cass wore a mask of despair on his face. It had been decades since Rhys had lost his temper like that.

Cassian merely bowed his head in mock respect before dragging you from the room. He did not speak for the next hour, only doing so to whisper his love and goodbye to you, before flying to Windhaven, not saying another word to Rhys.

oOoOo

The next day found yourself in the ruins of the Spring Court. What once was a beautiful court that thrived for all its citizens now lay dilapidated and lonely, a reflection of the court's high lord's own feelings. It had rattled your nerves to set foot on Tamlin's territory considering the rocky history between the Spring and Night courts, but you would not leave Rhys' side.

Now, you were utterly exhausted from mediating with two, stubborn males all day; only for no new development to transpire, meaning you simply wasted a day away from your own court and your mate. Your only relief came from the swift exit Rhys insisted on, making sure you would arrive home before the sun set.

Yet, the tension from the previous day lingered as you and Rhys traveled to the border to be able to winnow out. But as you both walked in silence, you couldn't help but feel uneasy. Like someone, or something was watching you. Before you could communicate any of this to Rhys, you caught a solider out of the corner of your eye with an arrow notched and aimed at your high lord.

"Look out!" you shouted. With such little warning, you knew Rhys wouldn't be able to deflect the arrow on his own. And with a rush of adrenaline, you pushed your body to reach Rhys.

Mere seconds before the arrow could lodge itself in its initial target, your body collided with Rhys', knocking him out of the way and safely to the ground. Instead, the arrow lodged itself deep in your shoulder, burning like a thousand fires. You let out a guttural scream, immediately dropping to the ground. 

Being part of the Inner Circle - the Court of Dreams - meant you were no stranger to pain, but this was unlike anything you ever thought existed. Very briefly, you recognized that Rhys had neutralized the threat and now hovered over your body. 

His face was contorted in pain and tears clouded his eyes. He moved to pull the arrow from your body, but halted the moment he touched it. Your scream reverberated in the stone courtyard. 

"y/n, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." he cried, never seeing you like this. Quickly, Rhys gathered you in his arms and winnowed back to Velaris and directly into the med wing. He prayed Madja could mend the wounds, and he blanched at the thought of Cassian discovering the events that had played out. 

oOoOo

Meanwhile, in the Windhaven camp, Cassian was meeting with a handful of males, attempting to negotiate peace. His focus wavered, however, as a blinding wave of agony struck his heart through his bond. He froze on the spot, his heart stopped pumping blood. While on a mission, the two of you had agreed to keep the bond closed - for safety reasons. The fact that he could feel this immense pain, meant something very wrong had occurred. 

"I-I have to go." Cassian mumbled, not bothering to offer any more explanation to the Illyrians - consequences be damned.

Immediately, he took to the skies and started the flight back to Velaris. The already long flight felt like it took an eternity. The wind strung at Cassian's cheeks as he soared, but the pain didn't register like the way the bond sung in pain.

Finally, Cass could see River House in his site, and when he finally entered the house, he was met with the site of his family huddled together in the sitting room. All eyes turned his way, a mixture of pity and concern as they looked at him. 

"What happened? Where is y/n?" he demanded, fully stepping into his role as Lord of Bloodshed, eyes darkened and wings drawn out menacingly.

Before anyone could answer, another scream could be heard from the halls. Cassian's knees buckled, and he would have fallen to the floor if Azriel hadn't been standing by. Rhys blocked his path, unable to meet his brother's eye.

"She was attacked, brother. We were ambushed while visiting the Spring Court." Rhys whispered.

"And they attacked her?" Cass questioned, though he knew deep down that wasn't the case. When Rhys, or anyone else for that matter, refused to speak, Cassian growled. "What happened?"

Unable to speak, Rhysand gently scraped against Cassian's mental shields and projected to him the whole truth of what had happened at the Spring Court; the ambush, you pushing yourself into harm's way for the sake of Rhys, and the pain you felt from the moment the arrow struck your body.

As Rhys withdrew himself from his brother's mind, Cass drew, deep rugged breaths. The silence in the room was so thick it felt suffocating, but no one dared to move or speak first. However, instead of speaking, Cass pushed past everyone and demanded his way into your room to be by your side.

One look at your crumpled form, sent Cassian to his knees by your bedside. He reached out, hesitantly, to grasp your hand in his and allowed the tears to fall. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart." he mumbled.

Madja made herself known from the corner, approaching Cass the way one would a frightened animal. "The arrow she was shot with was laced with a terrible poison - much worse than faebane. I've done my best, but some of the poison already made it to her system."

"When will she wake up?" Cass asked, not allowing the possibility of you never waking to cross his lips.

The healer sighed deeply, looking over the famed general, now brought to his knees at the sight of his mate fighting for her life. "Only the Cauldron and Mother know. It will be up to y/n to bring herself back from the brink." Madja spoke slowly.

With a final, soothing touch to Cass's shoulder, Madja made her exit. Now off to deliver the same news to the rest of your waiting family.

"Please don't leave me. Y-you can't leave me." Cass whispered, clutching your hand. "I'm here with you every step of the way." he vowed.

oOoOo

And that was how it continued for the next four days as your body continued to try and heal itself from the inside out. Cass refused to move from the chair he had dragged to sit by your bed. Unwilling to leave your side for even a moment.

The rest of his family took turns sitting with you and Cass, bringing him meals, forcing him to at least take a bite. He knew that everyone else was suffering as well from your situation, but it felt like his heart was being torn apart, bit by bit, with each hour that passed and you still remained asleep.

He wasn't stupid. He knew the longer you went without improvement, the less likely it became you would heal. Cass heard the hushed conversations Mor and Azriel held outside your door, discussing what to do should the worst happen, Cauldron forbid.

It was on that fourth day that Cassian reached a tipping point. He heard the door creak open behind him, imagining it was Amren who would be sitting with him, based on the previous days' schedule.

What Cass had not anticipated was to see his High Lord approach the bed and pull a chair up on the opposite side of your bed. It was obvious to see the prominent dark circles that overtook Rhys's normally bright face, and the way his body and seemingly sunk into itself. But Cass could not bring himself to care for his brother's guilt or be the first to utter a word.

With a wave of his hand, Rhys summoned a tray of food for Cassian, and only sighed when he rejected the peace offering. Finally, Rhys found a sliver of courage and was the first to break the silence.

"Madja has yet to make headway on identifying the poison y/n was hit with, but she is not giving up. None of us are." he offered, unsure of how to breach the subject.

Rhysand could only imagine what Cassian was experiencing. The pain of losing Feyre had been so immense, but in a twisted sense, at least it had been quick. A blink of an eye and she was gone. Rhys didn't think he would have been strong enough to sit vigil, feeling her fade through the bond with each passing minute.

"Stop looking at me like she's already gone." Cass growled, eyes darkening towards Rhys.

"Brother, I only want to help her, and to support you."

"I think you've done quite enough. It's your fault she's even in this position to begin with." he spat, enjoying the way that Rhys flinched at his words.

"Now that's not fair, Cassian." Rhys tried to counter. "I never asked her to that for me."

Cass could only scoff at the High Lord's response. "Of course, you didn't have to ask. You're the fucking High Lord, of course she was going to risk her life for you. Isn't that we all do here?"

"All of you, y/n including, knew what you were getting into, what the dangers were, when you swore allegiance to my court. You don't get to throw that back on me. You think this doesn't hurt me just as it hurts you?"

"No, it fucking doesn't!" Cassian screamed, his blood boiling at this point. "Because you use us like your puppets to protect you and your mate-"

"Careful how you continue, Cassian." Rhysand warned, not caring for slander against his mate, even in Cass's state of grief.

"Ever since this "death bargain" you and Feyre struck, it's like the rest of us don't matter. All we do is making sure your asses aren't killed because Cauldron forbid the saviors of Prythian are stolen from us." Cassian blazed on. "Yes, you've lost your mate before, Rhys, but she came back to you, and you to her.

"Who will remake y/n if she can't fight this? You and your High Lady are so far up on your pedestal that you don't know what it's like for the rest of us. Yes, we understood what our duties would entail, but that doesn't mean we have to continue to stand for this." Cassian spat, finally allowing years of pent-up fear and anger to spill over.

With one last, murderous, glare, Cassian turned his back on Rhysand, letting his words ring out for all in the House to hear. His wings stretched out behind him, hiding both you and he from Rhys, the Night Court, and the rest of the world. If it was to only be the two of you against everyone else from that point on, so be it.

part 2

oOoOo

a/n: part 2?

[lovemyromance]

I took ONE business law class and did great so I think I'm a lawyer or whateva

But if you look at the Gwynriel argument from a purely logical perspective, you can break it down into 2 parts:

1) Azriel felt a spark in his chest picturing Gwyn's joy

2) That makes them mates

In order to prove that hypothesis, you'd have to assume then, that:

1. All cases of "spark" when used by SJM indicate a future mating bond.

2. When SJM writes a mated pairing, they have to have had the "spark"

And to be fair, this is the case in a few couples she has written.

But it is not the case for all.

And therein lies the problem. If the statement you are using to base 99% of your theories on is not a valid, true statement - then how is any resulting theory using that statement going to hold up against basic logic?

If SJM used the word "spark" when referring Feyre & Tamlin, Lorcan & Aelin - both not mated couples - then she does not always use the word "spark" to indicate a future mating bond.

If SJM didn't use spark with Nessian, then she does not always use the word "spark" to indicate a future mating bond.

Therefore the statement that Azriel & Gwyn are mates because SJM used the word "spark" is an illlgical statement.

There is really only one key indicator of a mating bond between a couple, and that's if mate behavior. Mate behavior is something we can predominantly see in the males SJM writes. In her universe we know the following about mates:

Males always know first

Males feel protective over their mates

Males feel a tie, a pull to their mates

When their mate is in danger, they go batshit crazy

Let's apply the following framework to Elucien, for example, a couple we know is mates but hasn't yet dealt with the mating bond.

1. Lucien knew Elain was his mate the moment she got spat out of the cauldron

2. Lucien had an urge to protect Elain post cauldron

3. Lucien feels the tie to Elain

4. Lucien was snarling at Tamlin to get her back when Mor took the sisters to the NC

We can follow out the same 4 points for Rhys and Cassian and any mate in SJM's universe. This is a case where all mates always have these 4 points.

Now let's look at Azriel & Gwyn.

1. Mates always know first

As of HOFAS, Azriel says he does not have a mate. Even after knowing Gwyn for years and spending every day with her in ACOSF, he still does not say he has a mate

2. Urge to protect

Azriel feels a generic urge to protect everyone, that's true. But he is not overly protective of Gwyn in any shape or form. I think he's more protective of Nesta than Gwyn

3. There is no tie

We've had one POV with azriel where he does interact with Gwyn, and nowhere in it does he describe a pull to her or a tie to her or any mating bond type bridge between souls shit. Again, he'd notice that. It's kinda hard to miss when you feel a tug towards another person in your soul

4. There's no crazy batshit behavior

Azriel has seen Gwyn in danger/life threatening situations twice now. The first time, she didn't have any training and the most Azriel did was give her his cloak before continuing on his mission. He went there on an order, and then after stopping Gwyn's SA, he continued on his mission. He didn't take the time to see her after or check on her or really comfort her. Even when she got taken for the BR, Azriel barely reacts. He is calm and undeterred and says they have to go save ERIS. A direct comparison is Cassian, who was having a meltdown when Nesta was taken. It's like SJM was showing us "see? This is how a mate reacts"

All in all, there's absolutely no valid evidence that suggests Azriel & Gwyn are mates.

Your honor I rest my case 🖐️😪

[izanna]

Great huge theory post for elriel/gwyn 

I'm going to start this off by saying, these have been curated from many people, not just me, i will try to credit all of them at the end, a lot of this was sourced from tumblr's large elriel community. and lots of rereads from the reddit community.

first theory:

The potatoes

You remember that scene wher Elain is coming out with potatoes and azriel takes them form her?

Yes, what beautiful scene, we love it.

Well one of the tumblr communities nicest elriels (credit at bottom) made a post in the our very own elriel tumblr community (PM me if you wanna join~!) ! it goes as follows:

" Call me crazy, but 🥔🥔🥔

Ok. We know Elain reacted to Azriel taking the dish of potatoes out of her hands by kind of freezing and staring at the place where the dish used to be. Interesting that SJM focused on that in so much detail.

Now that could be coincidence, could mean totally nothing. But! What if…it’s foreshadowing something? Like Elain offering food (maybe potatoes or something in that dish?) to Azriel to seal their mating bond? Either the “real one” that the cauldron is covering up by giving her Lucien instead, or a symbolic one they make after she breaks her bond with Lucien and chooses Az?

Maybe she even reacted that way because she’s seen it? In a dream/vision?

Maybe I’m grasping at straws, but the potato scene will always have me in my feels, one way or the other. 💕"

(end of quote)

Now when i brought this to other friends in the community we started buzzing because we have been doing some amazing research and re-reads of the elriel moments, mentions and vibes.

one in particular has done a good amount of research of mor and her interactions with elriel moments, because yes we know it's weird how she acts.

but if this was the moment azriel and Elain did infact make their bond accepted, it would explain quite a few things. the steam from the potatoes being likened to azriels shadows in this moment as well as

mor only started reacting negatively after this scene.

before this scene she reacted worried once. over cassian because he was knocking back drinks. and the only other mention of elain and azriel is the truth teller moment with feyre, and all she does is hum while talking about it which gives the vibe of "hmmmm" or hemming and hawing at the scenario.

afterwards we start getting things like "her mouth agape green beans practically falling out."

or "she stiffened" when azriel walks to elain.

also azriel starts becoming more protective socially of elain after this immediately

another key thing to notice is after this moment elain starts wearing only amethyst colors. only purple which is as we know a mixture of blue and pink. az and Elain's colors.

now haters will say "that's impossible she already has a mate and it's Lucien, Elriels are reaching again blah blah blah." Okay okay,

i direct you all to the scene with nesta putting elain's rose under the mother in the shadows.

the rose is now one with the shadows under the mother.

when did elain's bond with lucien come into knowing? only after she was pulled from the cauldron.

now we know two things form this.

the cauldron, and the mother make bonds.

the acceptance of a bond is food.

elain has shown absolute discomfort around lucien and any mention of her bond, and no mention of her giving him food, infact she goes out of her way to glare at people for trying to get her to talk to him, and or avoiding him by watching water boil.

my best theory right now is there are two bonds, one mother made, one cauldron made.

elain might be the first person to ever have two mates. and it explains so much of the foreshading, the questions and azriel and her behavior toward eachother.

and i question you this, why would elain ever accept anything cauldron made after what the cauldron did to her, her family? and her life?

"well why can't they feel the bond if it's so obvious?"

well what if they did but didn't understand it?

elain stared at her hands after the potatoes were taken, making a undistiguishable face.

why? why would she do that?

AZRIEL HIMSELF QUESTIONS IF THE CAULDRON WAS WRONG.

(foreshadowing again.)

well the cauldron is magic, it is made of magic, magic can conceal things. the cauldron has also been tampered with as a great many of us know from other SJM books, which does carry into Acotar world.

and what if the mother created this bond against the cauldron? i can't imagne the mother and the cauldron get along very well,

seeing as one is to protect, create, give life

and the other is chaos mischief, mayhem and destruction/ death.

now this theory was also from Tumblr (credit below at the end)

Now, gwyreiels might ask "Well what about gwyn!, she had her moment with Azriel in the bonus chapter!! it's obvious foreshadowing."

oh yes it is, but not in the way you think

lets visit one of the gwyriels FAVORITE SCENES. shall we?

""your'e the new ribbon AZ"

gwy nodded her farewell, again facing the ribbon. A warrior sizing up and opponent, all traces of that charming irreverence gone."

A lot of gwyriels stake their houses on this one scene saying it's foreshadowing.

okay, but what? does it give off nay romance vibes to you?

no it's a challenge.

and what is Azriel to gwyn now? A ribbon.

here's the next quote

"Gwy stare the ribbon down like an enemy on a battlefield. IT rippled in the wind, dancing away, it's motions unpredictable as any foe."

oh yes. it did bring some foreshadowing indeed didn't it?

dancing sounds familiar? i wonder why...

Oh yes the bonus chapter. Azriels shadows DANCED, around gwyn.

that compared to the way dancing and ribbons were earlier mention, it doesn't sound like a good thing does it?

my guess is we are going to see gwyns powers as a light singer, and i don't think it's going to be good for azriel. they are going to be enemies in a way. and i know the gwynriels hate this, but it's literally foreshadowed right there babe.

"Whatever none of this is canon, it's jsut a deluded elriel theory yet again."

oh it's not canon yet babes, but it's a theory BASED off canon foreshadowing and quotes.

CREDITS:

potato theory origin!: @mck6888

a lot of the work through ont he theory and the connections with mor's behavior came form our very own RoadsidePoppy! thank you so much for theorizing with me!

and lastly the person responsible for the gwyriel theory and foreshadowing is!:

@Elainsgirl On Tumblr

she was responding to a GA anon quote, and came up with this foreshadowing and theory! thank you all so much i hope you can add to it and together we can have fun making theories and see what happens in the next book.

Any rude misbehavior will not be tolerated/blocked

[emilystheories]

A (crack?) theory from my ACOSF reread:

What if Clotho was one of the first Valkyries…?

[ACOTAR spoilers ahead!]

In ACOWAR, we first meet Clotho, the High Priestess of the House of Wind library. “A long time ago,” Clotho was maimed by a group of men.

Notably, it was discovered that the men cut Clotho’s tongue and “smashed’ her hands so that she couldn’t tell anyone (orally or verbally) what the males had done to her.

This is almost certainly a reference to Shakespeare’s Titus Andronicus. In this play, a character named Lavinia is attacked by two men; they cut off her hands and cut out her tongue so that Lavinia was unable to name her attackers.

— — —

In ACOSF, we are then informed that Merrill — another priestess in the library — is currently compiling a complete history of the Valkyries.

In doing so, Merrill demands that Gwyn brings her Volume 7 of The Great War. Putting two and two together, one can assume that The Great War ties in with Merrill’s current Valkyrie research.

We later learn that the Valkyries died during the War, 500 years ago. As such, could it be possible that The Great War is the Valkyrie account of what happened during that long-ago war?

But, here’s the key point: The Great War was authored by someone named Lavinia.

Given what is outlined above, could Clotho be Lavinia? Is this her account of the war, from a Valkyrie’s perspective, that she wrote in her early days at the library?

— — —

We are never given Clotho’s age, but it’s presumed she has lived for a “long time.” If this theory is true, the timeline would be as follows:

Clotho is a Valkyrie, a fights in the war 500 years ago. Perhaps her original name was Lavinia?

Most Valkyries are killed, but Clotho is one of the survivors.

Some time later, post-war (likely after being displaced, and losing her community), Clotho runs into the men who assault her.

Mor rescues her, and Rhysand (a new High Lord) transforms the library to accommodate her and future traumatised women.

Clotho later compiles The Great War, but uses her original name (Lavinia) — perhaps to both honour her Valkyrie origins and to preserve her anonymity.

Some may rebut that as Mor (and Cassian) knew the Valkyries well, they would recognise Clotho when she first arrived. However, in ACOSF, SJM goes out of her way to state that Clotho’s face was so “battered and bloody” it “hadn’t looked like a face at all.”

Clotho (or Lavinia…?) was unrecognisable.

— — —

With this theory in mind: what if Clotho helped to “nudge” Nesta and Gwyn towards rebuilding the Valkyries?

As many in this fandom have noted, “Clotho” in Greek mythology is one of the Fates — a personification of destiny.

Although I don’t believe Clotho is a literal Fate in canon, what if it’s foreshadowing of her role in ACOSF?

For example:

Clotho directs Nesta to work on Level 5, the same level Gwyn is working on that day. This is where they first meet. Conversations about The Great War and the Valkyries spiral from there.

Clotho calls Cassian into the library to “scold” Nesta for practicing the Valkyrie training techniques, but Cassian and Nesta end up showing the other priestesses what’s involved — to show them it’s okay. Nesta believes this is her plan, though when the other priestesses (initially) don’t sign up for the training after this demonstration, Clotho is said to look sorrowful — as if she had a hand in the plan, too…

Clotho makes exemptions for Gwyn to not attend the priestesses “special” ceremony so that she can practice with Nesta and Emerie.

And, who can forget Clotho’s reaction to Gwyn first signing up for the training?

— — —

Most of all, this would lead to a beautiful twist and an emotional narrative in future books:

Clotho revealing she is Lavinia. Taking off her hood, if she so desires. Training with Nesta, Emerie, Gwyn and the other priestesses — with accessibility in mind for her hands. She would be shaky at first (having not trained for centuries!) but would slowly show the others what she was once capable of: fighting, shielding, attacking. A warrior reborn.

And then joining the Valkyries once more.

[koriandrprincessoftamaran]

I get it

E/riel’s have been disappointed & shook since the BC.

I understand there are aggressive shippers out there on all sides with ✨ ZERO ✨ emotional intelligence & can’t help themselves from being actual villains.

All that to say, the biggest difference between Elriel v. Gwynriel/Elucien is we do actually use canon with complete context & build upon that. Canon from multiple series most times. We’ve kept up with the story.. We actually understand the narrative THE AUTHOR is wanting to convey. It’s both.. iykyk

If Elriel’s actually follow cannon you’ll end up with chosen love (if Elain even gives him a chance after that BC), their powers don’t sing or dance for the other, Elain has a bond trailing her forever, & Az leaves Elain for his mate when his bond snaps (bc it’s canon he wants a mate bond. He straight up says he’s envious of RHYS & CASSIAN. Az, quite literally, waited 500 years for a MATING BOND to snap with Mor.).

It’s clear y’all don’t understand that Elain’s treatment of Lucien is NOT unique to Lucien as a character. She’d be treating Az the same way if that bond snapped in Hybern, the same way y’all don’t understand that Azriel’s visceral longing for a mate is NOT unique to Elain as a character.. the same way y’all don’t realize that if Lucien never said anything, y’all wouldn’t have your favorite scene of them sitting in the garden.

I’ve seen a few post lately saying we’ve read too many fanfics, have confused cannon, & that we’re envious of Elriel… that’s what’s prompted this rant lol… This take is rich coming from the ship that had fics with Azriel’s shadows playing/DANCING for Elain, only for that dream to be drowned in a muddy grave in chapter 60 & in the BC of ACOSF.. yet y’all still are out here trying to explain that away or try to spin it as a positive… An Elriel shipper had an artist commission them as Eric & Ariel. At first I thought that commission was supposed to be an uno reverse of irony & apparently it’s not, it was actually for Elriel month & intended to only have one level of irony… Who’s really envious & confusing canon here?

Never seen an Elucien post saying “Darn, I wish Lucien’s power didn’t come out when he was trying to get to Elain, I wish his power was absent around her like Az’s shadows. Shoot, I really wish Lucien didn’t give Elain incredibly thoughtful gifts for solstice & ask Fayre multiple questions about Elain so he could know her as a person. Really wish he didn’t fight his way through a battle field just to see Elain. Actually, I just wish Lucien didn’t think of Elain’s well being at all, he should’ve NEVER thought about her still not eating, how thin she was, & how much that look in her eyes worried him.”

Never seen a Gwynriel post saying “Aw man, I wish Azriel didn’t notice how Gwyn’s freckles crinkle on her nose when she smirks & I wish he didn’t bait her into a challenge like he did with the obstacle course. I really freaking hate that his shadows danced with Gwyn after we got direct confirmation they don’t do that for Elain. Darn, really wish Az thought of his hands tainting Gwyn when we got his PoV.”

It’s absolutely hilarious that they’ll try it when I have YET so see an Elucien proof of ship post that isn’t straight from the books (with the complete context of the quote) & have it not support the overarching narrative THE AUTHOR is wanting to convey regarding a fated mate.. I just.. y’all, it’s okay to be wrong.

If I need to spell it out for you, the overarching theme is ✨ like calls to like ✨ & the mating bond transcends all… I’d hope we all know this as we’ve had to read that saying 832 times & have 832 examples of mates CHOOSING to accept the bond after getting to know them & healing.

We speak with 100% conviction bc it’s OBVIOUS! Elucien’s have been nothing but validated by SJM each time she released a book building more tension for Elucien to explore.. ACOSF was 100% validation for her Elucien’s.. I see Elriel theories & posts all the time bc I follow the Azriel tags. I don’t engage unless the Elriel tag is missing bc I won’t hop on a post that’s obviously for their discussion & rants. Tho, when I do go snoop, I have never seen a Elriel theory or take that can’t be disproven BY THE BOOKS aka THE AUTHOR..

I get it

We’ve all waiting YEARS for SJM to finish a series & we want to see our characters HEA.

I have ✨ ZERO ✨ problem with yall shipping Elriel, it’s just the fact y’all still scream that “your book” is next.. Sweetheart, there’s no book… & it’s that y’all copy & paste Elucien/Gwynriel characteristics & dynamics onto your ship. Like, yall do realize the depth of irony you put yourselves in every.. single.. time?

Just enjoy your side of the fandom & understand that the ship YOU WANT can ONLY be achieved through fanfics or realize that your ship is actually just a pick’N’choose of Elucien & Gwynriel.

I’m sorry that I’m not sorry for considering y’all a joke at this point in the maasverse. Every Elriel take or “proof” I see ends with me laughing my ass off, bc it’s comedic gold the amount of hoops y’all need to jump through. Realistically, only thing Elucien’s & Gwynriel’s need to do is just sit back & wait. Because on this day of May 6th, 2024, we should know that something greater than the cauldron chooses mates, Elain & Lucien are STILL CONFIRMED TO BE MATES, Elain has yet to have an on page conversation with Lucien discussing the future of their bond, Azriel’s shadows still ONLY dance for Gwyn or Azriel, & Az’s chest still ONLY sparked for Gwyn…

ALAIS, Elucien’s have been trying to help manage y’all’s expectations since 2016 & now have us Gwynriel’s to back them up bc it’s allllll in the books babes! (We can pull evidence from all of her series that supports SJM’s theme of like calls to like, mating language, & mating behaviors to show actual proof of our ship)

Honestly, it doesn’t matter how much y’all try to “I know you are, but what am I?” us to death, it still won’t change the fact that after the CoN scene & chapter 60 in ACOSF, y’all should’ve just taken that L with grace & dignity..

I know the best thing to do is not engage or add to the flame & that they bait, I just can’t help it. I work in the legal field & arguing a point is in my blood! 💀 I get it, don’t yuck others yums, it’s just so funny that we are still neck deep in discourse with them about mates getting a book together… in a contracted fated mates series..

[soundkiller0017]

NTR RWBY (Not really)

Narrator: After Salem's defeat and the departure of Ozma our heroes are back in Beacon as students beacuse after Atlas fall the were 'tecnically' not licensed Huntress and Huntsman. So they were back in a rebuilded Beacon who was directed by Headmaster Qrow Braween (Glynda Goodwitch retire after the war ended.). Now in Beacons courtyard we can see the 4 year student Cardin Winchester who still thinks that Beacon was still the same from his 1 first year (he is wrong)

Cardin: Why does Arc, Pine, Ren, Wukong and Xiao Long have hot girlfriends and I the most cool and handsome student dosen't have nothing (he is coping)

Narrator: You see dear viewer, Cardin was obssed with a tag in his +18 content that was call NTR, so he thinks that he can steal and humilated a pearson, beacuse he thinks NTR is cool.

Cardins mind:

Ruby: Oh! Cardin, you are so sexy and hung! I will leave Oscar just to be with you!

Weiss: Same here! Cardin! You are more stronger and hung that the limp dick Jaune has!

Nora: Renny dosen't have the masculinity you have Cardin!

Velvet: I'm just a cum bucket for you master! Sun is a useless animal!

Blake and Yang: Master please! Please make us love dick again

Back to reality:

Cardin: Hahaha! Now all Beacon will see who is the real Giga Chad alpha male stud king of harems!

Narrator: Now with that 'boost' of motivation Cardin decide to 'steal away' the most beatifull women in Beacon

1st attemp: Ruby Rose

Cardin: Hey there sexy Rose!

Ruby visible cringening to the nickname: Hello Cardin. How are you?

Cardin: I'm good. But I heard that Pines is not plesurering you and he is nothing more than a loser femboy farmboy. So how about if I help you *tries to grab her butt* with tha-

Ruby who now is piss: HELL NO!! *grabs Cardin arm and throw him to the neares trashcan* NOBODY TALKS TRASH OF MY PRINCES!!! *goes to look for Oscar*

Cardin: *groans in pain*

2st Attemp: Weiss Schenne

Cardin: Hey Ice Queen!

Weiss not even looking at him and waiting for Jaune to both go to a date: Hello Winchester.

Cardin: I heard that Jauney Boy is not given you atten- *is converted in to a frozen statue*

Weiss: Yeah I know what follows Cardin. And no, I'm not interested in cheating or being close to you. And now that you excuse me, I must go to a date with me boyfriend *goes to where Jaune is waiting*

3th attempt: Nora Valkyrie

Cardin: Hey Valk- *Is hited by Magnhild in the balls*

Nora: NORA SCORES!!!

4th Attemp: Velvet Scarletina

Cardin: Hey there Slut Bunny!

Sun who was nearby: WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU CALLED MY GRILFRIEND BICHESTER!!!??

Cardin shakeking in fear: Nothing Wuko- *is attacked by Velvet with a copy of Crocea Mors*

Velvet: *ALOT of Austrilian insults and slurs* AND GET OUT!!! *grabs Sun abs and start making out with Sun*

5th and final attempt: Blake Belladonna and Yang Xiao Long

Cardin: Hey there bitches!

Blake and Yang who both are furriosly making out not even looking to Cardin: *Both punch Cardin to the orbit*

Later in the hospital

Narrator: And thus Cardin ended in the hospital for all his injuries. What was the moral of the story?

Cardin: Beacon woman are crazy?

Narrator: No you idiot! Is to not act like life is a fucking porno and you are the guy who NTR the MC you dumb fuck!

(Acclarations: I don't hate Cardin, is just that I hate when the use him for NTR, so I decide to create this post with the idea of what would really happend if NTR!Cardin try to steal away women in Beacon and failed misserable)

[marshmellowrio]

Flight of the Night | Chapter 4

A/N: A bigger one, this scene goes on forever, ughh. This hasn't been proofread, like every other chapter I have posted (oops?).

Word count: 3.5K

I watch as Feyre addresses Azriel, “How did you meet?” Azriel turns to look at Cassian, I follow his gaze. Cassian is a way better storyteller than Azriel, that’s fact.

“We all hated each other at first.” A grin ghosts over his lips as he starts, his eyes flickering between the four of us, Illyrians. “We are bastards, you know. Az and I. The Illyrians… We love our people, and our traditions, but they dwell in clans and camps deep in the mountains of the North, and do not like outsiders. Especially High Fae who try to tell them what to do. But they’re just as obsessed with lineage, and have their own princes and lords among them.” He holds my gaze before continuing, pointing a thumb in Azriel’s direction. “Az, was the bastard of one of the local lords. And if you think the bastard son of a lord is hated, then you can’t imagine how hated the bastard is of a war-camp laundress and a warrior she couldn’t or wouldn’t remember.” I see the casual shrug of his shoulders for what it is, a way to dampen the vicious, ancient anger raging through his veins at the thought of his mother. “Az’s father sent him to our camp for training once he and his charming wife realized he was a shadowsinger.”

“Like the daemati,” Rhys says to Feyre, “shadowsingers are rare—coveted by courts and territories across the world for their stealth and predisposition to hear and feel things other can’t.”

Something I have been wary of for centuries. Being secretive around Azriel was a feat not easily accomplished.

Cassian continues, “The camp lord practically shit himself with excitement the day Az was dumped in our camp. But me… once my mother weaned me and I was able to walk, they flew me to a distant camp, and chucked me into the mud to see if I would live or die.”

“They would have been smarter throwing you off a cliff,” Mor snorts.

“Oh, definitely,” Cassian says, his grin sharpening. “Especially because when I was old and strong enough to go back to the camp I’d been born in, I learned those pricks worked my mother until she died.”

A silence falls, simmering anger hanging like a cloud in the air.

“The Illyrians,” Rhys cuts in smoothly, “are unparalleled warriors, and are rich with stories and traditions. But they are also brutal and backward, particularly in regard to how they treat their females.”

Azriel’s vacant eyes lock on mine, my face schooled in a stone-cold expression.

“They’re barbarians,” Amren says and neither of the males object.

I keep silent as Mor nods. “They cripple their females so they can keep them for breeding more flawless warriors.”

Rhys cringes. “My mother was low-born, and worked as a seamstress in one of their many mountain war-camps. When females come of age in the camps—when they have their first bleeding—their wings are… clipped. Just a small incision in the right place, left to improperly heal, can cripple you forever.” I tell myself to keep breathing, keeping the memories at bay and listen to the story. A story I’ve heard countless times, but never becomes easier. “And my mother—she was gentle and wild and loved to fly. So she did everything in her power to keep herself from maturing. She starved herself, gathered illegal herbs—anything to halt the natural course of her body. She turned eighteen and hadn’t yet bled, to the mortification of her parents. But her bleeding finally arrived and all it took was for her to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time, before a male scented it on her and told the camp’s lord. She tried to flee—took right to the skies. But she was young, and the warriors were faster, and they dragged her back. They were about to tie her to the posts in the center of camp when my father winnowed in for a meeting with the camp’s lord about readying for the War. He saw my mother trashing and fighting like a wildcat, and… The mating bond between them clicked into place. One look at her, and he knew what she was. He misted the guards holding her.”

“Misted?” Confusion laces her voice. As Cassian chuckles sharply.

Rhys floats a lemon wedge into the air and flicks his finger, turning it into citrus-scented mist. I lean forward to catch the look on Feyre’s face, she takes misting entire beings better than I did the first time. She hasn’t seen him do it yet, but the insinuation of it, was enough to make me still when I realised the extent of Rhys’s powers.

“Through the blood-rain,” Rhys goes on, “my mother looked at him. And the bond fell into place for her. My father took her back to the Night Court that evening and made her his bride. She loved her people, and missed them, but never forgot what they had tried to do to her—what they did to the females among them. She tried for decades to get my father to ban it, but the War was coming, and he wouldn’t risk isolating the Illyrians when he needed them to lead his armies. And to die for him.”

“A real prize, your father,” Mor grumbles. I cast my head down, he never did me wrong. But his methods could be…harsh.

“At least he liked you,” Rhys counters. “my father and mother, despite being mates, were wrong for each other.” I grimace, I sometimes wonder how often a mating bond is set between two beings while they’re not right for each other. “My father was cold and calculating, and could be vicious, as he had been trained to be since birth. My mother was soft and fiery and beloved by everyone she met. She hated him after a time—but never stopped being grateful that he had saved her wings, that he allowed her to fly whenever and wherever she wished. And when I was born, and could summon the Illyrian wings as I pleased… She wanted me to know her people’s culture.”

“She wanted to keep you out of your father’s claws,” Mor says, swirling her wine. Azriel finally looks away from me and I let loose a breath, his memories finally clearing. I have no doubt I was involved in that memory from the way he had stared for the past few minutes.

“That, too,” Rhys adds drily. “When I turned eight, my mother brought me to one of the Illyrian war-camps. To be trained, as all Illyrian males were trained. And like all Illyrian mothers, she shoved me toward the sparring ring on the first day, and walked away without looking back.”

“She abandoned you?” I understand Feyre’s deduction but it still has me narrowing my eyes.

“No—never,” Rhys says, with as much ferocity as I felt for his mother’s memory. “She was staying at the camp as well. But it is considered an embarrassment for a mother to coddle her son when he goes to train.”

Cassian laughs, catching the look on Feyre’s face. “Backward, like he said.”

“I was scared out of my mind,” Rhys admits. “I’d been learning to wield my powers, but Illyrian magic was a mere fraction of it. And it’s rare amongst them—usually possessed only by the most powerful, pure-bred warriors.” His eyes flit to me and I give him a lopsided grin. “I tried to use a Siphon during those years. And shattered about a dozen before I realized it wasn’t compatible—the stones couldn’t hold it. My power flows and is honed in other ways.”

“So difficult, being such a powerful High Lord,” Mor teases.

Rhys rolls his eyes. “The camp-lord banned me from using my magic for all our sakes. But I had no idea how to fight when I set foot into that training ring that day. The other boys in my age group knew it, too. Especially one in particular, who took a look at me, and beat me into a bloody mess.”

“You were so clean,” Cassian says, shaking his head. “The pretty half-breed son of the High Lord—how fancy you were in your new training clothes.” I snort, I can totally imagine young Cassian thinking like that.

“Cassian,” Azriel’s dark voice cuts in, “resorted to getting new clothes over the years by challenging other boys to fights, with the prize being the clothes off their backs.” The flatness in his voice revealed how much he cared for the Illyrian ways.

Cassian chuckles, he had a completely different experience, just as horrifying, but different. “I’d beaten every other boy in our age group twice over already, but then Rhys arrived, in his clean clothes, and he smelled… different. Like a true opponent. So I attacked. We both got three lashings apiece for the fight.”

From my side of the table, I see Feyre flinch.

“They do worse, girl,” Amren cuts in, “in those camps. Three lashings is practically an encouragement to fight again. When they do something truly bad, bones are broken. Repeatedly. Over weeks.”

“Your mother willingly sent you into that?” Feyre asks with a soft voice. She has a lot to learn about Illyrians and their customs, I think to myself.

“My mother didn’t want me to rely on my power,” Rhys says. “She knew from the moment she conceived me that I’d be hunted my entire life. Where one strength failed, she wanted others to save me. My education was another weapon—which was why she went with me; to tutor me after lessons were done for the day. And when she took me home that first night to our new house at the edge of the camp, she made me read by the window. It was there that I saw Cassian trudging through the mud—toward the few ramshackle tents outside of the camp. I asked her where he was going, and she told me that bastards are given nothing: they find their own shelter, own food. If they survive and get picked to be in a war-band, they’ll be bottom-ranking forever, but receive their own tents and supplies. But until then, he’d stay in the cold.”

“Those mountains,” Azriel adds, his hard gaze locking on mine again, “offer some of the harshest conditions you can imagine.” I know he still feels guilty about what happened to me, but I only duck my head not being able to bear his loaded gaze.

“After my lessons,” Rhys ignores the exchanged looks, “my mother cleaned my lashings, and as she did, I realized for the first time what it was to be warm, and safe, and cared for. And it didn’t sit well.”

“Apparently not,” Cassian takes over. “Because in the dead of night, that little prick woke me up in my piss-poor tent and told me to keep my mouth shut and come with him. And maybe the cold made me stupid, but I did. His mother was livid. But I’ll never forget the look on her beautiful face when she saw me and said, ‘There is a bathtub with hot running water. Get in it or you can go back into the cold.’ Being a smart lad, I obeyed. When I got out, she had clean nightclothes and ordered me into bed.” She had done some good for all of us. “I’d spent my life sleeping on the ground—and when I balked, she said she understood because she had felt the same once, and that it would feel as if I was being swallowed up, but the bed was mine for as long as I wanted it.”

“And you were friends after that?”

“No—Cauldron no,” Rhys says. “We hated each other, and only behaved because if one of us got into trouble or provoked the other, then neither of us ate that night. My mother started tutoring Cassian, but it wasn’t until Azriel arrived a year later that we decided to be allies.”

Cassian’s grin stretches as he reaches around Amren to clap Azriel on his shoulder. A sigh falls from the shadowsinger’s lips and I smile fondly at the two of them. “A new bastard in the camp—and an untrained shadowsinger to boot. Not to mention he couldn’t even fly thanks to—”

I clear my throat interrupting him as Mor lazily cuts in, “Stay on track, Cassian.” He looks at the both of us, the apologize clear in his eyes, but he shrugged feigning indifference to Feyre. Mor kept her eyes on Cass as I shifted mine to Azriel, noting the tense shoulders and faraway look in his eyes.

“Rhys and I made his life a living hell, shadowsinger or no. But Rhys’s mother had known Az’s mother, and took him in. As we grew older, and the other males around us did, too, we realized everyone else hated us enough that we had better odds of survival sticking together.” Cassian finishes their story and I turn to Feyre.

“Do you have any gifts? Like—them?” She jerks her chin to Azriel and Rhys.

“A volatile temper doesn’t count,” Mor says and I grin at her, sometimes I wonder if we spent too much time together. Or if it’s Cassian that’s so predictable.

“No. I don’t—not beyond a heaping pile of the killing power. Bastard-born nobody, through and through.” I lean forward at the same time as Rhys, but Cassian continues, “Even so, the other males knew that we were different. And not because we were two bastards and a half-breed. We were stronger, faster—like the Cauldron knew we’d been set apart and wanted us to find each other. Rhys’s mother saw it, too. Especially as we reached the age of maturity, and all we wanted to do was fuck and fight.” I roll my eyes at that.

“Males are horrible creatures, aren’t they?” Amren says.

“Repulsive,” Mor clicks her tongue and I laugh softly.

Cassian only shrugs. “Rhys’s power grew every day—and everyone, even the camp-lords, knew he could mist everyone if he felt like it. And the two of us… we weren’t far behind.” He taps his Siphon with a finger. “A bastard Illyrian had never received one of these. Ever. For Az and me to both be appointed them, albeit begrudgingly, had every warrior in every camp across those mountains sizing us up. Only pure-blood pricks get Siphons—born and bred for the killing power. It still keeps them up at night, puzzling over where the hell we got it from.”

I feel Feyre’s eyes slide to me, probably remembering I am pure-blooded Illyrian. Cassian notes her gazing as well and confirms her suspicions. “ This fucking priss of a lady, as Rhys said, is the only pure-blooded Illyrian out of the four of us.”

“Shouldn’t you let her tell her own story?” I raise an eyebrow at Azriel’s low voice intercepting.

“If you are wondering,” I turn to Feyre properly. “I am not one of those, born and bred for that killing power.”

“You were bred for it.” Cassian intercepts, pointing out the fault in my statement.

I hum lowly, “While that may be true, sadly, for my parents anyway, I was born female. Not the son they wanted. My father is a camp-lord,” I see Feyre mentally note the present tense. “Although I was bred to kill, he wouldn’t allow me to train. He’s very traditional in that sense.”

Feyre’s gaze moves to my wings, trying to see if I bear any clipping marks, not that she’d know what to look for. Her scrutiny makes me tuck them tighter against me, straining the muscles as usual. “I haven’t been clipped.” Her gaze snaps up again to meet mine, my face void of emotion. ‘Rhys’s mother helped me in that matter, got me the illegal herbs she used herself when she was younger, stalling my cylcle. She helped me, along with these three, get away when my first bleeding came.”

“You got away.” It’s not a question. I frown, it doesn’t feel like that.

Cassian says, “Oh, she got away, alright.” Amren shoves his broad shoulder and I’m thankful for her respect for me.

“Something like that.” I respond to Feyre. Rhys and Azriel flinch in unison, I might’ve never actually talked about it, but they know.

Feyre furrows her brows, not able to hide her curiosity as to what went down all those years ago.

I don’t answer her questioning gaze, opting to stare at Rhys instead, I do not want to get into that with her on her first day with us. No matter how open Cassian is with her.

Azriel breaks the silence, taking over another part of the story. “Over a decade later, the War came. And Rhys’s father visited our camp to see how his son had fared after twenty years.”

“My father,” Rhys says, swirling his wine, “saw that his son had not only started to rival him for power, but had allied himself with perhaps the two deadliest Illyrians in history. He got it into his head that if we were given a legion in the War, we might very well turn it against him when we returned.”

Cassian snickers. “So the prick separated us. He gave Rhys command of a legion of Illyrians who hated him for being a half-breed, and threw me into a different legion to be a common foot soldier, even when my power outranked any of the war-leaders. Az, he kept for himself as his personal shadowsinger—mostly for spying and his dirty work. Turns out he already had Lyss in his tight quarters so she didn’t pose a threat to him. We only saw each other on battlefields for the seven years the War raged. They’d send around casualty lists among the Illyrians, and I read each one, wondering if I’d see their names on it. But then Rhys was captured—”

“That is a story for another time,” Rhys says sharply, making me lift my brows. We all had our boundaries in sharing past memories. Cass might be the most open one but that doesn’t mean he’ll tell her everything, there are some things even he wouldn’t tell her upon first meeting. “Once I became High Lord, I appointed these five to my Inner Circle, and told the rest of my father’s old court that if they had a problem with my friends, they could leave. They all did. Turns out, having a half-breed High Lord was made worse by his appointment of three females and two Illyrian bastards.”

“What—what happened to them , then?”

Rhys shrugs. “The nobility of the Night Court fall into three categories: those who hated me enough that when Amarantha took over, they joined her court and later found themselves dead; those who hated me enough to try to overthrow me and faced the consequences; and those who hated me, but not enough to be stupid and have since tolerated a half-breed’s rule, especially when it so rarely interferes with their miserable lives.”

“Are they—are they the ones who live beneath the mountain?” Feyre asks.

“In the Hewn City, yes. I gave it to them, for not being fools. They’re happy to stay there, rarely leaving, ruling themselves and being as wicked as they please, for all eternity.”

“The Court of Nightmares,” Mor says as all are faces grow tight, thinking about that horrid place.

“Ans what is this court?” Feyre gestures to all of us, and the darkness clears.

It was Cassian, who answers with bright eyes, “The Court of Dreams.”

Feyre contemplates for a moment. “And you?” She says, and I know it’s directed to us females.

Amren merely says, “Rhys offered to make me his Second. No one had ever asked me before, so I said yes, to see what it might be like. I found I enjoyed it.” Always a person of little words.

Mor leans back in her seat and I focus on her. “I was a dreamer born into the Court of Nightmares,” Mor says, twisting a curl around a finger. “So I got out.” I almost scoff at the simplicity of that statement. Her escape from the Hewn City was as simple as mine from the Illyrian camp.

I take a breath, “My father was camp-lord when those three were in the camp. Cassian was a nuisance, he followed me around everywhere to annoy my father. Even as a five-year-old he knew how to get on someone’s nerves.”

Cassian’s grin only reveals truth as he takes over. “And when Rhys and Az came to the camp, they joined in.” I purse my lips at his statement. “But she had fire, handed our asses to us, multiple times. Her father might’ve not let her train, that didn’t mean she didn’t find a way to do so anyway. Slowly, the annoyance turned into acceptance that we weren’t going to leave her alone as long as it meant pissing off her father.”

“He still seethes whenever we join her in the camp.” Rhys adds.

I smirk, “He still seethes because I outrank him now.” I hold Feyre’s gaze and see she knows there’s more to the story than what we’re telling, so I give her another crumble. “I am Cassian’s Second, Colonel of the Illyrian armies.”

A/N: Let me know what you thought! Maybe any theories on how this story is going to progress? Obviously this is a romance fanfic (I'm sorry if you didn't realise that already), but I wanted to give my character some depth and not just have her exist because of her love interest. Do keep in mind this is a slow-slow-burn. It will be some time before we will be happy go lucky, not to say that there won't be any tension. Because there will be, a lot of it. If you want to be added to the taglist, please leave a comment saying so!

Taglist: @inloveallthetime @mybestfriendmademe

[shadowqueenjude]

Hiiii!! First your posts give me life!!! I’m always waiting for the next one because I know you’re going to spit gems and speak facts 💁‍♀️.

I have a question/thought about the mates situation. People keep saying SJM will be exploring the rejected mating bond concept, specifically in Elain’s book….When did she say that? WHERE? From what I’ve seen and read, she did say it was an interesting concept (fate, mating bond vs agency and all that good stuff) but she also said she didn’t know if she would be exploring it in the future, let alone in Elain’s book or the ACOTAR series. So HOW in the world do people take that as a confirmation that she will absolutely do it in Elain’s book? Even the whole “what if the cauldron is wrong” argument. Well maybe she’ll use Elain’s book to demonstrate that in fact the cauldron is never wrong because it actually doesn’t decide anything. This frustrates me to no end.

Anyway, keep slaying Queen 💅!

My dear Anon, we shall have an Autumn wedding.

This is what SJM said:

“That’s something I find to be very interesting,” she replies. “What if the forces that be put you with the wrong person? Or what if you just decide, eh, I’m not interested. … There’s a lot to explore within the concept of mates and your agency about it. 

“I’m not going to say if I am exploring it in future books or not,” she continues, “but it definitely offers a wealth of things to explore with this concept of freewill and what is true love. Is it something that’s destined? Or is it something that you make? Is it both?”

She did NOT confirm that she would be exploring it at ANY point!!!! I do NOT know why people are acting like it is a guarantee.

What if the Cauldron was wrong? COULD be foreshadowing yes, but the answer is rarely that obvious LMAO. Amren told Nesta that there were other ways to fight beside a sword, but Nesta became a warrior. Most likely it's talking about Elain. So is it really so hard to believe that this is NOT talking about Elain at all, but someone else entirely?

The three most likely options for a rejected mating trope are as follows:

LoA-Helion: we get to explore the pain and angst of knowing a mate has married and had children with another, and dealing with the rejected trope for centuries, but will eventually get together in the end. SJM is not about to give Lucien's parents a tragic ending lmfao. And in her world, rejected mates=tragedy.

Mor-Eris: if we go in the direction that mating bonds can only occur between males and females and Mor and Eris are both gay, so they can never have feelings for each other. In which case we explore the difficulties associated with a bond that neither person wants yet the instincts are still there.

Tamlin-Amarantha: did anyone wonder WHY tf Amarantha was so obsessed with Tamlin? Like, I know he's hot and all, but goddamnit girl what the fuck? Now, if they were mates and Tamlin rejected her, it would make sense. It would also add more nuance to Tamlin AND Amarantha's characters, and we'd get to explore Tamlin's trauma post-UTM after being forced to reject and kill his mate and how that drove him a little mad.

But, the rejected bond is NOT a guarantee, so there may NOT be any rejected bonds. These are all just theories at this point. One thing I am CERTAIN of is that the rejected bond will CERTAINLY NOT be Elain and Lucien. Especially not when SJM dangled Gwyn in front of us. Now THAT one is fucking obvious lol.

[just-a-ghost00]

Tarot spread suggestion (3)

The compatibility grid

This spread is used to figure out how you and a person connect romantically and see if you could be satisfied with the dynamic of such a connection. Just like in previous posts like this one, I will use my situation as an example. To simplify the reading I will refer to myself as A and to the other as B.

A’s perception of love | 6 The Lovers B’s perception of love | 6 of pentacles How the perceptions connect | 0 The Fool

Here we see that even without the bridging card there is a similarity in how both view love with the repetition of the number six. Both individuals value partnership and equity in that aspect. While A sees love as a dialogue between two souls with a reciprocity in terms of communication and spiritual wave lengths, B sees love as a journey between two companions that equally give and take in order to reach their destination. Both agree on the fact that it takes two to tango but they value different spheres of the partnership. Basically it’s a heart vs mind situation. A is in the mental realm whereas B is in the heart realm. The connecting energy is one of acceptance and faith, of curiosity and renewal. So both view love as an adventure, a new canvas or chapter that needs to be created together.

What A needs from a partner | Black Numen What B needs from a partner | King of wands Connecting energy | 7 Chariot

A needs depth. A deep sense of transformation and a feeling of overcoming their shadows, triumphing over their demons. Utter loyalty and support even through the darkest of times. A needs raw passion. A love that is so powerful it cannot be tamed nor questioned. A needs to see that they are adored beyond sanity. That their partner needs them just as much as they need their partner. A is very demanding in love and asks for complete devotion in a partnership. If they do not feel loved as they desire, A can tend to sabotage the connection or be extremely harsh on themselves.

B needs a whole lot of passion and drive. A huge amount of trust and thrill. B wants a partner that will follow them in whatever decision they male and be confident about their ability to succeed. B asks for devotion as well. But contrary to A, B can survive without their partner’s trust as they have enough confidence in themselves. B also asks for a partner that can take the lead and reassure them when they are not at their best. B asks for an equal whereas A may be needing a savior or a healer.

The connecting energy shows that despite their different needs both need a partner that works with them and not against them. Both need to see that they and their person are moving in the same direction, looking at the same goals and progressing at the same pace. Both need a fair exchange and a feeling of being on the same level, being on the same team despite their contradictions. Both need space as well as trust and the opportunity to explore within the connection.

How A expresses love | Ace of Swords How B expresses love | 15 The Devil Connecting energy | 8 of pentacles

A expresses love mainly through words of affirmation. They constantly feel the need to talk it out. They are the kind to tell their partner straight to their face that they love them. They are also the kind to text regularly, to write letters and leave post it notes on their lover’s desk to remind them of how perfect they are. A is very communicative and demonstrative. They are very cerebral so they put a lot of thought into the ways they show love. They are very versatile and can switch their way of expressing love depending on their partner’s style but at the end of the day, they will always mainly remain vocal. They may also show affection through physical touch or gift giving as this will prove how thoughtful they can be.

B on the other hand is more practical and grounded, sensual. B will tend to show love through acts of services and gift giving. B is not the touchy feely type. Their reserved nature calls for a more discreet demonstration of affection. B thinks that words disappear but actions remain a solid proof of their love. If B says something, they want to make sure they have what it takes. So rather than telling, they want to embody love. B will be the kind to anticipate their partner’s needs and complete tasks for them without being asked to do so. B will take on more responsibilities to ensure their partner doesn’t have to. That would typically show on a financial level. B would spoil their partner, give massages, cook for them and bring breakfast in bed. B would not only embody love but also make love. B is all about tangible things that cannot be ignored.

If both have a very different love language, they bond over the desire to work hard in connections to ensure the longevity of it. Both are very giving and generous with their time and energy, mature enough to get to work and improve should it be needed. Both are very adamant on taking the time and space to include their partner in their life and make the connection a priority. Both are very dedicated lovers who at the end of the day only wish to love and be loved in return. A and B are connected by their grounded approach and perseverance in love.

[tealmisthams]

A mistletoe ask ❤️

Rex/Ahsoka - 5 and 7

Tech/Phee - 16

Thank you so much for writing! 🥰

Here's your TechPhee request! It was my first time writing them, so I was super excited when I saw your ask! 💙

It's also here on AO3.

I'll post your other requests later on. I'm trying to organize my drabbles, so the pairings are spread out somewhat evenly (if that makes any sense).

--

“Glad to see you guys came,” Phee said, as she walked up to where Hunter, Wrecker, and Omega were scanning the buffet table at the edge of Pabu’s main village plaza.

“I’ve never celebrated a holiday before!” Omega told her, excitedly.

A pang of sympathy struck Phee’s chest at the young girl’s words. Life Day wasn’t unique to Pabu, though of course Pabu had its own unique traditions that distinguished its celebrations from that of other planets. Even so, Phee had been afforded the opportunity to enjoy Life Day nearly every year of her life so far. The reminder that Omega had never had that chance at all, until now, made Phee all the more glad that she had brought her and the Batch to Pabu in the first place.

“Well, you can experience it now,” Phee said, warmly. “You can eat whatever you want here and then there are a bunch of games on the far end of the plaza.” She gestured to each location accordingly.

Omega immediately spun towards the direction of the games and then whipped her head back around to cast a pleading look at Hunter.

“Can I go play?” she asked, her brown eyes big and round, as if he would even consider saying “no.”

“Go on,” Hunter said, with a small chuckle.

Omega’s eyes immediately brightened and she turned to grasp Wrecker’s hand. The large clone was so engrossed in the pastry he was devouring that it took him a moment to realize his little sister was tugging on his arm.

“Come on , Wrecker, let’s go!” Omega huffed impatiently. She pulled harder on his arm, but it didn’t move the larger clone in the slightest.

“Oh, sure! Let’s go!” As Wrecker swallowed the remainder of his dessert, he finally allowed Omega to drag him away across the plaza.

“So,” Phee turned back to Hunter, once his siblings were out of earshot, “Did Brown Eyes come with you?”

Hunter’s eyes sparked knowingly, but Phee didn’t care. She’d never exactly been shy about her attraction to his brother.

“Yeah, he’s over there.” Hunter gestured towards the large tree in the center of the plaza.

Tech was seated on the stone wall that surrounded the tree, his head tilted forward as he tapped something into his datapad. One of the tree branches hung lower than the rest and suddenly Phee’s eyes were drawn to the little green and white plant that was hanging above Tech’s head. He must have no idea. That won’t do.

“I think I’ll go pay him a visit.”

Hunter just gave her a casual wave as she excused herself and made her way over to where Tech was seated.

“You might want to watch where you’re sitting, Brown Eyes,” Phee commented, as she approached.

Tech didn’t react at first, but his eyes flicked up to meet hers at the sound of his nickname. She let herself hope that was a good sign.

“What do you mean?” he asked, lowering his datapad slightly.

Phee plopped down beside him, close enough for their shoulders to brush. She felt a small tingle of pleasure when he didn’t shift away. Small victories.

“Do you know what that is?” She pointed at the plant hanging above their heads.

Tech followed her gaze. “That is mistletoe.” Of course he knew what it was.

“Well, in case you didn’t know, there’s a tradition that goes with it. If two people are under the mistletoe, they have to kiss.”

She paused, waiting for a response, but for some reason Tech just stared back at her. She leaned towards him slightly, further encouraged when he still didn’t move away. He remained frozen as Phee closed the distance and placed a light kiss on his cheekbone.

When she sat back, she had to stifle a chuckle. Tech was still staring at her and now the skin on his face had brightened to an intense shade of red. After a couple more heartbeats, he seemed to snap back to reality.

“Actually,” Tech began, clearing his throat, “the tradition states that the man is supposed to kiss the woman under the mistletoe.”

What?

Before Phee could process Tech’s correction, he was already leaning in and pressing their lips together. 

The kiss started off light, but quickly intensified and it wasn’t long before Phee was beginning to feel lightheaded, both from enchantment and from lack of oxygen. She doubted Tech had much experience with physical affection and yet it wasn’t at all surprising that he was as skilled at kissing as he was at everything else.

When they broke apart and their brown eyes locked, Phee felt heat rush to her cheeks, as if Tech had somehow passed his blush to her through their kisses.

“Thank you for correcting me,” she said quietly, still trying to catch her breath. They were still sitting incredibly close and she took the opportunity to reach for his hand.

“You are welcome.”

He tightened his hand around hers, threading their fingers together, and she was pretty sure she saw his brown eyes flick down towards her lips again.

--

The Mistletoe Drabble requests are still open! Review the pairing and prompt options here, and send in an ask!

[eri-pl]

Religion and Silm philosophical preferences - poll results.

That poll where I asked whether you're religious and whether you prefer Manwe or Melkor. The results are not surprising, but not extremely strong. Also, exactly 100 people voted which saved me one step of the process (converting % to number of votes).

Thank you everybody for voting! I mean, thank you in general, for all the polls, but this one had a rather personal question, and still got many votes. So, thank you especially for this.

1/3 of people in my reach identify as religious, 1/2 as non-religious. Also, a bit above 1/2 voters prefer Manwe, and a bit below 1/3 prefer Melkor. However, the correlation isn't as strong as one may expect.

(Also, the beginning was a "religious" sweep, I wonder if it's a matter of a particular hour or something else (more direct reach?) One day when I'm out of ideas for Silm posts, I may try to check it.)

Religious people prefer Manwe or (both? none?). Other options have a mor even split between those two, and fewer undecided votes.

When we compare results if those two variables were independent with the actual results, we get:

People who identify as religious don't prefer Melkor to Manwe. Which is not surprising. (They do, however, have a bit more of equal preference votes, as other groups. Which is still not much.) The other differences follow from this, I guess.

Edit: I think I finally figured out how to do a chi squared... and turns out that the result above is not statistically significant. Huh.

I wonder if the "equal" was more "both" or "none" or varied. I may do a 3x3 poll on "religious / like Manwe" and "religious / like Melkor". (No, those questions aren't absurd or as obvious as they seem.) Or I may not, I have a poll ongoing that may help solve this mystery.

Also, one day I will post a compilation of many polls that had a variant of "do you like Melkor?". They have surprisingly different results, I suppose a lot depends on wording of the poll.

[fieldofdaisiies]

Little Star

ship: Feysand type: fluffy drabble word count: 1,02k words warnings: none summary: baby Nyx's 1st Starfall for @officialfeysandweek2023 💜 set post-canon

"Make a wish." Her voice is like the softest whispers, as it dances on the wind, the cool night breeze caring it right to her mate's ears. 

"I am sorry, I can‘t." Rhys rests his chin on top of Feyre’s head, arms curling around both her and baby Nyx. "Because everything I‘ve ever hoped for is right here in my arms. There is no more wish I could have."

His arms are like a thick coat in winter, warm and soothing, providing comfort and safety. The High Lord is right — everything one could ever hope for is right here. Right here on this balcony. 

The landscape below is is dark, but the night sky is lit by many passing stars that feel like whispers in the darkness, telling tales and secrets of old times. Each one is a fleeting sparkle, glowing and illuminating a small part of the darkness. The House of Wind is dark behind them, so everyone's focus can be on the sky. 

"This," Rhysand says as he lowers his gaze for a moment, "is the kind of darkness I was talking about. The one that is restful, peaceful, soothing." He kisses the top of Feyre's head. "And in this peaceful darkness, it is not the travelling spirits in the sky, but the two who are the brightest lights in my life, darling." 

A single tear leaves the corner of Feyre's eye, leaning her head to the side so she can rest it on Nyx's head. "You are, Rhysand."

The night sky above them looks like a puzzle that keeps changing every second, with stars moving by, leaving their shimmer behind. 

"Da!" Nyx babbles, suddenly, kicking out his tiny feet, his little hands frantically waving when a shimmering shooting star passes right above their heads. He looks after it, eyes aglow just like the travelling spirit and starts to bounce up and down in his mother's arms. "Ma!"

"Your first Starfall, my little star," Feyre hums and presses a soft kiss to the giggling baby in her arms. She looks at him for a long moment, her heart swelling once again. "Maybe, I do have a wish though."

Speaking it out loud is bad luck, so Feyre only opens her sense to her mate, lowering her mental shields. I want the brightest future for Nyx. I want no obstacles in his life. I want him to ever be happy and joyful. And I want him to find the same love I found in you.

Feyre closes her eyes, relaxing back against Rhysand's solid chest. He hums, and kisses the side of her head. "I will wish for the same thing, darling."

His own eyes close for a moment, nothing but the calm chatter of their family and some soft music in the distance surrounding them. 

It is later on, when more spirits start to travel, that Feyre hands their baby boy to his father, and accepts a glass of wine from Mor. 

Rhysand lovingly cradles his little son in his arms. Nyx's eyes are still wide with awe as he gazes at the spectacle above. Wine glass in one hand, Feyre rests her other hand gently on her baby boy's back, a bright smile on her lips. 

Nyx's eyes shimmer with wonder as he excitedly points to the stars, bouncing up and down in Rhysand's strong arm. "Dada!" he babbles, giggling and squealing and pointing at every travelling spirit on the night sky. 

Rhysand's eyes always follow the direction, for every passing spirit he shares little Nyx's excitement. "Exactly, this one, little star, is yours," Rhys chuckles, now also pointing at different shimmering lights in the sky. Nyx squeals happily, drumming his little hands and feet against his father's chest. 

But all of a sudden it happens. Something bright and glowing heads right into their direction. Before Rhysand can turn him and Nyx away it —something sparkly, blinding and tinkling— hits the High Lord's face, little droplets also splashing onto baby Nyx's face who squeals at first. Then he looks shocked, eyes wide, lips quivering. But Feyre is quickly there to comfort him, rubbing his back and mumbles soothing words, while a radiant smile is plastered on her face. She is delighted, her mate and little baby boy looking just too adorable with the glowing dust on their faces.  

"Oh, baby," she says, "did a traveling spirit hit you, huh?"

"And what about me?" Rhys huffs, faking a dramatic pout. But it does not stay on his face for long before it turns into a full toothy grin. 

A whole hearted laugh escapes Feyre's face, taking in the colourful and twinkling dust on Rhysand's face. Rhysand soon joins in, his chest rumbling when he looks back at little Nyx. 

The High Lord loves his son's fascination, cuddling him even a little tighter so Nyx can drag his little finger through the colour on his face. 

"Dada," Nyx squeals again, his little wings wiggling on his back. He is bouncing once again, fingers full of the colourful glimmer as he reaches them up to his father's face. 

"Well, buddy, this is Starfall. Full of shimming and twinkling spirits that pass over our heads." 

Rhys squeezes him, and places a gentle kiss to the top of Nyx's head. 

Turning fully to her son and mate, Feyre says, "Isn't it beautiful, sweetheart? Aren't you beautiful?" She giggles softly, the sound warming Rhysand's heart just like the babbly noises that escape Nyx. The little boy beams at his mother, then once again at Rhys. 

And as the High Lord gazes at his little son, a single tear also slips out the corner of his eye. How did he ever get so lucky?

He blinks rapidly, his throat a little dry all of a sudden. 

"Starfall is proof for all the wonders in your world, but the biggest wonder, the greatest gift, I hold in my arms, my little star."

As if he is already able to understand his father's words, Nyx let his head rest against his father's chest, snuggling tightly to him. A contented sigh parts his little mouth when his eyes close. 

~~~~~~~~~

tag list: @girlinglass999  @autumndreaming7 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @brekkershadowsinger

[panpuchi]

What's the DTIYS you're making about?

Like- do you need to draw something?

If yes who?

Sorry if I sound dumb lol

ꗃ logging on... loading..... ❀ oak is online !! ❀ ╰┈➤

its ok!! you dont sound dumb!! i’ll just explain it in more detail for people who are still confused.

a dtiys means “draw this in your style”. the image that i have attached to the DTIYS post is the image you must RECREATE in your style. you cannot change the character, nor the skin color, hair color, ect. you can change the outfit SLIGHTLY, as in make it a dress or give her tights or body suit you CANNOT change that it is christmas themed, nor can you change that the character is baking cookies again, the drawing needs to be RECREATED in your style. basically you’re making a copy of it but in your style i also advise that you should read the directions and i will be making a code word for the next dtiys i do to make sure you guys read the directions… post in question

[wreckitremy]

i would like to hear. about ur special interest

Hmm, well currently I'd say selkies are my special interest bc right now I feel like pulling an um actually about them.

Selkies are an irish/scottish mythological creature.

They are seals that can take off their skin/pelts (usually referred to as coats in their mythology) to be a human.

They cannot return to the sea without their coat. If you catch a selkies coat, the mythology says that they will fall in love with you. But if they find their coat, they will leave and never return.

Most of their stories involve teaching people about not controlling people, and letting them be themselves.

My sources of selkie stories are

The Secret of Roan Inish (1994 movie based on the 1957 scottish book Secret of the Ron Mor Skerry)

The Song of the Sea (2014 movie by Cartoon Saloon, an Irish animation studio)

Tales of the seal people: Scottish Folk Tales edited by Duncan Willamson

Basically, there's not a lot of accessible info out there about them. But there has been some things in some modern stories trying to include selkies, that don't quite get the vibes of selkies right.

It's not that they are getting the mythology, wrong necessarily. It's about to equivalent the variety of changes werewolves and vampires have had, just on a much smaller scale. However they bug me so I'm gonna rant about why.

Selkie mermaids

As a hybrid, or a version of a mermaid with a seal tail instead of a fish tail. It's a cool concept, and not really bad on its own.

The problem is when people think that a selkie mermaid IS a selkie. The whole point of a selkie is being able to take off their coat and look human. Having the selkie be both human and seal at the same time changes what their purpose is.

Rules about when they can take off their coat, that are similar to Davy Jones in pirates of the Caribbean

Selkies are like fae in that they are unpredictable, but they do not have rules that strict. Selkies represent humanity's relationship to the sea. They are the tides, the waves, & the currents.

They have patterns, but if you try to rein them in, you will only have yourself to blame.

Also these kinds of stories make land seem more enticing by doing this, which is not really selkie vibes. They are curious about land and people, but about as much as a cat is, bc selkies are autistic coded (i wrote a whole post about that already actually).

Giving selkies with the Soulmate AU treatment

While selkies stories are about relationships, their stories are not about "finding the one".

Most of the stories, selkies are not looking for a relationship at all. Their stories tend to have the message of "if you love them, let them go". They kind of follow the plot of things like the song The Willow Maid (but instead of fading into a flower, they disappear into the sea)

Granted, Song of the Sea, does lean a bit in this direction, but it still has the vibe there, if you know to look for it. There is love there, but love is lost in many different ways due to the need for control. It's giving up that control that allows that love to not disappear into the sea completely.

Anyway that's my opinion on selkies. I've been obsessed with them since before I can remember, and I thought I had run out of things to say about them after my post about them being autistic coded, but omg this got long

[honeybewrites]

Writing Share/WIP Wednesday Tag

Thank you @kaylinalexanderbooks for the tag and @the-golden-comet for the tag!! I'm using this for my Wednesday posting schedule. Two birds, one stone, all of that.

Rules: share some writing!

I recently redid Rage and 703's first interaction and figured I'd post that! I think I've posted some snippets from it before, but this is the "full" scene, or at least until a scene change. Or I decide to rewrite it again...

Anyway! Hovering at about 1k, so a little long, but most of my posts are haha! Enjoy :D

The projections suddenly disappeared, vanishing like ghosts. Taking off the headset, there was no one else in the training cube. She knew better than to think it was a malfunction. No. Her training had been stopped for a reason. Taking off the rest of the gear, she set everything aside, standing and waiting in the center of the small room. Hands clasped behind her. Back straight, staring ahead mutely. Waiting for whoever would deliver her next orders. Two minutes later, she heard Master Gerd’s footsteps. Followed by another pair she didn't know. The steps were heavy, long strides. Highly likely to be another male, though not a Master she was familiar with. The door to the cube opened. Master Gerd walked in, followed by a man. He was tall. Well built. Not as old as Master Gerd, but at least middle aged. Suntanned skin, white and gray shoulder length hair pulled back in a bun. A goatee completed the look. He didn’t wear the standard Mors black suit, but his clothes were certainly expensive and protective. The intricate knife on his belt and bulging bag with the Mirralian government insignia told her he was a respectable figure. One that was well above herself. But his eyes… they were like brewing storm clouds. Dark, dark gray, with a hint of white lightening when the light hit them right. Only there was no ferocity in them. They were gentle. Like soft rain in early spring. It was odd, to see that gentleness in a man’s eyes. What was more strange, was the fact he smiled upon entering the room. One that reached his eyes. Perhaps there was something wrong with him. What man would smile upon seeing her? Other than a perverted one she was tasked with seducing. Though his smile didn’t look like a perverted one. “She’s efficient. Loyal. Well trained and obedient. She won’t be near as difficult as your last Asset,” Master Gerd said to the man before turning to her. “Due to your increased injuries and… questionable mission tactics, you are being assigned a field handler.” She had become more careless in her missions. Leaving more messes and bodies behind. Coming back bloodier each time. Master Gerd had been growing more frustrated with it. Especially over her lack of tidiness. He’d said as much. Repeatedly. He couldn’t punish her directly for it, since she completed her missions effectively, but that hadn’t stopped him from finding other things to punish her for. The message was still clear. The momentary death and reviving needed after her last mission must have been the final straw. Though assigning her a field handler seemed a bit… unorthodox. She had grown more messy, true, but her completion rate had skyrocketed. She was completing missions normally reserved for squads or duos, alone, well under the allowed timeframe. Especially compared to before… no. Those weren’t things she should be thinking about. It wasn’t her place to question orders. She was trained to follow them. Nothing more. “This is Master Ronan Airvix. You will treat him with proper respect and you will obey his orders, just as you do mine. If I hear of disobedience, there will be serious consequences, is that understood?” “Yes sir,” she said listlessly. “You’ve been assigned another mission. Debrief and objective has been sent to your comm. Airvix will be accompanying you. You leave tomorrow morning.” “Yes sir.” He turned back to Master Airvix, waving a hand in her direction. “Do what you will with her until then. She’ll comply. Though try not to do too much damage to her before departure.” Master Airvix laughed. Forced and uncomfortable. “Of course. Anything I need to know about her history?” “Her file has been sent to you. If you have further questions you may ask Healer Asurr, myself, or her if you wish. Though she likely won’t know the answers you want. She’ll need three hours before departure to prepare her gear and stop in Physical for her pre-check.” “Right, got it.” Master Gerd left without another word. The door didn’t make a sound as it closed behind him. Leaving Master Airvix and her alone.

She kept her position. Waiting for his instructions. “I know Gerd introduced me as ‘Master Ronan Airvix’ but you can just call me Rage.” He chuckled a little. Hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Most people do. Nickname I earned myself in healing school. Uh, what else? Oh, I’m Mirralian, certified healer, and uh, I’m blind. Wasn’t born blind, result of an accident, but I’ve learned to live with it. Doesn’t stop me from ‘seeing’ and it’s helpful at times. What about you? What’s your name?” “Asset 703,” she said.  She wasn’t quite sure what to make of his little rambling about himself. Perhaps he just liked to hear himself talk? No. That didn’t seem to fit his personality. It seemed to make him uncomfortable if anything. So why would he bother? “Well, yeah I know your number, but what’s your name?” “Asset 703,” she repeated. This must be some kind of test. She didn’t have a name. Or at least, she wasn’t supposed to. Her number was all the identification she needed. Master Gerd had punished her many times when he caught her responding to a name.  Her name would never be spoken aloud again. It would remain buried deep in the crevices of her mind. Right next to the memories of them. She would keep those memories safe. Far out of the reach of the Mors. It was the only thing she had left to remember them by.  “Don’t the other Assets call you something else?” He asked. Brow scrunched. Frowning. “I’ve seen them call each other names before.” Many of the Assets did have names for each other. Most of the Masters didn’t mind. Even Master Gerd turned a blind eye to it.  But they were just Assets. She was different.  The other Assets didn’t talk to her, nor she them. If she was assigned a mission with them, they avoided her. She returned the favor and kept to herself. She was well aware her presence was unnatural. Disorienting. Unfavorable. There was no need for her to be close with anyone. She had learned her lesson on relationships well. Never again. “I go by A-703.” He shrugged. Eyeing her oddly, but otherwise accepting the answer. “Gerd said you have to report to Physical for a pre-check?” “Yes sir.” “Er, you don’t have to call me ‘sir.’ Rage is just fine, really.”  Was this some other test? To make sure she showed him the proper respect? Did she continue addressing him as Master Airvix and disrespect his wish? Or did she address him as Rage as he asked her too and disregard proper honorifics and manners? Either way could be perceived as insubordination.  “Might as well go to Physical now if you’re done here. I need a few things from them and I want to know you resting levels.” He started walking towards the door, talking still. She followed. “Gerd had mentioned something about you having genetic altercations? Something about Asurr working with you?” “Healer Asurr is my primary healer.” They were far more than her primary healer. She was still unsure how much information this man was granted. If he was digging for information, and he used it, linking it back to her, Master Gerd would have a serious punishment for her. It would be best if she remained quiet. Observed. Until Master Gerd had given her clearer instructions.

First off, tagging @nczaversnick @yourpenpaldee @wyked-ao3 @elsie-writes and anyone else who wants to hop on!!

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