fenra-bookswritings

[fenra-bookswritings]

Duskwood Recap

I'm currently playing Duskwood again and the thought occurred to me:

Shit, isn't it crazy that we actually joined the group without any background knowledge and then basically just followed leads like the police would have done.

I mean, with everything we know now, after the end of the game... so bruuh we were actually just doing police work. And we could only do that because of Jake. Otherwise we wouldn't have been able to find any information.

I keep imagining what Richy must have been thinking while we uncovered everything bit by bit xD

[fenra-bookswritings]

MOONVALE - my (un)popular opinion of the game so far

•••◇••••••◇••••••◇••••••◇••••••◇•••

1 Gameplay and Design

I thought a good starting point would be the general stuff. I know that there have been many discussions about it, but I have not read everything in depth. I know the basics tho

In short, I had no problem with the way they designed the game. Duskwood was simple, there weren't that many pop-ups or the profile editing area. It seemed clean. Just the story and a few fun extra options to choose from. Moonvale, on the other hand, was almost overloaded. The design and the way the app works was a lot. Not bad, but more than we were used to with Duskwood. Diamond system, AI images, suddenly everything seemed like you had to spend a lot of money to buy diamonds..

Completely understandable, but! None of it is a MUST. No matter how much money you have available, you don't have to spend anything. You get coins from the mini-games and you can exchange that for a diamonds. You also get diamonds by completing the tasks and when you finish the episode and start again, you even get a whole bunch of diamonds.

Of course me personally, I don't find the mini-games difficult. I usually get through pretty well with the 5 hearts we have. And if not, you can wait a little while and do something else. The episode development takes a year anyway, you can repeat the game as often as you want and each time you get more diamonds, which you can accumulate early for the new episode. So there's really no need to spend money, unless you want to.

We should also not forget that the studio was still at the beginning with Duskwood. They learned programming and new features during development. That is why the episodes were much shorter and the storytelling much faster. And the tension therefore higher. With the start of Moonvale, they were no longer newbies; they now know more and have more experience. The episodes are much, much longer and the story is also drawn out as a result. There are now opportunities to lay more red herrings, perhaps even to include less important dialogue. I find the development very exciting so far. There are so many possibilities for how it can continue that the scope for speculation is really gigantic. There are still characters missing and more are being added all the time. Moonvale is gigantic compared to Duskwood and seems to be going in many directions, which is what makes it so exciting.

But I can well imagine, and I feel the same, that many people want to finally meet Jake again and that is perhaps why the story, or the game itself, only feels half-finished for some?

That brings me to the Characters

‼️Spoiler included ‼️

2 Charakters

The characters so far feel pretty authentic to me. I think we've gotten a good insight, as far as possible, into the different personalities and know where someone comes from. A certain amount of superficiality is of course given due to the early stages. I mean, so far everything revolved around one night (Friday) and in the second episode we've arrived on the next day, Saturday. You can't expect any deep, all-explaining dialogues xD

Eric

Eric is our guide through and into the group. He introduces us to his friends and is also the one we talk to the most during the search for Adam. For me, the relationship with him feels a little deeper than with the rest of the characters, I guess? Like we were already friends. The way we communicate with Eric reminded me in some parts of going through all the information with Jake. That's probably why the relationship felt so natural. We immediately looked for clues and were in the process of collecting everything we could.

However, his character sometimes felt like he was there primarily to guide us through the case. After all, most of the time we talked to him we were giving instructions or just looking for Adam.

That's probably because the others didn't have to walk their way through the pitch black forest. For that we had a few more relaxed conversations and could get more deeper into the characters as such.

Charlie

With Charlie, for example, we immediately got the impression that he knows Redlog, is notorious and overdoing it sometimes. He also seems to have a suitable story ready for every moment.

I find him pretty funny so far, although his behavior at the end of the second episode makes me a little suspicious. In the first episode, he seemed very enthusiastic about helping Eric in the forest. However, as soon as Eric is at the police station and we talk about the motel, he is suddenly very reserved and a bit dismissive. Not exactly enthusiastic tho.

Ash

Apart from that, she seems a bit cold and seems to like to contradict Charlie in particular. Or in other words, bring him back down to earth. But I do think that she is trying to keep a cool head despite the circumstances? Although she still seems a bit reserved. For me she is not bad. We get some information thanks to her haha.

I'm not entirely sure about Ash. I am especially unsure because they say she is not in Redlog. On the one hand, she is close enough to drive to the motel. We do not know the situation yet: why she is not in Redlog (maybe just because of work), how she could have kept an eye on Adam's house and how far away she was from Redlog. I also want to keep in the back of my mind, that Ms. Hunt told her about the police car before Adams house.

Violet

I can not say much about Violet. She seems really sweet, works in the diner and would like to set Charlie up with Julia (I hope I remember the name correctly). Apart from that, she has not contributed a lot to the search. A little, but not crucial.

Alan

Well, there are more mysteries than facts tho

We know that Adam wanted to meet us at Greenside to help us with our case. But he would not be able to make it because of him. He had seen him in the shadows of the trees.

The envelope with our map was in his glove compartment.

At first I thought that Adam had put it in there, but since recent events I think it was probably put there afterwards. Perhaps by the aforementioned him. Whether that is our Unknown is up for debate.

But I strongly assume that everyone in the group will get their own card during the course of the game.

Whitmore

Somehow, when we first saw Whitmore up close, I thought he definitely was not a bad man xD

Since he got the card "the liar", I somehow suspect that he may have been some kind of key figure in our case, but he turned out to be a man with many faces. And a liar as he is, must be punished? I do not know, buut our Unknown seems to know something.

Anyway we all can agree that there is more to it, but how much is hard to say.

To me, it certainly seemed as if he had installed this alarm system because of the one who send him this card. But maybe he had the alarm system before? Hard to tell.

Unknown

To me, the conversations with him feel like the ones with Jake. And the way he flirts is so cuuute *-* Anyway, I am somehow convinced that he actually knows that it is not us personally who are in the forest? I mean, he warned us about Whitmore beforehand and that we should hide. That should mean that he must have had a rough overview in order to be able to estimate Eric's location as well as the distance to Whitmore. But he seems to want to keep the distance, possibly because of Whitmore. Probably because he suspects that Whitmore would shoot at him?

But he won't have always known Eric's location. Otherwise he would not have had to follow the blood trail.

And he knew about Whitmore's alarm.

Mehh I don't know. Just some random thoughts probably a lot of you guys also had thought of

Brian and Lyla

Yeah where is Brian? XD And Lyla yeahhh Eric's hysterical ex-girlfriend? or maybe his sister?

3 Final Thoughts

I guess you know the theories going around better than I do (I don't have X lol), but to sum it all up: I'm really excited about the game. I love how new features are being added, how the episodes are getting longer and there are a lot more options too. I'm definitely excited to find out what Adam wanted to help us with, without us knowing what it was about. Maybe someone contacted him on our behalf?

I also really like how we're getting a sort of sequel to Duskwood on the side. I mean, we shouldn't forget that they also brought in the old actors for this episode and are also planning the sequel. I'm really impressed with what a relatively small company can do. Above all, they also try to include the wishes of the fans. You don't get that very often I'd suppose.

•••◇••••••◇••••••◇••••••◇••••••◇•••

Okay puhh that was quite a lot and there is probably still a lot missing haha

These are just a few of my thoughts, you don't have to agree with them. After al I just hope you enjoyed reading it and that you are perhaps already looking forward (a little) to the next episode ♡

[fenra-bookswritings]

SPOILER EP 2 - MOONVALE

I just wondered while playing Ep 2 for the second time that all of the characters we know so far have blue eyes, except from the brown eyes we have seen in the end of Ep 2, through the keyhole.

I mean, Adams eyes are blue, Whitmores eyes are blue and Eric's eyes are also blue.

Sooo who could this be?

We still don't know how Charlie looks like and of course our ladies. Buut Violet is at work and we're on the phone with Ash. Means neither of them is an option. Charlie is supposed to drive to work but who knows. Remains our Dear Mr. Unknown. Who happened to be near the Whitmore house, where we know that a shot was fired before Eric was kicked out. The possibility that he may have been shot is there. And now he tries to recover in this room? I don't know xD

[fenra-bookswritings]

2024

Midnight Queen (smut) Midnight Queen pt. II (fluff)

Icarus Has Fallen (fluff, one part)

Whispers of the Forgotten (multichapter story, masterlist)

Scars Like Mine (angsty, fluffy) Scars Like Mine pt. II (fluff)

A Bargain (angsty, fluffy)

2023

Azriel x Reader | The Beauty of Intimacy (request)

Azriel x Reader | Crazy Stupid Love (request) Part II

Azriel x Reader | Gone for Too Long (request)

Azriel x Reader | Spy Kid (request)

Azriel x Reader Drabble

Azriel x Reader | Lose You To Love Me (request) Part II (request)

Azriel x Reader | Memento Mori

Azriel x Reader | Till Death Do Us Part (chapt. masterlist, request)

Azriel x Reader | The Secrets We Hide (request)

Azriel x Reader | The Wonders of Intimacy (request)

Azriel x Reader | Scared to Be Lonely (request)

Azriel x Reader | Showered with Kisses (request)

Azriel x Reader | My Favourite Star (Starfall Week Special)

Azriel x Reader | Haunted (request)

Azriel x Reader | The Joys of Pregnancy (request)

Azriel x Reader | Soft Hands (request)

Azriel x Reader | Forget Me Not (collaborative fic with @moonlightazriel)

Azriel x Reader | Fly With Me (request)

Azriel x Reader | Catch Me If You Can

Azriel x Reader | Oh Those Romance Novels

Azriel x Reader | Love's A Burden - Part II

Azriel x Reader | Amazing (birthday present for @moonlightazriel)

Azriel x Reader | A Little Bit of Your Heart (masterlist)

2022

Azriel | The Pleasure Hall Part 1 Part II Part III (mature)

Azriel x Reader | Spy and Spymaster Part I Part II

Azriel x Reader | Witch Encounters (request) Part II

Azriel x Reader | Comfortable Thighs (mature)

Azriel x Reader | Misery Loves Company Part II

Azriel x Reader | Honey Kisses

Azriel x Reader | Shadowsinger Baby (request)

Azriel x Reader | Cold Like Winter (request) Part ||

Azriel x Reader | Honeymoon (request, mature)

Azriel x Reader | Broken Bond (request) Part II

Azriel x Reader | The Joys of Parenthood (request) Part II

Azriel x Reader | Early Morning Delights (request)

Imagines

Azriel Soft Mornings

[fenra-bookswritings]

Navigation

Duskwood/Moonvale

Moonvale Unknown (Japanese)

Moonvale Release Statement (only some of my thoughts on the matter :3)

My (Un)popular opinion about Moonvale (so far 2 Episodes)

Duskwood Recap after everything we now know

ACOTAR One-Shots (not written by me)

Azriel

A Field of Dandelions

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird

Naruto

Masterlist Naruto by imaginativeamateur

Kakashi

Are we close enough? One-Shot

Leverage One-Shot

Young Kakashi pics

A awesome Kakashi Scene by panharmonium

The Vampire Diary/ The Original

Klaus

No Mercy One-Shot

Ikémen Serie

Midnight Cinderella

Masterlist

[fenra-bookswritings]

I have to say, the way Unknown writes in Japanese is incredibly interesting.

Especially the part where he says in English "I want to help you". Personally, I would have translated it in Japanese as 助けたい or 助けあげたい. But! 「俺はMCの力になりたい」can literally be translated as "I want to become your strength". A little hint for speculation, I would guess ;)

•••••••♧•••••••♧•••••••♧•••••••♧•••••••

I also asked my (Japanese) boyfriend about this phrase and he said that it is often used for "I want to support you" or "I want to help you". Another nice translation would be: I want to be the person you can rely on.

I find it extremely fascinating how the same things are expressed in different languages. In other languages ​​it may be more detailed or described precisely.

For me personally, it is always a bit vague in English or German when you say "I want to help you". Of course, the first thought is always positive. In mystery stories like Moonvale, however, you can also be a bit more skeptically. Because "helping" is a very broad term. You can help someone by helping them clean their house or you can help someone get to the pit faster.. I have to say, the meaning of the sentence in English or German still allows for a certain amount of skepticism. While in Japanese it inevitably becomes clear that it is actually positive and that it must definitely be a person who actually wants to help MC so that MC can rely on them.

Of course, I can't say for sure that Everbyte thought the same thing. But I would assume that they have decent translators with whom they may have also discussed this. So that in the end, exactly the meaning that they want to convey is conveyed.

[fenra-bookswritings]

Okay, I can't believe I can play Moonvale in Japanese too. This is life changing xD

嬉しい笑 ゲームは日本語でも存在してるので、一番ラッキーな人になったばかりだ爆

[fenra-bookswritings]

Hey guys, I just wanted to share a few thoughts on the #Moonvale criticism.

I don't really know how to write this, but somehow I was pretty disappointed with all the fuss about the release of the new episode. Not in Everbyte but more in the community, without wanting to criticize anyone. Everyone can say what they want and I thought it was nice that some of you emphasized several times that this isn't about hate, but about constructive criticism.

I understand the points of anger, but then again, somehow I don't.

AI is interesting for a lot of artists at the moment, which doesn't make it reprehensible. Also the point that AI steals works. Of course that's not good, but honestly it could just be a kind of inspiration. If you look, you'll always find a suitable comparison. Like Arcane. But just because there's a woman with blue hair doesn't mean it has to be a version of Jinx. After all, people look for inspiration everywhere. That doesn't make it a copy. (I understand your point completely, of course, and I don't think stealing from artists is a good thing. I'm an artist myself and can relate to it very well)

And about the diamond system... Sure, they spoiled us a bit with the premium package and the diamonds are quite annoying. But good work is worth paying for. (That doesn't mean that you have to pay $50 for it all the time. Especially because there's no obligation behind it.) I'd rather pay something (and that won't happen more than twice a year at the rate they're releasing) than let this studio go under. After all out there are so many artist who get support through.. money. this game isn't a expectation.

The work they do, the effort, the technology they need, the actors. All the work they do behind the scenes to produce this episode... It was so sad to read all these hate comments after they probably put a lot of effort into it for 2 years. I can well imagine that after the release, they were relieved

and hoped that there would be a little more gratitude. Just because they had written something amazing again. However, it quickly went from comments like "bring Jake back" and "I can't wait" to "the game sucks" "this is shit". But as the saying goes: Nothing is so hard as man's ingratitude. For someone who just consumes, it may be justified. But for people who have put their heart and soul into it, even if they made mistakes, it is extremely devastating. People are so quick to only see the negative that all the good is quickly wasted. If you tear it down, then in most cases the criticism only concerns AI and diamonds. The story is structured very similarly to Duskwood in parts. We even got the introduction of the characters, the time when "unknown" appears, the clues, the relationships and even Jake at the end.

And we can even repeat the episodes as often as we like without losing any progress in the game.

I am definitely in favor of appropriate criticism. There is no need to sugarcoat anything that cannot be sugarcoated. What I was actually trying to say here is that I found it so sad how quickly all the positive things are forgotten because the community is upset about "two" settings.

If you've read this far, thank you. This isn't meant to offend you in any way. I... just wanted to share my thoughts with anyone who's into this and seems to be listening.

Have a nice day everyone 🫶🏻

[fenra-bookswritings]

A Field of Dandelions

azriel x witch!reader | Your High Lady calls upon you. requesting a remedy that only you know how to make. It requires specific ingredients found between the courts of spring and autumn and you're in need of an escort. Unfortunately for you, she assigns her Shadowsinger to accompany you. The Shadowsinger who hates you...or so you thought.

“Please don’t talk to me like that.”

“Why?”

“It’s cruel and heartless and you don’t even realize.”

warnings: angst but with fluff at the end, mentions of self-hate/abuse. pretty much Azriel thinking he's not worthy of a mate.

a/n: I've been re-reading the Shatter Me series and there's a scene between Aaron and Juliette that drove me to make this along with the song Dandelions by Ruth B. The dialogue above is directly from the book Unravel Me. I used them as a writing prompt along with the general gist of the scene and added my own twist to it. I just wanted to put that disclaimer out there.

**

The door opens before you can even knock and your dear friend and High Lady pulls you into a warm hug. She beckons you inside with a smile and your eyes dart around the various paintings adorning the walls, finding that some are new.

Surprise etches onto your features when your eyes land on the Night Court’s Spymaster. He stands at the end of one of the winding staircases with his usual stoic expression. Still as devastatingly handsome as always. You drop your gaze as quickly as you had met his and if he notices it, he doesn’t let it show. He doesn’t seem to acknowledge your presence.

Your ears pick up on faint crying. It grows louder and louder. Turning your head toward the source, your eyes land on Nyx. Despite being in the comfort of his father’s arms, his little features contort in pain. You greet your High Lord with a bow of your head, noticing the exhaustion on his face that mirrors Feyre’s.

“Is Mor on her way?” You ask, adjusting the strap of your bag. It’s full with all necessary tools and equipment you need for your venture.

Feyre had requested if you could make a tonic to sooth Nyx’s aches while he’s teething but your apothecary shop was unfortunately out of the main ingredient. Dandelion root. Not just any dandelion root but the ones that grow in the soil between the courts of Spring and Autumn and given the current tensions in Prythian and your status as a former Spring court inhabitant, it was not safe for you to go alone.

“Oh,” Feyre says as she takes the babe into her arms. You coo at Nyx and he blinks up at you, his crying coming to a stop. His lips tug up into a small smile and he wraps a tiny hand around your finger. “She is unfortunately caught up in Vallahan.”

“So then Cassian is to escort me today?” You ask again, looking up at your friend.

You catch the way she looks at Rhysand. They share a look and you know they’re communicating to each other through their mind. It’s Rhysand who answers you this time.

“Cassian isn’t fond of the spring, allergies and all.”

The Shadowsinger steps forward and your smile falls. You turn back to your friend, who gives you a sheepish smile in return.

“Azriel will be escorting you today.”

You almost want to say no. The thought of being alone with Azriel makes your stomach churn with unease and something else that you can’t quite discern at the moment. But Nyx begins to squirm in his mother’s arms with a pout and Feyre’s eyebrows knit in concern.

“Okay,” you sigh.

“Thank you so much for doing this,” Feyre says.

“Our son’s life is in your hands.”

Feyre slaps her husband’s arm with a roll of her eyes. “He’s not dying, Rhys,” she grumbles. “He’s just in some discomfort from teething.”

She then turns to Azriel with a stern look. The corner of her lips threatened to betray her. “Be nice.”

**

Azriel’s shadows envelop you both, whisking you away to the forest of the Spring Court. It was the safest of the two courts to winnow directly to. The air in the dense woods hangs heavy with the scent of blooming blossoms and you’re thankful for the muffled sounds of nature as it provides a soothing background noise, saving you from the awkward silence between you and the impassive Shadowsinger.

Azriel walks ahead, his movements graceful and quiet. His shadows cling to him like the loyal companions they are but some hover over your boots, silencing your own steps. 

He finally breaks the silence. “You’re staring.”

You shift your gaze immediately and wonder if he can also sense the pink that dusts your slightly flustered face. “I’m just surprised you’re the one escorting me,” you answer honestly.

“It’s not like I had much of a choice,” he responds cryptically.

A slight tension settles between you, your heartbeat quickening as you follow him through the forest. “Right,” you say, your face growing pinker.

You shift the weight of your bag to your other shoulder and Azriel comes to a sudden stop. He turns, his hazel eyes scanning you for a moment. Without a word, he takes the bag from your arm, effortlessly hoisting it over his shoulder. 

The unexpected gesture catches you off guard, and a quiet "thanks" escapes your lips. “You’re being awfully nice today,” you can’t help but observe, a mixture of surprise and curiosity in your tone “I think this is the most you’ve talked to me since we met.”

Azriel’s lips curve into an almost-smile. A rare sight that sends a flutter through your chest. “My High Lady told me to be nice.”

“Right,” you repeat quietly to yourself as you exhale, a futile effort to calm your fluttering nerves. It’s almost embarrassing the effect Azriel has on you and as the butterflies in your stomach stir, you hope that the rest of the day unfolds quickly.

**

Mates. Two individuals predestined to be together, brought together by unseen forces and an irresistible bond. Azriel once wondered if he had a mate but after centuries of living, he began to wonder if he was simply destined to be alone.

When his brothers found their mates and he still hadn’t found his, he started to think he was far beyond the reach of love. It was a blessing he could not have. He didn’t need a mate, so he convinced himself he didn’t want one. Romance was not part of his duties and he was starting to come to terms with the fact. 

That is, until, he met you.

Nestled right on the outskirts of the area known as the Rainbow of Velaris was a quaint shop. The wooden sign above, engraved with dark letters spelling out Nightrose Apothecary, swayed gently in the cool morning breeze. Azriel had ignored the frenzied whirlwind of his shadows as he stepped into the shop.

Shelves made of twisted vines and polished wood were neatly arranged with rows of glass jars containing colorful powders, dried herbs and exotic roots. A friendly black cat, lounging on the sunlit windowsill, blinked at him in greeting. As he stepped further into the shop, his senses became overwhelmed with the prominent scent of lavender and chamomile.

Behind a worn, wooden counter is where you stood. You hummed to yourself, immersed in the book in front of you. He found himself unable to take his eyes off of you as you skimmed over the rough edged pages, your fingertips carrying an enchanting green glow and eyes filled with darkness. 

You were a witch but it was no surprise to him. He had heard about you. You were a good friend of Feyre’s. One of the few people she could trust during her time in the Spring court. When the Spring Court fell into chaos, Feyre had brought you with her and helped you open up this shop.

His steps were silent and he’s sure you’re unaware of his presence, so he shifted, parting his mouth to speak–

“Hello, Shadowsinger.”

His steps faltered, eyes widening for a fleeting moment.

When you finally lifted your gaze to meet his, his eyes locked with yours and something deep within him awakened. An exhilarating feeling like no other. He felt light. He felt alive. And he was almost afraid to blink, not wanting the feeling to end.

His shadows peeked out from behind his limbs, curious to see what had their master in a chokehold. They dispersed from his body in a thrilled dance as the darkness left your eyes, revealing their natural color. They’re beautiful and sparkling with kindness, even as his shadows disobey his silent orders and slither up your arms in a cool greeting.

“I’m sorry,” he found himself apologizing, a slight tint in his cheeks. “They usually don’t do that.”

“It’s okay,” you brushed off his worry and he felt lightheaded and bewitched at the smile you directed toward him. “What brings you here?”

Azriel can’t help but feel that you already know why he’s there. He pulled his gaze away, choosing to focus on the crystal orbs on the counter instead. “My High Lady recommended I come to you. I’ve been having trouble…sleeping.”

The green glow returned to your fingertips as you beckoned a small clear vial from one of the shelves behind you. It’s filled with a silver liquid that glistened as it moved, mirroring the twinkle of the stars that light up the night sky.

“This should help.” You told him as you held out the vial to him. “Take a sip before you’re ready for bed and it should quickly pull you into a restful slumber. Some say it even brings forth sweet dreams.”

Azriel nodded his head, taking the small vial from you with a gloved hand. He stored it carefully into the chest pocket of his leathers. His hands then dug into the pockets of his pants but you held out a hand to stop him.

“It’s on the house.”

“But–”

“Any friend of Fey–the High Lady’s is a friend of mine.”

His throat tightened as he realized it’s time for him to leave and he doesn’t want to. He’s caught in a whirlwind of emotions and finds himself torn between hope and fear. Or maybe he fears what it means to be hopeful because for once in his life, he wants something.

He wants you. His mate.

But as he thanked you for your kind gesture, he realized that the bond must have not snapped for you as it had for him. So he reluctantly went on with his day and when the sky darkened and stars awakened, he took a sip from the small vial. He had the best sleep of his life that night and dreamt about you.

The next morning he asked Rhysand and Feyre about what he had experienced because he couldn’t believe it himself. They confirmed his suspicions and they were both delighted. Feyre even more so as you were her dear friend.  

She had taken it upon herself to bring you two together. Her first attempt was a family dinner. It was going well until Elain had spotted a spider and upon the small scream she let out, Nesta had rushed to kill it for her. Your distress was impossible to turn a blind eye to and Feyre quietly asked if you were alright.

“It didn’t need to die,” is all you quietly said, your eyes lined with silver.

Witches were one with nature and given your niche with herbs and creation, Azriel realized the depth of your admiration for all life that night. Then, another harrowing one. You were so innocent, so pure. He was guilty, hands tainted and stained red. He didn’t deserve you.

The Cauldron must’ve made a mistake.

Feyre was undeterred so she gave it another attempt, despite Azriel’s protest. She arranged a night out at Rita’s for the Inner Circle and invited you. Azriel didn’t plan on going but Rhysand had made sure his schedule was clear and when Feyre had sent him an image of you in a skin tight dress, he came as quickly as he could. 

But it was too late.

He arrived to find a high fae leaning toward you in interest and you were smiling at him. A smile Azriel wanted reserved just for him. The male had placed a hand at your waist and Azriel felt his stomach churn when you laughed at something he had said. A sound he wished to be the cause of. You seemed happy and who was he to stand in your way?

The male was everything Azriel was not. Blond, blue eyed and perfectly smooth hands–hands that were all over you and welcomed by you. He unconsciously hid his scarred hands behind his back and when your gaze met his across the room, he looked away. 

Azriel was not worthy of you. He didn’t deserve to have you as his mate. So he reminded himself that romance was not part of his duties and convinced himself that the Cauldron, had indeed, made a mistake. 

He couldn’t bear the thought of being just a friend to you. The mere idea pained him so much that he pushed you away. He didn’t return to your apothecary when he finished the vial you’d given him–not even when his nights became restless again and dark circles appeared beneath his eyes. When he’d see you walking along the streets of Velaris, he’d turn the other away and when you would visit Feyre and he was there, he’d find an excuse to leave.

But there was one thing he couldn’t shake off–the primal instinct to protect you. It was the least he could do for you as he felt indebted to you for the Cauldron’s mistake. 

So when he heard you needed an escort to the border between the Spring and Autumn courts, he was the first to volunteer, despite Mor and Cassian also offering.

**

It’s as if the ground beneath you comes to life in your presence. Birds fly over you, chirping and singing a beautiful melody. As you pass, buds blossom into beautiful flowers as if enchanted by you. Even the animals emerge from their hidden abodes. The squirrels playfully dart between branches while a family of deer gracefully emerges from the trees.

It becomes evident that nature itself is captivated by your presence. and it extends beyond nature, weaving its magic onto Azriel as well. It reaches into the very heart of the Shadowsinger, casting an enchanting spell that even he cannot escape.

A blue butterfly dances playfully around Azriel. It startles him, pulling him out of his trance and you can’t help the small laugh that escapes from you. You raise a finger and the butterfly lands on it softly.

“Hello, little one,” you coo softly. You turn to Azriel, holding out your finger to him. “Would you like to hold it?”

“No.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Are you scared of a butterfly?”

Azriel does not answer your question. Instead, his eyes dart around the forest that still stirs with liveliness around you. “What happened to keeping a low profile?”

“Sorry,” you apologize, even though it’s not your fault. The butterfly grants you one last flutter of its wings before gracefully flying away. “I can’t help but be admired by many.”

Azriel lets out a hum. You’re too distracted to pick up on the subtle resonance of agreement, your eyes widening as the meadow finally comes into view in the distance.

**

You inhale deeply, flooding your senses with the delicate fragrance surrounding you–a symphony of floral notes. Time seems to slow and your worries dissipate away as you kneel down, gently touching the soft sea of green, white and yellow. The gentle sway of the dandelions becomes a mesmerizing dance, their feathery plumes catching the morning breeze like wishes ready to be set free.

Azriel watches you and his eyes are a reflection of an adoration deeper than any meadow bloom. There’s a bittersweet ache in his chest. You close your eyes, a serene expression on your face. Strands of sunlight weave through your hair, creating a halo of warmth and Azriel finds it hard to breathe when your lips bloom into a tender smile.

Your eyes open and meet his hazel eyes and suddenly, he’s looking away. He clears his throat, eyes looking around the field. “What’s so special about this place?” He asks, a desperate attempt to reclaim the distance between desire and reality.

“All life is a delicate balance of give and take. Spring brings forth new life and beauty, new beginnings. Autumn leaves showers of gold, recognizing the temporary nature of all things. “ You answer as if it's common knowledge and upon the bewildered expression on Azriel’s face, you offer the simpler explanation:  “The soil between Spring and Autumn is very potent.” 

“These are weeds. They’ll grow anywhere.” Azriel deadpans. He regrets it immediately at the brief darkening of your eyes and the slight frown that forms at his casual dismissal.

“You may see a weed,” you begin, plucking a single dandelion from the ground as you rise to your feet. You approach the Shadowsinger. “But I see wishes.”

You extend the dandelion to him with a softness in your eyes that he’s never been on the receiving end of. “They say a single dandelion possesses the power to grant one-hundred wishes. But their beauty lies in their resilience because when they fall apart, they simply start again. A reminder to us all of boundless hope.”

Azriel hesitates, his gaze fixed on the dandelion. His gloved fingers brush against yours and for a fleeting moment, he wonders what your skin would feel like against his. The mere thought dares to send a shiver through him but he swiftly pushes the thought away. He doesn’t deserve you.

You smile at him as he carefully accepts the delicate stem from you. His shadows remain dispersed around the field but from where he stands, he can feel them vibrating in a joyful dance. Your smile is so bright, so dazzling and for the first time since he met you, it’s all for him. A sudden warmth floods through him, a sensation he never anticipated, and he finds himself utterly captivated.

“Make a wish,” you whisper to him, your voice a gentle prompt that lingers in the air like a spell waiting to be cast.

Azriel is not one to believe in things like this but he finds himself surrendering to the magic of the moment. For you.

Under the tender gaze of a field of dandelions, he closes his eyes. He lets out a silent breath, and makes a wish. A gentle breeze courses through you both in that moment. The dandelion’s wispy seeds take flight, unraveling into a delicate constellation of possibilities. 

The soft bristles of hope travel through the air and find their way to you and a laugh escapes from you in response to the tickling sensation as they caress your face. Azriel’s heart feels strangely gentle–as if the weight that often accompanies his existence has momentarily dissipated. His entire body seems to soften in the glow of your laughter and a rare smile graces his lips.

He’s stuck in a trance, mesmerized by you, failing to catch the sounds of the creatures approaching. Before he knows it, there are arrows whistling around you both. He barely has enough time to respond as one hisses by his ear and darts to you. He immediately raises his hand up, his shadows rushing to the rescue and forming a protective shield around you both.

**

Your eyes are wide as you stare at the tip of an arrow that is a couple of inches away from you. It’s coated with blood. Azriel’s blood. Your breath hitches at the sight. There's an arrow embedded into his gloved hand and if it weren’t for Azriel’s other hand at the small of your back, you would’ve fallen backwards.

“Are you alright?” His gaze is examining you carefully, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

You blink at his words. “Are you alright?”

“Well, well, well.” A voice drawls followed by deep, rumbling growls from the hounds that surround you. They’re kept at bay by Azriel’s shadows. “What do we have here?”

Azriel turns around, ready to face the threat head on. His shadows remain at your side protectively. Some slither up and down your arms, their touch aimed at offering comfort and reassurance. 

“Eris.”

The red head smirks and his teeth flash when he catches the sight of the Shadowsinger’s injured and bleeding hand. “My apologies,” Eris sneers. “If I had known it was you, I would’ve aimed for the heart.”

A sound escapes from you–one you didn’t know you were capable of making and you step out from the shadows. It draws Eris’s attention to you. His amber eyes drink you in and you feel Azriel stiffen beside you. The Autumn’s male’s eyes land on the obsidian necklace around your neck and they narrow.

“What is a witch doing in my lands?” His hounds that are still surrounding let out another growl, prompted by their master’s tone of voice. They snap their teeth menacingly.

But you’re unfazed.

Perhaps, it’s Azriel’s protective shadows or the overwhelming anger set alight by Eris’s words that grant you the confidence and push you forward. Your eyes fill with darkness, resembling a night sky without any stars and Azriel can feel the energy coursing through your veins as you call upon your magic.

“Keep wasting the air with that breath of yours and I might just cur–”

A hand comes over your mouth, stopping you from saying anything else and you’re being pulled flush into Azriel’s chest. You grimace at the taste of leather and squirm only for Azriel’s arms to tighten around you.

“Cute,” Eris remarks with a hint of amusement but there’s an unmistakable fear that flashes in his eyes for a short lived moment.

 “We’re just passing through,” Azriel states, his voice void of emotion. 

Eris observes you both in contemplative silence. He must discern something in Azriel that prompts him to stand down. With a thoughtful hum, he gracefully turns away. His hounds follow suit and as he walks away, he calls over his shoulders: “Make it quick.”

You watch as Eris disappears into the forest, still wrapped tightly in Azriel’s arms. It isn’t until Eris is completely out of view that you squirm again and without thinking, you bite on his gloved hand. Hard. Azriel flinches and finally releases his grip on you.

You turn to him with a glare that he returns.

“Threatening to curse the heir to Autumn? Are you out of your mind?”

“I should curse you for stopping me!” You exclaim, crossing your arms with a scowl. Your gaze then softens as you quietly add:  “He hurt you.”

“Gods,” Azriel breathes, stepping away from you and tilting his head backwards. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

“You mean besides piss you off by merely existing?” You huff as you snatch your bag away from him to get the jars you brought. “Can’t imagine it gets any worse than that.”

**

The walk to your apartment is silent and you begin to wonder if you should apologize for your outburst earlier. It was not within your nature to raise your voice at anyone…or harbor anger toward someone. But Eris had tried to hurt you, hurt Azriel and then shamelessly sneered about it.

Azriel follows you into your home, watching as you set the ingredients you collected down. He expects you to bid him farewell and kick him out but as you turn to him and your gaze falls to his injured hand, you sigh.

“Come on,” you offer, reaching out for his hand and he recoils. You frown.  “Does it hurt?”

“No.” 

You know he’s lying by the way his jaw clenches and you can’t help but notice that he appears to be repelled by your touch. You almost laugh. “I promise I won’t curse you. I actually never cursed anyone before.”

Azriel’s expression remains unreadable.

“Just let me see. I can help you.”

“I’m fine.” He says through gritted teeth.

“You’re bleeding all over my floor.” You say in hopes to get him to accept your help and when it doesn’t, you cross your arms against your chest. “Do you really hate me that much? To be repulsed by my touch?”

“I don’t hate you.” Azriel confesses and his voice is much quieter, much softer when he speaks again. “I could never.”

Azriel holds your gaze in contemplation for a long moment. Out of the corner of your eyes, you can see his shadows pushing him toward you so you try again. This time, when you step forward, your hand reaching for him, he doesn’t pull away. 

 “Sit,” you tell him, nodding your head at one of the chairs in your kitchen. 

With a hard swallow, he does. He is entirely still as you hold his gloved hand in yours. Even his shadows are eerily still as if holding their breath. His eyes are boring into you with an intensity that heats your skin. You bring your other hand up, a soft green glow emitting from your fingertips. With the help of your magic, you carefully take the arrow out, drawing a sharp gasp from him. 

“Sorry,” you say, turning your attention to his glove next. You use your magic to remove it as well, not wanting to cause him any more pain or discomfort.

As the green mist of your magic dissipates, revealing the scarred skin beneath, your eyes widen. The scars are extensive, streaking around his fingers and the palm of his hand and the bleeding gash in the middle is nothing compared to them. You lift your gaze to meet his only to find his eyes are dead of emotion.

“Azriel.” You breathe and it’s the first time you’ve ever addressed him by his name and it sounds so pretty, so beautiful but the way you’re looking at him…

“Don’t.” His throat feels tight and he starts to withdraw his hand from yours but you stop him. You want to know who hurt him this deeply. Today was a day of firsts for you–first smile from Azriel, first time you ever felt so angry, first time you growled at someone and you were more than willing to add another first to that list. Cursing someone.

But Azriel looks like he’s about to break so you push your rage aside. Realization dawns on you as you now understand why he’s always wearing gloves around you, why he avoided you at all costs before. Your heart aches.

“You don’t have to hide from me,” you say softly as you begin to heal his hand. “Your scars may forever carry their stories with them but they do not define you. Your heart does and I can see it now. It’s bright and beautiful. You’re beautiful and–”

“y/n,” he almost begs. “Please don’t talk to me like that.”

The gash on his palm is now completely healed and you tighten your hold on it. “Why?”

“It’s cruel and heartless and you don’t even realize.” His voice drops to a pained whisper and his eyes are fluttering shut, body trembling. Shadows cling on to him, embracing him in an attempt to comfort their master. You’ve never beheld anything more heartbreaking.

“Do you think that lowly of me?” You begin, your voice quiet. “That I would be put off by your scars?”

When he doesn’t answer, your free hand reaches for his face, lifting his chin up. But his eyes are still closed and deep lines form on his forehead because your skin is so soft, so warm and he’s not worthy.

“Azriel,” you steady your breath. “You’re my mate.”

His eyes shoot open, hazel orbs glistening with tears as he looks up at you. “You know?”

“I’ve known since the moment I met you.” You confess with a pained smile. “I wanted to tell you right away but I didn’t want to scare you and when I was ready to tell you, you were avoiding me. I thought you hated me because, well, I’m a witch and not everyone is fond of them.”

“But that night at Rita’s–”

“My stupid attempt at making you jealous,” you explain to him sheepishly. “I thought it would prompt you to talk to me but it backfired immensely.”

Silence falls over you two. 

“I’m sorry.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “For what?”

“For being your mate.” Azriel responds. “I don’t deserve you. My hands are not only scarred but stained red. I’ve tortured many. I’ve killed many. You value life but I take it.”

“I value innocent life. It’s my duty to protect nature–to protect those that cannot speak for themselves.” You clarify. “I understand that it’s your duty to protect this court. I don’t see you any different for it.”

The hand at his face drops and you use it to remove the glove from his other hand. Your hands grasp onto his larger ones and you lace your fingers with his, embracing the thickened and roughened skin. Azriel’s breath hitches.

 “This can’t be real,” he murmurs to himself, dropping his gaze. “In that field of dandelions, I wished upon every one of them. For you.”

“Magic doesn’t work that way,” you tell him with a smile as an overwhelming rush of tenderness comes over you. “It cannot create or destroy love. It can only heighten what is already there.”

Azriel’s expression softens and he looks back up at you. Half terrified. Half hopeful. “So this is real?”

You decide to show him instead by leaning down and kissing him. 

Azriel’s body relaxes and then he’s using his hands to tug you forward and onto his lap. He kisses you back. Deeply and desperately. He places his hands on your face, your neck and then they’re at your waist, slipping under your shirt. He wants to feel your skin, all of you and you welcome it, arching into him because his touch feels so good.

It stirs a light of desire in you–a desire so bright that it rivals the sun and blossoms flowers of its own. A desire to love and be loved. 

“What else did you wish for?” You gasp out when you both pull away for air. His hands are right under the curve of your chest and he leans his forehead against yours.

His breath is heavy but he smiles at you and you engrave the image into your mind because you’ve never seen anything so beautiful. You’re inclined to ask Feyre to paint it for you later.

“I only wished for you to be mine.” He says, pressing a kiss to your nose.

“Done.”

And then he’s kissing you again.

Azriel has heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime–he’s seen it come to his brothers. He never thought it would come to him but he’s pretty sure that you are that love of his and he was a fool to push it away. He knows this now because when he gazes into your eyes, he can see forever in them.

**

here's like an alternate scene, where y/n is the one who says "please don't talk to me like that" instead of az: read here

here's a scene if you're curious about feyre's reaction: read here

if you're interested in reading more about this au you can find the masterlist for this series here

[fenra-bookswritings]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Twenty-One

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Character death and canon typical violence/graphic descriptions.

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

It was the sound and smell that really got to you. The crackle of bones snapping and the stretching of skin and the slick squelch of new flesh as it grew into place. The scent of burning curtains and couch stuffing and meat so thick in the air Emerie could only lean over and vomit into the fireplace. 

Through the smoke and the haze you saw barbs sprout from Vassa’s skin like needles before splitting down the middle to reveal sickly red feathers. Putrid flowers crawling their way through the dirt. 

She fell to the ground, convulsing with pain and anguish as she transformed.  

“VASSA!” Lucien roared. He threw his arm over his face, magic bursting forth in a protective shield around you and Azriel. His russet eyes reflected the flames that licked at his skin and hair, fighting and absorbing the power that flashed throughout the room. 

From the corner of your eye you saw Feyre use her own spark of Autumn’s magic. The flames took on the shape of wolves and threw themselves over Mor, Gwyn, Emerie, and Elain in a protective huddle. 

Vassa’s screams thinned out into one long screech and the beating of her wings sent another wave of heat through the room.

Azriel pressed you further against the ground as she took off, flying so close overhead that the sweat frying your skin evaporated and the tips of Azriel’s hair singed off. 

Cassian swore, drawing out the short sword he always kept on him as he shielded Ione’s body from the worst of the initial blast, wings out and glaring siphon red in the shape of shield.

Vassa sank her claws into his back, latching onto leather armour and ripping him off the old woman. Her wings took up the length of the room, trailing ribbons of blue and scarlet fire as she finally descended on her prize. 

Ione was no stranger to death. She did not fear it as some might have expected her to. She’d seen friends and family ruthlessly murdered. Experienced loss of a kind that the fae could not comprehend with their long lives. Maybe that was the reason she fought so little when Vassa’s talons closed over her arms and lifted her into the air. 

Rhysand roared, night triumphant rumbling over the floors like an earthquake as darkness spilled from his hands.

But he was too late. 

Vassa crashed through the window with Ione in tow. Glass and fragments of the supporting wall crumbled down in a chorus of cries that tore through your spine as shadows swarmed overhead. Reaching, reaching, reaching after the firebird and the woman she carried higher and higher up into the sky. 

Cassian rolled to his feet, leaping after them with a furious beat of his wings that sent shards of glass skittering over the floor and dust flying into your eyes. 

Azriel scrambled to his feet, hauling you up with him. You dragged your nails over his arms, blinking through smoke-filled eyes as you coughed. 

All around you the House was burning. 

“Are you ok?!” He shook you, hands coming up to your face. He was split between two choices — stay with you, or go get Ione. 

“Go. Go! I’m fine,” you rasped, lifting your sleeve up to your nose and mouth as your eyes streamed with tears. Azriel hesitated, hearing your hacking coughs even as you pushed him towards the gaping wound of the House. Cassian continued to shrink into the distance, red light searing past Vassa’s feathers as she desperately dodged his attacks. 

He wouldn’t go for a killing blow. Not when she was carrying such precious cargo. 

“Just go! If Koschei gets his hands on Ione, we’re all dead!” You erupted in another fit of coughs.

Fuck.

“Stay with Lucien,” Azriel said.

“Yes, yes. Now go!” You gave him one final shove.

Azriel swore beneath his breath, turned, and raced towards the window with his wings ready to unfurl before disappearing in a flurry of smoke. 

Misunderstanding — that was what made Shadowsingers so dangerous. Not their silence. Not the tendrils of darkness they commanded, but how little anyone knew of them and where they came from.

Illyrians, by nature, couldn’t winnow. It was one of the simple, unexplainable facts of their world. As immutable as gravity. As intrinsic as the magic that flowed through their land like a bottomless sea. And despite all the rules Azriel had broken, and would break, in his life — all the contradictions he flirted with like it was a game — he was, first and foremost, an Illyrian.

He did not winnow. 

Winnowing was simple.

Winnowing happened when you folded the fabric of the world in half like a piece of paper and stretched that fabric thin enough to pass through. It was instantaneous. One moment you had both feet planted in one place, the next moment in another. 

What Azriel did was wholly different. 

Because when he “winnowed,” he actually went somewhere else first. 

When he was running away from you, he was moving towards an opening only he could see. A black, flickering spot that grew and grew and grew until it swallowed him whole and he felt himself fall into a different realm. 

The sounds of shouting and feet trampling over glass disappeared with a whisper and he dove into the silence, feeling shadows slip over him like water. 

When he’d first shadow-traveled, it had been an accident. He’d been young and desperate to escape the cramped confines of his bed in the Windhaven barracks. He would never miss his time spent in the cellar, but at least there it had been quiet. At least there he could commune with his shadows in private. Accommodations in the Windhaven barracks were a poor imitation of horse stables — tiny bedrooms lined up with just enough space for growing wings and walls that didn’t reach the ceiling. Boys would peer over the walls at him like an animal on display, throwing food and boasting their strong wings while his lay on the floor like crumpled paper. 

To this day he didn’t quite know where he went when he shadow-traveled. All he knew was that in this world of black sand, cracked rock, and perpetual music, beings roamed free that answered to him and only him. Creatures both same and different to the shadows he commanded in Prythian. They crowded around him, welcoming him home and blocking out the background hums of someone’s sweet singing as the light of three moons cast their silvery net over the Shadowsinger.

The plan is working.

Why have you left her behind? 

The firebird is nearing the edges of your borders. 

Your mate is safe. She remains by her brother’s side.

He listened to their reports, gliding through the still air and watching as a familiar light opened up ahead of him. A fourth moon that wasn’t a moon at all, but a light back home. Through the opening he saw a blue sky raked with fire as Vassa turned onto her back, careening through the air like a firework and opening her mouth wide. 

She’s endowed with new powers. Be cautious, Shadowsinger.

Your brother is on your left. 

What had felt like minutes flying through this darkness vanished into nothing. The time he’d spent in this realm never passed on Prythian. To anyone watching him, they’d think he disappeared from the House and reappeared here, hundreds of feet above the earth.

But things were better this way. When he traveled with his shadows, he had time to gather his thoughts and anticipate the fight ahead.

Quick! Get the warlord.

And he had help.

NOW!

Azriel shattered the boundaries of the world in an explosion of shadow, careening into Cassian’s side and knocking him off course just as Vassa spit out a ball of flame. Azriel heard Cassian’s shout in his ear as they tumbled through the air together in a tangle of wings. He felt the heat that had come close to scorching his back.

I am not that little boy. Not anymore. Azriel promised himself

The warlord grasped the harness hidden in the back of Azriel’s armor just between the shoulder blades, using the momentum of their fall to throw him back towards Vassa. 

The Sidra glowed beneath him, the mouth of the river stretching wide as it prepared to feed the sea. Another mile, and the protections surrounding Velaris would fall away. Who knew what would happen to Ione and Vassa then? 

Azriel saw the distance between them narrow. Vassa’s body could only be propped up by so much magic. Feathers continued to strip themselves from her body, curling inwards as they fell like paper left too close to a flame. 

Ione flailed in Vassa’s clutches, iron cane still held tightly in her hand as she twisted and turned at the mercy of Vassa’s frantic flight maneuvers. 

The firebird squawked in panic when she felt the first cold licks of Azriel’s shadows creep up her wings. They hissed and smarted upon first contact with her fiery feathers, before eating away at her magic like ravenous beasts. 

But she also understood hunger. It was hunger that had driven her to take Ione. It was hunger that had forced her to turn. Hunger for the kind of magic that only Koschei could grant her when she was back in his malignant embrace.

To Azriel’s horror, Vassa twisted in the air and flung Ione down with a shriek. 

The old woman’s face twisted in shock, her scream choked by wind as her stomach flew into her throat and the burning pressure in her arms gave way to freefall. 

Azriel didn’t hesitate. He dove down, reaching out with two scarred hands.

For one brief moment they were falling together. 

Ione saw the firebird change direction and aim right at Azriel, slipping into the blindspots of his vision. Ione looked him dead in the eye and gave the faintest nod. 

Azriel tucked his wings in close and veered off course at the last second, rolling with the impact of Vassa’s wing slamming into his side and feeling the burn when his leathers caught fire.

Somewhere in the wind, Cassian roared. 

Vassa caught Ione and fled beyond the borders of Velaris.

And Azriel fell.

And fell. 

And fell.

A comet.

And disappeared into the ocean. 

Feyre stood in the center of the House, hands raised and eyes alight as fires leapt up the walls and swallowed the curtains. With one fell swoosh they vanished, wind rushing in through the battered side of the House and sweeping away the ash and smoke until the air tasted clean again.

She raised a trembling hand and with one decisive snap of her fingers the worst of the damage vanished, leaving behind the skeletal remains of their once lovely living room. 

“Mor.” The High Lady rasped. 

The blonde female stood to attention, cheeks stained grey, and brown eyes flaring with rage. People liked to think she was just a pretty face — a diplomat or a soothing presence. But right now, she was out for blood and she could smell it coming in the air. 

“Go tell Helion and the others. We meet at Thesan’s as planned.” 

Mor nodded and grabbed Emerie’s hand, giving it a tight squeeze as the Illyrian shook off the worst of her sickness. Her stomach, now empty, twisted. Mor kissed Emerie’s dark hair, whispering promises that they’d see each other again soon. Then it was only a matter of folding the universe in half and stepping into Helion’s palace to the sight of two dozen golden warriors. 

Emerie blinked and her wife was gone.

Rhys stood by the staircase with Gwyn, touching the crown of her head and showing her his most treasured prize. Beneath the fabric of her priestess robes, a new bargain tattoo was being written onto the skin of her ribs. Until their parents’ safe return, Gwyn would protect Nyx and Velaria with her life. No force, natural or otherwise, would keep her from her goal, and those that sought to harm her charges would meet their end on her blade. 

In the privacy of her room she donned the armour of the Valkyries and knelt down at the small altar carved into the wall. She touched the smooth white stone at the center and prayed to the Mother for strength and protection and health. She lit a red candle and dripped the wax onto the blade of her sword and polished it clean, reciting her prayers beneath her breath. 

What seeks to break me will fail. I am a protector. I have always been a protector. And that is what I will always be. It is written in my blood and in my bones, but where I was strong in my spirit, I am now strong in my body.

She stood with her sword in her hands.

I am the rock against which the surf crashes.

Tucked away in a cabin in the Illyrian Steppes, Nyx stood in front of his wooden soldier, practice sword clutched in his hand as he danced around the immobile warrior with a crease in his brow identical to Feyre’s. Every so often he would look over his shoulder at the female sitting on the floor, searching her silver eyes for that hint of pride she hid so well. 

Velaria lay in the crook of her arm, soft fingers tangled in the layers of gold and jewels that hung heavy from her slim, straight neck. Her eyes narrowed as she saw beyond the confines of the cabin into Rhysand’s mind. 

It’s happened hasn’t it? She asked knowingly. 

Yes.

And which one will you be sending to the children and I, boy?

Gwyn.

A good choice. I like that one.

Rhysand smiled tightly, feeling that knot in his chest loosen. No matter what happened, his children would be protected. They’d survive. 

As if sensing what the High Lord needed, Amren looked down at the child swaddled in her arms, allowing Rhysand the relief of seeing his children even if he couldn’t be there to hold them himself. 

Nyx, ever the precocious child, stopped his play-fighting and looked towards his aunt. 

He was still young but greatness hovered over his shoulder like a vulture ready to descend upon his innocence the moment he came of age. It frightened Rhysand to no end. 

Please, keep them safe.

Amren’s mind flickered with something like indignation and she clutched Velaria closer to her chest. It wasn’t maternal instinct that drove her, but something else. Something more feral and possessive. 

I have protected you and your family for centuries. I have killed for you and I died for you when I had far more to lose than just this mortal body. Do you truly believe I will fail you now?

No, Amren. No I do not. 

You raced up the steps after Lucien, smoke settling into your lungs as you wheezed and tried keeping up with his long, frantic strides. Vassa’s bloody footprints and a trail of burnt blue-orange feathers marked her descent. 

“JURIAN!” 

Lucien called his friend’s name the whole way up, praying to the gods that he’d hear a response. The air cleared the higher you went through the House until finally you stood at the base of the attic steps. 

The door stared down from above. Neatly closed. Unassuming. Vassa had shut it calmly before walking down. Or maybe she just couldn’t bear to look at the scene she’d left behind. 

Lucien burst through the silent, unblinking door and stopped dead in his tracks.

The first thing you saw from around his shoulder was the mangled remnants of the birdcage. Its side had been ripped open like ribs, cushion stuffing and blanket fragments spewing out. Claw marks decorated the walls and you detected the cling of iron in the air through your burning nostrils.

“Lucien?” Your voice shook.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t move past the edges of the room. 

When you went to move around his frame, he gripped your arm and covered the way. 

Jurian’s body lay sprawled on the floor, blood pooling in a neat circle around him like he’d been blotted out with a red pen. His right arm was in tatters and three long gashes split him from the temple to his hip. His pearly white winked cruelly. The hazy afternoon sun settled on the dust in the air. 

He must have gotten too close to Vassa not realizing that she was too far gone for even him to help. Maybe she’d done it intentionally as a means of escape, thinking that Jurian was her jailor. But maybe it had all been an accident. The wrong turn of her talons as the pain of her transformation took over. 

The method did not matter. Nor did the reason. 

Because Jurian was dead. 

Lucien crumbled to his knees, sinking into the carpet and feeling nothing and you…

It took everything within you not to scream. You pressed down on the feeling. Down. Down. Down. Burying it deep beneath layers of willpower and practice. 

You walked over to the windows, feeling hatred at the sun for shining down with its yellow light, and ripped the curtains off their rings with a metallic clang. 

Jurian looked up at the ceiling with glistening eyes. Somehow, even in death, there was the faintest hint of a smile on his face — proud, mischievous, and a little wild. A sign of the charismatic general he’d been by Vassa’s side and long before then. You covered that smile carefully, ignoring the squelch of your shoes when you stepped into the circle of blood. 

Something in Lucien cracked open when the curtain fell into place.

He finally screamed. Hands and knees braced on the floor. Face twisted in pain. 

You clapped your hands over your ears, tears streaming down your cheeks as you willed the sound to stop. 

“Lucien—” Elain skidded to halt at the doorway, the mass of pink fabric around her waist swishing once then falling still. She looked at the outline of Jurian. She looked at you. Then she fell to her knees, pulling Lucien’s body into her lap and whispering his name. The initial silence stretching across the bond had terrified her. Hearing him scream and the heartbreak that followed after had sent her running. 

Lucien collapsed against her, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in the flesh of her stomach. She cradled his head in one arm, the other splayed over his back as he wept.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped through her own tears. “I’m so so sorry, Lucien.”

He cried. 

And cried. 

And cried. 

You and Elain heard the shouting from downstairs as a collection of Cassian’s most trusted Valkyries and Illyrian warriors assembled on the lawn. Emerie stood among them, her seconds helping to tie the leather straps of her armour into place as she barked orders left and right. 

Elain looked towards you. The fight to come left no time for grief. Not even Lucien was exempt from that. 

You moved in front of your brother, blocking the sight of the curtains on the floor.

“Lucien,” you begged. Your brother’s bloodshot eye looked at you from the crook of Elain’s arm. “We need to get ready. We need to go.” 

“I can’t… I can’t just leave him. I can’t leave him to rot in this room. I can’t—” 

“I’ll take care of him,” Elain promised. She looked down at her mate. “You can trust me with him, Lucien.” 

He said nothing, but together you and Elain helped him up to his feet, and Elain — beautiful, lovely Elain — stood on the tips of her feet to kiss her mate’s tear-stained cheek. She tasted the salt on her tongue and felt the burning of unshed tears in her own eyes. 

“I’ll bury him somewhere calm in a bed of marigold and poppy.” Fiery, resilient flowers to remind Jurian of the woman he had loved. “And when you and Vassa return we will have a proper goodbye. I promise.”

He took a deep, trembling breath and whispered, “Thank you, Elain.” 

You let him lean against you, let him bury his face in your hair to escape the smell of blood and death, and walked with him downstairs. 

After you and Lucien were gone and Elain stood alone in the presence of the dead, she rolled up her pale pink sleeves, tied off the length of her dress and prepared for a new garden. 

Azriel was soaking wet and aching as he flew up to the House of Wind. Salt stripped his hair of moisture and the strands dried hard and tacky against his scalp. 

“Did you need to make such a dramatic exit?” Cassian snapped when they landed on the balcony. “I thought she’d killed you.”

Azriel moved through the House without even looking, charred leather flaking off his shoulders and floating to the ground as he walked. His wings were sore and tender from the heat, along with his ribs and shoulder from when Vassa had first barreled into him and then when he’d landed in the Sidra. 

“We needed to make it look real, remember?” Azriel answered smoothly.

It had always been part of the plan to let Vassa take Ione if she attempted it, but they couldn’t let her go without a fight or Koschei would find it suspicious. Even so, Azriel hated to admit that he’d been distracted thinking about you. If he’d been any slower today he might have lost his wings. 

“Well you did your job too well.” Cassian growled. 

Azriel dipped into his room, quickly stripping out of his clothes and donning new leathers before he and Cassian set off once again deep into the mountain.

They stopped in front of a grey wood door, and Azriel knocked twice. Paused. Knocked thrice. Paused. Then knocked twelve times. 

Ione — the real Ione — opened the door.

Feyre had inherited many gifts from the seven High Lords of Prythian — her healing touch, her water wolves, her mastery over flame and light and dark. But one of her least used gifts had been glamouring people from her Court… until now.

It had taken her half a dozen portraits to familiarize herself with every subtle valley and curve of Ione’s face, and double the number of attempts before she’d successfully woven Nesta’s features into a perfect copy. You’d swooped in for the final steps, using your knowledge and magic to dampen Nesta’s magical signature until even Cassian couldn’t tell when it was Nesta or Ione standing in front of him without relying on the mating bond.

“Has it happened?” The old woman asked gravely, pulling her shawl tight around her shoulders.

Azriel nodded. “Vassa took the bait.” 

As they spoke, the mortal queen was carrying a disguised Nesta to the Continent where she’d be a hidden weapon in enemy territory. Koschei wouldn’t even know he’d been delivered the wrong prize. 

At least that was the hope.

They brought Ione down to the House, and Azriel forced the woman into a brisk walk, weaving through the small collection of fae in search of you. You stood by Feyre and Rhysand close to the river, one arm kept tight around Lucien’s and a new satchel slung over your back. You kept glancing over at your brother, watching as he did what he could to compose himself. 

“Y/n.” 

One small word spoken from his lips and your eyes were latching onto him. There was a question in his eyes as he looked first at your pale face, and then at Lucien. The trembling of your hands and the shake of your head was all he needed. 

Jurian was gone. 

Azriel swallowed, stopping in front of the male he’d once hated so unfairly and feeling shame. “Lucien, I’m so—”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll rip your tongue out,” Lucien seethed, his eyes flat and hard as stone. The despair had given away to fury before Jurian’s body was even cold and suddenly Lucien was itching to be on the Continent. To feel Koschei’s blood on his hands. 

It wasn’t too late to save Vassa. It wasn’t too late to get his friend back. 

“You can feel pity for me when this is over.” 

There were only a dozen fae crowded around Feyre and Rhysand, but you could feel every wave of power that rippled off their skin, the electricity they shot into the air as they bounced on the pads of their feet and loosened their muscles. 

You found yourself pressed between Azriel and Lucien, the Shadowsinger’s hand balanced on the small of your back. Ione stood in front of you, your hand laid protectively on her shoulder, and a Valkyrie stood behind. She had her corn yellow hair braided around her head in a crown of gold, and stretching out from the slits in her armor fluttered the black and orange wings of a butterfly.

“Techaria,” she introduced herself with a smile and a handshake. “I’ve been assigned to you and Ione.” 

Techaria never left your side, standing firmly at your back after Rhysand winnowed you all to the Dawn Court and the crowd swelled to nearly a hundred. 

You were miles away from the Dawn Palace — the ocean at your front and a sea of frost-tinged grasses at your back. The air buzzed with excitement and dread and no small amount of bloodlust. 

You caught glimpses of the shimmering High Lord of Dawn and the hawk-winged peregryn soldier who held his hand as he dispensed final healing touches. He would not be among the seven High Lords and High Ladies leaving for the Continent. 

The High Lord and High Lady of Winter stood glistening like a pair of crystalline figures beside one of the coast’s watchtowers. White-haired warriors of frost and starshine bobbed around like snowfall and you struggled not to tremble in the presence of the three armored polar bears among their ranks. Eris’s males were similarly easy to spot with their burnished copper armour and their battle hounds hovering at their shoulders. Azriel stepped in between you and one of the beasts, froth pouring from between razor sharp teeth as it growled in your direction for staring too long.

A Summer soldier shoved past, earning himself a glower from Techaria and Azriel as he grabbed another female and drew her into one last passionate kiss. The seashell necklaces they wore clattered as they met, evidence of the dozens of battles they’d survived together. 

It wasn’t an uncommon sight as the crowd quickly split apart at the orders of their High Lords and High Ladies, coalescing into pre-determined divisions that sometimes asked mated pairs to separate. In foreign territory against a mysterious god, communications through their bonds would be indispensable. 

You saw an Autumn Court male — one of the High Lord’s brothers by the name of Castor — break away from his group. He ran towards a willowy Spring nymph two divisions over and slipped a ring into their pocket. 

Their blue eyes blew open in surprise, cries of protest smothered by a firm kiss before he whispered, “I have my High Lord’s blessing. When this is over, I’ll propose to you properly, but you’ll keep this safe in the meantime, won’t you?” 

The nymph sputtered, then nodded when words failed them. Just as quickly as he had come, Castor sprinted back to his men and his division disappeared before your eyes. They were the first to winnow to the Continent.

Lucien folded you into a back-breaking hug. “Stay safe.” Your brother commanded. You heard the tightness in his voice. He’d be staying with Feyre and Rhysand to lead one of the main charges alongside Eris and Tarquin. “I can’t lose you as well.”  

“I’ll come back so long as you do.” 

You squeezed him hard enough to crack ribs, but Lucien wished it had lasted longer. He dove into the parting wave of bodies and vanished. 

You felt your throat tighten as you turned to face the goodbye you’d been dreading the most. 

“Az, I—” 

He silenced you with a kiss, sliding his tongue over your lips for one last taste. He didn’t want to say goodbye. He refused to accept the possibility that you wouldn’t return to each other.

He pulled away so quickly your head spun. 

“I’ll be with the second division,” he breathed out, “Near the southwest corner, not even a mile away from you.” The map flashed in your mind with all its little figurines spread out like a chess game. “Remember what we talked about?” 

If things go wrong, find me so I can protect you. And so if anything happens, we won’t be alone. I want you to promise me.

You nodded fervently. 

Someone in the crowd was calling his name. Maybe Cassian? You couldn’t pay attention to anything other than the hazel eyes burning into you. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but suddenly his brother was there grabbing his arm and hauling him away towards the second division. Red and blue siphons flashed in the grey light and then the pair were gone. 

The crowd thinned as more groups began winnowing away to the Continent. One second there. The next second, gone.

“We need to go, my Lady,” Techaria said gently, but firmly. She’d given you both your privacy and a few precious seconds, but that time was over now. 

You nodded, not able to look away from the empty space Azriel had occupied. 

“He’ll be fine, girl,” Ione said, taking Techaria’s hand. She wore thin, chainmail armour enchanted to feel weightless and a glamoured veil over her features. You caught glimpses of her true face out of the corner of your eyes, but direct eye contact and her face blurred and warped into something unnatural. 

“I know,” you whispered. 

Your stomach dropped when you realized you never did say goodbye to Azriel.

You felt Techaria’s calloused palm slide into yours and then you were gone.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

Yeah guys, RIP Jurian. As I said in a previous post, one of my qualms with SJM is that she doesn't let characters stay dead. I want y'all to know, Jurian is gone. Sorry............ he wasn't even in the story for very long and didn't do much but I'm going to miss him.

[fenra-bookswritings]

Are we close enough?

Part 1

Summary : Emotionally stunted reader and Kakashi

Warning : Use of profanity

Pakun looked up with lazy eyes at his boss pacing around the living room. "I should have asked her for dinner!". Kakashi groaned as he stopped and ran his hand through his hair. "Yes". Pakun said before resting his head on his paws. Kakashi sat on the couch and closed his eyes.

Both of you reached the gates of Konoha just as sun was about to set for the day. You kept thinking about the mission and how soft Kakashi's hand felt on your face. You shook your head to shrug off that thought. It was wrong of you to think about your friend this way when Kakashi had barely mentioned anything... He was just concerned for his friend. "Do you have plans for the evening?". You asked him as you left the hokage tower after submitting the report. Kakashi stayed silent for few seconds staring ahead. "Yes". You nodded your head and fixed your gaze to the ground. "Alright then. See you around hatake". You waved and went the opposite direction.

You walked along the aisle going through the list in your hand. The worst part of having long missions was that you had to clear your refrigerator and re stock it again. You sighed as you put the last item in your cart and pushed it towards the checkout. Before you could turn towards the checkout counter your cart crashed against someone. "Shit! I'm sorry!". Your gaze travelled from the foot of the cart to the familiar white hair. Kakashi gave you a closed eye smile as he rubbed the back of his neck. "it's alright". You smiled politely at him and began walking next to him. "This is your plan for the evening?". Kakashi asked side eyeing the ice cream tub in your cart. "Ummmm yeah you can say so...".

Both of you walked out of the store and Kakashi insisted on carrying your bags for you. You looked at him walk next to you and realised why so many men and women fawned over him. He was a complete gentleman on top of being an exceptional shinobi. You saw a women wave in his direction and Kakashi returning her greetings with a smile. You maintained the polite smile to hide the unsettling feeling in your stomach. "Did you eat dinner?". Kakashi asked hesitantly.

"Not yet". Kakashi pressed his lips together under the mask to hide his smile. He was a proud smooth talker but everytime he was with you his words and wits betrayed him. He knew this was a good chance to ask you out and he had to be extremely careful.

"This is my place. I can take it from here". You said nervously. Kakashi snapped out of his daze and realised that he took a little too long to form the right words. "Right. Here you go". He said giving you your bags. "I eat dinner".

"Huh?". You stared at him and Kakashi wished for the ground to swallow him. "Good. You should eat dinner. I guess that why you're in such good shape...I mean health! You're in good health! Ha ha stay healthy! See you later". You laughed nervously and went inside.

Kakashi stood there frozen staring at your gate. "You're hopeless boss". Kakashi blinked slowly and looked down at the pug. "I know".

-X-

Kakashi bumped into you again new days later at another shinobi's wedding. "Hi". You turned around to see Kakashi standing in an all Navy blue suit. "Hi! You look good". Kakashi gave you a closed eye smile. He wanted to compliment you but no words could describe how perfect you looked to him in your yellow sundress. "You .. look fine too". You nodded as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "Are you here with someone?". You asked taking a sip from your wine glass.

"No".

"Didn't find a date or the girl refuses?". Kakashi chuckled at your teasing voice. "Didn't find one".

"I don't believe that. The Kakashi Hatake didn't find a date?".

"Why is that hard to believe?".

"You have to be the most clueless person in all of Konoha if you have to ask that question Hatake". Kakashi squinted his eyes at you but then shrugged it off. "What about you?". His heart thumped in his chest waiting for your response.

"I came with Genma". Kakashi's eyes widened and then he frowned looking at Genma standing at a distance. "Everything okay?". You asked following his gaze. "Genma asked you of all the people?". Kakashi raised an eyebrow and your heart dropped to your stomach.

"I know I am not the best looking one of the lot but come on Hatake that's rude". You couldn't meet his eyes anymore and decided to fix your gaze on the ground instead.

Kakashi didn't understand what you meant. He was shocked Genma asked you because Genma was the one who pushed him to talk to you. But then it hit him. "No! Y/n no. I didn't mean that. I meant... I just-".

"It's alright.. I understand Genma has a slightly different type. Sorry if I made it awkward". You smiled trying to diffuse the situation. "No. I should be the one apologising. You are beautiful y/n and any guy would be lucky to be your date". You chuckled at him. "If you really want me to forgive you then you'll have to bear the punishment". You cocked you head to the side and smiled at him. "Anything you want".

"Ask me to dance with you".

"Y/n L/n will you have this dance with me?". Kakashi asked bringing his hand forward. You smiled and took his hand. "Gladly".

You swayed together to the song standing a little closer than most of the couples. You could feel the warmth of his hand deep into your skin and wondered if this was the right thing to do or were you raising your hopes to no avail?

Kakashi had never been this nervous. Like everything he did, he was good at formal dances too but he wasn't good at feelings. He wanted to relish the way you felt in his hands, he wanted to imprint the scent of your perfume in his mind, he wanted to hold you for the rest of his life.

Neither of you spoke a word but your body spoke the language unknown to both of you. When the song reached its end you looked up at Kakashi already looking at you. "Am I forgiven?".

"Yes. Yes you are".

-X-

For a month Kakashi tried to figure out his feelings. He has never felt this before. He never wanted to form permanent bonds because he knew the pain and suffering it eventually brings but then why did he want to spend every second of his day with you? Was it your snide remakes? Your ability to make anyone feel comfortable? Your nervous laugh? Or your eyes? He walked the empty streets of Konoha with his hands in his pocket wondering... "Oi! Hatake!". His head snapped forward when he heard your voice. He turned around and saw you jogging towards him. "What are you doing out so late?". He asked as your stopped to catch your breath. "I could ask you the same thing". You winked at him as your straightened up and fixed your hair behind the hairband. Kakashi sighed and continued walking with you beside him.

"Why do you call me Hatake?".

"I don't know". You said shrugging your shoulders. "I guess... It's because no one else calls you that?". Kakashi looked at you through the corner of his eyes. "You use it as my nickname?".

"I guess you can say that".

"Are we that close?". You gulped down and stopped walking. You stood two steps behind him fidgeting with your fingers thinking that maybe you assumed yourself to be too close than you were. "I .. I guess .. fine I'll stop calling you that". You answered giving your best polite smile trying your best to hide the hurt.

Kakashi mentally cursed himself at the words he chose and his heart dropped seeing the slight hurt in your eyes. "I didn't mean that".

"It's alright. I understand I mean maybe I overstepped some boundary..ha ha...sorry about that. Guess I'll stick to calling you Kakashi. Anyway I gotta get back to my...to my cat! Yeah she must be starving. Bye. See you around... Kakashi". You waved and ran off in the other direction.

Kakashi looked at your retreating figure and facepalmed himself. "FUCK!".

You reached your apartment and ran your hands over your face. "Fuck! Why am so so annoying?!". Your loud groan woke your cat up from his slumber and he purred stretching on the rug. "Now you're mad at me too?"

You were half way through brewing your coffee when you heard a knock on your door. You walked wiping your hand on the sides of your trouser. "Hi". Kakashi said as soon as you opened the door. "Hi". Both of you stood silently for few seconds. "Do you want to come in?". Kakashi nodded and you stepped aside letting him enter first.

"I got breakfast". You looked at the bags in his hand and nodded. "For me?".

"Yes. I ... You like cream bread from the bakery right?".

"I do".

"I do too". Kakashi spoke immediately. "I thought you didn't like sweets". You said as you set two cups on the table and turned away to check on the coffee. "I don't..but..I like you".

You felt blood rush to your cheeks and bit your lip hard to stop yourself from saying something stupid. You didn't know what to do. Should you pretend you didn't hear it? It must have been a mistake right? A slip of tongue?

"Y/n?". You flinched and turned around to see him standing in front of you. "Yeah?". Kakashi was nervous and his brain was fogged up with all the possibilities. But he knew this was not the time to think. "I like you... A lot ..".

You blinked slowly at him. Kakashi Hatake likes you? The Kakashi hatake likes you? Kakashi Hatake your crush likes you? "I .. I don't... Do you...I mean of course you do we are friends right? We .. we wouldn't be friends if you didn't like me right?". You laughed but Kakashi's stern expression didn't falter.

"No. I... I am in love with you". Time stopped for both of you as the words left his mouth. "you don't have to answer now or at all if you don't want to. But I had to tell you. I had to let you know because it was driving me insane. I .. I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember and I thought...I thought that I could push it away but I couldn't.. I couldn't stop falling for you and it's fine if you don't-".

"I do. I love you. I just didn't think you would...feel the same". Kakashi's heart kept out of his chest as he heard you say those three words. "I.. didn't think that-". Before you could finish your sentence Kakashi pulled you by your waist and crashed his lips on yours. You tiptoed and wrapped your arms around your neck as you felt his naked lips on yours. Kakashi kissed you like you held the breath he needed to live. You parted with pressed foreheads and panting chest. When you opened your eyes you saw his entire face for the first time ever. "Holy shit you're beautiful". You said as your held his face in your hand. Kakashi chuckled and brought your right arm to his lips and pressed a kiss in each knuckle. "Thank you".

"Can I call you Hatake now? I guess we're close enough for that". You smiled and Kakashi only pulled your closer into him running his hands along you back. "I might call you a Hatake too".

[fenra-bookswritings]

No Mercy

Fandom: The Originals

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Warning/s: kidnap, torture

Word Count: 651

Request: hi!! i have a klaus mikaelson x reader request. lucien kidnaps the reader and tortures them to get back at klaus. klaus is worried when the reader didn’t show for their date night. lucien sends him a video of the reader and klaus has to go save them

The video made Klaus’ heart stop dead, unable to tear his eyes away even though every second he stared at the screen was unbareable. 

There you were, battered, bloody and bruised, tied up at the mercy of your captor, begging for the man you loved to save you.

Lucien had you. Lucien was hurting you. He wanted Klaus to watch, to suffer, and it was working. 

The phone crumbled to pieces in Klaus’ grip, fear and worry replaced with a feeling of pure, unadulterated rage that flowed through every inch of his body. 

Lucien had you. And Klaus was going to tear this city apart to get you back if he had to, but he would be more than happy to settle with just Lucien. 

There would be blood in these streets tonight, and God help anyone who got in Klaus’ way.

-

Everything hurt, everything hurt so much that you could hardly bare it. But you held on, held on for Klaus, you knew he’d come for you. He always did.

You were still breathing, so you still had hope, even as Lucien continued to toy with you, you held on to that and it kept you going.

When the shouting started outside, followed by sounds of crashing and slamming, Lucien almost seemed amused. He’d put dozens of his best outside of his apartment doors, complete with spells designed to cause Klaus excruciating pain if he did manage to get passed them, trapping him. 

“Well, this should be interesting,” Lucien mused with a pat to your shoulder, listening to the sounds of fighting and the unmistakable sound of Klaus’ pain, something that seemed to hurt you more than the torture. 

“You’re underestimating him,” you managed, voice horse from your own screams as the noises beyond the door got quieter. 

Then… silence.

Your breath caught in your throat, trying to cling onto your hope as you waited second by excruciating second for something to happen, Lucien unable to contain his glee at the prospect of having trapped Klaus Mikaelson. 

It seemed like forever, unable to do so much as blink as you waited, but eventually the door creaked open.

Lucien’s smile faded in less than a heart beat, quickly replaced by horror as a figure emerged, covered in blood, eyes yellow and fangs sharp.

“Klaus,” you breathed, relief flooding through you as a small smile appeared on your face - he came for you. His eyes caught yours for a second, concern and worry clear, before he fixed his gaze back on Lucien, who was just snapping out of his shock.

He was fast, but Klaus was faster, and angrier, catching his former friend by the neck before you could fully register what was happening. 

“Now, Klaus-” Lucien tried to negotiate, finding it hard to speak as Klaus squeezed down, shutting him up. 

“I’ll deal with you later,” Klaus growled, a loud crunch sending a shiver down your spine as Lucien crumpled to the ground. 

Klaus’ anger disintegrated immediately, replaced by pure fear as he rushed to you, severing your bounds and catching you when you slumped forward. 

Your arms wrapped around him instantly, finding safety in his embrace. “Y/N,” he said softly, cupping your face gently and making you look at him as he bit his wrist and offered it to you.

Feeling your injuries patch up quickly was always a strange sensation, but it was welcome as you felt yourself being put back together. You couldn’t help it at that point, your relief overwhelming as you broke down into tears.

Klaus pulled you into him, stroking the back of your head. “You’re safe now,” he reassured, “I’ve got you.”

Words couldn’t express how grateful you were, and at that point you didn’t trust your voice, but you knew he knew, savouring his warmth as he put an arm under your legs and picked you up effortlessly.

“Let’s go home.” 

[fenra-bookswritings]

𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐬 🌹🎭

Pictures by: shutterstock.com

Like/ reblog if you save it not necessary, but it would be cute. <3

Do not repost without permission.

[fenra-bookswritings]

Spoiler!! Ive read some group discussion that mc's number was supposed to be richy's receipt number that hannah wanted to sent to alan but she mistakenly sent it to thomas (which thomas thought its a phone number). And i believe in this theory😀

Spoiler

Yes, that’s the theory I believe in the most, everything else just doesn’t make sense. There’s no reason MC could be involved.🥲

[fenra-bookswritings]

2022 Witch's Calendar

For all my witches out there, here's a handy list of the 2022 dates for the major holidays, full and new moons, and special events. I've listed my sources at the bottom. Dates and times for all events are calculated for Eastern Standard Time, USA, Northern Hemisphere. Adjust for your location as needed. Enjoy!

WOTY Holidays and Solstices

February 1-2 - Imbolc

March 20 - Spring Equinox / Ostara

May 1 - Beltane

June 21 - Summer Solstice / Midsummer

August 1 - Lughnasadh

September 22 - Autumn Equinox / Mabon

October 31 - Samhain

December 21 - Winter Solstice / Yule

Full Moons

January 17 - Wolf Moon ♋️

February 16 - Snow Moon ♌️

March 18 - Worm Moon ♍️

April 16 - Pink Moon ♎️

May 16 - Flower Moon ♏️

June 14 - Strawberry Moon ♐️

July 13 - Thunder Moon (aka Buck Moon) ♑️

August 11 - Sturgeon Moon ♒️

September 10 - Harvest Moon ♓️

October 9 - Hunter's Moon (aka Blood Moon) ♈️

November 8 - Frost Moon ♉️

December 7 - Cold Moon ♊️

Fun Fact: The title of Harvest Moon is given to either the September or October full moon, whichever falls closest to the autumn equinox. In 2022, that month will be September.

New Moons

January 2 ♑️

February 1 ♒️

March 2 ♓️

April 1 ♈️

April 30 ♉️

May 30 ♊️

June 29 ♋️

July 28 ♌️

August 27 ♍️

September 25 ♎️

October 25 ♏️

November 23 ♐️

December 23 ♑️

Special Events

April 30 - Black Moon & Partial Solar Eclipse (10:42pm EST)

May 16 - Total Lunar Eclipe (12:11am EST, coinciding with zenith)

June 14 - Supermoon

July 13 - Supermoon

October 25 - Partial Solar Eclipe (11:01am EST)

November 8 - Total Lunar Eclipse (5:59am EST, coinciding with zenith)

SOURCES:

Inverse - Full Moon 2022 calendar: Dates, times, schedule, and names for the brightest nights all year

Astroseek - Full Moons 2022 & New Moons

The Pagan Grimoire - The Wheel of the Year: The 8 Festivals in the Wiccan Calendar

[fenra-bookswritings]

[fenra-bookswritings]

The king of my heart ❤️

Hatake Kakashi throwing hands compilation