#The Pine Grove Boys

[unconventional-lawnchair]

A Second Chance pt.1 {Blurb}

Poly!Marauders+Lily x Fem!Reader - Zombie Apocalypse Au

New Perspective Noah Kahan

Masterlist

Summary: You find a group of survivors who could really use your help}

Cw; Guns, death, animal death, hunting, cussing, minor character death, insinuations of abuse (reader is worried about Lily alone with the boys), Zombie apocalypse typical violence, reader is crushing on Lily, infants)

Wc- 2091

In the heart of the wilderness, there was a serene and tranquil grove. Tall, majestic trees stood like sentinels; their branches reached towards the sky. Dappled sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting a gentle glow on the moss-covered ground below. The air was cool and crisp, carrying the refreshing scent of earth and pine, it was getting later.

There was suddenly a sharp and ear-piercing shot that rang out. You lifted your head from the scope of the ancient rifle, looking across the beautiful thicket, and eyes falling on the limp body of your prize.

You had been at it for hours, avoiding the doe’s, knowing they had young hidden deep within the grass, much like yourself now. You stood up, lifting the bandana over your nose and hurried down the hill you were perched on. Pulling out your carvers knife as you got to work on the old buck at your feet.

“I'm telling you, it was a gunshot.” You heard whispers from behind you, the sound of fresh grass making way to footsteps. Two of them. 

You quickly packed your plastic lined pouch and turned around, training your gun on the approaching forms behind you.

“Fuck-”

“What did I tell you!?”

There were two men. Great. Men. This close to your hideout? You needed to make your next move count. You could let them go, and risk them coming back to find you. You could shoot them both now and waste your very limited ammo. You could escort them out of the area but that would waste a day of travel. She couldn't wait. Your eyes scanned over their figures. The first one you saw had long black hair, a thin frame, tattooed pale skin and seemed to be the more pissed of the two. Seemed to be the one who heard the gunshot too. The other one was definitely taller, he had thick brown hair and startling hazel eyes. He seemed to be more of a threat out of the two, with his broader build and definitely gave the impression he was in charge.

You turned your gun to aim it at the taller one. His breath hitched and they both stared at you in panicked fear. “Wait wait wait.” He quickly pleaded, hands up and taking a small step back. 

“Don't move or I'm pulling the trigger.” You threatened and he winced.

The black haired boy moved to step in front of him, but you cocking your gun seemed to knock some sense into him. 

“Please, please don't shoot.” He pleaded. “I have a son, he's only a few weeks old. We have two other men in the group who are bedridden and injured. My wife is still recovering. We can't risk it.”

His pleading made your heart stop. It was so familiar it made your body ache.

~~~

“Please, please don't shoot.” He pleaded with the men in front of him. The camp was ransacked and some of the tents were set ablaze.

You and Regulus had made your way out of the camp late at night. You were going out patrolling, unable to sleep, and as usual, Regulus didn't want you going alone. 

On your way out Barty joined you. So of course, Evan wanted to tag along as well. You attempted to convince them that one able bodied person should stay behind. Mr. and Mrs. Granger had just brought a beautiful baby girl into the world, so Mr. Granger was hardly focused on watching the camp. 

A few others were there to watch over as well, but it was a big camp, and they needed all the help they could get. Evan teased you for your worry, no one had even passed your location in days. He still, however, promised to stay close to camp with Barty to patrol. Leaving you and Regulus to walk along the outermost parts of the camp.

Regulus eventually headed back, you stayed out. You loved the idea that people were still growing their lives even in such a desperate situation. But God, that baby did not know how to shut up. She was precious, from a distance.

You regretted that night.

You regretted so much of it.

When you made your way back the smell of burning flesh hit your nose first. You had to hold back the bile in your throat. You had come to be familiar with the stench of rot, but not when it was set ablaze.

You ran to camp and heard the commotion. You were gone for no more than ten minutes, and the sight of the dead bodies of your friends around you would be permanently etched into your mind. 

You couldn't focus on anything through the chaos, until you heard Mr.Granger pleading. He had his hands up, standing outside one of the only standing tents left. You snuck around, taking in the situation from outside of your clearly useless walls. He was cornered, four men around him while one of them held the arm of Mrs. Granger like a vice, taunting her husband.

You made eye contact with Mrs. Granger and hers widened. You slowly reached for your gun and her expression shifted to pure desperation. She kept glancing at the tent and your heart fell. Hermione was still in there.

You took a deep breath and cursed. Hurrying to sneak behind the tent and cut into it from the back. You gathered what you could, what little you were able to scavenge from towns for Hermione as well. You heard two gunshots, but you didn't want to think about it. Quickly covering Hermione’s mouth with your hoodie to keep her cries muffled.

You didn't look back, running as far away from the camp as possible. You came back the next morning and eventually managed to find your own supplies and one of the several cars they seemed to have left behind. Worrying they may come back for it, you packed up what you could and left in the dinghy vehicle.

That was only a month ago.

~~~

You couldn't do it. You couldn't pull the trigger. You slowly sighed and lowered your gun, much to the startled surprise of both boys. There was a loaded silence between you three before you bit your lip. Looking down at your bag you gestured to the venison on the ground. “You can have what’s left. I can only carry so much.”

“W-what?” The black haired boy muttered out and the brunette seemed to lighten up at your offer. Eyebrows raised and mouth slack.

“On one condition. I want to know where your camp is. And.. I want to meet the mother.” You gestured to the deer again, as if to entice them, and the brunette narrowed his eyes in confusion but the other seemed to catch on. Giving a firm nod and walking over to the buck. You flinched heavily to the side so as to not be too close to him.

“What's your name?” The taller boy asked and you snapped your attention to him. You creased your brow in suspicion but, what could they really do with just your name?

“{Y/N}.”

“{Y/N}? Nice to meet you. My name is James.” He introduced and offered his hand, You simply stared at him and he cleared his throat and tried to play off the obvious rejection. “A-and this is Sirius!” 

Said boy, Sirius, finally managed to get the deer over his shoulder before gesturing in front of him for you. “I’d rather stay behind you.” You huffed and he gave a brief nod. Turning with a hmph as he steadied the kill on his shoulder. 

~~~

You quickly learned, in your brief walk, just how much James seemed to like talking. You were starting to genuinely believe that he wasn't a threat, but more wondering how on god's green earth he survived this long with a trap like that.

Sirius, on the other hand, was quiet for the most part. He would ask you questions to gauge how comfortable you were and how much you were willing to share with them. Mostly nothing.

When you passed by a certain stick standing in the ground, James gestured ahead. You peaked past him and saw the camp. 

It was decent, but exposed. A large tent you assumed housed all of them, with a table and a campfire, the set up even allowed for the most sight around them. It was certainly temporary. The thought comforted you, but the idea they were traveling with an infant made you nervous.

“This is all?” You asked in a not intentionally condescending tone.

Sirius brushed past you and walked into the center of the clearing, dropping the load and standing up with a stretch. The tent door opened and you fixed your grip on the rifle, James grabbing the barrel and lowering it, earning a glare from you. Out limped a rather tall boy. Tanned skin, scar ridden, messy sandy blonde hair, and a clearly mangled leg. You took a deep breath. 

Okay, they housed the injured and kept them around. The leader of the group was rather charming but that could go both ways. You needed to see the girl.

As if he could read your thoughts, Sirius spoke up and drew Remus’s startled expression from you. “Remus, can you get Lily?”

“She's reading to Harry.” Who you assumed to be Remus muttered and glanced back at you. Sirius shook his head. “Just a moment.”

Remus eyed you for a second before he peaked back into the tent and muttered something. Eventually, a tall red head stepped out of the beige shelter and she looked at Sirius, clearly annoyed. “What? I just got Harry down.”

“We have a visiter. Wants to make sure you aren't being held here against your will.” Sirius cheeked and you gave a glare his way, he simply winked back. Much more playful in his own domain.

“What?” Lily muttered and looked up at you. Your eyes locked for a moment and her jaw rolled as she sized you up. You suddenly felt extremely self conscious. Then, the most dazzling smile appeared on her face. “You wanted to check on me? How old are you sweetness?”

Her tone gave you such a rush of comfort you didn't even think before you spoke. “N-nineteen,” You whispered and she placed a hand over her chest and cooed at you. “You're just a baby. Are you alone?”

“No, not… not really.”

Merlin, her voice was like a siren song. Your shoulders went limp and the gun lowered. James gave a knowing smirk and Sirius looked offended at your compliance with Lily’s questioning. How does she do that?

“Shouldn't you be heading back? Someone must be looking for you.” She fretted and you tried to steady your breath. Remus looked between you two and slowly settled against the base of a tree with a wince.

“N-not yet, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” You mumbled before you looked at James. He was smirking at you. He was smirking at you like your friend would in elementary before declaring he knew who your crush was. 

You snapped out of your trance and quickly took a few steps back. “Actually-”

Your remark was interrupted by a loud bout of thunder. You looked to the sky with the rest of the group and you heard a loud cry from inside the tent. You felt your stomach drop. You could care less about the boys, but you couldn't leave a week old child in the middle of a thunderstorm.

You watched as the tend opened again and a sickly, pale boy stepped out. He was taller than you with a bit of a belly, he seemed friendly to a fault, a small smile growing on his sleepy face. Lily walked over to him and picked up Harry with a thank you to Peter.

“We need to get to some serious shelter soon.” James huffed and you looked around at the worry on everyone’s faces. You finally let your morals win  over your common sense.

“I have a place.” You mumbled and Lily looked at you, startled.

“Honey, you really shouldn’t offer up-”

“I know, I know. Just..” You looked at Harry and Lily slowly smiled. She looked at the rest of the group and nodded. Peter seemed startled as he just noticed your presence, James seemed surprised just like Sirius. Remus seemed in distress, rubbing his leg as the storm grew closer. 

“We would love your help.”

[ghoulsbounty]

If you’re still taking requests I would love Baby Billy with the reader giving him a blowjob in a car if you can. You can do the plot and all that, thank you! I might request more if you’re taking them at the moment.

Heaven Itself

Uncle Baby Billy Freeman x Wife!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+), blowjob, oral (m receiving), cum eating (kinda), fingering, roadhead, spitkink-ish, rough oral sex, messy, face fucking, choking, gagging, dirty talk, reader is a good girl, porn with a little plot.

Word Count: 2.9K

A/N: OH BOY I love writing dirty things with this weird man. I realise I took 'giving him a blowjob in a car' and completely ran with it but I hope you enjoy it regardless, Anon. I’d love to know what you all think to this, and feel free to send me more requests 💌

It unfolded just as you had expected. You wished that Baby Billy would stop with the schemes, cease seeking approval from everyone else, especially his late sister's family. Yet, the allure of the coveted position of pastor at the new Locust Grove location, and the payday that would come with it, had drawn him back into their fold. You remained supportive, though with a quiet pessimism that always accompanied your husband's involvement with the Gemstones. It wasn't that you didn't like them, but they seemed to bring out the worst in him, and it was a side you rarely saw when it was just the two of you back home at Freeman's Gap.

Of course, it had happened again. Another argument with his brother-in-law, and Baby Billy had stormed out of the church, relinquishing the title of pastor and dragging you along with him to the car. It was a scene that played out at least once a month, and so when you caught Eli's exhausted eye roll as you were pulled through the doors, you gave him a silent nod. It was a signal that conveyed your resolve to sort everything out—not for Eli, of course, but for the sake of your husband's reputation and perhaps your own sanity.

Baby Billy gripped the wheel with white-knuckled intensity as you hurtled down the narrow, curving roads. The tires skidded on the tarmac with every tight turn, your stomach rising and falling with each dip as he accelerated so forcefully that you were pressed back into your seat. His eyes were wild, fixed in a furious glare at the road ahead, completely ignoring your pleas to slow down as your hand tightened around his thigh.

The rush of adrenaline coursed through your veins, mingling with a hint of fear as you clung to him, your heart pounding in your chest. Despite your attempts to calm him, he seemed consumed by a reckless determination, his foot heavy on the pedal as he pushed the car to its limits.

With each passing moment, the world outside became a blur, the only constants the roar of the engine beneath you and his frustrated rant about the head of the Gemstones. His words came out in a torrent of anger, punctuated by the car's aggressive growl as it hurtled forward.

"Fuck Eli Gemstone," he declared vehemently. "He thinks he's so high and mighty, but he'd be nothing without Aimee-Leigh. And who made her? That's right, Baby Billy Freeman, that's who. He'd be nothing without the both of us."

His words hung heavy in the air, charged with anger. The car sped on, each mile marker blurring past as he continued to vent his frustrations. His grip on the wheel remained tight as he poured out years of pent-up resentment.

You had heard it all before. You'd listened to him lament the loss of his sister and his career, watched him pine over what he had once had, and seen him almost scream in frustration over the fact that he had to keep going back to his brother-in-law for handouts.

The weight of his struggles was heavy on your shoulders, a burden you bore alongside him with each passing day. You had witnessed the toll it took on him, the way it gnawed at his pride and eroded his sense of self-worth. Yet, despite it all, he persevered, driven by a determination to reclaim what he had lost and prove himself worthy of the respect he felt he deserved.

After each failed business venture, it always took so long to rebuild Baby Billy, to piece him back together again. You had been through this cycle before, weathering the storms of disappointment and setbacks together. Each time, you had stood by his side, offering unwavering support and encouragement as he picked up the pieces of his shattered dreams. And as the darkened landscape passed you in a blur, you mentally prepared yourself for the arduous task ahead, knowing that it would begin with getting him out of his own head.

Your hand on his thigh slid higher, your fingers teasingly dancing over his crotch as you swiftly worked on the belt and zipper of his jeans. His rant lost momentum, his gaze locking onto you with a wondrous glint before watching your hand disappear into his pants.

"Keep those eyes on the road, Baby," you instructed, a mischievous smirk playing on your lips as you boldly grabbed his cock through his boxers. He emitted a low groan, desire igniting in his eyes, yet he dutifully complied with your command, refocusing his attention on the road ahead.

"Ol' Baby Billy getting some roadhead, now? Alright," he chuckled, a playful twinkle in his eyes as he adjusted himself in his seat and spread his legs wider, eagerly anticipating your next move.

Baby Billy seethed through his teeth as you liberated his cock from the confines of his tight jeans, already half-hard and throbbing in your palm. You felt the weight of him as he sat thick and heavy in your hand, hummed affectionately when he pulsed against your touch.

With practiced skill, you began to stroke him gently, feeling him grow harder, larger, in your grip. Your thumb traced teasing circles over his weeping slit, eliciting a low, guttural moan from him as he instinctively bucked into your hand, craving more of your touch.

You chuckled, unclipped your seatbelt and manoeuvred in your seat so that your legs were folded beneath you, leaning over the arm rest that sat between you both. His hand closest to you left the wheel, hung over you almost hesitantly before resting on your back with a soothing stroke. 

The air around you crackled with tension, the sound of his ragged breaths mingling with the steady hum of the engine as he slowed the car to an normal-pace. You smiled to yourself, inwardly praised yourself for knowing how this man ticks. You always managed to bring him back from the ledge that he put himself on. 

As you took one tentative lick at his slit, Baby Billy gasped, his grip tightening on the fabric of your dress. You squeezed the base of his cock, flicking your tongue over him again and lapping at the salty tang that you craved.

"Oh, fuck," he gasped, his hips instinctively rutting upwards for more as you pulled away with a teasing smile. Undeterred, you continued to stroke him leisurely, lifting your head up to kiss him momentarily on the cheek before dipping back down. With deliberate slowness, you spat a thick slew of saliva onto his aching, red tip before spreading it over him with your tongue, eliciting a low groan of pleasure from him.

"Well, if that ain't the best gotdamn thing I've ever felt," he sighed with satisfaction, his hand releasing its grip on your dress to tangle into your hair. "Hallelujah!"

As you hummed appreciatively around his cock, he guided your head down further, his hand urging you to take him in completely. The sensation of your throat constricting around him was intoxicating to him, a release of pent-up frustrations manifested in the rhythmic thrusts of his hips. Each choked gasp and whimper that escaped your lips fuelled his desire, a primal need to dominate and possess.

This dynamic between you had evolved over time, growing increasingly raw and intense with each passing year. You had embraced your role as the devoted wife, willing to fulfil his desires and provide him with the release he sought, no matter how unconventional or demanding they may be. And for Baby Billy, this unwavering loyalty was a source of comfort, a reassurance that despite the challenges and setbacks he faced, you would always be there for him, ready to support and submit to his needs.

You concentrated on keeping your jaw how you knew he liked it—slack and drool dripping down his shaft as he began to bob your head up and down with his grip in your hair. He set a rhythm that had you gasping for breath. The slickness between your thighs grew with each thrust, the taste of him—a salty bitterness—overwhelming your senses as he bullied his way deep into the back of your throat.

"Fuck, you look so good like this," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. "Choking on my cock, drool everywhere... you love it, don't you?" His hips thrust harder, his grip in your hair tightening as he took his pleasure from your willing mouth.

You squeezed your thighs together in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure building between them. His words of praise and filthy words always had you burning for his touch, your desire growing with each moment as he continued to use your mouth as a cocksleeve. Yet, despite the overwhelming urge to seek your own pleasure, your focus remained solely on his.

His grip on the back of your head tightened as he began to thrust up to meet the descent of your mouth, his movements growing more urgent with each passing moment. You felt a sharp intake of breath escape him as he pushed down roughly, hitting the back of your throat yet again but holding you there, your breath cut short as his cock filled your mouth entirely and you retched around him. His prideful chuckle cut through the air, and you clenched your eyes shut, thinking of how bruised you were going to be after this but revelling in it none the less as you willed your throat to relax it's spasms. 

Finally, he released you, bringing you up for a gasp of air as your fat tears mixed with the thick saliva coating your chin. You took in deep, ragged breaths, your chest heaving with exertion as you blinked away the tears. Your body trembled from the intensity he loved to put you through, every nerve ending alight with sensation.

He looked down at you with a mixture of pride and satisfaction, his thumb brushing away a tear from your cheek. "That's my girl," he murmured, his voice low and filled with affection. "Always so good for me."

You shivered at his words, the ache between your thighs was almost unbearable, your arousal heightened by his praise and the soft touch amidst the rough handling.

"Such a good girl," he repeated, his hand moving to cup your cheek. His fingers traced your lips before slipping inside your mouth. "Get them good and wet, now."

You eagerly obeyed, swirling your tongue around his fingers as he watched you intently, his gaze dark with desire and satisfaction. Pulling his fingers from your mouth, he suddenly veered off the road, coming to a hard stop on the dirt path. You jolted back against your seat, Baby Billy pulling you back over the armrest with your face in his lap and your ass in the air, on display to anyone who would drive past you on the dark back road. The hand that was on the wheel now gripped the back of your head instead, guiding your mouth back to his cock with a sense of urgency.

As he directed you with one hand, the other deftly flipped up the fabric of your dress, slipping beneath your soaking underwear. The touch of his fingers against your heated flesh sent a jolt of electricity through you, igniting a fire of desire that burned hot within you.

You moaned around him as his digits glided through your wet folds, your body instinctively seeking more of his touch as you swivelled your hips back hungrily to find friction against his palm. He laughed, his head thrown back against the headrest as he looked down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"I know you get yourself all worked up looking after me, now," he told you, the warmth of his voice sending shivers down your spine. "But you know Baby Billy will look after you too, sweetheart. A man's got to see to his wife."

You whimpered as two fingers entered you, thick and demanding, your body eagerly accepting the intrusion as you arched against his touch. The squelch of your cunt burned your cheeks with embarrassment as he fucked his fingers in and out of you with a relentless pace. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, building the tension in your body to unbearable heights.

Your screams vibrated around his cock as his thumb rubbed deliberate circles on your clit, sending sparks of ecstasy shooting through you. The pleasure was intense, overwhelming, as he expertly manipulated your sensitive nub, driving you closer and closer to the edge with each tantalizing stroke.

His other hand now rested at the back of your neck, holding you in place as his hips thrust up to fuck your mouth aggressively. You remained slack-jawed and slobbering over him, completely at his mercy as he took control. This was Baby Billy in his element, relishing in the power he held over you, using your mouth as a tool for his pleasure while simultaneously bringing you to your own bliss. 

He liked to push you to your limits, to see how much you could take as he drove himself deeper and deeper into your throat. Each thrust was met with a gasp from you, your body straining to accommodate his relentless rhythm. Yet, despite the discomfort, you remained obedient, knowing that this was what he wanted, what he needed.

"I know you like it," he groaned, his eyes closed when your tongue began to lap greedily at his cock with every thrust. "Fuck, you love it when I fuck your mouth, don't ya? Having you here, stuffed with my fingers and my cock, you—fuck—you just eat that shit right up." His voice was rough with desire, each word punctuated by the rhythm of his thrusts as he surrendered to the pleasure coursing through him

You could feel it building, the tell-tale signs of his impending release. His thighs tightened, his hips stuttered against you, and his breathing became ragged as praise fell from his lips. You knew it was coming soon, the moment when he would finally give you his load, and you braced yourself for the inevitable surge of ecstasy.

You were almost there, too. The familiar pit in your lower stomach, the delicate feeling of teetering on the edge as his fingers curled inside of you, pressing into that spongey spot that had you seeing stars. A muffled cry escaped your lips as you pushed back to meet his relentless assault on your cunt, the intense pleasure overwhelming your senses.

The sensation was electrifying, every nerve in your body tingling with anticipation as you rode the waves of ecstasy crashing over you. With each thrust of his fingers and each stroke of his thumb on your clit, you felt yourself spiralling closer and closer to the edge.

And then it hit you, a wave of pleasure so intense it left you breathless. Your body convulsed with the force of your orgasm, pleasure rippling through you as you cried out. The sloppy sounds of him fucking you through your orgasm filled the car as you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure shooting through you.

"That's it, let Baby Billy hear you, now," he panted, grinning as your garbled mewls grew louder, more spit gushing around him as he refused to stop his ministrations against you. You tried to wriggle away from his attention, your cunt now swollen and clenching around his digits that remained buried inside you. He chuckled breathily, his fingers coming to a still as they slid from you. He ran his hand up the expanse of your back.

Your body relaxed against the leather seat, tired and spent from your orgasm as your fingers released their tight grip on the arm rest. You pulled away from him, sucked in a deep breath, a string of spit connecting from his cock to your glistening lips. You felt empty and groaned at the loss of fullness, but didn't have time to contemplate it before both Baby Billy's hands were in your hair, using them to shove his way inside of you ruthlessly. He fell into a maddening pace, his hips rutting as his drool covered sac slapped against your chin. 

"That's it angel," he said encouragingly, his breath short as he dropped his head back to stare up at the ceiling. "You take everything I give you."

With a few more powerful thrusts, he comes with a loud shout from deep in his chest, releasing thick, white ropes down your throat. You swallow quickly, determined to take his heavy load as he desires, but there's always so much of it. It drips from the corners of your mouth, rolls down your chin as your chest heaves to suppress the rest of it. After the last few spurts have subsided, you lick diligently at his swollen tip, gratefully lapping up any traces that you couldn't take beforehand. Tucking him back inside his jeans, you raise back onto your knees to look at him with a fucked out gaze that has his chest warming.

He smiled at you with tired eyes, reaching out to cup your cheek. With a gentle swipe, he collected the salty residue of his release from your chin and guided it back between your lips. He was adamant that not a drop of him go to waste. You obediently cleaned it from his thumb, watching him through wet lashes before pulling away with a soft pop.

Your husband held your chin between his thumb and finger, giving it a slight shake as he smiled. His voice was laced with satisfaction and affection as he murmured, "Sent from Heaven itself."

[malscare]

Heyyyy I literally don't care enough to get into a whole thing about (hence, anon) but since you have like pronouns in bio and stuff I'm guessing you're probably not down with the many hateful bigoted right wing people jeremy fragrance has consorted with in the past. I'm sorry I know this is like an annoying ask to get but like I keep seeing people post him like he's a harmless little funny boy but he literally makes my nape hair stand on end like literally a fell wind blows on the horizon when I see him. I have prophetic powers btw so basically I'm pretty sure there will be some kind of dark cataclysm related to his activities. I actually had this sense from before I even knew he was rubbing cocks with right wing nutjobs like I kept getting these visions of him in a misty grove of pine trees surrounded by women wearing white robes and they stepped forward one by one and stabbed him with knives carved from the jaw bone of a giant megalithic carnivore. Anyway have a Gouda day ✌️🧀

what if in my vision he was mommy's perfect little pogchamp princess

[underdark-dreams]

I got too excited and finished the second chapter 👀 [ch1]

A Strand to Climb - Ch.2

Tav finally catches up with her wizard at Sorcerous Sundries; Rolan has some complicated feelings about seeing her again.

Tags: Reunions, Mutual Pining | Word Count: 3,042 [Read on AO3]

The next day dawned just as gloomy and gray as Rolan’s mood. 

He hadn't slept well in his chilly room at the Tower; the flesh beside his brow was bruised deeper than he’d realized. His fretful dreams of shadow curses and illithid monstrosities had been laced through with the dull ache in his skull.

As a result he’d been short with the customers this morning. It didn’t really matter—no one cared about the boy behind the counter. People tended to look through him, if they looked at him at all. 

No doubt his bruised and beaten appearance made people uncomfortable. Rolan knew Lorroakan didn’t care a jot for his wellbeing, but he did wonder why the man wouldn’t avoid damaging the first face people saw when they walked in. It couldn’t be good for business. 

These days Rolan found himself more of a shopkeeper than a student, after all. 

With that thought in mind, he pulled the large book of figures up onto the counter. At least there was plenty of work there to occupy him—Lorroakan had been an atrocious bookkeeper.

By the time midday dragged along, Sorcerous Sundries had cleared out almost completely. The sky outside the wide front entry had darkened further from the approaching storm. Periodically a humid breeze would gust through the doorway. Each time, Rolan had to grab hold of the pages of his ledger before he lost his place.

Eventually he shoved the thing aside in impatience, thunking a heavy potion bottle down on top to weigh down the page. 

From its hiding place among the scroll shelves, Rolan instead pulled out a stained and dogeared volume: Suspended Ceremorphosis. He'd swiped it from the tower while Lorroakan was engaged with yet another so-called Nightsong hunter. 

Lorroakan certainly wouldn’t miss the text. He hadn't maintained the protective spells on the reference section of his library the way he had the sections on spellcraft and the Weave. Evidently he thought everyone must have the single-minded and incurious lust for power that he did himself.

Rolan had never thought of himself as having a weak stomach, yet he found he had to take the text in small doses. The only thing that kept him reading it was a promise he’d made to Tav many moons ago, on a night when hope was easier to come by.

Whoever had authored it must have been a surgeon—more likely a necromancer. Each gruesome detail was described thoroughly, almost lovingly in some passages. 

Rolan forced his way through as many pages as he could manage. Combined with the painstaking diagrams of each stage of the infection and transformation, he found it painful reading. Especially when it directly concerned one of the people he cared about most in all the Realms. 

Who knew if Tav still even needed his help after all this time? She’d proven herself far more resourceful than him on many occasions. Maybe she was already on the trail for a proper cure by now. Maybe he was just wasting his time.

Rolan abruptly pushed this book aside too, turning back to his ledger again for the reprieve of sordid coin. 

All things considered, Sorcerous Sundries was thriving. The citizens of Baldur’s Gate were shaken, borderline terrified by the recent march of the Absolute's forces…and frightened people spent gold on anything they thought might keep their families safe. Rolan summed last week's numbers a second and a third time, convinced he must have added a figure somewhere.

A brash voice outside pierced his concentration. Rolan glanced up sharply to the open doors, quill poised on the page. 

Suffering hells. Aradin again? Whether or not he’d actually been involved in this week’s clumsy burglary attempt, he should have the common sense not to show his face.

The mercenary had been no rosy presence back at the Grove, and he was a constant bane at the magic shop ever since Rolan had been placed on front desk duties. He was always appearing to insist on a private audience with Lorroakan, or some great sum owed to him, or some other equally improbable outcome depending on the day. 

Just as Lorroakan had accused him of last night—ungratefully—Rolan had finally taken it upon himself to charm the metal construct at the door to turn him away on sight.

As he watched, Aradin jabbed a threatening finger into the construct's face, as if it might be intimidated into compliance. 

Thick fucking idiot, Rolan thought viciously. He had no patience for this today. Right as he set down his pen, someone else caught Aradin's attention from behind.

If not for her change in attire, he would have recognized Tav’s figure at first glance. But then Aradin shifted slightly as he spoke, and Rolan caught sight of her face.

The city seemed to be treating her well; he was relieved to see it. Her features were bright and well-rested for once, despite the scowling line of her brows as she squared her shoulders toward Aradin. 

For the first time in days, Rolan managed a faint smile. She never did like bullies. 

She'd commissioned fine new armor—perhaps from Dammon's forge up the street. Tav shone like an aasimar despite the overcast day behind her. The thought occurred with not near enough force to distract him from gaping at her lovely face.

His face. Zurgan—

Rolan’s spine straightened with a jerk. Why hadn’t he prepared for how she might react? How he might explain his pathetic appearance? He’d forgotten to anticipate any of it properly, and found himself blinded by panic.

There was no time to unfreeze his boots from the floor—Tav and her companions were already sweeping past Aradin and into the shop. 

Her gaze landed on Rolan before any of the rest even noticed him. His heart hammered in his chest as he watched her expressions play out in quick succession: dismay, then concern, then indignation. 

The way her eyes traveled over his face made Rolan wish he could melt into an invisible puddle. But such powers were beyond him—all he could do was stand mute as Tav drew up to the counter in front of him.

“Welcome to Sorcerous Sundries.” Rolan spoke the usual lines, and hated the falseness of his voice as he did so.

Tav only blinked at him for a moment. “Hi,” she replied softly. 

The two of them looked at each other for what felt like an age. It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, in truth. Her eyes were wide and wholly inescapable. Rolan found his mind full of many words, all of which refused to exit his mouth.

“Oh shit, Rolan? What happened to your face, mate?” 

The towering Tiefling hellfighter spoke up before either of them could. She was peering at him from behind Tav’s shoulder with an expression of guileless concern.

“Karlach—” Tav wheeled on her with a soft admonition. 

She was trying to spare his pride. For some reason, that made Rolan feel lower than ever. As Tav turned back to him with a tight smile, he hoped the patchwork of bruises on his face hid its flush of abject humiliation.

Tav opened her mouth, but Rolan rushed to speak first. “I expect you’re here to see Master Lorroakan.”

Something flickered behind her eyes. “We are,” was all she answered.

“Then you’ll find the portals to the Tower upstairs. Do be careful to choose correctly the first time, it’s a great deal of trouble getting back in here if you don’t—Lorroakan has little patience for anyone who might waste his time—” 

Rolan was fussing with his ledger and rifling through the pages as if it contained much important work he had to get back to. Anything to avoid looking at her anymore.

“Right…thanks, Rolan.” Tav’s voice was uncertain. He clenched his jaw against a sudden pang of remorse. “See you later, then?” 

Rolan nodded tersely down at his work. He made no other answer.

She lingered for just a moment as the rest of her friends departed for the staircase. Then Rolan heard the metallic clinking of her plate armor as she too moved away. 

He kept his head bent doggedly over his book as she did. Rolan’s eyes pretended to move over the page, seeing none of it. His ears were trained behind him to track Tav’s footfalls on the stairs. 

When he heard the rushing whirl of a portal activating above, he stayed frozen for a few seconds to be sure. Then he shut the ledger with a snap.

And like a shameful coward, he ran to hide.

At least Rolan had enough sense to summon his master’s projection before he turned on his heel. Not a familiar incantation, but he glimpsed the Weave successfully materializing from over his shoulder as he swept toward the concealed door under the great staircase. 

His fingers fumbled for a key at his belt—the one Tolna had lent him his first day. Once the door latched behind him, he stumbled down the dark stairs into the ancillary storeroom.

The place was full of more dust than anything else. Rolan coughed and sneezed several times before he managed a simple cantrip to light one of the torches along the wall. 

Then he sank down onto an empty crate, slumped against the bookshelf behind him, and leaned the tips of his horns back against its dusty volumes.

What in the hells was he doing?

Living the life he’d chosen, Rolan answered himself. Tend the shop, ascend for lessons—sleep and repeat. 

For how many years? One, two? Five? 

Five years as a wizard’s apprentice was rare, but not unheard of. And Lorroakan didn't strike him as a man who readily dismissed his apprentices from service. 

What exactly did he expect Tav to do for the next five years? Surely not wait around for a pathetic wizard-in-training who didn't have the strength to fight back against his own worthless master.

Sitting in this damp basement, surrounded by cobwebs, Rolan couldn't think of a single good reason why someone like her might still want someone like him. 

An old, familiar feeling slithered through his gut. Unwanted.

It was true that Lorroakan had proved more of a disappointment than he could possibly have imagined. But the man had one advantage over every other archwizard Rolan had written to over the years, pleading for a chance to prove himself. 

Lorroakan was the only one who had accepted him in.

Whatever the archwizard’s many deficiencies, they did nothing to change the other advantages this apprenticeship could grant him. Notoriety, privilege, access. The wizarding circles of Faerûn didn’t open for just anyone, especially not a bastard Tiefling. Not unless you had connections.

So what if he had feelings for Tav. Strong ones. Ones he sometimes wished he could make disappear…despite the way she continually visited his dreams. This apprenticeship was something Rolan had dreamed of for far longer.

And what about her feelings?  

She'd told him she loved him many times during their last brief nights together at Last Light Inn. On one particularly memorable occasion, she'd been naked on top of him. 

Rolan had replayed the moment in his head too many times to count, yet it never failed to set his heart racing.

But those were moments when blood ran hot from freshly escaped peril—moments suspended in forgiving shadow. Under the harsh light of day, perhaps Tav could finally see him clearly.

Rolan’s hands rose to his face. He prodded and felt along its planes with his fingers, gritting his teeth as he rediscovered each fleshy bruise and scrape on its surface. He was a mess of a man.

Abruptly, Rolan shook his head to clear away all this self-pitying nonsense. His thoughts turned back to Tav’s current audience with Lorroakan. 

He wondered what they spoke of. Perhaps the Nightsong; perhaps her parasite. 

If Lorroakan knew anything about Illithids or ceremorphosis—an idea that seemed more laughable by the day—Rolan prayed to all the gods that he’d have the decency to share his knowledge with her. 

Whatever the subject, their conversation was brief. 

Rolan’s ear caught the muffled hum of the portal once again and knew Tav and her companions had descended from the Tower. He waited a few more minutes to be sure, then rose to trudge back up to the main floor. When stepped back into the light, she and her companions were gone. 

Rolan had no right to feel as disappointed as he did. He was the one who’d hidden from her like a child, after all.

As his feet dragged him back behind the counter, Rolan realized that in his haste he’d left out the stolen book on ceremorphosis—turned open to a particularly gruesome illustration. 

He thanked his stars that it had been Tav and her friends paying a visit. Another customer might have been put off by the sight, enough so that a complaint made its way back to Lorroakan. The archwizard was jealous as a dragon when it came to guarding his hoard, however little personal interest he took in its riches.

As he picked up the tome to hide it away again, a small slip of parchment fluttered from between its pages to land on the counter in front of him. Rolan turned it over, then felt his heart repeat the motion.

Had he truly never seen her handwriting before? The letters were small and even, yet clearly written in haste:

Let’s talk alone. I love you

ps  thank you for the research

Whatever information Lorroakan had provided her, if she was thanking him for reading a dusty book, it must not have been worth much. 

Despite every weight pulling on his heart, Rolan reread each word several more times. Then he slipped the note gently into the pocket of his robes. 

—

“Hey! You coming?”

“One second,” Tav called over her shoulder. 

She hastily fit a postscript onto the small scrap of parchment. Then she slipped it like a page marker into Rolan’s book and laid his quill back on the counter.

It was obvious that Rolan wanted to avoid running into her a second time. A sad pang ran through her at the thought, but she couldn’t really blame him. She’d never seen him looking so miserable—not even that night after his siblings had been taken to Moonrise. 

Lia’s words from yesterday rang in her ears. I don’t think he’s treating Rolan well. Whatever dark things Tav had imagined, they hadn’t prepared her for the sight of Rolan’s face—plainly dappled with weeks of brutal mistreatment.

Her fingers clenched hard at her sides. Tav glanced up at the shimmering projection of Lorroakan behind the counter and quelled the furious urge to put a fist right through its vapid smile.

As she jogged back out through the atrium of Sorcerous Sundries, Karlach turned to fall into stride beside her. The other two had walked ahead, clearly unaware that they’d left anyone behind. Gale was gesticulating animatedly about something; Wyll listened politely at his shoulder.

“So that Lorroakan’s a real prick,” Karlach remarked with characteristic bluntness as they walked. 

Tav gave a harsh laugh. “Read my mind.”

“How d’you think he knows about the Nightsong?”

She had been asking herself the same question. Her mind’s eye conjured up the circle of runes in his study, the one he’d indiscreetly shown off to them on this very first meeting. 

It had Balthazar’s fingerprints all over it.

“Probably has a background in necromancy,” Tav guessed aloud. “No way to know for sure.”

Karlach’s palm rang against plate metal as she clapped it between Tav’s shoulder blades. “Until we kick his arse and charm it out of him, you mean.”

Tav only smiled weakly in response. Inside, she could scarcely wait for the day when Lorroakan would get what was coming to him.

Beside her, a mischievous chuckle was rising from Karlach’s chest. “Hells, imagine when we tell Aylin. She’s going to tear that man apart.”

“Let’s not tell her just yet,” Tav said in a rush.

She felt Karlach’s eyes search her face. “Why not?”

Tav looked down at the cobblestones as they continued. “Rolan and I need to talk, Karlach. Whether or not he wants to, I owe it to him. He should know everything before all the Nightsong’s righteous vengeance comes down on his archwizard’s head.”

There was a pause. “You don’t think he knows?” 

“No way.” She looked up at Karlach then, her face steely-certain. “Rolan would never do something like that.”

“Yeah…you’re right. Forget I said anything,” Karlach added, her tone apologetic. Before she knew it, Tav felt a warm arm jostle around the pauldrons on her shoulders. 

“Listen, Tav, it’s gonna be okay. You and Rolan will talk it through, or maybe you’ll just fuck his stubborn wizard brains out again—”

“Karlach!”

“Oh come on, like everyone doesn’t already know?” Karlach was cracking up loud enough that Wyll glanced back from in front to see the commotion. Tav couldn’t help an embarrassed laugh, but she hid half her face behind a hand.

Before long, the dark stormclouds gathering above put a pause on the rest of their errands in the Lower City. It seemed wise to just wait out the weather at their rented room in the Elfsong.

Karlach did make some excuse or other to swing by Dammon’s forge instead—despite the fact that they’d been just yesterday.

Tav said nothing, but she wasn’t fooled. To borrow Karlach’s words, if anyone needed to fuck anyone else’s brains out, those two were obvious candidates.

With thunder rumbling on the horizon, everyone else settled into their private corners of their quarters for the rest of the afternoon. Shadowheart and Lae’zel turned to meditation; Gale to the large stack of books that he always mysteriously managed to fit in his pack. Astarion was curled in front of the fire, his lips moving silently as he pored over a book on Infernal.

For a few hours, Tav found herself with no plans and no responsibilities.

Though her new armor from Dammon was exquisite, she exchanged it for some more inconspicuous clothes, then pinned her heavy hooded cloak around her shoulders for the inevitable rain. 

And with everyone else occupied, she slipped unnoticed out of their rooms and back down to the streets.

[the-hurrucanes-remnants]

TMA Entities as Colorado Gothic things

The Buried - Do not explore the mines alone. The mountains are hungry, the gold rush gave them a taste for blood and they want more. They have not been fed in years.

The Corruption - Pine Beetles turning once green mountainsides grey with the corpses of the trees they devour.

The Dark - Have you ever been camping in the depths of the Rockies? You'll want to keep a lantern with you.

The Desolation - The summer and fall wildfires and the smoke that wafts over the front range from them, sometimes swallowing the mountains and burning your eyes.

The End - The coffin races in Manitou Springs.

The Extinction - The alleged bunkers under DIA.

The Eye - Have you ever been in a grove of aspen trees?

The Flesh - Greely. Need I say more?

The Hunt - Do not investigate the yowls of the coyotes at night. No matter how human they sound.

The Lonely - The open plains of the east. Don't bother with the few and far-between farmhouses, all you'll find are splinters and mold.

The Slaughter - There's a reason the rocks are such a bright red here.

The Spiral - The Stanley Hotel isn't haunted. Oh boy is it not haunted, but trying to understand what lurks there will simply twist your mind further.

The Stranger - You're not sure if the person who went to the four corners is the same person who came back.

The Vast - Be careful when you visit Rocky Mountain National Park. The sky might just snap you up if you get too close to the edges.

The Web - Ever notice Buell theater's show attendees never notice the strings?

[aquanova99]

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕡𝕙𝕚𝕞

Azriel x OC

Part 2

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➽───────────────❥

Cassian leans against the wall as Nesta paces across the stone floor, knowing better than to interrupt when shes upset. Nesta was not blind she knew he was just as worried, if not more so for their friend. She stopped to go to him grabbing his shaky hand that was anxiously tracing over one of his syphon.

“I’m sorry.”

“I assume he’s still not saying anything.” When she shakes her head Cassian just takes a deep breath, “So, whats the plan now?”

“We could ask him for help. Have him join us to the town house. Maybe seeing Nyx will help. It has to be his choice, but…” Nesta shakes her head and presses her lips together, Cassian just brings her into him. Neither of them understanding what it was they had done to let their friend feel so isolated he couldn’t even speak to them.

Azriel for his part tried a bit more with Nesta, both of them having an understanding. After Luminia Grove, after Callista he found himself furious. Furious…and doubtful. He saw everything that had happened to him and questioned why? Why couldn’t his father simply leave him and his mother somewhere? Why did his half brothers hate him so much? Why did he agree to an alliance with two boys who beat him just as bad as anyone else in his life. They hated eachother until one day they simply didn’t.

He had pushed down all of his anger and it was as if it couldn’t be contained anymore. Never had he understood Nesta more. So his yelling was reserved for Cassian. Rhysand. Mor and Elain received silence. He no longer had the energy to try and untangle his feelings. Especially when, during his brief moments of lucidity, he only thought of Callista.

He can hear Nesta outside of his door. Waiting for him to be finished with his food, he sighed pulling out his pendant for only a second before speaking, “Nesta, you may come in. I wont bite your head off.”

“Yeah, that’s the issue I’m having. Can Cassian come?” Azriel’s lips tightened but he nodded. They both sat on a lounge chair, directly across from the bed Azriel sat. The shadows seeming unnervingly still.

“Az. He’s going to demand we go visit him soon if you don’t get out of this bed.” Cassian starts

“Maybe I should hike an entire mountain until I snap out of it.” He grumbles, he takes a deep breath at Cassian’s flinch. He knows he’s being too harsh when Nesta squeezes his hand, “I don’t want to see him.”

“We understand. I don’t like seeing him either.” Nesta shrugged, “But, we can see Nyx.”

Azriels chuckles, It has been awhile. Really he hasn’t been talking because its easier to talk about anything besides what happened those days he was gone. It seems ridiculous, he pines for his friend for centuries, then tries to be with someone because somehow each of his so called brothers are with her sisters, now all he could think about another woman who offered him a home, no stipulations or trials required. Apparently that was all it took. It was pathetic. He needed to forget the small hideaway he had found. And at the same time, he needed to figure out the protection spell. Why did he even want to help? His mind was racing nonstop, his headaches worse than ever. He couldn’t talk about it… So, instead, what does he do? Lash out.

“I—

“We won’t talk about it.” Nesta says

“Its not that. I don’t—I don’t understand whats happening…”

“Because your brain is reacting. As if you’re trying to survive something.” Azriel and Cassian stare, “When I was angry, and before I went on that…uhm mountain trip. I—Well it was like I was telling my mouth to stop talking but everything that came out was…mean and cruel. Like a part of me wanted everyone to either feel how I was feeling or make them leave me alone so I could stay miserable.”

The two ilyrian men stared at her. Cassian ready to get on his knees and beg for her forgiveness again, Azriel ready to tell them everything. He did everything to hold his tongue. He quietly says he will go. Neither Nesta nor Cassian argue, and quickly lead the way out. First he had to get over this, and talk to Rhys about the spell. Talk to Rhys about the spell. He repeated in his head over and over. He repeated it so much he wasn’t even aware he had made it to the town house he used to reside in. The rooms that once held so much warmth and safety now made him anxious. Though he never took it off he still patted around his neck to make sure his amulet was still there, still hidden. The long corridor to where he knew he would encounter Feyre and Rhysand filled him with dread, the shadows warned him of the upcoming interrogation, which truly, he expected. Nonetheless… how much would he be able to say. How much should he reveal?

Feyre greeted him first, enveloping him in a warm hug he felt safe to return, “Azriel…We’re happy you could come see us.”

“I really just wanted to see Nyx, if that’s okay?” He could see the hurt in Feyre’s eyes, he was told how Elain’s face turned into a scowl, he could hear Amren scoffing as she sat on the floor across from Rhys, but he could also feel how Feyre was willing to accept his answer.

“Of course, its not okay.” Rhysand said, “You’ve been missing for months, then you decide to ignore your friends, your duties. Need I remind you that Bryaxis is still out there?” Of course not. Along with his order to stay away from one of the people he was friendly with, the fact he couldn’t find him so easily infuriated him. Nothing had ever stopped his shadows from discovery. It was as if whatever that thing was, the creature that seemed to haunt Cassian every time it was brought up…it terrified even the shadows that kept him company.

“Don’t you dare imply I haven’t been doing everything I can for this court.” No. Stop. Take a breath he told himself,

“I have continued my duties. There is nothing to report. Everything has been silent. I would request you not question my abilities.” Rhysand lips tightened, Feyre glaring at him screaming at him mentally to play nice. He mentally distanced himself, shutting down any emotion threatening to spill over.

“Stop. Please,” Rhysand’s voice softened, “You don’t have to speak so formally. I—we’ve never spoken to each other like that.”

“Right.” Azriel scoffed, “I think it’s best I remember my place. You are my high lord. I am just your spy master, and I will continue to do my duties for the Night Court. As I have been.”

“Rhysand…” Feyre use of his full name caught everyone’s attention but it did not deter her mate. Nesta glared, for someone who always judged how she reacted to others he was always quick to act just the same. Saying things, sometimes hurtful things, to mask his own hurt. Hypocrite. Nesta sneered when Rhysand glared in her direction.

“Very well, then you can tell me exactly where you were for those three months.”

“Rhys. Stop.” Cassian pleaded

“No. We deserve to know. Something happened while he was gone. If he was only doing his duties he should be able to tell us, right?” Amren said with a pinched smile

“He left because obviously someone doesn’t know when to leave things well enough alone.” Nesta glared at Rhysand, “He has never once proved to be disloyal to you or the rest of the Inner Circle you claim is your family.”

“I think I agree with Rhys…” Elain spoke up, “Its just—it does seem strange. And my visions, they couldn’t see you coming back or at all when you left.”

The shadows seemed to grow darker around him, hugging him, enveloping the space around him. No one missed this, everyone watched what he would say next. “I apologize, but I fail to see how that’s my fault. Since the last time you used my blade, you hadn’t used your ability as seer. Even then, I do not report to you.”

“I wasn—”

“Don’t talk to her that way. My abilities aren’t working with you either. Something happened, or you figured out how to protect yourself from daemati, which makes everything rather suspicious, does it not? I don’t need to remind you how delicate everything is right now.”

“No, you remind me very well.” Nesta and Cassian looked between each other. Of course, Feyre knew. In fact, everyone knew because Rhysand had been trying to convince everyone that this was how they could all help their friend.

“You found something.” Rhysand stated, he had yet to move from his seat.

“I found nothing!” Azriel voice rose higher than anyone had ever heard him speak, the shadows circling him, nervous at the amount of doubt aimed towards him.

“Az, could you tell us what happened…please. Whatever happened out there…if its bad we can help.” Rhys returned to pleading, trying to dig his friend out of whatever wall he had built up so strongly. Had he pushed him that far?

Azriel laughed dryly, they were getting nowhere. He was getting nowhere near any answers that could help his own personal quest. “Nothing happened. I was not lying when I say I found nothing. Are you so desperate to find something wrong?”

“You could just show me. Whatever you did to block me out—”

“Was not of my doing. And if I had the ability to block you, I would have done that long ago. Instead of you commanding me when its convenient for you or finding things I likely never wanted you to see.”

“Is that why you left? Because I ordered for you to do something to keep the peace between the autumn court?” Rhysand stood up taking a couple steps toward Azriel who remained immobile. Enough is enough, these kinds of cracks could not begin to unravel at the center of his realm. He did his best dammit. Is doing whats best for everyone around him. Azriel’s stubbornness helped no one.

“It is ironic how you always say we have free will until it is something you deem wrong, is all I’m saying. Lord Rhysand.” There was no expression on Azriels face, no fear. Just more indifference. “I don’t know where I was nor how I got there. I found nothing.”

“Az, you don’t have to…” Nesta reached out, but Azriel shrugged her off.

“He wants to know.” He turned back to face Rhysand and Amren who was now staring him down. “I don’t know how long I flew for, I just kept flying well past the faerie realms that seem to hide from the rest of Prythian. My wings froze after several days and when I woke up…it was in a strange place I have never heard of. It has protection spells similar to our own Velaris, but much stronger. The people there nursed me, fed me and then told me to go home. I traveled back the normal way.”

“Why wouldn’t you want to tell us about them?” Mor squeaked out, sneaking in after listening into the heated discussion, “You think we would hurt them?”

“We all have things we do not wish to speak about to others, do we not? You still do not talk about some of the events of the Autumn Court, and when Eris contradicts you neither I, nor anyone else question you.” Mor immediately stomps out, muttering about everyone needing to mind their business. No one could argue his point. Every one of them kept something deeply hidden within themselves. Rhysand refuses to talk about what he had to do to appease Amarantha. Nesta still hides why she was so hurt after the battle with Hybern, Elain sees things no one else sees, Amren was an entirely different being who gave them no information. While Azriel mostly wanted to keep Callista and her people safe, it was also better for his friends to know nothing. If something were to happen and they were to encounter more daemati, more people who had the ability to torture peoples thoughts.… they would have no information. And so long as he could somehow keep his amulet hidden he would be safe. Not that anything really contained him anyhow not since he was a child, not again. Never again.

“We would never—”

“I may not be daemati, but I know when someone is lying. Unless you know how to lower centuries of protection spells stronger than Velaris had, theres no point in trying to find them. The people there…they’re stuck. They cant leave and no one whose visited has been able to find it twice.”

“You actually believe that?” Amren snorted, “They told you that so you’d leave them alone.”

Azriel became silent. He wasn’t about to argue any further. A few weeks ago, he might have agreed with Amren, but the people there. They were prisoners, their cell was lovely and they’ve made do with what they could but regardless they were stuck. Never able to leave. Stagnant. He bowed his head and turned to go back to the house of wind. At least there he could get some peace and quiet. Nesta put her hand on his shoulder to stop him for going any farther.

“Did you get your answer or not?” Nesta demanded, Rhys was silent. His eyes landing on all of his friends waiting for an answer, waiting to take a side. A house divided would not stand, and he was only making it worse. He needed to time to think. Maybe listen to his High Lady and just apologize…no. He only need to apologized if he made a mistake, and the original order was not a mistake. Was Feyre right, he thought, is he only trying to preserve his pride? Should he leave his friend alone. How else could he help? Is that what he was doing, helping? Trying to maintain control of something just to keep his family safe? Feyre stared at her mate with both empathy and fury mixing inside of her. She took a deep breath and tried to make up for hurt words.

“Azriel, would you still like to see him? Nyx should be awake from his nap any moment.” Feyre asked

“If that’s okay with you.” Feyre smiled and led Azriel away.

“Well, that went well.” Amren chuckled at the chaos

“Whats your fucking problem Amren?” Cassian spat out

“You don’t think its weird?”

“You think everything is weird. You didn’t like Nestas powers either. But you and Rhys apparently always have the last word, right?” Cassian stared at Rhys daring him to argue. Nesta just grabbed his hand and followed Feyre. When they found her and Azriel they both stared at silently at the interaction between the Ilyrian and Nyx. Silent but so soft, so loving. Azriel sat him on his lap, staring at the boy with eyes that had been cloaked in misery for weeks, the shadows finally growing dimmer around him. The little boy seemed to be playing with how the shadows swirled and danced around him, both completely taken with the other.

“I still cant believe he likes you more.” Cassian joked, finally earning a smile from his friend

“Just wait, once he can fly and run around. He is going to prefer you. He’ll need someone to match his energy.” They all smiled at the thought of it. Feyre looked at the people in this room and her eyes began watering. Not so long ago the group was voting on what to do with Nesta, then they did the same when they were deciding to tell her about Nyx’s wings, now again here they all were voting, debating, on whether or not Azriel could be trusted. Azriel of course, noticed. “You all can agree with him if its easier. I don’t hate him, but right now…I need space and this is easier. You don’t have to fight him for my sake.”

This of course, only solidified who they were standing behind. “Please, I like arguing with Rhys. I’ve been doing it since I was dumped in the cauldron.”

“I’ve learned not to side against Nesta.” Cassian joked, Nesta pushed him and he brought her into him wrapping his arms around her from behind, “Besides, I get it. You cant control who you fall in love with. And the whole Autumn court thing…”

“Well, if it makes everyone feel better, since I’m sure they can hear. I’m leaving Elain alone. I thought I could have been her…but I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. I am trying to figure everything out. Whats real and whats a result of me being alone? Thankful someone notices me, maybe? I was made aware of where I stood with Rhys that night. And I cant—I cant get over that right now.”

“You don’t have to.” Nesta says, “And you don’t have to figure out how you feel right now either. If that’s why you needed space then take the space. Let us know if we can help.”

“If Lucian had a choice between Elain and the woman his father killed, he would have chosen the latter. Being mates…it doesn’t always mean the two are a good fit. I mean look at Rhy’s parents.” Feyre says lowly, thinking about the sadness in Lucian’s eyes, the way he remembers how happy he had been. The pain that never left him, the guilt he would always carry over the weight at being the reason the love of his life had died. Now… well she never saw him, he wanted nothing to do with any of them. Probably trying to untangle his own feelings from what the mate bond placed on him. “Did you care for her then? Before you left?”

“Yes. The way she noticed my headaches, even if Nuala and Cerridwen told her.” He took a deep sigh, “I’ve been pining for Mor for centuries, she’s never once thought of that. No one had. She had shown me time and time again, she didn’t reciprocate… and that medicine….That medicine is what shifted things for me. Someone noticed me, but I don’t know if that’s enough.”

“Well. I’m not in love with you.” Nesta shrugged as everyone looked at her, bewildered, “I’m serious. The last solstice we were all together you got me that book light. And it was so simple but that gift meant a lot to me. You didn’t have to do that. But you’re kind. Elain is kind. If no one has shown you kindness like that its bound to bring up some emotions. And Elain is well… anyway shes kind. That’s who she is. I don’t know why she’d side with that guy but…just…just try and figure out what would make you happy.”

“They’re right. Being mates doesn’t mean much, I don’t think Nesta and I particularly liked each other when they forced her into the House of Wind. She became happy long before she came around to me at all, and even then I almost messed everything up.” Cassian thought back to when everyone was meant to keep Nesta’s real power quiet, he wouldn’t be able to do it. Not now. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Azriel smiled at his friend, happy after so many years of suffering plagued him. He could find something similar in Elain, if he wanted. Now that Feyre was on his side. So where did that leave Callista. Why was she still on his mind? Because they had unfinished business. “Nesta, you worked at the library for a bit right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Do you think theres any way I could find a way to undo a spell like the one we had here?”

“I don’t know… Gwyn would know better than me. I can ask her.”

Azriel can only nod. His energy depleted from the days events. The second Nyx is out of his arms he feels like retreating into himself. Nesta is quick to excuse herself and Cassian as she wants to start looing into the research, bored for something new to read. Feyre nodded ready for sometime alone with her mate, ready to figure out how to compromise without forcing everyone to choose sides again. Not again.

➽───────────────❥

“I forgot how big this place was.” Nesta grumbled, “We haven’t even touched a quarter of all the books having to do with Velaris.”

“Poor Azriel. This must be driving him crazy.” Gwyn said as she quickly scanned through another book before putting it back on the shelf. Nesta and Gwyn were the only ones still allowed to search after Azriel lost it after a couple months of finding nothing. He slammed one book down and Clotho made it clear he wasn’t welcome until the book was found.

“I think it bothers him more that Cassian is the one stuck babysitting.” Nesta joked.

“A lot of sparring I assume.” Nesta exaggeratedly nodded and the two had to stop themselves from laughing too loudly.  “Has he told you why he wants to figure out the spell so badly yet?”

“Ugh, no. I mean I know the whole being stuck really you know…resonates with him. But theres something else.”

“You mean someone else?”

“You think so too?”

“So does Emerie. Is she visiting soon?”

“Yes, I asked Azriel to ask her to come today. Her family is still hounding her for the shop. I get worried about her.”

“Me too.” They both work for a couple more hours before they head back to the house of wind to deliver the unfortunate news once again to their friend.”

Nesta’s heart breaks at the small glimmer of hope she sees in Azriel’s eyes dying every time she steps back into the room. She shakes her head and he nods in understanding. Then as always, excuses himself. Cassian and Emerie run to meet them. The reunion momentarily takes precedence.

“I’m helping tomorrow.” Emerie states.

“The three of you at once? Nothing will get done then.” Cassian joked.

Nesta pushes him, “Anything to report?”

“He is going out for a couple hours and then we both go to see Rhys to tell him the same thing, nothing. Its too quiet. Even Eris reached out to see if everything was alright.”

“I guess when you live forever, you have time to wait.” Nesta frowns

“Until then, lets try and have a good time. We can all play some games, get Azriel to participate. Maybe cheer him up.” Gwyn offered

“Sounds like a great idea.” Cassian agreed, “He listens to you, Nesta.”

“Well come with me. You two make yourselves comfortable, okay.” She squeezes her friend’s hands and goes off to find the shadowsinger. She knocks softly at first, “Hey, Az?”

When there was no answer Cassian knocked more urgently, but it pushed open easily. They couldn’t breathe any sigh of relief as they found Azriel standing in front of some kind door made of pure night. He didn’t move. Seemingly entranced by the shadows that he had always followed. A gentle hand startled him, causing him to bring his knife out immediately.

“Its just us.” Nesta whispered

“Put the knife down. Now.” Cassian words were filled with venom. Brother or not, no one was going to do anything to Nesta as long as he was around. But Azriel was quick to sheath his weapon.

“So-sorry. Its just…Sorry.” The shadows dispersed.

“Are you going to go back?” Nesta asked

“I don’t know if I can. I didn’t summon them. It’s like a door that shows up every day. Like something is calling me back but I can’t step through it.” Truth was he was desperate and he couldn’t wait any longer.

“Have you tried?” Cassian asked

“I don’t want to be wrong. Or end up somewhere I shouldn’t be.”

“Only one way to find out right?” Nesta asked, “If you end up anywhere else, you should be able to come back right away, right?”

“I guess.” Azriel said, still dazed

“Go find her. Maybe she can figure out how the spell around Velaris works.”

“What?” Azriel asked, not completely shocked but still surprised Nesta had figured anything out.

“You said the spell is strong there, but you were able to travel out your usual way. If all they do is practice magic maybe she can figure it out for herself. I’ll deal with Rhys.” Nesta took a step back, and Cassian nodded moving as close as he possibly could to his mate.

“Go. We’ll come up with something.”

Azriel blinked. Slowly facing the shadows reaching towards him. Pleading with him to step through. He took a deep breath before taking a few steps forward, disappearing from his friends sight. They both looked at each other, hoping he would come back much sooner than the last time he disappeared.

When Azriel opened his eyes, he was back in the room he had woken up in last. It was dark, as if no one had been here since he left, if this place was as difficult to find as Callista had said he supposed it made sense. But the air was cold, immediately he felt something was wrong. The pendant seemed to thrum against his chest. He threw the door open, expecting to find everyone gone or worse, hurt. Perhaps his presence had attracted an unwanted visitor. He suddenly couldn’t breathe and he scrambled to escape the small room that seemed to be shrinking the longer he stayed in there. His could see every breath as he stepped through the frosty air. The tree seemed to light up the otherwise pitch black area. Azriel suddenly remembers Callista telling him about the evenings there and beautiful it was. She was right.

Small orbs of light spread throughout the trees seemed illuminated the intricate design of snow encasing every branch and leaf. The wind seemed to whistle through the ice like crystals, the sound of bells tinkling through the air. The ice swirled around the homes of the faeries living inside, several of them lit up themselves as the people inside moved about, completely unaware of his presence. He looked down to the forest floor, children were having a snowball fight. His heart hurts at the thought of missing his own tradition several months ago. Still wondering if he had made the right choice then, wondering if this was the right choice now? He surveyed the people, the older fae were waving their hands, bending snow into shapes around them.

Azriels eyes stopped when he saw the wings. The pinks that melted into the wing. The softest sunburst gleam that made her stand out. She belonged in the dawn court, he thought. He could hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears. He pressed his eyes shut, forced himself to breathe before he would go down to talk to her. When he opened them again she was gone, he heard the fluttering behind him before his shadows had a chance to warn him of anything.

“Azriel?”

“I did say I would find a way back here.”  Callista tackled him into a hug, almost unseating his footing. He found himself burying his head into her hair, breathing in her perfume that brought him a surprising amount of comfort. His arms gently went around her waist, his hands resting on her shoulder blades, so delicate, so careful to not ruin her wings.

“I cant believe you actually did it.” She laughed as she pulled away.

Azriel smiled, trying to hide his disappointment at the distance Callista creates as she pulls away. “How long has it been here?”

“Here? Its been years?”

“Years?” Azriel assumed time would continue to drag here. He wondered how long a day would last here, “I’m sorry. Its only been a few months where I’m from. I was trying to find a way to figure out the spell surrounding this place.”

Callista’s face grew distant. When she could finally look away she cursed whatever was holding them here, “I hate this place.”

“I cant stay. I don’t understand it, but I had been missing several months when I went back the first time. Will you come with me? Maybe we could figure out a way to get everyone else out of here.”

“We do not know if I will be able to leave.”

“That’s true. But we wont know until we try.”

“I suppose not.” Azriel couldn’t help the smirk that grew on his face, “Come with me. I need to alert some of others.”

“Syra?”

Callista’s face darkens, “No. Not her. Come on.”

Azriel doesn’t hesitate to grab her hand this time and flies down to where most of the children had gathered. She lets go only to whisper to one of the kids who quickly flew off somewhere Azriel couldn’t find. The second he’s out of sight Callista comes back up next to him and continues to hold his hand.

“Scout is our fastest flier. He likes delivering important messages. Should I get you some warmer clothes?”

Azriel quickly shakes his head, unaware how stiff his fingers are becoming or how the tip of his nose began reddening ever so slightly. In fact, he felt rather warm, his cheeks deepening due to the mix of sharp wind and his own blush at how openly affectionate Callista was. Perhaps it was in her nature. He noticed several other faeries not shying from the touch of the fae around them. Scout was quick to come, followed by several more faeries, all much more weathered than Callista and himself. She squeezed her his hand before letting go to address them.

“What is this we hear of you leaving?” One of the oldest there began

“No one has ever made it back, Tommin. This is a good sign. We could figure out how to get out of here.”

“We are perfectly fine here.”

“It could be better. Its not to say as if we can never come back.” Azriel studied every elder intensely yet only one seemed nervous. The others all strangely stoic, unworried about one of their own. They didn’t believe she could leave. Tommin continued to angrily speak at Callista. For her own part, she seemed indifferent to his ranting. As if shes used to all the irades around here.

“And if you cant leave? What if you get stuck in some kind of limbo in your attempt to leave?”

“That’s better than being a prisoner.”

“If we cant figure out how to lower the shield I can continue teleporting in. I’ll take as many as I can.” Azriel chimed in hoping to help.

“Not all of us feel the need to leave.”

“Great. Then you wont mind letting the ones go that do want to leave, right?”

“Callista. You have to stay, he can try with anyone else first.” Tommin turned to pleading, Azriel could hear his heartrate increase. He was hiding something. The elders eyes the stranger as the shadows seemed to grow around him, circling him in preparation for escape. Callista couldn’t understand the hesitation with her being the one not being allowed to go. No one had ever stopped her from trying before, why now? With so close of a guarantee. With so close of an answer.

“I’m leaving.” Callista walked back until she reached Azriel, she looked at him and he nodded. Wrapping his arm around his waist.

“Hold on tight,--”

“Callista. Stop!”

“Don’t.”

Several voices began to protest, but Azriel ignored them, “Don’t look.”

His voice was suddenly gravely serious. It was not a request, but a demand. AN order not to look at whatever was about to happen. Callista nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck and hiding her face in the crook of his head. Azriel had his arm around her waist, holding her tightly against him. The darkness enveloped them, the screams growing fainter by the second. She remained silent, not daring to hope for anything short of a miracle.  She could only grip tighter, comforted by Azriel’s reassuring squeeze. The shadow traveling literally took her breath away, it was to induce panic inside of her, her stomach seemed to be sinking deeper into her body. Suddenly, everything stopped. Her hair finally falling back down around her. She didn’t move, afraid that when she opened her eyes she would be right back where she started.

Azriel pressed his lips against her temple, trying his best not to overwhelm her, “We’re here.”

Callista releases the air she was holding back in her lungs. Prying herself off of him in disbelief. She immediately wants to rush to the window but Azriel is quick to grab her arm. “What are you doing?”

“Not yet. You remember the friend I told you about? He’s almost here. You have to wait just a little longer. It will be very overwhelming. Believe me, please.”

She knew he was right. It didn’t make things easier but he was right, “How do you know?”

“I have some help.” He smirked, “Stay here, I will have some friends get you some more comfortable clothes. They will lead you down to meet everyone. I would like to show you around, if that’s okay…”

“I’ll wait to sneak a peek.” She pauses as he begins to exit the room she was left in. Callista begins feeling incomplete. Whatever help she had offered him couldn’t compare to what he had done for her. Nothing would ever compare to this. Freedom. She was finally free. The very air she breathed felt different, lighter. “Azriel!”

He freezes, worried she wants to return already. “Is everything okay.”

“Yes…its just…thank you.”

He offered her a smile and slightly bowed his head. Swallowing the lump in his throat as he readied himself to face his friends. His high lord. This was not going to be easy. Everyone was there. Even Gwyn and Emerie had come back.

They all stared as he entered the room. Before Rhysand could even begin questioning Azriel turned to Cassian. “How long?”

“Only a few days this time.”

He breathed a sigh of relief thanking whatever entity was out there that nothing happened while he was gone. It had only been a few days, no wonder the Valkyries were still here. No war, no deaths. Otherwise, Rhysand would have made his presence known immediately. He was still unhappy, but his curiosity got the better of him. That and he was glad that Azriel decided to come back at all.

“We hear you brought a visitor.” Rhysand starts.

“Yes, she will be joining us soon. She’s getting some new clothes. Nuala and Cerridwen are helping her right now.”

“Good, we want to make our guests feel welcome. Right, Rhys?”

He gritted his teeth but agreed, “Of course, Feyre darling. Of course, we still have some questions for her.”

“Are you planning on interrogating her? She has never known anything outside her home. Do you have to do it now?”

“No, he doesn’t.” Nesta said, “You went to get her to learn more about the spell around Velaris. Right? Shes done nothing to warrant an interrogation. We are simply going to meet her. Shes a guest.”

“Why don’t we all eat dinner? We can just meet eachother.” Feyre agreed

“We should ask why the hell she kept him there for months. She could have enchanted you? Are you seriously that dense?” Amren scoffed, “Why cant Rhys use his abilities on her?”

That was news to Azriel. “I told you her whole kingdom was shielded even more heavily than Velaris. It probably extends to the people there.”

“Then you should take us all there.” Amren glared, trying to get a rise out of Azriel. “To be immune from those powers would be very beneficial to our cause, no?”

“And if when we come back the war has come and gone? I was gone for days and when I returned it had been months. I wasn’t even there a full day this last time, and its been days. Callista said it had been years since I had left. Its too big a risk.”

“And the only way there is through Azriel.” Rhys states, “Unfortunately, he is right. But there’s a chance this Callista knows more than she lets on. We will try and figure out how much she knows.”

“Well, where is she?” Mor asks, very clearly annoyed. “Lets get this over with.”

“Get what over with?” Callista walks into the living area, the presence of her magnificent wings drawing gasps from most everyone, Nesta and Mors eyes widened, Cassians mouths dropped, the only one who maintained an uninterested poker face was Rhysand and Amren. Callista for her part was shocked she was the only one among company with wings at all. She stepped beside Azriel, he noticed she wore a soft, pale pastel green dress. It was adorned with flowers: pinks, yellows, and purples to compliment her wings. It flowed out at the skirt, with the sleeves swooping around her shoulders. Her long hair almost flowed to her waist. No one had so effortlessly been born a High Fae. Azriel couldn’t stop staring. She looked as ethereal as the first day he had seen her.

“What?’

“You look lovely.” Azriel said softly, a small smile growing on Callistas face.

“Thank you.” She turned to face everyone else, she slightly curtsied in their direction. “And thank you for having me. I apologize for dropping in so unexpectedly.”

“Lets eat, theres a lot to discuss.” The high lord stands up, “I apologize if this seems like a lot on your first day here.”

“You must be Rhysand. I don’t mind answering any questions. I have nothing to hide.”

Another scoff from Amren, still sitting on the floor, “Yeah. Right.”

This shakes Nesta out of her daze, “I’m Nesta. Will you please join us?”

Everyone stares at the interaction between Callista and Rhysand. Neither of them backing down from each other. Rhysand had no power to keep the newcomer in place. She was a threat. And almost every person there could agree that they would need to watch her. Nesta’s request brings out a dazzling smile from their unexpected guest.

“I would love to. Can I help in any way?”

“The food will be ready by the time we walk into the dining room.” Nesta assured her, “Can I sit by you?”

“Yes, I think I would feel safer that way actually.” This response gets a good laugh out of Gwyn, Emerie, and Cassian. Azriel moves quietly, suddenly feeling like no longer speaking. Exhausted. He made sure to tell Nuala and Cerridwen to ensure all of the curtains were not drawn. Tired as he was, he was anxious to show his world to Callista. He wondered when he would be able to talk to her alone.

“She seems nice, Az.” Feyre whispers as squeezes her arm before joining hands with her own mate. Azriel can hear the hushed ‘be nice,’ she hisses at Rhysand. Azriel stops when Cassian holds him back behind everyone.

“Don’t let them treat her like Nesta. I failed her. A lot. I’m still trying to make it up to her. But…just—don’t do what I did.”

“I won’t.” He realizes he doesn’t protest at the implications that Callista was his Nesta. This was not the time. Azriel decides to sit next to Rhys after seeing the other seat next to Callista. Amren was across from her, studying or glaring the entire time. Almost unblinking.

“So, Callista. How did you get Azriel to stay away for so long? Did he hurt himself that badly?” Mor asked in her most saccharine voice

“His wings were not in the best shape. He was asleep for several days. We didn’t want to rush the healing process or have it healed in correctly. He left the same day he woke up. But time does move differently where I come from.”

“And how would you know that? If you supposedly cant leave?”

Callista’s eyes seem to water for a split second, “I told Azriel once that we had a man stay with us for years. More than a decade. My friend he…he fell in love with him. One day the man became frantic, worried about his wife. A wife we had no idea existed. He left that day, but my friend demanded he write him. That he respond to a letter that would find him when he was home. According to one of the letters, when he returned only a week has passed. No one had even begun to worry about him. He had aged and his wife doubted he was the same person who had left for whatever battle he had gone to fight. The second time my friend sent a letter, it took him too long. He sent a long confession against our conservations. Three days passed…When we got a reply it was from a man claiming to be the son of the man who had found us. He had died three years prior. We never sent any more letters. I cannot claim to understand how time seems to move so curiously.”

“Did he fall through the sky too?” Amren  pouted her lips as she asked, Azriel clenched his fists at her unnecessary cruelness.

“No. He was not fae. He was a human. Washed up in one of the riverbanks. We never know how they get there, nor how they leave. Except Azriel no one has come back to let us know personally. Up until he came back, I half guessed that letter was just a way of letting  my friend down easily.” Not once did she seem even slightly bothered by the questions, impressing almost everyone and infuriating the main instigator.

“So, what do you know?” Amren pressed

“Enough.” Azriel voice cut through like a knife, “This is not an interrogation. Let her eat.”

“Its alright. I suppose it all does seem strange. But its all I know. All I’ve known. But if you plan on questioning me, I deserve the same courtesy, correct? Or are the people in this circle you speak of the only ones allowed to speak?”

“Wh—” Amren is about to begin yelling but Callista refuses to be talked over

“I’ll even ask the same questions. Where are you from? How did you get there? What do you know about that world? Please, I’m very curious.” She is only staring at Amren as if she knows exactly what Amren is. She is about to respond but Callista almost immediately turns to Mor, “And you, you claim I enchanted him? Could I not ask you the same? Why have you kept him so close after seeing the pain he was in, keeping him close enough to get his hopes up?”

Mor lips tightens as she suddenly stabs some food on her plate with her fork. Callista shrugs and begins eating. Cassian can only stare in shock, his hand covers his mouth. Hoping it stops him from saying some joke that would get either lady from the inner circle angry at him. Nesta and the Valkyries share a look, Elain is silent, never looking up from her plate.

“Ignore them Callista, I do.” Nesta said as she continued eating. “Emerie, tell me. Hows the business going at the Ilyrian camp? Is your uncle still bothering you? Should we just take care of him?”

“Oh Gods, no. Not yet. They cant do much anymore. What with Cassian constantly checking on the camp and making sure everyone is at least being respectful.” The conversation continues for a while to give the poor girl a chance to recover before more questions inevitably came her way. Soon after everyone introduced themselves and how they met eachother. Callista stored everything to memory, determined to show them that at the very least, she was polite enough to genuinely care. And she asked as many questions as she could. Their stories were interesting and it was nice to hear literally anything new after a lifetime of hearing the same stories over and over. Callista worried she would have to go back. She could never go back, not now that she knew there was so many things that were possible. She hoped Azriel would finally allow her to take a look at the world so far away from her own.

Azriel remained silent. Watching to ensure everything goes smoothly. Rhysand only asks one question, “Callista, Azriel said the magic surrounding your home was stronger than anything he had seen. What kind of magic protects it?”

“If I knew I would have figured out a way to remove it. My magic mainly lies in healing, and I can hide things quite well. Azriel called it a glamour? But I assume you’re asking because you also want to try and figure out why you cannot do the mind reading thing I’ve heard about. I don’t know why something would protect me from that.”

Azriels eyes shoot up at her. The words were deliberate. She was not lying but omitting very key details. She takes another bite of food and smirks at him flipping her hair to one side, a gleam of gold flashes ever so slightly. She had come prepared. Somehow, Syra had given her some kind jewelry to prevent Rhysand from spying on her private thoughts. The silence around them is almost deafening, only the sounds of silverware scraping echoes through the room.

Azriel lightly cleared his throat, “Well. This was great but if you’ll excuse me. I did promise Callista I would show her around for a bit.”

She couldn’t stand up any quicker, “Can we?”

“Az, you should start at the training pad.” Nesta nods in the general direction before standing up herself, “We will have to talk more tomorrow, Callista.”

“I’d like that.” Callista smiled warmly and wrapped her arm around Azriels as they exited the room.

Nesta returned the smile and grabbed Emerie and Gwyn, simply leaving the dinner and the guests that imposed themselves on it. Cassian only cleared his throat, “Well…that’s that.”

“She was nice.” Feyre tried to continue some sort of discussion

“Sure.” Mor scoffed and crossed her arms.

“Because you were so warm and inviting?” Cassian joked

“Wasn’t I?” She rolled her yes but smiled at her friend, she knew she didn’t make it easy on either of the Ilyrians special ‘friends.’ She wondered how long they were all going to ignore how close the two had become acquainted. Or if they were going to bring it up. She still didn’t like the outsider, but she could respect Callista standing up for herself.

“I don’t trust her.” Amren crosses her arms.

“You don’t trust anyone.” Feyre said, “No one can be trusted with information as far as your concerned. I think you’ve been wrong before. With me and Nesta.”

“I wasn’t wrong.”

“We’ll keep an eye on her.” Rhysand stood, “We will give them a couple days before we ask her to try and figure out the spell.”

“What if she wants to stay with him?” Cassian asked a little too seriously

“We will discuss that when it comes to that.”

“He’ll never forgive you if you don’t let her stay. He will leave.” Cassian stared down his brother, and got a nod in response before he headed out with Feyre and Elain. The latter still silent, still analyzing tonights events.

➽───────────────❥

Azriel led Callista to the stairway up to the training pad, stopping right before they headed outside. “You have one?”

“Yes. Syra made one for me right after you left. I haven’t taken it off since.” She pulled hers out, the metal string holding the small circular gem that almost looked too thin. As if touching it would cause it to crumble. The gem also looked completely different. It was a blinding white, that seemed to glow as she held it up. As if a star had been captured in the small circle. Azriel pulled his own out to compare, still pitch black. He could swear something was moving inside of his but quickly put it back. Not wanting to over think anything else right now.

“Ready?”

“Yes.” She takes a deep breath as Azriel opens the door. Her mouth drops at the endless sea of stars. How he ever let her go on about her home being beautiful at night when this is what he fell asleep to should be criminal. She must have looked so foolish. She didn’t care. She would owe him the rest of her existence. Azriel could only stare at her. The stars shining in her eyes, he could only hope she would allow him to be the one who would show her the rest of Prythian.

“Our home is most beautiful at night too.”

“Theres no comparison. I cant believe you kept a straight face.” She laughed and reached for his hand, “They look so close.”

He doesn’t hesitate this time, only takes her hand as she walks closer to the edge of the pad. “Have you ever flown with this much space?”

“No.” She says, completely shocked by her own lack of realization, “But I’m about to.” She squeezes his hand before running to the end and jumping off the mountain. Azriel has a moment of panic before she flies back up, laughing at how far free her wings could spread. Not having to worry about the thicket of trees possibly stopping or snagging her wings. She had become quite adept in maneuvering around all of the obstacles in her home. The lack of obstacles made her giddy. Absolutely filled with a joy she could have never imagined.

Cassian, Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie eventually joined Azriel out on the training pad. Nesta stepped beside him, “Why aren’t you flying with her?” She hissed under her breath.

I don’t want to bother her, Azriel thought before Callista landed before them. “Fly with me! Is there anyway we can take Nesta and Gwyn?”

“Actually I cant.” Emerie said taking a step back.

“I’m sorry, I didn—”

“No! I would love to but… I haven’t been able to for a while.” She turned to show her clipped Ilyrian wings. Callista’s face grew serious

“Who did that to you.”

“My father. Hes gone now, but…”

“But nothing. Do you miss it? The flying?” Nesta was ready to yell at her for pushing her friend but Cassian put his hand on her, gesturing for her to wait.

“Everyday.” Emerie replied

Callista turned to Azriel, “Be ready to catch me, okay?”

She walked up to Emery, placing one of her hands on her wing, and one on her arm. “Wh-what are you doing?”

Callista didn’t answer. She began murmuring under her breath, her own wings glowing a soft pink. Emerie’s own wings seemed to glow. Her head whipped back and forth as she tried to make sense of what was happening. She suddenly let out a gasp, a slight moan leaving her lips as her eyes grew wide.

“Emerie!” Gwyn and Nesta cried

Callista released and took a shaky breath before stepping backwards. Everyone rushed towards Emerie before she spread out her wings. Nesta took a step back as her friend fully stretched her wings, not a hint of pain in sight. Gwyn immediately had her arms wrapped around her friends neck, still in disbelief that her wings felt whole again. Azriel could only stare in shock as everyone inspected Emeries wings. Cassian began asking him how it was even possible. He couldn’t answer. This kind of healing was unheard of. It was impossible to heal clipped wings. It should be impossible. He opened his mouth to ask her how she learned this kind of magic, how long would it last, did she ever have to do this before?

The shadows half whispered half screamed at him to pay attention, his head whipped to see Callista losing consciousness and falling to the ground.

Taglist: @bubybubsters @mich0731 @azziessidehoe @cleverzonkwombatsludge

[critter-rarepair-reccs]

Hello all! Hope your Wednesday has been well so far. This week we have fourteen fics featuring various different polyamorous ships! As always, you can find them below the cut and if you check any of them out, I encourage you to leave kudoes and comments to spread the rarepair love 💕

gilded mischief by annie_blackbird (20,437 words, Explicit) Pairing: Yussa Errenis/Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast (Shadowidoyussa) Warnings: Consensual Somnophilia, Safeword Use, Mentions of Slavery

Caleb and Essek spend a night with Yussa, with Caleb under the effect of a sleeping potion. After some discussion, the night progresses with Essek as Yussa's very good boy.

Reccer Says: *grabs you by the shoulder* you need to read this fic. Even if you're not already aboard the Shadowidoyussa ship. It will convert you. It is so soft. It is so hot. Like, the perfect balance of tooth-rotting fluff and scorchingly hot smut. Yussa is Exandria's softest dom and I adore him. Essek is a sweetheart doing his very best and I'm holding him in my hands. Caleb is asleep but the ways he's still a present influence on the story through Essek's POV is absolutely wonderful. Please read it, you will not regret it.

can't you see yourself by my side? by ryseling (7,519 words, Explicit) Pairing: Fjord/Jester Lavorre/Caleb Widogast (Widofjorester) Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Under-negotiated Relationship

Fjord and Jester are together, and Caleb - hopelessly in love with them as he is - agrees to a threesome. Porn with feelings, Caleb POV.

Reccer Says: Very well written in terms of style. Everyone also feels very in character.

Hearts Full of Light by kaeda (5,032 words, Mature) Pairing: Astrid Beck/Fjord/Eadwulf Grieve/Jester Lavorre Warnings: None

The nein & friends are restoring the blooming grove after Trent's attack in 141. Mostly lighthearted as Jester meddles & matchmakes. POV alternating between Fjord and Jester.

Reccer Says: Jester/Astrid/Fjord/Eadwulf is such an underrated rarepair.

all glittering things by quinn_of_aebradore (32,418 words, Teen) Pairing: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast (Shadowidomauk) Warnings: Minor Canon Character Death

"Essek Thelyss, prodigious dunamancer and crown Prince of Rosohna. Caleb Widogast, illustrious court mage for the Lord Eadwulf Grieve of Blumenthal. Mollymauk Tealeaf, Opal of Nicodranas, fourth child of the Tealeaf Estate. What happens when affection escapes the bounds of propriety and courting? What comes once a kiss has been bestowed? A romance draped with light and honey, of course."

Reccer Says: I just love this entire AU so much so I'm cheating and reccing the whole thing lol... it's so well done and thoughtfully constructed, and they're sooo lovey dovey and pining and flirty ugghggh - bonus: the lucien vs essek part makes me especially feral 🤣💜

Kisses by the Road by Clare_Hope (6,351 words, Teen) Pairing: Dorian Storm/Fearne Calloway/Dariax Zaveon/Opal Warnings: Alcohol

Fearne wins the drinking contest in Byroden and requests kisses as her prize. Polyamory and shenanigans ensue.

Reccer Says: I enjoyed it!

I dream of you amid the flowers by glittergarbage (66,967 words, Explicit) Pairing: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast (Shadowidomauk) Warnings: Dirty Talk, Smut, AFAB NB Molly, Threesome

"In which Mollymauk comes back to his body, minus a few memories, at the Blooming Grove. Essek is intrigued. Caleb is glad."

Reccer Says: I LOVE THIS FIC SM.... it's such a perfect post-canon depiction of the slow, realistic, exciting, curious unfolding of their relationship, and I love their characterizations and dynamics 🥰🥰🥰 it's a SWM classic to me

First Light by the_deep_magic (5,673 words, Explicit) Pairing: Ashton Greymoore/Orym/Dorian Storm (Dashrym) Warnings: None

Ashton wakes up while Orym is doing his morning exercises, which they find Very Sexy. Dorian, already awake, agrees and the two of them pretend to be asleep until Orym is done and they can have sex about it.

Reccer Says: Domestic Dashrym, hot smut, and a very well-written Ashton POV 💕

locked in here with us by wanderingbasilisk (3,002 words, General) Pairing: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast (Shadowidomauk) Warnings: None

"a dragon, a damsel in a tower, a knight in shining armor you can guess how this goes ;)"

Reccer Says: Love a fairytale AU! It's just so sweet and fun and adorable and there's a little sprinkle of angst in there which is sooo good 💜🧡💜 delightful and heartwarming

in the light of long-dead things by Anonymous (3,426 words, Teen) Pairing: Astrid Beck/Eadwulf Grieve/Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast (Blumenshadow) Warnings: PTSD, Panic Attacks

While spending the night in Caleb’s tower, Astrid gets thrown into the past.

Reccer Says: God, the way this one has Stuck with me since I first read it. The visual of Astrid squeezing herself under the nook by the stairs is burned into my brain. Her panic, Wulf coaxing her back to herself and the present, her reactions to Caleb and Essek, it’s all so heartaching and wonderful, I love it so much.

to be in someone else's coat by jaskofalltrades (1,369 words, General) Pairing: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast (Shadowidomauk) Warnings: None

Widomauk/Pre-Shadowidomauk where Molly and Caleb were the ones to walk Essek home from dinner at the Xhorhaus

Reccer Says: Listen SWM canon molly lives AU is a wonderful and rare creature and this is one such example that gave me the warm cozies... also I LOVE WHEN THEY FLIRT AAAA 💜💕

Where I am going you can't save me by thesweetpianowritingdownmylife (20,461 words, Teen) Pairing: Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett/Yasha Nydoorin (Beauyashter) Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Vomiting, Blood

Yasha starts coughing up petals, white and blue. There is no doubt to whom they belong. Aka Beaujasha Hanahaki AU. Set after episode 89.

Reccer Says: I enjoyed it!

keep following the heartlines on your hands by floralprintshark (8,014 words, Teen) Pairing: Fjord/Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast (Widofjolly) Warnings: None

Five times Molly tries to set up Fjord and Caleb with each other and one time Molly gets set up with them.

Reccer Says: I enjoyed it!

We also have two reccs for: the stranger who was your self by Demenior (60,045 words, Mature) Pairing: Fjord/Eadwulf Grieve/Jester Lavorre Warnings: Power Dynamics

Eadwulf joins Fjord & Jester's crew as they sail the Lucidian. POV alternating between the three leads. Fjord and Jester are about to embark on a high-seas adventure...and Eadwulf shows up and insists on joining their crew. They don't know what he's plotting (or what he's running away from,) but that won't stop them from flirting with him until they find out.

Reccer 1 Says: I enjoyed it! Reccer 2 Says: Adorable Fjorester flirting. All the sexual tension of that one sword fight between Fjord and Eadwulf. Unstoppable force (Jester Lavorre) meets immovable object (the world's most miserable, wretched wet dog of a scourger.)

And we have three reccs for: amongst the things left unforgiven by nonwal (63,958 words, Mature) Pairings: Astrid Beck/Eadwulf Grieve/Essek Thelyss, Astrid Beck/Eadwulf Grieve/Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast (Blumenshadow) Warnings: Panic Attacks, Discussions of Suicidality/Euthenasia, Temporary Character Death, Suicidal Ideation

Astrid and Eodwulf start visiting Essek in Rosonah to keep an eye on him, then Essek starts visiting them at Caleb's tower in Rexxentrum to keep an eye on them. They dance around eachother in conversation out of mutual distrust (and flirting) long enough to save Essek from himself and fall in love about it. Astrid and Eadwulf take it upon themselves to save Essek from himself. Two scourgers show up at Essek's home to interrogate him about the Mighty Nein. Then he discovers that both of them are also uselessly pining over Caleb. Then, he gets closer than advisable.

Reccer 1 Says: the character dynamics and banter are absolutely top notch. the author really nails the character voices. Reccer 2 Says: I enjoyed it! Reccer 3 Says: An alternate ending to C2 with a great balance of intrigue, angst, slow-burn romance, and fluff (if you can count three wizards lying to each other for fun as fluff.)

Thank you for joining us this week’s recc list! All the love to everyone who submitted a fic 💕 All enclosed recommendations were submitted by the community via our submissions form, which you can find here. All fic information is as it was provided by the reccer, so it may not be accurate to the author’s intent or the precise contents of the fic itself. Please assume good intent from all parties 💕

Submissions for next week’s list are already open! We’ll be featuring Enemies to Lovers. If you have any you’d like to highlight, you can send them in here. The week after that, the theme is Miscommunication and the weeks after that we’re taking recommendations for Works in Progress and Angst! Submissions for all of these themes are currently open.

If you want more rarepair fic, check out @cr-summer-wildflowers and their event collections on ao3! If you want some friendship after all this romance, take a look at @critter-genfic-events and their recc lists! And if you’re interested in everyone’s favorite wizards, you can’t go wrong with the lists at @aeor-is-for-reccing !

Thanks all and have a lovely day/night/timezone! 💕

[aplaceinthedark]

LOST in the LABYRINTH

A Bad Omens Paranormal AU Story

Down in the Shenandoah Valley, they barely speak of the Watcher of the Woods.

He Has Many Names, for his true name can't be spoken by mortal tongue. They range from benevolent epithets, such as The Guardian of the Grove, to sinister titles such as The Black Stag. But the most common spoken by the old and the new, however, is simply the Watcher.

They say that the Watcher holds court in the heart of the Shenandoah, where the trees turn the woods cold with Friday and black with rot. The woods here are drier than the bones scattered amongst the pine needles 'cause the rain can't ever penetrate through the leaves.

The legends say that the Watcher is as old as the Appalachian Range itself. Most people say that the Watcher is an old urban legend created by our mamaws and papaws to scare our children into staying out of the woods.

And few say that the Watcher was just a lonely boy who wandered into the woods and never looked back.

LOST in the LABYRINTH

Nick Ruffilo x Taylor (original non-binary character) (complete)

TALES from the GROVE OF SECRETS

A series of tales from the Circle of Omens and Thorns (complete)

LOOKING for the MEANING

Sequel to LOST in the LABYRINTH (in progress)

Miscellaneous

MADE BREATH and SKIN (an alternate version of WILDER than the WIND) Noah Sebastian x Taylor (original non-binary character)

[kitthenameless]

Weird NPC Run Update:

One of my tavs got madness because he went too long without blood (vampire class mod, headcanon is that he's not a spawn but still needs blood because he's a warlock with a vampire patron). The others had to down him to get him back under control, and then he was able to feed on a willing Abdirak, and, well... I feel like I just watched him fall in love lol.

Meanwhile, defending the grove went well, and my other poor tav is pining hard over Zevlor. They shared a single kiss and said their goodbyes for now. The next morning, half-drow tav gave him a hug and promised to help him find Zevlor in Baldur's Gate.

It's quiet without any voiced companions around, but it's fun getting into the roleplay with little moments like this!

(Also, it's too bad I didn't start doing updates like this until my 7th playthrough. They're not my most popular posts, but I enjoy making them and having a little record of my adventures.)

Mods: Weeviljester's Ethereal Heads. Pretty Boys Head Presets by cedastarions. Ghouls Customization Compendium - Custom Heads Horns and Beards. Ghouls Custom Piercings. Viking Hairstyle + Lilith's Armors by badwitch69.

[extra-v1rgin]

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆

Tanjiro knows everyone in his village. Despite his friendly nature and the admiration others have for him, the boy doesn’t have many true friends. His younger siblings are at the age where anyone within a year or two becomes a playmate. In the summer where trips to the village become more frequent they almost always tag along.

They run around while Tanjiro focuses on selling his goods. He’s often too busy to truly talk with those his own age. And while he doesn’t think badly of anyone, couldn’t even get one negative word out of his mouth, other children are focused on more frivolous things. Tanjiro is too busy taking care of his family.

Any downtime he does have is spent at home. It just falls in place that way. That time he spends playing with his siblings. Very rarely is he ever truly alone. Only when Takeo is sick or hurt and can’t join him chopping wood does he become truly solitary.

In the winter it’s quiet. Takeo is quiet but his feet still make the snow shuffle and crack beneath them. The scent of his brother standing nearby is often a comfortable reassurance too. Without him it smells like wet air. Only the occasional thump of Tanjiro’s axe against a tree breaks the silence.

He moves deeper into the forest as the sun rises. The boy isn’t due home for a few more hours and wants to find the best wood possible. Trees deeper within the grove tend to be stronger.

The scents moving around his body begin to thicken. Pine sap and damp earth float over his nose. If he focuses really hard he can detect hibernating creatures.

Thump. The axe hits the base of the tree again.

Behind him the scent of another animal arises. It’s vaguely unfamiliar, but not alarming enough to make him stop working.

Within a few strikes he manages to knock down the current target. The tree is a small thing, sturdy as it is. As the inside reveals itself it looks to be only a decade or two old.

Shrugging the basket off his back, Tanjiro begins to measure out lengths that will fit within the furnace.

So distracted by the task at hand he doesn’t notice the creature creeping up behind him until the stack of wood has been toppled over.

He’s met with the face of a boar, but the body of a man. It takes a few moments to realize the other boy is simply wearing a mask.

While Tanjiro is busy gawking at the newcomer, the boar-boy rushes towards him. Toppling over in the snow a warm chest crashes against his. Breath pushes against his neck.

“What’re you doin’ in my woods?” The words are clear despite the think layer of fur covering his mouth. There’s a gruffness to his voice, nearly a growl.

Tanjiro can’t manage to bring words forward at least the boy pressing down on him somewhat gently. His hands are still free, laying above his head.

Still shocked and staring, Tanjiro’s ear is tugged harshly. “Hey! Can’t you hear me?”

“Y-yea!” He tries to pry the hand off his soft skin.

“Then answer. You’re an intruder!” The red head’s ear is released, so a hand can squish Tanjiro’s cheeks together instead. “Tell me why you’ve invaded my territory.”

“Ish not ‘er land.” With his lips pressed tight he can hardly get any words out.

In further retaliation a fist smacks against his forehead. Of course Tanjiro isn’t hurt (in fact the small tug of his lips suggests the other boy might’ve bruised his hand slightly) but the action is still rather annoying.

“Who dares,” he roars, “Who dares to doubt Inosuke! I’m the king of the forest. This forest! You’re lower than a worm. You’re-“

Tanjiro drowned out the rest the insults. The boy, Inosuke, wasn’t really hurting him, but it was still rather annoying. The snow underneath was starting to sink into his clothes.

Pushing against Inosuke (who was still blabbering loudly about something) Tanjiro has to talk just as loud in hopes of being heard. “Well I’m sorry then! But me and my family have lived here for generations and I didn’t know there was any sort of king.” His tone was threateningly genuine, head cocking slightly to the side as he spoke.

It gave the other boy pause. His angry rant was cut off mid-sentence. “Well then you should introduce me! A king should know his subjects.”

Finally he rolls off of Tanjiro, straightening up. Brushing snow off his haori the boy offers a bright smile. “We should go back now then! My mother’s gotta know if we’re havin’ a guest.”

“Yea! Show me to yer cave minion!” Inosuke seems unbothered by the snow as it melts on his shoulders. Brushing some fingers through the fur on his mask he takes care of the snow there more than the white on his actual skin.

Tanjiro is trying to figure out how serious the other is about his harsh words. It pushes a light chuckle out of him. “I hope you don’t mind lotsa people though. I got 5 siblings! It can be hard to keep their names straight if you don’t know them, so I’ll wait to introduce you until we get there. Are you out here all alone?”

“Course not! I got all sorts of subjects. When yer a king it means everyone listen to you! All the mice and birds and shit do whatever you say.”

Tanjiro’s eyes widen. “Do they really? Oh- but you shouldn’t use such vulgar language around my siblings, they’re a lot younger than us. My mom might pinch your ears if you do.” He smiles wide. His mother can be quite a beast when it comes to keeping them in check.

Inosuke ignores his light admonishing. With his sight focused ahead he looks towards smoke rising in the distance. “Is that where you live? It’s a dumb place to build something. A monster could easily sneak up on you.”

“Oh w-well we don’t really have to worry about things like that.” The boy’s eyes have grown wide. “Do you deal with things like that?”

“Ha! I’ll tell you later, I’m sure you’re whole family will want to hear about my feats.” He puffs out his chest proudly. “I’ve traveled a long way y’know? I bet I know about all kinda of things you haven’t heard of.”

“Right! Well let’s hurry then. I bet my mom’s already finished cleaning.” When he starts running Inosuke outpaces him quickly. The winter air is too harsh against his lungs. With pink cheeks he arrives the front door. The other boy is banging on the door impatiently.

“Ah don’t be so loud! The little ones might still be sleeping. I can let you in myself.” He brushes past Inosuke to open the door.

Inside Nezuko waits just past the opening. “How come you’re making such a racket? Rokuta has been fussy all day and now he’s woken up again.”

“It wasn’t me! I brought a guest. He’s a boy I met while cutting wood in the forest.” Grabbing onto Inosuke’s hand he pulls the boar-man inside.

His friend stands there silently for now. It’s hard to tell where he’s looking or what he’s thinking when his eyes aren’t visible.

“Oh my!” Nezuko is shocked at his wild appearance. “W-why don’t you bring him inside? I’ll help mama with dinner since we have one more to cook for.”

The rest of the house has already noticed his presence. Hanako is pulling on her brother’s arm while they whisper about the “monster” inside.

“Is that really your head?” Shigeru seems horrified at the thought.

Inosuke cackles loudly. “Course not! This mask is a real boar.” To prove his point he proudly pulls is off his head.

Tanjiro is caught off guard. The boy is grinning, with pearly white teeth. His eyes are bright and triumphant. They’re also a beautiful green color, like the moss that grows in the spring. He’s never seen eyes so clear.

The rest of Inosuke’s face lines up perfectly with his eyes. High cheekbones flow into a small rounded chin. His pink lips are pouty even when he smiles. There’s a bit of pudginess that keeps his build from being too harsh.

“Brother brought a girl home!” Hanako immediately marches around the house, declaring the news.

Inosuke cries out, waving his hands in the air, “Who said that? Are you blind? I’m a boy dammit!”

The commotion only lasts for a minute or two. As soon as Inosuke looks like he may act, Kie steps into the room. Her natural state of calm takes immediate affect. Pale eyes, crinkling affectionately, focus on the boy. “Hi there, are you a friend of Tanjiro’s?” Kie’s soft voice is clear over the silence that has befallen the room.

Inosuke looks a little star struck in a way. He stays silent for a few seconds too long until Tanjiro gently pokes his side. He makes a barking sort of noise until he can form proper words. “I’m uh- I’m king of the mountain.” The boy can only muster up a fraction of his excitement from before.

“You must be awfully busy then. I’m glad you made time to visit.” She cups his cheek and smiles. It only last a second before she wipes her hand on her apron and pulls back. “Dinner will be ready soon, I hope you don’t mind the wait.”

When she disappears back into the kitchen the room has settled down. Some of the younger children run after Kie, chattering mindlessly and begging for attention. Nezuko follows her too, so she can help wrangle her siblings and make sure dinner actually gets done.

Tanjiro isn’t really sure what they’re supposed to do now so he gives Inosuke a tour of the house. It’s only four rooms total, with an outhouse right beside the wood storage, but has never felt too small. The living room takes up most of the space right at the entrance of the house. It works too as their dining room with a low table sitting in the middle. Around the floor there’s some stuffed dolls and wood blocks scattered. As they walk through the space Tanjiro picks up the discarded toys.

The pair only peeks into the bedroom. There’s futons lined up neatly in a row though usually they end up pushed together when somebody gets cold or frightened or just wants to be closer. He hadn’t considered if Inosuke would stay the night though that’d probably be the case. After dinner Tanjiro would look through the closet to find some of the nicer blankets.

As a guest he might want a bath too. The boy isn’t filthy but he is a bit dirty, particularly stray sticks and leaves getting caught in the fur that adorns his pants. Their bathroom is simply that, a tiny room that only has a small sliver of space to hold towels besides the tub.

Only the kitchen is left, which neither of the boys go into. The smell of cooking meat and steamed vegetables is starting to escape from the closed door. Inosuke gets a look on his face like he’s about to start drooling.

Tanjiro drags him down to the table and shortly after the majority of his younger siblings are kicked out of the kitchen. There’s still some lingering excitement from having a newcomer, prompting them to sit silently around the boy and listen to him talk.

He responds to any question with excited vigor. At the simplest prompting Inosuke is happy to go on a rant about his life. Tanjiro isn’t sure if everything he says is true. If it is he doesn’t know wether to be amazed or saddened. The boar-man proudly proclaims his animal lineage, patting the mask beside him. He lets Rokuta and Shigeru pet the coarse fur on the head covering.

The conversation flows easily until Nezuko comes in with the first tray of rice. The minute she sets it down Inosuke reaches a very dirty hand right into the bowl. Everyone shouts in a very comical way as he shoves the handful into his mouth.

Tanjiro is ready when he tries to gran another scoop. He interrupts the grabbing hand, and is quick to block the other as well. The boy is nothing if not persistent and they end up wrestling.

After Inosuke nearly topples the rice once more Tanjiro effectively has him pinned. “You have to wait until everyone’s ready to eat!”

“How come?! If it’s here now I should be able to have it.”

Hanako smacks his forehead and is quick to chime in. “Mama worked hard for this so you have to behave. We gotta make sure she can enjoy it too!”

After a few more wiggles Inosuke deflates under Tanjiro’s hold. Even after he’s released the boy stays limp on the ground. He doesn’t look up even when Nezuko brings out the rest of the meal, too busy grumbling.

It’s only when Kie comes in the calm the storm once more that he can be persuaded to sit back up. They have to show him how to clasp his hands together and give proper thanks.

Once he’s finally allowed to eat Inosuke goes right back to shoveling rice into his mouth. Crumbs scatter all over the table and floor. Tanjiro is stuck next to the guest while everyone else makes a wide berth around him. He doesn’t mind the mess or the fact that Inosuke steals half of his plate. It adds to his animal nature but in a cute puppy dog sort of way.

Dinner goes quickly. Perhaps it’s the new guest or how fast he eats the food. Everyone else talks like he’s not there. Which is fair considering anytime someone tries to direct a question towards him the boy answers with a mouthful. Some of his responses are vaguely intelligible, but only the short ones that have enough context to piece together.

Nezuko and Takeo always nod politely but the younger ones don’t know any better so they keep pestering him for the same answers. Hanako is just old enough to understand the flaws in Inosuke’s logic and points out each mistake in his tales.

Kie has to end things once more, prompting her children to focus on discussion amongst each other instead. She even cups Hanako’s face so she’ll stop staring at Inosuke.

Tanjiro expects him to leave a mess, after all there’s rice scattered within a good three feet radius of the table. He works like a vacuum somehow and doesn’t stop tearing at the food until the area is clean. It’s a bit of a miracle although there’s a chance Inosuke ate plently of grime tracked everywhere too. With his rugged appearance that doesn’t seem like it’ll hurt him however.

“Mama, can we do baths tonight?” Tanjiro’s already cleaning up his plates and chopsticks, collecting his friend’s as well. “It’s only a day early, and I want Inosuke-kun to have a good time here.”

“Of course. Why don’t you start fetching the water and I can help boil it. And I’m sure the rest of your siblings have already set up the futons for the night.” She says it with a pointed tone that sends every scrambling towards the bedroom.

Tanjiro laughs at their antics. Inosuke doesn’t seem privy to the intricacies of how a family speaks to each other. He has a wide-eyes look that only dissipates when Tanjiro offers out his hand.

The boar man puts him mask back on and is quick to rush outside. Tanjiro has to go through the motions of putting his scarf and overcoat back on. It takes a while to lace up his boots and by the time he’s outside Inosuke is covered in snow again from running around. The sun is just barely above the horizon, casting a golden glow over everything.

“Aren’t you cold out here with no shirt or anything? I can loan you something if you want.”

“No way! Shirts and people shit like that is way too uncomfortable. It’s dumb!” His voice drifts in and out as he shouts and scrambles around. With each wild step he kicks up snow.

Laughing lightly Tanjiro points east. “We’re going that way. Don’t worry, it’s just a short walk.”

“Course I knew that! I was checking the area for invaders.”

“Well in that case I’m grateful you’re here to help protect me.”

Inosuke flushes, he can only tell because it goes all the way down his neck.

It’s a short walk to the well, built specifically for their household. Tanjiro shows the boy how it works, who seems fascinated by how the water magically appears. Even when he explains that water lies at the bottom there’s no sign of understanding.

“Water comes from streams or ponds or lakes! If it were underground I’d know.”

Finding its best not to argue the other simply sighs. “I’m sure you’re right. Can you help me carry a bucket inside? It’ll go faster with both of us helping.”

Inosuke carries the buckets simply by their handles. He doesn’t complain of any soreness but Tanjiro knows they must be sore. He tries to show the boy how to balance them over his back with a staff, but Inosuke scoffs and lets the pole drop.

He runs back to the house, letting half the water spill in his haste. Tanjiro follows behind a much slower pace. When he gets inside there’s splatters of water all over the floor. He steps carefully around each puddle.

“Thank you Inosuke-kun, I’m glad you’re here to help out.” The boy basks in the attention. His face is covered but it’s not hard to tell he’s smiling.

As Tanjiro sets down the buckets Inosuke is already racing back out the door. It takes him longer in the kitchen, helping to tip the full buckets onto the stove.

Inosuke waits for him back at the well, but that just seems like it’s because he doesn’t know how to refill them. “Do your trick thingy again!” He cries. The boy is surprisingly patient while Tanjiro ties the bucket to the rope and carefully lowers it.

Again it comes up filled with clear cold water. Again the minute Inosuke has both baskets firmly in hand he runs off cackling. They cycle through the act a few times until Kie has enough to fill the bath.

“Whaddo we do now?” Inosuke stands in the middle of the bathroom.

“Oh well you do this part alone. Use the cloth and bucket to wipe off all the dirt and then you can soak for a bit.” There’s steam rising from the water. It’s sure to be a relaxing bath.

“And how do I do that?”

“You just… y’know scrub down with the rag.” He mimics the motion with his hand.

“Agh! Stay here and show me. You’re no good at talkin’.” The boy peels off his mask and fixes Tanjiro with a disgruntled stare.

He pauses briefly. There’s nothing odd about sharing a bath but the thought of sitting right next to Inosuke as they soak flusters him. “O-ok.”

It takes Tanjiro longer to undress. He has several layers that must be peeled off. Inosuke only needs to shuck off his loose pants and is finished. He squats on one of the stools and waits.

“Here turn around. Usually when people bathe together you’re supposed to wash each others backs. It’s supposed to help you bond.” Tanjiro drags another stool nearby and waits.

Inosuke seems paranoid about turning his back on the other boy. “Shit like this is stupid,” he declares. “I can get just as clean bathin’ in the river!”

Tanjiro hums as he dips the rag in lukewarm water and begins to scrub. “Don’t you get cold in the winter though? I can barely stand the ice even when I’m all wrapped up.”

“Ha! I got thick skin from livin’ in the moun’ins. I don’t get cold unless I wanna.”

“I’ve never heard of that, but then again I guess I’ve never met someone who really lived in the wilderness. There’s some hunters down in the village but they still return home often.”

“And that’s what makes me stronger than them. I bet I could beat up any of your phony moun’in men.”

Tipping his head back Tanjiro laughs lightly. “That’d be a sight to see. Here, you do my back now.” Both boys flip around.

“Ah- but don’t go too rough or anything.” It’s like he can already sense Inosuke’s clumsy hands.

“Course I won’t, ‘m not stupid!” Continuing to mutter under his breath the boy tries to mirror the way Tanjiro had scrubbed his back. It’s hard to tell if it’s working where there’s no dirt to actually scrub. He doesn’t understand the point of this but is still happy to participate.

Perhaps picking up on the poorly hidden nerves the redhead speaks again, “Are you sure you haven’t done this before? You’re really good at it.” It’s a partial truth, just enough honesty added so he doesn’t grimace at the thought of lying.

“I’m the best aren’t I? You’re probably the cleanest you’ve ever been right now.”

Tanjiro laughs. “That’d be impressive! If you’d like it’s probably fine for us to get in the bath now.”

Inosuke takes that as a sign to immediately drop his rag and climb in. It’s more of a jump though really, sending some waves that crash over the edges of the tub. “Ha, It’s hot! How’d that happen?” He waves his fingers under the water as if he can catch the heat.

The other boy steps in much slower. The warmth is a bit of a shock, especially after being in the cold all day. Immediately it paints his skin in a reddish tone. “It’s nice though right?”

“Mm it’s hot!” It’s not a confirmation either way but Inosuke seems pleased with the temperature. Soon enough his skin too is flushed.

Their pink knees touch in the small tub. Inosuke continues to splash around a bit while Tanjiro simply soaks. His eyes crinkle in amusement.

“And you do this every night?”

“Oh no! Only once or twice a week. Usually we just wash up briefly the rest of the time.”

“Huh, well if I hadda bath like this one I’d soak every night! You’re dumb for not doin’ that.”

“It’s a lot of work. I don’t like making mama do more than she has to.”

Inosuke nods in understanding. Even when simply mentioned he still seems rather entranced by Kie. “I’ll start doin’ it then. You can show me how you’re uh, tover works and let me use it to take hot baths every night… And I might let you join too sometimes.” He mumbles the last bit, looking down at his legs.

Tanjiro feels warmth spread within his chest, confusion clouds it though. “Tover? What’s that?”

“Y’know the- fire thingy on the table.”

“Stove?”

“That’s what I said! Stofe!”

The redhead laughs. “St-oh-vuh. Say it like that.”

“Stofe!”

Tanjiro opens his mouth wide, hoping it’ll make his pronunciation more clear. “Stove.”

Angered by the incessant nagging Inosuke’s hand slaps over the other boy’s mouth. “I’m saying it right! Stofe. Stofe stofe stofe!”

Trying a tactic often used on his siblings the boy licks the hand covering his lips. Usually the offender would jerk away and complain but Inosuke just grins.

“Ha, something that weak won’t bother me. You’ll have a try harder.”

Which he does. Tanjiro grabs the boy’s wrist and tries to wrench it off. It’s not surprise that it’s a hard task, looking at the muscles on him. Even with all his strength he can only peel back the fingers one at a time before they snap back over his face.

As their tussle gets more intense water is sent splashing over the sides of the tub. Tanjiro would’ve backed off long ago but Inosuke seems intent on covering his mouth even if the other seemingly gives up.

He rests for a moment before trying to give one last good attempt. Tanjiro springs upwards to grab at the boy. It’s a good jump that catches him off guard. As he settles on top of Inosuke the hand finally rips off his face.

The heat of the bath alongside the brief tussle leaves his chest heaving. They lean close together within the small tub. Inosuke is so close to him.

There’s a knock at the door. “Nee-san! I don’t wanna take a cold bath.” Takeo’s voice is muffled through the doorway. When there’s no response he knocks on the door, shouting louder, “Hurry up!”

Tanjiro sits back up. “We’re almost done.” Inosuke’s face is an even brighter red. They don’t acknowledge their closeness, just climbing out and pulling towels over their hips.

In a mixture of embarrassment and an unusual burst of anger (it’ll disappear in a moment) he rushes out the door quickly. “Be more patient,” he scolds. It’s spoken boldly but not in a yell. Though it’s the most outspoken he usually gets.

Instead of wilting Takeo just laughs. “Somebody wanted aloooone time.” Immediately after the rest of his siblings join in.

“Mama!” Tanjiro isn’t sure what else to do, he feels put on the spot. He shouldn’t be flustered but something grows inside his chest. “Mama they’re bugging the guest.”

“I’m not bugged!” Inosuke comes out with the towel barely clinging to him. It’s no surprise when it drops. Everyone squeals before running. It sets something off within him, some sort of predator instinct born from living in the wild, and the boy sets chase. Tanjiro has to then join the commotion, holding desperately to the towel around his waist.

It’s quite the sight when Kie finally does emerge from the bedroom.

[seaskate]

Chapter one of Bandages and Salt

A storm raged over Camp Half-Blood the night that Tyson left for the Cyclops Forges at Poseidon's court. Due to the Golden Fleece having healed Thalia's pine tree sufficiently, the storm passed over camp like normal. However, this knowledge did nothing to help the foreboding feeling that had placed itself in my chest. My predictions always had a knack for coming true, and as if I was one of the Three Fates myself, they were almost never pleasant. My predictions were never wrong, no matter how much I might want them to be.

Lightning danced in the sky above camp as I feel asleep, as if the sky was sharing my feelings as well. My dreams were just as restless as they have been for weeks now. Demigods' dreams were almost never just dreams, but visions not meant to be easily brushed off as some nightmares dream scape.

When I opened my eyes in the dream, I saw the same cliff that I saw a year ago when Annabeth, Grove, and I had snuck into the Underworld. It was the cliff that Luke's shoes tried to drag Grover down into. Tarturus waited down there, with monsters and creatures older than some of the gods themselves. I could hear a voice calling from down below, taunting me. Polybitues sits alone in his cave, fooling himself into believing that he has won a great battle, Kronos' sickening voice calling up to me, what stops you from being the same as him. And there it was, a source for my uneasiness. Something had felt off since we sent Clarrise back to camp with the Fleece, it seemed as if Luke let us go too easily. Now I know that's because he had.

My dream changed as I heard Kronos' acidic laugh. This time I was following my brother, Tyson down to Poseidon's court. On a deep blue throne, with coral decorating it, sat a man that somehow looked regal in a fisherman's clothing. As if noticing my presence, he looked me in the eyes and spoke the same two words that had been mailed to me days ago, "Brace yourself."

I woke up with a start.

There was a loud banging at my door. Though annoying, it could not yet be called persistent since the perpetrator of the noise let themselves into my cabin before I could even call out to them. Grover. The half goat was stuttering something about Annabeth and the hill. "She's lying there... just lying there..." was the most coherent sentence that the boy could manage to form. The look in his eyes wasn't that of grief or wordiness like I would have expected if Annabeth had been attacked while on guard duty last night, or if she had been killed. Instead there was an intense look of panic, wrongness, and above all, fear.

Something was off.

I ran outside, across the central yard with Grover following close behind me. Dawn was just breaking on what would have been another pleasant day at camp. The horn for breakfast had not yet rung, but still the whole camp was alive due to the event happening at Half-Blood Hill. The campers were stirring and coming out of their cabins, whispers following us as we ran to the hill. I couldn't help but to recall my dreams as we ran, some of the other campers joining us in some bizarre fashion of armor and pajamas. Kronos' strange proclamation and my sense of foreboding. I think I'm starting to understand where this is going, and I wasn't sure I liked it all that much.

A familiar clop of horse hooves rang in my eyes, and out of the side of my eye I saw Chiron galloping up beside us. His face was grim. The centaur grabbed me by my arm, hurriedly swung me up onto his back, his actions telling just how dire the situation was since this was something the man would normally never do.

We thundred to Half-Blood Hill. Chiron was mumbling something to himself, like a scientist just figuring out why the experiment had not quite gone the way that he had wanted. "Cure the titan lord," he whispered. "He's tricked us again, given himself another chance to control the prophecy."

I didn't have to ask him what he meant.

We came upon the top of the hill, everyone lifelessly moving out of our way, their faces all similarly struck like they had seen a ghost. We stopped at the base of the tree, where a strange girl was lying. Annabeth, still clad in her Greek armor, was kneeling next to the girl.

Chiron was speaking to himself again, "The fleece healed the poison from the tree," he whispered just loud enough for me to hear, "but it seems that the position was not the only thing that the tree had purged"

I lept off of Chiron's back and went to the girl. Chiron was screaming at me to wait, but I ignored the centaur. Kneeling by the girl's side, I studied her as I put my hand to her cool forehead. She was freezing, but alive. The girl was dressed somewhere between the styles of punk and goth: a black shirt made ineffective by the holes in it from some monster's claws, the tattered black jeans of a street kid, and a well kept leather jacket with buttons on it of bands that I had never heard of before.

"She needs nectar and ambrosia," I called out. I had none on me, but I figured that at least one of the campers that had taken the time to throw on armor would have at least thought to bring something to help any wounded. The girl below me had just been removed from the tree and the fleece's care, and if no one did anything fast, her father would have to turn her into a tree once more.

"Come on! What's wrong with you people? Let's get her to the Big House." I screamed at them. I knew what was wrong with them, the demigods were too caught up in their own shock to be able to function efficiently. The campers that had all fought, and won, against monsters, were now standing uselessly around us.

Still, someone moved, just not a camper. The girl in question took a shaky breath below me. Her movement reminded me of someone who had just woken up from a nightmare that they had been unable to escape. She coughed as her eyelids fluttered open to reveal startling electric blue eyes. She stared at me, those same eyes holding a question in them.

"Who-" she started.

I cut her off, not wanting her to waste her energy on something so pointless. "I'm Percy," I told her, "you're safe now."

The girl commented on having a strange dream of dying. I didn't tell her that this had happened, nor how long ago it happened. This girl was the very same girl from my vision not too long ago. The one that had traveled with Grover, Luke and Annabeth. The person that I had been told would either be my best friend, or my worst enemy.

Though I already knew her name before she said it, I asked anyway.

"I'm Thaila," the girl said, "Daughter of Zues"

‐‐‐

Thalia passed out not much longer after that. She must have exhausted her limited energy while speaking. I glanced around and couldn't help but feel disappointed at the still shocked faces of the campers. My cousin was light in my arms as I picked her up and carried her down Half-Blood Hill. I would have to talk to Chiron about getting her on a proper diet now that she's no longer a street kid or a tree.

My movement must have woken some of the campers up from their stupor, because the next second I felt the wind of bodies rushing past me. Some of the older Apollo cabin members were running down the hill, golden hair blazing in the morning sun, to the Big House to prepare a spot for Thalia in the infirmary. I arrived a minute or so later, the place was bustling with movement. One of the campers directed me to a bed and helped me place Thalia down on it.

"Need a hand?" I asked the older boy. The camper was reluctant, but after glancing at the chaos surrounding us, he sighed in resignation.

"Sure. The nectar and ambrosia are over there," he pointed to a tall cabinet, "grab some of both." I looked at the condition of Thaila's body for a second and asked, "child size amount? She doesn't like she could handle much more than that." Even though Thalia looked to be about fifteen, having still aged while she was a tree, she was still weak from the poison.

The camper's face became puzzled for a moment and then seemed to wash over with a pleasant surprise. "That's right," he nodded at me while smiling.

Over the next two days, I spent most of my time in the infirmary helping the Apollo Cabin with the minor day-to-day demigod injuries, so someone could always keep an eye on Thalia and her condition. I learned how dress wounds, preform stiches, and do other menial medical task that were too small to really justify the use of ambrosia.

"You sure your not a child of Apollo," the same camper from before jocked at one point. I only gave him a playful smile while messing with the water from a nearby pitcher as if to prove my point. The camper sighed jokingly and watched as I maneuvered the water and refilled all the patients' cups. Spending time here has helped with my control.

Despite all the positive effects of my being here, my motive wasn't to help, but to observe. I listened to the way the campers talked and gossiped about Thalia's sudden re-emergence. The campers were scared of what was to come. Now that there was a new child of a broken oath, there was a new chance for Kronos to control the prophecy.

Though no one out right said it, I could tell that most camper were wary of the girl for this very reason. Anytime someone came into the infirmary, they made sure to give Thalia a wide berth. In her frist life, the sleeping girl had been very close to Luke, they were like family. The campers were worried that this closeness. To them, she was a loose canon waiting to explode.

However, something told me this wasn't the case. Eventhough I know that their fears are plausible, I couldn't seem to make myself care about them. If Annabeth, a girl that was desperately and disgustingly, in love with Luke could stand against him, so could Thalia. During the time that Thalia was asleep, Grover and Annabeth barely left her side. This was the other reason that I offered to help; it was easier to study people when they didn't know that was what you're doing.

For his part, Grover seemed stuck somewhere between sadness and relief. Thalia was the girl whose reaponsiblity for her death he had been carrying on his shoulders for years now. The thought of her being back was like drinking nectar after the hardest battle of your life. Annabeth couldn't stop staring at Thalia. Every few minutes she would touche the sleeping girl in some way. It was like Annabeth was checking to make sure this wasn't all a dream. That her friend was really back.

Chiron stopped by on the second day, the look he gave Thalia was almost... fatherly. If I were to guess he and Annabeth had talked since Thalia came back. They both seemed determined to keep her on the path of Olympus and its perseverance rather than ruin. 

---

On the night of the second day since Thalia's emergence, I was cleaning the storage while the three were sitting with Thalia. "It's like she's auditioning for Sleeping Beauty," I commented while walking over to them, "you know, minus the old timey clothing" Annabeth shot me an acidic look. "Okay. Not funny" Just then, the Sleeping Beauty in question concluded her audition. The girl's eyes fluttered open. "Where-" she didn't get to finish her question as Annabeth threw herself at Thalia. "Welcome back to the land of the living Mrs. Grace," Chiron said. He smiled warmly at the girl. "Maybe once your better I could teach you some tricks like controlling the mist" Oh. "Hey! Once your better let's go on a quest together, like old times" Annabeth exclaimed. She looked like a little kid again. Oh. "Yeah, I'll come too" Grover added. "Yeah-" Thalia said. She seemed to be coming out of being startled. "I'd like that." Watching the three of them. It felt like losing something that was never rightfully mine in the first place. Like I was the interloper instead of her. They were all too consumed with each other to notice that I was gone...

[clouds-and-frogs]

Happy birthday to one of the precious boy ever. I think that everybody in this earth need a friend like Kenji. A friend that only with his smile can make your day better.

He is like a shining sun that warm you and give your the strength to hope again even after an horrible storm. Happy birthday Kenji, you the most beautiful sunflower ever!🌻💖

"Be not Defeated by the Rain" poem of Kenji Miyazawa

Be not defeated by the rain, Nor let the wind prove your better. Succumb not to the snows of winter. Nor be bested by the heat of summer.

Be strong in body. Unfettered by desire. Not enticed to anger. Cultivate a quiet joy.

Count yourself last in everything. Put others before you.

Watch well and listen closely. Hold the learned lessons dear.

A thatch-roof house, in a meadow, nestled in a pine grove's shade.

A handful of rice, some miso, and a few vegetables to suffice for the day.

If, to the East, a child lies sick: Go forth and nurse him to health.

If, to the West, an old lady stands exhausted: Go forth, and relieve her of burden.

If, to the South, a man lies dying: Go forth with words of courage to dispel his fear.

If, to the North, an argument or fight ensues: Go forth and beg them stop such a waste of effort and of spirit.

In times of drought, shed tears of sympathy.

In summers cold, walk in concern and empathy.

Stand aloof of the unknowing masses:

Better dismissed as useless than flattered as a "Great Man".

This is my goal, the person I strive to become.

[ancestorsalive]

Sandstone Mother Goddess in high backed throne, from Iron Age Wales. She is holding a round native wild crab apple (Malus sylvestris) in one hand, with a pine branch (Pinus sylvestris) in the other. Her identity cannot be certain but she may be Modron, so ancient she was nearly forgotten even to the Mabinogian which names her in passing as the mother of Arthur's knight and hero Mabon ("Youth"), while a few other fragmentary documents give at least her name. Modron's consort, the father of Mabon, was Melit ("Lightning") not otherwise attested but likely the British Celtic version of Gallo-Celtic god Loucetios ("Lightning") whose consort was Nemetona ("She Is A Sacred Grove"), similar to Jupiter and Juno. Another old text identifies her with the supernatural Washer by the Ford, daughter of Afallach, and mother of twins, a boy Owain who became a Knight of the Round Table, and a girl Morfudd who is the same as Olwen the mother of the Britonic poet Talieson. Wherever she set her foot, white flowers (eirlys aka snowdrops) erupted from the ground. A Roman text says she was known as Dea Matrona. She may have been one of the Matronae which were worshipped as a trio of matrons who were variously shown with baskets offruit, loaves of bread, or fostering babies. At Hadrian's Wall was a shrine to Matrona and Maponos, the same as Modron and Mabon. The Romans identified Maponos with Apollo, so the Washer by the Ford legend of her birthing twins might well be Apollo-like Owain and Artemis-like Morfudd/Olwen, leaving us to conclude Modron/Matrona was the same as Leto Greek goddess of moon and sun, and her origin was in turn in the Arabian Sun-mother Allatu.

~ Jessica Amanda Salmonson

[gemwing1988]

In The Season of Love

A/N: Just a small early Christmas present for my good friend, @Nataliepthatsme. This small fanfic will be based off from a scene from The Swan Princess Christmas with a Cuphead twist. All of the characters from the Cuphead franchise belong to StudioMDHR while Audrey, Josh and Monica belong to Natty and the song, “Season of Love (the movie version)” is from The Swan Princess Christmas. If anyone wants to know how the song goes, try checking it up on YouTube. Hope you like it, Nat.

************************************************************************

It is Christmas on the Inkwell Isles and everyone is getting into the spirit.

While everyone is hustling and bustling to buy some gifts and some tasty foods for the big dinner on the most wonderful time of the year and decorating their homes to add in some extra festive sparkle, the residents of Inkwell have one special tradition that takes place before Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.

Every year, all of the good people of the Isles gather round the biggest and oldest pine tree in a peaceful little grove in the heart of the Inkwell Woods and decorate it with colourful lights, the dazzling tinsel and set the Christmas Star atop of it. Not only that, but they also place on handmade Christmas ornaments made based on the acts of good deeds and happiest memories the residents had made over the years. It was a charming Christmas tradition on all of Inkwell that had passed down from generations and years ago.

They call it “Ornament Day”.

And for Audrey and her husband, Josh, this wasn’t just their first Christmas on the Inkwell Isles but also their very first Ornament Day.

Over at certain cottage, an overly enthusiastic Elder Kettle swung the window open from his bedroom as he joyfully hollered: “IT’S ORNAMENT DAY!!”

This caught Cuphead and Mugman’s attention as they were in the middle of playing marbles, instantly stopping what they were doing in glee.

“Ornament Day?!” The brothers echoed.

Meanwhile, over at The Flytrap, the frog brothers, Ribby and Croaks were overjoyed as they were on stage and cheered out to their guests: “It’s Ornament Day, folks!”

Over at the Honeycomb Herald, Rumor Honeybottoms was just as overjoyed as she sighed, “Ornament Day… how I love it.”

All through town, the newspaper trucks zoomed by as the papermen tossed out the bundled piles of the latest issues of the Inkwell Blotter titled, “ORNAMENT DAY IS HERE!”

Over at the theatre, Audrey had just finished helped Sally Stageplay decorating the place for the holidays and for a special showcase that Sally and her work staff hold every year.

“Thank you so much for the help, Audrey dear.” Sally said as she and Audrey met up with her husband, who was holding out her coat. “It means so much to mean that we get the theatre into its most festive shape for the yearly Christmas Spectacular this year.”

“I’m always happy to help, Sally. You know that.” Audrey smiled. “So, what else were you going to tell me after that?”

“I thought you would like to know about a very special tradition we all hold every year on our dear Isles.” Sally explained as her husband helped her into her coat. “You know about Ol’ Noel?”

“Oh! You mean the oldest pine tree over at that grove in the woods?” Audrey asked. “Yeah, the boys showed her to Josh and me during our nature walk yesterday.”

It was true. It had snowed and Audrey had always loved it when there’s snow at Christmastime. Cuphead and Mugman had asked her and Josh to come for a hike in the woods with them through the snow and they led them into the grove where the tree that everyone affectionately named “Ol’ Noel”.

She was rested in the centre of a charming little grove that reminded Audrey of the one from the scene where Anna, Kristoff and Sven first met Olaf from Frozen, surrounded by frozen, glistening willow trees and a frozen lake suited for iceskating. It was so breathtakingly beautiful.

“Well, every year, everyone gathers over at Ol’ Noel’s to make her just as dazzling but we also present her special ornaments that the good people have made in memory of our past good deeds and all the special moments we have together.” Sally explained. “It takes place before Christmas Eve. We call it ‘Ornament Day’.”

“That sounds like a cute tradition.” Audrey commented with a smile.

“Indeed, and for us, it is just as valued as Christmas itself.”

And what is a good old Christmas special than a festive and catchy Christmas song that can warm every heart?

Sally: 🎶 Bells ring!

Her husband: 🎶 Heart sing!

They both take Audrey by the hands and lead her out of the theatre, leading her through town to show her the festivities of the people getting ready for the occasion as they sang themselves.

Townspeople: 🎶Come see what love brings!

Over at the bakery, Saltbaker is happily decorated some shortbread cookies after he got them out of the oven.

Saltbaker: 🎶 Pictures tell a story of two hearts full of love They’re sharing a memory of caring and tender rejoicing

After he had finished adding the finishing touches, he walked over to the window to show off the cookies to Audrey, Sally and her husband, offering some.

Meanwhile, over at the tailors, a grandfatherly human toon is happily making some Christmas stockings quickly, piling them up (cartoon logic).

Tailor: 🎶 It’s the season of love that comes at Christmastime!

Audrey turns to see the residents happily showing her their Christmas ornaments. Even some pets and inanimate objects that suddenly sprung to live (again, cartoon logic) were holding some ornaments.

Eddy Elephant: 🎶 We live it

Grandma Ellie Elephant: 🎶 Love it

Little Toon Rabbit Girl: 🎶 Beg it to come

Townspeople: 🎶 And want it to stay

Sally: 🎶 To have the season each day

Everyone: 🎶 It’s the season of love

Over at the jeweller’s, an elderly toon dog named Mr. Rover was asking the local jeweller clerk to help spruce up his old Christmas ornament.

Mr. Rover: 🎶 Lulu’s lost her lustre Will you help make her shine?

The jeweller was happy to help as he added in a gemstone onto the ornament. Just as Mr. Rover paid him, the jeweller generously and secretly placed the coin inside his back pocket.

Jeweller: 🎶 A jewel in this spot… And your coin in your pocket for Christmas

Audrey watches on as everyone is helping one another about. Even the Root Pack were on their best behaviour as they helped hurl some carts of goods into a loading truck.

Everyone: 🎶 It’s the kind acts of love That makes a Christmas shine We’re lighter, brighter Wiser by far

Out in town, Saltbaker and the tailor were passing the cookies and stallings to everyone, especially the children.

Tailor: 🎶 Because we follow that star

Saltbaker: 🎶 Because we find who we are

Audrey: 🎶 In the season of love

Later on, by sunset, everyone on the Isles gathered over at the grove in the Inkwell Woods and began t decorate Ol’ Noel, getting into the spirit of Christmas. Even Josh and Monica the fairy have arrived with Audrey.

Everyone: 🎶 Bells are rung Carols sung It’s begun Our glad Christmastime!

As everyone was preparing to get out the ornaments, Josh carefully reaches into a small box Mugman was hold up, pulling out a Christmas ornament he had made. With Monica and the Cups’ help of course.

As Josh happily gives it to her, Audrey was touched to see it was a light rosy pink glass bauble with figurines of Josh and herself in their wedding outfits inside. With Monica’s magic, the figures were actually dancing inside the bauble just like Prince Derek and Princess Odette from The Swan Princess.

Josh: 🎶 But when I give a gift from my heart

Audrey: 🎶 Then Christmas has finally arrived!

Waving her magic wand, Monica casted a spell to weave the Christmas lights and tinsel around the tree, leaving the everyone else to see to placing the ornaments on it.

Everyone: 🎶 There’s a magic that takes the fear out of living When you have it, there’s peace in your heart That’s what it does There’s a magic that’s found when you’re giving

As everyone placed the ornaments on each branch, they actually lit up and magical sparkles flow around them. It was not cartoon logic, but pure magic. The spirit of Christmas. Even Audrey and Josh were awed when their ornament did the exact same thing the moment they hung it.

🎶 There’s a magic that takes the fear out of living When you have it, there’s peace in your heart That’s what it does There’s a magic that’s found when you’re giving

Ms. Chalice was in her ghost form as she carried the Christmas Star and placed it atop of the tree. She returns to the ground and turned back to normal, revealing she is wearing an elegant light teal winter coat with white (fake of course) fur trimming, white earmuffs, orange gloves and orange winter boots.

Chalice, pulls Cuphead and Mugman into a hug as they, Audrey, Josh, Monica and Elder Kettle admired the beauty of the decorative tree.

🎶 And it’s here In the season of love

Working her magic, Monica casted a spell to turn on Ol’ Noel’s lights as making all of the willow trees in the grove light up in brilliant hues of blue and lilac, much to the awe of the residents as they cheered.

“Ohhhh! This is new!” Cuphead beamed.

“It’s beautiful!” Mugman sniffled happily.

“You can say that again, fellas.” Chalice chimed in.

“Works every time.” Monica said with a wink.

Admiring the beautiful lights, Audrey and Josh hugged each other.

“I think this will be the best Christmas ever.” Audrey commented.

“But it’s even better when I’m with the woman I love and married.” Josh smiled as he gently stroked her cheek, making her blush.

“Aww, you!” Audrey teased.

Just then, a mistletoe tied with a ribbon suddenly appears above them courtesy of Monica’s magic. Surprised at first, the couple looked at each other and smiled. And, just like from The Swan Princess, they kissed each other with Josh gently placing his hand at the back of Audrey’s head while she set her hand over his shoulder.

As they pulled away, gazed lovingly into each other’s eyes.

“Merry Christmas, Audie.” Josh sighed.

“Merry Christmas, Josh.” Audrey replied lovingly.

As she, her husband and all of the amazing friends they had made during their adventures on the Inkwell Isles, Audrey knew that this was truly going to be her most interesting and best Christmas for years to come.

************************************************************************

May you have a very merry and magical Christmas, Happy New Year and may your dreams shine. ✨

❄️🎄🎁

[thespacelizard]

Graduation Ceremony

Tags: original drow characters, D/s dynamics, teacher-student relationship, master/apprentice, mutual pining, restraint, drunk!Ashenivir

Summary: Ashenivir has passed his exams, and now receives his final reward—graduation from the Arcanum, a Master himself, ready to take his brother’s place as wizard of House Zauvym. But an offer from Rizeth has him rethinking all his plans, and amidst much celebration, Ashenivir must make a choice; be the good son he has always striven to be, and serve his Matron? Or take a chance on his Master and an unknown future?

—

Keszriin’s Chataurvvin picnics were the stuff of legend, but the one she’d arranged for Ashenivir that day had been a quiet one. Just the five of them, secreted away in a perfect grove of young zurkhwood stalks, with narrow nightlight fungi providing soft, faintly pulsing illumination. They were deeper into the fungal forest than could entirely be called safe, but they were all wizards of no small ability, and besides, the Myconids never came up this far. The worst they had to worry about was a giant centipede or two taking an interest in their food.

Ashenivir was glad for the peace of it, and that Keszriin had taken to heart his dislike for the grand designs she’d had the last time he’d been poised to graduate. He was less glad at the extravagant gifts she’d presented him with. It was nothing to her, with House Eilist’tra’s coffers at her disposal, but receiving such things always made him uncomfortable.

Moonstone earrings, enchanted with Eilistraeen blessings of protection and good fortune, now decorated his ears. And a new cloak too, also enchanted; it would shift through whatever style was fashionable as he—or rather, as Keszriin—wished it. She liked playing dress-up with him, given half the chance. It was folded away in his bag now, over by the remains of the picnic. He and Keszriin lay side by side on the blanket, on their backs with their ankles hooked together.

“Feeling okay?” she asked.

“Fine,” Ashenivir replied. Keszriin knocked the toe of her boot against his.

“You sure about that? You got through the exams alright, but if you go off the deep end again about the ceremony—”

“I’m alright, Keszriin, I promise. If anything, I’m excited.”

There was a shriek from the edge of the grove, and the sound of magic ricocheting off an arcane shield. Dresvan and Pellanue had wandered over there a while ago, certain they’d seen a rare moth, and tipsily determined to catch it. Vuzree had gone after them, though whether for supervision or entertainment, Ashenivir wasn’t certain.

“Don’t burn the damn forest down!” Keszriin shouted, and was rewarded with a chorus of cursing. “Idiots.”

She reached over and linked her fingers into Ashenivir’s, lifting their hands into the fading duskglow. It was getting late, and even accomplished wizards knew to be careful in Chataurvvin at night.

“I’m going to miss you,” she said.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Ashenivir said. “You know where I live, you can visit whenever you like.”

“I know, but it’s not the same. And your Matron will be there, waggling her eyebrows at us.”

Ashenivir sighed. It wouldn’t be the same. Keszriin and the others might visit, but they’d still be apprentices doing the thing he loved the most, and he’d be stuck weaving decorations for the Zauvym estate and keeping his mother company.

And he wouldn’t be able to see Rizeth at all.

Read more on AO3

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Obedience is a D/s, m/m dungeons & dragons fic series set in my homebrew drow city, featuring two wizard boys, the kinky magic they get up to, and the feelings they definitely don’t have for each other.

Read the series so far here: Obedience - thespacelizard

[semperintrepida]

I’m behind on tumblr but if you’re still taking writing qs, 5&6 please. Also, 15 fascinates me because I have learned recently of myself that absolutely font matters when writing (work) stuff and i get distracted if it’s not “right”, so if you have thoughts on how font affects your (creative) writing process I’d be interested in hearing! Also, not on the list: do you outline with pen & paper or is it all on the computer?

My deepest apologies, I somehow missed this ask in my inbox and found it yesterday while doing that tarot ask meme.

5. What is an image/set of images that you're particularly proud of?

I've been thinking about my older work lately, so I'll highlight a deep cut that only my OG readers will remember: ALL of the formal Japanese garden imagery in Kunoichi. Yeah, I'm proud of that.

They kept walking, until the path rounded back toward the entrance gate, but Britt stopped Santana before she'd gotten too far ahead. "Over here," she said, and she led Santana to a small, unobtrusive path that headed deeper into the corner of the garden, easily missed if one didn't know to look for it. It led them through a grove of green foliage, the air cool with the promise of moisture, and as they walked further the promise was revealed: a small pond with an island, accessible by two narrow stone bridges. Sunlight filtered down through the pines that ringed the pond and cast the space with a milky glow the color of undyed silk. It wasn't quiet, not with the metropolis around them, but it was peaceful, and the light and the feeling of being surrounded by something sacred made it the kind of place where voices automatically lowered to whispers, where possibilities seemed endless. Santana stood like a stone statue, as still as the waters of the pond, taking it all in. She breathed softly and slowly. They stood there for a long time, saying nothing.

In the beginning of Kuno, Britt is a dead woman walking, surrounded by a sterile, hyper-urban world. But every garden in this story is very much alive, and a long-dormant seed, given the right care, can sprout and blossom again.

6. Idea that you always wanted to write but could never make work?

Hoo boy. Yeah, I've got an idea, one I've been kicking around for about a decade now, for an original science fiction book (novelette? novella? who knows?). The protagonist is a woman who's a drill sergeant in a military belonging to an empire involved in an endless war with another empire at a scale where after battles, entire planets are stripped for natural resources, mineral and organic. The protag's recruits are all clones of dead soldiers, who retain traces of their original personality but need to be taught fighting skills, and she forms a connection with one clone soldier, a headstrong woman who has an innate knack for the fighting arts.

The protag trains her clone squad, then sends them off to battle, where they all die and their organic matter is scraped off the barren rocks so it can be used to make more clone soldiers.

Protag is assigned a new squad of clones, same as the first. Forms a connection with the same clone soldier, who is not an exact copy of the previous, but clone personalities never are...

The clones go to battle and die. The cycle repeats, and each time, more of the protag's backstory is revealed, until we find out that the protagonist was once an admiral of the fleet, and the headstrong clone soldier was her wife who died in battle, after which the protag asked to be demoted to the drill sergeant for the clone squad where her (dead) wife's clone would be assigned. It's the only way for them to be together again.

I've never been able to write this thing due to other obsessions getting in the way (*cough*kyssandra*cough*) and the fact that I fucking hate worldbuilding, and unfortunately, expectations around hard science fiction demand worldbuilding to an absurd degree of accuracy. I'm sorry, I'm not going to learn astrophysics so I can write this story.

15. Does font matter to you when you're writing a draft?

Yes, but not in the usual way—at least, not using typical fonts like Times New Roman or Helvetica. I use the same font that I use when writing code: Droid Sans Mono Dotted for Powerline. I've been ruined for anything else.

Bonus Question: do you outline with pen & paper or is it all on the computer?

All on the computer. I used to do a thing where I'd keep track of scenes on bundles of index cards, but these days I find digital notes easier to deal with.

[fic writing questions meme]