#bonus point if River happens to be there at that moment

[pia-writes-things]

I just realised that because Steven Moffatt stated in The Angels Take Manhattan that the Doctor can't go back to New York City in the 40s because the Ponds are there, it means that either future showrunner will have to ignore that and make it even more of a stupid loophole than it is, or, Stephen Moffat effectively ruined an entire decade in New York City for every future showrunner

I don't know which option is funnier to be honest

[thewhumpcaretaker]

⚜ 𝕋𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕎𝕙𝕠 ℍ𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕃𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝔽𝕠𝕣 - ℂ𝕙. 𝕏: ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝕍𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕃𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕕 𝕚𝕟 ℝ𝕠𝕞𝕖 ⚜

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ ✧.*★ Thank you to @evren-sadwrn for the beta read!

Summary: Vincent goes back to his old life in Rome as if nothing happened. But there's Chidi, at his side, the one thing Vincent doesn't want to forget from the last few months. And it's causing complications...especially with Santino.

TW: grief, nightmares, PTSD, drug use, hypersexuality, stalking, jealousy, withdrawing consent during sex (and the response to the “no” is scary, although there’s no assault), attempted kidnapping, knife wound, concussion, Dead Dove Do Not Eat

Author's Note: The title is a callback to that line in one of the first chapters, in which Chidi wonders how Vincent lived in Rome - bonus points if you remembered!

Fine. Good and done with. Vincent was strong again.

It was better to forget all of it. That bloodied thing that he could not recognize reflected in the mirrors outside the ballroom. The words coming through the intercom. The time in the hospital. Even the coronation. That was worst of all, perhaps. The disappointment in himself, in the way that perfect day had felt so hollow… No, no, no, just forget any of it had happened. And to Vincent’s great relief, his mind blanked it all mercifully away. There was a gaping hole at the center of him where he dared not tread, but that was better than dealing with it. He could even talk about it, very easily, just as he had done at the ball with everybody. As long as he didn’t feel it, he could talk about it. This was the way one recovered from grief, he decided. One day, one simply decided to stop being a baby.

Yes, he was just going back to Italy after a few days away, and everything would be normal. “Il palazzo,” as he called it, was the quaintest, pleasantest place anyone could imagine living, and he would thoroughly enjoy it. It was humble by the Marquis' standards, but still very comfortable, and fully staffed with maids and a cook. He’d made it every bit as lavish as might suit him, while being a little less stuffy than Versailles. There was an abundance of French furniture with a Roman twist, in sunset gradients from pink to burgundy, with gilding glittering at the edges of everything. There was statuary in honor of Bacchus and Apollo. There was a full bar in the parlor where Vincent was sure to entertain guests as often as he could. There was some obscure art piece or trinket in almost every room, gifted from suitors. He would walk by the river in the mornings, with one of those suitors on his arm, and have luncheons with Gianna to talk business. And sneak off with Santino, not to come back until morning. What happened in between was…generally something of a blur.

In Rome, he didn’t feel quite as unsafe as he did in the estate. He had learned to navigate this city on his own – always guarded, yes, but giving the guards the slip long enough to do a line unseen. The Myrmidons didn’t have the slightest idea about his activities…well, maybe the slightest idea, but they couldn’t prove anything. In the past, Vincent had made sure of that because they reported to his – no. No. Nothing happened. Don’t think in that direction.

There was one problem with this perfect plan, and its name was Chidi. He had absolutely no desire nor ability to forget Chidi. And it was Chidi who carried his broken body out of that bloodbath, it was Chidi who held him together in the weeks afterwards. It was Chidi who stood up for him at the coronation, and then swayed with him in an empty side room, leading him with unexpectedly graceful steps and an exhilarating hand pressed to his waist. Chidi was inextricably tied to everything that had happened to him, everything he had suffered, lacing every poisoned memory with something too sweet to spit out. Chidi had seen all of it, dealt with all of it, and now he haunted Vincent, reminding him of every moment. Vincent found that it was becoming difficult even to look at his bodyguard. A mixture of shame and hope and…something hung over Chidi, making him unbearably beautiful.

So, when they arrived at the precious Il Palazzo, Vincent assigned him a room on the lower floor, not adjacent to his own. It was much finer than the servant quarters. It was the finest of any room in the house except Vincent’s, in fact. But they absolutely had to sleep separately. He was not a child, nor was he a lover. What was acceptable in grief was no longer acceptable once one was done grieving. And Vincent was done grieving, thank you very much. He could sleep very well on his own, and he would need his privacy. Chidi made no protest.

Thus it began. Forcing his eyes to close in an unfriendly darkness. Waking up in cold sweats at three AM until he learned to fear sleep more than exhaustion. Sobbing with his face buried in a pillow so that no one would hear him and force him to admit that yes, things were different now. That he could no longer take being alone. Each morning dawned in pure, golden relief, spent gasping until the remnants of tears had cleared out of his breathing, and then meeting Chidi with a stately nod at his bedroom door. Chidi must know, by the way he waited there earlier and earlier each time, but he said nothing.

There was, of course, an alternative to this torture. He could go to bed with someone. Not Chidi, no, that would reopen too much, but…someone.

It was just three days after their arrival in Rome when Vincent dismissed Chidi for the first time. “Je sors avec les autres gardes ce soir. Prenez du temps libre. [I’m going out with the other guards this evening. Take some time off.]“ He said it casually, the way that one might casually toss a grenade into the center of a crowded room. They were seated at either side of a little round tea table for an afternoon snack. Chidi stood up and stared at him, breathing hard. Vincent raised an eyebrow. “Avons-nous un problème? [Do we have a problem?]”

He promptly sat down again. “Non.”

“Bien. [Good.]”

That night, Chidi had already gone to his own bedroom when Vincent returned with a man on his arm. But the door was cracked open, and Vincent could feel eyes on him as he passed, prickling his skin with visceral guilt. Well, to hell with that. He would not be guilted for doing what he had to do to get a moment of peace. No matter whether he pictured Chidi alone in that downstairs bedroom, unhappy. Probably very unhappy…

The night passed without troubled dreams – in fact, it passed almost entirely sleepless. And in the morning, Chidi was waiting for him at the door, the same as ever. His co-conspirator must have passed Chidi on the way out in the early hours. They didn’t speak a word about it.

And they didn’t speak a word about it the next time, or the time after that. It became Vincent’s habit to ensure that he did not sleep alone two nights in a row – which was to say, it became Vincent’s habit not to sleep more than two nights in a row. It was a perfect system, really. A liaison kept the nightmares away for a night. Drugs kept him upright and free of shame over the course of the day following a liaison. And by the time he passed out from exhaustion the next night, he was too tired to dream. As long as he didn’t look at Chidi, he didn’t have to feel bad about any of it, which was perfect, because he was trying not to look at Chidi anyway. What could go wrong?

Best of all, the whole cycle numbed him just enough to maintain things with Santino. The relationship had become…draining. A series of encounters that he had to get through by being drunk or high or teasing Santino to vent his own resentment. But the connection made sense politically. Vincent wracked his brain for a real reason to break up, and he couldn’t justify it. He definitely couldn’t deal with the fallout that would ensue if Santino decided to throw a fit about the breakup, not right now. It could ruin things with Gianna, and that was going so well.

Santi, for his part, was only too glad to have Vincent back in the city, and to restock his drug supplies whenever he wanted. He made excuses to stay in Rome until winter. The D’Antonio family was already making plans for how they would spend Christmas together. Again, the only hitch was Chidi.

“Pourquoi ne vous débarrassez-vous pas de votre garde du corps stupide? [Why don’t you get rid of that brainless bodyguard of yours?]” Santino would say, while eyeing him across the room and grimacing. Normally, Vincent tried to see him when Chidi wasn’t on shift, but Santino had an infuriating habit of showing up unexpectedly. And every time the two were in the same room, some variation of this conversation played out. “Il ressemble à un gros bœuf stupide. Je peux t'en trouver un meilleur. Quelqu'un de pointu. Vous savez à quel point Ares est efficace... [He looks like a big, stupid ox. I can find you a better one. Someone sharp. You know how effective Ares - ]”

“Je suis très bien fourni en gardes du corps, merci. [I’m very well supplied with bodyguards, thank you.]” But he never seemed to drop the subject for good. It was like Chidi was getting into everything, changing every aspect of his life, haunting his thoughts throughout every one-night-stand. No matter how he tried to act like he didn’t care, no matter how he tried to compartmentalize him, there was Chidi again.

What bothered him most of all was that Chidi seemed to have no trouble getting a life of his own. He was settling into his role as head of the Myrmidons admirably. In the evenings, when Vincent allowed himself the agonizing ecstasy of an hour in undivided company with Chidi, he learned that Chidi was exploring Rome by himself and finding it very much to his liking. He had even discovered a favorite restaurant in a historic building downtown. Would Vincent like to go there together sometime? He seemed to be testing the waters. Vincent couldn’t resist saying yes. Despite his best efforts to exclude Chidi, he couldn’t bear the thought of Chidi having a favorite place that didn’t include him. It was very confusing.

Apparently, the other Myrmidons sometimes accompanied him on his walks through the city. One of the maids, too. Chidi was friends with them now. Everybody liked him, because of course they did. He was so gentle in his brutishness, so playful and yet so steadying, so infectious when he laughed. And on top of that, just look at him. Vincent did, and felt physically burned by the way his shoulders strained with muscle under his blazer, the way that beard cut knife-sharp along his jaw. As usual, he had to look away.

The next day, Vincent watched him with this maid. He felt burned then too. The way her shining, brunette curls bounced when she nodded at something Chidi said, glowing with smiles. Did Chidi feel burned when he looked at her? When he looked at Vincent? Had Chidi ever felt this way, about anyone? Had anyone in the world ever felt this way about anyone else, or was Vincent being tortured in some cruel and usual manner peculiar to god’s least favorites? He was in flames. He was dying. He must be.

That night, he got very high indeed.

He went to Santino, because damn it, if Chidi was going to go to the maid when he was lonely, then Vincent was going to go to Santino.

A line. Santino’s finger running over a wine glass as he stared out at the river at dinner, interrupting sparkling candlelight. A line. That sparkling transformed into flashing on a club floor. A line. Their bodies pressed together in the back of a limo. A line. Santino’s words spilling into his mouth between kisses. “Sapevo che mi volevi, mio ​​caro. Sapevo che saresti venuto da me da solo uno di questi giorni. Hai finalmente finito di farmi implorare? [I knew you wanted me, mio caro. I knew you’d come to me on your own one of these days. Are you finally done making me beg?]”

Disgust twisting in the pit of his body. “No. Prega più forte. [No. Beg harder.]” Say that you desire me. That I’m worth something…that no one could resist me… Santino whined and started humping into the leather seat with Vincent still buried in his ass.

“Per favore, mio ​​amore. Per favore. Fammi sentire bene. Non so come fai... aaaa... devi essere una specie di diavolo. La mia tentazione. Non sei nemmeno umano. [Please, mon amour. Please. Make me feel good. I don’t know how you do it…aaaa…you must be some kind of devil. My temptation. You’re not even human.]”

“Ovviamente non lo sai. Non mi conosci affatto. [Of course you don’t know. You don’t know me at all.]” It just slipped out. Santino didn’t seem to notice.

But he noticed when Vincent went soft and retreated into the seat away from him.

“Dove-cosa...? Dove sei andato? [Where-what…? Where’d you go?]”

“Ferma la macchina. [Stop the car.]”

“Che – [What the – ]“

“Sei sordo e del tutto inosservante? Ho detto di fermare la macchina. Ho avuto tutto ciò che volevo. [Are you deaf as well as completely unobservant? I said stop the car. I’ve had all I wanted.]”

Santino’s face went from confused to livid. “No! Verrai a casa con me stasera. Hai accettato. [No! You’re coming home with me tonight. You agreed.]”

“Davvero Santino? Sei quel tipo di uomo? [Really, Santino? Are you that kind of man?]” He rolled his eyes disdainfully, but his heart had started doing something utterly sickening. Was Santino that kind of man? His hand closed on the handle of the knife in his back pocket.

“Non ti toccherò. [I won’t touch you],” Santino said very graciously, despite caressing the air just above his cheek in a gesture so close to touching that it might as well have been. “Ma avevi promesso di venire. Ti terrò finché non ti renderai conto di quanto ti piaccio. [But you promised to come. I’m going to keep you until you realize how much you like me.]” His face hovered inches from Vincent’s. How did this escalate so fast? Only minutes ago, it seemed, he was sober, having dinner and planning to go home soon…

Don’t panic. He wished Chidi were here. How could he get back to Chidi? What could he do? His bodyguards were following behind them in another car. They’d know if he went missing. And they’d notice if he jumped from the vehicle. His eyes flickered from Santino’s too-close lips to the door handle. Santino caught the look and covered the lock with his hand, grinning. “Non mi sfuggirai, Vincent. Finalmente, dopo mesi, sei venuto da me volentieri. Non a un pranzo con me e mia sorella, non a una cena per cui ho dovuto implorare. Sei venuto da me, da solo, perché stai iniziando a vederlo anche tu. E non ti permetterò di buttarlo via solo perché a volte ti confondi. Apparteniamo insieme. Quella guardia del corpo ti sta dando fastidio, ma io... [You’re not getting away from me, Vincent. Finally, after months, you’ve come to me willingly. Not at some lunch with both me and my sister, not at some dinner I had to plead for. You came to me, all on your own, because you’re starting to see it too. And I won’t let you throw that away just because you get confused sometimes. We belong together. That bodyguard is messing with your head but I’ll - ]”

The blade plunged into the center of Santino’s hand. It was so satisfying that Vincent had to take a moment to enjoy the look on his face. “Oh, sei sorpreso di essere stato pugnalato dopo un discorso del genere? Hahahaha, malato di merda! Non appartengo a te! [Oh, you’re surprised you got stabbed after a speech like that? Hahahaha, you sick fuck! I do not BELONG with you!]” It was already too late – he might as well unleash everything. “Sai perché sono venuto qui stasera? Perché sei il fondo del barile, la persona che vedo quando ho voglia di sguazzare. Ti ho sedotto solo nel caso in cui tu uccidessi tua sorella più tardi, e sai una cosa? Spero che tu ci provi, e spero che lei ti uccida prima. Ti odio a morte, questa è la verità. Ovviamente devi ricorrere al rapimento solo per la più piccola speranza di ricevere il più piccolo briciolo di attenzione, patetico e disperato succhiacazzi. Risparmiati la fatica e non cercarmi più [You know why I came here tonight? Because you’re the bottom of the barrel, the person I see when I feel like wallowing. I only ever seduced you in case you kill your sister later, and you know what? I hope you try, and I hope she kills you first. I hate your guts, that’s the truth. Of course you have to resort to kidnapping just for the smallest hope of the smallest scrap of attention, you pathetic, desperate cock sucker. Save yourself the trouble and don’t look for me again.]” And with a spray of crimson trialing behind, he wrenched himself and the knife out into the battering midnight wind.

It hurt…a lot more than he was expecting. His shoulder made impact first. The purple-black of the city sky rolled over and over itself as he tumbled across cobblestones. There was tearing fabric, rocks driving into his flesh, a sharp impact against the back of his skull. In the distance, he could hear screeching tires. Was it one or both cars that turned back for him? But he blacked out before he could learn the answer.

He woke up in motion. A familiar scent. Someone’s arms underneath him. “Move. Don’t stand there, get a doctor.”

“Chidi…?” He curled closer against his chest. They were going up a flight of stairs, it seemed.

“C'est moi. Vous allez bien, monsieur. Vous êtes à la maison. [It’s me. You’re okay, sir. You’re home.]”

Splitting pain down the center of his head. “Je ne… je ne ressens pas… [I don’t…I don’t feel…]”

“Vous avez une commotion cérébrale. Mais tout ira bien. Tu étais si courageux. Ils m'ont dit – [You have a concussion. But everything will be alright. You were so brave. They told me – ]“ Chidi cut himself off, seemingly overcome. “De toute façon. Je vais te déposer maintenant, au lit. Est-ce que ça va? [Anyway. I’m going to set you down now, in bed. Is that okay?]”

Vincent realized he was shaking. “N'allez nulle part. [Don’t go anywhere.]”

“Je ne le ferai pas. [I won’t.]” He was laid very gently onto soft sheets. His shoes and tie were pulled away, the blanket tucked up to his chin. Everything was so warm, so bright…his head was still cradled in Chidi’s arms. Finally, Chidi was in his bedroom again, and everything seemed fixed. The change from the past few days was so enormous that Vincent couldn’t understand why he hadn’t done this sooner.

“Chidi?”

“Oui?”

“Je déteste Santino. [I hate Santino.]”

That gorgeous jaw set tight. “Il t'a fait du mal? [Did he hurt you?]”

“Non, heureusement non. Il a juste essayé de me kidnapper. [No, fortunately not. He just tried to kidnap me.]” Vincent scoffed. “C’est de ma faute, j’ai renvoyé mes gardes du corps, donc j’ai dû sauter – [It’s my fault, I sent my bodyguards away, so I had to jump – ]”

“Ce n'est PAS votre faute. [It is NOT your fault.]” Chidi pressed a kiss against his pounding head. “Cet homme est une petite fouine dégoûtante. Je ne le laisserai plus jamais toucher à toi. [That man is a disgusting little weasel. I will never let him lay a finger on you again.]”

Vincent smiled, savoring the way the warmth spread from the spot his lover’s lips had touched. “Merci.” He studied Chidi’s face. Worry lines at the corner of his mouth and eyes stood out prominently. There was the burning thing, flaring up in his chest at the sight of Chidi’s face. The guilt, the shame. The terrifying magnetism. “…Que vous ont dit les gardes? […How much did the guards tell you?]”

“Que veux-tu dire? [What do you mean?]”

They didn’t tell him anything, then. This was going to be incredibly difficult. Vincent tried one more time. “Vous ont-ils dit ce que je faisais avant de quitter le club ? Vous ont-ils dit… dans quel état je me trouve? [Did they tell you what I was doing before we left the club? Did they tell you…the state that I am in?]”

“Ils feraient mieux de ne rien me cacher. [They had better not have kept anything from me.]”

“Je leur ai fait jurer de ne rien te dire. [I made them swear not to tell you.]” He stared at the far corner of the blanket for a minute, trying to muster the courage. Instead, he found himself deciding maybe not. Maybe it was better Chidi didn’t know. If he quit, then who would ever have to tell Chidi? Nobody, right?

But Chidi saved him the trouble. “Que prenez-vous, monsieur? [What are you taking, sir?]”

Infinite silence, still staring into the corner. “Cocaïne.” He waited for disappointment, for crushing sympathy, already preemptively irritated by both.

“Comment ça a commencé? [How did it start?]”

“…Santino. Quand je suis arrivé ici seul pour la première fois. […Santino. When I first came out here alone.]”

“Je vois. [I see.]” Vincent could almost feel that information being filed for later. “Voulez-vous arrêter? [Do you want to stop?]”

“Non. Oui. Je ne sais pas. [No. Yes. I don’t know.]”

“Eh bien… c'est mon travail de protéger votre santé, monsieur. Je ne ferais pas mon travail si je te laissais continuer. [Well…it’s my job to protect your health, sir. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I let you continue.]”

“Et si c’était la seule chose qui me garde sain d’esprit, hmm ? J'ai besoin… [What if it’s the only thing that’s keeping me sane, hmm? I need…]” Fuck, he was going to cry if they kept on with this discussion. “Et si ça me maintenait en vie ? N'est-ce pas important pour ma santé ? Je serai trop fatigué sans ça, et puis je dormirai, et puis je… je ne peux pas… je ne peux pas… [What if it’s keeping me alive? Isn’t that important for my health? I’ll be too tired without it, and then I’ll sleep, and then I’ll…I can’t…I can’t…]” At some point he had started hyperventilating and couldn’t stop.

Chidi took his hand and kissed it, looking deeply pained on his behalf. “Monsieur. Je veux t'aider avec les cauchemars. Avec le chagrin. Tout cela. Chaque jour, je te vois souffrir alors que tout le monde s’attend à ce que tu ailles bien. C’est impossible, vu la pression que vous subissez, d’essayer de revenir instantanément à la normale. Sachez que vous n’êtes pas obligé de le faire seul. [Sir. I want to help you with the nightmares. With the grief. All of it. Every day, I see you hurting when everyone else expects you to be fine. It’s impossible, the amount of pressure you’re under, trying to go back to normal instantly. Please know that you don’t have to do this alone.]”

“N'êtes-vous pas trop occupé avec la femme de chambre? [Aren’t you too busy with the maid?]” Vincent wished he could take back the words but they were already out, and now he would have to hear the answer, hear Chidi lie or get angry or pity him or -

“Comme si quelqu’un pouvait être plus important pour moi que toi. Vous êtes ma vie, Maître Vincent. J'ai donné ma vie pour la tienne volontairement, tu te souviens ? J'étais prêt à être exécuté. Et je reste prêt. Je vous attends. Je n’ai touché personne d’autre, et je ne le ferai pas, peu importe le nombre de personnes que vous coucherez. Faites ce que vous devez faire, monsieur. Je veux juste être là pour toi. Même quand les choses vont mieux. Quand tu n’as plus mal… et je ferai en sorte que ce jour vienne… quand tu n’as plus mal, je veux toujours être à côté de toi. Pas besoin d’être malade pour dormir à mes côtés, Vincent. Si tu me veux, c'est tout ce qu'il faut. Je viendrai à toi. Peut-être que tu ne ressens pas la même chose, mais je t’aime et je le ferai toujours. [As if anyone could be more important to me than you. You are my life, Master Vincent. I gave my life for yours willingly, remember? I was ready to be executed. And I remain ready. I wait for you. I haven’t touched anyone else, and I won’t, no matter how many people you take to bed. You do what you need to do, sir. I just want to be there for you. Even when things are better. When you’re not in pain anymore…and I’ll make sure that day comes…when you’re not in pain anymore, I still want to be next to you. You don’t need to be unwell to sleep beside me, Vincent. If you want me, that’s all it takes. I will come to you. Maybe you don’t feel the same way, but I love you, and I always will.]”

Maybe it was the dawn finally starting to rise, but the world shone gold at all the edges. Like it was cracking, and sunlight was seeping in. It bled around the curtains, onto the bed, onto their joined hands. But Vincent’s eyes were too well adjusted to the darkness. He didn’t know what to do. Barely even knew how to talk around the lump in his throat. Say it back. I love you too. I love you too. I love you too. “Je ne savais pas… Je ne savais pas que tu pouvais parler de cette façon, Chidi. [I didn’t know…I didn’t know that you could talk this way, Chidi.]”

“Ce n’est pas une conversation, monsieur. Je t'aime. [It’s not talk, sir. I love you.]”

I love you too. “Allonge-toi à côté de moi. [Lay next to me.]” I love you too. “Jusqu'à ce que le médecin arrive. [Until the doctor gets here.]” I love you too. “Je ne veux pas que tu ailles n'importe où. [I don’t want you to go anywhere.]”

And Chidi slipped into the bed beside him, embracing Vincent skin to skin, arms securely around his waist, sighing contentedly against his neck… not asking him to say a thing. “Je sais. [I know.]”

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[jasmineandcedar]

"His head went quiet."

[Second Solstice] “It's beautiful," she [Elain] whispered, lifting it from the box. The golden faelight shone through the little glass facets, setting the charm glowing with hues of red and pink and white. Azriel let his shadows whisk away the box as she said softly, "Put it on me?" His head went quiet. But he took the necklace, opening the clasp as she exposed her back, sweeping her hair up in one hand to bare her long, creamy neck [Azriel's BC).

When I read that Azriel’s head went quiet in the bonus chapter, I often think of it in a wider and perhaps more symbolic sense. As in, Elain gives him peace and quiet. He relaxes with her in the garden, sunning his wings. His shadows vanish in her presence (here’s a post I wrote dissecting my perception of the meaning of this). His soft and gentle side comes out around her (meaning he has no need to be stone-faced and guarded, as he usually is). However, I also believe the peace and quiet she gave him in that precise moment is also very specific and contextual.

What had been plaguing his mind leading up to their moment during Solstice night?

[Second Solstice] Sleep, they [his shadows] seemed to whisper in his ear. Sleep. I wish I could, he answered silently. But sleep so rarely found him these days. Too many razor-sharp thoughts sliced him any time he grew still long enough for them to strike. Too many wants and needs left his skin overheated and pulling taut across his bones. So he slept only when his body gave out, and even then only for a few hours (Azriel’s BC).

“Razor-sharp thoughts” and “wants and needs”. These words give meaning to Azriel's actions in ACOSF. All throughout ACOSF, we see Azriel distressed and clearly not OK, because of his feelings for Elain. Even to the point that Cassian (who, let’s be honest, is not the most observant) notices.

[Azriel telling Cassian Nesta and Cassian are wanted at the river house] “You and Nesta are wanted down there.” “Because of the shit with Elain?” Azriel stilled. “What happened to Elain?” Cassian waved a hand. “A fight with Nesta. Don’t bring it up,” he warned when Azriel’s eyes darkened. Cassian blew out a breath. “I take that as a no regarding the meeting topic, then.” “It’s about what I discovered. Rhys said he requires you both there.” “It’s bad, then.” Cassian surveyed the shadows gathered around Az. “You all right?” His brother nodded. “Fine.” But shadows still swarmed him. Cassian knew it was a lie, but didn’t push it. Az would speak when he was ready, and Cassian would have better success convincing a mountain to move than getting Az to open up. (ACOSF)

[Cassian asking Azriel if he wants kids] Cassian looked over at Az. “You think you’ll ever be ready for one?” Ever be ready to confess to Mor what’s in your heart? “I don’t know,” Azriel said. “Do you want a child?” “It doesn’t matter what I want.” Distant words—ones that prevented Cassian from prying further. He was still happy to be Mor’s buffer with Azriel, but there’d been a change lately. In both of them. Mor no longer sat beside Cassian, draped herself over him, and Azriel … those longing glances toward her had become few and far between. As if he’d given up. After five hundred years, he’d somehow given up. Cassian couldn’t think why. (ACOSF)

[Azriel, Cassian, and Nesta training] Nesta’s stare seared him from across the ring. Cassian might have flexed his stomach muscles as he approached the chalk-lined circle. Az shook his head and muttered, “Pathetic, Cass.” Cassian winked, nodding to his brother’s equally muscled stomach. “Where have you been exercising these days?” “Here,” Azriel said. “At night.” After he returned from spying on their enemies. “Can’t sleep?” Cassian took up a fighting stance. A shadow curled around Azriel’s neck, the only one brave enough to face the sunlight. “Something like that,” he said, and settled into his own stance across from Cassian. Cassian let it drop, knowing Az would have told him already if he’d wanted to share what had been hounding him enough to exercise at night, rather than in the morning with them (ACOSF).

Clearly, Azriel’s head has been nothing but quiet all throughout ACOSF. But during Solstice night, with Elain, it went quiet. What happened before his head went quiet? It's reasonable to assume that what preceded his head going quiet is what caused it. So, what was that?

[Second Solstice] “It's beautiful," she whispered, lifting it from the box. The golden faelight shone through the little glass facets, setting the charm glowing with hues of red and pink and white. Azriel let his shadows whisk away the box as she said softly, "Put it on me?" His head went quiet. But he took the necklace, opening the clasp as she exposed her back, sweeping her hair up in one hand to bare her long, creamy neck (Azriel's BC).

“Put it on me?” Elain asked, and Azriel’s head went quiet. Why? What is it to put a necklace on someone? It is to act.

Up until the necklace, Azriel knew Elain was aware of his feelings for her, and why he hesitates to act on them.

[Second Solstice] He [Azriel] left the rest unspoken. Because her mate was here, sleeping a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn't stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option of leaving if it became too much. Elain's large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that. Just as he knew she was well aware of why Azriel so rarely came to family dinners these days. (Azriel’s BC)

So, Azriel knows they have feelings for each other that they both are aware of. They have shared glances and brushing of fingers.

[Second Solstice] It had never gone this far. They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching (Azriel’s BC).

What is missing, for those feelings to be more than mutual feelings, is action. What Azriel doesn't know (I think) is if Elain would be ready to act on those feelings, beyond the occasional brush of their fingers and a lingering glance here and there. I am doubtful he had expected Elain to be willing to act on it that Solstice night, and I am convinced he had never felt entitled to it. Why do I think this? Because he never planned for a future with her in it beside him.

[When Rhys confronts Azriel during Solstice night] "So you'll what?" Rhys's voice was pure ice. "Seduce her away from him?” Azriel said nothing. He hadn't gotten that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to (Azriel's BC).

Why had he not allowed himself to plan beyond his fantasies? Because he didn’t feel entitled to a future with her. Why do I say that? Think about what planning is. It is imagining a future you want and how to get there. If he didn’t expect Elain to be ready to act on their mutual feelings, it makes sense he had no hope of a future with her, because he is not entitled to a future with her that she doesn’t consent to.

Think of what kind of person Azriel is. And then think of the circumstances required for him to imagine a future he wants with Elain, and to imagine how to get there (= planning). Azriel is a guy who is seemingly intent on consent and not pushing himself on, especially, women. Look at how he acts with the priestesses in ACOSF. And with Elain, he extends a hand, an arm and so on (an offer). But not only that. He extends a hand, an arm, after having asked her (offer and permission).

[Azriel has just flown Elain to the town house] Azriel smiled faintly. “Would you like me to show you the garden?” She seemed so small before him, so fragile compared to the scales of his fighting leathers, the breadth of his shoulders. The wings peeking over them. But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded—just once. Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “Beautiful.” (ACOWAR)

[Feyre offering to take Elain to the garden] I dragged a hand over my face before going to Elain and touching her too-bony shoulder. “Can I set you up in the garden? The herbs you planted are coming in nicely.” “I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand. Nesta monitored him like a hawk, but kept silent as Elain took his hand, and out they went. (ACOWAR)

So, when Elain said, “put it on me?” I think it meant to Azriel that Elain showed him she was willing to act on their mutual feeling. It is an explicit expression of consent for him to act (offer and permission). Then, he “nearly groans with relief and need” when she allows him to put the necklace on her, urges him to touch her, and gives him her consent to kiss her (offer and permission). What is he relieved about? That she is willing to act. She confirms not only that she feels the same, but that she is even braver than him and ready to act. Even with her mate upstairs.

If Elain is willing to act, there is a possibility of a future. It opens the door towards a future with her that he could imagine, and if he can imagine a future with her, he can imagine how they’d get there. That is what it means to plan. Something he couldn't have allowed himself to do before "put it on me?" and all that followed in that interaction (with Elain leading it).

Look at what happens after he learns Elain is willing to act. He is questioning the Cauldron itself openly for the first time, with Rhys. I see it as the first seeds towards a bigger plan.

[Rhys confronts Azriel during Solstice night] Azriel stiffened. Let his cold rage rise to the surface, the rage he only ever let Rhysand see, because he knew his brother could match it. "What if the Cauldron was wrong?" Rhysand blinked. "What of Mor, Az?" Azriel ignored the question. "The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another." He had never before dared speak the words aloud (Azriel’s BC).

Consider Azriel’s nature. He is not impulsive. He works in the background. Waiting for the right moment to act is not only a cornerstone of his job, but of his personality, as evident in his assertion that spying suits him precisely because of that. He is not careful and prudent because he is Spymaster, he is Spymaster because he is careful and prudent.

[Training with Nesta and Cassian] “Right,” Cassian panted through gritted teeth as he blocked Az’s kick and bounced a step back, circling again. “Whoever lands the next blow wins.” “That’s ridiculous,” Az panted back. “We go until one of us eats dirt.” Az had a vicious competitive streak. It wasn’t boastful and arrogant, the way Cassian knew he himself was prone to be, or possessive and terrifying like Amren’s. No, it was quiet and cruel and utterly lethal. Cassian had lost track of how many games they’d played over the centuries, with one of them certain of a win, only for Az to reveal some master strategy. Or how many games had been reduced to only Rhys and Az left standing, battling it out over cards or chess until the middle of the night, when Cassian and Mor had given up and started drinking (ACOSF).

[Cassian and Azriel on the lookout] “Four fucking days,” Cassian hissed from where he and Azriel monitored the castle. “We’ve been sitting on our asses for four fucking days.” Azriel sharpened Truth-Teller. The black blade absorbed the dim sunlight trickling through the forest canopy above. “It seems you’ve forgotten how much of spying is waiting for the right moment. People don’t engage in their evil deeds when it’s convenient to you.” Cassian rolled his eyes. “I stopped spying because it bored me to death. I don’t know how you put up with this all the time." “It suits me.” Azriel didn’t halt his sharpening, though shadows gathered around his feet (ACOSF).

When Azriel says “this was a mistake” about the almost-kiss, and “tonight had proved he 'd been right to do so” (Azriel's BC) about staying away from Elain, it is obviously not an expression of rejection. He didn't suddenly change his mind about Elain. He is questioning his impulsivity and recklessness. Because, as much as I, for entirely self-interested reasons, wish Rhys didn’t interrupt them, making out downstairs during Solstice (and whatever that might have led to) was quite reckless and impulsive. Clearly, none of them had planned to do that.

Azriel achieves his goals not through impulsivity and brute force, but through careful consideration and strategizing. I think that, since Elain said “put it on me?”, he has perhaps been cooking up some "master strategy" to make them happen (I, too, don't think it was a coincidence he was present to find out the Cauldron had, in fact, been tampered with, in HOFAS). He got her explicit consent, and a minute later he is questioning his religion in front of his High Lord. I think there might be some miscommunication initially in Elain’s book, given how Elain probably doesn’t know Rhys is the reason Azriel decided not to follow through with the kiss. And I think Azriel definitely will struggle with his feelings of not being worthy.

But then, I think we’ll be privy to some master strategizing on their part, challenging not only Rhys but fate itself.

[faghubby]

Fishing trip

I was looking forward to this trip for months. The four of us had rented this cabin. Well not sure you can call it a cabin. Four bedroom two floor, huge porch, balcony over looking a pool. Set on a hill over looking a lake. We had use of a fishing boat. And ATVs not to mention the streams and river near by. The weather was going to be perfect. I was packed and set to leave. When tragedy struck. The deal I had been working on, my huge bonus to close the deal. Went sideways I could fix this but it meant a trip to Cincinnati.

I called Walt, Pete and George and broke the news. Maybe I could meet them later in the week. After some teasing on how at least I wouldn't scare the fish they all understood and hoped to meet me there.

Phoebe , my wife of 15 years. drove me to the airport the next morning, she had already planned on me being away. Where I went didn't really matter. I was kinda complaining about missing the trip the money already spent.

"Maybe I will go so it's not a waste" Phoebe told me. She hated fishing.

"And do what?" I said knowing she was just trying to make me feel better.

"Sit by the pool, kyack, walks in the wood" she told me. As I kissed her goodbye. My flight being called.

"Go then have fun with three guys who smell like fish" I said jokingly.

"Okay I will" she told me in defiance of my joking. I didn't think about it again. Till I had already landed met with the clients lawyers and checked into my hotel. When I read a text.

"Cells are spotty at the lake, George is driving me" the text read as she showed me a pic of her loading her stuff in his SUV. I called her they where still on the road.

"Hello sweety, you're on speaker " she sang.

"You really are going fishing" I laughed.

"She promised to cook, buddy" I heard Walt say. They where driving up together. Pete was going to meet them there. After a brief conversation of their plans she took me off speaker.

"Hurry up if you can, miss you already" Pheobe told me and hung up.

I spent the next three days talking them out of walking away from the contract. And two more writing changes to a new one.

Phoebe

We arrived at the cabin after midnight. I was still wide awake from too much coffee or general curiosity. Went exploring. The guys gave me the master bedroom saying I should have the private bathroom. I went to shower and couldn't figure out how the shower worked. It was one of those showers with all kinds of different showerheads. I went to the bedroom door.

"Hey guys, can someone help me" I called out Walt appeared.

"Um I can't figure out the shower" I said fully aware I stood in front of him in nothing but a towel. Walt ever the perfect gentleman. Went to investigate. He gave me a quick explanation. But as he went to leave he paused for a brief moment. It was nothing.

"What?" I asked.

"Sorry never knew you had a tattoo" he said excusing himself.

"OH, here it goes up" I raised my towel to show him the tattoo on my thigh of a dragon and unicorn some thought they where locked in an epic battle. I thought of it as both sides of my personality. But as I did my towel slipped and exposed my breasts.

"Sorry, I should" Walt said. I grabbed his shoulder to steady myself as I grasped the towel. He took it differently. He turned and pulled me into his arms. I should of pushed him away. I wanted to.

But I looked up into his deep brown eyes, he was a very handsome man. White hair sprinkled in his beard. Contrast to his ebony bald head. His body hard from a life time of hard work. He stood alot taller then Paul. I let the towel fall. His huge hands grasped my breasts. My c cups still not big enough to fill them. He kissed me. Then stopped

"Nothing has happened yet" he told me. I jumped into his arms and he carried me to the bed. I watched as he shed his clothes. His cock. My God I had never. It jutted out from his body, Paul's always pointed up. But I think the sheer size of Walt didn't allow that. He must be twice my husband I thought. As he climbed on top of me.

"Go slow, you are so much bigger" I pleaded. Despite his strength he was gentle and carresed my body. He didn't fuck me he made love to me. I came twice. Loudly as he did. We laid there in the afterglow. I admired his tattoos.

"I love my husband" I shared.

"Paul is great. Let's just call this a fling" he told me. As he held me tight I fell asleep. I woke and took that shower finally. It was already 10am the guys where gone. I figured out early.

I put on a bikini and laid out by the pool. It was mid afternoon, when I put down my book. Romance smut I thought after reading a well description of sex. I thought about Walt. I was alone the sun warming me. My fingers slid under my suit and I was soon rubbing my clit. Suddenly I opened my eyes to see Pete standing there watching me.

"Pete, I " I turned beet red. He sat at my feet. He rubbed my feet

"Don't stop on my account" he smiled. I couldn't I mean I had fucked Walt last night. I thought back to a time in collage when I had allowed 5 guys to gang bangs me. I pulled my bottom down exposing myself and started to masterbate. I felt Pete kiss my thigh higher and higher. Soon he pulled off my bikini and was sucking my clit. I wanted him I pulled his hair pulling him on top of me. He smelled of sweat and push. As I tried to tear his clothes off of him. Pete took his time. He liked to tease me. Get me close then stop. He even worked two fingers in my ass. He offered me his cock to suck. As much as he teased me it was like a present. I sucked it down my throat, he wasnt hss big and think as Walt but still bigger then Paul. But before he came he pulled out. And slid it into my very wet cunt. It didn't take long for me to dig my nails into his back as we came together. I didn't want to let him go but we heard the ATVs co,ING back. I jumped in the pool and fixed my suit as Pete vanished into the house.

In less then 24 hours I had fucked two of my husband's friends and cum more then I had in a year. I knew Pete was married. His wife and I friends but I hadn't cared. Later that night I sought out George.

George was funny, probably Paul's best friend. I found him in the hot tub.

"I am sure Walt and Pete" I said.

"Well Pete has a big mouth" George said. I looked at him and removed my robe. I was naked as I got in the hot tub.

"You are a nasty little mink" he told me. He pulled me onto his lap.

"Have you and Cindy ever talked about" he asked me. He pinched my nipples. Cindy was his long term girlfriend. They had been together for years.

"No" I moaned. He pushed me up and bent me over the edge of the hot tub. Without warning he drove his cock balls deep into my pussy. He fucked me like a man just out of prison. He pulled out and spun me just to cum on my face. Then shoved his cock innmy mouth. As I sucked him hard again.

"I am going to take that ass" he told me. As soon as he was hard he pulled out and bent me over again.

"Please some lube" I begged. He squirted something on my ass and again drive his cock in balls deep. I was in tears as he fucked my ass. Whatever he used was no longer lubricating but he didn't slow. Petre came all over my ass. He didn't even let me rinse off instead marched me naked back into the house.

"You are the cabin slut for the weekend, I don't want to see you even wearing clothes" he told me both Pete and Walt where in the room.

Pete, George and Walt although all friends where very different. Although I abided by George' s rule of no clothes. Other then when we went into town. And then I wore a sundress, no bra or panties. I had some kind of sexual experience with each of them. Everyday. Walt gentle and kind. George forceful and dirty , while Pete was funny and playful. By Wednesday night Pete and George even split roasted me on the balcony.

Thursday I sucked Walt's huge cock. Proud I had managed to take it all before they headed to the lake. When a car pulled up.

I glanced out the window to see Paul pulling up. I rushed upstairs and jumped in the shower.

Paul

I finished up in Ohio and rushed to the lake. I would still get in a long weekend. As I entered the cabin I heard the shower, the guys must be on the lake I was right I found Phoebe in the shower. I joined her. She kissed me surprised to to see me. Fishing could wait . I took her to bed.

"Paul, I have to tell you" she stopped me. "I don't know exactly how it happened but I slept with The guys" she confessed, I was stunned.

"What? Who?" I stuttered

"All three of them. I had to tell you.i am sorry" Phoebe cried.

"At the same time" I asked but I was kissing and pawing at her. I was so turned on by her being a slut.

"Paul?" Phoebe asked as she grasped the stiffest hard on I have had since I was 15. "You're not mad" she stroked me.

"Tell me about it" I begged. She stopped me pushing me back.

"I was so worried you would leave me" she yelled at him hitting him in the chest. Then she looked me in the eye. "Walt is very big" she held her hands apart to show me. I pinned her down. I wanted her.

"Stop, if it turns you on so much I should just finish the week out ad their slut" Phoebe told me. She reached down and stoked my dick.

"Sit up" she told me. Never letting go of my now leaking penis. I came in her hand.

"Let's go down to the lake" she suggested. I got dressed. But Phoebe only wore sandels and a sheer rap. Like woman wear over thier bathing suit on the beach. We reached the dock and called the boat on the shortwave radio. They headed right in. They took one look at Phoebe. And laughed.

"You okay with your wife dressing like that Paul?"

"Yes, she looks awesome." I replied. Phoebe kissed me.

"Maybe they will let you watch later" she said and smacked my ass.

The four of us spent the day fishing. And Phoebe was the topic of the day. The three of them compared notes, and told stories about the last few days. I was rock hard the whole time. Even sharing a story of my own back when me and Phoebe had first met.

As we got back to the cabin Phoebe was cooking diner. George walked straight up and bent her over the counter. He started to play with her ass.

"George please' She begged handing him a tube of lube. He took it.

"Paul finish dinner don't let it burn" George picked Phoebe up and took her outside on the patio. I could hear them bit not see focusing on not ruining dinner.

"You are really okay with this" Walt smiled

"Yes" was all I could muster.

"Well I guess you get the couch then" Pete laughed. They treated me like a bitch after that. I was the butt of every joke or prank. Not permitted to drink to much since I wasn't man enough. I don't know if it was Phoebe or the guys but she made sure I got a good look at each one of their cocks over the next two days.

Phoebe fucked all of them at least once a day. I got even more turned on. As they teased me.

"Maybe you should ride on the back of thefour wheeler. It might be too much for you to handle" they even made me fish with Phoebe's pink pole I had bought years ago. She never used. But hadbought along for the weekend cause you never know.

Friday night. Phoebe came down stairs sat on couch where I was sleeping. I woke up. She wore her robe.

"You need to come clean, explain this all to me" She said. "You get excited when I fuck your friends, but also when they treat you like a sissy" she told me. I was rock hard and rolled to rub against her.

"Explain first" she told me.

"I don't know, I always loved it when the guys would talk about how hot you where. Made me feel like a million bucks. I had fantasies of you fucking George. I knew what he is like. Way he talks about his conquest. Plus I know I am not very big. And it's hard for you to finish with me,

"I will admit I have had more orgasms this week them in the last 5 years" she told me.

"And you let them have your ass" I moaned. We had never. I had asked her to try it once but she was unsure about it and I let it go.

"Walt took it tonight I don't think it will ever go back." She laughed stood up and showed me her still stretched asshole. I kissed it even running my tounge along the rim. This made Phoebe giggle. She spun and showed me her gapped pussy as well. I went to kiss it too. She pulled back.

"He finished in" she started I grabbed her ass and pulled her back kissing her pussy. My tounge probing the creves. I could definitely taste Walt mixed with her. Phoebe just let me continue.

"It's in there deep" Phoebe reminded me. Soon she was rocking back on forth riding my face. I made her cum she regained her composure.

"Be right back" as she got up and went upstairs. She returned a few minutes later.

"Put these on" she held a peach colored panties, with lace across the ass.

"Phoebe?!" I said surprised

"If you're going to suck men's cum out of my dirty cunt. You are going to wear the proper underwear" she told me. I got up took off my boxers as she slid them up my legs. She rubbed my never ending erection thru the soft material till I came. It didn't take long. Then went back to bed.

I was up first showered and dressed. When Phoebe came down in just her robe and made breakfast. As we ate Phoebe just crawled under the table and sucked Pete's cock. She came up. And kissed me. She hadn't swallowed Pete's load. Instead she fed it to me. Forcing me to swallow it. To laughs from the three of them.

"Last day" she handed me a flower print bikini. "Since you love to eat cum so much you should dress the part on the lake." I felt warm. I couldn't not in public. Not with my friends. Suddenly they where all insisting. I went and changed. The suit was very small barely covering my ass. And I had not tits. I wanted to protest but everyone could see my erection straining against the material.

We went out on the boat. But fishing was done. They had fished for the last 8 days. Today they made sure I got a nice tan. They went and jumped off the cliff into the lake. I wasn't allowed to try I was delicate. And although it pissed me off. It excited me also. So inplayed the part of the unimpressed girl watching them be jerks. But at noon they headed back to the cabin. We surprised Phoebe. They sat me down and I watched as they all fucked her. In every hole. She was covered in there sperm by the time they finished.

"Go clean your slut up" they told me. Phoebe was exhausted and falling asleep as I started to lick and slurp up 6 or was it 7 loads of cum off of her. The guys left us alone. But I didn't want to stop. Phoebe even fell asleep until I sucked two loads out of her cunt

"Sissy, don't forget my ass" is all phoebe said rolling over to give me better access. I let Phoebe sleep. The guys left rather then spend another night. I spent the rest of the day in Phoebe's bikini. When Pheobe woke she gave me another handjob.

"Paul, I am going to at least counting to see Pete. Since he is technically the only one single. And I will have to find some more since I know now you are a total cum fag" Phoebe told me. We left in the morning.on the long drive home. Phoebe made me make a detour to an adult store. Where she made me pick out a strapon along with other toys. After a brief breakdown where I admitted I wanted it. She also had me change right in the parking lot. Into a pair of her panties. She let me choose. Since she hadn't worn any all week.

All I could think about was when was the next fishing trip?

[emeritus-fuckers]

HI I LOVE Y'ALL'S BLOG SO MUCH!!! AAAA

Okay, I'll calm down now. I was wondering if you'd be interested by the idea of a newly summoned ghoul reader struggling to get to grips with their instrument and panicking about not being good enough for tour yet and being comforted by one of the ghouls?

I'm currently struggling to learn bass to get good enough for a band I have a chance to be in and it's really wreaking havoc on my mental health being so confused and getting it wrong over and over and y'all's writing in comfort scenarios always makes me feel better... So I thought I'd shoot my shot!

I hope you're having an amazing day, this blog brightens up my day every time! <3

Water ghouls helping a newly summoned ghoul learn their instrument

Chain (it/ghoul)

Chain is a fucking goofball.

Don't let its big, intimidating form fool you, Chain is a goofy dumbass who can barely keep up a "mysterious" act.

So when you come to ghoul and ask to learn how to play bass, it's delighted to help, all giggly and shit.

Ghoul's not the best teacher, he gets too excited and ahead of ghoulself, teaching you the "cool" riffs becore the easy ones.

It does get bonus points for being patient and hyping you up, though.

And the reward kisses. The reward kisses are nice.

Lake (he/him)

He comes accross very serious and when you ask him and you are pretty nervous.

He nods and gestures for you to follow him. He finds a cozy practice room well out of the way.

Despite his scary front he takes teaching you very seriously and is very supportive.

He's actually a really good teacher and takes time to show you good technique and teach you the songs you need to learn.

He rarely gives out compliments but when he does you know he completely means it.

Also when you get him to smile, either by a joke or playing well or just by being yourself.

You end up getting very close.

River (they/them)

They are a slut about it. A complete whore.

Every single dirty joke they can make while teaching you is made. Everything from fingering it correctly to thrusting with their own bass.

Shockingly, they are still a very good teacher. Only making the dirty jokes as you get closer to mastering each skill.

River definitely sits behind you to guide your hands on new notes and skills, hands on teacher when it’s needed. Only with consent of course.

Will absolutely bring you out for food after practice. They’re a slut but a classy slut. They buy you dinner before trying to get in your pants.

Cowbell (they/it)

It's a bit surprised to be your choice for bass lessons. After all, their only real performance was what landed them a name. And it was just trying to prank Papa.

But, the name stuck and it just couldn't go out of its way to change it, especially when you started to use "Cowie" as a cute little nickname that they just needed to hear every single day of its life.

But, fortunately for you, they just so happen to play bass as well, just like most water ghouls. They were just beginner level, but still.

You two practice together, figuring the instrument out.

It's a lot of fun, both you and Cowbell enjoy it a lot, even if it's a bit frustrating sometimes. At least you get frustrated together, right?

You end up better than it. Somehow, you end up tutoring them, instead of the other way around.

Mist (he/she)

He's thrilled to help out with that. Mist really likes alone time together, especially if you two just chill, enjoying a common hobby.

So she's happy to teach you guitar. Might offer playing Guitar Hero first so you can train your fingers a bit.

The first song you learn how to play is Gorillaz's Feel Good Inc., which is her favorite non-Ghost song. And the bass is very pleasant in the song.

He casually rests against your back, just listening to you play and giving small comments on what you can do better whenever you mess up.

There's this weird feeling of comfort during your practice sessions.

She starts a tickle fight the moment you put the guitar down.

Never let them know your next move type of shit.

Rain (he/she/ve)

He's a bit surprised when you ask, but doesn't see a reason to refuse.

But hey, ve's a good teacher! Really good, actually.

Rain sometimes even organizes classes for ghouls and Siblings who want to play bass.

She first gets you your own bass and lets you customize it with stickers. Not many people know this, but Sodo got the "YouSuck" sticker from her.

He's very patient with you, starting with basic notes and riffs before slowly moving to more complicated stuff.

Somehow, no matter who ve's teaching, her work is always excellent when it comes to teaching.

And he's very sweet with his rewards, if you catch my drift.

Storm (they/he)

They're chill with the idea. I mean, if you wanna learn, then who is he to deny you the fun that is playing bass?

Also, he doesn't say bass like the instrument, he says it like the fish, which is sorta funny during the lessons.

No, they will not be corrected on how to say it.

He's gonna sit you in his lap and show you everything, step by step.

They also let you experiment and play around, offering tips whenever you ask.

A decent teacher, not too great but not too bad, either.

~

Chain, Cowbell, Mist, Rain and Storm written by Nosferatu.

Lake written by Nyx.

River written by Death.

[mxtxfanatic]

Saw someone say that Jin Ling "always runs to Jiang Cheng when he cries," so here's all the moments when Jin Ling cries in the novel:

Right now, Jin Ling, who cried so loudly in front of the crowd, could almost make him see what Jiang YanLi looked like as she bawled her eyes out in such extreme despair. Among the boys at Jin Ling’s age, some had married already, and the older ones had already become fathers. To them, crying was quite the humiliating act. To cry before such a large crowd—just how frustrated did he feel? For a while, Wei WuXian didn’t even know what to do. He looked at Lan WangJi as if he was asking for help, but it was even less likely for Lan WangJi to know what to do. At this point, a voice came from across the river, “A-Ling!” Around half-a-dozen larger boats surrounded the fishing boat that they were on. Every one of those boats was filled with cultivators, with one sect leader standing at the foremost. The YunmengJiang Sect’s boat was at the right side of the fishing boat. It was the nearest, with no more than thirty metres between the two. The one who called was Jiang Cheng, who stood near the edge. Still teary-eyed, as soon as Jin Ling saw his uncle, he immediately wiped his face, sniffing. He looked here and there and finally made up his mind to fly over, landing at Jiang Cheng’s side. Jiang Cheng grabbed him, “What happened to you? Who did this to you?!” Jin Ling rubbed his eyes roughly, refusing to speak up.

—Chapt. 84: Loyalty, exr

Jin Ling had always thought crying was a sign of weakness, treating such an act with contempt. Yet, apart from a flood of tears, there was no other way to release the pain and anger in his heart. ... When Jin Ling heard that Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi were gone, he rushed outside, almost tripping on the threshold of the Guanyin Temple. But no matter how anxious, he was no longer able to find their figures. Fairy giddly ran circles around him, wagging his tongue. Jiang Cheng stood below a tall, straight tree within the Guanyin Temple. He glanced at him and spoke coldly, “Wipe your face.” Jin Ling rubbed his eyes roughly, wiping his face before running back, “Where are they?”

—Chapt. 110, exr

Bonus for "Who would Jin Ling run to if he felt like he was in danger:"

From the dark forest behind him slowly walked out a group of cultivators from different sects, wearing uniforms of different colors. The group grew larger and larger. In estimation, there were almost two thousand, a large black blanket that surrounded the cave. These cultivators, including Jiang Cheng, all bathed in blood, their faces tired. All of the boys rushed outside the cave, shouting, “Dad!” “Mom!” “Brother!” They were embraced into the crowd. Jin Ling looked left and right, as though he still hadn’t decided yet. Jiang Cheng’s voice was harsh, “Jin Ling, why are you so slow? What are you taking your time for? Do you want to die?!”

—Chapt. 68: Tenderness, exr

Is this the canon you’re reading?

[mochiwrites]

Mochi I’m brainrotting over your secret husbands AU, are there anymore crumbs you can provide for a poor Scarian lover?

I CAN ABSOLUTELY PROVIDE MORE CRUMBS YES <- just got to class and is bored

we haven't touched on season 8 too much, have we? I think there's a lot of funny moments to be had from this season. because boatem. mumbo, impulse, and pearl. they definitely have bets in the betting pool, and you know they're going to be trying whatever they can

from pearl locking grian and scar in the g-train. to mumbo asking both grian and scar to join him on a picnic only to back out last second. to impulse making one of those cheesy "boat of love" trips in the chocolate river in his factory for them

these guys are pulling out whatever stops they can to get grian and scar together. and I think it's boatem that finally makes our married couple realize what their friends are trying to do. they don't get away with it for very long

cue scar meeting with impulse and just. starting to wax poetry about how wonderful grian is, and how much he loves him (impulse is sick of it /affectionate). cue grian moping around mumbo's base because he misses scar (he'll see him in a few hours) and he can't just tell scar he misses him (this one is true, because scar would tease him for days if he knew)

bonus points for scar bothering cub about his "grian situation" and grian bugging pearl about his "scar situation" (both are So done with their respective siblings)

impulse calls an emergency meeting. boatem is empty. grian and scar get an entertaining date night

the hat scar made for grian? has an engraving on the inside that says forever and always, light of my life. grian makes scar backup gear that's extremely mushy and scar solemnly swears to never lose it (he has it stored away in his ender chest)

the pranks!!!! pranks a plenty!!!! scar gives grian a run around over where he's building his mountain (they both know scar is going to choose his spot). scar getting stuck in bedrock is absolutely Layered with flirting upon flirting. they die in the void together, holding each other because grian tried to catch him

grian officially renames the magical menagerie to magical bebegarie for forever (once again, scar claims the charged creeper is their child now. grian is exasperated)

they pick up a habit of star gazing together in midnight alley, and have definitely fallen asleep together before. scar's started to keep a blanket up there when that happens

speaking of blankets... he's missing a few. and some of his shirts are missing. and huh, would you look at that, scar's found them in grian's nest. How Odd

though grian loves sleeping in the swaggon, it's unfair how comfortable scar's beds always are! and boy do the other members of boatem go crazy when they see grian leaving scar's base in the morning. and upon being questioned, grian and scar always say that they stayed up doing blueprints of builds together. which isn't technically a lie, sometimes. but most of the time it's a lot more... hands on ;3

and oh my god the ravager prank from big eye crew... I'm not saying grian and scar try to keep each other in their sights the entire time, but I'm definitely saying grian and scar keep each other in their sights. and after the ravagers are taken care of, they're hiding away in grian's base and cuddling for the next few hours, Do Not Disturb

also this extends far past season 8 but scar often wakes up with jellie curled on grian instead of him. he declares grian is feeding her extra treats so she'll love him more. grian denies this, but scar doesn't believe him

:D

[the-rad-pineapple]

magic whump prompts

Day 4 - 9/26: "Leave me alone!" / bonus: emotional powers

This is based off this loose X-Men First Class AU thing I’m messing around with. There is lore/backstory I have ideas for that’s hinted at in this little fic. It's also not as whumpy as I thought it would be, so sorry for such a lack of whump in this little oneshot thing.

~ ~ ~

Charles feels it farther away than he thought he should. It’s a series of emotions. Flashing quickly. Powerfully. Chaotically. Whatever is happening is big. And it’s hurting a lot of people. Their thoughts are too jumbled and strong for Charles to separate them. To find who each thought belongs to. He’s racing towards it before thinking twice. 

They’re all over there. 

The other mutants. All of them. His new found family. They can’t be gone. 

Not so soon. 

There's pain. Searing. Debilitating. So much. Too much. Who. Who is it! Is it someone Charles knows?? 

Raven?? 

Erik?

Anger. So white hot it feels cold. Like a blue star. The tip of a metal fire poker. The drop of a roller coaster a moment before the sharp descent. It’s the most dangerous form of anger. Calm and collected. Controlled and sharp, like a hidden knife, deadly only by the precision of its wielder.

And then…

Fear. It clutches at his chest. Cold. Suffocating. Paralyzing. His footsteps stutter, and he breathes in a ragged breath.

Oh, God, please. Let them be okay. Please. 

Charles doesn’t even believe in God. 

His shoes slap loudly on the pavement. And then he can see it. Smoke rising above the nearby buildings, difficult to see in the darkness of night. Charles reaches his mind out. Searching. Feeling. Desperate to find answers but afraid of what he might see. There’s so much pain and fear. And they’re such strong, primal feelings they’re difficult to sort through. It’s not the usual thrum of low-level, day-to-day thoughts he’s used to. 

People race around the corner, and Charles slams into one of them. He’s thrown to the ground, and his head smacks painfully onto the sidewalk. 

Shit. 

He scrambles up, heart in his throat, and races onward. He blindly reaches out with his mind as he races towards whatever is causing this mayhem. And then he feels him. 

Erik.

That tranquil anger. It’s usually like a river. Rushing steadily yet calmly. But now…now it’s a waterfall. Not exactly chaotic, but unceasing. Impossible to ignore. Loud. Overpowering. 

Beautiful.

Erik is floating in the center of the street. Cars and buildings—even lampposts and fire hydrants—are bent towards him as if he’s their center of gravity. Charles has never seen him use his mutation before. He still isn’t even exactly sure what it is. But it’s obvious that Erik is powerful. 

There’s a group of people huddled behind a car, hands gripping each other, eyes pointed at the sky, fearfully searching for Erik, despite being unable to see him from their position. With a careless gesture, Erik sends the car crashing into a building. The fear from the people skyrockets, slamming into Charles. He clumsily puts up his mental shield a few seconds too late. He’d let it down in his search for the other mutants, uncaring what he let in. 

Erik floats down towards the group of people, a thousand different images of their deaths flashing through his mind. It’s almost satisfactory. But it’s…not. Death is not satisfactory. These are Erik’s desires. He’s become so entangled with Charles, Charles is having difficulty separating his own thoughts from Erik’s. He’s never struggled with that distinction like this before. 

Then Erik’s feet soundlessly meet the ground. His rage thunders in Charles’ ears.

“Erik!!” Charles calls. 

Erik freezes. His shoulders straighten, and his back goes rigid. 

Charles takes this time to slowly approach. “Erik, listen to me. Please. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to hurt them.” He’s inching forward. 

Erik slowly turns. His eyes are cold. Distant. “You don’t even know half the pain they’ve caused me.” 

“I…” I do. 

But Charles can’t say that, can he? Because then he’d have to tell Erik he’s been able to read his thoughts this entire time. That he’s been a mutant this entire time. That he’s useless and pathetic and has gotten some of their brothers and sisters killed. That he’s worse than the humans that Erik hates. And that Erik should hate him, too. 

Erik will hate him, too.

“Erik.” It comes out breathless and weak. 

“I’m sorry, Charles, but this is who I really am.”

“No, it’s not!”

“You think you know me??” He suddenly advances, and Charles stumbles backwards. “I’ve killed people, and I will kill them again.” 

Images flash through Charles’ mind then. Erik’s murders. Blood, and its warmth and metallic smell. Eyes filled with fear. Bodies laying peacefully on the ground. Cold ruthlessness. Sick satisfaction. A sense of pride and justice. 

It’s a stab to the heart. Because it’s wrong. What Erik has done—what he’s doing—is wrong.

And Charles can’t—he can’t take it. He reaches a hand out towards Erik. He can almost touch him. “Erik—” 

“Leave me alone!” he shouts, shoulders moving from the harshness of his breath. It’s then that Charles sees his tears. They fall silently and leave twin tracks down his cheeks. “Charles, I—” His voice wavers. He grabs Charles’ outstretched arm and pushes it back towards him. “I am not who you want me to be. I am not kind. I am not nice. And I am not forgiving.” 

“You’ve been all those things to me,” Charles whispers, tears of his own spilling down his face.

“You are the only human who’s ever been kind to me first.”

And Charles cries harder, lip wobbling and tears falling, because he can’t even be that for Erik. He can’t be the kindest human Erik’s met. He can’t be his hope that there is good in humanity. He can’t be the reason Erik changes his mind about them. Because Erik will never believe it until he sees it. Until it happens to him. And he thinks it has. But it hasn’t. 

Because Charles isn’t human.

Yet he’s still everything Erik despises. Everything Erik claims all humans are: liars, weak…

The reason mutants are dead.

Charles is shaking his head before he even realizes he’s doing so. “Erik, I…I’m not human.” 

A beat. 

“What.” Erik comes closer. Just a couple steps. But now they’re close enough Charles can feel the puff of Erik’s breath on his face. “Charles…” He’s searching him, looking almost…wondrously at Charles’ face. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” 

“I— W-what?” 

One of Erik’s hands gently cups Charles’ cheek. Charles blinks in surprise, shocked at how gentle Erik is. Shocked at the intimacy he’s sharing with him. Their closeness. Charles instinctively reaches out to Erik’s mind to see what he’s thinking. Why he’s doing this. Why he’s not upset. 

That familiar anger greets him. Not quite the waterfall it had just been, but not as calm as the usual river either. Almost like rapids. Bumpy and wild and bordering on uncontained. 

“Did they do this to you?” Erik asks. Steel is in his voice. Hatred.

“Do what?” 

Erik brushes the side of Charles’ face, the ghost of a touch just above his ear. 

Pain. Sudden and sharp. 

Charles recalls falling on the pavement. 

Erik continues, “Humans hurt you, didn’t they?” 

Charles swallows, throat suddenly dry. “They were running from you, Erik.”

Erik’s gaze hardens, and he pulls his hand away. “You cannot keep advocating for them, Charles.”

“And you cannot keep hurting them!” he exclaims. “You are the reason they are so afraid!”

“They are always afraid. They are always violent.” 

“Not all of them! Not all of the time!” 

Where the hell is Erik? I am not leaving without him. There’s not much time. Where the fuck is he??

They’re not his own thoughts, but the tone of them is familiar. It’s someone he knows. It’s—

It’s Raven. 

Charles immediately turns to where he can feel the tug of her consciousness. She’s panicked. She’s afraid. 

“Charles?” Erik asks, concern suddenly flooding his voice as if they weren’t just shouting at each other two seconds ago.

Charles turns back to Erik. “It’s Raven. She’s looking for you.” His tone is clipped and cold. 

“You heard her?” 

“She’s over there,” Charles says with a quick nod. 

But Erik is shaking his head as if he’s the one who can read minds. “Come with us.” 

“Erik, I—” 

“Please.” And then he steps closer. They’re not even a foot apart. “We need you, Charles.” 

I need you. 

“O-oh. Erik…”

“Please? We can do this together.” 

“No, no. Erik, I— Violence isn’t the answer, and I don’t want any part of that.” 

“Then let’s discuss it. Later.” He places his hands on Charles’ shoulders. “Once you’ve come with us.” He doesn’t look away.

I have to make him see. I have to make him see. Doesn’t he realize I don’t beg for anyone but him? That I can’t fucking do this without him?

“Okay,” Charles hears himself agree, ears ringing, heart stuttering at Erik’s thoughts. 

Surprise splashes across Erik’s face before he quickly conceals it.

“Now,” Charles urges. “Before I change my mind.” 

[dottielovegood]

Anything. Everything.

@elriel-month : Happy Solstice

This fic is based on the following prompt from @freepandahugs:

elriel with secret messages, where elain keeps sending little dirty messages to azriel while he is away in the cabin for the snowball fight 🤭 bonus points if smut ensues once azriel gets back

(I obviously went for the bonus points) Warnings: Explicit. NSFW. See tags on AO3 Word count: 6738

Azriel 

When Rhys told Azriel to stay away from Elain, he really did try to follow the order. He didn’t do so gladly, but he did it nonetheless. He might have filled a few snowballs with rocks during their annual snowball fight, but if Rhys understood why he did that, he didn’t let it show. And later that same day, he gave away the necklace he had bought for Elain, even though he regretted doing so just moments later. He just couldn’t keep it. He just couldn’t have one more thing reminding him of her. The vial of headache powder on his bedside table was enough of a reminder of what, and who, he so desperately wanted. 

It took him one week to grow resentful and one more week to question why Elain couldn’t choose her own fate. He didn’t really care much about himself – he never had, but Elain deserved better. She deserved a choice. It took a few more weeks to gather the courage he needed to talk to her about that night. He had behaved like an idiot and was fully expecting Elain to tell him so, but she didn’t. Of course, she didn’t. Because she knew. She had seen it. She had seen that he would come back to her. 

“I see many things, Azriel,” she had told him when he came to her room that night. “I just never know exactly when they will happen, so I’ve been waiting.”

“Waiting for me to beg your forgiveness?”

“There is nothing to forgive. Even though I am angry at Rhys for taking away my voice, I do understand him. He is afraid, and he needs to know that we will be here if anything were to happen to him. I don’t know Lucien very well, but I do not think that he would ever do anything to harm me or anyone in this court because of tradition, especially not an Autumn Court tradition. But if it will lessen the burden that Rhys has to carry at this moment, I am fine with keeping us a secret. For now.”

“You are a much kinder soul than I will ever be,” Azriel had murmured as he took her face in his scarred hands. “I might have filled my snowballs with rocks during our Solstice snowball fight.” 

Elain rolled her eyes and placed a hand over his heart. “Now I understand why Feyre calls you Illyrian babies.” 

Ever since that night, they had spent as much time together as possible. It wasn’t easy, seeing that they had to hide their relationship. After a few months, Elain moved into the Town House under the disguise of wanting more independence. In reality, it was the only way they could see each other without risking anyone finding out about them.

It was now one year later. One year, and no one knew about them. Well, the twins knew, and Azriel was quite certain that Cassian was getting suspicious, but apart from them, they had managed to keep their relationship hidden. 

This Solstice, they hadn’t been able to spend the night together either. Everyone had stayed at the River House and they had been forced to resort to stolen glances and careful touches all night, something so familiar yet foreign to them now. Azriel couldn’t wait to have Elain in his arms again. He had been away on a mission and had arrived home in Velaris just in time for Solstice dinner and even though it had only been little over a week since they last spent a night together, it felt like a small lifetime. Every single moment without Elain felt like an eternity. His life was better, brighter, with her in his life. So yes, he was aching to go to her, but first, he had a snowball fight to win. 

Azriel hadn’t thought much about that first message. 

When he woke up in the guest room in the River House, he found a small handwritten note on his bedside table. It smelled like jasmine and honey and he was quite impressed that she had managed to get it into his room without him noticing. During the last couple of months, she had been training with him and the twins and she often joked that she would steal the title of spymaster from him soon. Azriel had never felt more proud. 

I can’t wait for you to come home to me. My bed feels so cold when you’re not there. I miss you. 

He smiled at the note. Home. She was his home now and there was no place he’d rather be than with her. His entire soul was begging him to go to her room and take her away so they could be together. If it had been any other day, he would have done just that. It might seem silly that a Snowball fight was one of the most important days to three Illyrian males, but it wasn’t just a snowball fight. It was tradition. It was family. When Rhys had gone under the mountain all those years ago, Azriel and Cassian hadn’t been able to keep the tradition alive. They had gone to the cabin once, but it had felt all wrong without Rhys there. Everything had felt wrong when their brother had sacrificed himself for his court. Azriel and Cassian had left the cabin after just a few minutes and promised each other that they would stay away until Rhys came back, and that’s what they did. For almost fifty years, they waited for him to return, and when he did, Azriel promised himself to never miss a single snowball fight ever. What had once started as a silly game between friends, had now become one of his most cherished traditions. Even when Rhys pulled rank and meddled in other people’s lives, Azriel still showed up, and this year would not be different. Yes, he wanted to spend time with Elain and yes, he was aching to feel her soft body against his, but he also wanted to spend time with his brothers. 

And, in all honesty, he wanted to win. No, he needed to win. 

He couldn’t imagine a greater feeling than returning home to Elain after winning the game. 

It should be easy to win, Azriel thought. Rhys has a small baby and Cassian can’t spend more than ten minutes away from Nesta. Part of Azriel’s strategy this year was to play to their weaknesses - they would surely be tired and distracted. 

However, Azriel hadn’t accounted for Elain and how distracting she could be, even when she wasn’t there. 

The second message was not as subtle. 

Somehow, Elain had managed to put a small package in his bag that contained a cinnamon roll (his favorite) and another note. Luckily, he found it when he was alone in his room. 

I hope this tastes as sweet as I do. 

There he stood, next to the bed he had slept in so many times over the centuries, holding a cinnamon roll, thinking about the taste of Elain. He wanted to send her a message back telling her that nothing could ever come close to being as sweet as her. As so many times before, he wished that he had daemati powers, even though he probably wouldn’t be able to reach her when she was so far away. And once again, he hoped that the day would go by quickly. He was already planning on tasting her thoroughly once he made it back home. 

The third message wasn’t really a message, unless you knew what to look for. 

Elain had been given a book on the language of flowers for her birthday that year and, after reading it, she’d decided to teach him about how people used to send secret messages through flowers once upon a time. It had started out as a sweet way for them to send each other secret messages - a pink camellia to express longing when they hadn’t been able to see each other for a while, a white tulip to ask forgiveness when he had done something stupid, a bouquet of yellow flowers to show how happy he was that she was in his life. It was sweet and innocent most of the time. 

This flower was not innocent though. 

As he crouched down behind the wall of snow he had built to cover himself, a small, white flower fell out from somewhere in his clothes. He had no idea where it came from, but there was no question about whom it came from. 

Jasmine. The scent of her. The scent of home. 

In the snow, the small flower was almost impossible to see, but Azriel saw. He noticed. He knew. Not only was Jasmine the one flower that reminded him of Elain - of home. It was also the flower that represented love and desire. It was the flower Elain would give him when she wanted him to take her to bed. 

The small flower made him lose his concentration for just a moment, but a moment was all it took for Cassian to sneak up and hit him square in the face with a massive snowball. Roaring with laughter, he ran away just as Azriel bent down and crushed the flower into a giant snowball of his own. It was only fitting to aim for Rhys.

–-

Azriel lost the snowball fight. He hadn’t been able to get Elain out of his mind. He really should have insisted on them spending the previous night together because now he was not only aching for her, but he was also in a pretty bad mood since Cassian had won the snowball fight twice in a row now. Last year, he only had himself to blame but this time, Elain was definitely to blame. At least a little. 

He couldn’t wait to get home and take his frustrations out on her. 

Only a few more hours, he thought to himself as he undressed and reached for a towel. 

Once again, he was very happy that he had decided to go to his room before joining the others in the birchin. Cassian had shouted something about being a sore loser and licking his wounds, but in all honesty, Azriel just needed a moment to himself in order to try to get Elain out of his thoughts. He couldn’t very well sit in the birchin while thinking about the fact that Elain desired him and wanted him to come home and taste her. He couldn’t sit there, naked, while imagining how he would get down on his knees and worship her body for hours as soon as he got the chance. 

The fourth message, if one could even call it a message, was everything but subtle. 

When Azriel unfolded his towel and a small piece of lilac fabric fell to the floor, he knew that he wasn’t joining his brothers anytime soon. He bent down to pick up the lacy underwear Elain had somehow managed to sneak into his bag. It was the underwear he had bought her a few weeks ago on a trip to the continent. The underwear she had worn for approximately five minutes before he ripped them off her body and fucked her on the bedroom dresser. And against the wall. And on the bed. 

It had been a great night. 

Azriel curled his hand into a fist around the lace. “That little tease,” he muttered under his breath as he promptly started to dress again. Elain had him wrapped around her finger, and even though Azriel would never admit it, he loved it. 

She had sent him a very clear message, and Azriel was not going to make her wait for a response. So without saying goodbye, he stepped into a shadow and winnowed back to Velaris. Back to Elain. Back to his heart. Back to his home.

Elain

Elain was curled up in her green velvet armchair in what had once been her bedroom at the Town House. She now shared this room with Azriel, even though no one knew about it. They usually kept to this room, just to make sure that his scent didn’t linger if someone came to visit. She was reading one of Nesta’s books - the ones no one thought a good girl like her would ever enjoy. Except for Azriel, that is. He knew what she liked. He might have even known her preferences better than she did. Ever since that night when he had come to her to beg her forgiveness, he had shown her that she had no idea how good she could feel. Had shown her just how attuned to him her body was. Just thinking back on that night had her toes curling. 

She missed him. She hadn’t spent a night with him in far too long and her body was aching for him. She missed his touch, his tongue, and all the wicked things he did to her. She missed the way he could make her forget about all her troubles and the way he took care of her - not only sexually. When he was gone, she felt like a piece of her was missing. She knew that he felt the same, which is why she had left a few messages for him to find. Just the thought of him finding all of her little notes and gifts had her grinning to herself. Gods, she couldn’t wait for him to get home.

Little did she know that she was about to him sooner than she thought. 

She felt him before she saw him. There was something tickling her foot and when she looked down, a single shadow had curled itself around her ankle. She smiled at the unmistakable proof that he was nearby, though she didn’t move. She didn’t greet him. No, she only continued reading. Or she tried to, at least. It was a bit difficult to concentrate on the words when her entire body was suddenly more awake than it had been in days. She had to resist the urge to drop the book and look to the balcony where she was certain she would find him watching her. 

She could almost feel his eyes on her and when he sent another shadow to caress her hand, she couldn’t hide her smile any longer. “You’re home,” she said without lowering the book. She knew that he could tell that she wasn’t reading. She hadn’t turned the page since the first shadow had curled itself around her. Elain heard him come into her room, but he stayed by the balcony door. When she finally lifted her gaze to meet his, he was leaning against the door frame, his eyes set intently on her. She tried to ignore the fact that a lacy piece of fabric hung from his fingers. 

“I just came to return these,” he purred and lifted his hand. Elain had to bite back a grin. 

She eyed the underwear that she had put in his bag a few hours earlier. “I’m glad you received my messages,” she said sweetly. 

His eyes were burning into her and she could almost feel the heat as he dragged his eyes over her body. “And what message was it you were trying to send?” 

“I thought it was obvious.” She tried to play it cool, even though she felt everything but. Her entire body screamed at her to go to him. To press herself against his body and beg him to touch her. She needed his hands on her more than she needed oxygen. 

“Was it now?” he asked, his voice dangerously low. “I would say that the messages were somewhat conflicting. So please, indulge me.” 

“I just wanted you to know that I missed you.” It was the truth, even though she had wanted to tell him so much more. 

“Uh, huh.” His shadows seemed to vibrate around him. He closed his hand into a fist around her panties. 

Elain swallowed, “And that I was waiting for you to come back,” she continued. 

“And?” Azriel took one step toward her and sent another shadow to slide along her body until it came to rest around her neck. Suddenly, she forgot how to breathe. She had to press her thighs together to relieve the ache building there. 

“And that I wasn’t wearing any underwear.” She smiled at him, but he didn’t smile back. He held her gaze as he stalked over to her. She had to crane her neck to look at him when he stopped in front of her. 

“Did you win the snowball fight?” she asked with feigned innocence. 

He regarded her for a moment, his arms crossed over his chest. When he spoke, his voice carried a tone of warning. “I did not.” Elain could feel her smile waver. “In fact,” Azriel continued, “I received one of your messages during the fight.”

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. That hadn’t been her plan. “Oh?” 

“Don’t act all innocent.” Azriel bent down and put one hand on the armrest. His face was so close to hers she could taste his breath. “You made me lose the fight, Elain,” he whispered and Elain could feel a shiver run down her spine. 

She had no idea why he cared so much about a snowball fight. Where she came from, only children played in the snow. But she knew that he was competitive, almost to the point of obsession. No matter the game - Azriel needed to win. He needed to be in control. Elain hadn’t imagined him losing the fight. When she prepared her gifts for him, she had counted on him winning. She was so certain that he was going to win, and that he would want to celebrate his victory with her. In bed. She had imagined that he would find her messages sweet, if maybe a bit cheeky. But if she had made him lose the fight - she was quite certain that he didn’t find them endearing. 

“And these,” Azriel continued and held up her panties in front of her. “They made it quite impossible for me to join the others in the birchin.” For just a second, Elain let her gaze drop. In the darkness, she couldn’t see if he was hard, but she knew that he had been. That just the thought of her had made him leave his brothers and come back to her hours earlier than planned. She had made him lose control. 

Azriel didn’t like it when things didn’t go according to plan. Suddenly, Elain didn’t feel as confident. She had known exactly how this would play out if he won – but now, when she knew that he lost because of her – all bets were off. She felt nervous, although part of her felt excited. There was a thrill in not knowing what Azriel would do with her. To her. 

Azriel had never been a gentle lover. Ever since their first time together, it had been obvious that he needed to be in control even in the bedroom. Elain didn’t mind. Gentleness was not something she needed. People had always been gentle with her; her sisters, her parents, Graysen – they had all treated her like a flower made of glass. Too delicate, too fragile – that’s all she was to them. Azriel was the first to truly see her. He was the only one who understood her needs, even before she understood them herself. She had come to crave his control – his darkness. The way he would devour her with his eyes and then worship her body until she was begging him for more or mercy – it was better than anything she could have asked for. Outside the bedroom, Azriel was a gentleman. The same could not be said when they closed that bedroom door though. 

“My eyes are up here, angel,” he mused and Elain felt herself blush. He put a finger under her chin and forced her to look at him again. “Always so desperate for me to touch you. Couldn’t even wait until tomorrow.” His lips ghosted over hers. “Do you think you deserve to be touched? You did make me lose the snowball fight, after all.”

Elain wanted to roll her eyes, but she also wanted to come tonight. Sometimes, when Azriel had his wicked way with her, he could keep her on edge for hours and she definitely wasn’t in the mood for that tonight. Instead, she decided to play along. 

“Are you going to punish me because you lost a snowball fight?” she tried to make her voice a bit breathy – hoping to sound innocent. 

There was a hint of a smirk playing on Azriel’s lips. He knew what she was doing. “Do you think you should be punished?” he asked, his lips just out of reach. She wanted him to kiss her. She needed him to devour every part of her. 

“If that’s what it takes to get you to touch me.”

When she finally felt his lips against hers she wanted to sigh in relief. She wanted to throw her arms around his neck and pull him down to her. She could feel him smile and she parted her lips for him, but he never kissed her. He just kept his lips on hers, barely even touching. It was maddening. 

“Please,” she breathed. She didn’t know what she was asking for, she just knew that she might die if he didn’t kiss her. 

“Please what?” he teased. He always did this. Always made her use her words to ask for what she wanted. 

“Please, anything just– I’ve missed you. I need you.”

“Need me to do what?”

Frustrated, she put her hand over his heart and fisted the black fabric of his shirt. “Anything. Everything.”

Azriel chuckled and grabbed her wrist. “Dangerous words, love.”

“Please,” she begged again. She licked his lower lip, hoping to finally get a reaction from him. 

“So desperate for me,” Azriel teased. With a firm grip on her wrist, he loosened her hold on his shirt. “Always begging for more.”

Elain just nodded. Yes, she wanted more. So much more. She was going crazy. How could he be so calm when she was burning up? 

“Go stand by the bed.”

Before the words even had a chance to register, he had pushed himself off the chair and was once again standing over her, his arms crossed and his expression serious. She knew that they were playing - that this was part of the game. Yet, when he looked at her like that, she wanted nothing more than to please him. When he looked at her like that, she would do anything just to try to get him to lose control. Anything. Everything. 

Elain stood up on shaky legs and walked over to the bed. When she turned around, she found Azriel leaning against the wall again. He still had her panties in his hand. 

“What now?” she asked. 

“Strip.”

Elain started sliding the straps of her nightgown down her arms. Slowly, enticingly. Her eyes never leaving his. When she let the fabric fall to the floor, Azriel lost his control for just a split second. His nostrils flared as he took in the scent of her and his eyes burned a path down her naked body. 

“Well, you weren’t lying,” he murmured, his eyes focused between her legs. Elain fought the instinct to wrap her arms around her body. 

“Get on the bed.”

Elain quickly did as she was told. She lay down on top of the covers and kept her eyes on him the entire time. She felt exposed. She needed him to cover her. “And now?”

A smirk played on Azriel’s lips as he watched her. Her heart was beating fast and the anticipation of what was to come made her even more desperate. She kept her legs pressed together and her arms lay stiff at her sides. She expected him to come to her now, but he stayed exactly where he was. He did nothing, said nothing. Elain could do nothing but wait. 

Azriel’s was covered in shadows and Elain could see a dark tendril slithering over the floor. She shivered when it reached the bed and started to make its way up her body. The feeling of his shadows on her skin was foreign yet familiar at the same time. They were neither warm nor cold, neither smoke nor solid. Yet she could feel them twist and curl around her legs, her arms. Her neck. One shadow came to rest around her neck and Elain arched into the feeling, letting her head fall back into the soft pillow. Azriel had always loved her neck. Always made sure to give it extra attention whenever they were together. On more than one occasion had she been forced to wear a scarf to hide the marks he so lovingly left on her skin. 

Elain tore her eyes away from Azriel for just a moment and looked down at her body. She was covered in shadows. When she tried to move her arm, she was surprised to find that she couldn’t. “Azriel,” she gasped when she realized that the shadows were pinning her to the bed. 

“You look beautiful like this,” he said, his voice low and full of wicked promises. “Covered in my darkness.” 

Elain whimpered when she felt one of his shadows move up her inner thigh. She had no idea what his shadows were made of, but they seemed to be vibrating against her already sensitive skin. They had never done this before. His shadows were usually nowhere to be seen when they were together like this. She didn’t know what to make of it, she just knew that her body was begging for more. 

“Please,” she breathed, her eyes pleading with him. This was the sweetest form of torture. 

Azriel’s eyes darkened and she could see him reach for something on her dresser. “Already begging?” 

“Yes.” If it pleased him, she would get down on her knees to beg him to touch her. She would do anything if he just made her feel good. Azriel walked over to the bed and Elain breathed a sigh of relief. He was finally giving in. Finally giving her what she needed. 

“Open your mouth,” he ordered. She turned her head to the side and opened her mouth, expecting him to unfasten his trousers and put his cock between her lips. She held his gaze as he stroked a finger over her jaw and caressed her lower lip with his thumb. “So eager,” he murmured.  “So beautiful.”

A shadow slipped over her eyes just as Azriel’s fingers left her skin. She didn’t have time to feel surprised before something was pushed into her mouth. It was soft. Some sort of fabric. Maybe…

Elain could feel herself blush when she realized what Azriel had done. 

Her panties. He had put her panties in her mouth. She couldn’t speak. He had gagged her with her own underwear. If she hadn’t been so turned on, it would have been humiliating. 

At the same moment, he put something cold in her hand. She wasn’t sure, but she thought that it felt like her hairbrush. “If it’s too much and you can’t speak, just let go of the brush and we’ll stop.” 

Azriel removed the shadow over her eyes and Elain found comfort in the warm brown eyes looking down at her. “Nod if you understand.”

Elain nodded and hummed. 

“Do you want to stop?” 

She shook her head. 

“Good girl,” he purred, and Elain almost moaned at the praise. If someone would have told her a year ago that Azriel had the dirtiest mouth in Velaris, she wouldn’t have believed them. Nor would she have believed that she would melt like butter every time he praised her. 

Azriel took a step back again, his eyes ravenous as they took in the way his shadows slithered over her body. When his eyes found hers again, he smiled at her. It was a wicked smile and Elain loved the promise behind those dark eyes of his. He was giving her exactly what she asked for.

The shadow between her legs started to move again and Elain pressed her head back into the pillow and closed her eyes, trying to savor the sensation. 

“Eyes on me,” Azriel commanded. “I want to see what I do to you.”

Elain whimpered as she met his gaze again. “Don’t forget, drop the brush if you want to stop.” 

That was all the warning she got before she felt another shadow at her entrance. She was so wet, so needy. When the shadow pushed inside of her, Elain gasped in surprise. She had no idea how this was happening. She didn’t understand. All she knew was that she was covered in Azriel’s darkness and that she was, quite literally, fucking a shadow. The shadow filled her slowly and the sensation of being so full while the other shadows caressed her body had her moaning. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. All she could was feel. She felt the shadow move inside her while another shadow tightened its grip around her throat. The sensations were both too much and not enough. She wanted to beg again but she had no words. He had taken her words and her body and all that was left was him. His shadows. His darkness. His eyes staring right into her very soul. 

She had no idea how much time had passed when Azriel finally spoke again. It could have been minutes or hours - she didn’t know. Didn’t care. 

“Do you enjoy getting fucked by my darkness?” his voice was dark, almost sinister. 

She nodded and tried to answer but all she could manage was a muffled sound. 

He chuckled and reached into the shadows. She felt his fingertips on her knee. It almost burned her skin. “I was going to come to you tomorrow,” he said and moved his finger slowly up her thigh. “I was going to bring you breakfast in bed and fuck you slowly for hours.”

Elain moaned again when she felt his fingers tease between her folds. “But you couldn’t wait, could you?” Azriel stroked her clit with two fingers. “You had to send me that flower.” His fingers traveled lower. “You just had to put your panties in my bag.” She tensed when his fingers circled her entrance. “Were you trying to get me to come home early?”

Again, Elain tried to answer but the words never made it out of her mouth. 

Agonizingly slowly, Azriel pushed one finger inside. The shadow that had filled her disappeared and she whimpered at the loss and the new sensation. The shadows spread her legs to give him more access and Elain wanted nothing more than to move into his touch. 

Azriel’s finger stilled and he slid one knee between her thighs. His other other hand came to rest beside her head and Elain reveled in feeling his weight on her. She breathed in his scent of night-chilled mist and cedar. He smelled like home. Azriel dipped his head and she could feel his breath on her ear. “Message received,” he whispered just as he pressed another finger into her aching core. She moaned around the lace. The way he curled his fingers just right had her seeing stars. Azriel groaned and lifted his head again. His hazel eyes focused on her for just a moment before he leaned in and took the lacy fabric that hung out of her mouth between his own teeth. He held her gaze as he slowly pulled them out of her mouth. He dropped them beside her head and Elain managed to take one single breath before his mouth was on hers. She could feel him growl as he deepened the kiss and started fucking her with his fingers. She moaned into his mouth and felt herself clench around him. She wanted more. Wanted all of him. 

“Please,” she begged breathlessly against his lips. “Please, I want all of you.”

“You have all of me. Always,” Azriel murmured against her lips. He teased her lower lip with his tongue and she parted her lips to let him in. She melted into his kiss – into his touch. Azriel’s fingers brought her to the edge over and over, but every time she was close, he slowed his movements or changed the angle. She knew he was doing it on purpose. Elain let out a frustrated growl and fisted her hands in the fabric of his shirt. She didn’t even realize that she had moved until she heard the brush she had been holding fall to the floor.

The shadows disappeared and Azriel stopped his movements immediately. He withdrew his fingers from her, which was the opposite of what she wanted. She hadn’t meant to drop the brush, it had just been too much and not enough and she needed him closer. 

“Are you okay, Elain?” He asked, concern painted all over his beautiful face. “Do you want to stop?”

Shaking her head, Elain pulled him down until she could whisper in his ear. “I don’t want to stop. I want more.” Her voice was low and full of desperation. She was quite certain that she would go mad if he didn’t let her come soon. “Please, Azriel. Make me feel good.”

With a growl, Azriel crashed his lips to hers again and moved his body over hers. He was still fully clothed but she could feel just how much she wanted her. Elain reached down and palmed his cock over the leather. Azriel grabbed her wrist and pulled away from her. When their eyes met, she could see both fire and shadows in his. She loved everything about Azriel, but there was something so wonderfully forbidden when he was like this. Here he was, the spymaster, the male who never showed his emotions, burning for her. She had never felt so powerful before. 

“Get on your hands and knees.”

Azriel stood up next to the bed and Elain let out a shaky breath before pushing herself up to a sitting position. She watched as he reached behind him and unfastened the clasps on his shirt. He let the dark fabric fall to the floor and now it was Elain’s turn to devour him with her eyes. Gods, he was gorgeous. She couldn’t believe he was hers. 

“Angel, don’t make me wait,” Azriel said and reached for the fastenings on his trousers. “I really don’t like waiting.”

“Or losing,” Elain muttered under her breath and turned around. She placed her knees on the edge of the bed and leaned forward, balancing herself on her hands. She tried to ignore the fact that Azriel could see everything from his position behind her. She held her breath in anticipation as she waited for him to touch her. 

“Az–” she began, but his name died on her tongue when she felt a sharp pain on her left buttock. She gasped in surprise. He spanked her. He actually spanked her. 

He had never done that before. Elain had no idea why her body seemed to sing from the pain. She couldn’t understand how the feeling was so similar to pleasure. Azriel had always said that there was a fine line between pain and pleasure, but Elain had never experienced that for herself. Now though, she was beginning to understand what he meant. 

“That’s for being a brat,” Azriel said. When his hand came down on her ass a second time, Elain closed her eyes and let herself really feel the sensation of it all. She didn’t dislike it as much as she thought she would. 

In fact, she didn’t dislike it at all. 

“And that’s for making me lose the snowball fight.”

Should she ask for forgiveness? Should she tell him that she was sorry?She had no idea. She just knew that she didn’t want him to stop. 

He spanked her one more time and Elain couldn’t help the moan that left her lips. “And that’s for making it impossible to join my friends in the birchin.”

Elain smiled but kept quiet. 

His hand came down a fourth time and Elain could feel herself get wetter. Gods, she was really disturbed, wasn’t she? Who enjoyed getting spanked? 

As if he could read her mind, Azriel stroked his hand lovingly over her ass. “And that one was just because you seemed to enjoy that.” Elain could hear the smile in his voice. She turned her head so she could look at him over her shoulder. 

“What does that say about me?” She worried her lip between her teeth. 

“That you’re perfect for me.”

Azriel moved his hand over her back until it rested between her shoulder blades. He pushed her down until her breasts were pressed against the bed. She heard him shift behind her and she resisted the urge to look back again. She felt something warm between her legs and Azriel’s hand was once again grabbing her ass, holding her open for him. He stroked his cock between her folds. “So fucking pretty for me,” he said as the head of his cock pushed inside her. With his other hand, he grabbed her hip and without warning, he drove his hard cock into her warmth. She fisted the sheets and moaned as he started to fuck her. Hard. Azriel was not holding back as he drove into her again and again. 

“Such a good girl. Taking everything I give you,” he all but growled. “I’ve missed you so fucking much.”

“I missed you too,” she managed to gasp between moans. She met his thrusts, her body begging her to take him deeper. She felt something wet between her cheeks and then Azriel’s thumb was there, massaging her asshole. She was too lost in pleasure to care about the fact that she should feel mortified. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” Azriel said, his breathing ragged and his voice dripping with lust. 

“Don’t you dare stop.”

Elain moaned when his thumb pushed inside. She had never been this full before. They had spent so many nights together, but it had never been like this. Never this intense, this raw.

“You like being filled like this, don’t you?”

Once again, Elain moaned into the sheets and pushed her body back against his, making his thumb slip in further. “Oh, gods,” she whimpered. “Azriel– oh, fuck…” 

“You’re doing so well, Elain.”

She felt a familiar sensation as he sent one of his shadows to massage her clit again. She had to bite the sheets to keep herself from screaming. “Don’t,” Azriel grunted. “Let me hear how good I make you feel.” 

And Elain did. She had no control of her body and Azriel didn’t let up. He kept fucking her. Filling her. Using her. He gave her everything and she gladly took it all. 

“Az, I’m gonna– Oh, gods, I–”

“Come for me, sweetheart. Go on, come on my cock.” 

She felt herself clench around his cock and his thumb. Her legs started to shake and she was glad Azriel was holding her up because she was falling. She came with a scream and she could feel Azriel fill her just seconds later. He fucked her through her pleasure. “Fuck,” he grunted as he pushed himself into her once last time before he stilled. 

They were both trying to catch their breaths. Azriel pulled out of her and covered her body with his. She could feel his seed run down her thighs. He kissed her shoulders, her neck. Licked that sensitive spot just below her ear. She barely even registered that they had moved until her head was resting on Azriel’s chest, her fingers following the path of his tattoos. Elain had done this so many times, she was certain that she would be able to trace the swirls of his tattoos in her sleep. She had spent every moment they had together memorizing his body and he had done the same with hers. 

“Can we stay like this forever?” She asked and kissed him over his heart. 

Azriel tightened his grip on her and kissed the top of her head. “Anything you want. You are my everything, Elain.”

“Anything and everything,” Elain said. “Dangerous words.”

[emilyondemand]

Something I find a little interesting about some in the fandom is how literal things need to be spelled out. I think this could be a bit of a case of not understanding the difference when an author shows us something(good writing) and tells us something(mediocre writing, except where exposition is needed, obviously). This is especially important in relationship dynamics, and I think this can be applied to Az’s bonus pov as well as to his and Elaine’s relationship as a whole.

SJM has been peeling back layer after layer showing us the depth of feeling and tenderness between Az and Elain through their actions toward one another.

Elain noticing Az rubbing his temples and getting him something to alleviate his discomfort

Az making a joke at Amren’s expense to distract everyone from Elain’s embarrassment

Az staying up with El after 3 am to listen to her gardening plans

Az acknowledging Elain’s contributions and service to her court and family through her domestic duties and not letting anyone eat until she is seated as a sign or respect

Az respecting Elain’s privacy with Lucien

When Azriel hears about the fight between Nesta and Elain, he doesn’t wonder about the fight, he is worried about Elain’s well-being. “What happened to Elain”

Azriel’s shadows coiling like snakes to defend Elain when she’s insulted.

So a common argument is that we were in Azriel’s head and he did not think about Elain in any other terms outside of her beauty and having sex with her. That even in Cassian’s bonus he thought about Nesta as a “pillar of steel and flame,” but I feel like this again comes down to that pesky little thing that antis love to hate, context. And even in context, this remark from Cassian isn’t much different than Azriel thinking about how open and hopeful and trusting Elain is when she looks at him.

Cassian and Nesta, at the point of time of his pov, had only seen each other a couple times. Nesta was still human, Cassian didn’t understand why he was drawn to her, they each had a very visceral reaction to one another that manifested itself by walking a very thin line between love/hate (and very often fell into hate territory). This encounter happened before he made a vow to protect Nes, which in text seemed mildly out of place, but was illuminated by their interaction in his bonus pov.

The bonus gives context for Cas’s actions in that moment. Just like all of the moments Elain and Az have had over the course of four books give context to Az’s bonus.

Azriel and Elain find themselves in a private romantic situation. One that Az has been simultaneously trying to avoid, but also hoping for desperately. The author is expecting her readers to understand by this point in the story that there is an established bond between the two, so there is no need for Azriel to wax poetic on Elain’s virtues, he knows what they are. Because, as opposed to Cassian and Nesta in Cassian’s bonus, Azriel and Elain have spent over 2 years moving in the same circle and getting to know one another. SJM is noting the familiarity that has occurred between them when she has Azriel remarking on:

Not needing his shadows to read Elain

Elain understanding why he was avoiding the river house and his motivations- indicating that these two have gotten to know each other well enough to communicate without words

Moments unseen to the reader involving mutual flirting with lingering glances and the brushing of fingers

And Elain making a sex joke with Azriel shows that these two are obviously comfortable with one another, especially in light of Elain’s reaction to Feyre’s attempt to discuss Fae periods with her

Ironically enough, antis also conveniently forget that between the two POV’s, it’s Cassian who is concerned about how Mor will feel about him and Nesta; Azriel on the other hand, doesn’t spare a thought for Mor while he is with Elain.

Then we get to the confrontation between Azriel and Rhys. Antis seem to think that Azriel is going to just start pouring out his heart to Rhys, and the truth is, he kind of does in his own way. I think it’s also important to note that Azriel’s rage here had less to do with Rhys interrupting, than it did with Azriel knowing Elain was confused and hurt and he was forced to be the cause of it.

So then we have Azriel:

Willing to upset the tentative peace in Prythian for Elain

Willing to fight a blood duel for Elain

Prioritizing Elain’s wants over the entitlement of the mating bond

Questioning Fate and the Mother

And his feelings need to be spelled out more than that? In a bonus chapter the majority of readers don’t even know about?

SJM shows us over and over in the bonus that there is a deep and intimate connection between Azriel and Elain, and it is mutual. The lengths Azriel would be willing to go for Elain and her well being says loud and clear that his feelings for her aren’t purely sexually driven. The cliche: actions speak louder than words, personifies their relationship.

[fruitymocha]

A Cottagecore Picnic with The Butlers Part 1: First Floor Edition

That time when the First Floor butlers took you on a cottagecore picnic

Featuring: Berrien Cliane, Bastien Kelly, Lono Fontaine (separate) x gn!Reader (you/your pronouns) (can be read as platonic, romantic, whatever you want)

Warnings: none :)

A/N: oh my goodness FINALLY, something Akuneko related! I had this idea for a while, but debated on whether I should actually use it for Akuneko or some other fandom, but I figured “this is a good topic to start with for them” so here we are. I was supposed to post this forever ago but lost motivation/passion for this for months. But now I’ve come back to the fandom with a fresh dedication (and also I have the game on my phone now, despite not knowing very much Japanese). But anyway, without further ado:

Let me restore your memory…

Is he making the food and drinks for the picnic? Of course he is! He can’t have the Master doing work, silly!

Obviously, you’d feel a little guilty for not doing anything (or at least I would-) so maybe you secretly made madeleines and snuck them into the basket because you know he loves them

I’m 99.999% sure Berrien planned everything weeks in advance, from the menu to the location, maybe even the specific outfits to wear (though he probably consulted Flure for that last part)

Obviously, this means that Berrien has the perfect spot for the two of you as well as the time

He brought bug spray, sunscreen, lip balm, the works! Also, he brought an umbrella just in case it rains. Can’t have the Master getting soaked to the bone and getting sick, right?

I can see him choosing a lovely open space with green grass as the location, and you’re absolutely under a giant tree for the purpose of staying in the shade (bonus points if there’s a body of water close by, like a river or lake)

You’re going there maybe a little too early for lunch (you arrive at 11:30 sharp because punctuality), but you start eating at around noon so it’s fine

Oh, and like the title says, this is a cottagecore picnic. It’s not cottagecore if there are no flowers, so you get your favorite flowers because you’re the Master and you deserve flowers.

Also, that means your outfits are very light colored and give off that fresh spring vibe

And perhaps you did a thing behind Berrien’s back again and decided to wear something that matches his outfit’s colors, even though he’s technically lower in social standing, but you cannot be stopped (and matching outfits does seem like a proper thing to do when it’s just the two of you and you’re in public)

So besides the madeleines you made as an attempt to contribute, what are you having on that picnic?

For savory food, he’s got various types of finger sandwiches, he’s got a charcuterie board (you know, those assortments of cheese and cured meats, probably with crackers too) unless you’re vegetarian/vegan, a platter of some assorted fruit slices and berries, and the “main” thing is two baguette sandwiches (if you follow a diet just imagine what’s in it is okay for you to eat)

For the drink of choice, he obviously brought his own tea blends as well as some classic teas for you, because this is Berrien we’re talking about here

Are we sure this is a picnic and not just a tea party on the ground?

Anyways, now for the moment we’ve all been waiting for: dessert

Berrien packed some fruit tartlets, some with strawberries, some with blueberries, some with kiwi, and some were just mixed fruit

And then of course he’d notice the madeleines as he’s unpacking everything, which leads to you awkwardly explaining how you felt bad for not doing anything to help so you made them to try and contribute

Which leads to a mini spiel about your position and how you not doing anything while the butlers do everything is what’s supposed to happen

But he’ll let it slide this once since you went through all the trouble and you had him in mind when you made the madeleines

Let’s just pretend you’re decent at baking here, and say the madeleines were pretty good

Good times for all :)

Except the fact that there are leftovers, and then you two stare at each other like “we’re gonna have to bring all of this back to the manor…”

But it’s fine, you’ll just eat the leftovers for dinner (even if some obscure etiquette book says it’s weird for nobles to do that or something)

So you pack up the leftovers and just sit and chat for a while after

Maybe if you’re up for it you even take a little stroll in the park

But obviously with the town’s canonically negative sentiments towards you and the butlers, you really can’t stay too long, so soon enough you have to go back to the manor

It’s okay though, you had the time of your life and you’d definitely want to do something like this again

Let’s be honest, it’s going to take a lot of convincing before he actually agrees for you to plan this cottagecore picnic

I mean really, he has the skills and attitude of a proper knight, of course your safety is top priority

But let’s say you use your brain and convince him by saying if he chooses a secluded spot and stays with you the whole time, it’s very unlikely you’ll be hurt

And if he brings up the Angel problem, just promise you’ll bring the book and tell him he’ll be coming along to protect you

In that case, he’ll say he’s coming with only for the sake of your safety, and it’s not exactly a lie, it’s just not the whole truth

To assume he’s not curious about this picnic of yours would be naïve. Of course he wants to see what kinds of food you bring (and maybe taste test a little)

So obviously you tried to make food behind his back but he caught you so he made you sit back down and tried his hand at it

It wasn’t too bad of an experience, actually, since he’s helped Lono in the kitchen before

There were no sweets made, but the menu was satisfying nonetheless

The location was atop a grassy hill where you could oversee the village nearby, and occasionally there were some clumps of weeds and wildflowers around.

You two got there at around 11:00 am, and planned to only be there for about an hour and a half

On the menu, there was meat stew (if you’re vegetarian/vegan, then it’s only for Bastien), crackers and hummus, multigrain bread, vegan herb quiche, and lemon tea

Being the Master you are though, you snuck behind his back and made yourself some apple hand pies

It’s still spring, so obviously you wanna wear something nice, and I think in this case Bastien will wear mid tone blues or greens

Meanwhile you’d probably wear whatever, since it never occurred to Bastien that you might want to coordinate outfits

There were no leftovers. None. I can guarantee it at least on Bastien’s end

He’ll never say it out loud, but he appreciated this quiet little picnic, and with some convincing, he may consider doing it again at some point

Needless to say, it was a success :)

Absolutely on board

He immediately starts planning the menu, and of course since he makes the food, it’s guaranteed to be bomb af

Of course you also tried to help but you weren’t even able to sneak behind his back and make stuff this time

He’s real serious about not having you lift a finger

As long as you promise to bring the book just in case of angels, he’s all for it

He probably chose a more wooded area so as not to risk any passersby finding you two (for safety reasons obviously)

You two went out at noon and brought basics like sunscreen, bug spray, and extra water, setting up in a small clearing in the woods

At some point Lono probably picks some wildflowers and gives them to you, which is such a sweet gesture

Are your outfits matching? Not at first glance, but the color palette is similar enough that you could make the argument

For the food, Lono decided to get real serious about it and made French onion soup, veggie pot pie, a vegetable focaccia, wild garlic pasta, and a mixed berry galette

As for the drinks, he brought white tea and violet lemonade

Obviously you being you, you gotta compliment the chef

And naturally Lono is happy about it, even if he does say it’s just part of the job

Another case of leftovers but instead of letting it go to waste, Muu gets to try some of it

Of course you aren’t allowed the leftovers because health reasons (I hear that leftovers, especially ones you have to reheat, aren’t the best for you)

But anyway you had a great time out there and Lono would be glad to go again if he also didn’t have to worry about making more food than normal

A lovely ending to a lovely event with these First Floor Butlers

~memory restored~

[nancypullen]

Heading to California

The mister and I are driving to California tomorrow. It's not nearly as exciting as you might think, it's just a town in southern Maryland.

We're going on a fact-finding mission. We might want to live there. It's early days yet, NOTHING is happening, but we'd like to have a look around. It would offer a lot more than what we have here in Denton (restaurants, shopping, medical care, etc) and we'd still be about an hour from the Edgewater gang. Bonus, we wouldn't have to worry about Chesapeake Bay Bridge traffic all summer. Not gonna' lie, when I google the town and see that they have everything from Belk to JoAnn's to Sally Beauty, it sounds like every convenience I left behind in Mt. Juliet. Man, do I miss that ease of living. There's a Lowe's, a Home Goods, a movie theater, a couple of malls, five grocery stores, a Target, and so on. The reason that this small town offers so much is that it's rubbing shoulders with Patuxent River Naval Air Station. Unfortunately, the closest airport is Reagan National in D.C., about 65 miles away. I think BWI (Baltimore) is 75. Not ideal, but not any worse than what we're dealing with now. I've been looking at real estate online, and at the moment it's in our price range. Before I build this up in my mind as the answer to everything that is wrong here in Caroline County, we're going to have a look around. I know the grass always seems greener elsewhere, but folks, we hardly have grass here. Literally and figuratively. If nothing else tomorrow I get to stop at a Home Goods (Halloween stuff!) and a Sally beauty (hair stuff!). I miss civilization so much. Our plan is to ditch Denton first thing in the morning and head over the bridge and turn south.

We'll explore, have a little lunch (so many restaurants to choose from!), and then head back home. Feels like the Amish on Rumspringa. I'll report our findings here on the ol' blog and let you know if it was much ado about nothing or has some potential. Our choices in Maryland seem to be dense urban or the sticks. This might be a happy medium. Scratch that, I do like Easton (here on the Eastern Shore) and really like their Talbot County property taxes. There's plenty to consider, and we're willing to explore the possibilities. We've been in Maryland just over two years, and I really think there's a better life for us outside of Denton. It's sure worth a look. On that note, I'll wrap this up. I hope that you keep your hearts and minds open to change. Don't be afraid to admit that you need to make changes. This may or may not be something we'll pursue, and if we do, it won't be right away. We're just in the talking stages. We do know that we need more than this. We also know that although we worked hard to make this house very pretty, it's not a house we can live in at 80 or 85. Ideally we'll need a one story house, or at least a home with the primary suite on the first floor. We're not at that point yet, but we also don't want to have to make that move when we're really old. Is it silly to think of that at 60? I don't think so. Better than 80. Those are the thoughts rattling around in my head, so I just dumped them all out for you. Pick through the mess and keep what you like. Sending out oodles of love tonight, I hope you feel it. If you need to make any changes, I'll be your cheerleader. Do it! Follow your dreams! Get what you need! Be brave!

There's always one.

I'll let you know how our adventure unfolds. Until then, stay safe, stay well. XOXO, Nancy

[autisticstevenuniverse]

Rating Every Nu Who Episode: Season 6

A Christmas Carol: 9/10 this episode is so sad and sweet and hopeful and about how you have to live now because if you save life for later you'll never get to it.

The Impossible Astronaut: 6/10 and thus begins one of my least favorite arcs that could have been so interesting but isn't. Does get some points because seeing him die and then running into him immediately is funny.

Day of the Moon: 7/10 loses some points for the arc but as an episode is actually pretty fun. I like the Silence.

The Curse of the Black Spot: 8/10 this episode is fun and a nice break.

The Doctor's Wife: 5/10 I really wanted to like this episode, and it has some fun moments, but as a whole feels a little random and outside everything else.

The Rebel Flesh/The Almost People: 4/10 no. Just no. It might stand ok on it's own but as a lead up to anything is very not good.

A Good Man Goes to War: 0/10 one of my least favorite episodes ever. Suddenly Amy has been kidnapped for months, and now she has a baby, but it's not really here and also is River who was taken in by these people that will never be mentioned again but then also taken away by the Silence and raised specifically to kill the Doctor? Nope. River deserves a better backstory and more of her own life, as implied by being a professor and archaeologist. Even Amy deserves better than being reduced to being kidnapped for her baby.

Let's Kill Hitler: 2/10 this one gets a couple points for a lead up that might be interesting, but it is WAY too unlikely that River had all of the following happen in her childhood: (1) raised by a group of people who changed her name to match their language conventions (don't remember their name, sorry), (2) was raised by the silence to kill the Doctor, (3) was abandoned by the silence despite them still wanting the Doctor dead and nearly died on the streets, (4) spent the rest of her childhood somewhere near enough to Amy to be best friends and apparently living a normal enough life to have a best friend, and (5) by college back to being controlled by the Silence. Also absolutely every plot point except the tiny people in the assassin ship is awful.

Night Terrors: 6/10 I mostly like this one actually but there's a paradox that really bugs me: apparently George's anxiety is only triggered by overhearing his parents debate sending him away, but they were only discussing that in the first place because of issues that were apparently caused by said anxiety. Still a sweet story, but it bugs me.

The Girl Who Waited: 8/10 I like future!Amy SO much better than current Amy, but also feel like this is one of the only episodes where Amy really gets to be her own character at all.

The God Complex: 9/10 the worst fears thing is fun, I don't care how little sense it makes.

Closing Time: 8/10 this was a fun break. I like that he speaks baby.

The Wedding of River Song: 2/10 the points only being for the interesting all-history-at-once alternate universe. The plot is awful and I hate it and if their wedding isn't really a wedding but him giving her instructions (or something like that, it's been a while), then when did he tell her his name as previously established? It's the worst and I hate it.

Bonus Character Rating:

Eleven: 7/10 he's kinda fun.

Amy: 1/10 she's worse than last season.

Rory: 1/10 he's kind of just furniture.

River: 6/10 she's still fun but I feel like she lost a lot of agency and personality in this arc.

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

"I came in contact with the burnt out ruins of the past, lieutenant."

KIM KITSURAGI - "That does sometimes happen." He hands you the remains of your ledger.

Item Gained: Ledger of Failure and Hatred

KIM KITSURAGI - "You dropped this -- are you okay to proceed?"

"Let's solve this case." [Leave.]

Just nod. [Leave.]

+5 XP

Level up!

KIM KITSURAGI - "Good."

TUTORIAL AGENT - The Ledger of Failure and Hatred is a special item that can be used both as an INTERACTABLE and a TOOL equipped in your HELD slot for skill bonuses. Find it under the TOOLS tab in your INVENTORY.

LEDGER OF FAILURE AND HATRED - This is the same ledger you found in the trash, only *worse* somehow. It makes you think about the letter. About the woman's handwriting. About not wanting to get out of bed in the morning.

The Ledger gives us +1 Inland Empire, +1 Empathy, and -2 Authority. I probably won't be equipping it.

Interacting with the ledger simply opens the same dialogue menu as before.

WHITE MOURNING

Temporary research bonus: -1 Authority: Little guy gets further and further away

Research time: 5h

You see yourself from above. You’re passed out on the blue tiles of the hostel room floor. Even from this distance you can see your eyelids flutter -- at the mention of what? A great white object, letting out its sweet smell, like a Lily of the Valley. The little man’s forgotten its name, but he still remembers the feeling. And look, he moves! The feeling animates him. He instinctively reaches out for the feeling's best friend -- a bottle of Commodore Red. He puts on his disco clothes and gets smaller and smaller...

As you can see, we've opened up the top part of the Thought Cabinet This one is non-negotiable - I equip it immediately.

There's some things we can do now that we've rooted through the dumpster, and since we're already at Kim's Kineema...

COUPRIS KINEEMA - In the cabin you see a set of steering levers, a radio on a hook, a pull-out toolbox and the soft glow of the fuel pre-heater gauge.

"Kim, how do I turn on the headlights?"

KIM KITSURAGI - He turns the pre-heater on, waits, takes out his keys and says: "All right. Ready. I turn, you press START -- it's next to the pre-heater."

EMPATHY [Medium: Success] - He's downplaying his excitement -- the lieutenant is more than happy to show off his precious carriage.

Press ENGINE START.

COUPRIS KINEEMA - The dashboard lights up with orange glow. The rounds per minute gauge jumps and the engine of the Coupris Kineema comes to life with a whiny growl.

Press the button labelled HEADLIGHTS.

COUPRIS KINEEMA - The lights unfold with a little click, casting electrical light onto the ground before the vehicle.

KIM KITSURAGI - "There you go. I'll turn them off from the remote once you're done -- we just need to stand in front of the machine now."

5. Close the door. [Leave.]

INTERFACING - As you hold your ledger's clip under the headlamp, an iridescent hologram appears: a street grid and the veins of a great river. A familiar sensation washes over you...

KIM KITSURAGI - "There she is: Revachol West." There's a note of pride in the lieutenant's voice.

DAMAGED LEDGER - Around the borders of the watermark are dozens, no, *hundreds* of micro-perforations.

Look at the shimmering street grid.

Look at the perforations.

DAMAGED LEDGER - The rectangular watermark is overlaid with the logo of the RCM, and yet the major arteries of Revachol are all recognizable. They shimmer in the Kineema's headlights.

Wait... look around you.

"Where are we on this?" (Point to the halogen map.)

DAMAGED LEDGER - You catch a faint glimmer from a broken beer bottle. In the distance -- sounds. Two men engaged in a drunken argument, followed by the closing of some distant window.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Ah, Martinaise at night," he smells the air and says.

"Where are we on this?" (Point to the halogen map.)

KIM KITSURAGI - "Let me see." He takes the ledger for a moment and inspects it.

"Right here," he says, his finger near the top of the map, on a segment of coast jutting out into the great ocean.

"Seems nice."

"Seems like a shithole."

"I'm sure I've seen worse."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Oh yes. Coal City, Le Royaume, the Burnt Out Quarter..."

2. Look at the perforations.

DAMAGED LEDGER - There are many of them. And they are divided into three separate rows.

Tally up the different rows.

(Let's look at something else.)

DAMAGED LEDGER - The first row has 18 dots.

Not bad.

What about the next one?

DAMAGED LEDGER - Not bad for what? You don't even know what it means yet.

What about the next one?

DAMAGED LEDGER - The next is the longest. It runs all the way around the border and then some.

Count them individually.

DAMAGED LEDGER - There are so many it's hard to count. More than 150, at least. Maybe even 200.

What about the last row?

DAMAGED LEDGER - The last row has three perforations.

Three, that's it?

DAMAGED LEDGER - That's it.

3. "Hey, Kim, what do all these holes mean?" (Point to the dots on the watermark.)

KIM KITSURAGI - "Those are *perforations*. They represent your record as an officer of the RCM. They're your statistics, as it were. I should have guessed you'd keep a record, officers often do. Let's take a look..."

"The first row represents your years of service. *Eighteen* years? Okay -- not bad at all. What did you do before you volunteered?"

"Wait, *eighteen years* I've done this?"

"Got drunk like a megastar?"

"I walked the land telling whores and liars of the End to come. There are 9,855 days remaining."

"I was a hobo and I lived under a boat."

"Probably some boring office job. Same as everyone else."

"I feel like I just went around apologizing all the time."

"Do you really think I have any idea?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "That's what it says. I might've guessed even longer based on your age... what did you do all those blissful years of your youth?"

[mixtapedoh]

Here me out: gunshot, cast bts as movie tropes?

come join my autumn celebration!

ꨄ — gunshot one shot, two shot, three shot, four, 더 견뎌낼 수 없어 나를 위해서라도 너의 gunshot

namjoon as opening a film with a poem (if you know what i mean it makes sense and if you don't it feel self explanatory nonetheless. either narration or text across a screen, if you're opening a film with ~related aesthetic poetry~ those are the vibes. think the opening to wind river. or even just a poetry reading in film in general. that's kim namjoon inspired, bby. if he were to direct a film, he'd start out with a related poem, you cannot convince me otherwise.)

jin as breaking the fourth wall (imo this works better when it's a tv trope and it's paired alongside confessional type humor, or the existence of the camera is baked into the plot so characters know they're being filmed and thus occasionally play to the camera, but i love a silly little self aware moment.)

yoongi as someone playing an instrument matched alongside Intense Plot and Intrigue (you know what i mean!!!!!!!!!!!! when there's something Intense and Plot Heavy happening, and we keep seeing short shots of the High Stakes right alongside a character absolutely pouring their heart and stress into playing the piano or violin (or usually some other string instrument) and the tension crescendos in the most beautiful and delectable batshit insane way, only for our character to abruptly end the song and we hear their laboured breathing and Oh Shit, The Tables Have Turned.)

j-hope as Intentional VHS quality film (sometimes utilized in flashbacks or ~indie films~, you know how sometimes movies will specifically use different quality of film to give something a nostalgic feeling? it doesn't always have to be VHS quality, lol, though i see that one used more, but they specifically go for a more grainy and subdued look for ~vibes~.)

jimin as prophetic dreams (different from a simply psychic character, it's when a character dreams of something vague that actually happens later in the plot and it carries more deja vu vibes than it does "oh, i saw this before and now i am #prepared'. do you get me?)

taehyung as nostalgic memory montage of someone now gone (a classic version is 'dead wife laughing while in bed or at the sea,' lol, but it can literally be anyone either dead or ambiguously gone. bonus points if it's because our main character is visiting home after having left at a young age, or because they're specifically Traveling™)

jungkook as funny one liners (listen,,,,,,,,,,, marvel studios abused this kind of humor, it is true, but occasionally a sarcastic and silly one liner is precisely what the situation calls for. timing is everything, and confidence is the other half of the equation.)

[iviarellereads]

Full TLT series to date thoughts on rereading Harrow the Ninth, chapters 50-Epilogue

A probably semi-regular weekly bonus to my reread blog, since sometimes you realize things on reread that just make you need to yell in a full spoiler space.

The whole unraveling of Dios Apate, Major in 50 is beautifully played out.

Frustrating that I have to label that chapter as "Gideon the First" in my character tags, though, because the Pyrrha reveal doesn't come til a bit later.

But, grabbing the sunglasses. She has to hide her eyes, G1deon's long-thought-lost eyes. I think she knows, at this point, that Gideon is in Harrow's body. Especially at the sight of the gold eyes when she takes the sunglasses. I wonder if she felt a moment of surprise before she played her part in the unwinding of the story. I wonder if she wanted to get to know Gideon, her best friend's namesake, the daughter she could never have of her own, the child who could have been from her other-half's seed. I just love her so much even though she started out as a cop (if John's pieces are to be believed) and I love her making this little moment of connection with Gideon. ;~;

All my questions in the footnotes of my chapter 51 post about how can the Lyctors know about John's power draw go double in this full-spoiler space. I'd love to get my hands on whatever notes may exist on this subject… or about the whole series honestly, but let's not get too ambitious all at once.

Seeing John talk about the Resurrection era with the chaos crew gives me big feelings like… I don't think I believe that John's dream-version in Nona is 100% truth, but I feel like Alecto's book is going to contextualize that versus all of this, everything all together. There's too much about John's existence and relationships with his empire for this not to be an important part of the unraveling process. And I can't wait to reread chapter 51 in particular after reading Alecto.

But Mercy suggesting that John erase her memory with brain surgery… oh honey, he's got better tricks than all that. I'm still convinced he's done it so many times. Something about the interaction with August, just before this, maybe it's just me projecting my expectations and theories but it really reads to me like John knows August doesn't remember, can't remember what he would have said or done before the Resurrection. If John's accounting in Nona is true, then why wouldn't he want his friends to remember? He can tamper with their memories, why couldn't he leave them all intact?

(I still think this supports my multiple resurrections until he got the result (closest to what) he wanted.)

So, John tells us in 52 when he reforms himself from the dust that Dominicus stabilizes with him and there's a chance Sixth got hit badly by a solar flare. I'm still curious how his connection with Dominicus works if Alecto is "only" Earth.

Pyrrha swore loyalty to John as if she were G1deon… Will this come back on her in Alecto? I feel like John's exactly the sort to remember every detail when it comes to betrayal.

This feels like a good place to put my theory on what happened after Harrow 52 with regard to bodies. See, Gideon's body was with the BOE, we know this from As Yet Unsent. Nona, in Harrow's body, is with the BOE, but as we learn later in her book, Gideon's body was sent back to John somehow, or at least into the River where he could collect it again.

My theory is that Gideon's soul, in Harrow's body, was drawn to her own body. The River is everywhere and nowhere, travel through it is an accepted part of the universe of the story. So she dragged Pyrrha and Harrow's body up there, and then… something.

See, Cam/Pal and Pyrrha get real concerned about what's going to happen if Nona makes contact with Gideon's body when they find it again. What I think happened is that Gideon-in-Harrow touched Gideon's flesh-body, something happened (maybe an explosion, maybe a light, maybe just a small pop) and Gideon's body disappeared, along with (obviously) Gideon's soul, leaving behind Harrow's body, with the nascent Nona personality fragment of Alecto, and Pyrrha in G1deon's body, on BOE territory.

Gideon's body is harder to trace after this point, but I assume the pressure of contact with her body made her soul, still partially submerged in the River, drag her body in and merge with it again, leaving Harrow's body, already on the way out of the River, to pop out whole, with Pyrrha as well. I think Alecto's appearance might be Nona-Alecto asserting as Gideon's soul transfers back into her own body, and the resuscitation might be John, or Ianthe. I'm not 100% on what "the wrong voice twice over" could mean in this context unless it's John, as he's linked to Alecto.

Without being able to form mental images it's really hard for me to understand what the scene transition is in Harrow 53, if it's staying in a new, consciously constructed River bubble like Pal's or an actual movement from one place to another. I assume the coffin she ends up in here is the same one that the sneaky preview reading from Alecto featured her waking up in. I'm still curious how she was there and in dreams in Nona. Unless this was more "you're already in the River and nobody has established physics in the River therefore you can do whatever is narratively convenient" which I would honestly respect more than a half-assed explanation in the end.

Unless, this really is a big game of swap-the-bodies. If Gideon swaps back into her own body, and Harrow and Alecto end up swapped for the duration of Nona, since Harrow was present and conscious (somehow??) at the end of Nona. Hmm. This bears thinking about as I continue rereading.