#fic: tst

[updownlately]

too shy to say (but i hope you stay)

| leah williamson x reader | fluff | 3.6k | inspo: come out and play by billie eilish | a/n: got this ask a couple days ago and i just couldn't resist the temptation of grinding this one out! to whoever sent it in, i really hope you're feeling better now and that you like this one!

~~~

You weren’t one to get sick, you really weren’t. In the past handful of years, you could count on one hand the number of times you got sick- flu, cold, food poisoning or otherwise. So when you woke up in the morning, nose all stuffy, a pounding headache making your eyes hurt and the room feeling a bit too hot even for a London summer, you had a gut-sinking inkling of what was going on. 

Slowly sitting up, wincing at the increasing intensity of your headache, the movement only seeming to make it worse. hands lethargically coming to rub away the sleep from your eyes, you reached for your phone. 

7:54 am. Two hours earlier than you need to be up, just great. 

Dropping your phone back onto the nightstand, you contemplated whether going to school or work was even going to be worth it today. You really didn’t want to attend class, already exasperated with the thought of getting ready just to sit in an hour and a half long lecture when you could just take a look at the slide deck online.

Plus work…did you ever really want to go? Sure you had great coworkers and all, but work was work. And the idea of being a human punching bag for customers that were already unhappy with their lives wasn’t something you thought you were capable of today. 

Making the decision then and there, you shot off a quick text to your manager and then your friends, letting them know you wouldn’t be able to make it today.

Tossing your phone aside and sinking back into your sheets, you ignored the slight dampness of your forehead, more content to just hopefully sleep off whatever it was that you had. 

~~~

You hated this. You hated being sick. It hadn’t even been more than a half hour since you had originally woken up, yet here you were again, stuffy nose making it near impossible to breathe comfortably. Oh how you dearly missed when your nose wasn’t plugged. 

Groaning in annoyance, you swallowed audibly, trying to keep your frustration at bay.

The scratchiness of your throat made every second that you were awake painful and all you wanted to do really was sleep, but then the congestion in your chest made that near impossible. Couple the two with the pounding headache and the way your whole body ached and you really didn’t know what to do. All you knew was the it really fucking sucked.

Eyes closing, you quickly ran through what you needed to do in order to get better. Remembering from when you were a teen and had to take care of your brothers, you made a mental list. Painkillers, cough syrup, tissues, sweet caroline- wait? sweet caroline? 

Snapping out of your thoughts, you focused into the present, hearing your phone ringing beside you, the ringtone reserved for a singular special person. 

Picking up the phone, you let a small smile spread across your face at the caller ID.

“Morning Leah.” Your voice came out much scratchier than normal and you silently hoped that the blonde didn’t notice. “Morning love, how are you doing? I hope I didn’t wake you? I was just getting ready to head out, thought I’d ring you.”

You hummed in response, contemplating whether you should tell the English skipper of your current state. You didn’t want her to worry about you, especially not when her own knee issues were currently bothering her. 

“I’m okay. And no you didn’t wake me, in fact I’m glad you called, I was missing you,” you hummed.

No sooner than as the words left your mouth, you could hear Leah going on about something at the other end of the line, continuing the conversation, but you couldn’t pay attention- not when your eyes were involuntarily closing, hearing momentarily pausing as your body geared up to sneeze.

Once, then twice, and then a handful more times, you could feel your whole body jolt with each one, room spinning in between.

It was after your fifth consecutive sneeze that you finally had a moment of reprieve. Gathering your bearings, you brought the phone that you had accidentally thrown to the side back up to your ear.

“Sorry about that, had to sneeze.”

“Really? Couldn’t tell,” the cheeky reply caused you to smile and roll your eyes. “You sure you’re doing okay though? Your voice sounds a bit nasally and while normally that wouldn’t be concerning, you just sneezed like 800 times in a row.

“Ha-ha very funny Ms. Captain. I appreciate your concern but I’m most definitely fine. Just the dust y’know?”

“Hey! Uncalled for…” You could almost feel her pout through the phone, glad that your slight distraction worked, or so you thought.

“Well since you’re doing fine, you wouldn’t mind if I FaceTimed you right now, right?”

“I mean I just woke up, I look terrible so I do mind,”

“Oh shush, I’ve seen you wake up, and must you know, I find the sight quite appealing,”

“Flirt”

“Sicko”

“Allegedly”

You were about to continue your protests of being okay, mouth opening to tell Leah that you were just tired, but a coughing fit cut you off, a dial tone faintly heard in between your sharp inhales.

Just as you got yourself collected, the phone in your hands started buzzing again, this time Leah popping up on your screen, a sweet smile on her face.

“Doing okay huh? Sure Rudolph.”

“My nose can’t be that red, surely? I’ve only been up for about a little bit.”

“Baby you look like you haven’t slept in weeks.”

“Thanks” you grumbled.

Rolling her eyes fondly, Leah continued. “Listen I have to head to rehab soon but after that I’m dropping by, and don’t even try to discourage me.”

“Leah I’m fine, I swear, just woke up on the wrong side of the bed. I’ll be good in a couple hours.”

“Nope…not taking no for an answer. I’ve got to drive out now but you make sure to eat and hydrate okay? I’ll be over as soon as I can. I love you.”

Not having any energy to fight the headstrong blonde, you had no choice but to agree. “I love you too…bye you stubborn skipper.”

Letting leah cut the call, you let out another groan. You didn’t want the footballer to worry about you, very much well aware that she had enough on her plate already. Unfortunately for you, it turns out you and her had something in common, your high levels of stubbornness a shared quality. 

Unwilling to be in such a disheveled state when Leah dropped by in a few hours, you decided to quickly grab a shower and freshen up, to maybe even try and get a few bites of food in so that you could take some medicine. 

Untangling yourself from the warmth of your sheets, you stood up to leave, room immediately spinning faster than the rides at a fair. Today was going to be a long day…

~~~

Eight months into a relationship…is that enough time to be doing this? Leah couldn’t help but ponder that exact question, turning your apartment key in her hands. You had given it to her at the 5 month mark for your relationship, citing it would be helpful in the case of an emergency. She hadn’t used it once though, at least not until now.

See, she would’ve more than happily waited for you to answer your door, but the problem was that you weren’t. After a handful of knocks, a few missed calls, and double-digits of minutes waiting, Leah figured that it would be okay to use it now, right?

Slightly worried for your wellbeing as well, deciding that at worst you’d be a little upset, Leah went ahead and unlocked the door. Better an upset girlfriend than one stuck in a poor situation of any sort.

Slowly easing the door open, the eerie silence of your apartment had the blonde concerned. You weren’t one to live in silence, always having some album or playlist playing through your speakers in the house. It seemed that the sickness was hitting you harder than she had initially thought. 

Placing the grocery bag in her arms onto the floor, the skipper made quick work of her shoes, shutting the door behind her and locking it. 

Quietly padding to the island, she began to empty out the contents of the bag to sort them out. Taking out the items, she laid them out in front of her, trying to recall what item was needed as per the instructions of her mum. 

Grabbing the cough syrup, painkillers, cough drops, a glass of water, and a thermometer, Leah set the items on a tray and started the trek to your bedroom.

She really hoped you had ate by now, well aware of her lack of abilities in the kitchen (listen- she made up for it on the pitch okay?)

Pushing your ajar door open, Leah stepped into your dark room. immediately noticing the stuffiness and then the sight of your curled up figure tucked into one corner of the large bed. 

Slowly walking further into the room, she placed the tray on your nightstand, one that already seemed littered with a handful of different medications, a box of Kleenex, and what appeared to be a glass of apple juice. 

The Englishwoman took a seat on the edge of your bed, hand coming to gently brush against your forehead, pushing your matted baby hairs out of the way. Placing the back of her hand to your now visible skin, like she had experienced her mother do many times with her, Leah felt for a temperature, one that was very apparent from the first few seconds really. You really were, in fact, burning up. 

Picking her phone from out of her joggers, the blonde shot off a quick text to her mother, doubling checking what she was supposed to do to help with bringing it down before clicking it off. Placing it back in her pocket, the skipper figured that as tired as you were, it would be a good idea to wake you up to see if you had at least ate or taken any medication.

Running her thumb softly over your cheek, the other coming to rest on your shoulder, Leah slowly rose you out of your slumber, the gentle ministrations causing you to smile subconsciously.

Waking up in a daze, surprised at the feeling of another’s hands on your face, you immediately went to rub at your eyes, not believing the Leah shaped figure at your side.

“You actually came…” Your voice came out hoarse, disbelief laced in the words, the both of you wincing at the scratchiness, before Leah handed you the glass of cool water.

Sipping gratefully, you nearly emptied the whole glass before turning back to your girlfriend.

“Why wouldn’t I have come? You’re not doing well, I’m not going to have you suffer alone.”

“You might get sick too…”

“Worth it,” she shrugged, as if it was that simple of a solution to potentially getting sick.

“Leahhhh,” you dragged out her name, too sleepy to do anything else to confront her.

“Listen, I know how much you hate being sick, and you don’t get sick often either, so let me take care of you okay? Please? And then when I get sick you can return the favour? How does that sound?”

Shaking your head, you let out a huff. “You’re too stubborn for your own good.”

“You love me for it”

“Yeah, I wonder why sometimes.”

“Only sometimes?”

“Always”

“Good”

“Leah…” you shook your head at her antics, the smile on your face betraying the annoyed facade you had on.

“I love you.” 

You huffed, crossing your arms and choosing not to reply. At your prolonged silence, Leah started poking your cheeks, her fingers gently prodding your face.

“Say it back. C’mon, you have to. Baby…say it back so I can start taking care of you.” 

Sighing in amusement at her persistence and never ending poking, you lethargically reached out to grab her hands, stopping both right before they hit your cheek for the umpteenth time.

“I love you too, you pain.”

Grinning in victory, Leah wiggled her right hand free and patted your cheek. “Okay good. Now, with that done, I need you to open your mouth, gotta take your temperature to see what we’re working with here.”

Saluting her, an “aye aye nurse Leah” escaping your lips, you waited as she prepped the thermometer before placing it carefully in your mouth. 

Wincing as it went under your tongue, your mind flashed back to when your mother would do this to you as a kid, the uncomfortableness of it not escaping you even after nearly fifteen years had passed.

“Everything okay? I didn’t place it down awkwardly or too rough, right?”

You nodded the best you could with the thermometer in your mouth, carefully to not jostle it around too much, heart melting at her attentiveness. Blinking your eyes and turning up the sides of your lips slightly, you hoped that she got the message that you were okay. 

When you took the thermometer out a minute later, the electronic screen read a 38.9º, you knew you nearly had a high fever. 

Checking her phone, Leah confirmed the same.

“Are you asking Google if my fever is high?” you asked, body shaking with slight laughter.

“I-“ A slight blush crossed your girlfriend’s face, one barely visible if it wasn’t for the illumination of her phone. “I had my mum send me a short guide on what I need to do for what situation…I’m just reading that.” she admitted shyly.

“Oh Leah…” you nearly melted, a pout appearing on your face. “I love you.”

Her bashful smile growing into a more confident one, Leah reiterated the sentiment with joy, never one to shy away from reminding you just how much she cared for you.

“Okay so according to this, placing a cool, damp washcloth on your forehead might help with the fever, and so will taking some Paracetamol…speaking of, have you eaten yet?”

You couldn’t help but smile softly at Leah’s rambling and question. You knew the blonde was protective and cared greatly not only for you but for everyone in her life, but getting to be on the direct receiving end of it? it was a feeling like no other, and you were sure that the warmth coursing through your body right now was more than just the fever, Leah’s affection bringing you a sense of comfort even as chills wracked your body.

“I did…had a feeling you wouldn’t want to step into the kitchen so I had a sandwich about…” You checked the time on your phone, “…two hours ago? Is that enough?”

“I’m assuming ideally you’d want to eat within at least the last hour of taking the medicine. You think you’d be up for that?”

“Leah, love, the better question here is whether you think you’re up for cooking, seeing as I don’t have anything ready to eat in my fridge right now.”

“I brought some food with me.”

Throwing your head back in appreciation, the words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop them.“Leah…god I could marry you right now.”

“In sickness and health am I right?” came the cheeky reply almost instantly.

You rolled your eyes in good nature, your smile permanently stuck on your face it seemed, a giddy feeling overtaking you.

“Eventually.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded in response, too afraid you’d ask her to marry you on the spot with the way she was so tenderly taking care of you right now.

Shooting you an award-winning smile, Leah carefully made her way off the bed, going to clean the thermometer and grab the food options that she brought. 

Returning within minutes, she had somehow managed to bring in a whole plate with an assortment of food. 

“Alright, so from what I was told, these would be the best foods for you right now…I’ve got apple slices, a few sandwiches, some assorted cut up fruit- none that will irritate your throat though- and a couple other snacks.”

You couldn’t help but stare at the defender in shock, mind appalled at seeing first-hand the level of effort she had gone through. 

Blinking once, then again, you looked between the food and then back at her, going back and forth a few times before closing your eyes due to the dizziness. 

“Everything okay love?”

“I- you did so much…you’re doing so much…I-,” you stumbled out, not sure how to properly express your gratitude.

“Honey, you deserve to be taken care of, you know that right? I’m just giving you what you deserve. And we both know you’d do the same for me, no hesitation, so let me do it for you alright?” And just like that, the defender knew exactly how to crush all your intrusive thoughts with just a few sentences.

Nodding dumbfoundedly at just how well she knew you, you grabbed a sandwich, unwrapping it and taking a bite.

Swallowing, you used your free hand to grab another sandwich, holding it out to the englishwoman. 

“Have you eaten? I’m assuming with how much effort went into this and the fact that you had rehab, breakfast was the last thing you had?”

Leah took the sandwich in your hands without much protest, confirming your thoughts. 

Between bites, she talked you through what she planned for the next little bit, checking with you on what you needed as well. 

The pair of you eventually decided that you’d have your medication and then let Leah try and lessen your fever with a some damp washcloths, after which the pair of you would likely settle down for a movie, putting as much space as you could between one another to limit the likelihood of transmission (spoiler alert: it really didn’t do much).

Letting yourself be loved, you both quickly finished off the food before cleaning up, Leah taking the tray and the dishes to the kitchen to put those in the sink, and you opening up your windows and tidying your room slightly. 

Just as you made your way back to your side of the bed, Leah came back into the room, arms full of the necessary things required for the lessening of your temperature.

As you watched her quietly get settled beside you, you really couldn’t believe you had gotten this lucky. No one was really there to take care of you besides your stressed mother as a child and thus, you hated being sick, not wanting to burden the already stressed woman. Now though, with the blonde defender that was here, taking care of you in every aspect, not letting you suffer alone, you figured that if it always led to this, that you’d take the lonely days as a childhood in stride in every universe, as long as she ended up in your life.

And as you both finally settled down for a movie, fever waned down enough for it to be considered mild, nearly non-existent, fingers just barely intertwining in the large gap between your two bodies, you let the tiredness in your body settle, the love you had for the other girl calming your anxiety of being stressed, bringing you peace. 

You knew you were lucky, the way Leah knew you so well. How she decided to visit even though you’d be fine alone. How she sensed to bring you food and take care of you, well aware you could manage by yourself but not wanting you to. How she knew to visit, even though you were hesitant to ask. You dearly hoped that this would be your life for a long time, not the sickness but the love, hoping it could grow, the flowers of it creating a garden in your hearts. 

Yawning, you squeezed Leah’s hands three times, a silent ‘i love you’, as you let her presence lull you to sleep, body sated with food and love, just rest left to do. Eyes closing, you silently appreciated her love as she tucked you in, unaware of your half-awake state. By the time the tiredness overtook you, you knew that you’d wholeheartedly do anything for the blonde, just like she had done for you, wanting to be the one she took care of for the rest of her life, wanting to be the one who got to take care of her, to make her smile, to love her to ends of the universe and back. 

Smiles on the both of your faces, the two of you fell asleep partway through the movie, hands slowly itching towards the other, bodies slightly tangling, puffs of breaths in the increasingly smaller space between you two as your limbs found each other, your face eventually tucking into the crook of her neck, her arms wrapping around you. 

Maybe, just maybe, being wasn’t that terrible after all. Not when you had her to take care of you, to love you, to stay when you were too shy to ask.

(And lucky enough for you, you very much got the chance to shower her in as much, if not more love when she inevitably, shockingly, somehow magically, got sick only a few days later. Wonder how that happened…)

[bluntloyalist]

me: sakura haruka has gone through too much he needs to be forever loved and protected and cared for and

also me: [+10 trauma] [+10 trauma] [+5 trauma] [+10 trauma] [+5 trauma]

[danydragons21]

The Shadows That Sing: Chapter 35

Read on ao3 here.

Chapter 35: Reeds

Shock rang through Elain for a steady, pounding moment. Then panic hit her in full force.

“Vassa !” she screamed, the sound echoing throughout the forest. But she knew her friend could not hear her. What was she doing, wasting time screaming? Vassa needed her.

Elain did not allow herself the opportunity to get scared. Instead, she took a deep breath and dove beneath the surface. 

It was dark, much darker than she anticipated, and the water warped everything, twisting and blurring it; even her Fae eyes were having trouble adjusting. Reeds and algae and other underwater growth tried to tangle itself around her limbs. Still, though, she kicked her legs as hard as she could and swam down, relying on Vassa’s faint, quickly-fading scent in the dense water to guide her toward her friend. 

The lake was incredibly deep, far deeper than it looked from above the surface. The deeper she went, the less she was able to see, until finally she could not see anything at all. But then, as if she’d subconsciously willed it, her hands began to glow, fully illuminating the underwater scene before her. 

And what a horrible scene it was. For several dozen feet below her, swimming rapidly in the other direction, large as a ship, was a monster of the worst kind of nightmare. It had the head of a shark and the body of a giant octopus, but to simply describe it as such would be an injustice to its grotesque horror. Bubbling warts and boiling blisters coated the monster’s gnarled skin, which was composed of scales and the color of dried blood; teeth long as her forearm and sharp as daggers protruded from massive, mythical jaws; its tentacles were the width of a tree trunk.

And clutched within one of those pockmarked tentacles, unconscious and pale, was Vassa. 

Elain wouldn’t let herself consider that the Queen was anything but unconscious - of course it was temporary, of course she would be fine - and instead devoted all her energy to stopping the horrendous creature before her. 

The monster either hadn’t noticed Elain’s presence yet or didn’t see her as a threat, because it continued to swim downward, quickly and one-mindedly. But what was it swimming toward? Elain wondered, for the only thing at the bottom of the lake was the bottom of the lake , right? 

Right?

She’d rather not find out, she decided, and raised her hands. A second later, a burst of blinding white light burst forth from her fingertips. 

It missed the creature by an inch, instead crashing into the rocky surrounding with a loud boom. Taken aback, the creature spun around. Its beady eyes narrowed when it saw Elain. It was definitely aware of her presence now. 

However, to her surprise, the sea monster didn’t veer toward her, instead continuing its descent downward, though there was a significant increase in its speed. What was it doing? What did it want with Vassa? And what the hells was at the bottom of the lake that it so desperately wanted to reach?

Well, whatever it was, the creature would never reach it, Elain thought, a snarl forming on her pretty face. Not if she had anything to do about it. Her hands began to vibrate with righteous light and pure, unfettered power. 

This time, her magic hit the monster square in the middle of its scarred dorsal fin.

An eerie, piercing shriek sounded throughout the cave, reverberated through the water and pounded in Elain’s ears with unnatural intensity. She smiled grimly - she had hit her target. 

But her magic hadn’t killed the creature - it had only harmed it. And from the way it turned slowly toward her, its gruesome visage twisted into a deadly expression, she had also angered it greatly. 

With an almighty snap of its sharp and unnervingly long teeth, the monster changed course and made a beeline for the Seer instead, Vassa still entwined in its tentacled grip.

That’s right, Elain thought savagely. Come and get me, you ugly bastard. She threw her magic at the creature once again, missing by an inch. She shot again. Direct hit to the chest. Still, the monster kept coming. The magic instead bounced off the creature’s scales and ricocheted against the wall behind her, shards of rock exploding through the water. The scales that coated its skin appeared to be made of something impervious to her magical prowess.

Panic threatened to crowd her focus, but she wouldn’t let it. She wouldn’t succumb to the fear, no she would not. Because Vassa was her friend, and she was Elain Archeron, and she may not be perfect and she may not be wholly good but she was a damn good friend and she would not be the reason this kind and good and fair queen died. She would not do that to the people of Vassa’s court. To the realm. 

She would not let her friend go. 

The monster was close now, too close. So close she could smell its rancid, rotting flesh; a smell she had only encountered one other time, when she’d been in the conservatory and -

Elain Archeron closed her eyes. There was no time to connect the dots.

Focus , she thought, a stillness washing over her. Breathe . 

She opened her eyes. The creature was nearly upon her. It opened its wide jaws in preparation, and then -

Her magic hit the monster in the dead center of its wicked, beady eye.

An explosion emanated from the depths of the ponds; emanated from the small, brown-eyed female who held the power of worlds within her palms. It filled the pool with a blinding, scorching white light. One second the creature was wide-jawed and dangerous; the next, it was lifeless, its glittering eyes empty and unseeing. Its tentacles flopped uselessly in the choppy wake.

And Vassa, still unconscious, red hair bobbing eerily around her face like a halo of writhing snakes, began to float upward. 

Elain swam and kicked with all her might, reaching her friend in a matter of seconds, ignoring her need for air  - Fae did not have gills, after all, and her energy was quite nearly drained after that massive use of power - but she did not allow herself to rest. Through sheer will and determination, she forced her mind to steady itself. Then, with two hands cupped beneath her friend’s armpits, Elain dragged the queen upward.

Before she reached the surface, she glanced down once more at the depths below. Despite the visual difficulties she’d experienced just minutes before, she could now see perfectly to the bottom of the lake; it was that clear. Almost as if her magic had cleansed the water of all darkness and impurities. 

Then she saw it. An object, lying in the center of the lake, wildly out of place, clearly left for her to see. For her to understand .

Comprehension hit her in the chest like a silver arrow. 

Her eyes widened in terror, but she’d wasted too much time already - there was no time to dwell on the horrible realization she’d just had. Instead, Elain tightened her grip on Vassa and kicked toward the surface with all her might.

No breath had ever tasted as sweet as the one she took when breaking the surface. For a brief moment, she gulped down the night air, savoring the coolness of it, reveling in the expansion in her lungs. 

With some effort, she heaved her friend's soaked body onto the bank of the pond and crawled out after. Then she knelt beside Vassa. The queen’s lips were blue, a stark contrast against her pale skin and the dark red hair plastered against her scalp.

“Wake up, Vassa,” Elain said. She shook her shoulders, softly at first before increasing in intensity.

But the queen did not move.

Shivering and trembling all over (and not just because she was soaked to the bone), Elain bent over and pressed her head to Vassa’s chest. 

Silence answered her. 

“No,” Elain said aloud, sitting straight up. “No,” she repeated, baring her teeth. She was shaking Vassa’s shoulders with absolute vigor now. “No, you can’t, you can’t,” she told her friend, her voice breaking like the waves against the Pentalos shore. But breaking wasn’t an option, not when Vassa needed fixing and only Elain was there to put the pieces back together - the pieces that she herself had caused to fall apart in the first place - 

Elain began alternating between chest compressions and plugging Vassa’s nose while she breathed air into her mouth, just like she’d seen her father do years and years ago to a young stable boy who’d nearly drowned in a pond. The worker boy had been fine, but he hadn’t been beneath the water for nearly as long as Vassa. He hadn’t been snatched by a monster so horrible she’d never even imagined something like it could exist.

“Vassa, wake up,” Elain begged, still pressing her palms desperately against the queen’s soggy chest. Tears began filling her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “Vassa, please, you have to wake up, come on, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

Still, the queen did not stir.

“ No! ” Elain cried out. “Vassa, please !” Tears were now dripping down her cheeks in earnest.

She had to fix this, she had to, but Vassa wasn’t waking up, which could only mean she was -

Clarity hit Elain like a punch to the gut. 

Slowly, hands still trembling, she removed them from her friend’s body. She accepted that was what Vassa was now: a body. Accepted that the Vassa that lay before her was nothing more than a fresh corpse.

But not for long. 

Elain had never before summoned her magic in such sequential, back-to-back occasions, nor in such substantial amounts. She’d never been so drained, so exhausted in her very bones. 

But somehow, at the same exact time, she’d also never felt more alive; never felt more dangerously and intrinsically powerful. Never felt more sure of herself and her abilities.

She closed her eyes and rooted herself in place, allowing her magic to rise within her like the tide.

By the time she returned her hands to Vassa’s chest, they were glowing like the bleached moon that watched them from amidst the starlit sky. 

Elain poured every bit of her remaining strength into her magic. She poured and she poured and she poured, and she did not stop, not even when her vision went spotty and her head started to swim. She did not stop until she felt Vassa shudder beneath her.

The queen gave a great, heaving cough, water sputtering from her throat. Her blue eyes were scared and confused, her breaths were long and ragged, and her heartbeat was weaker than it should have been. But she was alive, she was blessedly and beautifully alive . 

Gasping for air and shaking herself, Elain collapsed onto the damp grass beside Vassa. Instinctively, she curled against her friend’s newly-warmed body. Vassa clutched onto her skin like a lifeline. 

“ Elain ,” the queen rasped, sounding scared and confused and awed, all at the same time.

“S’ okay,” Elain managed to respond, her voice nothing more than a hoarse, tired whisper. Her head was starting to spin ominously; sleep was calling to her in earnest. But there was something she needed to tell Vassa first, something wildly important, something that couldn’t wait -

“What the hells happened?” a voice shouted, shattering the thick quiet of the night. She tried to sit up and see who it was, but she could barely keep her eyes open long enough to make out the trees encircling the clearing, let alone move into a sitting position.

“ Elain! ” Someone else screamed. A pang went through her chest. She didn’t have to open her eyes to know who that was; she’d recognize her sister’s voice in death. And besides, she could taste the thick panic emanating from Nesta.

“Holy fuck, do you feel that?” another recognizable voice said, sounding stricken. “What is that?”

“Vassa!” That was Lucien, she was nearly sure of it. He must not have left for the Autumn Court yet, she thought dizzily, breaths growing deeper and slower. 

Her vision was now going black, the sweet lull of unconsciousness impossible to deny much longer. She knew it was only a matter of seconds before she succumbed to inevitable exhaustion, but just as the thought crossed her mind, someone knelt beside her and grabbed her by the shoulders.

The touch was all too telling. Rough and demanding, yet heart wrenchingly gentle. Panicked, yet incredibly controlled. A contradiction in and of itself. It was the only touch in the world that could give her the strength of will to force her weary eyes open.

It was him. Of course it was. Of course it was , and he was just as perfect as ever, his kind and handsome face gazing down at her with an expression so worried, so abject, that it must be love. And he had come for her. Just like before. Just like he’d sworn he always would. A thousand centuries, he’d said, that first afternoon in Rosehall. A thousand centuries, and he’d come for her every time. 

Did he know she would do the same? Did he know there was nothing she wouldn’t do and nowhere she wouldn’t go to ensure his safety? To keep him by her side, where he belonged?

This was the last coherent thought Elain had before she closed her eyes and let sleep swallow her whole. 

***

Azriel had lost count of how many times he’d thrown Truth-Teller at the same spot of the tree trunk. He was sure his shadows were keeping count - they were the ones fetching the dagger each time, after all, and had impeccable observation skills - but he wasn’t interested in knowing. 

He’d been standing in the clearing for several hours - the same clearing with the same lake that had swallowed Elain and Vassa and then spit them out. The same lake that used to hold a monster, though Rhys had seen to pulverizing the thing’s carcass two days ago.

Two days. It had been two days, and both Elain and Vassa had yet to wake up from whatever stupor they were both stuck in. Suffice it to say, it had been 48 hours of inexplicable agony for the shadowsinger. 

While the healers insisted that both women would be fine - that their bodies were recovering the best way they knew how, and they’d both wake up soon enough - Azriel knew he wouldn’t be able to relax until Elain opened her big, brown eyes and smiled at him. Only then would the knot of terror that had wedged itself in his chest unloosen. Only then would he stop throwing Truth-Teller at the same spot of the same godsdamn tree trunk.

A shadow curled up to his ear, telling him what Azriel had scented the very same moment - he was no longer alone in the clearing.

“Care to share why you’re here?” Azriel got straight to the point, not bothering to turn around. He didn’t feel like talking right now, and Cassian knew it. He didn’t feel like talking to anyone. Not until Elain woke up. 

Not until he knew she was going to be okay.

For whatever reason, a memory from centuries ago, from when he was just a child, flashed through his mind right then. It was a conversation he and his mother would have nearly every time he was forced to leave Rosehall:

“I’m scared, Mommy,” he’d say.

“That’s okay, darling,” she’d reply. “That doesn’t mean you can’t be brave, too. Fear and bravery go hand in hand.”

Fear and bravery go hand in hand, the words echoed.

Gnashing his teeth, he threw the dagger yet again. It missed the center by several inches.

“It’s nice to know some things never change,” Cassian commented as Az’s shadows retrieved the knife.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Whenever you’re stressing over a woman, your technique gets sloppy.”

Quick as a snake, Azriel threw the dagger right at his friend’s face.

“And slow ,” the Illyrian General added, intercepting the dagger with obnoxious ease and tossing it back to Azriel by the hilt.

“Say why you’re here or leave me alone,” the shadowsinger said, his voice deceptively calm. He threw Truth-Teller again. This time, it hit its target perfectly, quivering in place afterward.

Cassian sighed heavily. “I came to get you,” he said.

“I’m on guard duty. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re going to want to come for this.”

“For what?” Az asked despite himself, glancing back at his brother. The long-haired Illyrian was watching him carefully. Too carefully.

“The healers said she should be awake any minute now.”

Azriel froze. “What did you say?” he asked in a deathly quiet voice.

Cassian regarded him carefully, then gave a tentative and strangely encouraging smile. “Elain is about to wake up, Az. I figured you’d want to know.”

He took in the news. He processed it. And when the truth finally sunk in, the Mother herself couldn’t have stopped the wide smile from blossoming across his face. He didn’t even care that Cassian could see. He didn’t care at all.

She was awake, and that was all that mattered.

***

Someone was calling her name.

Elain , the voice said, soft and sweet.

She didn’t know where it was coming from. Above her, behind her, inside of her - it didn’t matter. It was there all the same. 

Seer , it sang, tempting as a siren. Kingslayer , it cooed, like something from a nightmare.

What do you want? Elain asked, sounding braver than she felt. 

What I’ve wanted from the very beginning , the voice taunted. This time, it was clearly coming from behind her. She turned - there was no one there. 

But then the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and she just knew whoever - whatever - was speaking to her was right behind her, truly this time, and then the voice whispered a chilling question directly into her ear - 

Elain Archeron opened her eyes.

After a few blinking, blurry moments, a striking golden head swam into focus.

“Took you long enough,” Mor murmured, grinning down at her, but there was an odd strain to the blonde’s smile. 

“How long have I been out?” Elain croaked. Hells, her throat was on fire. She sounded like a male bullfrog.

“Two days,” Mor said apologetically. 

Grimacing, Elain accepted the glass of water the other female offered her, gulping it down in a single swig. Mor refilled it for her once, then again, then again. Several glasses later, Elain finally set the glasses aside. 

“Where is everyone else?” she asked, her voice sounding semi-human now.

“Waiting for you,” Mor answered. “Are you ready?”

Elain blinked. “Ready for what?”

Mor raised an eyebrow. “For the inquisition,” she answered ominously. “Everyone has, oh, about a thousand questions for you and Vassa.”

She hoped the blonde couldn’t see her heavy swallow. 

Five minutes later, Elain once again found herself in the grand atrium, seated at the long oak table. There had been a flurry of hugs and kisses and thank the gods you’re okays when she’d first arrived - Azriel had even embraced her in front of everyone, albeit quickly - but now everyone was staring at her expectedly, waiting for her to begin telling her story.

However, she had a few questions of her own first.

“Where’s Vassa?”

“Still asleep,” Nesta answered. “The healers say she’ll be waking up any minute now.” 

Elain nodded, unsurprised. She didn’t know how to explain it, but she already knew that Vassa was and would be perfectly fine. Like she could sense her friend’s wellbeing as much as she could sense her own now. 

“How did you know we were in trouble?” she asked.

“We heard the explosion,” Lucian answered. 

“It was hard to miss,” Jurian said dryly. 

Elain bit her lip and glanced down. “Oh.” 

“Tell us everything,” Feyre said, her voice quiet but commanding. “From start to finish.”

The Seer was silent for a long moment. What was she to tell them? The truth - or only parts of it? How could she give them the entire story without disclosing the full scope of her powers?

She wished she could have spoken to Vassa alone before this bloody interrogation. She was sure her friend would be more than willing to keep this secret if asked, especially since Elain had just saved her damn life. Though, of course, had Elain not so foolishly suggested a midnight romp in the woods, her friend mightn’t have needed saving in the first place. 

“Elain,” Feyre said quietly.

“Give her a second,” Azriel snapped. “She just woke up, for gods’ sake.”

“It’s alright,” Elain replied after a moment, rather breathlessly. The shadowsinger had just defended her publicly, and it filled her with enough confidence to answer her sister’s question - though with some key details omitted. 

“Months ago, Vassa and I talked about swimming in the lake out in the woods. Vassa used to go there all the time before - ” she cut herself off. It wasn’t her place to talk about the queen’s trauma with Koschei. “Anyway, tonight, we decided to actually do it. But moments after we jumped into the lake, Vassa was pulled beneath by - by a -” she broke off, barely restraining a shiver. “I don’t actually know what it was.”

“You were attacked by a luska,” Feyre said. “I recognized it immediately when Rhys disposed of its carcass.”

“A luska?” Elain repeated. “What’s that?”

“A giant half-shark, half-octopus hybrid that can travel at breakneck speeds and change colors to match its surroundings,” Feyre answered readily. “Despite its massive size, it can warp its body just so that it can worm into small crevices, underground caves, rugged seabed, shallow water - you name it. Luskas are incredibly dangerous. Hardly anyone survives an attack from one, let alone kills one.”

“How do you know all this?” Nesta asked, sounding slightly awed. “I’ve never even heard of one until two days ago!”

“I read about it,” Feyre answered.

“Impressive,” Nesta remarked.

Feyre went slightly pink; compliments from Nesta were as precious as they were rare. 

“Well, what happened next?” Lucien asked impatiently. His eyes were noticeably bloodshot; he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. 

Elain hesitated for just a second. This was the part where she’d have to tell some selective truths.

“I dove in after her. I swam down, deep into the lake, where the monster was dragging her away. I started just - just screaming at it until eventually it changed direction and headed toward me. I truly don’t know why I thought that would help, and I certainly don’t know what I was planning to do when it did notice me. I just knew I had to do something.

Then, when it started coming at me in earnest, I was so sure it was going to swallow me whole, but suddenly there was this huge flash of light and it just… died .”

“It just died ?” Cassian echoed hoarsely, his normally bronzed visage rather pale. “But how did it die?”

“I’m not sure,” Elain answered, semi-honestly. Just because she knew she had the gift of life didn’t mean she understood how it all worked. “I got lucky, I suppose,” she finished with a lame shrug.

“It wasn’t luck that defeated the luska,” said Feyre quietly. “It takes an incredibly powerful being to defeat an ancient monster like that.”

“What are you implying?” Jurian asked. 

“You think someone else was down there with them?” Mor asked, eyes wide. 

“It’s the only logical explanation,” said Feyre. Her grey-blue eyes met Elain’s wide brown ones. “Did you see anything suspicious? Do you remember anything strange?”

She thought again about the object she’d seen lying on the lake floor, grateful at that moment that Azriel had taught her how to keep up her mental shields all those months ago.

“No,” she answered. “No, I didn’t notice anything like that.” She was proud of herself for maintaining steady eye contact with her sister the whole time, her face even and open, not feeling guilty in the slightest. Some secrets weren’t meant for more than two people, and what Elain had seen at the bottom of the lake - well, that was a message just for her. What difference would it make for them to know about it?

“She’s lying,” someone said quietly. 

Her head spun around. It was Lucien who had spoken. He was leaning forward slightly, a dark, foreboding look in his one good eye. 

And Elain didn’t need to use her seer powers to sense that everything between her and Lucien - everything between her and everyone - was about to change.

“It wasn’t someone else who defeated the luska,” he said. “It was Elain.”

___

A deep, resounding silence followed Vanserra’s declaration. 

Everyone around the table looked puzzled, as if they weren’t comprehending what the red-haired male was suggesting. Even Azriel, who knew perfectly well that Elain was capable of defending herself against the creature, was having trouble comprehending the turn the conversation had taken.

“Are you suggesting she took down a luska…with her seer powers?” Nesta asked, frowning in confusion.

“No,” Vanserra continued, an awful bite of impatience in his voice. “Her other powers. The ones she’s been hiding.” 

Azriel blinked. A strange numbness was spreading through him.

“Stop,” Elain said, her perfect pink lips barely moving; there was a wild, frozen look about her. 

“What are you talking about?” Feyre asked.

“She has far more magic than just seer magic,” Vanserra said through gritted teeth. “But that’s not important right now. Keep going. What happened next? What happened to Vassa?”

“Back the fuck up, Vanserra,” Nesta snarled, silver flames burning in her grey-blue eyes. “You don’t get to decide what is or isn’t important right now. ” Her fiery gaze turned toward Elain. “What the hells is he talking about, Elain? What other powers?”

When Elain didn’t say anything, Vanserra spoke again.

“Tell them,” he said. 

Across the table, Elain let out an unintentional noise, like something a wounded animal would make. “Lucien,” she said, her voice raw, “ stop. ”

“ No ,” Vanserra said fiercely. “This isn’t something you can keep a secret. Not anymore. Not now that this has happened. Tell them the truth .”

The numbness in Azriel continued to spread, joined by a ringing in his ear. Vanserra couldn’t possibly be talking about…there was no way Elain would have told him about her…

“Elain? Is there something you want to tell us?” Mor asked quietly.

The middle Archeron sister remained silent, though she rather tellingly clasped her hands behind her back.

“If you don’t tell them, I will,” Lucien threatened.

Her brown eyes went wide, and everyone could scent the rise of her panic. “Lucien, please .”

Lucien, however, seemed undeterred, something fiercer than anger crackling through him. “I swear to the gods, I will,” he said, baring his teeth. “ Tell them. Now. ”

The look she shot at the red-haired male could only be described as betrayal. “Fuck you,” she hissed, angry tears shimmering in her eyes. But then she turned to her sisters, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin. 

Bravery and fear go hand in hand, his mother whispered to him again.

“It wasn’t someone else who defeated the luska.” A deep swallow worked its way down her slender throat. “It was me.” 

A deep, resounding silence echoed in her confession’s wake, leaving everyone reeling as they processed what most of them were hearing for the first time. 

Azriel, however, was reeling at a very different realization.

Vanserra knew about Elain’s powers? How? Or, more precisely, why ? Because of course Elain had to have told him; no one else besides himself knew. Not her sisters, nor their mates. Not Vassa. Not any other member of the Night Court. 

But Vanserra knew. Vanserra . Before any of the others, she’d told him this significant secret. And as to the answer of why…well, it must be because she trusted the Autumn Court princeling. Because she cared about him. 

Even though a small part of his brain knew that Elain had trusted him first, had told him, Azriel, before anyone else…he couldn’t focus on that. All he could think of was how big of a deal she’d made when first sharing her powers with him. How he’d made a fucking bargain vowing to keep the truth of her powers quiet. 

But apparently she trusted Vanserra enough to not only tell him about her magic, but to tell him without requiring such similar promises be made. 

He could feel Elain trying to catch his gaze; like always, he was hyper aware of her presence, of her every move. But unlike always, he had no desire whatsoever to look at her. 

Something worse than shame, worse than guilt, was coursing through his veins. He felt played. Deceived. He felt like the biggest fucking idiot on the planet. He felt like cutting off all of Vanserra’s hair and stuffing it down the High Fae’s throat till he choked. 

Mostly, he felt like his heart was breaking, though he knew that couldn’t be quite accurate; he didn’t have a heart to break, you see.

There was nothing else for it but this: she did not trust him. And right now, he did not trust her, either.

And in that moment, and for a shameful amount of moments that followed, he resented Elain Archeron for it.

Before anyone could say anything, the doors to the room were thrown open. Through them, wearing a tartan dressing robe, her red hair wild and untamed, a look of queenly determination in her bright eyes, was Vassa.

This meeting is over, she announced. I need to talk to Elain. Alone.

***

Elain sat on a velvet chaise in Vassa’s quarters. No tears ran down her cheeks; no passion fueled her spirit. She wasn’t even angry; not even toward Lucien, who’d betrayed her secret. In the wake of the revelations revealed in the throne room, all she felt was empty.

“You may leave us now,” the queen told her handmaidens. They bowed and left the room.

Vassa let out a great sigh. Slowly, she made her way over to the opposite chaise, dropping down into it with the weariness of a woman half-a-century her senior. 

Finally, the queen looked at Elain. 

“Are you alright?” she asked quietly. 

“No,” Elain replied in a rasping voice. She was the furthest she’d been from okay in a long, long time. “But that's not why you want to speak to me, is it?”

“No, it’s not.”

They were both quiet for a long time.

“It’s time I tell you what I should have told you a long time ago,” Vassa said. 

A spark of something flared in Elain. For weeks now, all she’d wanted was for Vassa to be honest with her. Now, though, on the tail-end of losing one of her own, most valued secrets…did she really want to know what Vassa had to say? Secrets were weapons all their own -  was Elain ready to face the potential blaze of ruin the sharing of this secret could ignite?

Unbidden, her thoughts turned to another secret, one she’d just gained - and one she still hadn’t lost. One that was, for now, only hers. She thought of what she’d seen; thought of the teasing, taunting message left there. She could see it so clearly, even now, lying on the rocky lake floor, crisp and newly-trimmed and blood-red in color, its perfectly full petals swaying delicately in the current.

She thought of the question the disembodied, reedy voice had whispered into her ear, during what she was not quite so sure was a dream anymore:

"Did you like the rose?" 

The spark in her turned into a steady, flickering flame. 

“Do your worst,” Elain said. “I’m ready.”

Tags (LMK if you'd like to be removed or added!)

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[simplywylan]

hehehehe i am back 😎

nah fr i need some good newtmas fic recs, i'm so desperate to find some really good ones atm and i cant seem to find any

[tmrsunset]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner, The Maze Runner (Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Mary Cooper/Ava Paige (Maze Runner) Characters: Mary Cooper (Maze Runner), Ava Paige (Maze Runner) Additional Tags: Introspection, Drabble, i thought about this ship for more than 5 seconds and then this happened, Post-Break Up, Betrayal, well. ava sees it as betrayal, Canon Compliant, Book/Movie 2: The Scorch Trials Summary: Ava thinks about Mary. And vengeance.

for @themazewomen bingo; prompt: vengeance

[subjecta5theglue]

ok, question...

i know i don't have many followers (plus this blog is new), so i doubt people will read this, but would anyone be interested in me uploading a maze runner fic on ao3? (my username is wonderlandianfantasy but i havent uploaded anything yet)

i've already written most of it and would hate to put it to waste, but i don't know how to upload it because there are two options:

it can either be a slightly long one-shot with sections, in which case you'd need to wait a little for me to finish writing it

OR

i can upload it in really short chapters, but i'm talking like, really short. but then i could upload the first chapter now and you'd get to see it!!

if you're wondering, the fic is a newtmas and brenderesa fic themed around winter, featuring thomas and teresa being besties, newt and frypan being roommates, thomas sucking at uno, and brenda being a crazy cat lady.

lemme know what you think and then i'll decide :)

[inquisitoracorn]

WIP whenever Ch17 - One and done

I feel the urge to post and oh boi has it been a good writing session lately. Thanks for tagging me @johaeryslavellan and @blarrghe! Gonna tag forth @morganlefaye79, @noire-pandora, @cleverblackcat, @knuttydraws and @melisusthewee to share your latest things with me if you feel like it!

It's happening. I've written it. It's too late to stop me.

The waitress placed a flagon of something that looked and smelled vaguely like ale in front of both of them, and Jonathan flicked a glance between his two drinks.

“Pour that swill on the floor, this one’s way better,” Tethras said as he took a healthy swig. Jonathan did not, in fact, pour it on the floor, but did trust Tethras enough to take a full swig of this second drink. He also did feel betrayed when he sputtered on it as if he’d drank tar. Tethras chuckled knowingly.

“You said it was better,” Jonathan choked out as he cleared his throat.

“Yes, still swill though,” the dwarf quipped and had another drink. “And that is precisely the reaction of someone who likes to read travel novels.”

The dwarf was looking at him with a mixture of amusement and expectation, and Jonathan idly thought he should probably feel offended - or that he expected him to be - but he ignored that in favour of seeing if he could guess what he had really meant. Jonathan asked for clarification.

Perhaps the author took the curiosity in his tone as encouragement, or wanted to try and rile him up, “Sheltered young noble comes out of the gilded pillow fort and chooses the seediest establishment to get a taste of real life,” he said bluntly, punctuating his statement with another gulp of ale. “He finds it vile.”

That got a chuckle out of Jonathan, who remembered his earlier assessment of the floors. Nodding, he conceded, “That comes through, doesn’t it? Small wonder. Though I assume the young noble in your example would hardly choose to explore real life surrounded by six personal guards.” He glanced a look around the table, at his soldiers who were trying their best not to listen in, and at the captain, who was still talking to the tavern owner. “In any case, I’m not sure we’ll be here for much longer, serah.”

Tethras let out a scoff that might have translated to ‘predictable’, “Is it the select clientele, charming bar keep, or delectable house wine that put you off, Lord…?”

“Trevelyan,” he responded mechanically, “and I think it’s rather the lack of available spaces that will see us out. And this – it can’t be - this isn’t the house wine!”

He felt a little like a fool when the dwarf threw his head back in laughter, “Are you so sure? In any case, saves me from suggesting that myself. The hosts aren't picky with their guests, trust me. In different circumstances, they’d be perfectly willing to throw a few people out in the street for someone like you. Sadly, heavily armoured soldiers tend to put people off these days in this part of Lowtown. Or any part of Lowtown. But they’re bound to be useful wherever you’re going.”

The rumours out of Kirkwall had been concerning for a while, but it wasn’t unlike the Ostwick papers to exaggerate news about the welfare of their neighbours, be it good or bad, depending on their relations. With Kirkwall being the closest other port, well… Jonathan had just assumed… “Lately, you say?”

Should have included a fair warning about Varric being called 'Tethras' in Jonathan's head for the whole thing. It's very disturbing :)))

[firsttraintovictoriaville]

Found a fascinating interview from a Jewish online paper with the Jewish co-founder of The Satanic Temple and literally the entire comment section is filled with Christians quoting New Testaments verses to denounce Satanism, bro no one even cares about you 💀

[capnhanbers]

Thank you for writing it! Haven't read alot of fanfiction myself, but I might look more into it thanks to your story!! Also, chapter 126 rocked!! Thank you!!!!

WAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUGH man i appreciate that so much thank YOU!!!!!!

[updownlately]

Can i ask for a request??

I don’t have a song to base it on tho

But currently im sick at home with the flu can you do something with Leah being all cute and taking care of reader who is by herself at home?(im home alone and i would love to have someone take care of me😅)

Thank you 🥰

Ello! Absolutely!

Had a ton of fun writing this one! I had so many ideas the second I saw this in my inbox and this was the fic I was grinding out last night!

Fic should be up shortly! :)

Btw I hope you're doing better now amigo! Take care! 🫶

(also ps: you don't need to always have a song to base it off of, it's dope if y'all do and dope if y'all don't! im excited to receive a req of any sort, song based, prompt based, or just an idea that crossed your mind!)

[pathsofoak]

Group B my beloved

[danydragons21]

The Shadows that Sing: Chapter 36

Read on ao3 here.

Chapter 36: The Story of the Seer

“Do you remember when I told you about the Fae who trapped Koschei?” Vassa asked.

A slow, wary nod from Elain as she recalled the story Vassa had told her so many months ago. 

“That Fae’s name was Katiya,” Vassa continued. “She was an ancient member of one of the earliest Fae tribes known to history, the Celians, a people renowned for their unique magical abilities, powerful warriors and strong military presence. 

“And it was because of their fearsome reputation that Koschei decided it would be amusing ,” her face twisted into a sneer, “to terrorize the Celians. To show them that their strength was nothing compared to his. Over the course of several months, Koschei would enter the town at night, possess the soul of some unsuspecting being, and force them to kill themselves before releasing control of their soul.” 

A sharp gasp escaped Elain’s throat before she could stop it. The following silence was so loud. 

“Can you imagine?” Vassa asked quietly. “Waking up to find that your neighbor, or your friend, or your sibling, or your lover, or your child had killed themselves during the night? Can you imagine going to sleep every evening praying to the gods that it would not be anyone you cared about? Praying it would not be you ?

“Can you imagine knowing that it was going to keep happening and being powerless to stop it?”

Elain’s entire body felt numb with horror. No, she could not imagine. It was perhaps the most sinister, horrendous act of psychological violence she’d ever heard.

“During Koschei’s reign of terror, he killed over two-thirds of the Celian population - males, females, children, it did not matter. It was all a game to him. One he was easily winning, and he knew it.

“But what he did not know was that the Celians had a secret weapon.” Vassa’s dark expression grew brighter, fiercer, like the ignition of a flame. “ Katiya . The Seer of the Celians.”

“She was a seer?” Elain breathed. She was frozen in place listening to Vassa speak. The queen might not possess any magical powers, but her gift of storytelling was an enchantment all its own.  

“Yes,” Vassa said. “A very gifted one, at that, and one of the first seers this universe ever knew. Thankfully, Koschei was unaware of her abilities. And it was this ignorance that eventually led to his downfall. 

“You see, for a long time, the Celians did not know who or what was behind the surge of suicides. It was more terrifying that way, to be blinded so completely by the threat that haunted them. But once they figured out that Koschei was using soul possession to commit the murders, they were able to form a plan.”

“A plan that involved Katiya?” Elain interjected. 

“Exactly,” Vassa said. “Because of Katiya’s powers, Koschei’s soul manipulation did not work on her. No one knows why or how seers have always been able to resist soul control, but they have. And though it took several months, when Katiya finally realized that she alone was able to keep him out, that she alone was able to keep her soul and her mind entirely her own - that is when the tides turned on Koschei.

When she realized this, she was able to hone her powers and foresee his plan to hide his soul. And so she ventured alone to stop him. Thank the gods she was successful in both banishing the Death Lord to the Lake he now resides and hiding the piece of his soul.”

“But how did she do it? How did Katiya banish him to the Lake?” 

The queen swallowed, her face ashen. “Katiya was able to trap Koshei in the lake because of the other powers in her arsenal. You see, the Celians are also Blood Oracles. A Blood Oracle is -”

“I know what it is,” Elain said, her lips numb. Pieces were falling into place, and she felt as if the truth was circling around her, closer and closer and closer. Any minute now it would consume her entirely. 

“When she used her significant powers together, she was able to foresee Koschei’s every step, and when he was at his weakest - in the few moments of limbo when he separated his soul to obtain true immortality - she trapped him at the Lake, and took the piece of soul, hiding it somewhere she knew he would never find it.”

“So where is it hidden now? You said the soul was in a box, right? Where is the box?” 

And then a more pressing question occurred to Elain. “How the hell do you know all this, Vassa?” 

“I know all this because Katiya is my ancestor.”

“What?”

“Yes. I am a descendant of the Celians.”

“But you’re human.”

“I am. The magic in my bloodline disappeared a long, long time ago, a result of Fae and humans interbreeding. But if you follow the lineage back far enough, you’ll find that it is the truth. I, and my entire family, are descendants of some of the earliest Fae known to our world. 

“And the knowledge of Koschei’s hidden soul has existed in our family since before I was born. It is our most guarded and honored secret. And it is this secret that I have kept from you.”

“Are you telling me that you’ve known where his soul is this entire time?” Elain breathed. And then her voice grew harder, more urgent. “Where is it, Vassa? Tell me!’

“I will tell you. But before I do…” the queen swallowed heavily. “I know you will hate me after this. I know there will be no going back. But I do want you to know that I never wanted to hurt you. That I have spent my life trying to protect those I care about, protect the innocent, and I really thought keeping this from you was the right thing to do. Until it wasn’t.”

“Tell me,” Elain said, and even she was surprised at the cold command in her voice.

“When Katiya took the piece of Koshei’s soul, she returned to Celia, to the remainder of her people. They were faced with the task of destroying it - but they found that they could not. While Katiya had succeeded in fooling and trapping Koshei in the lake, there was no magic, even when all the Celians used their consider powers together, that could damage the soul at all, let alone destroy it entirely. Souls are resilient, you see; even that of a monstrous Death Lord.

“So they decided that if they could not destroy it, they would have to hide it. But where do you hide such an important, sought-after object? Koschei was - is - so powerful. He can control animals and peoples, the weather and the wind, and while he is unable to obtain the piece of his soul while he resides at the Lake, Katiya and the Celians knew it was only a matter of time before he found a way to escape. It seemed inevitable that he would then find his soul, too, no matter how well they hid it, no matter how long it took him.

“Unless, of course, they hid it in the one place they knew he could not find it. A vessel that, for reasons unknown, was wholly immune to Koschei’s powers.”

Elain’s mouth was dry. “I don’t understand.”

The sympathetic look on Vassa’s face intensified. She looked nearly pained. “The Fae of the Celian tribe performed an ancient spell that concealed the part of Koshei’s soul, the part that keeps him alive against all odds, within Katiya herself. Within the seer whose magic alone could withstand Koshei’s.

“And when Katiya died, that piece of his soul was transferred to another immortal. And when that Fae died, it was transferred to another one. And then another one.

“You see,” Vassa said quietly, her voice tremulous, “there is only ever one seer in the universe at a time.”

“No,” Elain whispered as understanding began to tighten its cruel fingers around her throat.

“Yes,” Vassa said, closing her eyes. “The piece of Koshei’s soul is entwined with the soul of the Seer, traveling from being to being, embedding itself in whoever possesses omniscient powers at the time. And right now, Elain, that being is you.”

Unconsciously, Elain shook her head, unable to accept what she was hearing, even as the magic inside of her sang in recognition of the truth.

“For a very long time,” Vassa continued, the words spilling quickly from her mouth, as if now that she’d started the story, she could not stop, “Koschei did not know that the Seer carried his soul. The Celians themselves started the rumor that the soul was hidden in a box that was kept somewhere far off and well-protected. Koschei believed this lie for centuries. I still am not sure how or when he found out the truth.

“But I think it’s safe to say, given his unparalleled and relentless interest in you, Elain, that he knows now that the key to finding his soul is the universe’s only Seer. Whether or not that means he knows the soul actually resides within you, I cannot say. I would assume that he doesn’t know that particular piece of information, or else he would not have let you go during your last run-in. But Koschei is a game player, and he is full of tricks and deceit. We would be fools to think he does not have a greater plan in action.”

“But what does this mean?” Elain asked, her lips as numb as the rest of her. “What does this mean for…,” she trailed off, gesturing weakly at herself.

“For your life? For your soul?” Vassa clarified. “Your soul is your own, Elain - Koschie’s soul simply exists alongside it. But souls are a finicky business. I don’t know how much the presence of his soul has affected your own, and vice versa. I don’t know if extracting his soul would damage your own - nor how that would even be done, nor how that would affect your actual life.” The queen swallowed thickly. “But I think it is safe to assume that, if Koschei were to ever take back his soul from where it is safely hidden now - inside of you - he would not do so gently. And he would not leave you alive after the deed was finished.”

"But then how can we destroy him? If the piece of his soul still lives inside of me, then without taking it out, is there any chance of finishing him for good?"

Another heart-wrenching silence.

"I'm afraid that, as long as his soul resides safe and sound within you, there is not chance of defeating him," Vassa said finally.

Finally - the truth. Well, she’d asked for it, hadn’t she? Be careful what you wish for, indeed. 

What she was feeling right now wasn’t quite fear. Ever since Koschei cornered her in the conservatory, ever since he implied that Elain knew where his soul was, she’d suspected that his reasons weren’t entirely unfounded.

She just had no idea how incredibly accurate they’d turn out to be. 

“You’ve known this all along?” asked Elain, unsurprised to hear her voice crack. “You’ve known from the very beginning that there is no box, that the seer is the keeper of the missing piece of his soul?”

Vassa closed her eyes and nodded once.

“You lied to me,” Elain said. 

“Yes”, Vassa replied simply, tears glittering in her eyes. “I lied to you. Just as you lied to me.”

Elain’s mouth fell open. 

“You think I don't know you came here to spy on us all? To figure out what I was hiding from the Night Court?”

“That’s different,” Elain breathed. 

“Is it?” The queen’s lip curled. “I did not tell you the truth because I wanted to protect my people - and you. I thought not knowing would keep you safer. I’m not excusing what I’ve done. I have misled you from the start, and I will always be sorry for it. But I do not want to lie anymore, and I want you to be able to make whatever decision you want. All because I care about you and your happiness.

“Can you say the same? Can you look me in the eye and tell me that spying on me and those in my kingdom was done with my best interests at heart?”

“I did it for my court. For the safety of those I love and the citizens in my care,” Elain said coldly. “And I’d do it again if I had to.”

Vassa looked her up and down. “You would make a great queen, you know,” she remarked after a beat. Elain blinked in surprise. 

“If there is one thing I have learned during my time on the throne,” Vassa continued, “It is this: Much of the time - no, most of the time - leading is nothing more than taking two horrible choices and choosing. There is not always a right and wrong answer. Things are never black and white.

“You made a choice when you came here to try and find information that would help those you care about. Just like I made a choice to keep the truth of your affinity to Koschei a secret until I knew I could trust you with it. 

“We both lied to each other. I think it’s possible that I have lied, at some point, to everyone I’ve ever loved. But that does not mean I love them any less. That does not mean I would not lay down my life for them.” Vassa’s eyes were bright with emotion and fevered promise. “You have been a true friend to me these past few months, Elain. We may have kept secrets from each other, but every ounce of affection and friendship we shared was real. You have to know that is the truth.”

The truth. What an innocuous yet infuriating word. Elain was not sure she believed there was such a thing as truth anymore - at least not in the boiled-down essence of the word. Truth implies purity and honesty; it should be portrayed in black and white; it should provide clarity over confusion.

But she knew better now. No, the truth was an obscure, ambiguous, capricious little beast that hid in the shadows and twisted and transformed until it was no longer recognizable. It looked like one thing to one person and it looked entirely different to another, a dynamic and ever changing entity that could never be pinned down. 

She had craved the truth for so long, but now that she had it, she found that it had spun her entire world off its rickety, precarious axis. Now that she had it, she didn’t understand why she’d ever desired it in the first place.

The truth was nothing more than a disappointment.

“The truth?” Elain repeated back. “If we’re speaking truths here, Vassa,” she continued, her voice low and icy, “How about you tell me the truth of your feelings for Lucien?”

Vassa stiffened. “Excuse me?”

“You love him, don’t you?” Elain asked. “That is the truth of your heart. Isn’t it?”

Vassa’s fingers had started to tremble. “I don’t understand why this matters,” she whispered, an uncharacteristic meekness about her. 

For whatever reason, the queen’s meek demeanor infuriated her all the more. 

“Of course it matters!” Elain was not surprised to find that her voice had risen considerably. Anger, at Vassa and at the entire unfairness of the world, at the knowledge that her soul’s fate was entwined with that of a death lord’s was dictating her every move. Heart racing, she continued on, clearly and recklessly crossing the line drawn in the sand. “Did you keep this from me because you want him? Because you wanted to remove me from the equation, destroy the mating bond, so you could have him for yourself?”

A look of dark fury spread across Vassa’s expression, the likes of which Elain had never before seen. “How dare you,” she hissed. “How dare you suggest I could ever do something so hideously abhorrent?” 

But Vassa was not the only one who was angry. Elain’s hands shook with suppressed rage as she spat back, “You do not deny it, then?” 

Vassa regarded her with a disgusted expression. “I deny keeping information from you for selfish, pitiful reasons, yes. But do I deny loving Lucien?” She lifted her chin imperiously. “No, I don’t deny it. Do you deny that you love Azriel?” 

It was Elain’s turn to freeze. 

“Of course I know,” Vassa said, answering Elain’s unspoken question. “How could I not know? How could anyone not know? The way you look at each other, how you dance around each other, the way you’re always finding excuses to spend time alone together. You are both fools if you think that no one else has noticed.

“Lucien has noticed, too,” Vassa added, and something heavy dropped in Elain’s stomach. “I told you when you came here to make a decision about him, but it seems you’ve instead decided to string two men along at the same time.”

Tears poured out of Elain’s eyes, sudden and unstoppable. She could tell that Vassa regretted her words the second she said them, but it didn’t matter. The damage was done.

“Elain, please,” Vassa begged, backtracking. “No matter my feelings for Lucien, it has never influenced the way I feel about you. You have been such a good friend. A true friend. I will forever be sorry for lying to you, but if I had to do it all again, I would not change a thing. To protect my ancestor’s secrets, to do what I thought was best for the realm…to do what I thought was best for you ,” the last sentence came out in a strangled whisper, and Elain had to look away for a moment, unable to meet Vassa’s piercing blue gaze. “If there is one thing you take away from this conversation, please let it be that I have always wanted what is best for you.”

If there was one thing Elain was going to take from this conversation, it was that she was a sorry fool to have trusted the mortal queen.

“Don’t speak to me again,” Elain said. Then she walked out of the mortal queen’s quarters, not looking back once.

The second she was in the hallway, a rush of panic overwhelmed her. Without even thinking about it, she pressed a shaking palm to the back of her neck.

He was there in an instant, enveloping her in his arms, in his shadows - and seconds later, they were at Rosehall, far away from the mortal manor, far away from the lies and the truths and the horror of it all. Vaguely, she registered that they were inside Rozaliah’s house, though she could not scent the female; she must have been at the market again. 

“What happened?” Azriel asked, worry lacing his honey-smooth voice. “What happened, Elain?”

“Not now,” she breathed, and then she was kissing him like she’d never kissed him before, more desperate and urgent and needy than ever. 

“Elain,” he managed in between kisses, “we should talk.” 

“Not now,” she repeated, louder this time, sharper. She did not need to talk right now, she did not need to think. All she needed, all she wanted, was to feel something besides the debilitating shock and terror that had started to creep through her very veins. So she reached for his shirt and ripped it in two.

The grating sound that came out of Azriel’s throat let her know she’d won. He began tearing at her dress, leaving it in veritable shreds on the wooden floor. And then they were naked, and somehow they found their way to the couch, and then she was on top, riding him with vigor, and they were both moaning loudly and clutching at every piece of skin they could reach, and even though it was rough and hard and dirty, it also felt pure and true. Like this - this wild, raging connection between them, this coupling that threatened to undo her as much as it sewed her weeping heart together again, was all she’d ever need. It felt like the only good, real thing in her life. It felt like making love. 

So why did it also feel like goodbye?

Tags (LMK if you'd like to be removed or added!)

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[simplywylan]

come back to me

i wrote my first newtmas thing (AND published it) in a good while. so please, read ahead!

any and all (within reason) feedback is appreciated.

(if you're gonna be rude about it, kiss my bastard arse)

He never complained to anyone if he got injured, just carried on as though there was nothing wrong.

So seeing Newt in such a state, sobbing and clutching at his side, desperately wanting to be saved, had shaken Thomas. - aka Minho hasn't been kidnapped, he and Newt go on a mission, Thomas has a bad feeling, and Newt bleeds.

[meetinginsamarra]

Fanfics I really liked in March 2023

So. Since I keep a list of what I´ve read anyway (there´s always a list), I will rec all the fics I´ve wholly enjoyed on a monthly basis. Old and new, canon or AU, big or small authors, long or short but nearly always Johnlock (-ish).  

“Nightjet” by khorazir @khorazir​

An exhausted hiatus Sherlock takes a night train to hunt down his next target and has to share his compartment with someone totally unexpected which leads to confessions and revelations. Beautifully written hurt/comfort. And there will be sequels. Squee!

“Illation” by hollyesque

This had me close to tears. Sherlock makes a deduction about his effect on John’s life and follows through his reasonings which are totally logical to Sherlock but devastating for everybody else (including the readers). John in return manages to make Sherlock see the fallacy in his plan in such a heartbreaking way that I had been close to tears again.

“Oblivion” by AlgySwinburne

A post-TST Sherlock is heartbroken by John’s letter and when Molly is heartbroken too, they get totally pissed together. Sherlock does some drunk texting John, which leads to hangover panic the following day, some fun and weird consequences and luckily an unsuspected reunion.

“Staircase Wit” by Splix

A delightful 5+1 following Sherlock’s life where he runs his mouth and gets a beating and one time he gets away. Snark, suspense, hurt/comfort and John to the rescue. What else do you need?

“You’ll fall, I’ll catch you” by laiquilasse

An unusual omegaverse fic. Omega John is unwillingly pregnant and comes across a sort-of axsexual Alpha Sherlock. It’s the story of how they become a familiy against all odds, including societal norms and their unwilling selfs.

“Against the rest of the world” by StarlightAndFireflies

After the restaurant scene John notices that Sherlock is hurt and things go differently. Short hurt/comfort fix-it fic.

“Not your average Roman holiday” by StarlightAndFireflies

John is on holiday in Rome when he gets roped into a crime investigation conducted by an obvious madman. A real nutter who only speaks Italian, is terribly annoying and very handsome.

[thetimemoves]

20 questions for fic writers

I was tagged by @raina-at @discordantwords and @totallysilvergirl, thank you!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

20

2. What's your total A03 word count?

57, 682. Not a lot for 20 works, but 10 of them are 221b ficlets. I only have one fic over 10k (it's just over 11.3k).

3. What fandoms do you write for?

BBC Sherlock

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Never Trust to General Impressions

Abditory

Feel My Heart Banging Like a Gun

Out of Every Nowhere

Forth They Went Together

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, I do. I'm so thrilled to get them and appreciate it when someone takes the time to leave a comment. It makes me giddy, it does!

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I like to end on a happy, or at least hopeful, note but occasionally angst comes out on top. I think it's probably a tie between these two: Paperweight, which is Sherlock's POV when Molly gives him John's letter at the end of TST; and With Regrets, which is John's POV as he says goodbye to Sherlock in the hospital after the beating in TLD.

Both are 221b ficlets, so at least it's a sharp punch of angst and not an extended bout? Not kidding about that punch, though (sorry not sorry).

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

This is a tough one, but I think these are probably the happiest:

bitter, sweet

Feel My Heart Banging Like a Gun

Abditory

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No, thankfully. Hopefully that continues.

9. Do you write smut?

I love me some good smut, but I don't write it (yet). Certain bits in Feel My Heart Banging Like a Gun and Steady as They Go are the closest I've come so far, but they're not smutty.

10. Do you write crossovers?

No. I don't. One of my WIPs is a Stand By Me/The Body (Stephen King) fusion, but I'm not interested in writing any crossovers right now.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, which amazes me! Two have been translated into Russian.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

@splix71 and I began to plot out a Sherlock bounty hunter AU I had initially come up with back in 2019. We had so much fun coming up with names and theories and plot points, so much fun. Unfortunately, she had to step back due to health reasons (FUCK CANCER) and afterwards I couldn't bring myself to go back to it. I doubt I ever will, as clever as I think some of the things we came up with were. I don't know that there is a place anymore for Baker Street Bonds, Yarders Bail Service, or Reichenbach Bail, but I will always treasure the time we spent on it together (that she, a most amazing writer, wanted to write something with me, still blows my mind).

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Mulder/Scully and Sherlock/John.

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have a Sherlock/John hunt the Bogeyman fic I've been poking at for YEARS. I love a lot of what I've written, but I wrote myself into a corner and haven't quite figured out how to get out. At this point I despair of ever finishing it, but never say never.

16. What are your writing strengths?

221b ficlets. I think I've done well with these in conveying lots of emotion in little moments.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Clever case fic and complicated plots. I can also get a bit wordy in my beginnings sometimes (ironic, considering my ability to write a strong 221b ficlet) and need a gentle nudge to cut to the action.

Also, if I'm going to be brutally honest, I tend to walk away too quickly when I get stuck and don't make myself work out the problem right then. Hence my many languishing WIPs.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I've not done it yet and don't see it happening down the road either.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

For published fic, BBC Sherlock. There might be some self-insert stories with River Phoenix in my very distant past.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Ooof, this is a hard one because every finished fic is a victory for me. That said, I'll always have a soft spot for Abditory. I had been in love with Sherlock since 2011 and devoured fic at an unholy rate, but was never dared write my own until 2017, after the last series. Better late than never, right? I also really loved writing Never Trust to General Impressions, with its slice-of-life looks at Sherlock and John's evolving relationship in relation to canon (with a not-so-canon twist on TRF). Funnily enough, both are 5+1 fics.

This was fun! I have loved reading all of these from everyone too. I'm going to be That Person and tag everyone who wants to do this but hasn't been tagged yet. Please do share!

[missamyshay]

tst: tell me about a recent writing choice you made (can be a piece of prose or dialogue, plot thing, character choice, an entire fic, whathaveyou) that you're particularly proud of!

I’m very proud of my Rio/May fic, actually. waves in the wind is unlike anything I’ve ever written before, and it was kind of a step into the dark. Making a whole 11k fic revolving around two often sidelined characters meant there were a lot of gaps to fill, a lot headcanon to conjure up, a lot of story to create. And trying to balance it all in a world that felt canon compliant enough to be real and yet completely non compliant in the same vein was a delicate dance. I think it’s important, in many ways that maybe some of my other fics aren’t. And overall, it was just a real joy to write.