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kurorama · 11 months

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Enjoy the Silence

Dad!Neteyam x Mom!reader

IN WHICH Neteyam realizes that he’s ruining the relationship between you two by putting his duties first, making your little family fall apart in the process.

Warnings: ANGST, arguing, neteyam is a lil dumb, eventual fluff.

A/N: IM BAAAAACK with a little shitty filler story for yall 🤭

Yours and Neteyam’s relationship had not always been this messy, filled with unresolved arguments and crying toddlers to tend to in the midst of the night. Matter of fact you both had been somewhat of a popular pair amongst the Omaticaya while Jake still ruled the clan, and it wasn’t like that had changed much throughout the years.

Two young, star-crossed lovers bound to fall for each other, bonded for life under the eyes of the All-Mother. There had been little complications in your relationship as you both grew with each other, accepted by both parents and blessed by Eywa herself. You complimented each like you both had been moulded in the sole purposes of completing one another, while you brought some gaiety into Neteyam’s life, he was always there to ground and guide you.

Amidst the instances that life had brought you to, the Great-Mother had been nice enough to bless you both with a new life, a son that had soon been accompanied by his very own sister. Though as Neteyam’s duties began to catch up on his poor soul, his duties as a father and mate have ignorantly been left in the dust.

Your heart ached at the many nights that you had spent alone at night, tending to your two young children while your husband was outside, treating some unrelated matter. Though you knew that being affiliated with the Olo’eyktan’s son would surely mean a future with many obstacles and unforeseen trouble, nothing could’ve prepared you for the rocky stages in your relationship that you were currently facing.

Now as you left as quickly as you arrived, a bowl full of threading needles and feathers in your arms that you had deposited to your mate, Jake could already tell that something was wrong. The tense silence that lingered around you both was suffocating, and low for any pair that shared a bond. Plus it was not like Jake was a stranger to you, he knew you and your talkative mouth, so this was truly odd.

“Your woman cannot even look at you in the face.” Neteyam’s ears flicker towards the sound of his father’s voice, startling him in the process as his calloused fingers graze the tip of the arrow that he was currently working on. The edge is sharp and draws blood from underneath his layers of skin, but an injury of this size does little to phase a warrior.

Neteyam shakes his head at Jake’s words, not finding it in himself to care at his father’s vague words. “What goes on in my home is anything but your concern.”

Jake winces internally at his eldest son’s harsh tone, differing from the usual tenderness and care that laced it. He knew not to take anything to heart, that the constant frown on his son’s face was probably the main source of it. The frown that he had brought amongst himself, though he fails to realise it for now, Jake is persistent on making his hard headed son understand.

Jake’s experienced fingers swiftly threaded a piece of string around his fletching, securing the feather onto the lower part of his arrow. His yellow eyes trailed towards his tall pile of finished arrows, while his son’s harboured a pitiful amount of 5.

“What’s wrong, son?” Jake sighed as he watched his son’s ears fall at his question, his hands pausing their work once more, this time free of any new injury.

“My mate is upset at me,” Neteyam breathed out loudly, and the pause in his voice made it known to his father that he was not quite done talking yet, so observant silence was what he was met with. “We have arguments nearly every night when I come home, and I'm sure that it’s affecting Nikko and Raylu just as much as it’s affecting us.”

Jake watched a sliver of a smile make its way onto Neteyam’s face at the mention of his two beloved children, before quickly fading away at the situation.

The sun had nearly started to leave place for the moon, eclipse bound to fall upon the lands of Pandora. The soft orange hue kissed the father and son, complementing their vibrant yellow eyes. Jake was no stranger to his eldest son’s trouble, for, it was easy to notice the absence of your mate in your family tent, late at night.

Jake didn’t believe that his son had been unfaithful to you, being deceitful was a concept that had been brought to Pandora by the humans, and unlike them, the Na’vi were loyal companions. He knew by the way that Neteyam’s muscles tensed at every move that his son was staying out all night to work, whether it was helping with village work or to help and train the newbies.

Hard-headed just like his mother, Neteyam had let his duties overtake the time that he was supposed to be at home, supposed to be a husband, supposed to be a father. No, instead he used that time to be The Future Olo’eyktan. Though nobody is born perfect, sometimes even people like Neteyam had to be guided to the right direction at times.

“Y’know, it’s never too late to head back home right now, forget about those duties that you have put amongst your own back and be the man that your family craves for.” and with that, it takes a little amount of thinking before Neteyam is up and running, his feet running towards the familiar dirt track towards your little shared hut. He sends a hurried ‘thank you’ and an apology for running off so early, though Jake can only be bothered to chuckle at his son, a sense of pride swarming his chest as he watches his eldest son be the man that he should. The man that you and your children deserve.

Neteyam observes as your eyes widen at his early entrance, clearly not being used to having him in your family tent at this hour. The sun had barely started to set, and both your children were just starting to wake up from their afternoon nap. There in your hand laid a tray of fruits, presumably to feed the roaring bellies of your two bundles of joys. Asif on cue, Nikko’s stomach growls as though he had never been fed before and a shushed giggle escapes your throat at the sight of him attempting to grab the fruit from your higher-form.

Neteyam watches with adoration in his eyes as you bend down on your knees to offer him a fruit on the platter, trying to stifle down his own laughter as your son attempts to grab the whole tray instead. Grubby hands gone and chubby stomachs full, the children are now playing on their own. Though your back is turned towards your husband, he knows that you fear the sight of him. Not that you fear him himself, but the conversation that would obviously have to ensue. He wasn’t here early for no reason, and you all knew it.

“I have saved you a special meal, I knew that you’d work until late again tonight,” you whispered out the last part and Neteyam’s ears twitched towards your direction. Though before he could say anything, you corrected yourself. “Or so I thought, but that doesn’t matter because here you are now.”

Your tone was soft and almost too caring for a woman that had spent the last few nights of her life arguing with her husband about his whereabouts, but he was here now, and there was no need to cause a scene.

Neteyam’s eyes observe as you turn around with two bowls in hand, both of them overlapping with steamed Teylu that you had previously prepared. Though the Teylu was the last thing on his mind at the moment, the sight of you had Neteyam practically to his knees. His mind and eyes raced between every single aspect of you, from the way that your clothes hugged your body in every good way possible, to the way your ears were flickering slightly as you awaited for him to say something.

“I’m surprised that the kids have not come running to me yet,” his voice cut through the sudden silence, choosing to ignore what you had said earlier. His eyes were very much still on you and he looked like a lost man. He looked like a fool in-love, and that was most probably what he was anyway, there was no shame in showing it. The both of you had now sat down in front of each other, bowls in hand as you feasted on the delicacy.

“They are too busy caring about their playtime to even notice the both of us, but it’s the age for such behaviour so don’t think anything of it.” you turned your head to take a look at your children once more, a soft smile gracing your face as you watched them carefully play with their carved toys. Toys that their father had hand-carved for them with love.

“They love you” you reassured him, somehow believing that his previous statement was because he thought it wasn’t the case. You turned your head towards your mate, though you weren’t expecting his eyes to meet yours so abruptly. You couldn’t help but notice the swirl of emotions that ran through them, like he was trying to speak to you through them because he couldn’t do it with his own mouth.

“I love you.” Neteyam blurted out before his brain could even process, though the look in his eyes proved that he meant every single word. The lack of hesitation in his voice made your heart thump hard against your chest, so hard that you could’ve thought that Neteyam could hear it. Your ears lowered at his sudden confession, though they were three words that you had heard many times throughout your relationship, they still had you reacting like you did the first time that he uttered them to you.

“I love you too, Neteyam.” you shyly muttered to him, your ears now raising as you stared your husband down with adoration. Neteyam released a breath that he ignored he was holding at your admission, a pressure upon his chest lifting. Bless Eywa, the way that you stared at him with those blown out pupils made him almost need to grip onto the floor to keep him from pouncing on you. Though now was not the time to get all riled up by you, he had a well awaited apology to deliver to you, and a role of husband to take up back on.

“Listen, I know I haven’t been the best mate as of recently, and I know that you have been suffering because of my actions,” Neteyam trailed off, watching you with attentive eyes to see if he could continue. “I know that I have not been present enough for my family, that I have put my duties at a higher position than they should've been. And I'm sorry for all of this, all that I've been causing to us.”

No words could come out of your mouth at his apology, though you wished not to speak. Something about hearing Neteyam being able to apologise and admit his faults had your hard thumping even harder than before, though he was not hundred percent forgiven in your heart.

“I’m sorry for causing unnecessary fights between us when I knew that you just wanted the best for me, or leaving you alone at night to take care of our children. I promise that as of now, I’ll give you all the time that you deserve. Or, pull my head out of my ass like Spider would say.” You both take a moment to laugh about the said man, Neteyam’s human cousin that you strangely adored.

“I love you and this family, there’s no other place that I'd wanna be right now. I don’t care if you don’t forgive me now, or ever in that case. I’d spend the rest of my life trying to fix my wrong doings.” Neteyam whispered to you.

It didn’t take you much after his whole essay-of-an apology for you to drop your half empty bowl to the side, crawling towards Neteyam that was just in front of you. The sudden throw of your arms around his neck was much unexpected for the Sully son, but he’d take that over anything else. His larger palms pulled you further into the hug, pulling you onto his lap with one hand upon your waist as the other laid across your lower back.

Eywa was he so warm, and how much had you missed the natural heat of his body. His arms engulfed your body into his embrace, making you feel much more protected than you needed to. Neteyam couldn’t help the pur that left his throat as you rubbed your cheek against his in a loving act, his heart felt like it could melt at any moment now. You nuzzled your face into his neck, the tip of your nose touching his skin as your breathing tickled him, and his chuckle was the proof of it.

You didn’t know exactly why you had rushed into his arms so quickly, after the amount of time that he had made you wait for him. But you knew that Neteyam was a good man, he was raised by good people, and he would never do anything to harm you or your little family on purpose. Nobody was perfect and neither was he, he’d make mistakes too, and you’d be here to correct him upon it. You deemed that it was probably your bond that led you back into his arms so fast, or the fact that you had missed him so much.

Though you didn’t care, you’d have all the time of your life to sulk and have him work to make it up to you later on.

“I don’t want to talk about it right now, It hurts just to think about the many nights that i’ve spent without you, Neteyam” the said man faltered upon your confession. He felt his heart tighten at the thought of you all cuddled up under a woven blanket as you waited for him to come back home, tears breaching your waterline as you clutched the soft material for comfort. Although when Neteyam opened his mouth to apologise once more, you were cutting him off again.

“Right now all I want is to enjoy this moment with my mate.” With that, the rest of the evening had been spent with laughter and loud catching-up conversations that you were sure that your neighbours would be complaining about tomorrow. By the end of the night, your little family had all ended up cuddled up together with your head resting against Neteyam’s chest, your children squeezing in between you both.

Neteyam craned his neck down in a weird angle to take a look at your snoring form across his chest, a fond smile spreading across his face as he admired his beloved family. All he’s ever wanted and all he’s ever needed was right here, in his arms. And for once in weeks, your family tent was not filled with blaring arguments or children’s wailing past eclipse, and Neteyam would gladly enjoy the silence.

i’m back after a month with the shittiest ff ever and a peter parker phase that’s coming back after years.🤭

@letsloveimagines

#neteyam x reader #dad!neteyam #atwow #avatar #avatar 2 #neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam oneshot #avatar x reader #neteyam x you #jake sully

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black-suns-rim · 3 months

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The Twin Xenomorph Clan Lore

Clothing: The members of the Twin Xenomorph Clan (also known as the Serpent Clan) favor practical yet rugged attire that reflects their connection to the environment. Their clothing is crafted from a combination of durable animal leather and xenomorph leather, providing both protection and a distinct visual appeal. Fur accents, from native alien creatures, are incorporated for warmth and added texture.

To enhance the aesthetic, they adorn their garments with twine, woven patterns, and a mix of thin and thick cloth. Decorative beads made from bone, wood, and metal are meticulously threaded onto the twine, creating intricate designs that tell stories of the clan's history and achievements.

The color palette of their clothing is inspired by the natural hues of Yautja-Prime, incorporating earthy tones, deep reds, dark blues, faded yellows, soft browns and gentle greens.

Jewelry: The twin xenomorph clan's jewelry is a symbol of status, accomplishments, and personal identity. Bones, both from indigenous creatures and symbolic of conquered foes, are fashioned into intricate necklaces, bracelets, and predlock adornments. Metal pieces, forged from native ores, add a touch of strength and resilience.

Beads made from bone, wood, and metal are carefully strung together, creating stunning and meaningful patterns. Twine is used to bind these elements together, and some members may wear special braided cords signifying their rank or achievements. The higher the rank a yautja has in the clan, the more jewelry they have on their predlocks and/or face. Matriarchs and huntresses tend to have more jewelry on them.

Weapons: The twin xenomorph clan relies on a mix of traditional hunting weapons and advanced technology that showcase both their practicality and skill in combat. These weapons include:

Spears and combi-sticks: Crafted with precision and adorned with unique symbols, the spears and combi-sticks serve as versatile tools for hunting and combat.

Knives and Daggers: These are essential tools for everyday use and close-quarter combat. Intricate carvings on the handles tell personal stories or depict clan symbols.

Bow and Arrows: The bowstrings are often woven from tough fibers found on Yautja-Prime, and the arrows feature fletching made from indigenous feathers or materials.

Wrist Blades: Worn as a symbol of honor and skill, wrist blades are both a practical weapon and a status symbol. Young Bloods gain wrist blades after going on their first successful hunt on-planet. The blades are often decorated with etchings that tell the wearer's story.

Plasmacaster: The Plasmacaster is a long-range energy projector weapon with automatic targeting capabilities. Capable of firing armor-penetrating plasma bolts at distant targets. The bolts fired by the weapon explode in a burst of plasma "shrapnel" upon striking a target, causing grievous wounds and potentially damaging other enemies near the point of impact. Once a young blood achieves Blooded status, then they are allowed for the right to use this weapon.

Shuriken The Shuriken is a primarily thrown weapon. Constructed with six retractable blades, it is sharp enough to cut into three inches of solid stone or cut a Xenomorph in two. It can also be used as a handheld slashing weapon.

Molten Knife The molten knife is a clan specific hunting tool. Though it is called a knife, the tool is a long blade with the capability of heating up to the point it becomes red hot. This hunting tool is exclusively owned by the huntresses of the clan and it is earned in a right of passage.

Leadership Structure: The twin xenomorph clan operates under a unique leadership structure that blends traditional and matriarchal elements. The overall decision-making authority lies with the older matriarchs, who are respected for their wisdom and experience. These matriarchs hold a higher rank than the male clan leader when it comes to significant clan-wide decisions, reflecting a deep-seated reverence for the wisdom of the elder females.

Clan Leader: The male clan leader assumes a pivotal role when hunting groups venture off-planet. Renowned for their prowess in hunting and combat, the clan leader leads these missions with authority. During off-planet expeditions, their decision-making is crucial for the success and survival of the clan members. The clan leader's authority is primarily tied to matters of hunting and external engagements.

Matriarchs: The matriarchs, on the other hand, are responsible for making critical decisions that impact the entire clan. These decisions encompass matters such as resource allocation, disputes resolution, and long-term strategies for the survival and prosperity of the clan. Matriarchs are typically older females who have proven themselves through a combination of wisdom, leadership skills, and past accomplishments.

Roles for Females: Females within the clan are granted a significant degree of autonomy in choosing their paths. They can opt to become matriarchs, participating in a rigorous process of mentorship and proving themselves through leadership tasks and decision-making challenges. Alternatively, they may choose the path of the huntress, mastering the skills of hunting, combat, and survival.

Roles for Males: Males in the clan have more limited options in terms of their roles. They are typically divided into two primary paths:

Hunters: Males who choose the path of the hunter are trained in the art of hunting, combat, and tracking. They become valuable members of the off-planet hunting parties, led by the clan leader.

Merchants: Some males opt for the merchant path, engaging in trade and commerce both within the clan and with external groups. Merchants play a crucial role in acquiring necessary resources and building alliances with other clans or species.

Religious Figures - The Shawman:

Selection and Training: The shawman, a revered religious figure, is appointed at birth through a sacred process. The older shawman, feeling the weight of age and responsibility, carefully selects a newborn with unique characteristics believed to be signs of divine favor. This chosen child is then trained as the future shawman. The shawman in training undergoes an intensive and holistic education, involving spiritual teachings, herbalism, and mastery of ritualistic practices. The training period is an essential part of their preparation for assuming the sacred role.

Gender Dynamics: While traditionally the shawman is a female, exceptions have occurred with some male shawmen. The gender of the shawman is seen as a manifestation of the gods' will, emphasizing the fluidity of spiritual roles within the clan.

Number and Succession: Typically, there are two shawmen in the clan at any given time, working in tandem to interpret the will of the gods. When the older shawman senses the end of their time, they begin training a successor. This ensures a seamless transition and the perpetuation of spiritual traditions.

Responsibilities: The shawman serves a multifaceted role, responsible for interpreting dreams, acting as a conduit for the two gods, overseeing spiritual rites of passage for individuals, and maintaining a sacred connection with the divine. They hold a position of influence and guidance within the clan.

Attire and Modesty: The shawman, in adherence to their spiritual role, dresses in fully clothed traditional or ceremonial garments. This attire is symbolic, reflecting their commitment to modesty and detachment from earthly desires. The garments also serve as visual markers of their sacred position within the community.

Mating Season Restrictions: The shawman, despite their esteemed position, is restricted during the clan's mating season. They are not allowed to participate unless it is with another shawman from a different clan. This ritualistic union is believed to symbolize the unity of spiritual forces and reinforce connections between clans.

Spiritual Guidance: The shawman's guidance extends beyond individual consultations; they play a pivotal role in advising the clan leaders and influencing major decisions. Their interpretations of dreams and messages from the gods often shape the direction of the clan.

Family Structure and Child-Rearing:

Male Responsibility After Weaning: Once young members are weaned off their mother's milk and transition to solid foods, the responsibility for their care often falls to the males within the clan. This stage is crucial for building bonds between fathers and offspring.

Life-Bonded Pairs: Life-bonded pairs share the responsibilities of raising a child. This unique bond extends beyond parenting to a profound partnership in various aspects of clan life. The synergy between life-bonded pairs is highly valued and contributes to the strength and resilience of the clan.

Collaborative Child Rearing: Older and more experienced males form collaborative groups to raise and train the young. This communal approach ensures that the youth benefit from a variety of perspectives, skills, and wisdom. It also fosters a sense of camaraderie among the males, reinforcing the interconnectedness of the clan.

Female Involvement in Child Rearing: While males predominantly handle the physical training, some females actively participate in raising the young. They contribute by imparting lessons through stories, cultural teachings, and, in some cases, engaging in rigorous training exercises. This blend of nurturing and discipline shapes the holistic development of the clan's youth.

Higher-Ranked Males Mating Outside the Clan: Males of higher rank within the clan often engage in mating outside the clan. This practice is not only a strategic alliance-building approach but also a means of introducing diverse genetics into the clan. Offspring from such pairings bring a wealth of genetic variability, enhancing the overall resilience of the clan. Mating practices are deeply embedded in the cultural fabric of the clan. The intentional selection of partners and the exchange of genetic material are seen not only as pragmatic considerations but also as sacred rituals that connect the clan to its evolutionary roots.

Seasonal Residency and Clan Activities:

Lush Forest Residency: Purpose: This dense and lush forest serves as the clan's gathering place during mating season and the birth of the young. It provides a vibrant and nurturing environment for the young to begin their lives. All members of the clan collectively migrate to the forest during mating season. This communal experience strengthens bonds, fosters unity, and allows for the exchange of cultural practices. Young Rearing: In this forest, the young are raised for the first years of their lives. The abundance of resources and natural shelter supports the nurturing and protective environment needed during this crucial period.

Icy Tundra Training Grounds: Purpose: The icy tundra location is a harsher environment used specifically for the training of older youth. It offers a challenging terrain that hones survival skills and instills discipline for more advanced courses. Training Regimens: The older youth undergo rigorous training in survival, combat, and advanced hunting techniques. The icy tundra's unforgiving conditions prepare them for the challenges they may encounter in the wider universe. This location also serves as a space for leadership development, where potential leaders are identified and given specialized training in decision-making, strategy, and conflict resolution.

Clan Ship and Adulthood: The clan ship: Upon reaching adulthood, hunters within the clan spend the majority of their lives on the clan's spaceship. This advanced vessel becomes a hub for interstellar hunting missions, exploration, and interaction with other clans. Continued Residency Options: For those not engaged in spacefaring pursuits, adulthood brings a choice between the lush forest and icy tundra for continued residency. This choice may depend on personal preferences, cultural ties, or specialized roles within the clan.

#yautja #predator #alien #the predator #lore #yautja clan #the twin xenomorph clan #the serpent clan #world building #alien clan #lore dump #lore blog #lore post #black momba

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wuxiaphoenix · 21 days

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Worldbuilding: Bottlenecks

In the real world, making anything usually runs up against at least one key limiting factor. For fabric, it was usually how much spun thread you had. Estimates in the 1800s were that it took five full-time spinners to supply one weaver. There are reasons why one of the first things water power was applied to was spinning. In making something as “simple” as a pizza from scratch, you have multiple potential bottlenecks, including but not limited to flour, yeast, oven fuel, toppings, you name it. And in making arrows, it’s usually the shafts that hold you back. Heads can be cast from metal or chipped from stone; fletching just needs large enough birds. But straight arrow shafts of the right length? Those are trickier to get hold of, and an excellent reason to scour the battlefield for still-usable arrows.

This also led to Korea having a military secret for centuries - a way to shoot half-length arrows from full size bows. Meaning they could pick up enemy arrows and use them, but invaders couldn’t shoot the tiny ones back.

Bottlenecks are a great way to throw obstacles at your characters. If you’ve established that something is rare, or in limited supply at that time, then when a Problem crops up that needs some of that finite supply and your characters don’t have it... cue sudden diversion, or even splitting the party. Which gives you ample opportunity to throw other problems and encounters at them, with a Ticking Clock along for the ride.

It doesn’t even have to originally be in limited supply. Storms, fires, and earthquakes can ruin storage; a noble throwing a vast Entertainment or a Bridezilla on the rampage might not leave one caterer standing. Your characters may think they’ve got their Evil Overlord Destroying Potion ingredients list down - and then find out no, no they don’t. At which point they have to get what they need from someone who really doesn’t want to give it up... or they need to find a substitute. With unpredictable results.

Or, they may just have to come up with a different way to handle the Bad Guy. Back to the drawing board, heroes!

Note, you shouldn’t bait-and-switch your characters this way too much. Otherwise your heroes won’t be the only ones gnashing their teeth. Too much, and your readers may wall the book. “There’s five bakeries in this town! How can they not find flour, sugar, and eggs anywhere?!?”

However, if your story is set in an unexpected disaster scenario? Hurricane, alien tsunami, zombie apocalypse; any kind of event where everything is in short supply except trouble? Then throwing your characters loops like this a lot more fair, and much easier on the readers. They’ve been warned!

Think about how things are made, and how your characters will have to make things to get themselves into trouble... and out of it.

The bad guys are closing in. They have what’s in their pockets and random shattered bits of wood and rock. How will they craft their escape?

#creative writing #worldbuilding #writing reference #korean history #apocalyptic

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thcophagy · 4 months

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open to: anyone.

featuring: fletcher “fletch” crawford, twenty-six, bisexual, lead singer in a band.

plot: another successful show over and instead of returning to the tour bus (aka, his buddy’s beaten up van) fletch decides to go to a local bar where he meets your muse. instead of sparking a conversation, he orders them a drink and gets the bartender to deliver it to their table. now, they’re coming over to see about their secret admirer.

flings were expected on tour, if not by law then by the existence of a group of twenty-somethings living in a confined space for god knows how long. a lot of the time it wasn’t about the sex, it was about sleeping in a real bed, not a motel or the back of the van when money got tight, it was about feeling at peace in a real home and pretending you belonged there. home wasn’t something fletch found himself worrying about often, he was used to being on the run, always in search of something he couldn’t quite put his finger on but it was nice to pretend, even for a short while. that wasn’t the reason he’d found himself at the bar that night, though to say it hadn’t crossed his mind would be a downright lie. tucked neatly in the middle of the bar, a half-finished beer in hand and a bunch of pretty faces to choose from, fletch reminded himself to text one of his bandmates that he wouldn’t be making it to the hotel that night. his plan was simple and always the same, he’d buy the prettiest face at the bar a drink, get the bartender to offer it to them and if they wanted to come thank him for his kindness, then they were more than welcome to. it was a funny thing, it wasn’t a lack of confidence that drew him to this quiet method, it was simply easier than shooting his shot and missing out; he didn’t like to be made into a fool. of course, one cocktail delivered down the bar later, fletch nursed on what was left of his beer as he pretended not to notice his pick of the night making their way over to him. it was only once they stopped beside him that he looked away from the display of bottles and shot a glance up to them, his big blues eyes slightly dulled from the alcohol but no less pretty. “didn’t know what you were drinkin’, but something fruity felt like a safe bet.” he explained slowly, with a slight drawl of an accent indistinguishable.

#* . ⊹ fletch crawford › threads #* . ⊹ open › starters

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xanwritesx · 1 year

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for: @taliwrites who: max & fletcher & blake au: mutant & proud

"I'm coming in - be decent!"

Which, from the looks of things, if Blake had been ten minutes later they most likely wouldn't have been. For whatever Fletcher and Max may have started to get up to she doesn't care that she interrupted. Max's sly hands wander in the right places to rile her boy up, and Fletcher with a newly rolled - between his fingers looking flustered on the dorm room sofa.

"H-hi, Bla-"

"Finn's over again." She's blunt, quick to cut Fletcher's greeting off, and clearly annoyed. "Studying or tutoring or whatever." Blake air quotes the first two verbs in that statement and then drops her bag to the floor and drops to Fletcher's mattress with a groan.

Fletcher drops the contraband onto the small table amongst all his recreational belongings and nudges Max. "Has he been hanging around her more?" She'd know - she and Finn are almost as inseparable as she and Fletch are, but if he's been busy it might explain why there's been more time spent in his dorm. Not that Fletcher minds, even if she can manage to distract him from his studies with his own lack of self control. "Tali doesn't seem the sort. She's... probably, uh... really being tutored?"

"Ugh, whatever. Max, tell him." Blake groans again, dramatically, and tosses his pillow at his head. "Finn's a dog, Tali's his new tree. Do you think he's actually helping her study?"

#[ char : fletch ]#[ char : blake ]#[ thread : max ]#[ au : mutant and proud ]

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mctionsick · 2 years

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shuffle starter for @illuminatcd (2/3) battle my love by circa survive

“I know what you said, and I've been torn apart since the day you left.”

#player 1: harvey fletcher #fletch (thread)#illuminatcd

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deadqueernoldor · 7 months

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Random headcanon of the night: those of the Calaquendi who were messiest while pursuing their craft were those who loved Beleriand the most.

Maglor, who left compositions strewn everywhere and misplaced spare harpstrings and rosin crumbs coated his floors, loved the East.

Caranthir, who left the cut-off ends of threads and fabrics lay where they had fallen and who left clumps of wool beside his spinning wheel without ever cleaning them up, loved the East.

Celegorm, whose spare arrows were usually found stuck in a random hay bale for 'safe keeping' and whose fletching kit was either kitted with two of each or half-empty, loved the East.

Celebrimbor, whose forge was in a constant state of controlled chaos with coal smudges on the floors and desks overflowing with scraps of paper for sketches and calculations, loved the East.

#its just a shame that those who loved it the most died to it #headcanons

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fandomfriend · 10 months

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Fanart for Doves and Arrows

So there’s this amazing Tf2 Bushmedicine fic called Doves and Arrows, by @anonymous-astronaut, and I decided to make a thing for it. Astro at one point put the title of his fic into an ai generator, which produced this image:

I got permission to turn it into a wall hanging, and have finished this after almost 3 weeks of work (front and back):

If anyone wants to see my explanation for choices I made or in progress photos I took, I’ll put them under the cut since I tend to ramble. Please go read Doves and arrows, it is fantastic.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23886154/chapters/57423127

So, I started out by trying to make sense of the original ai image. I threw it into an art program and made 2 copies of it. One sticking closely to the original image, just cleaned up. The other changing some of the weirder shapes into something recognizable. I especially focused on including actual arrows into the second image.

I decided to use the second image, and put it into a site called Bracelet Book, in order to get a pattern to use. I did my best to make the pattern as symmetrical as I could on the first pass, but the dove was very difficult to work with.

People looking closely may see that the final project looks a little different from the pattern. Especially the dove’s eyes and the fletching on the arrows. That’s because I would sometimes make on the fly decisions to alter parts of the pattern, since it’s pretty flexible like that. Most edits were done to make parts look more even or less cluttered (except for 2 specific changes). Here is the edited pattern I had by the end of all this. The edits are a little messy since most were drawn using my phone. :P

Once I had a pattern, I started working on making it. The kind of method I used is used for what’s called Alpha bracelet patterns. If anyone wants to know more, I recommend looking up tutorials by the youtuber Masha Knots, as she was the one I learned from. Here’s some progress photos, as you can see it’s a pretty messy looking process.

I changed the eyes and and arrow fletching colors for a specific reason actually. I wanted the eyes to be blue since the dove represents the BLU Medic, Josef. The arrows fletching then became red for the RED Sniper, Mick. I just felt like the plainer pattern wasn’t as clearly a Tf2 thing.

Once I finished off the pattern, I tied the strings I had been tying my knots on into little tassels. I sewed a black outline around the beak, since it didn’t stand out against the body as well as I hoped. I also decided to make a cover for the back. This is because, for anyone who doesn’t know, the back of an alpha pattern pretty much always looks like a disaster. It takes a lot of work to hide the mess, so I like to make fabric covers for it. I did neaten up the mess where I could before sewing on the cover though.

When I made the fabric backing, I originally just planned something simple and plain, but the only fabric I had was blue, which didn’t match the look of the piece. So I got the idea to paint it to lean into the red and blue theme, complete with the characters class symbols. I cut out the fabric, hand hemmed it as best I could, and painted it with some acrylic paints I had.

Then it was just a matter of sewing it on and adding a string for the wall hanging to hang from! This is the biggest project of this sort I have ever made, nearly twice the size of the second largest wall hanging I’ve done. It’s about 5 1/2 inches tall (not counting tassels), and 5 1/4 inches wide. If anyone is interested in making anything like this, I have some advice. One, always get way more string than you think you need. I got two bundles of each kind of thread I purchased, since I got some specifically to color match as best I could. By the end I had to make another run to Michaels for more green since what I had wasn’t enough. Also, try to keep your knots neat and evenly sized. Some parts of the pattern aren’t clear on the final project because the knots are hard to see.

If you actually read through this whole thing, I hope you have a good day!

#general post #Tf2 #bushmedicine #doves and arrows #this took me so long to make you have no Idea #It doesn't help that I am also trying to get my drivers license #so I literally finished this final test for an online driving course right before making this post #I'm very tired but very satisfied

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ace-malarky · 1 month

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Extinct

In which the gates of the Mist being solidified has Repercussions on a world that doesn't want to lose its dragons, and the events of WereCreature Chronicles are set in motion

To say Tsierre was worried was putting it lightly. He had felt the reverberations ricochet through the Mist and hit something. He had heard the dragons roar.

Something had gone horribly, terribly wrong.

“We have to do something.”

Tsierre pulled his attention back to the gathering of nomesach before him.

“It is not ours to intervene.” That was Hotre, resettling his wings against his back.

“It ought to be. How long before we are threatened? Already the Bone Dragon is restless.” Keyahir blinked.

“They do not always appreciate our help,” Tsierre said, breaking his silence. “It would be best to wait, perhaps, and be vigilant.”

“Every year the plain grows smaller, and you want us to wait?” Keyahir snarled.

“The NightGale–” started a quiet voice, overshadowed by Keyahir.

“Something has happened beyond the Mist, we might be all that is left, and you want us to wait?” Keyahir scoffed.

“The NightGale–”

“We will go extinct waiting. We must do something.”

“What would you suggest, Keyahir?” Hotre sounded tired. “Travel beyond the Mist is tricky, even for us. Even were we to go to Magicen and risk it all–”

Hotre cut off as someone yowled, caterwauling into a shriek. A young nomesach – bright, kestrel barred wings, spotted back, heavy rudder of a tail that was fletched with feathers – stalked into the centre of the circle.

Tsierre relaxed his tensed muscles, attempting to smooth his ruffled fur without being too obvious. “why do you interrupt now?”

“Because the NightGale sent me with a suggestion, Nomesach Tsierre.” Now that she had everyone’s attention, her manners were impeccable. She sat, tail spread behind her and wings folded in, and dipped her head to him. “If you will hear it.”

Keyahir scoffed at the slight hint of judgement in the nomesach’s voice.

Hotre shot her a warning look. “Speak, then, Nomesach…?”

“Nomesach Krinos. The NightGale suggests that we look for the Three.”

“The Three!” Keyahir scoffed. “That is merely an old story.”

“Given to us by the One Who Sings.” Krinos held herself more calmly than Tsierre would expect anyone of her age to. “I think it is time to listen.”

“A story is still a story, no matter who tells it.” Keyahir stalked forward as if she sought to intimidate Krinos.

“A story still has threads of truth, no matter who disbelieves it,” Krinos replied, and Tsierre almost laughed.

Keyahir bristled and opened her mouth to snarl.

“This infighting solves nothing.” Hotre cut across her. “Nomesach Krinos. Were we to search them out, travel still poses a problem.”

Krinos inclined her head. “There are still aspects to work out, I admit. The NightGale suggested that the Three might be pulled in alone, and we only need to look within our own domain.”

“And if they are not?” Tsierre asked. “Who would you ask to sacrifice themself?”

“No one without volunteering myself.” Krinos tilted her chin up.

A familiar gesture. One Tsierre had seen elsewhere.

“Brave,” remarked Hotre.

“Foolhardy,” spat Keyahir. “Still. Your keeper will remember you, if no one else does.”

“She will remember you, too.”

“Find one, and the others may follow,” Tsierre said, before Keyahir could descend into more squabbling.

Krinos met his gaze and nodded.

Tsierre watched her and knew where he recognised her motions from. She had told him, hadn’t she? And he had forgotten, because that was how it worked.

He stepped down from his perch and raised his wings in an invitation.

Krinos followed. They left the circle of nomesach behind. Hotre raised his voice to focus the discussion.

Beyond the circle it was dark. Tsierre’s wings glowed, reflecting the moonlight back.

“If you do this, the chances for your return are slim.”

“Everything changes, Tsierre. Even us.”

Tsierre dipped his head. “Even so.”

“I would rather one than all.” Krinos tipped her head back. “Even if that one is me.”

“It is not you that will suffer.”

“No,” Krinos said, and smiled. “But as Nomesach Keyahir said, only the NightGale will remember.”

“And you choose this, willingly?”

“I will not let the world dissolve because I was a coward. It starts already.” She glanced back over her shoulder. “Magicen already breaks.”

“No one has brought that news.” Tsierre blinked.

“I think they try to fight it.” Krinos sat, her voice soft. “They are very brave.”

Tsierre turned back to face her, sitting back on his haunches. “You are, too.” He looked at her – so young, so small, so steady – and his heart almost broke. “How many did you have to out argue for the – honour?”

“None.” Krinos tilted one wing in a shrug. “The NightGale knows her name.”

“Her?”

“The first of the Three.”

Tsierre dipped his head, let that sink in. “You and she?”

“Leiri,” Krinos answered.

Tsierre flicked his tail through the grass.

“We are two sides, of a sort. So I know I will find her.” Krinos met Tsierre’s gaze. “I will not let us go extinct.”

“Sister,” Tsierre said, unbidden. It fell out, instead of what he meant to say.

Krinos blinked at him.

“I was also the NightGale’s, once.”

“And now you are Polinnedite’s.” She tilted her head. “Or Rhutren’s, perhaps.” The words had a teasing lilt to them.

Tsierre shot her a narrow eyed stare for that.

Krinos laughed and started to groom her wing.

“As you will be Leiri’s,” he said eventually, half a breath too late to be a decent retort. He has had little practice at being an older brother, but he wanted.

Krinos laughed at him.

“How will you travel?”

“The mage nest has already reached out with dire portents.” Krinos rolled her eyes. “As if they are the only ones aware.”

“You debt yourself to them?” Tsierre frowned.

“Oh, no.” Krinos gave him a wicked smile. “They debt themselves to we. Since they begged.”

“Be careful how you play them,” Tsierre replied. “They are proud.”

“Of course.” Krinos tilted her head, and there was that teasing light dancing around her eyes again. “Brother.”

Tsierre couldn’t help himself; he barked with laughter and reached out to bat a paw against Krinos’ head.

She pulled back out of the way and snapped at his paw in a playful manner, inviting him to follow.

He was the nomesach of Polinnedite, who kept all knowledge. He ought to be amongst the nomesach, discussing the threat to the world, discussing what they might do to keep themselves alive in the face of it.

Tsierre leapt after Krinos. They would not fall in one night There was time yet, and then his youngest sister would help to save them all.

#writing pieces #Krinos Neth'ran #Tsierre #Leritheyar #Nomesach

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adlamu · 7 months

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a lot of my music taste can be traced back to one of multiple threads:

metalhead mother who's really into the bluesy ballad-y hair metal type vibes and rarely ever plays literally anything else unless she's in her Radio 2 Only phase.

r&b, jazz, ska, reggae, etc etc-loving aunt who'd blast stuff like the specials and ub40 during car rides when i was a kid.

the lost boys soundtrack.

that one wedding reception party where jcge was playing and my mum showed me the 'proper' way to dance to it (which as it turns out is just fletch and dave's lil feet shuffles that she'd remembered from watching dm on tv one time - i think was an ep of swap shop or smth idk i cba asking her).

me discovering shit on kerrang! tv or scuzz and by buying (or, uhhh, "borrowing") random CDs.

me finding stuff through googling a band's individual members and finding that said band members have solo projects and giving them a Good TryTM before ultimately falling in love with said projects (source: this happened to me with recoil ngl to you).

#newtrabble

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1nksta1neddesk · 8 months

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A Court of Readers and Dreamers

Chapter 10: Stare Into Forever

The next day passed with no word from either Lucien or Tamlin, which left me with a whole day to sit in the library until Alis fetched me for a lonely dinner that I left from as quickly as possible.

The morning of Calanmai had my blood thrumming since the moment I had woken up, a book denting my side from where I had fallen asleep on top of it. I stayed in my room until late morning, dressing in the clothes I had hidden after a boiling bath that left my skin radiating steam.

Alis weaved my hair into a crown after a late lunch, speckled with wildflowers that I hadn’t registered her placing between the strands. Now I stood in front of the mirror, looking at my face framed with petals of daisies and small blooms of yellow chrysanthemums. It didn’t fully compliment my clothes, though I supposed they were meant to make me look more like I belonged in Spring Court while my clothes were a subtle opposition to it.

My eyes moved from the flowers held around my head and down to the outfit that adorned me, despite Alis’ protests when she had seen me that morning. Flowing dark cotton pants, just shy of black with the complimenting white thread that hemmed it, the cuffs at the ankles gathering the fabric in elegant pleats that dispersed as the pants traveled up farther. Ties held the waistband close to my skin. Where the waistband ended just below my navel, an equally flowing blouse started, hanging from my shoulders where it had no sleeves, the side of my arms bare to the open air where they showcased the speckling of freckles that had formed from countless hours in the perpetual spring sun. The blouse shimmered silver with soft casts of blue and purple only to be seen when catching light at certain angles.

I looked positively Night Court, if it wasn’t for those yellow and white sparks at my head ,that I was starting to convince myself they looked like burning stars. I looked back at Alis, grinning in a way that had her face pinching.

“I do wish you would let me put you in a dress, if only just once.” I scrunch my nose at her playfully before I adjusted an imaginary piece of stray hair. The first thump of a drum from across those rolling hills beat sent my heart fluttering.

I shooed Alis off, telling her to enjoy the Rite and that she deserved the night off. She was reluctant untill she was past the door of my room, at which point she gave a shallow dip of her head accompanied with a thank you before she disappeared down the hall. I closed the door behind her, rushing over to the window and drawing back the curtains that dampened those thunderous beats.

One beat, a call, followed by two quickly after one another, an answer. They called for whoever may be to come to them, to revel in them, but I resisted, if only for now. I sat down in the chair that usually belonged to the breakfast table, and let the rays of sun that were still high in the sky warm the back of my shoulders as I slipped on my usual boots that hugged close enough to my leg to not disrupt the pleats of the pants as I hid them.

I was alone for maybe 30 minutes before I heard a knock on my door. I got up slowly and opened the door as casually as I could, hopeful my plans weren't compromised. Tamlin stood there, baldric across his bare chest as he heaved a breath, shifting the red fletched arrows that sat just behind his shoulder. I watched him as he looked back at me, each assessing each other's attire.

“Can I help you with anything Tam?” I said with the sweetest voice I could, as naturally as I could, as his eyes raked down the blouse. More specifically to the tanned cleavage that was exposed from the top buttons being undone as I had been pacing with anticipation sparked anxiety.

His voice was gruff as his eyes traveled back to meet mine, catching at my lips for a moment that I did not miss. “Stay in the house, no matter what tonight. Lock your door even, tonight is not a night for human company amongst faeries.”

I nodded my head, slightly shielding my body behind the door that was still just partially opened as I did so. “I will keep that in mind High Lord, enjoy the Rite.” I moved to fully shut the door, but his hand caught it.

“I mean it Feyre, stay in your chambers” He retracted his hand and was already gone as I peered through the crack in the door at the hallway. I loosed a tense breath and backed away from the door as I let it click shut. I moved back towards the window just in time to see Tamlin stalking through the garden.

Predator, pure predator as he moved, quickly disappearing to where the first trails of smoke swirled in the sky. I let the cooling spring night air kiss my face, carrying the twinge of smoke and the growing scent of rose and cut grass as I still stared to where those bonfires now burned.

I let night fall, let the thumps of the drums guide me as I let time slip by as I moved my feet, finding an old rhythm as they called for me. Come it whispered into my blood, Come See . My stomach growled as I drank water from the pitcher that had become a constant companion on that breakfast table. I let hours tick by, occasionally falling to my bed to scream into one of the pillows whenever the emotions boiling in my chest became too much.

10 o’clock hit as I was running out of the garden doors, dark cloak billowing around me as I was halfway careful to not cause too much noise as I snuck into the stables. Ceres, the white horse I had been riding since my first day in spring, already had her head lounging out of the stall, eager for treats as she heard my feet. Luckily I had taken to riding her bareback on patrols, and was quickly atop her.

With no need for a guide she set off, a soft trot over foot hills. I sat low on her back, pulling the hood of the cape as far forward as it would go to hide the smooth arches of my ear. The scent of smoke and flowering blooms was quickly growing stronger as I brought Ceres to the edge of the gamepark woods that I had hidden in two days before. I dismounted from her and she understood my intention as she found a comfortable spot in the wooded grasses to lay down in.

I could not see the faces of the faeries around me as I passed, that dense glamor still in my senses as I skirted around the edge of those blazing flames. Past the drums, past the mingling faeries around the mouth of the shadowed cave, to stand by the tree line, still just barely in the glow of the fires.

I waited, ignoring the faeries around as I watched the flickers of flame from my distance. Minutes passed where nothing happened and my legs were starting to tingle. A grumble as I shifted the weight on my legs, and of course it was the moment I felt ready to complain about the waiting when a hand grabbed me and spun me around.

Three pict males were behind me, two flanking the central one grasping my arm, who smiled down at me, revealing pointed teeth. “Human woman,” he murmured, running an eye over me, my free hand itching to gather the fabric of the cloak to cover wherever his eyes touched. “We’ve not seen one of you for a while.”

I was doubting my plan as I tried to shake his hand from my arm as I looked at the two behind him. “Leave me alone Bastards” that gripped tighten as he pulled me further towards him.

“Why? Can we not enjoy some fire night revelries with such a sweet prize ” Fiery fear lit my veins as I definitely knew this was a mistake. Another pict hand pulled my hood back before plucking a flower from the braid that was still twisted at the top of my head.

I cursed at them, “Let me go.” I did my best to hiss at them, ripping my still free arm away as I felt fingers ghost at the skin.

“Bold words for a human on Calanmai.” The third one hissed in my ear as it caught the arm I jerked away as the one in front of me. “Once the Rite’s performed, we’ll have some fun, won’t we? A treat—such a treat—to find a human woman here.”

That one in front of me, the ring leader, placed its other hand at my hip, roving up to the skin under my blouse at my waist. I did not hesitate the moment I felt the thin fingers at my skin as I slammed my head forward, knocking our heads together with a crack. The hand jerked away as the owner grabbed at his head, his other hand still at my arm tightening painfully as I saw a small well of black blood on its forehead. I smiled at the small victory for having a hard head before more hands were on me, restricting as much as leading me towards the woods.

I pushed back, kicking at the shin of the one that held me, but those fingers did not loosen. I pulled back, broadcasting the fear of a cornered animal around me as the hands on me tightened, bruising now as I was slowly tugged towards the forest line. I dug the heels of my boots into the ground while I twisted my arms and torso around, trying to break from their grip.

Two twin lines of ripped grass followed behind us as I resisted more. I kicked at them more, trying to rip my arms away from their bruising grips, but every time I knocked a hand away, another was somewhere else, sharp nails scratching at my skin. He was supposed to be here already, swooping in like Prince Charming saving a Damsel as that tree line grew nearer and nearer, meters turning to feet.

One of the hands landed over my mouth as I went to shout at them, and on impulse I opened my mouth and bit down on two of those bony fingers, oily blood spilling into my mouth as bone crunched. The creature shrieked as I spat the vile blood out of my mouth, sputtering as the two others faltered, two hands pushing me towards the shadows as another one faltered at seeing its ilk cradle a mangled hand. My legs knocked together and with the open space behind me, I fell.

The expectation of stony dirt under me was replaced by a large hand under each of my arms. I tilted my head back and couldn’t control the smile that spread across my face at the glimpse of violet eyes under neatly slick black hair. He eased me back to my feet as the faeries stared with wide eyes at the presence of the High Lord behind me.

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you.” His voice eased the pounding of my heart, replacing it with a new fear that simmered at my skin. Rhys’ hand shifted from my side as he took a step to stand next to me, a warm arm draped over my shoulders. I resisted the urge to turn my head up at him, at least not while I kept my eyes on the three soon to be dead faeries in front of us.

“Thank you for finding her for me,” he said, and if his voice was so smooth that the silk of my tunic felt like burlap against my skin,“Enjoy the Rite.” Threat loomed in his words as the males stumbled back, turning and pushing against each other as they scurried like rats back towards the fire.

With them gone I let my shoulder sag just a bit and twisted in Rhys’ arm, enough to keep its comfortable place and for me to peer up at him.

I had imagined him beautiful for years, but even after months of adjusting to the Fae beauty of Lucien and Tamlin my breath was stolen from my lungs. Short black hair gleamed under the barest flickers of fire light, his pale skin contrasting it like the moon in the night. I wanted to wince at the wane look of his skin, knowing the deep tan it should be holding if not for Amarantha holding him in her claws. But still I admired his sharp features, shadows pooling to smooth out the exhaustion that coated every beautiful feature. He looked me up and down, sensual and calculating at the same time.

I would never be able to chase his image from my mind, not as I slept, not as I woke, and definitely not as I spoke to him.

“Oh shit- hey.” I stuttered out, and I looked into his eyes and thanked every god I could and couldn’t name that I had made Tamlin de-glamor me as I stared into star-flecked night. They were blue, deep and unending as they twinged with violets and indigo, their depth speaking of light years as small splatters of silver peered through at me. Amusement sent the stars in his eyes shivering, twinkling like diamonds held on invisible strings.

“What is a mortal woman doing here on Fire Night?” Each word sent shivers licked up my spine at the lover's drawl coming from his mouth as he continued to bare his eyes into me. A smirk teased the corner of his lips as I replied.

“Enjoying the revelries before those pict bastards thought my presence was an open invitation,” I said, the words clipped and irritated as I dusted faked dirt from my pants and tunic. I spat out another wad of black tinged saliva as I inspected myself, hoping I would not have any lingering bruises from where they had gripped me.

“Oh, such profanity from such a lovely mouth. A mouth that I’m sure you know how to use if the hand of one of those bastards was any tell.”A pause where he stepped back and evaluated me. I tried to stand taller as he spoke again, “How does a mortal woman end up here on Fire Night?” I tried my best to look casual as I shrugged.

“My friend brought me, we live near.” Obvious lies that echoed Feyre’s. I knew he wouldn’t buy them, knew they would entice him as I saw echoes of pulsing shadows behind him, festering in his own cast light.

“And who is this friend?” Despite him not moving it felt as though he was leaning over me.

“No one you would know, but we will be staying for a few days, just for the celebrations.” I had my string cast and was slowly reeling it in with a giant shark at the other end of it. A moment of silence, both of us contemplating what to say next. Luckily I was not the one who had to break it,

“You're welcome.” He said as he looked away from me, picking at a non-existent piece of lint from his black tunic, “For saving you.”

It was enough for me to joke, set up a repertoire that I saw past that concrete mask, “Saved me? You must be mistaken, I think you saved those picts from me.” I pushed back the side of the cloak, revealing a low belt that held a glittering hunting knife. “Truely a stain on the world, males like that.”

I knew there was no guilt for the life of those bastards, still I reassured as a half cocked grin pulled his cheek back. I wished I could see him lively, with his family, a full grin across that achingly beautiful face filled with the color of sun and his wings spread and free. I realized I would sacrifice it all for him to have that, for the rest of Prythian to have that freedom, even if I was lost to the sands of eternity to achieve it. But I would let myself have tonight, an easy night where I could pretend the male in front of me wasn’t destined to someone else, someone I had replaced.

“I’ll remember not to save you next time, less I end up the one with the knife in me.” A mocking tilt of his head down, not a bow but close enough with the court eyes I knew watched for him. “Aren’t humans usually terrified of us? And aren’t you, for that matter, supposed to keep to your side of the wall?”

The question only caught me off guard for a moment before I waved a hand out dismissively, “So are you fae but plenty of you slip through anyway, at least I came to enjoy wine and food.” Wrong, my stomach felt hollow since I had skipped dinner in my impatience and was staunchly sober as I did not trust whatever was held by those tables I had seen faeries congregate as I slipped by the edges of the firelight.

“Food and drink will take a long while to come back. May I escort you somewhere in the meantime?” The beats of the drums steadied my heart as I looked at the arm he had offered me. Time was drawing near to where I had to flee back to the house, away from the High lord that was coming back from his hunt. I took the arm he offered, leaning against the warmth of the muscle I could feel beneath it.

“No thank you, I think I will turn in soon.”I saw a flicker of disappointment across his eyes, and knew I couldn’t walk away, not yet, “Though, I do think it would be a shame if I did not get a dance with my knight in shining armor.” I looked at his clothes, fine and pitch black, and unclipped my cloak to fold it just inside the glow of firelight. His tunic had silver threads at the seams, an inversion to the blouse I wore myself. He grinned down at me as he stepped back, his hand falling into place with mine before he spun me along with the music.

Though I knew this was dangerous for him, I flowed along with him. His hand was at my waist and I held his other as we fell deeper into the shadows of the woods, branches above us. Gaps in the leaves showed shining stars as my neck craned back and I laughed out to the sky. It was fun to let go, to enjoy the company of a male I knew I could trust.

His hands tightened against me, urging me to look back at those violet eyes. If the stars above truly were souls from the afterlife, I would not think it so cruel for me to become one of the ones held in his eye. His arms swept wide and we seperated for a moment, his hand guided me into a twirl. I felt the wind kiss at the skin that was revealed as the movement caught the silver fabric, careening it around me. I savored the cold kiss as he twisted me back in, his arm settling back down at my waist.

I bumped my hip, sliding his arm back to where I could now clasp both hands. This time I pulled him with me as I twisted, our feet hit the ground with heavy thumps that complimented the drums, and I almost recognized the beat to a song before a hand was pulling me away from him. I let out a small cry of shock at the loss of those warm hands before I was being placed behind a familiar male body, a wall of frazzled red hair before me.

Lucien was now holding me, pushing me behind him slightly as he looked at Rhys. “You were not invited, Rhysand.” He snarled it out and I tried to soothe a hand down his arm before he turned to me slightly, his metal eye staying fixed on Rhys. I saw those starry eyes sharpen at Lucien's bristle before he was smoothing out his shirt.

“I wasn’t aware that Calanmai had become private, Emissary.” Cold words, any warmth from his interactions with me gone. Still they held that feline tilt as Lucien still walled between us. I could feel the tension rising as Lucien paused, and interjected myself.

“I should not have asked you for a dance when I was already taken. Enjoy the Rite, sir.” A stiff nod from Lucien and I was pulling him away from Rhys, into the crowd of lesser faeries again. Lucien took over the path we were taking the moment we entered the swelling crowd, taking us to the opposite side of the celebration, back towards the game park.

“What were you thinking, Feyre?” His voice was seething as his grip on my arm tightened.

“I was thinking that I deserved to party along with everyone else.” I pulled the mask of an indignant mortal girl over myself as I ripped my arm from his grasp and crossed it across my chest.

“Idiot!” He was shouting now and a few faeries on the fringe looked towards us. “You were told to stay in your rooms! You useless Human fool.” I couldn’t protest as I was shucked over his shoulder. I pounded at his back as wind tore past us as he was running back towards the manor. The drums faded into the distant as their speed changed, beats closing in on eachother. I had been so lost in enjoying the small glimpse of Rhys that I had lost sense of time, lost sense of being.

Lucien only stopped running once we were in the manor, the grand hallway before us as he set me down. His hair was messy as he looked at me, anger making the personal glamor he had over himself shift for just a moment, hair blazing and eyes going molten.

His hands were at my shoulders as he lightly shook me, “You idiot! Didn’t he tell you to stay in your rooms?” Shame burned my ears and cheeks red like when I had come home past curfew.

I bowed my head as I apologized, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.” I looked back up at Lucien as his hands fell away from me, and found him rubbing at his temples.

“Go to your room, I have to go back out there and try and keep the blood spill to a minimum for when he smells you but cannot find you.” I did feel bad as I apologized again, he left and I half ran to my room, not knowing how far off Tamlin was.

I locked my door that night, closing the window that was almost always open, and slid one of the heavy bedside tables in front of the door. I fell asleep reading of herbs found in each court, alert for any sound. I had multiple hours of quiet sleep before a snarling in the halls roused me. I only quickly made sure the lock was in place along with the table before I slept again, a soft hum of a lullaby blocking out the occasional scrape of sharp claws against a distant corridor wall.

#fanfic #acotar #acotar rewrite #reader #a court of readers and dreamers #inkywrites #reader insert #Calanmai #rhysand #rhys acotar #rhys x reader

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