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antihibikase2 · 6 months

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Burn Heal : Chapter 1

Will-O-Wisp : The user shoots a sinister flame at the target to inflict a burn.

Even when they were young, there was something different about Hilbert Blackburn- perhaps it was a youthful, boyish charm, one that made him appear to be almost heroic in the gaze of his childhood friends.

It would have been quite embarrassing for either of them to admit such a thing back then, to admire Hilbert for something neither of them could pinpoint- perhaps now, it would be well-deserved.

He had become the hero they've heard of in the legends, fire licking up his wrists and brown eyes occasionally shining blue, the smoke surrounding him curling into beautiful wings- a sign that he was, indeed, Reshiram's chosen.

Yet.

Hilbert, crowned hero and champion, still looked the same as he had two years ago, when he set out for his journey with his friends.

Hilbert, Reshiram's Chosen and Hero of Truth, looked as if time had not been as cruel to him as it had been for the people he left behind.

Hilbert, that earnest boy who ran away from Nuvema Town, had the same kind eyes, the same wide smile, the same awkward laugh.

While Cheren, the one who stayed, the one who waited, the one left behind, stood taller than him.

He bit down on his lip at the sight, sneaking his hand into the pockets of his pants- and finds a small toy to fiddle with in his fingers.

It was a small toy he had acquired from a capsule toy machine at Striaton when he was young- a small toy of a Ferroseed with rotating body parts, paint chipped off from the cheap plastic.

This Ferroseed- it was one of the many things he and Hilbert shared, unsurprising as he grew up in the homes of both his friends.

Yet that memory does not bring him a warm sense of nostalgia- it only serves to bring attention to the growing coldness in his palms, the sight of his breath leaving his mouth-

"Cheren?"

He finds something stuck in his throat. The fidgeting persists.

That voice was exactly how it was two years ago.

How could Hilbert retain his voice, when Cheren's had changed, both as a result of time and as a result of the Relic Song being taught to him?

It felt almost like a dream, one Cheren wanted so desperately to wake from- the cruel, gray reality of Hilbert's absence would be better than this.

To see his best friend unchanged and untouched, just as he had last remembered him, as if the past two years didn't happen-

This was a trick meant to mock him, just like the illusion of a Zorua. A phantom of who his friend was, standing before him as if they belonged.

A phantom.

His skin presses against the sharpened edges of the plastic.

"Cheren, are you okay?"

The plume of smoke surrounding Hilbert grows, changing from a gloomy gray to an inky black.

That's it, right? This isn't Hilbert.

Just another nightmare in the flesh.

#bw/bw2 rewrite #burn heal #fic #surrealism cw #kuroshipping

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joaniejustwokeup · 4 months

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DPxDC Prompt:

The next blow sent the human tumbling into the wall. It wheezed and spat up a gob of blood, pulling itself up on trembling arms and legs.

Pathetic.

“So this is the mortal who captured our young king’s attention. The so-called warrior who he trusted with the sacred duty of guarding his core.”

A shadowed hand pinned it to the wall and it uselessly pawed at the blade-like claws pressed against its fragile throat.

“How a weakling like you seduced High King Phantom, I’ll never know.”

The human squeezed its eyes shut. I’m sorry Danny, it mouthed with cracked and bleeding lips.

The impudence.

Slammed into the ruined bricks once more, the human let out a breathless cry.

“You dare address him like that. You dare to call upon his living name!” Dagger sharp teeth dripped shadowy ectoplasm inches from the mortal’s flesh.

“I’m doing him a favor, disposing of you.”

There was silence.

Then.

The human looked up with glowing green eyes.

A wave of unearthly force erupted from its body.

A dual layered voice echoed out from its miserable throat.

“Oh you just made a BIG mistake.”

#dpxdc #dpxdc prompt #ghost king danny #the ship is up to you #my writing #free to use #tw injury #hehe Danny is aaaaaaangry #I mean at this point the ghost is just ASKING to be torn a new one #I imagine Danny’s not quite healed yet so he’s sort of #using his love’s body to manifest his power #but it took him a few desperate angsty minutes to figure out How #hence the ghostly beat down #Extra Angst Potential if in manifesting his power the posession is also burning his love interest out from the inside- damaging body & soul #‘The power of the Ghost King is not meant to be wielded by mortal hands’ sort of thing #dp x dc

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nethnad · 6 months

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thinking about time lords and their fucked up little society again and i just realized how devastating the revelation of the drums in the end of time is in relation to the master's character.

because of all the renegade time lords in the universe, i think it's the master who most exemplifies the philosophical outlook that the time lords have towards the rest of the universe. they're stuffy observers, administrators, yes - but this position is one they've decided for themselves because of this concept of supremacy over other life forms. imposed and upheld this idea that other species that lack a time sense are less-than, primitive. and the master buys into this hard.

and i mean... compared to the doctor, the master is good at being a time lord. he buys into these supremacist concepts, this idea that every other species (and especially humans) is practically a meaningless ant in the grand scheme of the universe. takes it to the extreme, yes, but its the same underlying principle. he's a good student (despite whatever chibnall might think) - that one time lord from terror of the autons (identity forever a mystery) (its brax) even says "he did receive a higher degree of cosmic science than you." the master could play their game if he wanted to. he's remarkably comfortable with being on gallifrey/the idea of gallifrey(in eot/tlotl) than the doctor ever is. where the doctor avoids the subject of the lord presidency like the plague, the master is like "well if you kill the president you ARE the president! and then you have all of gallifrey!" and when the doctor destroys gallifrey (nominally), the master tries to rebuild it in the sound of drums/last of the time lords. tries to emulate their society. honor them in his little fucked up way. he brings them back from the time war!

and what does he get for it? how did the time lords treat him in response?

they decide to implant the sound of drums in his head, stretching back until he's a child. puts this insufferable noise, this splitting headache, in his head for his entire life. all so that they may live while he dies. because he is diseased, because of them. he has swallowed the pill, bought their propaganda, he has followed the rules, he tried to rebuild them he tried. and in response he is chewed up and spit out like trash so that rassilon's god complex can survive while the universe crumbles.

how crushing must that be to someone? to have your whole worldview - that you are better, you are chosen, you are special - come crumbling down in a few short moments? to see the revered founder-god of the civilization you have so desperately tried to revive look at you and say "you are diseased," even though he was the one to poison you in the first place?

and as his heart is torn to pieces... when rassilon says "no more," and charges his gauntlet, the master - who has spent countless lives fighting death with his bare hands - does not move.

part of me thinks he does not want to.

#and this is why i think if the master didn't get vacuumed into the time war in eot he would have had a mid-mid-mid-life crisis #and then probably just traveled with the doctor to do some gay soul searching #you gotta hold on to something when your entire worldview just got smashed to pieces. might as well be your sad wet cat of a boyfriend #he burns down a small village one day and ten is like finally... nature is healing...#i have an essay due uhhh negative a week ago but this thought grabbed my brain and would not let go #simm!master #the master #doctor who #dw #time lords #tensimm #<- mentioned in tags #may be lowkey incomprehensible i wrote this at one am

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sutekiniichan · 8 months

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I wanted to see 98 Meryl in the black turtleneck and jumpsuit look from late Trimax so I drew over some screenshots. Partly spurred on by @eomma-jpeg's 98-based Knives domestication fic in the meadow where Meryl eventually starts wearing this.

#Meryl Stryfe #Vash the Stampede #Milly Thompson #Trigun 1998 #Trigun #screenshot edits #the fic is also slow burn millyons and vashmeryl it's great #also has references to past millywood and vashwood #all that angst and healing good stuff #go read it

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lolottes · 4 months

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Danny walked the streets of Gotham

he was hungry.

His steps were slow and I was still in pain, but under his abdominal bandages his wounds were much better.

but he was hungry.

he did not know since when he was in town.

he was hungry.

He didn't know what time it was, but an alarm sounded.

He was hungry.

but it wasn't the noise that woke him up, no, there was… a smell? no, it wasn't caught by his nose, but it made him salivate.

he was hungry.

His gums itched while his teeth took on a ghostly shape despite his human body.

he was hungry.

The smell, for lack of a better term, led him to the center of noise and bright light.

he was hungry.

as he mingled with a tense crowd he began to "see" his target even with his eyes closed. good thing because he was hungry. and his eyes must have glowed in response behind his eyelids.

he was so hungry.

the crowd seemed more than willing to let him pass as he approached his target's voice, it was so loud, it must have been speaking into a megaphone or microphone.

he was hungry, but not for long…

jokers: hoooo, we have a brave volunteer~

His food came down from its perch, probably the roof of a car. it was moving towards him, holding something out with confidence

jokers handing a microphone to Danny: a few words from our volunteer?

Danny: …I'm hungry…

His food seemed destabilized, but he continued to move closer, finally opening his eyes, seeing the reflection of their light in those of his food who had a little reflex of unnecessary recoil. One last big step and he was almost chest to chest.

The crowd didn't really know what they were looking at, the child stretched out his arm towards the jokers chest then when he pulled him back with some gently luminous light in his hands, the jokers collapsed to the ground like a puppet whose string have been cut off. Even before the jokers had finished falling, the child put the light in his mouth and a cracking sound echoed through the shocking crowd.

Danny sighed in relief, not satisfaction because it was one of the worst things he had ever eaten. But he feels SO MUCH BETTER now!

he wasn't hungry anymore

… For now

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #danny fenton #joker #ghost/ecto hunger #hurt danny #feral danny #survival instinct #Danny in need of ecto: healing burns his reserves much faster than he can produce them on his own and he has not finished healing #brain fog because of starvation and pain #jokers is getting too close from where danny was resting #the jokers died and came back so many times that he had a core / proto core #danny crunched him in a daze #an altered state of thought #technically the jokers is not dead his body is (almost) in perfect condition #danny did this in front of witnesses but he citizens have no idea what was happening #the thugs saw the child have dazzling eyes then bite something with non-human teeth weird then the light in his eyes went #yes danny could have attacked jason if he had entered danny's sphere of perception #even if jason would have immediately moved away rather than approaching with confidence like the joker in front of this child with a strang #for the moment Danny has eaten enough in any case #he is going to return to his hiding place to “hybernate” and heal #danny is still not fully awake he is acting like a sleepwalker #my #prompt #my prompts

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orcelito · 5 months

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showing off the commission i got from @ruporas for my fic, In the Next Life!

i'm still so incredibly excited about this. it's been some months since the story event that caused these scars, but i wanted SO BADLY to be able to see what they'd actually Look like... & Here They Are.

ruporas rendered the scars So Well, i just cant stop Looking at them... there's a Fresh & a Healed version, which ruporas was kind enough to give me without additional charge (Thank U Again😭😭) so i get to see what it looks like at different stages.

Lichtenberg Figures. in terms of actual scarring, lightning strikes that people survive don't tend to leave permanent scars, but the lichtenberg figures that they (usually temporarily) leave behind are just So Cool... Now, what happens when you get someone who can survive an amount of electricity/lightning that would be Frankly Lethal to any normal human person?

This :]

#speculation nation #trigun #vash the stampede #vash #in the next life #itnl shit #itnl art #there's a certain amount of Suspension Of Disbelief surrounding this whole injury #do i think it's necessarily realistic? not really. but the fun thing about fiction (especially for a nonhuman character like vash) is #I Do What I Want.#and so i DID shoot him with (what shouldve been) a lethal amount of lightning and it DID leave him with (what wouldve been) 4th degree burn #but his healing ability is fucking insane so it really only put him out of commission for a week or so #functionally. he's still dealing with pain from it though (not that he's gonna admit That to anyone) but yeah #im so in love with how ruporas drew the scars overlapping. he mentioned he did research for it and MAN it really paid off #and. man. vash really does look Chewed the Fuck Up huh #ultimately tho just one more scar for the collection! it just happens to be.. the most extensive single scar lol #but he'll be fiiine he's totally fiiine (pay no attention to the world-weary look in his eyes)(he's totally fine guys everything is Fine)#alternate caption for this commission piece: Chewing on him Chewing on him Chewing on him #god ruporas's art is so fuckin good. best money ive ever spent

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antihibikase2 · 6 months

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Burn Heal : Prologue

Ice Burn : The turn after using this move, the user surrounds the target with an ultracold, freezing wind to inflict damage. This may also leave the target with a burn.

Five consecutive knocks in a rhythm against an aging wood, followed by two quieter ones.

"Hijo? Are you done?"

Cheren Slater takes one last look at the tall mirror, glass decorated by once vibrant, now faded stickers of Pokemon in cartoonish masks and outfits.

The big bow settled in the center of his pastel pink smock top was a lovely touch- it looked heavy at first, and he initially worried that such a large accessory would weigh down on the delicate fabric.

But no, it stayed in place like a little Ribombee would to a flower- just like he himself had, a fragile creature in wait.

"Hijo?"

The door creaks open, and the familiar bun sitting atop Marian Blake's head comes into view. She gives Cheren a few seconds to think before she allows herself in the shared bedroom of her child and her ward.

Though, he might as well be her child at this point, shouldn't he?

Empty indigo eyes blink at his own reflection, before a thin smile stretched across his lips.

"Sorry, I was just, ah, making sure I looked presentable."

"Prese-?! Hijo, you look more than presentable! Look at you, you're going to steal the spotlight away from the Pokemon in this outfit!"

Like an actor with a script, this was Cheren's cue to let out a shy little laugh from his throat, no matter how much it stung.

"You're quite the flatterer, Miss Bla-"

"Oh, we've talked about this, hijo. As long as you're under my roof, you're not just Nathaniel's teacher, okay? You're a child under my care- call me auntie."

Not even a second passes when another thought comes to her mind.

"Better yet, call me tita. It's not too late for you to familiarize yourself with your Hoenn roots."

How optimistic of her, for her words were true; Cheren Slater was still youthful, mere months away from turning seventeen.

If he so wished, he had his whole life ahead of him to further his connection with his Hoenn roots, especially as he had earned himself a seat at the league, who would always be so kind as to send him on a research trip to his desired region if he just asked.

Unfortunately, Cheren Slater was an emptied vessel, whose life had ended just weeks ago in the coldness of the Giant Chasm.

His dream of basking under the Hoenn sun was purely out of reach, and to think otherwise would only be lying to himself and the people around him.

Still, he was quite the liar- he pleases her attempts at reassuring him of his place in her home, hoping it would be enough to deter her from worrying even further.

"I'll think about it."

Thankfully, she's not pushy.

She is, however, observant.

What Cheren was wearing now was noticeably lighter and looser than the semi-formal uniform he had taken to wearing when he accepted the offer of being Aspertia trainer school's teacher

Realistically, it shouldn't have taken him almost half an hour for preparations, especially with how responsible he was with every second of his time.

But then again, even when kept out of the loop, her son had told her enough of what she needed to hear- that the poor child standing before her now was undergoing a crisis of his reality, and would spend hours upon hours gazing into his own reflection to confirm his own existence.

If she hadn't checked up on him, Cheren would have lost himself in his own dreams once more, a sight that she, as a nurse, had seen quite often during her days of work.

She may not fully understand what he was specifically going through, but-

"You seem to be ready now, aren't you? Why don't you head downstairs with the kids, I'll give your Hilda friend a call and tell her you're all set to go,"

"Oh, I can-"

"I'll do it, hijo. You make sure Nathaniel doesn't forget his tickets- he's league champion and he's still quite irresponsible with his things."

As Cheren grabs his things, the moody little Minccino that had been sleeping on a bed by the foot of the mirror scampers after him, climbing up his back and settling into his shoulder.

Just as she's about to take her aged Xtransceiver out of her duster's pocket, she couldn't help but notice the lingering smell of white jasmines in her son's room.

"Strange," There was a small chuckle in her voice. "Was there a funeral?"

#bw/bw2 rewrite #burn heal #fic #kuroshipping

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feyreswaterybowels · 13 days

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⭒The Silent One⭒

#2 Azriel x Fem!OC

⭒Part 1⭒Part 2⭒Part 3⭒Part 4⭒

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Cassandra decides to join the IC for dinner. Things feel weird and wrong but also…safe and comfortable. She opens up to them about her past traumas and gets to know more about them.

Warnings/Tags: mentions physical and visual sexual abuse in the recent past. describes physical violence. trauma. mute character. slow burn. protective!azriel. protective!IC.

Authors Note: All reblogs, likes and comments are welcome, appreciated and encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for the next part! Regular italics are inter thoughts while bold italics are her communicating with other people mentally.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

“Relax,” Nuala cooed as she helped Cassandra ease into the large bath, warm and floral scented.

Cassandra had never been in a bath like this. Only one suited for regular fae without wings. They had been cramped and uncomfortable and nearly impossible to bathe everywhere without hurting a wing. But this bath? It was huge and could easily fit multiple people with and without wings. It stretched all the way to one of those glassless windows where the water spilled over in a soothing stream.

She leaned back when Nuala prompted, letting her wings float in the water. It was so nice the way they felt so weightless. Nuala tilted her head back and their eyes met as she cupped her hands with water and poured it over Cassandra’s white hair. She lathered it with a nice smelling soap, massaging at her scalp.

It was difficult to lay there and relax while someone else washed her hair. It reminded her of the mistress, how when she bathed her and washed her hair it was rushed and rough and…and when she washed her hair like this she would sometimes push her head under the water and hold her there—

Cassandra bolted up with a gasp, hands coming up to wipe away the water that fell down from her hair and over her face, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She whirled around, wide eyes catching Nuala’s, trying to desperately apologize for what she had done. The female just shook her head gently.

“It’s okay,” She said, “would you like to be left alone for a moment?”

Cassandra considered this, she both wanted to be alone and have someone else around. But she nods her head. Cerridwen walked in then, a stack of something in her hand.

“Clothes for you,” she said, sitting the stack on a shelf across the room. “We will be back but if you finish with your bath and wish to dress before we return the clothes will be here.”

Cassandra nods. She doesn’t know what else to do, but the females seem to understand, offering her small nods in return before leaving the room—the heavy door closing as they leave the bedroom the bedroom.

She sinks down in the water once she’s sure she’s alone. So much has changed in such a short time and she’s still not sure if this is all real. These people…they could change any moment. Drag her from this huge room and throw her into a prison cell and use her for whatever they pleased.

Turning in the water she pushed herself towards the other end of the tub, the one that waterfalls over the edge. What she sees there takes her breath away, an audible gasp leaving her lips.

The first thing she notices is all the lights, it looked exactly like the painting she saw with Morrigan. There was so much to look at. But what she really wanted to see was the beautiful sight above that. The night sky. The thousands of stars twinkling above, surrounding a bright moon.

She could have cried looking at the sight. But not because she felt sad, she felt safe. Comfortable. Content. Like this was where she was meant to be.

Eventually she did get out of the bath, drying herself off with the fluffy white towel that was unnaturally warm. She stopped in front of the mirror, surprised at her own reflection. She looked so different from the last time she actually saw herself. Her skin that was once a golden caramel color was lighter and ashen, dark circles under her green eyes. Her white hair slicked back with water was thinner than when it used to fall in thick ringlets as a girl. Her rib cage and hip bones protruding in a way they always had but wished they hadn’t. She had wanted a thicker, fuller body like the girls she saw at the pleasure houses. A strong body like her mothers used to be. A body that could hold up her wings and maybe one day…fly.

She had gotten dressed before Nuala and Cerridwen returned. The clothes weren’t like anything she’d ever worn before. Cream colored pants that were lined with a fuzzy material that was softer than anything she’d ever worn before. The top was a matching cream, flowy top with sleeves that stopped at her elbows and buttoned up the back to accommodate her wings. The shoes were white, flat and slipped on her feet easily.

She chose not to attend dinner that night. She wasn’t sure she could stomach any food. The twins looked disappointed. Her decision had been made to gauge how she would be treated if she didn’t have dinner with this high lord male.

She didn’t leave her room the following day either.

Or the day after that.

No one bothered her. No one came to drag her from the room kicking and screaming. No one beat on the door or called her horrible names. No one held her down or forced the food into her mouth. In fact no one except Nuala and Cerridwen came to her room at all.

And when they came they would bring a small tray of food, she only ever drank the tea and ate the biscuit and left everything else. She didn’t want to take too much before knowing if she was expected to do something in return.

When she finally felt safe enough she agreed to dinner on her fourth night. Nuala bathed her again. She couldn’t help the panic that overcame her once again as the female washed her hair but she cooed at her, soothingly before getting up and leaving her to finish alone as she had the first night.

Cerridwen took on fixing her hair, drying and styling it into waves that fell over her shoulders. Once she was done and dressed Nuala put a cream on her face and spritzed her with something that smelled sweet.

When they were done she felt like a different person. She felt clean. Comfortable. Alive.

There wasn’t much time to dwell on her feelings of finally leaving the room before Nuala and Cerridwen pulled her up and escorted her down the maze of hallways.

“Just two doors down, you’ll find the dining room,” Cerridwen pointed down the hall with a small smile. Cassandra wanted to ask why they weren’t also joining but when she turned to face them they were just gone as if they disappeared into thin air.

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Walking into the dining room was a weird feeling. Cassandra didn’t feel like she belonged there. In the fancy room, with a huge table filled with foods…foods she had never seen before. The four people she had met three days ago—and another she hadn’t met, all sat around the table talking in hushed whispers.

Azriel was the first to look over. His eyes met hers and offered her a small smile. “Cassandra,” his deep voice greeted.

“I’m glad you decided to join us this evening, please come sit,” Rhysand said, standing and motioning to the empty seat next to him, where Azriel would be on her other side—Morrigan in front of her and Cassian next to her. The other female at the opposite end of the table from Rhysand.

Cassandra hesitated for only a moment before walking over and realizing that the chair was designed to accommodate wings. She wouldn’t have to sit at some weird angle to be comfortable. Her eyes meet Azriel’s, the gentle look on his face a comfort she needed. He stood from his spot, sliding the chair out and gesturing for her to sit.

She felt eyes on her as she scanned all of the food in front of her. She had never seen so much food.

“I trust everything went okay the last few days?” Rhysand asked as he took his own seat once again.

“I freaked out a little when Nuala was washing my hair…” Cassandra admitted, shoulders hunching in embarrassment.

“That’s okay, no need to be upset. You’ve been through a lot, it’s expected. Nuala and Cerridwen are understanding and won’t hold it against you. You have my word on that.”

She wanted to say thank you again but didn’t feel it was appropriate. She didn’t know what else to say so she nodded her head and looked towards that other female, freezing as she looked into glowing silver eyes. She had never seen anything so…beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

A snort to her side caught her attention and she looked at Rhysand.

“Sorry, I just heard that,” Rhysand said, Cassandra’s eyebrows pulled together before realization dawned on her. The comment about the other female… “Amren.” Rhys supply’s the name.

She looks back to the female, to those eyes that make her not want to look away.

“Hello, girl,” She greets, and it’s not a terrifying rumble, but a genuine greeting.

Cassandra offers a small smile, feeling a draw to the small female. No one else spoke so she reached for a plate but before her fingers could even graze it, it filled with food before her eyes. She blinked at it in shock, looking to Rhysand to see if he had done it.

There was a small smile on his lips as he shook his head.

“The house is enchanted, it does what it pleases. You wanted food so it filled your plate for you,” Azriel spoke, she looked over at him then back at the plate.

Oh, wow. She thought…the food had even been diced into smaller pieces as she had told Rhysand. Her eyes fell on the wine glass in front of her—she wouldn’t drink it, couldn’t, so she looked at Azriel again then around the room. Water. And just like that, a glass of water appeared in front of her.

Cassandra felt the corners of her mouth twitch up, eyes meeting Azriel’s again then Rhysands before she grabbed the glass of water.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

“It’s pretty awesome, right?” Cassian spoke, his long hair that had been pulled back earlier now fell to his shoulders.

Cassandra nodded in answer, sitting her glass back on the table. Rhys took his seat, grabbing his wine glass, silently observing the female as she reached for her fork.

“I’ve never had this much food before…”

Rhys isn’t surprised but he’s not expecting the words and they make his heart hurt.

“Eat as much as you’d like,” Rhys says warmly, watching as she scoops up some warm potatoes and brings them to her lips.

“Mm” she hums, eyes closing. “That’s so good!” Rhys doesn’t answer, he can tell she’s not speaking to him consciously, she’s just thinking, not a single mental shield to protect her fragile mind.

It’s the next bite that wipes the small mine from all the faces. No longer an exploratory bite but a ravenous one. One after another, eating quickly and without restraint. Eating in a way that meant she had been starving, had never had an adequate food supply, had never been allowed to eat more than what was given.

She didn’t speak and neither did they. None of them would tell her to stop or slow down, all having been there at some point in their lives. They had all known that hunger at one point or another. So they let her eat. And drink. And eat some more.

Potatoes. Greens. Fruit. Meat. Bread. A plate appeared next to her holding a slice of cake and she ate that too—she had never had cake before but no one else at the table knew that.

It’s only when her plate is empty that anyone speaks up. It’s Cassian that asks, “How do you feel you’re settling in?” It’s an attempt to bring about a conversation without making her uncomfortable.

Cassandra takes a slow sip of water, breathing deeply as she does before looking at Rhysand who nods in confirmation that he’ll give her answer.

“Honestly…I feel more comfortable here than I have ever felt anywhere else.”

“That’s wonderful! We want you to be as comfortable as possible,” Morrigan chimes in, excited as if she’d been waiting to talk to Cassandra for the past three days. “When we didn’t see you for three days we were worried—well I was. The boys wanted to give you some space.”

“I didn’t know what was expected of me,” she says, Rhysand repeats her and she’s met with confused frowns. “That’s why I stayed away, didn’t eat much. I didn’t know if anything would be…expected of me in return if I did.”

“You have no debt to us, Cassandra. Nothing is expected of you,” Rhysand speaks, his voice firm but gentle. “If you wish to come to dinner you eat your fill until you’re satisfied. If you need clothes you wear what you like and it’s yours to keep. Nothing will ever be taken or held against you as punishment of any kind.”

Cassandra blinks at him, feels the wetness in her eyes as she nods. There’s just one nagging question in her mind, one she needs an answer to before she gets too comfortable.

“Why am I here then?” She asks, setting her fork down on a freshly filled plate, half as full as before.

Rhysand lets out a sigh before telling the others what she’d asked.

“You are here because I received word from one of Azriel’s spies—I’ll give you a more in depth explanation on what that means at another time—that pleasure houses in my court were buying and selling females against their will,” Rhysand begins to explain. “See we have many pleasure houses in Velaris but it has always been law that consent is the main requirement for anyone involved. Those who work or visit have to be there because they want to be there.”

“So, when we got word this law had been broken, Rhys sent us out to patrol the pleasure houses,” Azriel said, drawing her attention to him, “he needed solid proof of the law being broken before he could step in. Cassian and I, we saw you there. Scared. Frightened. Clearly not there of your own free will and didn’t feel it was safe for you to stay there.”

Cassandra looked at him, taking in the shadows swirling around him. His kind hazel eyes, the blue siphons glowing on his scarred hands. Remembered how when her eyes first landed on him on the other side of those bars she had been absolutely terrified of him.

“What about the…Mistress?” She asked turning away from Azriel to look at Rhysand.

“You no longer have to call her mistress, her name is Kamari. She is still here in our cells, she’s not been harmed. We are working to gather some intel from her. Who her bosses are, where they are buying the females and any other information we can get from her. She’s been cooperative in giving us the information we need to stop this from happening to any other females,” Rhysand said, eying the female in front of him before looking to his second in command.

“Do you have any information that may help us, girl? Anything we could use against that female to get more information?” Amren asks, fixing her smoky eyes on the female.

Cassandra was quiet for a moment, thinking. Trying to piece together everything she could remember. She looks up and nods her head. Everyone seemed to sit a little straighter, their full attention on her alone.

“My father is the one who sold me to a male named Vale. Blue skin, a long deep scar across his face, black eyes…mean and very strong—”

Rhysand hold his hand up, relaying the information to Azriel and you watch curiously as one of his shadows darts away and out of a window.

“Cassandra, do you mind if I open up a channel for everyone to hear what you say to me? It will help us find these people,” Rhysand asks, she doesn’t need to think before she nodded. She wanted to help in any way she could. Help any girls going through what she did and stopping more from going through it.

“Please, continue,” Rhysand encouraged.

“The male, Vale, had bought other females. He kept me me in a dark room under his home with three other females. He—he raped one of the girls many time but not me or the other two girls. He said he would get more money for us if we stayed…untouched.” Cassandra’s stomach rolled at the memories. Nauseated, remembering the cries of that poor girl every time that man came down stairs and hurt her. She could see the anger in the eyes that surrounded her, could practically feel it radiating from them. Their fists and jaws clenched tightly, wings rigid and shoulders taunt. But she continued.

“I stayed there for a few months before he took me to that…pleasure house? I’m not sure what happened to the other girls. I think he may have kept the one he raped.”

“Do you know their names?” Cassian asks and she’s nods. How could she ever forget them?

“Seera, Juno and Neema. I believe Seera and Juno were sister but I’m not completely sure. We tried not to talk too much because it made the male very angry,” She took a deep breath, trying not to remember the time he had nearly crushed her throat for merely asking to use the bathroom.

Unbeknownst to her she had sent that mental image to them who were seething with anger at what this poor girl had gone through.

“Once I was at that place I was introduced to Miss—I was introduced to Kamari,” She continued, needing to get away from the memories of that male. “She was in charge of my training. She stripped me naked, told me I would never own a pair of clothes again. That I was to be naked and ready for any male to take me whenever they pleased. I was to learn things that would…please these males. Anytime I refused I was beaten. So, for months I watched other females pleasure males in many ways. But only watched. They said—she said I would be sold for a lot of money for being untouched. That whoever paid the most could do whatever they wanted to me. When I saw the two of you I thought—” She swallowed thickly eyes shooting between Azriel and Cassian. “I though you were going to—”

Her voice cracks and she looks away. Morrigan pushes out of her chair, walking around the table. “Can I hug you?” She asks.

All Cassandra can do is nod letting Morrigan wrap strong arms around her. Hugging her tightly. Holding her in a way that reminded her of her mother before she died. After a moment Morrigan pulls away offering a napkin to wipe her eyes.

“Cassandra, dear, we can be done for today if it’s too much to continue,” Rhysand offers gently.

She nods gently, feeling as if maybe she wasn’t much help at all. The rest of dinner is spent in silence, Cassandra hunched into herself while the other four fae think about killing everyone who hurt this innocent girl and many more.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

It’s later that evening when Cassandra slips from her room. The stone floor is cold under her feet and the satin nightgown doesn’t do much to keep the cold from her skin so she tucks her wings around her body.

She makes her way to the roof of the house, a training area the twins had told her was up here—they had also told her it was the best place to view the stars.

It’s a breathtaking sight. The wind whips her hair around as she walks to the edge. The lively city sparkling below while the endless sky shines above. Beautiful. She sighs gazing at the sight of the silver moon and tapestry of stars.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up here at this time,” Cassandra spins around, sighing in relief when she spotted Azriel, she hadn’t heard him come out at all.

“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep. I always loved looking at the stars,” She said, grateful Rhys had made it to where she could communicate—at least with the few people here.

Azriel gives her a lopsided smile that makes her heart stutter. “No need to apologize, that's why I’m out here too. The night sky has always been…soothing.”

She turns back to the ledge as he walks closer.

“You know, my father he was ashamed to have children with wings,” Cassandra said, as Azriel watched her from the side, her white hair shining in the moonlight—those green eyes glowing again. “He kept us locked away, and didn't want anyone to see us. My mother had her wings taken when she was a teenager. She said normally they just clipped them but her father was especially cruel and completely took hers away. Well, when my father was drunk enough or didn’t come home some evening my mother would bring us out and let us look at the stars, she taught us the constellations. And I got to see Starfall with her only one time before she died. It was…the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. After she died I never saw the stars again—not until the night you and Cassian took me away from that horrible place.”

Azriel did his best to simmer his anger, to clutch his shadows tightly that so badly wanted to reach out and comfort the female—to wipe away the glistening tears on her cheeks. She looks over at him then and he looks up at the sky so as not to reach out for her.

“Your mother seems like a lovely woman,” He says, hoping the opportunity to talk about her mother may make her feel better.

The smile that came over her face wasn’t what he was expecting. The way it lit up her face had his shadows singing in his ear. Beautiful. She’s beautiful.

She wiped her cheeks with one hand and nodded.

“She was amazing. She tried to protect us from him but she was just as afraid of him as we were. She didn’t know how to get out. But she took care of us. She was still young when she died—he says she died from taking some kind of herbs, that she took her own life. But I—I always believed he did it.” Azriel took in a shuttery breath.

“I’m sorry,” He said, struggling to find the words to comfort her.

“Me, too. I wish I could have protected her the way she protected me. But now she’s up there with the stars looking over us. Watching me, I think she would be happy I got out. I just hope I can help protect someone else the way I should have protected her.” She folded her arms across her chest and turned away from the ledge. “I think I’ll try to get some sleep. Goodnight, Azriel.”

Azriel watched her walk away. Night gown blowing in the wind, the beautiful broken girl disappearing into the shadows.

tag list: @aelinwya @starlightandsouls @fullmoon-94 @aetherl0l @caticorn61 @lilah-asteria @blackgirlmagicforever @div94

#Cassandra my sweet girl #she’s trying her best #slow burn #slow burn but as you can tell Azriel’s catching the feels #I don’t want to rush things though baby Cassandra has a lot to process and heal from #I think it may be a he fell first she fell harder deal #Azriel’s gonna do everything in his power to protect her they’re gonna be best friends too #found family is the best trope btw #acotar #azriel #azriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction

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phoenix----rising · 7 months

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