#lord send revival

[nejackdaw]

Had DnD on the mind recently after a couple posts about it popped up on my dash, so I figured I'd share the ref sheet for a character I hoped to play soon (enlarge to banish the blur)

His name is Cariton Corbett and he's like if Jekyll and Hyde were a really wretched little priest

Never known peace in his life tbh. He's a grave cleric for a Bloodborne inspired campaign one of my DnD friends was cooking up (hopefully that's still in the cards lol.) It took forever to get a solid design idea, but then I picked MHR back up and uh

"What if I combined a tailcoat with a cassock > you're a pain in my ass but you and your upgraded armor are so cool > hey what if I added inverted cathedral window shapes and cobweb tassels"

#he is soooooo prematurely grey #also yes his name is cariton corbett (car-iton corvette) because i think its funny #hes only supposed to have one gauntlet. i forgot and added a second aosjosns but thats his shield arm he doesnt need it #anyway hopefully the campaign is still on but our track record hasnt been great lately lmao fingers crossed #(i am not hiding the idea for a revivication campaign in my pocket what) #(ive co dmed two campaigns and multiple one shots i have that down at least #anyway not putting this in the tag i dont feel like it lmao #i will put it in #the jackdaw treasury #now theres a tag i havent used in a while #anyway i should probably level out the front of his coat the v shape was an accidental design stage carryover #forgot i was supposed to change it #hes sopping wet and pathetic but hell also hit you with 'mercy is my lords job mine is to send you to him' #absolutely wretched little half starved feral guy #also i should note NO he doesnt have lil flames on his boots #that is grave dirt but everything was already black and i needed a different color #otherwise id forget hes fucking dirty

[songofwizardry]

pleased to report that in one (1) night I have turned back into my fourteen year old self, channelling Sam Gamgee, because I just really want to see the elves and go to Rivendell.

#the lord of the rings musical took my heart and left with it #in the best way #i will never recover from this #it doesn't take much to get me back on my 'let's all go Imladris' boat tbh! #but it has happened #send help #anyway for those of you unaware of the lotr musical it is incredible #i have been obsessed with its music since i was 14 #and i got to see the revival of it last night and again i will never recover #ahhhhhh #tolkien #lotr #lord of the rings musical #text post #my post #2023 is an experience

[wickedwritingswickedgame]

“Don’t tempt me” - Madelyne to Mal

Malekith bristled, dark eyes flashing dangerously. His hearts beat wildly in his chest, but he didn't move, didn't back down. He did, however, shove the storm skirting around like lightning inside him further down. Madelyne didn't need to see what a very real threat her words proposed.

"Please," he shot back. "Your powers would do you little good inside my head. I have seen and experienced more in my lifetimes than your kind could fathom. It is in your best interest to stay out."

Please, don't make me share what I've been through.

#the accursed time lord #the black queen #children of the broken queue #since I have revived mal #you're welcome to send asks and such to the accursedninth! #but I understand if you're more comfortable here :3

[icaruspendragon]

hiii, this might be weird, but who is Lazarus? I'm not religious, so I've tried searching for who he is, but I can't seem to get a clear answer and was wondering if you could explain him?

ah yes, lazarus of bethany. a man i consider to be equal parts friend and foe.

lazarus lived in bethany with his two sisters, mary and martha. and when we meet him, he’s sick. so much so that his sisters send for jesus of nazareth saying, “lord, your dear friend is very sick.”

jesus of nazareth was in jerusalem when he received the message. and despite being only a few miles from bethany, and despite jesus loving martha and mary and lazarus, he waited. he didn’t go to them straight away. he waited. he waited until lazarus died and then said, “lazarus’ sickness will not end in death. no, it happened for the glory of god so that the son of god will receive glory from this.”  

and when jesus finally made it to bethany he was told lazarus had already died. that he has already been in the grave for four days. and when martha, sister of lazarus got word that jesus was coming, she went to meet him. and mary, sister of lazarus did not. and when martha saw jesus she said to him, “lord, if only you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

and jesus said to her, “your brother will rise again.”

but then mary arrived and she saw jesus and she fell at his feet and she said, “lord, if only you had been here, my brother would not have died.” and she wept over her brother. because she loved him and he was gone. and jesus should have been there. because if jesus had been there, her brother would not have died.

and jesus saw her weeping. and he saw the other people wailing with her. because lazarus was deeply loved. and now he was gone. and they had sent for jesus. they had prayed for a miracle. and that miracle didn’t come until it was four days too late. and they didn’t know that jesus was going to bring lazarus back. they didn’t know that jesus had waited that long to teach a lesson. to prove a point. they just knew jesus was too late. and now they were forced to grieve.

and then a deep anger welled up in jesus. and he was deeply troubled. and jesus asks, “where have you put him?” and the people say, “lord, come and see.” and he does. and when he sees, jesus weeps. when he sees, we get the shortest verse in the bible. a mere two words to sum up an entire town’s grief. two words to convey the loss of a sibling. two words are offered for the preventable death of a loved man.

jesus is four days too late. and jesus?

jesus wept.

and the people who loved lazarus turned to him and said to jesus, “see how much he loved him!”

jesus loved lazarus. and then he let him die.

and some of the people said about jesus “this man healed a blind man. couldn’t he have kept lazarus from dying?”

and then jesus, who knew all along that he would revive lazarus. jesus, who let all those people mourn. jesus, who let those sisters lose their brother. jesus, who let them weep. jesus, who wept with them. that very same jesus said to those who loved lazarus, who mourned him, jesus of nazareth said to them, “didn’t i tell you that you would see god’s glory if you believe?”

and then the stone of lazarus’ tomb was rolled aside. and then jesus looked up to heaven and said, “father, thank you for hearing me. you always hear me, but i said it out loud for the sake of all these people standing here, so that they will believe you sent me.” and then jesus shouted, “lazarus, come out!” and he did.

lazarus the dead man came out, his hands and feet and face wrapped still in burial cloth. and then jesus of nazareth told them, “unwrap him and let him go!”

and then lazarus of bethany became lazarus of the grave. lazarus of the grave that will never be left behind even though he has risen and relinquished. lazarus of the grave who did not make good his escape unscathed. lazarus of the grave who will now check each darkened doorway as death and his sting is keenly felt.

lazarus was a man. a man whose family loved him. a man whose sisters sent for a miracle. a man whose sisters mourned him in the four days it took for that miracle to show up. a man who was made an example for no reason other than being loved by jesus. a thing that we are all told to be. loved by our savior.

lazarus is a man who makes me wonder three things. firstly, if jesus had been there that my brother may not have died. secondly, if jesus of nazareth too weeps for me. and thirdly, if jesus loves us and we in turn love him too like the scriptures command, why does he use us in the lessons he teaches.

why must we be the men he makes believers of?

so lazarus was just a man whose crime was loving jesus. and martha was just a girl whose crime was loving her brother. and they both suffered a miracle because of it.

#cw religion #yeah it’s always time to religious trauma post on main #lazarus was just a man #lazarus was brother #and my brother was a man #and i am a sister #and i too loved jesus as martha and mary did #so why did he get to come back when my brother did not? #i also tend to think of lazarus as dean winchester before i think of him as lazarus from the bible lmao #hence the title of my book being ‘lazarus rises (amongst other things)’ #bc of hit cw show supernatural #and the bible too ig #but mainly supernatural

[animentality]

the funny thing about the Black Butler revival is that Sebaciel is taking a lot of heat right now, here in the year of our lord and savior 2024, in which all ships are problematic and toxic.

because it's a pedo ship.

which is the most perfect low hanging fruit in all of anti existence.

but like, Sebaciel is really a microcosm of pro vs anti ship discourse in general, right?

everyone insists oh you like Sebaciel? you must be a pedophile... while totally ignoring that a lot of fucking teenage girls read Black Butler and imagine themselves AS CIEL. they have a crush on SEBASTIAN.

that's why they ship them. they're not generally lusting for the minor, they're imagining themselves as the minor, being MINORS themselves, and have crushes on the suave sexy demon guy... because that's literally budding adolescence in a nut shell.

Sure there are people who lust for ciel... but it's a fucking shonen. it's for teens.

Teens are allowed to have fucking crushes on Ciel and Naruto and Ichigo. They're also allowed to have crushes on adults, WHO ARE NOT REAL and can't return their affections or hurt them in literally any way other than fictional related trauma.

is it really that shocking that teens are projecting themselves on/lusting for the fucking kid protagonists? you know, like they're generally going to do??? because they're hormonal but also bc it's very normal for humans to have goddamn crushes on human shaped (and less human shaped) things???

and is it really that shocking that teens girls would lust after Sebastian?

are you telling them they can't do that, and then also ship their little self insert goth child with the object of their affection?

and also.

ALSO.

the harder thing for these people to swallow...

fucking adults can ship anything they want too.

literally who gives a fuck

just shipping a problematic age difference ship doesn't make you anything at all.

being an asshole in fandom spaces does, like harassing people for shipping or not shipping Sebaciel, sending death threats, doxing, whatever, but just the act of jerking it to Sebaciel fanfics, or writing them for yourself and friends, is not a goddamn crime.

nor is it anything other than a Catholic sin.

so I'm laughing at the modern discourse, as angry adults and teens try to cancel Sebaciel.

tale as old as time. but also Sebaciel is the fucking OG.

The og of queerbait shotacon nonsense.

you weren't gonna stop people in 2008, you won't stop them now.

just hang out in your own space and leave other people alone.

also just fyi. I don't ship this.

I ship toxic old man yaoi.

but I'm rolling my eyes and slapping you if I see you in the wild insisting a Sebaciel artist is a pedophile guilty of a real crime in real life.

get some fucking perspective.

#black butler #sebaciel

[magalhaessims]

VON HAUNT ESTATE - MAXIS-MATCH CC BUILD

Formerly the residence of Lord and Lady Shallot, the Von Haunt Estate has undergone restoration and now welcomes the public as a museum. Inside, visitors can explore the personal art collection and belongings of the estate's previous lords. However, a word of caution: the lords were known to be quite possessive of their possessions, and there are occasional rumors of their ghosts wandering the grounds... It's likely nothing to worry about. If you want to check out the construction progress, watch the YouTube video linked below.

NOT CC FREE 

Lot Type: Chalet Gardens

Size: 40x30 

World: Windenburg 

Enable bb.moveobjects before placing in your game!

📺 WATCH THE SPEED BUILD HERE ✨

Origin ID: MagalhaesSims (remember to enable custom content on!) DOWNLOAD

CC USED IN THIS BUILD:

NOTE: For convenience, some of the CC is included in the Download Folder. Please put it in your Mods Folder along with the CC linked below.

Amoebae: Pile In Carpet || CharlyPancakes: Chalk | Precious Promises || TheClutterCat: Busy Bee | Dandy Diary | Fairylicious (Jewelry Holder) | Hello Horses (Prize) | Mellow Moods (Candle) | Spring Spirits (Perfumes) | Sunny Sundae || Felixandre: Berlin | Chateau Set | Colonial | Florance | Gatsby (Flower) | Gothic Revival (Painting) | Grove | Paris | Soho (Bathroom Mirros) || Harrie: Brutalist Bathroom | Klean | Kwatei (Door) | Octave | Spoons || Hose Of Harlix: Baysic Bathroom | Orjanic (Vase) | The Kichen (Plant) || Lilis Palace: Intarsia Heirlroom (Decor) || LittleDica: Delicato Living (Glass Vases) | GreasyGoods (Bathroom Stalls) | Rise&Grind || Peacemaker-ic: Creta Kitchen (Mini Fridge) | Hinterlands Kitchen (Stool) || Pierisim: Auntie Vera | Calderone | Coldbrew CoffeeShop | Combles (Decor) | Domaine Du Clos (Decor) | Pantry | The Office | Unfold (Clutter) | Woodland Ranch (Paintings) || PlumbobTeaSociety: Rustic Romance (Cake Holder) || S-Imagination: Japandi Dining Room (Plant) || Sixam-CC: Home Office || Syboulette: Fancy Set || Taurus Design: Lilith Chilling Are: Coffee Corner

The CC Sets above are the main ones I used to decorate this specific building and you can find all the links to the creators’ sites on my Resource Page. However, if you can’t find something specific, you can send me a WCIF and I’ll try to help you find it!

My content will always be free and right away available to everyone, but if you want to, you can show your support through my Ko-Fi Page. Your donation will always be much appreciated!

Credits: @pictureamoebae @felixandresims @harrie-cc @lilis-palace @littledica @peacemaker-ic @pierisim @s-imagination @imfromsixam @taurusdesign @maxismatchccworld @mmfinds @mmoutfitters @s4realtor @coffee-houses-finds @sssvitlanz

#the sims 4 #ts4 maxis match #ts4 build #ts4 cc build #ts4 speed build #ts4 windenburg #ts4 castle estate #build #download

[melrodrigo]

A little scorpion goes a long way - W.A.

Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader

Summary: You bring back an old friend.

Warnings: ooc wednesday, R being a simp

Word Count: 2k+

A/N: I’m bored, here’s a little Wednesday oneshot like promised!

Learning at Nevermore Academy had its perks and downsides, but one of your favorite things about the school was how little they cared about students’s powers.

You had no face? You’re just another student at Nevermore. You’re a freak emo girl? Doesn’t matter. You could revive things from the dead? Who cares?

You; were apart of the latter group. It’s not that you were so powerful to the point you could bring actual human beings to life, but enough to save a dying plant or two. Only, anytime you did it, there would always be ass-kicking consequences.

You’d always have a terrible headache and a killer cold after. Skin all colorless, resembling the look of a character from a Tim Burton movie.

When you had first met your now girlfriend of 11 months Wednesday Addams, she had shared a heartfelt story about her pet scorpion, Nero, and how he had gotten killed by some idiot normie kids.

It was heartbreaking. You swore then and there that as soon as you got the chance you’d try and find the scorpion and bring it back to life.

It also just so happened that yours and Wednesday’s one year anniversary was coming up, pegging the perfect opportunity for such a gift.

It was really hard to try and discreetly ask Wednesday where she had buried her pet scorpion without sounding suspicious.

So you didn’t.

Instead, you called up her father. It wasn’t any less scary, since he was still an Addams, and the father of your girlfriend, but at least you knew he was a bit softer than the rest of the family.

“Hellomr.addamscouldipleaseaskyouifyoyreawarewherewednesdayburiedherpetscorpionforagift?” You stumbled out, completely unintelligible.

“Hello? Who is this?” Came his booming voice from the other side of the phone.

A long paused sounded, you trying to calm down and wipe your sweaty palms against Wednesday’s sheets.

“Hey Mr.Addams, it’s YN. Would you happen to know where Wednesday buried her pet scorpion all those years ago? I need it for a gift im making her.” You said, as slowly as you could, but it still came out as a bit of a ramble.

He barked out a laugh, and your face flushed bright red. You thanked the lords that you decided to do this on the phone instead of in real life.

“Of course darling, it’s right in our backyard. Would you like me to send it to you? Me and Morticia need an idea for date night anyway. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled with grave digging!”

You let out a relieved sigh and a slight chuckle, shaking your head at the Addams Family antics.

“Yes, that would be amazing, thank you Mr. Addams.” You breathe in relief.

“Please, call me Gomez.”

There was a pause of uncertainty on your end before answering, “Of course….Mr.Gomez.”

A sound uncanny to a door swinging open had you turning around hurriedly, and hanging up before Mr. Gomez could even utter another word.

Wednesday stood there, looking unbothered; eyes half lidded until they locked with yours.

“What’s wrong with you? Why do you look like that?” She asked, eyes narrowed. You smiled a little at her tone, because it wasn’t one of annoyance, but rather of worry. Maybe you were turning her a bit soft after all.

You smile shyly, striding up to Wednesday but stopping just short in front of her, giving her time to pull away if she wanted.

When she didn’t, and in fact, leaned a little closer; you closed the distance and gave her a peck on the cheek.

“I’m amazing.” You breathed against her cheek, lips moving toward her neck.

She titled it up a bit, giving you more access to wander around as you please. Rigid hands found your waist, and she squeezed them slightly.

You pull away grinning.

“Oh no, you’re not getting it yet. Plus, tomorrow’s our anniversary, don’t you want it to be extra romantic?” You teased.

She let out a huff and crossed her arms, clearly displeased.

“I dont see what difference one day has.” She mumbled under her breath, still staring you down.

“As romantic as that is, I have to go.” You tell her, squeezing her finger once. All she does is give you a curt nod and returns to her desk.

-

A thing you learned later that day was that Gomez Addams was a man of his word. Not even a couple hours later, a package had arrived for you.

Inside the little shoe box was a photo of the couple grave digging, smiling wider than you’ve ever seen them; and the corpse of a certain infamous scorpion.

“Nero! Ha!“ You exclaimed, jumping up and down in excitement. You inspected the little scorpion, it was tiny enough; should be no sweat to bring it back.

You were extremely wrong.

Considering the thing was dead for almost 10 years; it took an absurd amount of energy out of you.

God if you thought bringing plants back to life was hard, this thing was something you’ve never seen before. Strong and vicious, shooting a sharp pain through you as you connected the back of the scorpion to the palm of your hand.

At one point you seriously thought you were going to pass out. Sweat formed at your face and your vision was starting to get a little blurry.

And to add salt to the wound, the moment the scorpion was brought back, it decided to jump the person who had so graciously brought it back to life.

Leaving multiple scars on the side of your neck, before you could wrestle it away from you and into the pet box you had bought the week before.

Holy shit. I need a rest.

With your vision blurred and head pounding a million miles per second, you collapsed onto the bed, letting the world encompass you in a dark black haze.

-

You’re awaken the next day by an uninterested looking Wednesday, (that might just be how she always looks) hovering over you in the bed. You roll over in the bed to get a better view of her.

“Oh hey, Wends.” You greeted, trying to get up and talk to the girl properly, but letting out a groan as you clutched the side of your stomach in pain.

You pulled the sheets down to check your side, looking for the cause of your pain. What greeted you was a huge dark blue bruise that spread from the top of your rib cage to your waist.

“Huh. That’s weird.” You mumble.

You didn’t notice Wednesday’s eyes widening at the sight, since you were a bit busy poking at the wound.

She quickly slapped your hand away, and pushed you back down into the bed. Silencing you with a press of her pointer finger on your lips.

“Don’t move.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Wednesday move so quick, even back when she was looking for the hyde all those months ago. You stared at her in awe as she rummaged through your belongings, and pulled out a first aid kit.

Nevermore had employed one in every students dorm, seeing as to there were plenty of mini medical emergencies that would occur on a daily basis.

“Thing. Go get my Magical Beings 101 textbook. It’s located on my desk.”

Thing quickly hurried off, no doubt due to the harsh tone Wednesday used.

“I’m fine, Wends. Really. I’ll be up and running in a couple days.” You said as you reached over, trying to stroke her hand.

Surprisingly, she didn’t pull away, but instead gripped it tighter. She was silent for a moment, no sound except for your heavy breathing.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? I know you used your powers YN. What I can’t seem to figure out is what for. Why are you so ill?” She asked, eyebrows furrowed.

And if you thought your heart couldn’t get any bigger, you were wrong. The way Wednesday was looking at you, all worried glances and intense eyes, you think you could pass away right then and there.

She cared.

As you tried to get up, ignoring the way Wednesday surged forward to stop you, quickly pushing you back into the bed. You didn’t put up much of a fight.

“This is gonna suck, and I wanted to save it for a more romantic setting, but I don’t think I’m leaving bed today.” You stated, while Wednesday was still eyeing you like you would get up again.

“Could you pass me the box under my desk Wends? But you have to promise to close your eyes.” You murmur, bat your eyes at her.

At that Wednesday rolled her eyes, and you were a little relieved to see a familiar Wednesday expression.

“And why is that?” She inquired.

Um.

“My brain is too meshed to come up with an excuse. It’s for our anniversary, but please don’t look, I wanna see your reaction.” You admitted, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt.

With a huff, Wednesday moved to your desk and closed her eyes, which took a while for her to actually find the box and bring it out.

“Over here.” You say, in case your voice would help her sense of direction better.

“I’m dating an imbecile who thinks I’m an imbecile.” Wednesday mutters under her breath, not aware that you had heard.

Wednesday walks over and stops in front of you, as you pat the surface on the bed next to you.

She gets the hint, and after some reluctance sits down and waits peacefully.

It’s a little domestic, and your heart starts beating faster.

You take the box from her hands and try your best to cover the clear part, then look over to Wednesday.

“Okay, you can open them now.” You say.

Wednesday’s eyes are flicked open in an instant, her peaceful face turning back into her usual resting glare.

She squints at the box, and tilts her head. You push it forward on the bed a little, gesturing for her to open the lid.

She does, and when she peers inside, her eyes widen. She dips her hand in the box and whispers, “Nero, flip.”

When the scorpion walks up to her and does a little turn of it’s body, you guess it could be called a flip, Wednesday gasps.

“It is you.” She says, sounding star struck.

And then as if just remembering you were there, she looks at you, with more emotion than you’ve ever seen before.

You feel your knees get a little week, even though you haven’t even been standing. Wednesday looks in awe.

“Happy Anniversary Wends. I didn’t know where I could find Nero so I called up your dad, I hope that’s oka-“

You’re cut off by Wednesday engulfing you in a fierce hug, and she would never admit it, but you swear you felt something damp on your shoulder.

You let the moment be, don’t tease her about it. Caressing her back a little as she leans just slightly into you.

“You’re an idiot.” She whispers, and you shiver at the sensation of her lips on your bare skin.

“Yeah I know, but you love me.” You say with a cheeky grin.

Wednesday doesn’t say anything back,but you don’t mind. Words had never been her way of expressing love, and having her here, teary eyed and smiling; albeit a tiny smile, was confirmation enough she felt the same.

You didn’t end up getting to do the things on your list for your anniversary, but in a way, what you ended up with was much better.

The rest of the day was spent with Wednesday in your arms, and a tiny scorpion in hers.

It was getting sort of uncomfortable, the position you were in, but you didn’t dare move away.

When Enid had walked in, looking for her disappearing roommate, and spotted you two asleep in each other’s arms. She bit back a squeal and snapped a quick photo on her phone.

You later asked for the photo and set it as your lockscreen.

It was a real pain bringing Nero back, but considering everything, you would definitely do it again.

#wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #mine

[mother-above]

The Golden Warrior | Chapter 9

Azriel x Reader

Summary: To you, love was a poison that slowly killed. It was something that could make the strongest of warriors and leaders weak and vulnerable. You had successfully evaded romance and relationships for a century until the day you realized it had been plaguing you from within.

Chapters: 9/?

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: violence, death, swearing, trauma

*masterlist*

Chaos was the perfect word to describe what had just happened. There was metal, blood, death, and screaming in every direction. The only reason Prythian was still standing was because Amren unbound herself from her fae body and bombarded fire and brimstone onto the Hybern soldiers. It took the Prythians several seconds to realize that the battle was finally over.

Azriel breathed heavily as he looked around, seeing Illyrians and allies from the other Courts. He was waiting for relief to wash over him, but it never came, his gut knew something was profoundly wrong. He looked around and tried to locate his family, his shadows tasked to find you as well.

Hearing a female scream, he immediately slipped into a shadow and arrived at the horrifying scene of Rhysand lying lifeless and Feyre sobbing over his body. He was on his knees barely functioning as Feyre begged the High Lords to revive his brother and when they did, that feeling in his chest never went away. Amren was pulled out from the Cauldron and yet, the foreboding sense was still there. At that moment, a shadowy wisp hurtled toward him and screamed your name over and over again.

Azriel shot up, everyone looking at him as his shadows scattered to find you. “Y/n- “choked out the shadowsinger.

Then in the distance, they heard a deep voice bellowing, begging to be heard. “THESAN! THESAN! HELP!”

Thesan’s eyes widened as his eyes focused on the limp body next to Callon. A split second later, Thesan, Azriel, the Inner Court, and some of the High Lords followed. Once they arrived, everyone gasped as they saw you sprawled on your stomach, eyes closed. Your left wing was completely drenched in blood, the muscle, tendons, and cartilage connected to your back were shredded, the wing half attached. The bones on your right leg were shattered, your tibia sticking out from under your skin.

“She’s still alive,” said Callon. Your pulse was so weak he needed to press his fingers on your neck.

Azriel couldn’t breathe. He was on autopilot and only realized he had made his way to you when his hand wrapped around your wrist as if he needed to feel your pulse too. He breathed out in relief as he felt life under your skin.

Injured Peregryns and Illyrians watched warily, their heads bowed at the sight of your bloodied wings. The Illyrians who gained respect for you saw how you fought and prayed to the Mother and Cauldron that you would make it out alive.

Thesan’s mind whirred, the sight of your body on the ground sending him into overdrive. His hands glowed as they hovered over your body, “Broken bones, wing damage, and a stab wound,” said Thesan. “There’s faebane in her system, I can feel it.”

The other fae looked at your mangled body in horror, if you weren’t part of Thesan’s bloodline, you’d have died the moment you hit the ground. Thesan needed you to sit up so he could have access to both your abdomen and back. With help from Callon, Azriel gently propped you up against him and awaited instructions.

Nicking his finger with a blade, Thesan placed droplets of his blood in your mouth. “This should help the faebane get out of her system faster. I’m going to need some clean water to flush as much as I can.”

Tarquin immediately went to your side and drew water from the clouds, as Thesan magically pulled back your damaged armor. As the cool water cleansed your wounds, it stirred you into consciousness. Azriel felt your body tense up in his arms as you groaned in pain. Your stab wound needed immediate attention, so Thesan worked on your stomach. The pain became unbearable as you slowly gained consciousness. You could feel every broken bone and your back felt like it was on fire.

Your eyes opened and everything seemed blurry, your non-broken hand gripping someone’s bicep as the searing burn on your back grew stronger. You didn’t know what was happening, the only thing you knew was you were in the worst pain in your life, but someone was there to help you.

Your eyes squeezed shut. “Stop,” you said through clenched teeth. “Make it stop.”

Azriel wanted to cry, his arms clutching you tightly. Why wasn’t Thesan moving fast enough? “You’re going to be okay,” he whispered. “Thesan is healing you, you’re okay.”

The sound of his voice did little to calm or reassure you, you were in too much agony. You were already crying, your face buried in Azriel's chest trying not to squirm away from the magical tugs of Thesan’s healing. Thesan spoke in a low calming voice as he explained every step to you, and when he was done with your stab wound, he warned you that he would set all your broken bones at the same time. You clutched Azriel’s arm tighter and braced yourself, a golden pulse came out from Thesan’s palms as a scream escaped your lips as every broken bone in your body snapped back into place.

 Azriel felt your body seize in agony and he didn’t think he could take seeing you in so much pain. He looked down at the grotesque injury on your back and left wing, now that Tarquin had washed away dirt and old blood, he could clearly see the shredded muscles and tendons made by claws. He and Thesan made eye contact, their faces paling at the sight. Wasting no more time, Thesan began reattaching the strands of muscle as your body spasmed, your screams turning hoarse.

“Stop!” begged Azriel. “She can’t take it, it’s too much.”

“If I stop, she’s going to die. Her body isn’t healing fast enough because she still has some faebane in her system,” said Thesan gravely.

Thesan was right but Azriel couldn’t stand the thought of you suffering any longer. He looked at Rhysand, his hazel gaze piercing into violet eyes.

Please.

Wordlessly, Rhysand dipped his head and mentally reached out, his talons feeling no resistance from your usually heavily guarded mind. The High Lord of Night shuddered as he heard your internal screams of anguish, as swiftly as he could, he took control and brought you peace. Azriel thanked Rhysand as he felt your body slump, your breaths heavy as your body recovered. Thesan continued his healing and did all he could, but he needed to get you off this battlefield.

Careful not to touch your wounds, Azriel cautiously brought you to your unstable feet and let you lean most of your weight on him. He wished he could carry you but there was no way he could without hurting your wings. Thesan placed his hands on you and Azriel’s arms and with a crack, Thesan winnowed to Dawn’s healing tent.

The sight of your bloodied body made the healers gasp and rush as they prepared a private cot for you. With Thesan’s help, Azriel gingerly moved your body to lie on your stomach. A healer slipped a strong painkilling tablet under your tongue, something new that Dawn Court had been developing. Azriel stood in the corner as he watched Thesan and other healers start working on your wings. He wanted to vomit, the left side was half-detached and the flesh connecting your wing was mutilated. He wished the Attor that did this to you was still alive so he could kill it slowly and as painfully as possible.

The shadowsinger wanted to hold your hand but he would just get in the way. He should have been there to defend you, but he knew that would’ve done more harm than good, he would’ve been distracted. That’s why he let a shadow latch onto you, it would only report back if anything had happened. Azriel rigidly stood in the corner observing every single step, it wasn’t until an elderly healer tugged on his arm and urged him to sit on a nearby cot did he realized that he too was in pain. His wings felt like they were on fire and the healer knew it too because the first thing she did was bandage his wings so he wouldn’t be able to fly.

By the time Azriel was covered in poultices and patched up, the other healers left to attend to the other Peregryns and foot soldiers, leaving Thesan to do the final touches. Thesan was the most powerful healer in the universe but even injuries like this were going to take time to heal. The attention to detail was painstaking, every muscle, tendon, vein, and nerve had to be healed properly, or else you may never fly again.

Thesan had to be perfect, you didn’t deserve to lose your ability to fly, you had done so much for him to protect his court and he would never forget that. Thankfully, you were still asleep, the pain medication doing its job. Wisps floated around you, watching Thesan curiously, some of them boldly intertwining with your fingers as if they were comforting you.

The High Lord looked at Azriel and the shadows. “I suppose you’re the person to thank for saving my cousin from Hybern’s first blast. I don’t know how you knew, but if you didn’t call her, she’d be dead.”

Azriel watched the rise and fall of your back, the moment he heard Nesta screaming for Cassian, he knew something was wrong and called for you too. His throat constricted as he remembered how loud and desperate, he sounded.

 “You’re her mate,” stated Thesan. Azriel blinked at the High Lord and then nodded. “Does she know it’s you?”

He shook his head. “No, she doesn’t. She uh-- thinks it’s someone else…. I think she thinks it’s Tarquin,” said Azriel as he propped his elbows on his knees. “She didn’t want to tell me but now that I think about it, they seem close.” Azriel thought back to how Tarquin acted on the battlefield, his extra care as he washed all the blood and dirt away. The way the flow of the water knew your body. Azriel scrubbed his face and sighed heavily as he returned his gaze to your prone form.

Thesan slowly nodded as his thoughts flashed to the turquoise-eyed High Lord. Judging by the sight of the distressed spymaster, he wasn’t going to confirm Azriel’s assumptions.

“Did you know she doesn’t want a mate?” continued Azriel.

Thesan’s hands froze over your back, his head whipping to Azriel. “What?”

“She told me she never wanted a mate; she claimed it would make her weak,” said Azriel with a defeated laugh. He thought about the kiss and how you used him to distract yourself. “She really doesn’t want the bond to snap.”

Thesan pressed his palms against his eyes, his mind whirring at the thought of his stubborn cousin. He should’ve guessed you thought this way. “She’s going to need her family and friends more than ever. I am doing everything possible to heal her, but I don’t know how this will affect her flying. With her powers evolving and now her wings, she’s going to need us. If you can find it within you, please be patient with her.”

A corner of Azriel’s lips lifted, “I’ve hoped all my life for a mate, I could never let her go.”

Thesan hummed his approval. “You saw what she did today, she’s more powerful than I thought. The other courts will be wary of her, the humans, and faeries from Cretea and the Continent will see her as a threat. Word will spread about what she can do, and she’ll be in danger,” once again, Thesan paused his work to look at the shadowsinger. “Can I count on you to protect her?”

Without missing a beat, Azriel responded, “With my life.”

Of the times he had met Azriel in the past few centuries, this was the most Thesan had heard him talk. His voice was so soft and sincere, something he didn’t think he’d ever hear from Prythian’s best spymaster. Looking back down at you, Thesan sighed, he hoped you would be ready for the world when you woke up.

***

Rhysand called for Azriel, but he couldn’t stand to be away from you, so he left half his shadows and instructed them to stay with you no matter what. Once you were stable, Thesan winnowed you to your tent, your bed would be much more comfortable than a cot. After that, Thesan had to leave and deal with the aftermath of the war, to mourn and collect the dead so they could be properly buried. You also missed the meeting at the debilitated Archeron estate. Out of habit, Azriel kept looking over at Thesan thinking you were going to be standing next to him. The meeting had just ended and when his shadows informed him you were stirring awake, he winnowed in a heartbeat.

You groaned as you tried to push yourself up, but scarred hands placed themselves on your shoulders.

“Don’t sit up until Thesan says you can,” said Azriel as he gently pushed you back onto the mattress. Azriel crouched and placed himself in your field of vision.

With your eyebrows slightly furrowed, you scanned Azriel’s bandaged wings and your tent around you.

“The battle—we won?” you said trying to recollect your memories. “Something hot and fiery flew above me…. I remember falling. Why was I falling?”

It took you a moment and then you gasped, your neck careening to look at your back. Your muscles screamed as pain shot down your spine forcing your head to slam onto the cot. Azriel winced as a strangled cry came out of your lips.

You remembered the pain of the claws digging into your back. “How bad is it?” Your eyes were big and frantic, your mouth still open, unable to ask the most important question. Are my wings, okay?

Azriel’s gaze swept down to your exposed back, the skin raw and angry, the feathers still stained red. “Thesan worked on you for hours… he said we won’t know until you’re completely healed.”

Your lip trembled as your own healing powers surged within you, trying to understand the damage your body had taken. You sensed the extensive work that was done on your left wing, and tears cascaded down your cheeks.

Azriel explained how the battle ended, how Rhysand died to fix the Cauldron, and how the High Lords used their powers to resurrect him. He explained that Amren had sacrificed herself to save Prythian and how she was also revived by the Cauldron. You were stunned as Azriel updated you, forgetting about your own injuries until Azriel talked about how your body was discovered.

“When Callon found you, we thought you were dead, there was so much blood …” Azriel paused, reigning in his shadows that hovered over you. “You would’ve bled out if… you weren’t you.”

It hurt to nod. You lifted a golden glowing hand to check on your wings, to see if you could do anything to heal it. “I don’t know--I can’t tell if I’ll ever be able to fly again,” you choked out. “I’d rather die.”

Azriel cupped your cheek, his thumb wiping the tears away. “We can worry about your flying later, just rest and heal for now.”

His hands were warm and heavy, you relished it as his thumb stroked your cheekbone. His contact was strangely reassuring, something you instantly missed when he pulled his hand back when Thesan and Callon entered the tent.

Your reunion with your family was only tearful for a brief time because you began to bicker with Thesan about your healing. You finally convinced Thesan you were okay to sit up and with significant effort and clenched teeth, you were able to sit up, the muscles aching. With your armor gone, you were only wearing leggings and a special brassier for females with wings. Azriel averted his gaze, but you didn’t care, you’ve worn more revealing dresses.

Thesan and Callon left to do court duties, you didn’t even bother trying to help them, you were in no shape to walk, let alone bark orders. An attendant stopped by to drop off a tray of food, enough for two people by the looks of it. Azriel took the tray from the attendant and as he set up an impromptu table, you peered through the tent drapes. It was already dawn, it had been a day since you had eaten anything, your growling stomach making Azriel smile.

Reaching out to pick up a cup of water, your muscles spasmed, making your arm feel heavy and numb. You tried reaching for a spoon, but the same thing happened, your still healing back muscles making you incapable of doing simple tasks.

“Here,” said Azriel. “Let me help you.”

He picked up a cup and let you drink, the cool water quelling your thirst. He took the fork and speared some fruit and pancake before holding it up to your lips. You chewed and stared at the shadowsinger who was diligently cutting your breakfast into small pieces. This entire scene felt strange and weirdly domestic, apart from your parents, no one had ever fed you anything and that was over a hundred years ago. This felt intimate and your chest burned at the sight of the handsome Illyrian warrior sitting in front of you. You almost swore something was tugging in your chest but after a deep breath, the feeling was gone.

“Azriel?”

He looked at you with his eyebrows raised.

“Why are you here with me and not your family? Not that I’m not grateful—but you don’t have to help me.”

Azriel paused, thinking of all the things he wanted to say to you.

Because I’m your mate! Because I care! Because I want you to know me and choose me!

He cleared his throat and shrugged. “You’re my friend, you’re hurting, and I want to help you.”

He said it so simply, so nonchalantly and it stunned you that someone could be this kind.

He watched you stare at him in awe, he thought you looked beautiful like this, your subtle glow illuminating the dim tent. He basked in your presence and attention, he hadn’t slept yet, but this restored him. Azriel was ready for anything life would throw at him.

***

You had trained with weapons and magic for decades. You had spent hundreds of hours reading about politics and observing the art of diplomacy for years. All of this was done to prepare you for your role in Dawn Court, but nothing could have prepared you for the aftermath of war. Thesan and Callon watched you like a hawk, your strange behavior wasn’t lost on either of them. Even the Palace staff were keeping an eye on you.

A month had passed, and everything felt different and dull. You had watched your soldiers and friends die.

2,398.

That’s how many Peregryns died, the dead foot soldiers were a number you didn’t want to think about. You made sure each family had sizable monetary compensation, but no amount of money could ever bring their loved one back. There was nothing you could do but at least make it financially easier for them.

You went to visit Wyla’s family to deliver the money yourself and to talk to them about Wyla. Callon begged you not to go since it was his job, but you felt like you owed it to her, she was your friend and one of the best warriors. He was afraid they’d hate you, but in reality, it was the exact opposite. Her family practically worshipped you; they told you how honored Wyla was to be able to work alongside Dawn Court’s royalty. While devastated their daughter died, they were proud of her contribution to the safety of Prythian. Their loyalty to you and Thesan was unwavering.

The moment you stepped out of their house, you winnowed to your secret spot in the mountains where no one would find you. You wished you listened to Callon, you sobbed until you couldn't breathe, and tears ran out. It would have been easier if her family hated and blamed you for their daughter's death because that’s how you felt. If you had been faster, stronger, and more powerful, Wyla and so many others would be alive.

You didn’t even realize, but you had emitted that poison bronze fog again, it hung over you in the air slowly dissipating in the wind. Tentatively, you waved your hand through the fog, there was a chance it would’ve poisoned you, but you shrugged it off. The poison was your essence, you were its master.

While sitting at your desk doing paperwork, you would swear you heard the clang of a sword hitting a shield. Sometimes you could still smell the sharp coppery scent of blood, but it was never there, only in your head. Thesan and Callon seemed to have moved on faster than you did, they weren’t moping around like you were. You couldn’t understand how they acted like nothing had changed.

Your bones were back to their original strength, you were now able to run and train just like you used to. The fear of being ambushed or being thrown into a war was always with you. You slept with a dagger under your pillow and hid weapons in various spots in your room and office. It was a shock to find out that the Palace had no hidden weapons so you installed them and insisted that you, the trusted guards, and Thesan should know where they were located.

Your wings and back had finally healed but the damage was done, neither you nor Thesan could get rid of the scars. Some feathers on the left wing grew back sparse and jagged but that wasn’t too big of a deal, you’d have to adjust how you flew. The thing is… you have yet to fly. In secret, you had tried to launch off your balcony, you were able to take off ten feet into the air until shooting pain shot out from the middle of your back and you crashed and landed on your hands. You fractured your right wrist which you hastily healed before anyone could walk in to ask what the noise was about.

After that incident, you magically hid your wings and refused to let them unfurl. You couldn’t fathom the idea of never being able to fly so you chose to avoid the subject. Callon asked you why your wings were hidden the next day, and you got irritable and snapped at him. You left the poor male trembling and at a loss for words.

If you weren’t doing your duties, you were in your room, you didn’t even venture out to the courtyards. The owner of your favorite tavern even visited the Palace to come and check on you. Things that used to bring you joy no longer did anything to your mood. You didn’t have much of an appetite, you only ate what was enough to maintain your muscle mass, and things like cookies and pastries didn’t appeal to you anymore. Which meant your body had become sinewy and haggard, with dark circles under your eyes because you couldn’t sleep. Everything tasted bland and fae wine did nothing for you.

Thesan didn’t think he’d seen you genuinely smile since before the last battle, you were always staring off into the distance thinking about something. Thesan asked you but you always changed the subject, or you simply refused to answer him. You were secretive about your thoughts because you were angry.

The only reason the Attor had gotten to you was because you were distracted by Azriel. You and his High Lord gave him strict orders not to fly and fight and what was he doing? Doing both fucking things you had asked him not to do. The past few weeks, you’ve had a lot of time to think about your relationship with Azriel. Why did you care so much? How could he be so foolish? His injured wings were what slowed him down, allowing him to get surrounded by Hybern soldiers.

Viviane, Feyre, Azriel, and to your dismay, Tarquin had been sending you letters asking how you were doing. Your responses were always short and cordial, and after two months had passed, they asked if they could visit you, but you always declined. Thesan assigned you more tasks hoping it would get you out of your funk, but it only ended in you making multiple mistakes. Your cousin had enough, he was watching you turn into a shell of a fae, and he couldn’t let you slip further away.

One morning, he entered your room and found you on your balcony wistfully looking up at the clouds.

“Why don’t you go flying anymore?”

Your head slightly turned to him, the scarred side making an appearance before disappearing.

Thesan sighed heavily as leaned against the marble balcony rail. “I want you to get away from Dawn Court and have a break.”

Your head snapped at him. “What? I can’t leave, you need me! There’s so much work to do!”

He shook his head. “You walk around the Palace like a ghost. You barely eat or talk to us, and honestly, you’ve been a shit second. I have to fix every mistake you make. I think you need to get away for a little bit, I shouldn’t have put you to work right away.”

You glared at Thesan as silver tears shimmered in your eyes, his words felt like a slap to the face. Despite the nightmares, and your inability to fly, you were doing your duty and now he tells you you’ve been doing a horrible job? You knew something wasn’t right with you, but you didn’t think it was that big of a problem.

Before you could protest, Thesan spoke with such authority there was no way you could disobey him. “I’ve written to Rhysand, and he’d be happy to have you visit Velaris for a while. Rhysand and Feyre are coming after lunch to pick you up.”

Panic ran through you as you thought of the hazel-eyed Illyrian. “You could’ve written to Kallias and Viviane!”

“They’re too busy to deal with your dramatics. You’re going to Night Court today to rest and heal properly. That’s an order,” said Thesan with finality.

“What the fuck, Thesan. You could’ve talked to me about my work.”

Thesan pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ve been trying to talk to you for weeks, Y/n.”

Your brows furrowed, the last several weeks have been a monotonous blur. You didn’t have the energy to fight with Thesan, so you simply nodded before heading to your closet to pack. Thesan looked at your retreating figure and thanked the Mother you complied with his request.

Yes, he wrote to Rhysand, but you didn’t know he and Rhysand had a confidential meeting late at night when you were sleeping. Rhysand didn’t need to see you to know something was wrong, your aura was the first thing he felt, your magic radiating from across the Palace. It was stronger than ever, and it was sharp and bitter which made Rhysand give Thesan a concerned look.

***

The small duffel bag by your feet was filled with a variety of clothes, you had no idea how long you were going to stay in Velaris, so you packed the essentials and some extras. There were a couple of daggers hidden in there as well and if they took those from you, you always had a stash in a pocket realm, that’s where you kept Deception most days.

You were standing with your arms crossed in the foyer with Thesan and Callon, you were still outraged at Thesan for kicking you out, but you think you understood why. The clock in the other room struck 3 o’clock and then Feyre and Rhysand appeared out of thin air. You straighten up and give the High Lord and Lady a quick smile that doesn’t reach your eyes.

Feyre floated to you and wrapped her arms around your figure, her eyes wide as she looked at Thesan and Callon in alarm.

It’s only been two months since we last saw her, she looks so different! Said Feyre as she telepathically spoke to the three males in the room.

Thesan nodded grimly as Callon looked down at his shoes, he wished he could’ve helped more.

Putting her hands on your shoulders, Feyre smiled at you. “It’s nice to see you again my friend, I’m excited to show you around Velaris.”

Rhysand stepped forward to kiss your hand before picking up your duffel bag. “You’ll love it there; everyone is excited to see you.”

You forced a smile and nodded. “Thank you,” you murmured. You could see the couple not so discreetly looking at the empty space where your wings should be.

Saying his goodbyes, Thesan pulled you into a hug and whispered. “You can come home anytime but I want you to come back when you’re truly happy.”

Your forehead creased. What the hell does that mean?

Preparing to winnow, Feyre took your hand as the High Lord and High Lady nodded to your cousin and Callon.

With a crack, you were suddenly greeted with a cold burst of air. They had winnowed you to the base of a mountain and if you craned your head, you could see a manor that was built into the mountain rock. Looking around, your gaze landed on the glowing nearby city, it was beautiful and for the first time in a long time, something took your breath away.

Rhysand was holding out a coat for you and you gladly took it, it was much colder here in winter than it was in Dawn. By its scent, the jacket belonged to Feyre so you thanked both of them.

Your eyes fleet around, for some reason you were expecting Azriel to be here to greet you. Rhys and Feyre bit back a smile when they saw you looking.

Clearing his throat, Rhysand extended his arms. “Welcome to Velaris, my friend. The house up there is called the House of Wind and that is where you’ll be staying. Normally, we would’ve set you up at the Town House since it’s in the city center but part of it is getting renovated. This house is guarded against winnowing, so you’ll have to fly up there.” Rhysand grimaced as soon as he said it. He glanced at you to see if you were upset but you just nodded blankly.

“If you ever want to head down and visit the city or go wherever, lower your mental shield, and call for me or Feyre at any time of the day. We’ll send someone to come and pick you up,” said Rhysand. “There is a way to go down but it’s 10,000 steps, I would recommend you fetch one of us.”

Feyre was mortified. It was such bad timing for the townhouse to be renovated. “You really can call on us any time,” she insisted. “We’re your friends and we want you to feel at home.”

With you secure in Rhysand’s arms, he shot up to the sky and you closed your eyes, relishing the wind blowing through your hair. He landed on a balcony with a thud and told you to have a look around as he went back down to pick up Feyre and your duffel bag. Feyre could’ve flown up herself, but she wasn’t going to rub her wings and flying in your face.

Rhysand and Feyre took you on a grand tour of the house, the only people here were the handmaidens Nuala and Cerridwen who greeted you kindly and with curiosity. They’ve heard about your unique ability to detect shadows.

The High Lord and Lady showed you the dining room, kitchen, library, outdoor throne room, and the fully equipped training ring atop the house. Lastly, they bring you to the door of your room at the end of the corridor. They don’t tell you that the room opposite yours was Azriel’s, Rhysand was trying not to snicker which made Feyre whack the back of his head when you weren’t looking.

They left you to settle down and unpack and, in a few hours, Nuala would come and fetch you for dinner. Now that you were alone, you slumped into a cushioned chair and stared at the city lights through the window. There was so much to think about, you couldn’t believe Thesan sent you here. Were you that useless that Thesan sent his powerful second-in-command away?

You were admiring the view when a clink made you snap your head toward the table next to you. There sat a steaming cup of tea, the china made of fine porcelain, and the flowers printed on it were reminiscent of the flowers that grew around Dawn’s Palace. Waving a hand over it, you deemed it a normal cup of tea with no trace of poison. Taking the mysterious cup in your hands, you settled back into your chair and sipped on the delicious spices that filled you with warmth.

Nuala knocked on your door and informed you that dinner would be served in 15 minutes. Startled, you looked out the window and saw that time had passed with you barely registering it. You were too engrossed with a book about the Night Court that had materialized on your lap. You quickly changed into simple silk trousers and a thin form-fitting long-sleeve shirt. Unsure of what to do with your hair, you hastily twisted it into an updo.

You used the scent of cooking food to help you navigate the halls and when you arrived, you see Rhysand standing by the Fireplace with a glass of wine in his hand.

“Rhysand- “

“Call me Rhys,” he said with a friendly smile. You were going to be his sister one day, and he wanted you to be comfortable.

“Rhys… I wanted to thank you for allowing me into your home. I- uh, don’t really know what’s going on with me,” you looked up at Rhysand embarrassed at your admission. “I just don’t want to impose, I’m sure you’re all very busy and I’d be happy to help if you ever need anything.”

Amusement glowed in Rhysand’s eyes, he never thought he’d see the day the terrifying Golden Warrior would stumble on her words. “You are here to take some time off from work. I should be the one thanking you, you saved Cassian’s life and saved Azriel’s wings and without your magic, Prythian would have fallen.”

“He’s right, I don’t think any of us would be here without you.” said a feminine voice. Mor was standing by the doorway and made her way to embrace you. “I’m so happy you’re here!”

Mor’s arrival opened the floodgates because everyone walked in at the same time. They were shocked at how different you looked. You used to be ethereal, a soft golden glow always emitting from under your skin. The beautiful large white and gold-tipped wings were something they were used to seeing, and now it was gone.

Cassian came barreling toward you and picked you up and spun you around. Nesta, who fondly rolled her eyes at Cassian came to say hello, her general attitude and happiness were much better now than when you last saw her. She waved Elain over and properly introduced the middle Archeron sister to you. Elain gave you a small curtsy and timid smile. She saw what you did at the battle with Hybern and was both terrified and in awe.

Amren greets you and you are surprised to see Varian in tow. You should have expected to see him here since the last time you saw him, his tongue was shoved down Amren’s throat in the war tent. He hugged you, trying not to act so concerned and shocked at your appearance. Varian had liked you since the day you winnowed into Summer Court, you were a breath of fresh air, something he, Tarquin, and Cressida needed.

Dinner was still being prepared so everyone was milling around between the dining room, sitting room, and balcony. Feyre had hooked her arm around yours and was chatting about anything and everything as you walked from person to person. A familiar handsome red-headed male entered the room.

“This is Lucien Vanserra,” said Feyre. “He helped us get help from the Continent; he was also Nuan’s informant for the faebane compound.”

Lucien bows, takes your hand, and kisses the top. “Nice to meet you, my lady.”

You gave him a pleasant smile as you dipped your head, if Nuan liked him, you knew you would too. He tells you how Nuan helped him tinker something for his eye and you find yourself feeling immensely proud of your mutual friend. Lucien gets called over by Mor and when he leaves, you feel Feyre throw up a sound glamour.

“Lucien and Elain are mates, but Elain wants nothing to do with him. I felt like you needed to know because it will get awkward and uncomfortable. It’s best I warned you because you’ll be staying here,” said Feyre in one breath.

You quickly try to get rid of the shocked look on your face. “Understood.”

The glamour goes down and you discreetly peered at Elain, you guessed you weren’t the only one who didn’t want a mate. You remembered Elain staring up at Azriel with her doe-eyes. Did she want Azriel instead of Lucien? The very thought made you frown. Looking around, you realize that the shadowsinger was nowhere to be found. Your eyes darted around the room for any sign of his shadows but there was nothing.

A faint boom in the atmosphere made your eyes snap into the night sky.

What the hell was that?

Cassian and Rhysand looked at each other and grinned, that was the sound of an Illyrian flying fast. A shadowy form shoots down onto the balcony, its impact shaking the mountain, the floor beneath your feet vibrating. The shadows dispersed and there stood Azriel’s tall menacing figure, his intimidating gaze searching the crowd, and only softening when they landed on you.

a/n: this was so fun to write! What do you like and not like about the characters? I wanna hear your frustrations lmaoo.

taglist ❤️: @inloveallthetime

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel angst #azriel fanfiction #acotar fanfiction

[goldsainz]

MASTERLIST.

A/N: look, it’s been a while since i’ve written for him, and since i feel like the thirst for him has gone down i am here to try and revive it (he’s babygirl okay) this might be the wildest smut i’ve written, so please enjoy!!!!

WORD COUNT: 1,5k (not really proofread, it’s almost 2am)

warnings: possessive behaviour, choking (lovingly and sexily), unprotected sex, name calling (whore), slight hair pulling, exhibitionism (blink and you’ll miss it), creampie, cum play, slight fingering

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ONLY HIS TO VIEW

Daemon Targaryen could lack many things, but his jealousy and possessiveness were things nobody could take from him.

He didn’t believe himself at fault for his behavior, not when you were his lover, not when you stood so beautiful in your gown amidst the feast. The feast which he had truly forgotten why it was being held, why he was even there, when he saw you.

You knew he was staring, and you didn’t make it any easier for the tent growing on his pants. You placed your hand on the Lord’s arm, laughing at whatever it was he was saying, and Daemon couldn’t help but think how worthless the man was of your laughter. He should be the only one allowed to hear it, frankly, he could have gotten drunk in that sound alone, so sweet and melodic it almost made him faint.

It took him just a few seconds to intervene in the scene, grabbing your forearm and practically dragging you away from the man. You had little time to excuse yourself, yet he was a prince, no one would dare question where he was taking you or why.

“Daemon!” You squealed when you collided with a wall, but he paid no mind to your voice, right now he was looking at you with dark eyes, and even darker thoughts.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” His voice held no real interest for your response, more bothered than anything.

You looked up at him, taking in his wild look, “I did, thanks for asking.”

He chuckles darkly at your answer, grabbing you by the throat as he makes you look only at him, as if that hadn’t been what you were doing before. Yet he was making a point, and you couldn’t help but feel aroused at his behavior, loving the attention.

“You’re just a little whore for attention, aren’t you?” You are now gasping for breath, feeling the pressure of his hand on your throat, still you can’t help but moan at the name. Indeed you were, but only for him, and Daemon knew it.

His knee presses over your skirts, finding place under your cunt which was now soaking more and more as the time went by. You tried to move against it, in need for any sort of friction to relieve the tension you were feeling, but his free hand made its way towards your waist and held you tightly against the wall.

“You come to my bed in the night, and yet I see you practically all over a man at the feast, do you think that’s fair?” You shake your head in a “No” motion quickly, “I don’t think it is, Y/N.”

Daemon’s hold on you softens, allowing for you to take a full breath of air, it revives you. Your doe-eye look has him enamored, making him grab your face with both of his hand and kiss you messily. Your teeth almost clash, his lips bites your lower one, he groans into it making you moan in reply. It feels great, knowing you are the only one who will get to feel him this passionately, who will make him feel so ardently for someone.

“Do you deserve my cock? Only good ladies deserve to be fucked, and you weren’t good tonight.” The smirk on his face is infuriating, it makes you almost want to slap it off of him, but right now you were too clouded with the need to be pleasured to really care for it.

“Please, my Prince, please.” You beg, making him smirk even wider (if that was even possible).

“Please what?”

You bite back any retort you could have, and comply to his taunting, “Please fuck me.”

Your words send Daemon over the edge. He makes a grab for your hair, pulling it back to have a better view of your neck, and a better way of kissing it. His open mouthed kisses will surely leave marks all over your neck, its shade so maroon it almost seemed as though they had been painted onto your body. In truth, you were his canvas, free for him to do as he pleased.

He wasn’t careful with how he handled you, tugging down his breeches without a worry for who could see him in the hallway.

“Someone could see us…” You whispered, your eyes closed in pleasure as you felt his fingers under your dress making their way over your clothed cunt.

“Then let them, let them enjoy the show.” You bite your lip harshly at his words, the pressure of his digits on your clit making it impossible to retort any reply back.

Daemon pulls down any barrier between you, only leaving you in your dress, your breasts begging to be freed. His hardened cock teases your entrance, and you thrust forward as if to meet him halfway, but once glance from him has you stopping even if it hurts to do so.

He grabs it, placing it in your entrance, but not pushing fully in just yet. A groan left his mouth once more, the feeling of your wetness drove him mad, he knew no woman would ever compare to how sweet it was, how confident it made him know all of it was just for him and always would be.

When he finally entered you, a high-pitched moan left your lips instantly, so he had to press a hand over your mouth. Even if he had no shame in someone seeing him in the compromising position he was in, the mere thought of someone seeing you like this made him plunge deeper into you. It was no surprise he cared deeply for what was his, which is why even if he loves to tease he truly wouldn’t let anyone see or touch you like he did.

His thrusts were relentless, no doubt leaving bruises with how much energy Daemon was putting into them. You were thankful for his hand, biting it from time to time to prevent such loud sounds from leaving your mouth. It made you roll your eyes to the back of your head, going mad over the feeling of his thick cock filling you with such vigor.

The harder he got, the more you enjoyed the moment. His fingers teased over your clit, sometimes harshly pressing on it, which made you grab his arm and squeeze it with so much force, it even surprised him.

You clenched around him, making him rest his head on your shoulder, muffling his own sounds with it. You couldn’t help but try and meet his thrusts, feeling him get sloppier as he got closer to being over the edge.

He was now relentlessly swiping over your clit, your whines only spurring him further on with his pace. Daemon felt you getting closer, taking his hand away only to replace it with his mouth, kissing you so passionately it made you even dizzier.

As you both came together, a loud moan left his mouth when you harshly clamped around his cock, the sheer feel of it making him release an obscene amount of cum. It leaked out of you, even with his cock still in you, and you chuckled light from the feeling.

Daemon continued to fuck into you, trying to make the most of his release and yours, he lifted your skirts higher to watch the sight closely. He had to bite his lip from groaning, surprised no one had come to check from the weird sounds, though he supposed no one would have a great interest in seeing such a thing. He watched as his cock when in and out from you, his cum leaking from you and being fucked into you once more.

Once he took out his cock from inside you, he plunged his fingers unexpectedly into you. You gasped in surprise, not expecting such intrusion. Daemon moved his fingers around your cunt, feeling both of your releases as they dripped on them.

“Open up.” He ordered, and you didn’t hesitate in doing as he said. You opened your mouth and felt his cum-covered fingers being placed onto your tongue. You moaned as you sucked on them, gazing up at him as you did so.

“Look at you, such a good whore for your Prince.” His praise did nothing to quell the spiking pleasure that was once again building up inside you.

His forehead pressed against yours, kissing you as if it would be the last time, tasting both of yourselves on your tongue. Daemon hummed in delight, like it was the best flavour he would ever be graced with, and you smiled into the kiss at his reaction.

You felt his soft cock start to harden, no doubt seeking another round of sex. Though this time it seemed your Prince had other ideas, as he moved you towards another wall which opened to a passage, it seemed he would never stop surprising you.

taglist: @freerangesweets @aemondtargaryensrider @cleverzonkwombatsludge @kiribrima @chevelledahuman @dkathl @ccallistata @beelanie @edum123 @booksbabes @watersquirtpewpewboomm @newtsniffles @deadstarkblacksoul @flowerisevil @paprikabadger

#*ੈ✩༄ my works ! #house of the dragon #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen x reader #matt smith #hotd #daemon x reader #daemon smut #daemon x you #daemon x y/n #daemo targaryen x you #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen angst #daemon targaryen fluff #house of the dragon fanfic #daemon targaryen fanfiction #hotd fanfic

[radiance1]

there’s this one post that really inspired me but I don’t know where it was and shifting through liked posts will just give me an aneurysm so Imma just say my add on ideas stuff

Danny is a look alike of Thomas Wayne and Bruce watches as Danny phases through Jason’s grave and picks him up and helps him with all intellectual language of a doctor and so Bruce now thinking that this IS Thomas watches as he helps his son

that’s where I just can’t remember so Imma add on, Danny goes to the dc universe for a vacation from the ghost king via Clockwork and just goes around and settles down as a doctor where he helps a small alley who claim him as their protector or crime lord (who knows) and then he helps Jason with being buried alive and gets coffee with Grundy and such while Bruce and the batfam are watching him like a hawk, Jason is taken under Danny’s wing to teach him how to ghost

Not that up my alley, but I think I can work with this.

Danny, after settling down and helping out the alley he holed up with injures and sickness, has unknowingly been recognized as a small-time crime lord, well, one of them at least.

Maybe a few gangs hear about him, and try to get him to join theirs, probably by force of swallowing up his territory. Danny, the oblivious idiot he has, does not realize that him sending them running with scalpels and other medical equipment that wasn't supposed to be used as weaponry, cemented his position as a crime lord.

Maybe a few of the others around the alley that he's helped and after hearing about what happened and wanting to protect him, become recognized as other crime lord's of the alley that work under him or something.

idk.

So, then when Danny suddenly appears with Jason, who they recognize as Bruce Wayne's dead kid they just go what the hell and welcome him with open arms. Meanwhile, Bruce isn't having so great a time.

Because apparently, his father was alive all this time, and then the son he was mourning was also alive and trapped 6ft underground and he just, never knew. He left his son to suffocate under dirt for- who knows how many years.

Did he revive a day after he was put in the grave? A month? A year?

He doesn't know.

Bruce wants to step into this situation, say something, anything. But he doesn't know if he should involve himself in any sort of way.

Does he even have the right?

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #okay here you go #have fun i guess

[haunted-moon]

Long Way Home [Part VII]

[Azriel x Reader fanfic]

Synopsis: Y/n is the daughter of a healer in the city of Velaris. After a small incident, she moves to the House of the Wind to work for the High Lord, Rhysand. Everyone in the house seems to welcome her except Azriel, the second in command. Even though he is just blankly polite and does not acknowledge her much, she can't help but fall for him. Does Azriel return her feelings or remain unfeelingly aloof?

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Read Part 1 here.

Read Part 2 here.

Read Part 3 here.

Read Part 4 here.

Read Part 5 here.

Read Part 6 here.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Part VII

My mind was still fighting the wine induced muddle, trying to grasp the fact that Azriel was really here. My body though, acted on a reflex. I had repacked the basket, rolled the mat and was out of the clearing before he opened his mouth to speak. I heard nothing but the gush of blood into my head, and I quickly went inside and locked the door of the main entrance. 

I didn't know what to think. Azriel had come here. He had come to a place which was unknown to everyone but me and father. 

The mat and the basket slipped from my hands and thumped on the wooden floor. The cloak was halfway down my shoulders as I pressed myself against the door, parting the curtain of the window adjacent to it to see if he was outside. 

He was. 

There was a verandah extending from the front door with a wrap-around porch. The roof over the verandah was held upright by two carved pillars, and Azriel was sitting down and leaning back against one of them. His head was turned the other way, watching the stars still falling. 

His usual leathers were absent; in their place was a black shirt and pair of black trousers. The buttons of the shirt glinted in the light like gemstones. His hair was ruffled, silver jewellery adorned his neck and hands. He was the still the most beautiful fae I had ever laid my eyes on, and the mating bond within me flared to life for a moment and tugged painfully. 

I wanted nothing but to open the door, walk out and hold him. 

The sensible part of me held me in check. Even though he was supposed to be my mate, he had given me nothing but pain until now, and I couldn't let go of it that easily. I clamped down on the bond, let the curtain fall back and went upstairs to my bed. 

The entry of my room's balcony was set with French windows, and its curtains were always parted to let in the scenery. The sky was still lit, but fading as the event was coming to an end. This was the second time since that night when I cried myself to sleep. 

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

The next day, I found a note on the kitchen table. It was my father's handwriting, with two words on it. 

I'm sorry.

Well, that solved the mystery of how Azriel came to know about this place. It didn't matter. I was not angry. I was not sad. I was empty, tired. The spark of feeling in me had withered and I had no idea how to revive it. 

In the days that followed, Azriel made a habit of lingering. I noticed him flying in at dusk, possibly after finishing his duties. He never imposed himself on me, he was just...there. 

As I moved inside, he followed from outside. The porch around the villa had a thick, low wall for comfortable seating which he took advantage of. Every room I was in the ground floor, I could see him out the window, seated on the porch wall. He was in his usual leathers and cloak, and I could see the dim light emanating from his chest and the back of his hands. His head was always turned the other way, as if he was looking out, but I knew he watched me when I wasn't looking at him. 

I let him be. I didn't want to talk to him, let alone argue and send him away.

He perched on the balcony wall when I was in my bed, and the only room he couldn't look into was the bathroom. However, I could see him from the window, on the porch railing directly underneath it. 

As it was, he was comfortable. He had his cloak to protect himself from the cold, and I'm sure he ate during the day. 

He was waiting for me to willingly let him in. And for that, I hoped he had the patience of a saint because this wasn't going to be easy.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Tags:

@kalulakunundrum @thelov3lybookworm @hnyclover @impossibelle @sourapplex @brujitafantomatico @venuseuripedis @darling006

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Read Part 8 here.

This fanfic can also be found in Wattpad, along with other exclusive parts like playlists and pictures. Here's the link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/358573037-long-way-home

Happy reading! <3

#writing #creative writing #acomaf #acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x yn #cassian #fanfiction #wattpad stories #wattpad fanfiction #writers on tumblr #fiction writing #azriel x reader #azriel x femalereader #acotar fanfic #Elaine archeron #nesta archeron #amren #rhysand #prythian #Sarah j maas #short stories #azriel spymaster #azriel angst #text posts

[queer-ragnelle]

Excalibur (1981) | Directed by John Boorman

Arthurian Film List | Arthurian Show List | Movie review below the cut ⤦

Star rating: 10/10 Content warning: multiple rape scenes, heavy gore throughout, elements of horror, nudity, animal brutality (horses in battle are treated roughly) Overview: Writer and director John Boorman understood the assignment. It's evident this film was a passion project. Both of his children are in it (his daughter as Igraine, his son as young Mordred) and he had been working with J. R. R. Tolkien back in the 70s on an adaptation of Lord of the Rings which fell through, and much of those elements were revived and put to use here. The script, acting, score, and cinematography meet the epic demands an Arthurian film requires to succeed. Synopsis: The film opens with Uther before he meets Igraine and goes on to detail the entirety of Arthur's reign and life. Arthur's beginnings with Ector and Kay are very sweet and culminate in his pulling the sword in the stone and meeting a fun, quirky Merlin. The wizard trains Arthur up and he's eventually knighted by Urien and makes an ally of him while defending Leodegrance and Guinevere's castle. Arthur falls in love with Guinevere and intends to marry her, but first meets and battles Lancelot, wins his loyalty, and sends him to pick Guinevere up for the royal wedding. Meanwhile Morgan learns magic from Merlin and uses it to conceive Mordred with Arthur. After the royal wedding, the love affair between Lancelot and Guinevere begins. While staying away from Camelot, Lancelot meets country bumpkin Perceval, who follows Lancelot back to Camelot from his secluded woodland home, then takes up the mantle of Gareth Beaumains by working for Kay in the kitchens and champions Guinevere against Gawain until Lancelot can arrive. After the affair between he and Guinevere is found out, Lancelot runs off mad into the woods, and Arthur's prosperity declines. Perceval begins a decade-long quest in search of the Holy Grail to restore Arthur/Fisher King's health so he can reclaim his lands now ravaged by disease. Mordred has grown up in this time and been taught by Morgan to hate Arthur. Once Arthur has been cured, he goes to find Guinevere in the abbey where she had been living, and retrieves Excalibur, which she had been keeping safe for him all that time. Arthur then goes with his remaining knights to battle Mordred, where he is mortally wounded, and Perceval fulfills his final act for his king by returning the sword to the Lady of the Lake as Arthur is spirited away to Avalon. Final thoughts: This movie is so damn good. Nobody's doing it like Boorman. It's my favorite version of the grail quest. Very horror, as it should be. (Monty Python is a different tone, not a worse one!) I love everyone's acting here, the casting is so rich, I love the look and vibe of everyone, the Shakespearean line delivery. All of it. The gaudy green lighting is so 80s but it works, it sets a tone, it commits to the bit, illuminates every magical scene. And the armor is obviously incredible. I won't hear criticism. Either you get it or you don't. You can watch an entire mini-series about the armorer, Terry English, produced by Mythbuster's Adam Savage on YouTube, here. And if you want to learn more about Mordred's cool helmet specifically, watch here. Anyway please watch this, you won't be disappointed.

#arthurian legend #arthurian legends #arthuriana #excalibur #excalibur 1981 #excalibur (1981) #john boorman #king arthur #queen guinevere #sir lancelot #sir perceval #sir percival #morgan le fay #sir mordred #movie review #film review #gifset #gifs #animated gifs #animated gif #quotes #gifs i made #my post

[vivacissimx]

well anyway i don't see adwd!theon's time in winterfell as a reckoning to the tune of too late does this heedless villain see the error of his ways or any such narrative justice. personally i find it the most thematically interesting and, stay with me here, hopeful of theon's three "returns" i.e. his return to pyke, his acok return to winterfell, and finally the adwd return in question. this probably hinges on how of late i've grown more comfortable identifying winterfell as a decimated metropolis, yet a thriving necropolis—a place where the dead have been dead longer than the living have been living. without getting too much into that, i'll leave it with how siri hustvedt paraphrases lewis mumford: "people want to live close to the burial places of their ancestors, to whom they are drawn with mingled feelings of worship and dread, and that is how the city is born."

in acok, winterfell died when it was divested of starks (a symbolic death of winterfell as there are none left to inherit it) and burnt to the ground (a physical death). my point in all this is to say there is mutuality, a symbiosis that characterizes theon's third and final "return." he comes as reek, horrified to hell by ramsay and roose. theon's dehumanization has taken from him both a physical identity—his looks have changed so drastically that he is unrecognizable—and a metaphysical one—he is no longer afforded even the nominal identity of theon greyjoy. the reason i keep putting return in quotes, which i will now stop doing, is because obviously that's a myth. in reality, return occurs in the memory, and if memories contradict then returns cannot happen even there. theon cannot go back to a time prior to his torture. on pyke his family rejects him ("your blood and your heir." lord balon grunted. "we shall see."), in acok winterfell refuses any memory of him in lieu of classifying him as an invader (she gaped at him as if he were some stranger), and in adwd he remarks that winterfell is no longer "the castle he remembered from the summer of his youth." there are no homecomings.

however, a big thing that occurs in adwd is that we see both theon and winterfell being raised back to life. these two plots are connected or perhaps even the same. reek is forced to reclaim theon greyjoy in order to renew the stark claim via jeyne-as-arya. by doing this, by becoming theon, the stark return is recognized, and winterfell is revived. the proof is in the pudding: winterfell rapidly becomes a site of conflict thanks to it's value being restored. we see that jon is unwilling to renounce his vows in order to be named lord stark until the situation with ramsay and jeyne-as-arya comes to a head. elsewhere in the north, it's suddenly time to dust off those banners and rescue valiant ned's precious little girl. wyman manderly makes his way to winterfell only after sending davos on a quest to retrieve rickon stark. in each case, it requires a living stark to make winterfell any sort of prize.

back to theon. thanks to a nifty sidequest with barbrey, theon is also the one to find the entryway to the crypts, which represents a limb of sorts to the structure of winterfell. he is the one the heart tree speaks to. two bodies destroyed yet they know one another / know each other's names. what does the beating heart of winterfell say to him? "theon." what does he say back? "the old gods... know me." okay. self-recognition through the other. love it. love it so much in the face of that whole spiel tyrion once gave:

Tyrion had only the vaguest memory of Theon Greyjoy from his time with the Starks. A callow youth, always smiling, skilled with a bow; it was hard to imagine him as Lord of Winterfell. The Lord of Winterfell would always be a Stark.

He remembered their godswood; the tall sentinels armored in their grey-green needles, the great oaks, the hawthorn and ash and soldier pines, and at the center the heart tree standing like some pale giant frozen in time. He could almost smell the place, earthy and brooding, the smell of centuries, and he remembered how dark the wood had been even by day. That wood was Winterfell. It was the north. I never felt so out of place as I did when I walked there, so much an unwelcome intruder. He wondered if the Greyjoys would feel it too. The castle might well be theirs, but never that godswood.

so yes. i am contextualizing theon's final return as a rebirth, actually. worship and dread.

#asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #theon greyjoy #winterfell #winterfell crypts #acok #adwd #text

[whatwouldmickeydo]

if you think about it, are you happy with how gallavich turned out in the end? i can’t lie and say i loved everything they did to them in the latest two seasons but i just pretend things like them having like threesomes and shit was just a phase and miscommunication on their part, or ian ‘flirting’ with others— oof! i look at their lovely scenes and think ‘no, okay, look how they love each other this is the purest thing’ and push those horrendous scenes aside 😪 esp when mickey wanted to stay with the other guys for free food and ian didn’t leave bc mickey joked about doing the nasty with them, i like to see it as a *ian would never want others to touch mickey without his presence*— people want a spin off for them but dear lord never let those people touch gallavich again

S11 had a lot of flaws, but in general and overall I find that I did enjoy a lot of what we got (if we combine that with the deleted scenes that should never have been deleted in the first place 🙄).

I like how low stakes the last season was, that there was never any point where it truly felt like their relationship was in danger or something was going to break them up.

They’re so strong throughout the season, dealing with so many things that all couples, married or otherwise, go through and at the end of the day, they’re right there with each other putting in the work to be together

Personally, the threesome scene and everything surrounding that doesn’t bother me all that much. They’re young, they’re dumb, they’re full of c-care and love and desire for each other 😋

(And if they choose that time to figure out what does and doesn’t work for them and if it involves another dick or two then kudos to them for enjoying life and learning shit together)

There’s just so many signs of growth throughout these episodes, Mickey being willing to talk about shit that bothers him no matter how uncomfortable it makes him, Ian wanting to stay and deal rather than run! It’s all new territory and they’re right there in it together! I love that for them!

Ultimately, they’re dumb idiots who love each other and I think we got as good of a send off as we could have honestly asked for and I’m perfectly happy living in my fantasy world of what happens after without ever feeling the need to revisit or revive them because, let’s be honest, they would absolutely destroy everything about what makes those two good if they chose to give them a spin off

#a lot of stuff has been written about the last season and there are people with wiser words than me who’ve said it better #check out metalheadmickey and gardenerian for both their beautiful asks and fics they’ve written about this #asks #gallavich #shameless

[ruiniel]

Hello!

I hope your feeling better, I myself have been feeling like crap lately so you have my sympathies.

I saw your post on glorfindel and was wondering if you'd be happy with more tolkien requests, though I definitely love your castlevania works!

That being said, may I request a glorfindel and a human lady reader?

Thank you for sending! And yes, welcoming Tolkien requests.

I redid an older Glorfindel scene for this... wanted to 'revive' it instead of letting it sit in my drafts. Might follow up with something NSFW, not sure?

General note: also working on the older asks, it's taking forever

Lairë

Pairing: Glorfindel x human fem!reader

Count: 0.5k

Rating: T

Forlond, Lindon, late Second Age

“Laurefindil, Laurefindil!”

He turns from his musing at the sound of his name, his eyes torn from the swaying waves. The day has given way to dusk, and it’s been one of clear skies and mild winds. He breathes the salty breeze, his chest filling with the rush and flow come from the sea depths.

You’re breathless when you reach his side, taking him by the arm. “Look, look a whale! Do you see it? Look there, to the East!”

Glorfindel watches you for a moment, smiling at the sight of your sparkling eyes. He follows your pointing finger. Indeed he sees the tip of a tail splashing silver foam away in the far distance, just where the Gulf of Lune flows into the sea. “I do see it… well done,” he glances back at you. 

Your hair is loose, your dress wet, the sheer material clinging to your thighs and legs after a spree in the shallow waters kissing the shore. Glorfindel himself is unshod, his plain grey tunic reaching his knees, his trousers rolled up to his calves. 

“Well done indeed, and I win, my lord,” you tease, a finger pointing at his chest. “And you know the wager. Tonight, you dance.” His frown makes you chuckle. 

“I most certainly will not.”

You cross your arms. “That was the wager. You took it. I said that I saw them, and you asked me to prove it. I did. Or does Lord Laurefindil only keep his word when it suits?” For a long time, you’d taken to calling him by his Quenya name, knowing it gladdens him to hear it. “No, you promised. Imagine the look on their faces!”

The Elf shakes his head. “You’re being childish.”

Whatever else he may have uttered, it is lost with the way you barrel into him, and even Glorfindel loses his balance with the swiftness of your movements. The sand is warm beneath him, but it’s also in his mouth and ears. Your face hovers into view, framed by salty locks, eyes now twinkling mirthfully above him. “Rise and let me up, or you go unaccompanied to your dancing tonight.” He tries to sound demanding, but somehow, in the short years he’s known you, you’d come to see through most of his devices. 

A half-smile graces your lips, your arms propped on his shoulders. “Make me.” 

He could never stay upset with you for long, pretend or not. His hands slip along your thighs, up your hips, settling there. He closes his eyes at the warmth of your mouth, trailing along his chin, to his lips. His grip tightens on your hips.

And then he’s fast on his feet, even with you struggling and laughing in his arms.

“Put me down, you cannot! Put me down! Laurefindil! You will regret this!”

Still smiling he carries you, futile resistance and all, to the shore. Glorfindel advances into the lazy waves, painted gold and green in the sunset.  “No,” he takes your chin between his fingers. “You will.” And he drops you.

You gasp when cold water douses your sun-warmed skin, thrashing to be free of him. Anyone passing would stand perplexed at the sight of a famed Balrog slayer jestingly dunking the head of a young maiden beneath the sea while she grapples and tugs at his clothing like a writhing handmaiden of Uinen. Your laughter glitters along the shore, lost in the faraway winds.

#glorfindel x reader #glorfindel x you #ruiniel:fanfiction #middle earth x reader #glorfindel x oc #silmarillion x reader #middle earth imagine #lotr x reader

[purplekissinger]

~ Masterlist ~

here's my AO3 (this is where i post ✨serious✨ stuff)

A picture above is me offering you this questionable texts. Yandere themes (a lot), but little to no nsfw (i just don't do that). Feel free to send me a request ^^

I DO NOT support yanderes irl. It's not love, it's a disease. Please, read tws.

I use pics to illustrate my drabbles, and although I usually make sure that it's not someones art, this can happen. If see your art on the cover of one of my texts and want it taken down, please contact w me, I'll do that.

Tom Riddle

x deardiarydeardiarydeardiary

Y/N’s been acting strange lately. She may contain the urge to run away, but Tom holds her down with soggy clothes and breezeblocks.

x Five times when you were stronger than Tom Riddle and one time when he was stronger than you

“Maybe you are taking in turns to look, and keep missing each other,” said Hermione, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards.

x That day no farther did we read therein

wordcount: 300. warnings: none. Tom: will definitely corner you as soon as the lesson is over.

x amalgam

The night Tom told you about Horcruxes. Soulmates au.

x The roads we take, the collars we choose

Y/N is a werewolf in the servitude of the Dark Lord.

x I am the pretty thing that lives in the castle

Y/N became a ghost instead of Myrtle. She couldn’t care less about Tom. He wishes he could say the same.

x The girl with the snake tattoo

‘Give me your hand, Y/N,’ he will say softly.

x hypnosis

'Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.'

x The tower, the princess, the snake

Soulmates AU.

x Death and the Maiden

Y/N revives the Dark Lord. “why, I am growing quite sentimental… But look, Harry! My true family returns…”

x Hansel and Gretel

Siblings au. Platonic.

x Thirst

Y/N Malfoy is Draco's older sister, this takes place in 1998, nsfw implied but no details.

Bunny Corcoran

You’re the entire circus

Bunny Corcoran being sliiiiiiightly obsessed with you 

Henry Winter

Seven deadly seeds

Henry Winter being heavily obsessed with you 

Yandere OC

x Hungry heart

Your yandere is the ‘hide the zombie bite’ type of guy. 

x Yandere zombie x reader headcanons

#harry potter #tom riddle #harry potter x reader #tom riddle x y/n #yandere x reader #masterlist #yandere tom riddle