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mindblownie2 · 4 months

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I think there's definitely something to Dankovsky not being entirely what you'd expect from a character like him, or not what he maybe would like to appear as - that is, him not really being that cold, calculating, purely "logic"-driven archetype at all; that he is actually so emotional and impulsive. I think it's also interesting how he can actually believe in the supernatural - there's the dialogue option in marble nest letting you say you believe in God, but especially in classic I think that's canonical, he talks about the soul, invokes concepts like providence or fate in ways that don't seem entirely just as figure of speech, he can very quickly turn on a dime and believe in Clara's healing powers or Artemy's traditional medicine or the Polyhedron's magical properties once he sees what he deems sufficient evidence, and he also has that line about "knowing there are things beyond our mundane perception". and you know what, I don't even think that's so contradictory. first of all, there are nowadays and there especially have been in the past, with less secular societies, plenty of scientists who also held some kind of religious beliefs. I think it's to a certain degree reconcilable when it's applied to different spheres of life - some things are relegated to spirituality, but where there are cold hard facts, you follow these; it doesn't inherently make you a hypocrite. also in the game, the thing he takes most umbrage with is not spirituality, but superstition - the kind of unreasonable and dogmatically held beliefs that lead people to, oh I dunno, say, burning innocent women for witchcraft instead of listening to experts? which you know I think is kinda fair actually? like I keep harping on about that but fellas I'd be mad too. anyway my point is, depicting him as a reddit atheist is in my opinion definitely a mischaracterisation.

however I was actually gonna talk about the whole "defeating death" thing because it's so interesting to me, people often point out how fantastical, almost mystical it sounds, and he sometimes strikes that tone - "could death be only a whim of the will that has shaped this world" is a fascinating line to me because it essentially implies that the way to attain immortality is to tell god to fuck off, but then at the same time. he is initially skeptical about Simon's immortality, though interested in the claims of his longevity and extraordinary immunity to disease; he says he wants to study tissue samples from Simon's body, which seems to me like looking for a material, physiological mechanism that could be potentially found in or applied to other people (and eventually, out of desperation or fascination or both, he can get into the Kains' whole soul transference/preservation thing, but it doesn't strike me as what he was really looking for before the game. as my friend always says, if immortality of the soul was all he wanted, he'd become a priest instead of a medical researcher). he says in haruspex route that his lab works on medicine against aging; he also notes iirc that death will never not be a thing completely because people will still be killing each other. there is that thing with the reanimated lady, which always struck me as a little off in some ways, but mainly - at the start of the game, he hasn't succeeded in his goal yet, so whatever happened there, he either was unable to reproduce it, or it wasn't what he was looking for either - I mean, the fact that you can resuscitate a person under certain conditions is a great achievement, but doesn't remove the fact that people die, same as, as he says, "doctors defeat death on singular occasions" - you can manage to rescue a person from injury or disease, but it's only postponing the inevitable, so what if it wasn't inevitable anymore? the goal, I think, is so that people don't just die of old age. and the thing about that is - is that really so irrational? I mean especially if you think about the setting, if you think about the incredible, sheer rapid change of the time period from the industrial revolution to mid-20th century, that pathologic sits somewhere in the middle of, is that not something that would appear to people as both fantastical but also within grasp, as taking the witnessed progress to its furthest conclusion? same as people imagined - and correctly so - that the next step from inventing the airplane was inventing a flying machine that will go to the moon, would they not also imagine, seeing the progresses of medicine and the extending average lifespan, that we will exponentially live longer and longer? like we know it's not that simple, and Daniil's goal is meant to be unrealistic, but I don't think it's "unscientific" in the sense that it's based on magical thinking. people don't really shoot for immortality anymore but longevity research is very much a thing and I think that's just essentially what he was doing.

on the other hand, it's funny to me to imagine that him sometimes framing his work in those less-than scientific terms might've been partly what made him unpopular; I think there's more to it, especially regarding his conflict with the authorities I think it's more about him representing "revolutionary" ideals, but with his peers? even what Isidor mentions in his letter, that Daniil's detractors claimed his theories were not scientifically viable - the accusation not being that he's a heretic or a necromancer or playing god, but that he's being unreasonable; and well, if the "groundbreaking theory of human mortality" that he claims to have formulated is in fact "people die because they just let it happen, don't let god or laws of nature dictate what happens to you", well. I can see that.

#i'm kinda rambling idk just saw some posts that made me think of this #also i love how like. artemy and clara have more explicitly 'dual' natures but daniil's character is just made of contradictions.#which makes him so interesting to rotate in my head endlessly.#the goblin talks #pathologic #daniil dankovsky

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shallowrambles · 8 months

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It's fascinating to me how much I've changed my mind about Dean in The Trap. I'm waaaaay more sympathetic to the whole Cas-being-forgiven aspect of it, because yes, Cas apologized initially, but the root of the issue was Cas's painful withdrawal of his partnership and his withholding of critical information. Full stop. He and Dean are NOT equally culpable in this one.

It's not just about Mary and Jack, and yet Cas keeps pivoting to "Dean blaming him for Mary." Which oversimplifies the whole thing in a terrible way. Yes, they're all culpable, and yes they all saw that things were wrong with Jack, but next to Donatello, Cas is THE authority on souls and physically the strongest of TFW. To make matters worse, he all but demanded Dean to parent Jack and take care of Jack's emotions, even though Dean expressed discomfort over his memories of soulless Sam. Dean has repeatedly expressed how he wants Cas to be open and honest with him, especially now that they're co-parenting, and although Cas demanded Dean parent Jack, he then turned around and hid Big Parenting Stuff from him and went off to meet Anael.

Barring Cas's one feeble and poorly-timed, "I tried to fix it on my own because I was afraid of losing this family," he doesn't really spell out his part in the communication failures or apologize very well for withdrawing from Dean, specifically. He sorts of sulls up and say, "I already apologized and I'm not doing it again." Yet, Cas has a continued, longstanding pattern of withdrawal from the partnership. I'm floored that my Cas goggles kept me from seeing it before, and maybe I'm a little embarrassed, too. I mean, honestly, it's amazing that Dean takes him back at all. :/ Once you look past, "Oh no! Dean said mean things!" anyway.

I think by The Trap, Dean has given up trying to get Cas to change or hold him accountable for his lack of communication. Cas sort of gave Dean ultimatums over it, if you squint, and Dean rolled over. And Dean wants to get back together. He needs Cas's support and Cas need his. He looks at everything Cas is and decides that Cas's avoidance and want to protect the family is just woven into the fabric of him, and Dean decides to accept that. It's something he loves about him as much as he resents it. Cas's chivalry is a feature and a bug. Dean loves him for it. It makes his life a Hell sometimes.

Occasionally, I still see people harping on how horrible Dean was for "forgiving" Cas, like Cas doesn't need to be forgiven. And with some distance and clarity, I find that pretty baffling now, but I also remember feeling that way when I wasn't looking at their partnership equally and giving Cas too much leeway on his continued absence from the partnership. I almost...respected Cas more. That thought makes me wince. But his bad decisions I was way more likely to stamp as protective or tactically genius, at least compared to some of Dean's similar decisions. Dean's things I tended to group as "too angry/emotional/irrational." :(

I guess I've come a long way when it comes to holding Sam and Cas accountable for their actions, too. Much of the time, my issues with Dean devolved to unfortunate tone policing or not liking him to express his anger and be angry at his boundaries being breached over and over, even when he was taking his anger out on inanimate objects. I balked just because it made a loud sound that made Sam wince (oh noes, not the wincing).

///

On the other hand, I'm quite impressed that Dean and Cas were finding their way back to each other after the Death of a Child. That's about the hardest thing a marriage can go through, and they were getting back together and trying to heal even before Jack reappeared. Clearly, it's a stress-tested relationship. WAY more stress-tested than your everyday marriages; they've been through multiple apocalypses. On the whole, they often have good communication, even when they disagree, they knew where they stood (like with Donatello). It's just these huge, incredibly unusual horrible earth-shatteringly terrible things that throw them. Chuck's grooming is such a bitch.

#cas + communication issues #spn #spn 15x09 #spn the trap #spn episodes #spn season 15 #dean stuff #cas stuff #dean/cas + trial separation

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libraincarnate · 1 year

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astrology notes: 4 🤠

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quick note: i'm absolutely not an astrologer. these are just a collection of some observations, thoughts, theories, and personal experiences. above all this is just for fun.

lastly, these may or may not apply to you but you might find something to be true about your friends, family, or lover. enjoy!

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✦ chiron in aquarius/chiron aquarius with harsh aspects to uranus: you may be bad with technology. might not use electronic devices much or might not know how to really use them. if you do use electronic devices it’s a struggle to use, hard to figure out, or frequent technical issues. probably don’t care for social media much either.

✦ pisces moon/mercury: music is important to these natives. it can be therapeutic or healing. music can make them feel understood, especially since they often feel misunderstood. this is probably because while most people wouldn’t bare their soul, emotions, and honest truth to just anyone they may feel more comfortable doing so through music, so these natives can relate to the artist/musician.

with that being said, they may like emotional music and lyrics matter to them, they pay attention to the words, the meaning. but also the overall feel of the song. the sounds. may like listening to music while bathing/showering as a form of self-care/love, to cope with their emotions, as an emotional outlet, or to simply relax. music & water feels like medicine or food for the soul. could use or benefit from using singing bowls, tuning forks, harps, or other musical tools and they may be an important apart of their spirituality or way of life. it also brings them pleasure, not just healing.

could like reading fantasy, fiction, romance, mythology books which can be just as healing/comforting/pleasing for them.

^ if you are a pisces rising, you may be able to relate to some of this due to having cancer in the 5th house.

✦ speaking of pisces, pisces venus/7th house: you guys probably day dream about love a lot. you love love. you know how some kids have imaginary friends? well these natives probably have an imaginary lover but they only exist in their heads .. hopefully lol. they day dream of them, thinking of different romantic scenarios, and he/she is their dream guy/girl. could apply to pisces mercury in the 7th house too.

✦ 4th house ruler in the 8th house: you might have a curse in your family, there’s a good chance it's on your mom’s side. you may feel the effects of the curse strongly if it’s a generational curse. lots of deaths in the family. could’ve experienced eerie, paranormal, supernatural events as a child growing up. could come from a family involved in esoteric practices like witchcraft, fraternities like freemasonry, etc. you might've been initiated as well.

✦ taurus in the 12th house girlies: aphrodite eating ambrosia & drinking nectar on a cloud, laying on her side like the muse of a sculptor, passing over the sea she was born from, gazing at her reflection in the water, pulling onlookers in with her beauty & the voice of a siren.

you may be a quiet person. probably sleep good. can be over indulgent in the pleasures of life because there can be wealth and abundance. but be careful, you may think you have more than you actually do. a spiritually grounded individual. signs of having talent that’s hidden/unrecognized by themselves and/or others. or if others do see these gifts/talents in you, you don’t or you deny it.

✦ neptune-uranus aspects: not having a sleeping pattern.

✦ while having prominent capricorn/saturn/10th house placements might indicate having issues with your father, if you are sun dominant he might have a big and positive influence in your life. he can be someone you look up to and respect. you could actually have a close relationship with him, especially if your sun is more dominant than your saturn. if your a girl, you may be a daddy’s girl.

those with positive sun-saturn aspects might even be able to relate. synastry matters too. if you have 5th or 11th house synastry with your dad, you guys are probably besties and spend a lot of time together.

the house the sun is located in can show you the themes of your relationship with him and the kind of influence he’ll have on you/your life.

in the 9th house: he could be a very wise and intelligent man. someone you have learned a lot from. he may be a lawyer, a teacher, or a pastor. might be someone you look to for advice or guidance. pushes you towards higher education. going on vacations/traveling with him. introducing you to a variety of things. he might not be a strict dad, lets you be/express yourself, doesn’t try to change you or control your personality. no curfew? or you were allowed to come home later than most. in the same breath, dads who are religious or who have a job that has to do with the law/legal justice system are stereotypically strict so you might not relate to this sense of freedom.

in the 5th house: a natural leader. he is probably talented in someway. you may also inherit these musical/artistic/creative gifts. could have a playful/fun relationship. may play games, music, or sports together, watching tv/movies together, sharing your hobbies with one another. someone you look up to, an inspiration. he brings a lot of joy and happiness to your life but you're also his pride and joy. just an overall indicator of him having a positive influence in your life.

in the 4th house: he might be your favorite family member, could have made your life at home easier. you may be very grateful for him. he might be a family man, someone who works hard and takes care of their family which sets a good example for you. probably hang out with him at home a lot. could be closer to your dad’s side of the family. i feel like sun in the 4th is especially a daddy’s girl placement. he’s proud of you and tends to brag about you. if you have children he’s probably close to them.

✦ speaking of sun in the 4th house, it sounds like a good placement for a positive relationship with your mom but check your moon sign too. for example, having a sun in the 4th house but a scorpio/capricorn moon can indicate relationship issues with your mom because moon is in fall in scorpio & moon is in detriment in capricorn so both signs and the moon are weakened and uncomfortable here. moon in the 12th/8th is another example. but again, check your synastry with her too.

✦ libras & leos: may be known for being vain & attention-seeking, but they also like hyping people up, complimenting them, and making them feel good about themselves.

✦ fixed/earth signs: immune to peer pressure, gaslighting, and other forms of mind games. geminis are neither a fixed nor earth sign but i had to add them here too cause how are you gunna trick the trickster?

✦ saturn-uranus aspects: can indicate a career in technology, science, engineering, architecture, politics, or math.

✦ moon square/opposite chiron: difficulty expressing/validating your feelings. it can be hard to comfort yourself emotionally because heavy emotions make you feel uncomfortable or you don't know how to deal with them. on the flip side, you are quick to validate the feelings of others and feel bad for them. still you are empathetic, maybe too much. it can be overwhelming taking on people’s emotions and burdens for yourself. more willing/easier to comfort others instead of yourself and to heal their emotional pain, but if you show yourself that same love, maybe a little extra, you can heal yourself too.

- this post was so damn wordy omg.

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if you read this until the end i hope you enjoyed it & thank you so much for reading. ♥︎♥︎♥︎, those hearts are for you.

#astrology #astro observations #astrology observations #astrology notes #astro notes #libraincarnate

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jjkyaoi · 14 days

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ok maybe i’m sounding biased cuz blitz IS my favorite HB character but from the trailer alone i’m SOOO glad we’re delving more into his actions. like, i’ve been waiting for them to focus more on blitz/how he feels and not JUST about the whole stolitz situation. i want to know more about his life !! because we’ve spent so many episodes delving into stolas’ story while blitz’s backstory has been. largely hinted at. beyond his episode with fizz. it seems like we’re going more into blitz’s pov ?? and ALSO. i think making verosika a more prominent character in this season is a real good choice, not only cuz i like her (i’m gay) but also because. blitz does need to hear from the people who he’s hurt. he does need to be harped on for the shitty things he’s done cuz it’s the only way he’ll start Growing As a Person: realizing that his actions and the way he’s constantly pushing people away does have consequences !! i’m just excited for his character growth because dude i’ve been waiting for a Long time. we’re gonna drag you kicking and screaming into personal growth and healing mr buckzo

#ANYWAYS I #AM SOOO EXCITED #THERE ARE SO MAMY COOL THINGS IN THIS TRAILER #VEROSIKA !!#STOLITZ..#BLITZ’S. MOM??#MORE BLITZ AND FIZZ REBUILDING THEIR FRIENDSHIP #THEYRE ON THE RUN?? OR GONNA BE??#i’m gonna be thinking abt this for weeks #helluva boss #helluva boss s2 #hazbin hotel #stolitz #blitzo #blitzo buckzo #verosika mayday #stolas goetia #long post

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sslowdeathh · 3 months

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Requested by @narcette, please forgive me for the wait. :(

Sunny. Sunshine. Áine. Aelius. Anatole. Cyrus. Lyric. Sunshine. Claire. Esther. Laine. Aurum. Álvaro. Reed. Melody. Harmony. Chord. Calliope. Aubade. Lyra. Rumi. Ronen. Ronan. Clarion. Liron. Rony. Sonnet. Kavya. Verse. Atticus. Abaeus. Abaios. Agraios. Link. Carneius. Lathrios. Loimios. Lycian. Melus. Clerius.

Sun suns. God gods. Lyr lyric. Muse music. Poet poetry. Ly lyre. Bri bright. Sun light. Har harmony. Chord chords. Choi choirs. Cresce crescendo. Motif motifs. Pro prophet. Truth truths. Div divine. Deit deity. Holy holiest. Muse muses. Honest honesty. Ha harp. Cello cello's. Ly lyra. Char chariot. Vio viola.

The god with the golden sword. The god of the (sun, healing, poetry, etc). The deliverer of the plague. The god born. The omen in words and sounds. The leader of the muses. The sound of health. The averter of evil. The rescuer. The prophet. He of the locusts. He who's standing before the entrance. The worshipped. The messenger of truth. The deity of honesty.

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binart · 2 years

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BINA WHAT??? YOU HAVE OCS?????? TELL ME MORE I LOVE OC CONTENT (Klance will forever feed me BUT-) THEY LOOK SO CUTE WHO. ARE. THEY.

😳😳😳

.....YOU WOULD KNOW MORE OF MY BOY.......?? TRULY????

OH!!!!!!!!!!!!! OH HAPPY DAYS YES!!!!!!!! I TOO SUBSIST ALMOST ENTIRELY OFF OF KLANCE, BUT OCs HAVE PROVEN TO BE QUITE A DELIGHT ALSO!!

FOR REFERENCE, HERE IS THE PATHETIC LITTLE MAN IN QUESTION:

wait i have too much to say, i have to put this under a readmore

OK!!!!!! THANK YOU!!!! i love him so much and i don't have many opportunities to talk about him, SO YOUR ASK IS APPRECIATED!!!

his name is E'li Leam (pronounced EE-lie Leem) and he's a Miqo'te from that MMO i really like FFXIV 🤩

Miqo'te are basically cat people (WHICH I MEAN. I GUESS I'M A FURRY NOW?? OK), and he's what's called a Seeker, AKA SUN CAT!! There's moon cat people too but don't worry about it.

Seekers have names that start with their tribe letter (26 in total, each one representing one letter of the alphabet), so for example Raha of the G tribe would be called G'raha. Only close friends and family can drop the tribe letter and call them their given name! Male seekers will also have either Tia or Nuhn after their names, with most being Tias! This is because Nuhns fuck like crazy and are the only ones who are allowed to LMFAO

LISTEN DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT

anyway E'li is your typical 32 year old shonen protagonist who woke up ~7 years ago with Retrograde Amnesia and was found in a giant forest by its resident magic rats

THESE FUCKIN THINGS. they're called moogles. if you've ever played a final fantasy game, you know these guys. ANYWAY they saw this random grown ass man with a GIANT SCABBED OVER HEAD WOUND who wouldn't respond to anything they said and were like "hey let's take care of him kupo, lol"

AND FOR MONTHS THEY LOOKED AFTER HIM. ate together. snoozed in cuddle puddles together. got fucked up on Kupo Nuts together. it was wild. they found him with a big ol explorer's backpack, and alongside a White Mage Soul Crytal (RARE AND PRICELESS ARTIFACT ALLOWING ITS OWNER TO ADEPTLY WIELD CURATIVE MAGICKS!!), they found a shitty harp inside with A NAME CARVED ON THE SIDE.........

THE NAME...?!? "Eli". there was a notch in the wood that MIGHT have been an apostrophe?? they're moogles though they don't really give a shit. SO THEY JUST START CALLING HIM E'LI.

Pronounced EE-Lie.

The correct pronunciation of E'li by Seeker standards is EH-Lie.

This incorrect pronunciation of his own name would routinely cause him significant embarrassment down the line.

anyway. They're fond of their weird little man, but after a few months the moogles are like, "hey if he's really good at healing magicks and we can't teach him how to read or write, maybe let's give him to the people in the Quarrymill. They'll take care of him." and so they deposited their Weird Son into the care of the people of the Quarrymill, who essentially hired him on as the resident healer in exchange for food/shelter/education because HOLY SHIT,

THIS GUY CAN HEAL!!!

you wander near him with an injury? BOOM he's there and suddenly ALL THAT AILS YE BE NO MORE!!

whatever life he lead prior to his severe head injury clearly included healing people. he also took to reading and writing extremely quickly, so it was assumed he was some kind of scholar?? Though he wasn't particularly fond of speaking, and learned Eorzean Sign Language because VOCALIZATIONS WERE WEIRD AND BAD.

so this guy spends like half a year there. DEVOURING BOOKS. Learning of the World At Large. Starts longing to see the rest of it.. the Quarrymill residents are hesitant to let their Weird Little Man go, but accept it & tell him he must call himself E'li Tia to all who ask.

(In his mind Tia and Nuhn both sound incredibly stupid, so he decides his surname will be Leam A.K.A LEAF ---> BUT ONE LETTER CHANGED. ((he was looking at a tree when he decided this, and it would ALSO cause him no end of embarrassment down the line)))

SUDDENLY, GOD (A SENTIENT CRYSTAL IN THE CENTER OF THE PLANET) REACHES OUT TO HIM AND IS LIKE HI. LISTEN GO OUT THERE AND SAVE THE WORLD.

E'li is like o..k... and starts his journey to become an Adventurer.....

and then gets to a place called Limsa Lominsa which SCARES THE SHIT OUT OF HIM, THEN IMMEDIATELY GOES BACK TO THE GIANT FOREST PLACE AND DOESN'T LEAVE.

GOD CRYSTAL actually told a DIFFERENT set of people to go save the world like FIVE YEARS AGO, and a bunch of stuff happened but TLDR; GOD CRYSTAL'S GROUP OF CHOSEN HEROS WHO ONCE TRIED TO SAVE THE REALM BUT WERE SPIRITED AWAY...!!!

find the strange little healing cat man one day during their adventures. their leader, Meteor (!!!!!! YES MR MAIN CHARACTER GUY HIMSELF), looks at him and this is how their meeting went:

and SO BEGAN THE JOURNEY OF THESE FIVE WARRIORS OF LIGHT, WHO WOULD GO ON TO SAVE THE REALM FROM MANY DIRE THREATS...

THEN METEOR DIES, E'LI THREATENS TO KILL THE OTHERS ON SIGHT FOR LETTING THEIR LEADER DIE, BANISHES THEM FROM THE SCIONS OF THE SEVENTH DAWN (a group of characters who like.. do good stuff For The Realm and all that), AND PROCEEDS TO SPEEDRUN PTSD AS THE NOW SOLE WARRIOR OF LIGHT

buncha stuff happens... E'li goes to War, does PTSD: The Again, GETS ISEKAI'D and does Saving the World: 2 but THIS time his best friend he made just before the God Crystal Group disbanded shows up and is like "I'M GOING TO DIE FOR YOU!" and he's like "???? I'M LITERALLY INSANE CAN YOU PLEASE NOT MAKE IT WORSE"

buncha OTHER stuff happens...

and currently him and his Best Friend (he didn't actually die) are now life partners who just want to go on adventures and take naps together.

BY THE WAY, HE DOESN'T ACTUALLY HAVE RETROGRADE AMNESIA IN THE CONVENTIONAL SENSE. GOD CRYSTAL ACTUALLY JUST YOINKED A 1500 YEAR OLD SOUL FROM THE AETHERIAL SEA (THE AFTERLIFE BUT IT'S REAL, AND IS INSIDE THE PLANET), MADE A COPY OF METEOR'S BODY, MADE IT A CAT MAN, SHOVED THE SOUL IN IT, THEN SHUNTED IT BACK UNTO THE MORTAL COIL TO GO FIGHT FOR HER. HE LANDED HEAD FIRST ONTO A FUCKIN ROCK AND SHE WAS LIKE "OOF, MY B. ANYWAY I'LL BE IN TOUCH"

when he realizes this, E'li decides he is not fond of god crystal.

AND SO THAT IS THE GIST OF MY LITTLE BLORBO. my pathetic little man. my sweet cheese, my rotten soldier etc etc. HE'S KIND OF A FREAK and i absolutely adore him.

i will continue to chronicle all the little problems i give him, desperate for anyone who will look my way and be like "oh yeah, pretty cool"........... and i thank you for reading LMFAO

#FFXIV SPOILERS #LMAO #E'li Leam #OC #there is wolgraha here if you understand my ramblings #FFXIV #WOL #also his first word was obviously kupo

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shellyreef · 5 months

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youtube

The gentle rush of flowing water held me and the Celestial Therapy Harp as we played for the river, birds, and rocks in Sedona.

I came here to gather Earth frequencies as I write the meditations for the upcoming harp training. So special and rare are the light-codes of this magnificent place!

#therapy harp #shelly reef #sound healing harp #healing harp therapy #reverie harp #harp therapy #inspiration #meditations #Youtube

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thelordofgifs · 9 months

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silm phrase prompt! maedhros + shadows of madness and despair

Thank you for the prompt! Have a little tfs missing moment for my first EVER tfs reader ❤️❤️

Even in his sleep Maglor’s fingers do not loosen their hold on Maedhros’ – tight enough that he cannot move them, but somehow still careful not to bruise.

He is always so careful, thinks Maedhros, even when—

Don’t think of it now. Maglor is here. He is living.

“Thank you,” Maedhros says aloud. “For staying. Even after—”

How can he even begin to enumerate his sins?

A sound at the door. “He is well?” Fingon asks quietly, coming to stand beside Maedhros’ chair. He radiates warmth.

“They said the danger is passed for good,” Maedhros says. “Yes. Yes, he is well.”

Fingon tilts Maedhros’ head gently towards him, and examines his expression in the moonlight. “And you, my heart?”

Maedhros leans forward to hide his face in Fingon’s clothes.

“It’s over,” Fingon says, putting an arm around Maedhros’ shoulder. “You’re safe now, Russo, both of you. No harm will come to you at Barad Eithel.”

“The shadow of my madness clings to me yet,” Maedhros murmurs.

“You are not mad,” says Fingon.

Maedhros has no heart for arguing seriously, when Maglor’s complexion is yet so pale that his face almost glows in the light of the Moon. He manages a smile. “Are you the best judge of that, beloved? Some might say walking up to Angband with a bow and a harp was not the very sanest course of action anyone has ever taken.”

Fingon snorts with laughter, before glancing at Maglor and stifling it guiltily. “I’d argue that it was,” he says. “Hope is not insane, Russo. And I hoped for you.”

“Do you still?” Maedhros whispers.

“All the time,” says Fingon, his voice very low.

Maedhros smiles and tilts his face up to be kissed.

When they have broken apart Fingon says, “Will you sleep here tonight?”

Maedhros nods. “In case Káno needs anything.”

Fingon frowns. “Sleep, then, Russo. You will do no one any good staying awake all day and night.”

“I will, I will,” Maedhros says; but once Fingon is gone he finds he is content to sit by Maglor’s bed and watch the play of light and shadow on his face, and listen to the soft sound of his breathing, more soothing than any lullaby he has ever sung.

“I’m glad you’re getting better,” Maedhros whispers. “I am – so glad, Káno. It is much more than I deserve.”

Maglor stirs and opens his eyes. “Nelyo,” he murmurs, his voice thick with sleep. “I knew you’d stay.”

Maedhros squeezes his fingers. “I’m here, Káno. Go back to sleep.”

“You too,” Maglor insists. “You should sleep.”

Maedhros smiles, although his throat is stinging. “You don’t always have to,” he begins, and then pauses.

It is hard to put into words all that Maglor does for him – all that Maglor is to him.

This is what he nearly lost. No, what he nearly destroyed.

Maglor has fallen back asleep, anyway. His grip on Maedhros’ hand has loosened a little.

Maedhros takes the opportunity to crawl into the bed next to his brother, mindful not to jostle his still-healing wounds.

The memory of what he did remains; but in this peaceful chamber, with Maglor’s warm living body close against his, Maedhros finds it is not so heavy as before.

#silmarillion #my fic #bullet point fic #the fairest stars #asks #and-the-times-we-had #maedhros #maglor #fingon #russingon #this is set sometime early in the missing year between parts 20 and 21 #a well-deserved respite for all

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dreaming-of-lu · 1 year

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Hey, I’m not sure if your emergency requests are still open. If they aren’t, feel free to ignore this. I got hit by a car last week and even though I’m not super injured, it was still a bit of a scary thing. I was wondering if you could do a group chain scenario with an injured reader? Just with lots of care and fluff <33

That's so scary! I hope you got checked out, just in case! I apologize if I read the request wrong. Tried to do scenarios, but nothing wanted to come out so I hope you don't mind hcs. Hope you enjoy it and that you are doing better. 💚💚 CW: Injury

There was a lot of panic, minus Time, Sky, Warriors, and First, trying to keep everybody calm so that they could get you to a place out of the elements and keep an eye on your well-being.

Hyrule was consistently checking up on you, whether it be seeing if the wound was healing well or if you were showing symptoms of a fever he didn't catch. Hyrule would ramble about something while holding your hand in his, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. Maybe hum idly while lost in his mind for a bit.

Legend has to drag him away to get Hyrule to rest while also threatening to tie him down to his bed if he moves an INCH from his bed. Legend promises him he'll be the first to know while he takes over the shift of watching you. He's fixing the hole left behind on your tunic while taking small glances at your form, occasionally pressing his fingers to your wrist to ensure you still have a pulse.

Wind and Warriors go in together. Warriors bathe your hair after seeing how greasy it has gotten; Wind would just sit quietly on the end of the bed before both start bickering about something.

Time ended up kicking them out after seeing how their bickering wasn't going to stop anytime soon. He played his ocarina right next to you, songs he knew, songs he was learning, or the one you taught him that he came to love. He gets up from his spot and press a kiss against your cheek before leaving.

First and Sky watched over you during the night, well, more so First watching over you while Sky played on his harp before curling up right next to your bed to sleep. First listens for any sound that might come from you. His fingers twitched toward his sword whenever there was a sound, only to be proven that it was coming from Sky.

Twilight and Wild would come in later to fix up your bandages. Four would gather your weapon before leaving a silent nod to the others as he exits the tavern. If you woke up at some time, Twilight would help you sit up while Wild goes to get a bowl of stew to fill your stomach after being out for a while. The chain piles in the room, all of them speaking over each other while Hyrule checks over you one last time. You're going to be bedridden for a while but you don't mind since they were taking good care of you.

#linked universe x reader #lu x reader #emergency request #.bea's writing #lu chain x reader #linkeduniverse x reader #cw: injury

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jimmyjims · 10 months

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Day 5: By a Thread

Zelink Week 2023 ~ @zelinkcommunity

On days like this, Zelda offered her soul to the harp she had learned to play when she was a small child. The soothing melodies that were emitted by each string offered something to Zelda when nothing else would. Sure, she enjoyed the pleasure of reading, but the excruciating studies she was pressured to conduct took away the fulfillment from the words that she engraved in her mind. Every page became a bag of sand that she had to carry, a weight that came with being a descendant of the Goddess. Much to her dismay, Zelda had to accept her destiny. However, that same dreadful destiny began to take a toll on the young princess, little by little draining whatever power she did have.

Tears kissed her cheeks as Zelda strummed on the threads of steel, her mind lingering on her failing sense of duty. What was the point of reading about Hyrule’s history? Why did she have to read about the princesses of the past and their accomplishments? Why did she try praying to the Goddess when she did not even feel Her presence?

Zelda played the first song she had learned, a lullaby passed down through every generation, a song that held such a strong connection to the Hylian royal family. When she played the melody, its tender sounds reached out to her, the melody holding her in its arms. As much as she tried to keep her composure, her fingers began to slip from her as she played a glissando. The melody and bass parts after the strum of all strings became unrecognizable, dissonant. The embrace from the lullaby was lost when she stopped in the middle of the tune, leaving Zelda alone, sitting on the small bench that had sustained her for more than a decade.

Choking on her sobs, Zelda knew that she had to stop relying on the last shimmer of hope that she had preserved for many years. The silence began to suffocate her as Zelda’s mind spun, her mental exhaustion finally catching up to her. The words of her father rang through her mind as she stepped away from the harp. The kingdom of Hyrule depends on you. Your mother and I know you can do it. You just have to keep praying. You have to keep studying. You have to keep trying, Zelda.

The Princess let out a loud sob before she covered her mouth, not wanting to worry the knight that sat intently in the room next door. She was a lost cause, she began to accept. If Hylia did not want to give her a sign of Her blessing, why should Zelda keep trying? Why should she hang on to something that is not there?

~~~

In the room next door, Leon felt his heart ache as he thought about Zelda’s reaction when he returned from his mission. Despite his victory, Zelda’s lips quivered as she took him in, then stomped to her quarters, her hands wiping at her eyes. Now, as he sat in his bedroom, he fought his overbearing urge to burst through the door and console her, but he knew that he placed doubt into Zelda’s mind. Although she never told him this directly, every look she gave him did whenever he received any gratification for fulfilling his duties as the legendary hero. Her eyes held a tinge of jealousy, despite her best efforts to hide it. It pained Leon to see this, so since then, he had avoided glancing at her when receiving his thanks from the inhabitants of Castle Town.

When the sounds of the harp began, Leon faced the door while he sat on his bed, waiting for the moment he had to step in. The divine sounds of the strings carried through the crevice under the door—and he listened. He listened to her as she plucked on the instrument she treasured so dearly, her wordless voice weighing on his heart. He listened as she began to falter, the divinity of the harp becoming riddled with darkness as it consumed her. He winced as his body tensed, his wounds still healing from the mission he had carried out earlier that day.

Then, he heard it. The sound of her desolation was finally vocalized through her cries, serving as a signal for his interception. He cared about how she felt in his presence, he did, but being there for her when she was losing herself was more important. Opening the door carefully, Leon saw the Princess sprawled on her bed, her hand covering her mouth. His stomach dropped at the sight of her misery but he walked to her, watching her curl away from him as he drew nearer.

“Don’t,” she whispered in a croak. He took a seat next to her, his face contorting as he frowned. The Princess sniffed and covered her face with her arm, making sure Leon could not see her in her worst moment. Exhaling through his nose tentatively, he shoved away the thought of leaving her alone and placed his hand on her arm. He heard a small gasp as the Princess raised her head to stare at his hand, his thumb brushing her skin. She remained stunned by his touch until he finally stopped and lifted her chin to face him. Her heart began to hammer in her chest as he wiped away her tears, his heart thundering in his own.

This shared moment between her shifted the key in which she cried. She still had hints of the dissonance in her heart, but she finally realized that she was missing a string to her own harp. It was in front of her. The melody had turned dark when she began to walk away from him, welcoming the doubt to taint her thoughts. But now that she embraced him, she felt the string of her heart vibrate against his, their melodies intertwining, creating a new melody that served as a barrier from the darkness. Why did she ever hinder the thread that connected them through destiny?

They supported each other in their arms, holding on to what they both believed to be Hylia’s blessing. Leon stroked her long curls as he placed a kiss on her cheek, while Zelda cut away at the weight she had been carrying. She told him of all the doubts she had about herself, her insecurities, her inability to use her power from the Goddess. Leon listened intently, again, as she poured her soul into his, finally repairing what the darkness had broken. How ardently he wished to reassure her with his own words; he felt helpless in his only capability of using his touch to console the Princess.

Zelda placed a hand on Leon’s chest and looked into his sorrowful eyes. She gave him a weak smile and rested her head on his shoulder. She was not sure what his worries were now, but she felt the need to reassure him.

“Thank you, Leon,” she whispered, placing her lips on his chin in a grateful kiss. He smiled in return and tightened his grip on her, not wanting to forget the feeling of her. Their love was shared in their silence as they decided to spend the night together to erase the memories of their time spent apart, creating a new thread that connected them through love.

#legend of zelda #zelda au #zelda #zelink #zelink week 2023 #oc #ximmyxime

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godslove · 2 months

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

The Greek word for interpretation is hermeneia and simply means to interpret, explain, or expound some message that is not able to be understood in a natural way. Thus, this spiritual gift is the supernatural ability to understand and explain messages uttered in an unknown language.

The spiritual gift of interpretation of tongues is found alongside the gift of speaking in tongues.

¹⁰ “to another the working of miracles, to another prophecy, to another discerning of spirits, to another different kinds of tongues, to another the interpretation of tongues.”

—1 Corinthians 12:10

This is a revelatory gift, meaning that God “reveals” the meaning of the words or message being spoken and allows the interpreter to communicate its meaning to those who need to hear it. When this happens in the church two things happen: the church is edified and God is glorified.

The spiritual gift of interpretation is given by the Holy Spirit to certain individuals to reveal messages spoken in an unknown tongue to God for the building up of the church. Like the gift of prophecy, tongues that are interpreted have the effect of encouraging and blessing the church to love and serve God more deeply and effectively.

‭‭³⁰ “Do all have gifts of healings? Do all speak with tongues? Do all interpret?”

—1 Corinthians 12:30

‭‭¹ “Pursue love, and desire spiritual gifts, but especially that you may prophesy. ² For he who speaks in a tongue does not speak to men but to God, for no one understands him; however, in the spirit he speaks mysteries. ³ But he who prophesies speaks edification and exhortation and comfort to men. ⁴ He who speaks in a tongue edifies himself, but he who prophesies edifies the church. ⁵ I wish you all spoke with tongues, but even more that you prophesied; for he who prophesies is greater than he who speaks with tongues, unless indeed he interprets, that the church may receive edification.

⁶ But now, brethren, if I come to you speaking with tongues, what shall I profit you unless I speak to you either by revelation, by knowledge, by prophesying, or by teaching? ⁷ Even things without life, whether flute or harp, when they make a sound, unless they make a distinction in the sounds, how will it be known what is piped or played? ⁸ For if the trumpet makes an uncertain sound, who will prepare for battle? ⁹ So likewise you, unless you utter by the tongue words easy to understand, how will it be known what is spoken? For you will be speaking into the air. ¹⁰ There are, it may be, so many kinds of languages in the world, and none of them is without significance. ¹¹ Therefore, if I do not know the meaning of the language, I shall be a foreigner to him who speaks, and he who speaks will be a foreigner to me. ¹² Even so you, since you are zealous for spiritual gifts, let it be for the edification of the church that you seek to excel.

¹³ Therefore let him who speaks in a tongue pray that he may interpret. ¹⁴ For if I pray in a tongue, my spirit prays, but my understanding is unfruitful. ¹⁵ What is the conclusion then? I will pray with the spirit, and I will also pray with the understanding. I will sing with the spirit, and I will also sing with the understanding. ¹⁶ Otherwise, if you bless with the spirit, how will he who occupies the place of the uninformed say “Amen” at your giving of thanks, since he does not understand what you say? ¹⁷ For you indeed give thanks well, but the other is not edified.

¹⁸ I thank my God I speak with tongues more than you all; ¹⁹ yet in the church I would rather speak five words with my understanding, that I may teach others also, than ten thousand words in a tongue.

²⁰ Brethren, do not be children in understanding; however, in malice be babes, but in understanding be mature.

²¹ In the law it is written:

“With men of other tongues and other lips

I will speak to this people;

And yet, for all that, they will not hear Me,”

says the Lord.

²² Therefore tongues are for a sign, not to those who believe but to unbelievers; but prophesying is not for unbelievers but for those who believe. ²³ Therefore if the whole church comes together in one place, and all speak with tongues, and there come in those who are uninformed or unbelievers, will they not say that you are out of your mind? ²⁴ But if all prophesy, and an unbeliever or an uninformed person comes in, he is convinced by all, he is convicted by all. ²⁵ And thus the secrets of his heart are revealed; and so, falling down on his face, he will worship God and report that God is truly among you.

²⁶ How is it then, brethren? Whenever you come together, each of you has a psalm, has a teaching, has a tongue, has a revelation, has an interpretation. Let all things be done for edification. ²⁷ If anyone speaks in a tongue, let there be two or at the most three, each in turn, and let one interpret. ²⁸ But if there is no interpreter, let him keep silent in church, and let him speak to himself and to God.”

—1 Corinthians 14:1-28

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theladyofbloodshed · 1 year

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A Court of Tangled Flames - Chapter 31

Sorry it's been a bit of a wait, but I hope this chapter is worth it!

There were aches in places that Nesta did not even know she had muscles. Her throat was parched. Strangely, she had woken in a bed beside Eris. The last thing she remembered was trying to keep her eyes open in the chair next to his bed in Orla’s.

No, that wasn’t quite right.

Faintly, if she strained her mind, Nesta could remember flashes of silver then red. The barking of the smoke hounds. Shadows covering her.

Nesta stretched her hand across the gap between the beds to take hold of her husband’s. It was pleasantly warm although Eris remained deep in sleep. That was for the best. His body needed to heal from whatever creature had been set upon him in the Prison.

At the sound of her easing from the sheets, one of the dogs raised their heads. Firo dragged his belly across the floor then came to Nesta for a fuss. ‘You’re still looking after us. Good boy. Stay here with papa.’

Nesta never knew if the dogs understood her, but still she spoke to them. Often, she narrated everything she did to Safera.

Her tired legs carried her towards the kitchen.

‘-suspected it for a while.’

‘What does it mean? Sentient. Aren’t my shadows?’

At the sound of Azriel’s voice seeping from the kitchen, Nesta stilled. Why was he inside with Orla? Her brows pinched as she continued listening into their conversation.

‘Your shadows are shadows that you sing to. The clue is in the fucking name.’

‘Niamh, shh. Magic should not have its own thoughts. It should not react without an order or its master’s will.’ She heard Orla exhale then set something down on the table. ‘It means-’

‘That we are in big fucking trouble if Nesta ever loses control of it.’

‘Eris seems to have a way to soothe it,’ replied the healer to her sister.

‘And if Eris pisses her off and her magic decides it wants rid of him? You should be counting your stars that Nesta has not killed you or your precious court yet, Az.’

It was jarring to hear Niamh call him that. They weren’t friends. That was probably why she did call him that way. Nesta was ready to blow the door open and charge in there like a hurricane. She hated people talking about her. But something must have happened last night that she didn’t understand. The reason why her body was so sore and exhausted today.

She quietly stepped back down the corridor then made a show of stomping and clearing her throat to announce her arrival.

At the opening of the door, their conversation suddenly veered course.

‘Can bats fly in the daylight, Azriel?’

‘Yes. Actual bats are nocturnal. If you are referring to me-’

‘I am.’

‘-then yes.’

Niamh drummed her finger on the table. ‘Why is the Night Court not permanently in a state of night?’

‘I do not know.’

‘Good morning, Nesta. As your overbearing healer, it is my duty to feed you and check you over,’ said Orla as she wrapped an arm around her shoulder to lead her into a chair.

A refreshing flurry of magic tickled Nesta’s skin as Orla examined her then toast was thrust into her hands. She took a bite and forced it down. ‘I don’t know what happened last night.’

Niamh’s eyes went to Azriel. His, in turn, flickered to Orla, passing the duty of truth onto her. ‘Your magic erupted last night. Nobody was hurt – except the curtains which really were ghastly – so do not worry. We’re just glad you’re alright.’

‘That’s it? My magic erupted and no harm done.’ Her lips puckered. ‘That shouldn’t happen, should it?’

‘It has happened before, after you scried,’ Azriel reminded her.

That time, her magic had seized control of her body. Not even Rhys was able to subdue it until Cassian intervened, giving it a momentary pause. Nesta built a bridge over her worry rather than drowning in it then continued nibbling at her breakfast.

‘Most people have flowers as a centrepiece,’ she said between mouthfuls then jerked her chin towards the Harp that sat in the middle of the table.

‘We weren’t sure what to do with it,’ Orla admitted.

At that moment, Niamh chose to stand and declare she would go and check on Emerie in Windhaven. Azriel stood too, saying he’d ensure Gwyn was safe – but reassured Nesta that the library would always be safe. She neglected to reply that no, it wasn’t. Her and Feyre had been attacked there. Then the shadowsinger did something that surprised Nesta. He leaned towards her and pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

‘You scared me last night,’ he murmured. ‘I worry for you, even if you’re not a part of my court. You’re still a friend.’

At the sounds of the door opening and closing, Eris was roused from his bed. He still pressed his palm to the stitches of his stomach so Orla demanded he remove his shirt so she could inspect it there and then.

‘Let me at least kiss my wife first,’ he’d replied, words still slurred.

The tight set of his jaw suggested to Nesta that Eris was still in a great deal of pain. That did not stop him from wrapping his arms around her to kiss her softly. The slash across his stomach was puckered and red, making Orla frown as she examined it.

‘It is healing, but slowly. Slower than I would like.’

While Eris forced down small bites of toast, he leant back in the chair so that Orla could clean the wound properly. Again, she had opted for mortal remedies, claiming there was merit in learning them. It made Eris wince and groan then he had a telling off that he was worse than a babe.

‘The last time you were stabbed in the stomach, you didn’t make this much noise.’

‘That’s because I didn’t have a wife to fuss over me,’ he winked.

The storm cloud was coming for Eris. Not that he knew. Her darling husband kept meticulous notes on her training in his preferred shorthand that was decipherable to most. Eris would have known if her magic was sentient. He’d have figured it out long ago.

They had spent too long away from the Forest House. Their absence would be noted. They dressed quickly then Nesta winnowed them to the cottage where the Harp would be stored. It took a lot out of Eris to ward it. She could see the exhaustion etching into his features as his magic wrapped around the cottage. It was her magic that winnowed them to the massive gates of the Forest House. Eris extended his arm for her to take as they crossed the paths, but his weight rested on her, breaths came out laboured. The stifling corridors were silent though not empty. Servants knew to scurry from their paths as if they were cats and all the servants were mice. Nesta hated the atmosphere of fear that Beron cultivated. He thrived from it. Dominating his children, his wife, his followers. They would not follow Beron if they had any other choice.

Once back in their room, Cotton-tail scurried towards them. She scooped the rabbit against her chest and kissed the spot between his eyes.

Eris slumped against a couch, exhaling loudly.

‘You should have rested longer at Orla’s. You aren’t well enough to be up.’

Eris grimaced as he swallowed. ‘Time moves quicker in the Autumn Court. You can never leave the Forest House for long. There’s always somebody waiting in the shadows to claw at your place.’

Nesta refused to let the storm come. Her husband had proved his love over and over. She held back the clouds, the thunder that should have rippled through her as anger squeezed her heart. Instead, Nesta knelt on the ground to remove Eris’ shoes then pulled a blanket around him. She knew him well enough to know that he would not lay idle. He would have a stack of paperwork to plough through, plots for the Harp to undertake. First, she had to be sure.

‘My magic is sentient, isn’t it?’

His jaw clenched together. ‘How do you know?’

No denial.

She perched on the narrow strip of the couch beside Eris and pushed back a tuft of his hair. ‘I overheard them talking this morning. My magic decided to put on a show last night, it seems.’

Eris dipped his chin, anticipating her words to pelt him. When Nesta did not berate him, he continued, ‘I wasn’t sure for a long time.’

Even now, Nesta could feel it purring in her chest, knowing it was being talked about.

On the shelf, Nesta retrieved a book bound in dark green leather at Eris’ request and he untangled the code, reading his observations to her.

Moves independently of will. Like calls to like. Responds in kind to flame. Developed a bond with N. More than death. Winnowing? Never wanes. Transformative?

It was uncomfortable to listen to another’s observation of her magic, but Eris had spent the most time with it – seen her use it every day under his encouragement. It was only his observation, not an opinion of it, of her. He had never acted differently towards her as a result of his suspicions.

‘I know that I should have told you sooner, but you were not in a place to hear the news when I realised. You are no longer afraid of your magic. I didn’t know how it would react if you knew and were scared to use it.’

‘It can hear you,’ she replied. ‘It’s always listening.’

‘Hello,’ Eris said. He continued, ‘I am sorry I haven’t told you. I’m a coward for not finding the moment to do it. You have so much on your shoulders. You always have. I didn’t want to add more, but it wasn’t my place to decide if you deserved to know.’

‘It changes nothing. It is how it has always been.’

Since she was saddled with it, she thought. Her magic was a living, breathing thing, stolen from the Cauldron in her rage. As long as she used her magic regularly, ensured it was given a run out, then it would bend to her will. Her magic might have its own will, but hers was made of steel. She was formidable in her own right.

‘Rest.’

A kiss was pressed to Eris’ temple.

‘You know I won’t – not with your safety on the line.’

For hours, they lay on the couch together, nuzzling for warmth while Eris finished reading reports. He had some accounts gathered from across Prythian from ancient texts about Koschei and the trove. His attitude was that the more knowledge, the better. She couldn’t help but marvel at him. The threat of Briallyn should have been a maelstrom that Nesta could not outrun, but with Eris as her husband, she knew they would weather it. He would find a way, as he always did, to take care of her.

‘I love you.’

If Eris had not been still so unwell, then he might have taken her there on the couch. Instead, he scooped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her in close. ‘I’m so proud of you. For everything.’ The pad of his thumb stroked against her cheekbone. ‘Do you want to talk about yesterday?’

The events of the Prison still had no landed because Nesta would not let them. She could not think of the golden-haired male who had promised her universes to conquer, not of the fact that she might have said yes before Eris had intervened. If he knew how close she had been to accepting the immortal’s offer, he might look at her differently.

Instead, Nesta drew Eris a warm bath and had servants bring them a bite to eat. She pressed chunks of cheese and apple into mouth as his head rested against the edge of the bath with his eyes closed. In a quiet, unsure voice, Nesta recounted what had happened when she had passed through the wall into the empty chamber.

Eris forced his eyes open. ‘I am trying not to get too excited but it sounds like the lost Dawn Court could have once been there.’

‘Do tell me more.’

‘I would love a willing audience to my theories, my darling, but I am too exhausted to move my jaw.’

‘Another day then,’ she murmured. Nesta swept a flannel through the water then began washing his beautiful body. The lean muscles of his body did not intimidate Nesta. It was nice to know that Eris could fight with words as well as weapons too.

She dabbed at his face and Eris made a low hum of relief.

‘I worried for you down there with Cassian.’

‘Did you think he would try to finish me off?’

The thought did not bear thinking about. A potential Blood Duel had swirled around in Nesta’s mind a few times as she pondered what lengths Cassian might go to in his goal of dragging her back to the Night Court. She knew that long ago Cassian had stabbed Eris in the gut when Feyre escaped the Spring Court. He would probably like the chance again.

‘If he ever hurt you, I would hate him for the rest of my eternal life.’

Eris cocked an eye open again. ‘Why must you make such devoted declarations? My body is too ruined to enjoy my wife thoroughly today, but these statements make me want to pluck out my stitches and be damned.’

She stroked a finger down his nose. ‘We have time. We have the rest of our lives to enjoy each other.’

At that, Eris gave a sigh of content. Soft lips curved into one of his rare, unguarded smiles. ‘Would you like to be High Lady one day? To be on equal footing with your sister?’

Nesta flicked water towards him. ‘Certainly not. Being your wife is enough.’

‘Queen of queens then?’

At the sight of his smirk, Nesta contemplated drowning him.

Whilst they were languishing on the bed, wrapped up in each other’s arms enjoying a thoroughly deserved lazy day, a servant summoned them for dinner. It was a chance for Beron to dominate and intimidate. He reminded Nesta of a petulant boy from her human village who used to burn ants or cut worms with a spade simply to be cruel. Sometimes he threw stones at dogs or tried to throw water at cats. Nesta had once held out her foot when he ran past to trip him over.

They dressed in silence. Eris moved stiffly, pressing his hand against his abdomen after any vigorous movements. His breathing was shallow and forced out between pursed lips. When she enquired over his wellbeing, Eris simply waved it away. They had opted for dark green fabric, so dark that it was almost black, traced with golden leaves and vines. Her bodice was tight on her ribs, a sign that her body had softened since she had last worn it; she had Eris’ love and Orla’s puddings to thank for that.

The shadowed hallways of the Autumn Court remained cold and unwelcoming as they moved through them towards the large dining room. Eris struggled to pull on his mask of arrogant heir, so Nesta took that role. She plastered a sneer across her face and strode past each of Beron’s sons without a passing glance. For the high lord, she dipped her chin so slightly that it ought to have been disrespectful. There was a fine line between daring and disrespect which Beron often moved depending on how he felt that day. What was applauded one day, would be a cause of punishment the next.

Beneath the table, Nesta laced her fingers with her husband’s, squeezing them gently. He carried her through every storm. Tonight, she would return the favour.

It was a tedious, strained affair.

Xander cleared his throat during a lull in Beron’s constant stream of insults. ‘I knocked at your rooms a number of times yesterday, Eris. It appeared nobody was there.’

Nesta cut in before Eris had the chance. ‘I’m afraid your brother was busy with his wife.’

‘All day and night?’ Xander raised a brow. Beside him, Uther gave a sly grin.

‘I wish all females were as lucky as I am,’ Nesta replied, stroking the back of Eris’ neck. ‘You shall never hear me complain.’

‘And yet she is still not bred.’

Of course, Beron would not address Nesta directly. His cold, flat gaze pierced Eris. Her husband was in no place to deal with his evil father today, but a warm hand settled on Nesta’s leg, stopping her from doing battle with him.

‘Children are loathsome things.’

‘Secure an heir. Your brothers might think twice about killing you.’

What a strange life to exchange remarks about fraternal murders. Nesta had become a pariah for saying Feyre smelt. She’d never tried to murder her.

Eris shrugged then spared a single, pitying glance to his three brothers. ‘Why should I care? Their numerous attempts on myself and my wife have been pathetic. They lack creativity or ambition. The only brother worthy of my worry was exiled.’

‘Do not speak that coward’s name in my home.’

Eliška’s eyes went to her lap at the mention of her youngest. It was clever of Eris to change the course of the river from him to Lucien, but Nesta wished Lucien wasn’t used as a scapegoat. It clearly brought his mother pain.

‘I did not speak it,’ replied Eris, holding his father’s stare. ‘Merely explained that he was the only brother who had the ambition and skill to assassinate me.’

It would never not disturb Nesta that murder could be discussed so openly. This was the cutthroat Autumn Court though. She had to grow with it rather than be suffocated by it. If there had been any attempts on her life, Nesta had not realised. Eris was always a step ahead.

After dinner, the sons were to remain with their father. Nesta linked her arm with her mother-in-law’s then felt the familiar press of her magic, asking to be let inside of her head, as they marched down the silent halls.

I do not like tonight. My smokehounds have been unsettled.

Eliška’s grip on Nesta was tight enough to hurt as they wove through the warren of corridors towards the latter’s rooms.

None would harm me, but I daresay somebody might try to hurt you tonight. Eris was unwell today, wasn’t he? Others would have noticed it. Stay in your room. Keep it locked. If you do not hear from Eris tonight then I will try and send a message beyond these borders to help you.

Her mother-in-law gave one curt bow of the head then swept along the corridor, flanked by her own guards. Nesta wasted no time in hurrying inside and locking the door. She retrieved a knife then searched each room, just as Eris had taught her once. She kept her back against a wall while moving swiftly, opening cupboards and checking under the bed. All of the windows were locked. There were no signs of any movement in the room whilst they had been at dinner.

Eliška’s words echoed in her mind. If she did not hear from Eris that meant he was dead. Would Beron go that far? Maybe not, but he might encourage his sons to. Then Nesta would be alone here with no allies or protection.

She twisted her fingers in her lap, stomach churning so violently that Nesta ended up running to the bathroom to empty it.

Eris was not well. He was weak and exhausted. She could not sit here and hope he would make it back to her safely. It was her turn to battle the storm for him. Her turn to face monsters.

Not knowing entirely what she was doing, Nesta hurried through the Forest House.

‘Find Eris,’ she murmured to her magic.

It slithered out of her like great snakes that scorched the carpet in their hunt. One silver flame remained pulsing so brightly that she had to shield her eyes. That was the one to follow.

It led her down a set of stone stairs. A chill seeped from them as she descended deep into the bowels of the Forest House, into the damp cellars. Eris had once told her he’d had his first kiss in them, behind a barrel of Beron’s favourite wine.

At the sounds of pain, Nesta froze. Her shoe still hovered above a step so she gently pressed the ball of her foot down, careful not to make any sound. She called her magic back to her.

‘Again.’

It was Beron’s voice.

Then, the unmistakable sound of a whip cracking through the air and onto skin.

Another grunt of pain.

She recognised that voice too. Her husband’s.

Unable to control herself, unable to reason that this had happened many times and it would be safer for her to slip back to her rooms, Nesta surged down the stairs.

Beron stood watching, with his arms folded, displeasure painted on his features. Eris clung to a stone pillar. His shirt was discarded on the floor. Blood streaked his back and more was splattered on the floor. Phelan leaned against another pillar, face giving nothing away. Uther held the whip, but Xander was enjoying every moment too.

‘You will not touch him again.’

At the sound of Nesta’s voice, the males turned.

‘Remove yourself from this place.’ Beron’s voice was quiet but authoritative.

Nesta hated him. She hated him so much. From the neat, brown hair on his head to the polished, black boots. She hated the male.

‘You will not touch my husband ever again.’

Her own voice was ragged with pain. Her Eris, who was so strong, so fearless for her, was beaten and broken at his family’s hand for no reason except for humiliation. She would take it no more.

Strike him dead.

Magic ruptured out of her. It was a beast that would never be satisfied. It would kill and kill and kill, if Nesta allowed it.

Tonight, there was only one male she wanted dead.

Beron was flung against the wall. Her silver flames devoured him before he had a chance to fight back. He might have been a high lord, but she was the bitch who had stolen from the Cauldron.

They warped his features, stealing the last of his eternal life, until he crumpled into a rotting corpse. She had stolen his life. And she was glad for it.

A tense silence filled the cellar.

Then a guard’s voice rang out. ‘She killed the high lord. Seize her.’

Phelan was quickest. His knife slit the guard’s throat. Fire then erupted from his remaining hand to cremate the remaining guard. His screams made Nesta close her eyes, as if that might block them out.

‘We saw nothing,’ said Phelan, staring at Xander and Uther.

Eris turned from the pillar. The wounds on his back sealed themselves. A faint, shimmer of gold bled over his skin instead as high lord’s magic seeped into his veins.

Phelan dropped to one knee then bent his head. ‘I swear myself to you, High Lord.’

Eris raked a knife over Phelan’s palm, accepting his blood as his vow. Then his amber eyes turned to his remaining brothers. ‘And you? Do you stand with me or against me?’

Both males followed Phelan’s example, bending to the ground and holding out their hand for Eris to accept their vow.

‘Eris Vanserra. High Lord of the Autumn Court.’

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#a court of tangled flames #acotf #neris

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