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selene-kaito · 2 years

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My Life, My Rules: CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER ONE -- CHAPTER TWO-- CHAPTER THREE-- CHAPTER FOUR-- CHAPTER FIVE

FEBUWHUMP 2022: DAY 23- DON'T LEAVE ME

TW: SA, NFSW

“Don’t leave me Eris. Please don’t leave me.” Aelia’s voice was always in his nightmares.

They started out wonderfully, both of them as children running across Forest House. Happy and content. Then she would be charmed into falling off a cliff and would beg him to never leave her.

“Don’t leave me Eris. Please don’t leave me.”

“Never Aelia.” He would promise. But then there were his father’s guards, always a step behind him. They were grabbing and dragging him back and Aelia stayed there screaming.

“Don’t leave me Eris. Please don’t leave me.”

🔥🔥🔥

The next day Eris and a few of his loyal soldiers escorted Gwyn to the mountains. Emerie accompanied them at Gwyn’s request. Eris didn’t protest, he knew enough of the female’s past that he would never dare to make her uncomfortable.

And not only because her sisters would burn off his favorite part if they did.

Emerie would probably use her knives but Nesta’s fire was the real weapon. Nesta had no problem using her fire to intimidate but she refused to become a warrior.

Eris didn’t push, it was her choice, not his.

Besides her fire was deadlier than all of the High Lord’s powers combined.

“You may be able to snare a single person,” Eris said gracefully lounging against a tree, “But a dozen?” He raised his eyebrows. “It will be much more difficult.

Gwyn nodded with awe on her features, “I didn’t know that you could snare more than one person. All the books are very vague.” Eris nodded in understanding before gesturing his soldiers to stand single file in front of them.

“Nesta had the opposite problem,” He explained to the enthralled redhead, “Her power came in waves, she needed to focus it. You need to try to see yours as a wave or as a wall.”

Gwyn nodded before turning back to the soldiers. She stared at them but only the middle soldier walked forward. Her shoulders slumped in dismay before Eris could chide her on giving up already she straightened them once more and faced the soldiers.

Eris smirked as he bit into an apple. That girl was a fighter.

“Okay, let's take a break,” Eris said to Gwyn. Gwyn glared at him slightly as she wiped the sweat from her eyes. In the two hours they had been there Gwyn had just caught all the soldiers in her net before she lost them.

It was progress.

Gwyn slumped next to him on the ground and grinned slightly when he threw her a red shiny apple.

“Why the sudden desire to learn how to control your magic now?” Eris enquired, after all, she had had years in temples to learn from priestesses.

“The priestesses didn’t like it. They told me to never use it. And it was dangerous. Catrin, my twin sister, didn’t have it but she used to encourage me to play with wisps of sunlight so I wouldn’t get rusty. When the temple was attacked I stopped using it. After Catrin, I just couldn’t. And I knew that Rhysand would see it as a threat so I kept quiet in the library.”

Eris could understand that Rhysand would make Gwyn into his perfect weapon, just as he desired to do with Nesta. Gwyn wouldn’t have liked that and would have undoubtedly fought back. Eris knew very well that Rhysand didn’t like when people fought back.

“The library? Eris asked in confusion. Gwyn spoke of it as if he should have automatically known what she meant.

“It was a place for women who were survivors of abuse or worse… I joined right after the war.” Eris swallowed harshly at that. He knew already but that didn’t mean he liked for the thought to be confirmed. Over the last few weeks, he had grown immensely fond of Gwyn’s friends.

Eris glanced to the side and saw Emerie chatting with one of his soldiers before he said, “My father sold me and my brothers to Amarantha when we were Under the Mountain. Each of us to a different general.” He saw the realization in Gwyn’s eyes as she realized exactly what he was saying.

Maybe Gwyn knew that he didn’t want her to say something because a moment later she said, “You’re really good at this.”

Maybe it was their newfound camaraderie, or maybe he just wanted anyone else to know. “There used to be eight Vanserra’s. Seven brothers and a sister. Aelia.” Her name was an exhale on his lips.

Aelia.

Beautiful and kind Aelia.

Gwyn twisted her body to face his as she gestured for him to continue, “She was nine years younger than me. It was a miracle, two fae pregnancies in a decade. But she was a girl. She was always treated as less than. But I loved her. She was my baby sister. When she got older we found out that she was a lightsinger. I helped her. I trained her. Lightsingers used to be more common then but I never told my father. He would have killed her.”

“Why?” Gwyn asked her face twisted in confusion, “Wouldn’t she be a powerful weapon?”

“Yes,” Eris admitted, “but she was so powerful. It looked like she would have the power of Autumn instead of me. My father killed her.” Gwyn looked at him sadly.

“It’s so hard to live without sisters isn’t it?”

“So so hard,” Eris replied remembering his beloved sister.

🔥🔥🔥

Nesta was nervously loitering outside of Eris’ study when his voice rang out from inside, “Are you just going to wear holes in my carpet, or are you ever going to come inside.”

Nesta scowled at the door before she strode into his study. Eris looked up from his stack of papers and raised an eyebrow at her. “Nervous Nes?” He asked raising one red eyebrow.

Nesta smirked at him making sure that her face was a clean slate before replying, “Just trying to brace myself.” She made a show of scrutinizing the room before glancing back to him, “It is so very disappointing.”

Eris gave her a lazy smile before purring, “Come closer Nes. You should know I never disappoint a woman.” Nesta glared at him when she caught the innuendo but caught herself before she could snap at him.

“Do you know Cresseida, Princess of Adriata?” It was a rhetorical question but Eris nodded nonetheless. Nesta hesitantly slid a folder across the table to him gestured for him to open it.

“We met in the war and have since been corresponding. We have decided to demand the Night Court for reimbursement for the destruction of the Summer Court, the destruction of the Archeron mansion, and the apartment building they tore down. We both went over the paperwork already but I just wanted to run it by you.”

Eris raised his eyebrow when he read the information for a second Nesta was worried that something was wrong but all Eris said was, “Nes this is really good.” He gave her a smirk before he said, “I doubt your sister will understand half of the references or laws you mentioned here.” Nesta laughed slightly at that.

“I don’t want to be like her. I don’t want to claim a title for no reason other than my marriage. I’m going to donate half of the money I’d get to families destroyed by the war. If I’m going to be the Lady of Autumn I intend to do something other than smile and dance.”

Eris gave her such a bright smile and Nesta wished that he would never stop smiling. Because at that moment he looked like the bright sunset and all those princes in her storybooks.

At that moment he looked perfect.

With a shock, Nesta realized that she would have done anything to keep that smile on his face.

Nesta had been so enamored that she almost missed the next words he said. “What?” She asked. Eris gave a confused look before repeating his words.

“I think I might make you HIgh Lady. I agree with you that you need to earn it but this is definitely the first step. In fact, you should probably ask Tamlin to write a petition too. You could all send them at once.”

For a moment Nesta wanted to refuse. She knew what Tamlin did to Feyre, but maybe he deserved a second chance. Nesta gave Eris a brisk nod before walking closer to him. In just moments she was right in front of him. Nesta didn't know what his reaction would be but she did know that if she wanted to live her own life, she had to make choices that no one else could make for her.

“Nes?” Eris enquired, his eyes wide. Nesta moved closer and closer till she had one leg on the chair and swung up the other so that she was straddling him. Nesta watched Eris’ Adam's apple bob. “You have a mate, Nesta.” He said brushing aside the hand she used as she reached for the laces of his shirt.

“A mate I rejected. A mate who prefers Rhysand. If he prefers Rhysand so damn much he might as well bed him. I want this Eris. Do you?” She enquired.

“I want this Nes. I want this so damn much.” He growled before he was unlacing the ties on her dress.

“This will only happen once,” Nesta murmured the lie feeling like sandpaper on her tongue.

“Yes.” Eris agreed. “How prettily we lie Nesta.” He said before showing her exactly what he had learned in his five centuries of existence.

🔥🔥🔥

“I’m going to be bruised for weeks,” Nesta murmured as Eris redid the ties on her dress. Eris chuckled at that as he lightly touched one of the bruises on her neck.

“Bruised? That’s nothing. There are scratches on my neck. Actual scratches.” Nesta smirked at that.

She turned to him and purred, “Someone’s quick of the mark.” Before Eris could remind her how much she had enjoyed that encounter she had left the room.

Eris only lasted a minute before he burst into laughter.

#febuwhump2022 #febuwhumpday23 #neris #pro nesta #eris vanserra #nesta archeron #anti inner circle #gwyneth berdara #emerie #my life my rules

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sasorikigai · 3 years

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@yetremains continued from here ( 🔥 )

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || Heavy is hand that holds love outstretched, forever longing, pine, unrequited in its request, Having tried to convince itself to let it go, Heavy is the hand that knows it will break, caught in the delusion of what's at stake, as Hanzo Hasashi’s nightmarish vision of kneeled silhouette of him against the backdrop of blinding light of the Sky Temple now attempts to surround him in its destructive, unbearable heat and utter disquietude. Twilight invokes the wonder hidden in the Grandmaster’s mind and invites him wholeheartedly into its horror; depictions of his crumbled self eternal wallowing, chaos and disarray, hopelessness and unbridled melancholy, and tragedy all shriek inviting weakened wails of his kintsugi heart, further scattering and fragmenting into millions of irreversible pieces.

At all times does the inviting bellowing of the great and unknown deep warrant abandonment of hatred and worry. While Hanzo Hasashi no longer chases phantoms of memories, wordless conversations that have not been found, he believed that eventually, all the lost and scattered pieces may come together. But he does not see the progress; it feels like forever to find himself, the Hanzo Hasashi that wasn’t lost in the glacier prison of eternal blackness, as his de-spined corpse stared at the frozen corpses of Harumi and Satoshi, encased like specimen, preserved to simply mock his nonexistence, in his utmost chagrin and humiliation.

In this utmost disgrace and embedded guilt of wreaking havoc upon the realm he vowed solemnly to protect ever since he promised himself to become the Shirai Ryu’s greatest, he had yearned to seek his impending doom. With no guidance to follow anything, but the open arms of oblivion, would Hanzo come to a realization that true peace doesn’t belong in his world. He does not deserve true peace, because he breathes chaos in the world of chaos, where nothing exists to make sense and everything exists to serve the entropy of his mind. Still, his clan and his family take every open space that exists in him, taking precedence over all things that relates to self. His velcroed heartstrings would threaten to sever; in utter exhaustion, listlessness, and limerence, even in his peaceful contemplation of sorts, would Hanzo Hasashi imagine ending it all, as the hiss of his heirloom blade turning inward towards his thoracic cavity.

Hanzo may wield the same stature, the same propensity, a visage, a heart, and a soul of a wounded survivor; but how his fervent eyes would carry the burden of blood that once constricted his heart. How he would metaphorically bleed, its ferrous rust hue seeping through numerous stacks of his heartbeat like ink. An unfinished story has no home in the archive and library of his being, so he would let it all remain amidst parched pages of ebb and flow of his fibrillating heartbeat. “Hara-kiri,” a long expelling sigh rattles his broad chest, as the turning of time decays in the bite of his beastly, wretched thought of disembowelment, as he would embrace the tabula rasa of his glacial winter; motionless and sprawled, transparent and blue. “I was transported briefly to the day when I considered plunging my tanto into my abdomen, emptying myself of all the burden, my incapability, all of my shortcomings as a failed warrior, husband, father, and Grandmaster...” ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

#✗ the ineffable testimony of spawned hellfire (scorpion)#✗ seeking reconciliation with his own humanity (iii)#✗ fight to the final breath (yang || yetremains)#(tangled hearts)#yetremains

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heavensenthearty · 4 years

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New Life (Avatara)

~ 🌊 ~ 🔥 ~ 🌊 ~ 🔥 ~ 🌊 ~ 🔥 ~ 🌊 ~ 🔥 ~ 🌊 ~ 🔥 ~ 🌊 ~ 🔥 ~ 🌊 ~ 🔥 ~ 🌊 ~ 🔥 ~

Avatar Katara is preparing for her battle against Fire Lord Ozai.

@zutaramonth

Also avaliable in AO3

~ 🌊 ~ 🔥 ~ 🌊 ~ 🔥 ~ 🌊 ~ 🔥 ~ 🌊 ~ 🔥 ~ 🌊 ~ 🔥 ~ 🌊 ~ 🔥 ~ 🌊 ~ 🔥 ~ 🌊 ~ 🔥 ~

Katara

“You have learned well, Avatar Katara.”

Avatar Aang’s words sound sincere. Everything about him is always so sincere. Like the sunlight coming through the glass windows, translucent and glimmering, the light comes from him from the inside out… (I wonder if some of his airbender metaphors were ingrained into my brain.)

“I wish you could be in the battle with me, Aang.”

“I am always with you.” He smiles, with the pureness I thought only newborns and white roses where able to achieve, extending his ghostly and incorporeal hand to me. I can see through his palm. He’s not really here. “We are one.”

I reach for his hand, and place my palm over what would be his. For a moment, it almost feels like the air is more weighty and dense against my skin. Still smiling, Avatar Aang vanishes under what would have been my touch, if I could indeed touch him.

He’s not really here.

“Hey.”

I turn upon Zuko’s voice, he’s standing in the doorframe that gets out to the balcony that I chose to meditate here on Ember Island’s house.

“Hey to you.” I smile.

“You talked with the past Avatars?”

My gaze falls. “Yeah.”

I stand up and walk up to the border of the terrace, looking at the night, the moon, and the ocean expanding in front of me. It almost looks like something taken from a painting, but paintings can’t always capture the liveliness moments like this possess.

“So you feel ready for the battle?”

Zuko approaches me, but standing on a far end of the veranda. A knot ties my stomach, but I understand him. It must be difficult to be near the person that will have to exterminate your father.

“No,” I admit, whispering into the dark sky. (It’s more like indigo blue. My favorite color. It feels like somewhat of a cruel irony.)

“Why not?” Zuko sounds concerned.

“How can I be ready for something like this? Avatar Aang fought all of his life to end this war, and I just now mastered all four elements, how can I stop something that he couldn’t in his entire lifetime?”

“Avatar Aang closed himself too much into the Air Temples and the Air Nomads,” he reminds me, “He told you. That he denied himself a wider view of the world and the people in it, that his desire to fight alone caused him to not count with many allies that could help him stop the war. You have friends and allies from all four nations, Katara. You’re not doing this alone.”

“Yes, but… maybe Aang was right about something. It is the Avatar’s job to defeat the evil and bring balance. Maybe I do have to do this alone.”

“Katara, that’s not true!” Zuko gives a step closer to me. Probably out of impulse, but now that he’s more into the moonlight I can see his face anxious and worried. “Aang told that his biggest regret had been fighting alone.”

“And my biggest regret will be if something happens to you,” I say.

“Or Sokka. Or Toph. Or Suki. Sometimes I think I carry Aang’s emotions with me, for the people that he loved and that he lost in the Air Nomads. Sometimes I think I can feel Avatar Roku’s pain for Sozin’s betrayal. Whatever happens to me, it will be what happens to you what I will carry in my soul, till the end of the times.”

“Katara.”

Zuko takes my hand in both of his, almost forming a pleading gesture. I didn’t notice the moment when he got so close to me, but now we are face to face with each other; it’s striking how the golden color of his eyes doesn’t changes not even at night.

“Listen, I… I…” His mouth opens, then closes, then his eyes raise to the sky as if asking for help from the greater powers. “I… Look, I just want you to promise me that you won’t try to fight against my father alone.”

“Maybe it’ll be better if I do, Zuko, he’s your father after all, and…”

“I don’t care,” he says, hardly, like he’s setting the words into the air around us, for us to never forget them. “I mean, I do, but… I care about you more.” He squeezes my hand lightly, his skin is burning. “And about my uncle, and about Sokka and Toph and Suki. And about your father. And the Water Tribe. And the Earth Kingdom. And the Fire Nation. I care about the world you’re trying to save – that you will save. And I want to help you save it.”

“Zuko…”

“Katara, I… During the last few months, I’ve only looked for redemption, in front of the eyes of all the people that I hurt, including you. I want to be this person for you. One that you can trust, one that you can have faith in. I want to protect you. I know that you don’t need me to protect you, but I do… Because you are…”

“Zuko…,” I whisper, “you don’t have to say it.”

“I want to say it,” he says. “I don’t know how, but I want to.” He brings my hand to his lips, they are a brief and faint, but present tact over my knuckles.

I can’t take it anymore.

Whenever Zuko and I kiss, it’s hard to admit it, but it’s more or so to relief the tensions of our crazy, battlefield lives; now it feels more like we are talking without using words, like Zuko can tell me whatever he wants, and I can tell him that I understand.

He surrounds my waist with his arms to pull me closer to him, and I dig my fingers into his hair as we kiss; his lips are thin and almost unbearably soft, I clench my fist in his hair – tightly – at the overwhelming sensation.

Zuko…

“I do need you.”

#zutara #zutara month #zutara month 2020 #zuko x katara #zuko #katara #atla

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