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illyrianbitch · 4 months

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Beneath the Ashes of Our Broken Oaths

Pairing: Morrigan's Sister!Reader x Azriel

Summary: After abandoning the refuge of Velaris, you, Morrigan’s twin sister, returned to the forsaken Hewn City fueled by a vision for a better future. Now, your estranged family seeks your help when rumors of rebellion spread at a time of utmost inconvenience. Torn between your anger and a desire to protect the good, you begrudgingly agree and are forced to face memories of a past life and the unsettling presence of Azriel– the first man you ever loved.

Warnings: ANGST, Helion being compassionate and its sexy, Inner Circle slander (sorry feyre baby), Y/N is kind of a bitch (but its warranted and a slay), family trauma.

Word Count: 2.9k

Part Two

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

It was Helion, the High Lord of Day, who had seen the flicker of hope in your eyes. A man of discerning wisdom, he recognized your yearnings of a better world. He knew you, he knew your heart, and he trusted your vision— with the promise of your support shall he need it. You knew that your support, in the grand scheme of things, meant nothing to Helion. He had always held a heart of gold, of understanding, and he would have helped you without anything in return. But you had insisted, declared that you needed to give him something to thank him. Your support, he had agreed on. It was all you had left, anyway.

Now, you stood before him, pleading. Your chest was tight and a calm panic filled your veins. You needed to act. You needed to keep things in place.

"Helion, please," your voice, normally composed, now carried a tremor, a plea that hung in the air, reeking of desperation. Low light poured through stained glass windows as the sun slowly set, painting a kaleidoscope of muted colors on the marble floors.

His eyes, usually filled with warmth, held a regretful sympathy.

"Y/N, I wish I could," He replied, his voice caressing the air, "But with the current state of affairs and your father’s growing paranoia, it's too risky. I can't jeopardize my people. My help is needed elsewhere."

Approaching you, he extended a large hand, gently cupping your chin, his touch reassuring and pained. "Give me some time, sweetheart."

Desperation deepened in your eyes, and the intensity of your plea swelled. Aching with fear and worry, your gaze remained locked on his. "I don’t have time. Hewn City corrupts swiftly. You know this.”

Helion sighed, a sound filled with a blend of both compassion and helplessness. "Perhaps you should reach out to Rhysand. His influence might help, now more than ever."

Yor felt a bitterness surface, like bile rising through your throat. A soft scoff left your mouth as you roughly pulled Helion’s hand away from your chin, withdrawing from his touch in offense. "Rhys had a chance to help. He didn’t. He couldn’t care less. I won’t go crawling to him."

Helion's gaze softened, a tender response to your rough tone. He let out a sigh and pulled you close to him once more. His touch sent a wave of comfort through you, something that happened often when you visited him to discuss these things. Helion was a man who loved physical connection— you didn’t mind it. It made you feel seen, understood. Now, you craved that feeling more than ever.

"I don’t understand this contempt you hold. Surely they will want to help you. They miss you."

You rolled your eyes at this. Of course Helion would think so. As much as you trusted him and his admiration for you, he always did love your family. Your sister and your cousin would always be in your life, tied to you in one way or another. Frustration tinged your voice.

"It's too late. Going to Rhysand now would draw unwanted attention or, worse, he’d halt my efforts because of some perceived danger."

There was a moment of silence, and your eyes bounced around the room, searching for somewhere to land that wasn’t Helion's burning gaze. Once more, he moved a hand to gently cradle your face.

"You cannot foresee every outcome. You're not a mind reader, Y/N."

A bitter laugh escaped you, and you looked up at him through your lashes. "I might as well be when it comes to family."

"You've accomplished so much. Allow yourself a reprieve. You can't bear the weight of the innocents lives in Hewn City alone."

You blinked away the tears that welled in your eyes as you admitted, "I can't afford to stop. If I do, they'll think I've given up."

"No," Helion asserted, his voice unwavering. "Your dedication is commendable, but you need to care for yourself. Let me help you."

You bit the inside of your cheek as you stared at him, his brows furrowed slightly and a sad smile on his face. He moved his hand once more, gently tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear. Then, he ran a finger along it, a soft caress carried by a weight of understanding. You shuddered at the lightness of his touch.

"Stay, Y/N,” He suggested, his voice smooth and low, “Let me be a distraction. You take care of others; let someone take care of you."

You leaned slightly into his caress, feeling the warmth radiating from his hand. A fleeting sense of comfort teased at the edges of your weary soul. Yet, reality swiftly reasserted its grasp, and you gently withdrew, a soft sigh escaping your lips.

"I appreciate the offer," you murmured, your voice tinged with regret. Your hand delicately intercepted his, guiding it away from your cheek. "But I can't afford the luxury of distraction right now."

He acknowledged your decision with a small nod.

“I wish I could do more for you."

A tender smile found its way to your lips and you held his gaze for a fleeting moment of gratitude.

“I know.” You replied before you winnowed away, leaving the luminous embrace of the Day Court behind.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You were on edge. You had been for the last few weeks. Now, after failing to convince Helion, you could feel it catching up to you, a dark hole forming in the pit of your stomach. It felt like you were being swallowed alive, eaten by your own anxieties and fear. But you didn’t have time for this. You couldn’t risk falling apart, becoming vulnerable. No, not at a time like this.

You had mastered the art of drowning your thoughts, of discarding the weight that threatened to pull you under. Tonight would be no different. The impending storm would be weathered, as it always had been. You would begin to drink your worries away, give them time to manifest, and then shove them away into the crawlspace of your mind, free to collect dust and rot away.

You moved toward a small table where a simple platter of dark amber liquid awaited. Your fingers tightened around a small crystal glass as you poured. As the first sip touched your lips, you felt the familiar burn, a welcomed distraction. The amber liquid offered solace, if only for a fleeting moment.

And then, you stilled. The creak of the floorboards behind you announced their presence, and you felt it—a pricking at the base of your neck, the subtle disturbance of the air as someone entered, no, appeared. Your body tensed instinctively, shoulders rigid, as you ceased your movements. You took a moment to compose yourself, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply-- a futile attempt to ground yourself.

You downed the drink, the warmth spreading through your veins, and set your glass down, a definitive thud echoing in the silence as it met the table. You turned around slowly, the ever-present undercurrent of anxiety beneath your skin momentarily masked by a face of composure. The simple décor of your home surrounded you—the tattered tapestries, broken furniture—all a testament to a life you had built in the aftermath of your return. One that lacked the color that you once held.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” Your voice, laced with both mockery and a hint of something darker, hung in the air.

In front of you, Rhysand stood tall and proud, a figure of authority. His eyes, once familiar and comforting, now held a look determination. His gaze held yours strongly, and for a swift moment, you saw them soften. But the tenderness quickly dissipated, his eyes narrowing with a slight tilt of his head. You ran your eyes along his face, then down his form, taking in the detailed and intricate patterns of his clothing— an embodiment of Night Court royalty. Then, you looked at him again, your jaw clenching. It had been a while since you looked into his eyes, a violet color deeply embedded into your mind. For a moment, his presence consumed your thoughts, distracting you from the other man that you felt in your home.

From the corner of your eyes, you could see the dark figure stepping out from the corners of your room. A darkness licked at your skin.

"Hello, Azriel," you acknowledged him, your eyes remaining fixed on Rhysand.

Azriel's presence was a dark whisper. The edges of your room seemed to blur with shadows as he stood there, a silent observer.

"I’ve come to request your help," Rhysand's voice cut through the stillness, his words carrying the weight of urgency.

Your response was swift, dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, that's rich."

The corners of the room seemed to darken further as Rhysand's frustration manifested in the clenching of his jaw. The subtle play of shadows accentuated the lines on his face, revealing the strain of a desperate plea.

"Please hear me out."

You shook your head. They shouldn’t be here. This was risky, dangerous. You needed them to leave. They needed to disappear, to let you go and never find you again. That was the only way you would be able to survive.

But every fiber in your being was screaming to do the opposite, to embrace your cousin and explain to him, tell him everything. You wanted to get on your knees and beg for the kindness he always showed you, to ask him about your sister. For him to tell you about his life, his love, his child. But you couldn’t. And from inside you, your heart tugged you to Azriel, his stoic form. You couldn’t look at him, couldn’t bear to catch his gaze. It was all so wrong. This disconnect, this anger you felt for them, for your situation, for yourself… it was eating you up. But this wasn't the time. So you pulled your thoughts together and focused on the one thing that had never let you down: your fire.

You reminded yourself of the resentment you held, deep down. Reminded yourself of how they had failed you, separated themselves from you, your vision, and the suffering of the good people here, in Hewn City— your city. Rhysand's city.

Ignoring his original words, you looked at Rhysand with the hint of a wicked grin on your face.

"Where’s your child bride? I heard she’s reading at the same level as your babe. You must be overjoyed."

Rhysand's expression tightened, anger simmering beneath the surface. The mention of his mate touched a clear nerve, and for a brief moment, you reveled in the discomfort you had caused. It was a twisted satisfaction, a way to regain some sliver of control in this unexpected encounter.

His temper flared, a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability replaced by a presence of anger that you knew all too well. He bit down on his frustration, attempting to maintain a semblance of composure. But you pressed on.

“I’m only kidding, take a joke, Rhysand. 500 years and you still have the emotional regulation of a teenager. Nice to see some things don’t change."

Rhysand's eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and confusion, observing you and your wall of icy nonchalance. His name sounded foreign on your lips, spoken with such malice and distaste. Even the last time he had seen you, during a bloody war against Hybern, you had not been so venomous. This was a fact you both thought of as you stood here, now, in front of one another again. You moved gracefully through the room, ignoring their presence, and opened a small box that sat on your table. The delicate aroma of sugar wafted through the air. You took a seat.

Azriel and Rhysand exchanged glances. Your fingers idly played with the box, an ornate creation that held delicate, candied treats. With an almost casual indifference, you brought one of the sweet confections to your mouth, savoring the taste as if the weight of their presence meant nothing to you. You could feel the tension building in the atmosphere, heightened by their growing sense of agitation and frustration. It radiated off of them like heat. You welcomed it with open arms, like a freezing child in the cold.

"These are the loveliest desserts,” You explained, bringing the candy close to your face with an examining eye, “Hard to come across here. But I know a guy.”

“Want one?" you offered, dropping your candy back into the box and extending it toward Azriel, whose stoic expression remained unchanged.

"What? Doggy can’t take a treat?" You taunted with a measured smile. You didn’t miss the slight flare of his nostrils, or the way his shadows began to snake up his arms, angry and riled up.

A tense silence lingered as Azriel remained perfectly unmoving, his eyes holding a depth of attentiveness that made you uncomfortable. But the discomfort within you sought distraction, and you continued with your mockery. You waved your hands in the air as a dismissal.

"Bah, you guys are no fun."

The room felt charged as you baited them, your attempts to deflect the gravity of their visit becoming slowly evident in every casual gesture.

Rhysand's frustration reached a boiling point, and he took a step forward, shifting the conversation.

"We didn't come here for sweets and jests. We came for you."

You chuckled, a sound that held a bitter edge. "Me? You must be desperate, Rhysand."

A flicker of hurt crossed his eyes, swiftly replaced by a steely resolve. "There are rumors of rebellion here,” He took a pause, glancing around the room as if he was contemplating continuing. He spoke again, “But, I'm dealing with a larger threat that has me on the defense. I cannot afford an uprising."

Your laughter cut through the air like a blade. "Is the idea of civil unrest among your people an inconvenience? My, what an issue, must be terrible."

Rhysand's patience waned, his features hardening. "Stop this, Y/N. We need your help to prevent a disaster."

You leaned back against your furniture, your eyes narrowing as you regarded him with a chilling indifference. "I've heard nothing about any unrest. You've wasted a trip."

Rhysand's gaze bore into yours, an unspoken challenge. "Azriel has been in Hewn City, gathering information. He's heard the rumors. I know you're lying."

In that moment, a silent battle waged within you. The desire to help, to make a difference, warred against the fear of exposing yourself to the dangers lurking beyond your sanctuary. The memories of the past, the reasons you returned, echoed in your mind. You wanted to help, but you knew their presence could unravel the delicate life you had crafted.

Rhysand's voice softened, a genuine plea beneath the layers of frustration. "Y/N, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t serious. Why do you refuse to acknowledge that?"

Then, his eyes softened, sensing a crack in your facade. Inner turmoil clouded your eyes as you locked gazes with him. The conflict within you played out in the subtle tremor of your fingers, a telltale sign of something bubbling beneath your icy exterior. But as quickly as it manifested, you shut it down, fast enough to resolve Rhys of his attentive eyes. He swallowed and fixed his composure.

"Azriel has gained information that it's not just a rise against me. There are whispers of a rebellion against Keir himself. I need you to listen for information from your father."

Your father. A wave of nausea rippled throughout your body and you clenched your jaw in response. The title sounded strange coming from Rhysand, a stark reminder of your place here, of your place in his family. No, no. You thought. I will not let them see me falter.

Rhysand continued, "Azriel has gathered intelligence, but we need someone on the inside. We need you."

A cynical smile now played on your lips as you taunted them, "Maybe it's time for a change. The mighty High Lord struggling to keep control – how novel."

Azriel, who had maintained a cold silence until now, spoke up for the first time, taking a heavy step forward towards where you sat.

"We both know you do not mean that."

You turned your gaze to him, eyes dark. "And what do you know about what I mean, Azriel? You don't know anything about me."

Rhysand put a hand out in front of Azriel’s form, biting back his retort. The room hung heavy as you finally declared, "You've overstayed your welcome. It's time for you to leave."

Rhysand's eyes met yours with a determined glint.

"I will be back. Family does not give up."

His words pulled out a surge of anger bubbling within you. Family? Without a second thought, you stood up, your chair scraping against the floor. "Family, huh?" Your voice dripped with bitterness, and you moved toward him, anger etched on your face.

But before you could reach him, Rhysand winnowed away with a controlled fury, leaving Azriel lingering.

Azriel stood still, his eyes slightly narrowed, his brows furrowed at you. You met his gaze and felt a wave of guilt through your body, filling the hole where your fury once was a second before. If you didn’t know any better, it seemed as if Azriel was….. Disappointed? Hurt? But you stabilized yourself, pushing the observation away. Your anger, raw and unfiltered, had an intensity that took even him by surprise. He held your gaze. Then, like a wisp of darkness, he too disappeared, leaving you alone with the remnants of unresolved tension and the taste of bittersweet candied treats lingering in the air.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

a/n: hello hello!! welcome to my lil new fic!! im new here and i have no idea what im doing but i hope at least one person enjoys what has become my creative fictional baby. when i tell you this story has a place in my HEART....y/n here is multilayered and complex and flawed but that is why i love her!! serving cunt 24/7!!!

tumblr scares me so any feedback is so very loved and any advice is great too!! mwuah

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hanelizabeth · 1 month

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i felt zachary and alexander needed their own flower cards so that’s exactly what i made them 🤍

Zachary Carstairs ~ Baby’s Breath ~ Everlasting Love

Alexander Lightwood ~ White Lily ~ Purity

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jmoonjones · 1 year

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Considering the magical abilities of Rhysand and Azriel, Cassian's at a huge disadvantage during games of hide and seek with Nyx

#fair to assume nesta is behind the curtain too #acotar #Rhysand #azriel shadowsinger #cassian #my art is visualized word vomit #acotar fanart #baby nyx #a court of thorns and roses #cassian acotar #acotar art #feysand #im counting the days to nestaweek #this is so stupid but i had to draw it

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yaralulu · 11 days

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Respectfully I don’t wanna hear a single goddamn thing about nyx in the next book.I am not here to read about babies or feysand being parents I do not care about any of thatttt.Unless it’s lucien playing with nyx and being all hot I do not want hear a thing about that death baby 🙅!!!

#i did not start this series just to end up reading about babies #get him off my page fr #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #anti feysand #lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #sjm books #anti acosf

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loneliestluvr · 3 months

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Hi! I just had an idea about how Lucien and Reader would go out on their first date since their baby's birth, and like they hire a babysitter for the evening. And like Lucien and Reader (mostly Lucien tough) would be soooo anxious and missing their child. Like it would take everything in them to control themselves and just enjoy their date. I would love it if you could make a fic about that 🥲💕 If not, thanks anyway for just taking the time to read it. (Oh! And maybe their child could be a girl? I totally imagine Lucien as a girl dad.)

Hope you have a great day!

the hardest thing.

pairing: lucien vanserra x reader

synopsis: after letting feyre and rhys convince you to go out with them for the first time since your daughters birth, lucien is feeling a bit anxious about having to leave her.

warnings: birth-ish, breastfeeding(brief mention), leaving your newborn for the first time, anxiety, a bit of angst and fluff.

word count: 1.5k

taryn thinks: this request was honestly so cute to write and i so see lucien acting like this. sigh, girl dad lucien. and i know you said ‘go on a date’, so i’m leaving it if people want to see that. i would gladly figure out a part 2 of this with the actual date i just had this part of the idea in my head immediately and needed to write it out as soon as i got your request. that’s it. much love, t 🥹💕

“Do you think she’ll be scared?”

You and Lucien had not left your daughter in nearly three months. You didn’t want to. Didn’t have a need to. The little spitfire who’d inherited her fathers coppery tuft of hair claimed all of your attention at all hours of day and neither you nor Lucien minded one bit. It was you three against the world it felt like.

After having a baby, the bond had only grown between you and Lucien. You only really ever needed each other, and your daughter of course. Your Lucelia, named after her father as a token of love for your mate. He’d wanted you to pick the name since it was a female and he’d been convinced she would look exactly like you.

How wrong he was. You took one glance at that screaming babe, tears welled in your eyes, her eyes, and Lucien’s— you just knew. That curly red hair, her golden eyes like his with a ring of green around the iris like yours and the tanner skin— she was undeniably his. The indications only grew with time.

Lucien had said ‘Thank you’ and kissed your sweat slick forehead, stroking your hair while you both cried as they placed your daughter onto your bare chest. He’d said it what felt like over a thousand times that day, and continues to do so.

Looking at your mate, the love of your life, your eyes softened. He was standing in your daughter's nursery, holding her tiny body in his arms. Shirtless, pressing his skin to hers, tracing the side of her face with his nose, etching it into memory. His hair tied back and out of the way as if he hadn’t wanted it to tickle her. You could tell he was worried just by the soft clicking that filled the room as his eye whirred.

He must have heard you coming, having woken in the midst of the night to come feed Lucelia and realized your husband was not in his rightful place next to you in bed. The mattress cold.

“Love,” You say quietly, almost a whisper on the wind that flows through the cracked window of the room. “—what has you so worried?”

“Everything.” His word is simple, but it’s his tone that tells you everything you need to know about the meticulous list going in his head. And the continuous mechanical ticking your daughter had grown accustomed to, of course. You step into the room, careful not to creak the door too loudly even though you were here to wake her anyway.

“Tell me.” You say softly, reaching your hands out to take her from him. His reluctance to let her go is endearing as he looks to you pleadingly. You only smile, tire laced in your own face and you can see as his eye dilates in the soft light of the moon before handing her over and kissing your forehead.

Cradling your daughter in one arm, you tickle her belly softly with the other, slowly swaying about the room to rock her awake. You hear his deep sigh before you turn to look up at him, his arms crossed and mouth pressed against his closed fist. The muscles in his arm straining as he watches you and you know he doesn’t want to say anything just by that look he’s giving you.

“Lucien Vanserra,” You start, sternly. Or as stern as you can manage this late in the night and as tired as you were. “—we don’t keep secrets. Talk to me, my sun.” Your voice only grows softer as you speak. Sitting in the rocking chair, shrugging off the shoulder of your robe, your babe stirs in your arms. Lucien tenses, immediately moving to try and comfort her as she starts to cry but with a soft,

“It’s alright sweetheart, mommy’s with you.” You say soothingly, her cries die out and she latches, starting to feed. “Daddy’s here too, my flower.” Smiling down at her before flicking your eyes up to meet his. “I know you know that. He’s a worrier, huh?” You whisper, but the only answer is Lucien’s scoff.

“I’m worried she’ll hate us for leaving her.”

“Lucien, we are not leaving her.” You try not to laugh, really. Seeing him so torn up honestly makes you regret letting Feyre and Rhys convince you to go on a double date. A parent double date, as Feyre had said. She, who did most of the convincing, had said it could be good to get out of the house. That if you just push through the first time, everything after will come easier. To give yourself a break.

“She’s wrong.” He says, pulling out the foot stool in front of you to sit. “I don’t need a break, nor do I want one.” His brows are furrowed as you look at him and you only hold your hand out to him. He takes it immediately.

“I know, love.”

“She’s known only us for the past three months, Y/n.” He’s pulling your hand to his mouth, peppering your knuckles with kisses to soothe himself. “And I’m sorry to say it, truly, but leaving her with your sister does not give me much faith.”

“My sister is my best friend, Lucien. I promise I wouldn’t let just anyone take care of her.” You sigh before smiling humorously at yourself, your own thoughts. “Would you rather Eris?”

He glares up at you as he presses your palm to his cheek.

“My brother wouldn’t know what to do with a babe.” He mumbles.

“She will be okay,” You cup his cheek yourself and when his eyes move to the floor you force him to look at you. “—she will.”

You both are quiet for a long time, just sitting together as a little family. He eventually pulls one of your legs up and into his lap to slowly start working the muscles. You don’t mind, you know touch is one of the ways he comforts himself. The way he cares for others, too. And you certainly don’t hide the fact that you’re watching the way the muscles of his arms and chest move.

You were so going to be having another babe soon.

Lucien catches you mid thought, your scent dragging over to him and he looks up at you. Your raised brow, bottom lip tugged between your teeth as you watch him. Lucelia had finished feeding a few minutes ago, but you didn’t say anything when you fixed yourself and adjusted her over your shoulder to burp her.

No, he had been so lost in thought that he didn’t see or hear you moving. So worried about how his heart would feel when he was apart from your daughter. Anticipating the panic that would be coursing through him, how close he would need to be to you when the two of you went out, just so he could keep her scent—your scent—in every breath. Maybe he could psych himself out of it, trick his brain into thinking that because your scents were near identical, you were both there.

A small smile tugs at his lips and he rolls his eyes, gently releasing your leg back to the floor. A blush staining his cheeks as he stood and moved the stool silently, brushing a hand down his face before reaching out for your daughter.

You let him take her, his large hands immediately cradling her against his chest and something in his face calms as he murmurs ‘my beautiful flower’.

He was weak when it came to her, weaker than you’d ever thought he’d be. You thought that it was you who would be worse, giving into her every cry and sniffle. The one sneaking off to hold her and kiss her cheeks, staying up just watching her. Maybe it was the exhaustion your body had been in constantly, but it was him who did all those things. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

He still hadn’t let any male’s hold her until she was a month old, and it was Eris then. He had still watched like a hawk and you were certain that the reason his brother had only lasted a few minutes with her in his arms was because of the way Lucien was damn near growling.

But he had still let him, and you said that even that was a big step. Leaving her, even for a little bit, was monumental.

“It’s only one or two hours, right?” Lucien asks in the dead of quiet, his gaze sliding to you.

“Mhm.” You smile, finally standing as you walk over to him with a yawn and wrap your arms halfheartedly around him. Cradling her with one arm, he rests his free hand on the small of your back. “She’ll be okay.” You nod, his thumb stroking your skin through your robe as he kisses your temple. “We’ll all be okay.”

#lucien vandaddy #lucien vanserra #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar x reader #lucien x reader #baby #newborn #family #date night #i love him #acotar men with babies makes my heart go into v-fib

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lekawi · 11 months

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Baby Carstairs, babier Carstairs, babiest Carstairs

Tag list: @anarmorofwords @rinadragomir @iloveallmyocs @cant-think-of-anything @khaleesiofalicante @drunkonimagination @life-through-the-eyes-of @summergrace-art @thomaslightwood @ddepressedbookworm @axoloteca @astriefer @lord-jethro @runecarstairs @laylax13s @221bornottobe @ibrushmyteeth-donttellanyone @cityofthomastair5 @ipreferfictionoverreality

#in tears everytime I remember there are three carstairs siblings #my babies #carstairs siblings #tlh #chain of thorns #chain of iron #chain of gold #the last hours #tsc #alastair carstairs #the shadowhunter chronicles #alastair and cordelia #zachary carstairs #cordelia carstairs #tlh fanart 💀👄💀

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pvnks0ul · 6 months

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she's so unbelievably fine wtf

#crying real tears #inlove with her actually #dominique thorne #ironheart #riri williams #domiiiii #MY baby <33 #dominique thorne x reader #riri williams x reader #marvel wlw #marvel women

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s-aint-elmo · 1 year

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digging out the eah content i created in a frenzy during last year’s summer of obsession part 1: my personal sapphic multishipping guide (created to explain to my friends which of these dolls i think should hold hands)

(more in-depth discussion of the ships below the cut)

the polycule that will take over ever after

kitty/lizzie; kitty/maddie; maddie/lizzie

self-explanatory. frequently purchased together do not separate. bonus shoutout to maddie canonically giving kitty a little kissie on the cheek and getting off scot-free in the books though. a wonderlandiful world was a banquet to me

cedar protection squad

once again a wonderlandiful world and once upon a time i owe you my life. kitty ESP being so adamant abt not giving a shit then turning around and fucking up those boys who were mean to cedar...... i love friendship

kitty/cerise

also self-explanatory. she was a catgirl she was a wolfgirl can i make it anymore obvious. also doribuki’s phenomenal fake dating fanfic....... transformative foundational transcendental

cerise/raven

YOU MUST UNDERSTAND. i entered eah a rapple shipper and exited the book series ready to burn at the stake for cerise/raven. book two was SO MUCH. it had everything. raven befriending cerise despite her attempts to isolate herself. texting in class. winking at each other. raven meeting the parents and hearing embarrassing baby cerise stories. cerise putting it all on the line to save raven. i’m ambivalent about shadow high but cerise gets literally one (1) mention and it’s in raven’s internal monologue wherein she equates cerise’s hood w feelings of warmth and safety. like how was that in any way necessary. i rest my case

raven & maddie

self-explanatory as well. dabesties. the ride or dies. it means so much to me that raven always has a friend in maddie no matter how many clowns and jokers (derogatory) treat her like the antichrist. maddie the character ever

raven/apple

WHAT IT SAYS ON THE TIN. the gelphie dynamic is a classic and i am EXTREMELY vulnerable to it. they are THE ship and i will pay my respects to the end of time. i am a big fan of how they trade their roles throughout the franchise and how rich the drama and history are between them. it’s pure fucking poetry.

raven/darling

TBH. a serve. the only thing juicier than evil queen/damsel in distress is evil queen/princess charming. big big fan of darling giving raven the five star princess treatment after a lifetime of being feared and shunned and vilified. equally big fan of raven’s momentous act of rebellion giving darling the courage to be true to herself. ALSO. the absolute archetype-subversion slay of the Pure-Hearted Hero(TM) confronting the Mistress of Evil(TM) and dropping their sword. looking through the smoke and mirrors and the will of Fate itself to see the girl who has wanted nothing but to be kind beneath. swearing their heart and soul and sword to the one true good they have found. picture it. i can almost see the 100-word drabble

raven/apple/darling

now THIS is just THE fairytale couple. the evil queen, the damsel in distress and the princess charming ALL holding hands and riding off into the sunset together. dappling on its own doesn’t do it for me but raven in the mix just makes everything gel perfectly. she’s the tomato in the ratatouille the cornstarch in the spring roll water, etc etc

darling/holly

this is one of those ships where i read a really convincing fic and the more i thought of it the more it just made sense. like they'd read swashbucklers and tales of courtly love together. holly would 100% write a darling placeholder in her self-insert romance fanfic pre-relationship as a way to express her feelings. darling would 100% find out and gently pull her out of the pit of sheer mortification she drilled into the ground to escape. also the height difference is a thing of beauty

safe from the polycule

duchess/poppy

they have one singular episode to their name and it was enough. it was Everything. the dynamic you can extrapolate from that one single interaction is so incredibly appealing to me. duchess’s bitchiness belied by her palpable air of vulnerability coming up against poppy’s spine of steel tempered by her skill in gaining perspective. poppy can challenge duchess into being a better person and duchess can be poppy’s character flaw like idk she just has shit taste in women that was the price she had to pay to be moisturized and unbothered by destiny. i just think they have the potential to be the unexpected, inexplicable power couple of eah

briar/faybelle

do i even need to say anything they had a whole movie to make their case. they’re rapple if rapple got their shit together before armageddon, with the bonus of a potential curse-breaking true love’s kiss for the fanfic authors to thrash between their teeth. truly unlimited. also unlike rapple where raven is 100% against being a villain and therefore it’s apple who has to do the mental gymnastics to open herself to the possibility of a relationship w raven, faybelle is just chomping at the bit to make her momma proud and presents a compelling perspective for the whole “falling in love w your fated nemesis” thing

blondie/cupid

they are icons, they are legends, and they ARE the moment. these two are so chaotic individually, what with blondie’s criminal skillset and habit of menacing innocent woodland creatures and cupid’s matchmaking powers combined w her shitty aim, that putting them together can only mean good things. there’s this whole element of their shared passion as public figures who at their best seek the truth and guide others through matters of the heart respectively that’s always interesting as a point of irony/obstacle when they start catching feelings and have to decide what to do with them. their joint youtuber/podcaster slay can level nations

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