𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙸𝙴𝙽𝚃 / blood .

𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝙳𝙰𝚄𝙶𝙷𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝙻𝙾𝙾𝙳 - 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚁𝚂𝚃𝚈 𝙷𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳𝚂 ⸻ 𝙰𝙵𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝚈𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚂 𝙾𝙵 𝙻𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙸𝚁 𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝚆𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳𝚂 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙱𝙸𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙸𝚁 𝚃𝙾𝙽𝙶𝚄𝙴.

[amarhis]

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .    the  continent  welcomes  amaris  mazhar  of  the  court  of  dreams  ,  the  overseer  of  the  night  court  .  when  the  high  fae  +  illyrian  is  glamoured  ,  she  bears  a  resemblance  to  aslihan  malbora  .  the  26  +  499  year  old  cis  woman  is  reputed  to  be  winsome  and  conscientious  ,  but  a  decade  of  war  has  left  them  faithless  and  guarded  .  if  created  by  the  cauldron  ,  they  would  be  made  in  the  likeness  of  being  born  with  the  sun  in  her  eyes  ─  an  all - consuming  and  blinding  light  that  contrasts  so  sharply  against  the  darkness  that  she  inhabits  ;  the  delicate  limbs  of  a  girl - child  weighed  down  by  the  unfurling  of  leathery  wings  and  the  burden  of  expectation  upon  her  shoulders  ─  to  be  a  glorious  ,  delightful  ,  bright  burning  babe  ;  a  mouth  struggling  to  open  ,  to  spit  blood  into  the  face  of  a  nightmare  ,  defiance  coiling  in  her  belly  ,  as  dark  and  heady  as  the  fight  that  flows  through  the  blood  of  thousands  before  her  .  whispers  throughout  prythian  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  the  night  court  ,  where  they  conspire  to  secure  the  strength  of  the  night  court  by  doing  her  duty  to  her  high  lord  and  brother  .

⸻    gdocs    ⸻    pinterest    ⸻    spotify    ⸻    tag    drop    ⸻

[losetheboyfriend]

Jane Fonda in Walk on the Wild Side, with Andreas Voutsinas; captured by Peter Basch (1962)

[lifeinpoetry]

“And what is this rage in darkness? / And my father, what is he other than dead, / Rage and so much light and so much light?”

— — Roger Reeves, from “After Death,” Best Barbarian

[ofwrxth]

Death, it seems, come for them all. The aftermath of the battle Under the Mountain proves fatal for some and more than a little scarring for others. Elysia’s own High Lord has not escaped unscathed and she’s spent most of her waking hours in the wake of combat at his side, pouring over him and praying to the Mother for his healing. Until Tryian recovers enough to move, however, the Day Court remains steadfastly at the ready, prepared to stay Under the Mountain until he can. Once he’s asleep after her watch and someone comes to take her place does Elysia make her way to the temple. It’s the only place she can think to go where she might be of any use, and the High Priestess loathes to be idle, especially during such tumultuous times.

A soft whisper reaches her like wisps of smoke when she steps into the temple and her eyes fall on the Mazhar, poured over her sister’s lifeless body. Elysia waits for a moment, allowing Amaris to pick up on her presence before approaching at all. She shakes her head, nodding at the Overseer of the Night Court. “You honor your sister with your words, my lady,” she dips her head, “regardless of execution.” The fact that she’s taking the time to do so speaks volumes of her spirit. “May I help you bring her to rest?” Even now, Elysia recites the familiar prayer in her head as she awaits the other’s answer. 

[amarhis]

the  priestesses  under  the  mountain  had  done  a  fine  job  at  returning  some  color  to  her  sister's  lifeless  complexion  ─  in  the  incense - filled  temple,  emira  mazhar  seemed  to  be  asleep,  dark  lashes  framing  the  features  that  looked  so  much  like  the  woman  who  had  bore  her  into  the  world.  it  was  impossible  to  muster  the  same  vitriol  that  she  had  once  possessed  for  her  little  sister  as  she  stood  by  the  slab  of  cool  marble  that  the  priestesses  used  to  bless  the  bodies  of  those  that  had  perished  in  the  attack,  fingers  reaching  out  to  brush  a  dark  lock  away  from  the  ear,  as  though  emira  might  find  the  tickling  sensation  irritating  enough  to  rouse  from  her  death - sleep.  amaris  had  not  bothered  to  give  her  sister  a  chance  to  prove  that  she  was  different  from  the  witch  that  she  called  mother,  preferring  to  remain  wary  around  the  girl - child  that  had  the  misfortunate  of  looking  like  their  worst  nightmare  but  the  regret  of  not  trying  harder,  of  not  reaching  a  hand  out  to  pull  her  sister  from  the  court  of  nightmares  before  it  was  too  late  now  festered  into  something  sour  in  her  throat  even  as  the  high  priestess  approached  with  comfort  in  her  tone.

❝  i  should  have  protected  her  with  my  sword.  ❞  then  neither  of  them  would  be  here  and  amaris  would  not  be  stumbling  over  the  prayer  she  had  said  only  once  before  as  a  young  teen,  whispering  the  wishes  of  a  peaceful  passing  into  the  afterlife  as  her  brother  flew  her  away  from  the  court  of  nightmares  and  into  the  court  of  dreams.  still,  she  moved  a  little  more  to  the  side  to  allow  the  priestess  to  come  closer,  a  silent  invitation  to  continue.  there  would  be  a  proper  ceremony  in  hewn  city  once  the  night  court  had  returned  and  allowed  emira's  wretched  mother  out  for  long  enough  to  mourn  her  poor  daughter  but  this  seemed  more  personal,  more  genuine  and  instinctively,  amaris  clasped  her  hands  together,  sucking  at  her  cheeks  to  keep  her  emotions  in  check.  ❝  this  is  my  fault  ...  she  was  supposed  to  walk  beside  me.  ❞  the  order  had  been  azrael,  followed  by  seren  and  flanked  by  the  general  and  the  spymaster,  with  amaris  bringing  up  the  rear.  she  had  protested  loud  enough  for  emira  to  hear  when  it  had  been  suggested  that  her  half - sister  walk  alongside  her  in  a  show  of  unity  for  the  family,  not  wanting  the  younger  fae  to  be  seen  as  her  equal  in  the  standing  of  the  courts.  ❝  if  i  just  allowed  her  to  ...  ❞  tag  along  ─  that  was  what  emira  had  wanted  and  she  had  been  twisted  with  petty  jealousy  at  the  thought  of  it.  ❝  to  follow  me  ...  this  is  my  fault.  ❞

[dizi-maniac]

[amarhis]

@azraehl

[amarhis]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞  …  the  temple  under  the  mountain  𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡  …  elysia  arantes  (  @ofwrxth  )

the  mazhar  family  was  not  one  known  for  their  unflinching  devotion  to  the  mother  as  some  of  the  other  high  families  were  ─  they  did  what  was  necessary  when  it  came  to  the  traditional  days  of  ceremony  but  as  the  mantle  of  high  lord  had  passed  from  father  to  son,  the  temples  in  the  night  court  were  not  often  darkened  with  the  presence  of  either  mazhar  sibling.  amaris  knew  that  her  brother  had  his  own  reasons  for  scorning  the  concept  of  blind  faith  and  suspecting  the  worst  of  almost  every  high  priestess  but  her  own  reasons,  while  similar,  were  perhaps  more  personal  than  his  own.  she  had  always  held  a  fascination  for  the  priestesses  that  had  dwelled  in  the  night  court,  both  in  hewn  city  and  in  velaris,  hoping  that  one  of  their  scholars  might  be  able  to  shed  some  insight  into  her  cauldron - blessed  abilities  but  then  her  mother  had  been  killed  and  her  brother  had  been  imprisoned  and  amaris,  who  had  been  a  skeptic  at  most  as  a  child,  had  become  entirely  disenchanted  with  the  thought  of  priestesses,  temples  and  the  mother  herself.  (  if  the  mother  truly  watched  over  them,  then  why  had  she  allowed  such  atrocities  to  happen  to  their  family  ?  )  it  was  unfair,  perhaps,  to  blame  the  priestesses  for  what  had  happened  to  her  mother  but  it  had  been  a  high  priestess  whispering  in  the  ear  of  her  father  and  azrael  believed  that  those  whispers  had  led  to  the  death  of  their  mother,  so  amaris  had  not  been  inclined  to  disagree  but  as  she  sat  before  the  statue  of  the  mother,  candle  in  her  hand,  she  wondered  if  she  had  not  been  remiss  in  her  education.

she  could  not  even  be  certain  if  emira  had  been  a  devoted  follower  or  if  her  little  sister  had  been  similarly  disinterested  in  the  idea  of  religion  but  she  felt  compelled  to  do  something  for  her  sister  ─  a  prayer  or  a  ritual  to  mourn  her  lost  and  to  ask  for  forgiveness  for  not  being  there  to  protect  her.  the  guilt  threatened  to  consume  her  in  the  hours  that  she  was  not  unravelling  the  mess  that  had  happened  in  the  throne  room  or  standing  guard  over  her  brother's  beside  and  amaris  had  been  eager  to  keep  herself  busy  to  avoid  thinking  of  her  regrets  but  in  the  silence  of  the  temple,  she  only  had  her  thoughts  for  company.  with  a  trembling  hand,  she  tried  to  remember  the  words  that  had  been  said  for  the  dead,  lighting  the  candle  as  she  muttered  a  half - prayer  before  the  sound  of  feet  shuffling  behind  her  had  her  going  silent  in  embarrassment,  gaze  darting  from  the  statue  to  the  woman  that  approached,  clad  in  the  robes  of  a  priestess.  ❝  if  you're  here  to  tell  me  that  i  am  doing  it  wrong,  i  know.  i  ...  it  is  for  my  sister.  ❞

[amarhis]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞  …  a  private  room,  the  healing  halls,  under  the  mountain  𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡  …  seren  (  @xstarforged  )

perhaps  it  was  for  the  best  that  she  had  willingly  confined  herself  to  the  healing  halls  from  the  moment  her  brother  had  fallen  unconscious  after  the  burst  of  energy  that  had  surged  throughout  the  throne  room  following  the  cleaving  of  the  spell  for  amaris  had  nothing  kind  to  say  to  any  of  the  other  high  lords  who  had,  in  her  grief - stricken  mind,  abandoned  her  poor  brother  to  take  the  brunt  of  the  injuries.  reasonably,  she  understood  that  they  had  all  been  targeted  and  no  one  was  expected  to  cease  in  their  defense  of  their  own  families  to  rush  to  the  aid  of  someone  capable  of  holding  his  own  but  reason  was  far  from  her  mind  and  she  was  certain  that  she  could  not  play  the  diplomat  with  the  fae  under  the  sacred  mountain  any  time  soon.  amaris  itched  for  the  court  of  nightmares  so  that  she  could  turn  her  anger  on  those  who  deserved  a  measure  of  such  vitriol  but  she  could  not  leave  until  her  brother  was  conscious  and  so  had  resigned  herself  to  watching  over  him  in  between  public  appearances,  postering  protectively  at  anyone  who  dared  to  enter  his  room  without  permission.  she  had  just  finished  wiping  down  his  face  and  arms  with  a  warm  cloth,  cleaning  away  the  sweat  that  had  been  brought  on  by  the  fever  as  the  faebane  was  purged  out  of  his  system  when  the  door  to  his  private  room  creaked  open  ─  surrounded  by  plants,  poultices  and  potions,  she  could  not  recognize  the  scent  of  the  one  that  had  intruded  on  their  sanctuary  and  had  spun  around  with  a  snarl,  wings  (  or  wing,  the  left  one  unable  to  give  more  than  a  feeble  flap  before  trembling  and  flopping  down  on  one  side  )  raised  threateningly  until  the  ancient  being  that  stood  before  her  spoke.

❝  seren.  ❞  at  once,  her  snarling  hisses  ebbed,  leaving  her  hollowed  with  exhaustion  as  the  aggression  was  drained  out,  her  gaze  turned  towards  the  ground  in  embarrassment  of  her  reaction,  especially  when  one  considered  how  calm  and  collected  the  second  in  command  seemed.  oh,  amaris  had  seen  seren  rip  into  those  stupid  enough  to  question  azrael's  chances  of  survival  but  she  had  done  so  with  a  grace  that  the  oversee  did  not  possess  when  it  came  to  her  brother.  ❝  i  am  sorry  ...  the  smell  of  all  these  damned  poultices  has  clogged  my  nose  up.  did  you  manage  to  check  in  on  the  boys  ?  ❞

[amarhis]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞  …  a  private  room,  the  healing  halls,  under  the  mountain  𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡  …  azrael  mazhar  (  @azraehl  )

hunger  had  gnawed  at  her  belly  as  the  overseer  of  the  night  court  settled  into  place  at  the  foot  of  his  bed,  insisted  on  being  sated  with  the  cold  plate  of  food  that  had  been  replaced  for  her  that  evening,  but  all  desire  for  sustenance  or  rest  seemed  to  pale  in  comparison  to  the  constant  pain  that  had  blossomed  in  her  chest  from  the  moment  the  attor  had  sunk  its  faebane  tipped  claws  into  his  flesh  ─  the  feeling  had  dulled  to  a  throbbing  ache,  mirroring  the  blood - soaked  bandages  that  were  wrapped  around  his  torso  to  keep  the  still - healing  wound  clean  as  he  laid  motionless  in  the  bed.  duty  to  the  night  court  had  called  her  away  from  his  side  several  times  within  the  past  three  days  as  she  had  been  called  to  appease  the  unsettled  guests  that  had  travelled  with  them  to  the  sacred  mountain,  but  amaris  had  said  a  prayer  of  thanks  to  the  mother  for  seren  as  the  two  of  them  spent  a  protective  vigil  over  their  fallen  high  lord  whenever  time  permitted,  exchanging  seats  to  get  some  rest  or  to  show  a  brave  face  to  the  rest  of  court.

it  was  her  turn  to  keep  him  company  as  the  second  in  command  cleaned  up  and  got  some  much  needed  rest,  so  she  forsook  the  uncomfortable  chair  by  his  bedside  to  nestle  on  the  mattress  itself,  keeping  her  head  propped  with  a  stolen  pillow  as  she  watched  the  irregular  rise  and  fall  of  his  chest  until  her  own  eyes  drifted  shut,  comforted  by  the  mere  presence  of  her  brother  in  the  same  room.  it  was  a  fitful  slumber,  her  brow  furrowed  at  the  slightest  sound  that  dared  to  disturb  the  peace  of  the  healing  halls,  but  she  was  only  forced  awake  by  a  sharp  kick  to  the  belly,  the  wind  knocked  out  of  her  even  as  her  eyes  flew  open.  ❝  fuck  ...  did  you  just  kick  me,  you  dick  ?  ❞  the  grumble  was  entirely  that  of  a  younger  sister  woken  rudely  from  her  rest  but  a  sense  of  awareness  overtook  any  residual  sleepiness,  pulling  her  into  a  seated  position  at  the  edge  of  the  bed  as  she  stared  at  him.  her  hands  twitched,  desperate  to  pull  him  into  an  embrace  but  she  stilled,  knowing  her  brother  did  not  like  touch  and  that  he  was  likely  in  shock  if  the  last  thing  he  remembered  as  a  sword  shoved  in  his  gut.

❝  azrael  ...  brother  ...  it  is  me.  ❞  lifting  her  hands  to  the  air,  she  presented  her  palms,  still  scarred  by  the  faebane  coated  ropes  that  had  imprisoned  him  all  those  years  ago.  ❝  az  ...  please  ...  you  need  to  relax.  your  chest  ...  ❞  she  could  tackle  him,  if  necessary,  but  that  would  open  more  the  wound  more.  

[turkishdreams]

Aslıhan Malbora and Ekin Koç for L’Officiel Turkey (Feb 2022)

[burntgods2-deactivated20241202]

@amarhis

[burntgods2-deactivated20241202]

He frowned, how could she think he didn't care? How could she assume it was anything other than her well-being that he was concerned about. If Amaris died, so would he. So straightforward but the heaviness weighed in the air between them.

Malik huffed out a humourless laugh. "Don't be dramatic, Mar. You know why I care and it sure as shit has nothing to do with my high lord." He said, trying to separate Az from the situation.

He pulled away to take a moment to assess their surroundings, they couldn't be having this conversation here but Malik knew his timing wasn't exactly practical... especially when it came to his romantic life.

"Look, Amaris. I'm only going to say this once." He told her sternly, making sure he met her eyes when he spoke next. "After we survive this though, I'll make sure to tell you this every day for as long as I live."

Malik was interrupted by being jerked in the opposite direction and collided with the wall on the furthest side of the throne room. His head slammed back and his swords fell to the ground. The shadowsinger groaned against the pain, he could feel that his wings had taken the most of the impact. He fell forward and attempted to catch himself but faltered and collapsed for a moment. He stood up quickly and narrowed his eyes at the dark fae that had the nerve to come between him and his mate.

Malik growled as he jumped high into the air, ignoring the pain in his wings and crashed down onto them, crushing them immediately with without any help of his weapons. His swords were still laying helplessly amongst the rubble from the wall. He rose, wiped the blood off his face and let a snarl escape his lips as he walked back towards Amaris. He reached for her and pulled her back into his chest, letting out a sigh. Malik leaned down and placed a soft kiss on the top of her head before turning to retrieve his swords. As much as enjoyed fighting with his fists, his hands would probably be broken by the time they made it out of the mountain. He turned and offered her a smile halfway to the wall before picking up his swords. "I'm sure I could've picked a better time for this discussion, given the circumstances..." He said, taking in their surroundings. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

Although, he wasn't apologetic about letting his emotions run wild during that moment. If he was going to die today, he was sure as hell going to tell Amaris he loved her once.

[amarhis]

there  were  certainly  better  places  and  better  times  to  be  having  such  a  deeply  intimate  revelation  but  as  someone  who  prided  herself  in  keeping  a  firm  hold  on  her  emotions,  both  the  good  and  the  bad,  amaris  knew  that  they  would  likely  not  be  having  this  conversation  had  the  peace  lasted  throughout  the  treaty  signing  and  beyond.  it  was  one  of  the  only  downsides  of  being  the  truth - speaker,  the  harbringer  of  absolute  verity  ─  possessing  total  knowledge  of  oneself,  flaws  and  all,  but  just  because  she  knew  the  truth  did  not  mean  that  she  was  obliged  to  acknowledge  it  under  normal  circumstances.  luckily  (  or  unluckily  )  for  the  both  of  them,  things  had  very  quickly  descended  into  chaos  and  the  sinking  pit  of  her  belly,  yawning  open  with  dread,  had  quietened  as  the  promise  of  death  had  come  to  fruition.  she  had  been  unsettled  by  the  looming  shadow  of  turmoil  since  the  night  court  had  entered  the  sacred  mountain  and  had  brushed  it  off  as  a  trauma  response  from  her  childhood  in  the  court  of  nightmares  but  had  she  been  warned  by  whatever  ancient  magicks  that  gave  her  the  wisdom  to  discern  the  truth  from  the  lies  ?  could  all  of  this  been  avoided  had  she  just  dug  a  little  deeper  instead  of  attempting  to  drown  out  her  sorrows  with  wine  and  dancing  ?

her  brows  had  drawn  together  in  frustration,  both  at  herself  and  at  the  male  that  stood  before  her,  seemingly  so  glib  in  his  emotional  confession  that  she  could  not  help  but  be  deliberately  obtuse,  desperate  for  him  to  utter  the  words  that  she  had  both  desired  and  dreaded  to  hear  ever  since  she  felt  the  golden  thread  of  their  bond  tug  at  her  spine  whenever  he  was  near,  as  warm  as  she  imagined  his  hand  might  be  upon  the  small  of  her  back.  ❝  i  do  not  know  anything.  ❞  (  but  she  did  know  the  endless  possibilities,  the  words  left  unsaid  between  them,  most  recent  of  which  was  their  encounter  in  the  sitting  room  when  she  had  fallen  asleep  on  his  shoulder  only  to  end  up  in  her  bed,  fingers  clutching  at  his  sleeve.  don't  leave  me  now,  malik.  )  her  gaze  devoured  his  features  hungrily,  well  aware  that  this  could  end  badly  for  the  both  of  them  even  as  his  optimism  promised  better  days  and  clearer  vows  but  she  was  a  greedy  creature,  wanting  to  hear  him  now,  knowing  that  later  would  be  too  late  even  if  they  both  lived  to  see  morning.  yet  if  he  had  anything  more  to  say,  the  sudden  attack  from  a  dark  fae  interrupted  his  confession,  throwing  him  against  the  wall  in  a  burst  of  offensive  magic  that  pushed  amaris  back  even  as  she  dug  her  heels  into  the  ground.

the  fae  made  a  motion  to  advance  towards  malik  and  something  possessive  curled  in  her  gut,  a  snarl  ripping  from  her  throat  as  her  lips  pulled  back  to  reveal  her  teeth  (  mine,  mine,  my  mate  )  ─  the  creature  turned  towards  her,  allowing  a  momentary  distraction  for  malik  to  launch  himself  into  the  air  and  descend  upon  them  with  a  crunch  of  bone,  heralding  the  death  of  the  attacker.  amaris  was  trembling  in  both  anger  and  fear  even  as  the  shadowsinger  returned  to  her,  his  warmth  enveloping  her  shivering  form  for  a  brief  moment  before  he  was  gone,  retreiving  his  fallen  weapons.  this  time,  she  allowed  the  bond  to  tug  her  towards  him,  remaining  close  by  his  side,  fingertips  grazing  his  wings  lightly  as  her  cheeks  colored  with  a  determination  better  fixated  on  other  things.  ❝  no  ...  no,  no,  you  are  not  walking  away  from  me  just  like  that.  ❞  the  area  where  his  swords  had  fallen  seemed  remotely  quiet  in  comparison,  the  splintered  marble  and  shattered  wood  forming  a  barricade  that  could  be  reinforced  if  either  of  them  had  their  powers  but  she  would  take  advantage  of  it  nonetheless.  ❝  tell  me  the  truth  of  whatever  this  is  now,  malik  ...  i  can't  ...  i  will  not  let  you  leave  with  so  much  unsaid  again.  or  are  you  a  coward,  erdoğan  ?  you  can  face  a  horde  of  monsters  but  you  cannot  face  me,  is  that  it  ?  ❞

[ines-montalvan]

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 : closed ! @amarhis ( amaris & hayal )

𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭 : taking a small group to safety, hayal and amaris meet taking their respective groups to safety, making plans before returning to chaos

The battle thundered from beyond, behind and still all around echoing through the dizzying maze of connected tunnels and adjoining corridors threatening to spill out into other areas. They were all trapped though, caged and barred from the way out and into true enough safety. Nailed into place by spell work that was not so easily wished away or even cleaved apart with the cloying presence of faebane. At each loud banging against heavy doors, at the battle lines in every direction the sounds of sure ruination reverberated through fibrous sinew with muscles contracting, tensed, uncoiling and recoiling. Systems flooded with adrenaline only reacted and still kept as cool as one trained mind could be in the clarity of battle when a wound still remained unregistered in the back of a mind. A small group, two fae and an attending humans struggled to keep quiet, to keep from worried shrieks of terrified and one smelling rather foul with fear clearly not used to the relative horror surrounding. “Quiet” Hayal hissed nearly, reaching a hand out to still the fragile nerves of the innocent behind her moving closer to the edge of fighting, eyes temporarily pulled from scouting for a protected area, a covered place to deliver them to what safety could be assured. “Qui-” Hayal whispered sharply again as form bumped into her and body reacted to defend, pulling a blade ready to slice  stopping short when and just nearly to cleaving into their own friend. “Amaris” Hayal gasped, breathing in half relief and a catecholamine reaction just barely registering quick enough to prevent near disaster. “Oh thank the mother you are alive, friend”

[amarhis]

it  had  been  wiser  to  remove  herself  from  the  defensive  circle  that  the  night  court  had  made  around  their  high  lord,  throwing  herself  into  the  thick  of  things  rather  than  allowing  herself  to  fixate  on  what  was  happening  behind  her  ─  azrael  and  seren  working  in  tandem  to  defeat  the  attor,  malik  and  koray  fighting  off  the  hordes  of  possessed  fae  to  reach  the  high  lord  of  day  so  that  the  illyrians  might  be  able  to  guard  his  back  while  he  broke  the  spell  that  kept  them  contained  and  created  a  fog  of  violence  over  those  they  had  once  called  friend.  amaris  knew  that  she  would  only  get  underfoot,  serving  as  a  distraction  that  the  inner  circle  needed  to  protect  and,  more  than  that,  it  was  simply  easier  to  fight  when  she  did  not  have  to  worry  about  her  brother,  confident  that  his  general,  his  spymaster  and  his  second  would  guard  him  with  their  lives.  (  she  tried  not  to  think  of  what  it  would  mean  if  all  three  fell,  what  she  would  need  to  unleash  from  within,  the  thundering  swirls  of  power  that  begged  to  lay  waste  to  the  area  in  a  billow  of  darkness.  )  positioning  her  wings  around  those  she  had  managed  to  squirrel  away  from  the  worst  of  the  fighting,  amaris  grimaced  as  her  wings  twitched  in  response  to  the  deep  gashes  that  had  torn  into  her  left  wing,  rendering  her  unable  to  fly.  even  still,  she  kept  them  close  to  the  walls,  using  her  body  as  a  shield  as  their  group  bumped  into  another,  frightened  whimpers  drowned  out  by  her  snarling  hiss.  

her  hand  squeezed  around  the  hilt  of  her  swords,  blades  turned  to  skewer  into  any  foe  when  her  narrowed  gaze  recognized  the  silvery  haired  female,  the  familiar  scent  tickling  her  nose  gradually  through  the  stench  of  blood  and  death.  ❝  hayal  ...  ❞  those  behind  her  released  sighs  of  temporary  relief  at  the  realization  that  they  had  encountered  a  friend  after  meeting  so  many  foes  and  amaris  could  not  help  but  agree,  shoulders  slumping  as  the  tension  left  her  body  for  a  brief  second.  ❝  it  will  take  more  than  some  weak - winged  peregryns  to  finish  me  off,  friend.  ❞  illyrian  pride  was  a  damnable  thing,  shining  through  even  in  her  worst  moments,  even  as  her  gaze  darted  around  the  room  to  the  hollowed  alcoves  and  dark  tunnels  in  search  of  a  safe  space  to  catch  her  breath.  ❝  there  should  be  a  tunnel  somewhere  ...  leading  to  the  kitchens.  i  saw  one  of  the  kitchen  staff  going  out  through  that  before  ...  ❞  before  the  attor  had  unveiled  itself  and  sunken  it's  vile  claws  within  her  brother.  ❝  ...  fuck.  ❞  the  ache  from  her  wings  throbbed  in  tandem  with  her  heart  and  the  shot  of  fear  (  not  for  herself  but  for  azrael,  her  brother,  her  brother,  the  only  one  she  had  left  in  this  wretched  existence  )  that  ran  through  her  veins  would  have  crippled  her  had  the  group  of  survivors  behind  her  not  kept  her  upright  by  their  clustering  close  to  her  back.  ❝  are  those  your  people  or  stragglers  you've  picked  up  along  the  way  ?  ❞

[razorbladeromantics]

i have feelings for u. not telling u which ones.

[burntgods2-deactivated20241202]

location: under the mountain status: closed ( @amarhis ) timeline: after malik fights with koray & az, leaves to find amaris

Malik pulled his sword from the dark, unrecognizable flesh before he whipped his head around. When the treaty was being signed, Amaris was right there. He couldn't see her. He couldn't feel her.

The shadows were everywhere, trying to pry into everyone around him. Without his siphons in tact, they had free range against his skin and hummed around him, trying to latch on someone. This made concentration difficult for a moment, being that they hadn't been without control in many years. He already knew the pain afterwards would be almost unbearable.

He sighed quickly, making his way through the wreckage. He pulled himself towards the throne room, he would check every room until he found her. He had to find her. His breath almost caught as he felt her presence. Malik's hesitation cost him for a moment, though.

A figure approached him, snarling with their arms out, ready to attack. Malik had pulled his sword back out too slowly, the creature had thrown themselves onto Malik and he let a snarl escape from his lips. Nothing would stop him from reaching Amaris, even if he couldn't see her. He knew she was there.

He practically ripped the creature off him and made quick work of the sword, connecting it with flesh. He glanced down, his arm had gotten the worst of it since his armour had already been thrown off. He shook his head and moved quicker towards the throne room.

Malik's eyes widened at the sight in front of him. There she was. He had never allowed emotion to overcome him, not in five hundred years but he almost fell to knees with how happy he was to see she was alive. The illyrian didn't have any doubt she couldn't defend herself, she was always so brave and capable. Malik wanted to be there to protect her, though. That was the one certain thing in his mind.

He didn't pause or falter as he made his way towards her quickly with a frown plastered on his face. "Amaris!" He called out to her. His shadows seemed to cease the closer he got. He didn't have time to explain what that meant if she asked but he would if she asked. He just had to be near her, just know that she was okay. Malik let out a sigh he didn't know he was holding when they collided. He wrapped his arms around her small body and leaned down and placed his head on top of hers.

"Why did you run away, Mar?" He asked, pulling away too soon, frowning down at her, his body reacting poorly to the separation of their bodies together. "You could have been killed out here alone."

[amarhis]

it  had  been  near - impossible  to  pull  herself  away  from  the  inner  circle  (  from  her  brother  )  but  as  she  had  turned  towards  the  fae  that  had  gathered  below  the  elevated  dias  in  the  throne  room,  fear  contorting  the  hope  that  had  once  shone  from  their  faces,  amaris  knew  that  she  was  needed  elsewhere.  azrael  had  his  general  and  his  spymaster  by  his  side,  formidable  even  without  the  use  of  their  siphons  and  only  a  fool  would  assume  seren  was  harmless  without  her  ancient  gifts,  but  those  that  were  cornered  by  the  possessed  fae  had  no  such  skills.  strapped  between  her  wings,  the  twin  swords  had  been  ignored  as  mere  accessory  upon  her  back  when  she  had  walked  into  the  throne  room  that  morning  ─  as  she  drew  the  swords  from  where  they  had  been  sheathed,  as  long  and  wide  as  her  arms,  the  lady  of  the  night  court  had  been  intent  on  clearing  a  path  for  the  others,  using  her  wings  to  shield  stumbling  bodies  even  as  claws  dug  into  the  leather  span.

with  her  charges  trusted  into  the  safety  of  the  dining  hall  that  had  been  transformed  into  a  base  of  operations,  guarded  by  those  capable  of  fighting,  amaris  had  limped  back  to  the  throne  room  in  spite  of  the  concerns  of  others,  desperate  for  any  news  of  her  brother.  reassurance  had  come  from  his  second  in  command,  shouted  words  over  the  clamour  but  time  itself  seemed  to  stand  still  when  her  eyes  rested  on  the  shadowsinger,  the  noise  of  the  battle  deafened  by  the  rush  of  blood  to  her  head  as  she  stumbled  towards  him.  malik  must  have  sensed  her,  his  head  lifting  to  scan  through  the  conflicting  crowds  but  she  had  not  reached  him  first,  mouth  dropping  open  in  a  horrorified  cry  as  one  of  the  creatures  approached  him,  coming  close  enough  to  grab  onto  him.  ❝  mother  above  ...  mother,  no.  ❞  there  was  still  so  much  unsaid,  memories  of  their  last  evening  together  when  he  had  pressed  his  mouth  to  her  head  so  gently,  the  smell  of  his  illyrian  leathers  remaining  in  her  room  when  she  had  roused  that  morning  to  find  him  gone.  (  he  could  not  die.  not  when  she  had  not  found  the  courage  to  acknowledge  what  had  passed  between  them,  the  fragile  bond  that  she  refused  to  breathe  life  into.  )  ❝  malik  !  ❞

her  brother  would  cuff  her  over  the  head  if  he  had  seen  her,  pushing  through  and  calling  for  the  spymaster  ─  it  was  the  one  thing  she  had  been  warned  against,  as  a  girl  training  to  be  a  warrior,  to  keep  her  from  distracting  them  when  their  focus  needed  to  be  on  their  opponent,  but  malik  had  cut  through  the  creature  with  ease,  their  eyes  meeting  for  the  first  time  since  that  morning  when  she  had  exchanged  a  look  of  commiseration  with  him  over  the  breakfast  table  at  the  thought  of  the  pomposity  of  the  treaty  signing.  ❝  malik  ...  ❞  her  mouth  formed  his  name  with  a  sigh  of  relief,  eyes  burning  with  unshed  tears  as  she  collided  against  his  chest,  arms  wrapping  around  his  middle  tightly  as  she  tucked  her  face  against  his  neck,  feeling  the  thrumming  of  his  heart  beneath  her  hand.  tucked  in  his  arms,  amaris  felt  safer  than  she  had  even  with  her  swords  in  her  grasp,  gasping  little  cries  against  his  neck  even  as  he  pulled  away.  her  body  went  unwillingly,  arms  loosening  but  her  head  was  the  last  to  lift,  brows  furrowed  even  as  her  fingers  trailed  up  his  arms  in  search  of  any  injuries.  

❝  run  ---  ❞  indignation  colored  her  cheeks  ─  would  he  always  see  her  as  an  underfoot  girl,  forever  needing  his  protection  ?  the  thought  infuriated  her  for  some  odd  reason,  as  it  always  had  when  the  boys  had  playfully  formed  a  protective  circle  around  her.  with  azrael  and  koray,  it  was  natural  and  welcomed  but  she  did  not  want  malik  to  treat  her  as  such.  ❝  i  did  not  run  away,  malik,  do  not  make  me  sound  like  a  coward.  i  went  to  help  the  others  get  to  safety.  i  am  perfectly  capable  of  holding  my  ground  and  i  ...  why  am  i  even  explaining  myself  to  you  ?  ❞  she  owed  him  nothing.  they  were  nothing  to  each  other.  (  even  as  she  hissed  at  his  scolding,  her  eyes  were  shining  with  tears,  relief  blinding  as  she  pulled  him  closer.  )  somewhere  in  the  distance,  something  shrieked  and  her  shoulders  drew  in  tight  at  the  sound,  hands  tugging  him  away  from  the  danger.  

❝  i  am  fine,  malik.  you  can  safely  tell  my  brother  that  you  did  not  fail,  spymaster.  i  ---  i  don't  know  why  you  care  !  you  trained  me,  do  you  have  no  trust  in  your  methods  or  do  you  just  think  i  will  always  need  you  ?!  ❞  (  always.  she  would  always  need  him.  )

[amarhis]

[burntgods2-deactivated20241202]

Malik nodded while she spoke. He felt the same and for a moment, the shadows seemed to disappear entirely. There was only a handful of times they did this and somehow, Amaris was always present. He refused to think about what that meant and pushed it aside to listen to her. His emotions wouldn't cloud his judgement here... especially when he had to be responsible and watch over one of the most important people in his life.

He wished there was more he could do... For Amaris and for Az.. They had suffered enough and he didn't like seeing either of them in pain. It almost made him nauseous thinking about it now.

At the mention of stupidity, he smiled. Malik knew she was speaking of Koray. His brother was a multitude of things but sometimes, he didn't always think straight. Malik laughed and shook his head. He wished he could tell Amaris about the mortal woman, although... He knew once they returned home, it was fair game. He had gotten punched in the face by a woman half his size. Malik smirked at the thought. He placed his hands on his lap, glancing down at the lack of shadows. It was a weird feeling... to finally see his hands as they were. He pushed the meaning away and allowed the shadows to leach slowly by his fingers, a habit. He didn't want Amaris to worry anything was wrong when the shadows were completely dulled.

He tucked his wings in and exhaled a small sigh. "Here." He leaned back and unfolded his hands, tilting his head back against the sofa and letting out a laugh. He stretched his arms along the back of it, showcasing his ability to truly relax. Malik smiled softly at her and could sense the feeling she was experiencing. He had done this many times with Iona, even Koray and Az at times. If she needed to be comforted, he would do that for her.

"Come over here, I can tell you a story." He told her softly, motioning for her to come closer towards him. Malik tried not to think anything about it, especially her proximity to him. He had enough drama today and while being here lessened the stress, he thought a moment of solitude would do the both of them some good.

[amarhis]

even  when  she  had  been  a  weak - winged  girl,  nipping  at  the  heels  of  her  older  brother  as  he  soared  through  the  skies,  it  had  always  felt  safer  to  think  of  the  male  that  sat  before  her  as  one  part  of  the  three - pronged  unit  that  the  boys  had  become  after  enduring  the  illyrian  war  camps  and  the  blood  rite  rather  than  allow  herself  to  wonder  what  he  might  prove  to  be  (  the  potential  of  who  he  might  become  to  her  )  outside  of  those  confines.  while  koray  had  eventually  weaseled  (  annoyed  )  his  way  to  the  position  of  a  brother - figure  in  her  heart,  malik  had  always  remained  singular  from  where  he  watched,  a  half - shrouded  but  constant  presence  in  the  back  of  her  mind.  in  the  thickest  parts  of  grief  following  the  death  of  her  mother,  the  illyrian  female  had  mistakenly  assumed  that  the  hesitation  that  she  felt  around  him  was  in  part  due  to  a  fear  of  his  abilities  but  as  she  gazed  down  at  his  hands,  smooth  fingers  leeching  swirling  shades  of  black,  amaris  knew  that  she  could  never  fear  him  or  the  darkness  that  he  could  beckon  as  easily  as  she  drew  breath  ─  it  was  not  fear  that  squeezed  gently  at  her  throat,  prompting  her  fingers  to  twist  at  the  hem  of  her  sleep  shirt  until  it  stretched  to  points  of  fraying  with  her  desperation  to  smother  the  urge  to  reach  out  and  grab  his  hands,  just  to  see  if  the  shadows  would  calm  at  her  touch.

(  greedy.  she  was  greedy,  wanting  too  much  without  giving  anything  in  return,  amethyst  hues  resting  on  the  line  of  his  throat  as  his  head  tilted  back  against  the  chair.  )

swallowing  away  the  dryness  in  her  mouth,  amaris  darted  her  gaze  up  to  his  features,  studying  the  laxness  in  his  smile  and  willing  it  to  be  enough.  she  had  always  contented  herself  with  being  the  comforting  distraction  from  the  war  even  before  the  conflict  with  hybern  had  begun  but  the  idea  of  peace  after  decades  of  battling  the  strife  within  the  night  court  brought  on  by  her  father  seemed  to  pluck  at  other  ideas  as  well.  returning  his  smile  with  one  of  her  own,  amaris  felt  her  brow  furrow  as  she  focused  on  the  neat  little  trick  that  her  brother  had  taught  her  as  a  girl  but  one  that  she  never  felt  the  need  to  utilize  on  herself  ─  glamouring  her  wings  away  felt  like  surrendering  to  the  demands  of  hewn  city  and  her  father,  who  had  killed  her  mother  in  his  attempts  to  clip  her  wings.  keeping  the  weight  on  her  back  and  feeling  people  shy  away  from  the  span  of  her  leathery  wings  was  her  way  of  seizing  back  control  over  a  memory  where  she  had  possessed  none  and  amaris  tried  not  to  think  of  what  it  meant  to  feel  so  comfortable  in  his  presence  that  she  could  safely  glamour  her  wings  away,  knowing  that  he  would  not  see  it  as  an  attempt  to  hide  who  she  was  but  merely  as  something  to  make  them  both  more  comfortable.

(  the  weight  of  her  wings  remained,  a  soothing  burden  that  would  lull  her  to  sleep  if  he  kept  speaking  so  softly.  )

descending  into  the  space  by  his  side,  amaris  tucked  both  feet  under  her  bottom  and  nudged  his  arm  a  little  higher  so  that  she  could  rest  her  head  on  his  shoulder,  the  thundering  of  her  heart  leaping  to  her  throat.  ❝  mhm  ...  ❞  a  noncommittal  hum  ─  she  was  not  quite  certain  if  she  could  speak  just  yet.  ❝  are  you  going  to  tell  me  a  bedtime  story  before  tucking  me  in  like  a  babysitter  ?  is  that  who  you  are  tonight,  spymaster  ?  ❞  her  head  turned  from  where  she  had  been  busy  rubbing  her  cheek  against  his  shirt,  chin  resting  on  his  shoulder  as  she  grinned  at  him,  eyes  bright.  ❝  go  on,  then.  tell  me  story  and  kiss  my  head  goodnight,  malik.  ❞

[stavroginas]

José Saramago, Cain

[ines-montalvan]

amarhis​:

the  lifted  brow  was  matched  with  one  of  her  own,  amusement  ripe  in  her  features  as  she  took  in  the  other  woman  with  a  look  of  faint  admiration,  chin  nodding  once  in  agreement  to  the  words  that  were  uttered  ─  her  own  mother  had  said  something  similar  once,  back  when  there  was  still  hope  of  amaris  becoming  a  proper  lady  rather  than  a  winged  hellion,  half  dark - fire  and  half  blinding  light.  ❝  unfortunately  for  my  mother,  i  had  too  much  sharpness  and  not  enough  wisdom.  ❞  light  and  deceptive,  downplaying  the  depths  of  what  she  understood  of  words  that  were  unspoken  and  the  darting  glances  that  some  of  the  high  lords  exchanged  when  confronted  with  members  of  the  night  court.  fear  was  a  wonderful  thing  to  inspire  in  one's  enemies  but  not  so  much  in  those  that  one  sought  to  ally  themselves  with,  so  as  much  as  amaris  wished  to  look  to  the  future  with  optimism  in  her  heart,  she  knew  that  it  would  be  a  while  before  the  people  looked  at  her  family  and  saw  beyond  the  hanging  title  of  kinslayer  around  their  necks.  she  noticed  when  a  spark  of  recognition  dawned  in  the  other  woman,  features  warming  with  curiosity  that  was  mirrored  as  her  mouth  tugged  up  into  a  half  smile  as  familiar  words  were  quoted  from  paper  into  speech.  ❝  even  the  snow  melts  beneath  the  burning  heat  of  a  star,  the  water  droplets  glistening  like  a  thousand  smaller  galaxies.  ❞  words  of  agreement,  of  compromise  between  the  two  courts.  it  filled  her  with  the  same  ridiculous  sense  of  relief  as  it  did  back  then,  only  now  she  had  a  face  to  place  behind  the  words  of  reassurance.  ❝  hello,  hayal.  i  was  hoping  to  find  you  beneath  the  mountain.  ❞

.

“It’s like a sword, it will always cut someone and it is not your fault if the other person is too thin skinned. You could always train it to be more effective. Some can collapse entire empires with a word. Powerful is it not? Unfortunately for both our mothers they were not aware of the future we would have  where we needed such sharp tongues and less ladylike gentility” There was no hope in the frozen depths of whatever hell existed the moment a mother last drew breath and a sword was forced into a hand, all comfort torn away from a growing child. If father wanted a knife, a destroyer of words in her divine feminine rage this is was Hayal had become. Murad never wanted a daughter though so the fact his own tool forged in a dying star in the swirling vortex of a winter storm had both teeth and the great restraint to speak so well and when needed was a great mystery the world may never understand. It was a surprise to think that this woman here with her silvery, snow white hair was so well rounded and even something vaguely close to a lady - that had been all her own. That had been for her friends and the woman she’d honor even after death and the short time she knew her. Wolves would howl at the moon, large armored bears would roar into battle causing the earth beneath their feet to thunder striking fear into the hearts and Hayal could be the softness of a whisper or the piercing howl of the wind and hardly leave her seat such were the power words had let alone how well she could fight. Hayal saw that in this woman who if she show chose could rend stars from the sky and shred through men like it was just breathing. Both had blood in their hands in some way but for a good reason, for the family and friends that mattered having risked lives to ensure a hard won victory. Cauldron help whoever her mate was for they would need to have the strength of a god and the hands skilled and gentle enough not to get cut on the edge. Would she have eaten Lukas alive, perhaps but they may have been a good match. Inhaling a deep breath what friends they would be. “Amaris, after everything of course I would be here. Only a command from my high lord would keep me away and Adrius would never give me such an order. I am relieved to see you. Would it be acceptable to embrace you - its an honor to finally meet you face to face”

[amarhis]

though  the  lady  ariadne  mazhar  had  been  forced  to  bow  beneath  the  archaic  practices  of  the  illyrian  war  camps  that  she  had  been  born  into,  robbed  of  her  innate  ability  to  soar  through  the  skies  with  a  singular  flap  of  her  wings,  she  had  retained  the  steel  spine  that  each  illyrian  had  been  born  with,  even  if  life  in  hewn  city  had  seen  that  rigidity  beaten  down  until  only  amaris  and  azrael  had  seen  through  the  mask  of  consort  of  the  high  lord  to  the  woman  that  she  might  have  been  had  her  wings  (  both  literally  and  figuratively  )  not  been  clipped.  ❝  still,  we  persevere  to  become  women  that  they  would  be  proud  to  call  daughters.  ❞  and  her  mother  would  have  been  proud  of  her  ─  of  how  she  had  kept  her  head  straight  throughout  the  war,  of  how  she  had  reached  out  to  similarly  minded  women  and  worked  together  to  undo  the  decade  of  bloodshed  that  had  seeped  into  the  very  earth  of  prythian.  amaris  knew  that,  had  her  father's  plans  to  marry  her  into  the  winter  court  come  to  fruition,  hayal  would  have  become  as  close  of  a  friend  to  her  as  seren  was  but  the  mother  had  other  plans  for  her  and  her  imagined  future  in  the  winter  court  had  faded  away  into  nothing.  that  did  not  mean  that  the  two  could  not  still  be  friends,  so  long  as  relations  remained  friendly  between  their  two  courts.  ❝  how  is  adrius  ?  i  have  been  meaning  to  call  on  the  family  but  something  new  always  seems  to  call  me  away  from  reuniting  with  old  friends.  ❞  for  that  what  the  kachrylion  and  mazhar  families  were  to  each  other,  even  with  the  blood  of  the  late  high  lord  staining  her  brother's  hands.  (  good  riddance.  a  vicious  thought  and  one  she  would  not  share  with  anyone.  )  ❝  i  would  find  it  insulting  if  you  did  not.  ❞  tucking  her  wings  back,  amaris  held  both  palms  open  to  invite  hayal  into  her  space,  impassive  features  breaking  out  into  a  warm  smile  as  her  shoulders  shook  with  amusement.  ❝  i  was  glad  to  find  your  name  missing  among  the  deceased,  my  friend.  ❞