"No Need To Thank Me For The Barest Of Courtesies, Fire Bearer," Robin Waves Off His Thanks As She Flips

“I have seen some rather amusing costumes,” she admits with a grin, even as she brushes the image of Zahrya in a changeling from her mind. She had been gone for months, and years before that, yes, but even with what little she had gathered in the last day since her return that was such a foolish idea. One she did not want to dwell on when she could be having fun. Instead, she looks to the Senator and nods in greeting, having not seen her since she had decided to pursue in the States for shits and giggles. “I would apologize that my costume is not as elaborate, but I like it well enough for something that I came up with in less than twenty-four hours.”

location: the steps leading into the palace of pluto person: every single one of yall @senatusstarters​

The thing about hosting was that she felt like she never quite stopped moving. When the doors to the main hall had been opened and people had started petering into the palace, she’d stood atop the stairs and met everyone with a smile, pointed them towards the ballroom or the entrance to outside with practiced ease. All of the nerves she’d had about letting just anyone into what she considered her home had quickly dissipated. She’d set a very simple couple of rules in place and everyone had followed them, no one was running around with cat ears and a clown nose yet. Plucking a glass of wine from one of the many attendants, she lets out a breath for posterity and turns to see the next person coming up the stairs. “I do think the costume contest is going to be a nailbiter this year.”

TATI GABRIELLE ph. SHARUM+ARI for Fault Magazine (January 2020)

edeliexii​:

             Apart from her worries centering around Eric’s lack of immortality, Èdelie’s in a dashing position. Her work life remains the same and she’s encountered several meaningful relationships due to her transition; her overall placement in life seems set. “I’m less confused as a fey versus when I was halfblooded. There’s more of a community which is unfortunate, but the halfbloods are beginning to get their well-deserved recognition day by day,” she replied, sincerely rooting for their success. “I’d have wine to mellow down when I was halfblooded and still do. I’m not heavily dependent on alcohol, though, so whether the tolerance is there or not doesn’t bother me.”

...

“That is an excellent view of it, I am glad you are a ‘glass half full’ kind of person. We do need more of those around,” she smiles softly at the new eladrin — Èdelie, was it? — , approving of her behavior. Much had changed for the young woman, and yet she seemed nearly unbothered by it. Of course, it could be that they had just met and she is yet to be privy to her deepest desires, but until she is shown evidence to the contrary, she will just assume the Winter Court has gotten lucky and gotten another functional fey amidst them now. “And I do agree, there is much more of a community than with the halfblooded, and yet I cannot help but hope things continue to improve for them.”

“And I suppose that is a good way to see it, but I admit I do enjoy complaining about not being able to get drunk with human alcohol so you might hear me say a thing or two about that.”

who?@wintersaurora where? the hall of mirrors

"I have to ask, do you want your human friend to die? Because that is how they fucking die, my friend," she tells Aurora, pointing towards the sheet ghost wandering around the party and getting dangerous close to what she thinks is a rather angry-looking revenant, who also happens to be rather close to the stairs that lead up to the vampire orgy/eating room. "I thought you liked humans? It seems rather cruel to bring someone who knows shit all about the supernatural into a party that is the metaphorical equivalent wolf's den. Tell me that you gave him protection charms at least, I will have to be disappointed on your treatment of humans otherwise."

@warderinan

Intimate.

who? @yaviefey​

where? near hell’s bell

“I am aware that the Faerie King’s Forest is not the same as the Courts, but you are missed Yavie.” The words are said simply as she comes to stand near her fellow autumn fey, looking around curiously as she tries to figure out if he has been staying nearby or not. “Additionally, I must apologize, I have not been a great friend for the last couple of months and I regret it. Let me make it up to you?”

I miss the Weird Sisters but they're thriving individually

wadecalhoun​:

          “Hell, I thought we were friends,” Wade snickered as a hand was held over his heart, as if Robin had uttered a moral offense that could not be remedied. “Just doin’ my obligated duties as bein’ a good friend an’ all that nonsense.” A smile laden with the shards of grief that he is incapable of swallowing down takes hold, matches the detachment in Robin’s eyes, but he’s good at deflecting, always has been. It’s how Wade has computed survival into himself, a prominent and almost primal sense as he has somehow survived things most humans would perish beneath. He’d battled supernaturals through grit teeth and broken bones, blood staining his clothes and flesh, only to come out stronger each time. Wade fiddles with the packets of sugar that are always automatically lingering upon the table, tearing open the brown packet and pouring it onto the napkin that sat in front of the position he now occupied, “Just haven’t seen ya’ since all that ruckus at the Pluto Palace,” he puts an obnoxious flair and emphasis on the destroyed palace’s name, flippantly disregarding all they’d lost.

....

“That we are, my dear southerner,” Robin drawls, her smile turning smaller but gaining a soft twist as she raises her hand and swipes away a couple of strays tears before focusing her full attention back on the hunter. The grief is still settled upon her chest, and she is aware she must let it out at some point, but not right now, not in front of someone who would care. Silently, she wraps her hands around the mug in front of her and lets the warmth seep into her fingers as she feels a measure of fondness settle on her chest at his subtle concern. She takes another second or so to compose herself, pull back the tears but keep the grief on her eyes that match his. Then, carefully, she reaches forward to place a hand upon his and squeeze softly. It’s a small gesture, meant to comfort and to show her empathy, before she pulls her hand back and wraps it once again around the cup. “I have been rather busy, but I do apologize for not reaching out. My newest promotion to Chancellor might have me busy, but I should have made time.”

                   strike me, again… 

                                   ( my wounds heal over with STEEL )

                                        ( my bones mend into STONE )

                             strike me, again, and your hand will  b r e a k

                             ( my body is no longer only flesh and blood ) 

                                   strike me, a g a i n, and you will learn…

TATI GABRIELLE ph. Alexandra Gavillet for Refinery29 (April 2019)