#Moonbeam Nightmare | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

queentala · 8 months

Text

Fenrys bedroom headcanons

Fenrys Moonbeam x reader

Oh gods I finally wrote something!!!! 🥳 Ugh, it feels so good. You can see the variety of my emotions while writing those headcanons, going from poetic, through obsessed, to being absolutely done, and then to feeling cute. And also great shout out to @juulle987 that gave me some ideas, kept me motivated and entertained today. This post is dedicated to you, baby ❤️ Anyway, I hope you enjoy this 🥰

Words: slightly over 3k

Warnings: no spoilers wanted so just be aware of a lot of nsfw content

Even though the smart mouth, charming smile, effortless way of being, or simply the pretty face, might cause various spicy inklings and rumors about the White Wolf's abilities in bedroom, (which, pretty much always are at least partially accurate), there is a lot more than just youngish yearning and playfulness underneath his skin. After all, many might know that the beautiful warrior had his persistent spot in Queen Maeve's bed, only few, however, that he did not cherish this "privilege", as she called it.

There is just… so much darkness in Fenrys' soul, that it is impossible to save any aspect of his life from the pain it brings, especially when the said aspect is directly connected to the source of his trauma.

So no, Fenrys is not the always horny and kinky sex god we make him out to be.

Okay he is.

But at least not at the beginning, or even the halfway of the long journey of trying to overcome the demons that haunt him.

It's going to take a while for him to open up. To trust you.

Now, most of sa victims are not fond of touch, which is understandable as it triggers the bad memories. But I do think Fenrys would very much need and crave physical contact with his mate/beloved. Especially the soft and comforting type, the one that resumes him that he is loved and sets his skin on fire at the same time.

It's just that with Maeve he didn't get to experience the featherlike softness which every lover's fingers should have, nor the addicting feeling of trying to grasp as much of each other as possible. And when he finally does, it's like a painkiller for his soul.

Believe me when I say that Fenrys cannot get enough of your hands in his hair, chests pressed against each other, legs tangled under the sheets… It's not the verbal yes that he gives you when you take off his shirt, but the way he's pressing his cheek into your palm as you caress his face that keeps you going. He's not good with words. How could he when there's a lump in his throat as emotion overtake his ability to make a sound? So instead he lets his body speak.

At first the sex is soft and intense, full of small gasps, long kisses and sweet words whispered against each other's skin. It's more about just being close to each other than the actual pleasure; the beautiful feeling of getting lost in each other, feeling of security sugared with the bliss caused and boosted by every stroke against the most intimate parts belonging only to the two of you.

Holding hands also appears to be an important deal for Fenrys; a physical visualization of the trust and safety he feels while in your presence. It definitely adds intimacy, which he very much craves, to the moment and overall is a really sweet gesture that just naturally feels right.

He always finds a way to connect your palms, no matter the position he has you in, and not even once it failed to work as the motion always turns out sweet, sexy or goofy and either way it's just amazing.

And even decades into your relationship, when his trauma is just a blurry memory appearing in his nightmares from time to time, holding hands is as important as it was at the beginning of your shared journey.

Another form of intimacy that Fenrys adores, is morning, cuddly sex. Or in general just cuddly, sleepy sex as we know this guy likes to take a nap during the day.

It's slow and sloppy, with eyes still closed and face buried in each other's chest or neck, warm covers enveloping and keeping you safe in the small bubble of just you two, free from all the worries of the day.

It is such a wholesome moment that lets you be close even in the most vulnerable state, plus the atmosphere is so sweet and cozy… Oh and I just know that Fenrys gets all sensitive then, too lost in the feeling to even care and keep the veneer of having some control over his body.

He. Is. Such. A. Moaner.

Fenrys is vocal, never even trying to muffle the sounds YOU'RE pulling out of him. It feels so divine, so why would he keep it to himself?

At first it's low grunts and hisses, slipping out of his mouth mindlessly as you clutch him so tightly and good, slowly turning into moans, each louder than the previous one, more desperate, as he's nearing his release. The sweet noises falling right into your ear, broken from time to time by a curse when the pleasure gets overwhelming.

Now keep in mind that all this happens when he's the one on top, so when he's trying to keep himself together.

I don't think Fenrys would be into the dom/sub dynamics due to his trauma; neither being at someone's mercy nor having someone absolutely helpless underneath really appeals to him. However, the top/bottom thing absolutely does appear in your bedroom.

Being under Maeve's command for a century, it's rather reasonable that Fenrys would like to be a top and have control over the situation. (I even had a discussion with someone about this on my blog if you'd like to read more into it.) So while neither of you have more or less power over the other during sex, most of the time it's Fenrys that initiate, choose and control things.

However, I'm a firm believer that Fenrys is a switch.

So with the right person and after the right amount of time, he would give up the control without any worries. And that's when you meet his absolutely new side.

Like I already hinted, Fenrys gets sensitive and it doesn't take much for him to fall apart. Whether you're riding him, or working your hand or mouth along his length, his moans always somehow get louder and more desperate.

And oh boy, try to edge him a little bit, and you get two outcomes.

One: you just turned on his playful mode and now he's going to pay you back with twice as much.

Two: he's falling into total submission and gets all whiny, begging you to let him cum because your hand on him feels so good and he can't take it anymore, but you keep teasing him, telling him that only good puppies get to cum and I'm jqhwjhwj 🥴😩

But anyway, back to playful Fenrys.

Of course having so many bad memories with sex, he tries his best to make it as pleasurable and comfortable experience as possible, both for you and him.

And you know Fenrys, always with mischief in his eye and snarky comments ready for any occasion… I'm afraid his attitude in the bedroom doesn't differ too much.

He is definitely the type of person to crack the most random joke in the middle of the fun, or stop and collapse into giggles at the weird sound either of you made or when the new position doesn't work quite like it should.

Do I even have to mention all the dirty jokes he'd come up with? And you know it's not only you that hears them but the whole court. I swear everybody is so effin fed up with them yet it seems like Fenrys, the unbothered king of annoying his decayed ex comrades, comes up with a new joke every time he cums.

(which is a lot cause the boy's sensitive as fuck but about that later)

He calls you his muse at this point as you're the reason behind most of them.

And if you can imagine Fenrys being playful during sex, then imagine what happens before. Because half of the time it's the tickling sessions that get you into the bedroom, starting as harmless fun and ending up with clothes scattered on the floor and sheets that definitely need to be changed after you're done.

However I would be surprised hadn't it worked the other way around as well, as if you don't see lighthearted sex with Fenrys turning into a tickling fight then you clearly don't know him.

Since we're talking about getting started… Fenrys loves you and sex with you, and ya know, you're not just some lover but his beloved, a person truly dear to him. So most of the time he'd want to do everything properly. That's why I dare say he is the king of foreplay.

Fenrys knows perfectly how to get you into the mood, whether it be more giggly or sexy. He knows all your sensitive places, knows where to kiss and where to bite, what turns you on.

Of course he enjoys quickies as well, every moment with (in) you is priceless. But why would he narrow himself to doing the bare minimum before entering you when he could have you squirting and begging for his cock?

I already said it in my previous headcanons, and Fenrys said it himself; his tongue is his best feature. So who am I to argue with him?

This man. Is so fucking amazing at oral, that there's no enough words in the world to describe it.

He just loves eating you out; love your taste, love the way you're arching and love the sound of your moans. He can spend hours, (and I really do believe I'm not overreacting), slowly drawing his tongue up and down your entrance, eyes closed in pleasure at the way your arousal feels on his lips.

He absolutely outdoes himself in those moments, making sure no inch of yours is left without his attention. Kissing the soft flesh of your thighs, palms exploring the well known shape of your hips and waist as he fucks you little cunt; switching between your hole and clit, treating one with his lips while his fingers take care of the other.

Start pulling at his hair and it only keeps him going.

Just the sight of you falling apart under his touch is enough to leave him hard and ready. (Although, am I the only one that thinks he could cum by just eating you out…? He defo could, couldn't he?)

And just as much as he loves giving, he loves receiving. I already said that Fenrys gets whiny and sensitive when you're on your knees. He'd definitely fist your hair and watch in awe with mouth slightly open how you take his length, too hipnotised by the sight to be aware of the way his body reacts or the sounds slipping from between his lips.

He can hold himself for a pretty long time, but I do believe he wouldn't have any problems with cumming within minutes, especially when you're the one working on him.

Fenrys might not be the horniest person at the beginning. Like I already said, demons of the past do take a toll on him. But as the years pass by, and with your love that makes him stronger with each day, I think I can say this guy is very much able to find any excuse to have sex.

Whether it be a few minutes break before one meeting and another, an especially colder day, or just a very beautiful night, Fenrys can and will try to get you to bed as often as possible.

Oh and I bet he wakes up with a boner almost every morning. Don't ask me why because I don't know, it's just a feeling that he does. What I know, though, is that there's no way he'd handle it himself when you're laying by his side 😏.

There are three ways to solve this and he's not going to complain either way.

Feeling comfortable, Fenrys is the first one to experiment and try new things. As long as it doesn't harm either of you, and doesn't trigger any bad memories, he's down for whatever you propose.

After all, sex is all about fun and pleasure, so why not find as many ways to do so as possible?

Actually the only things that he is strongly against would be degrading and bondage, besides that he's willing to give everything else a try.

Those that read my previous headcanons will most likely recall the fabulous white, fluffy tail plug and wolf/dog ears to match.

And as much as I consider my previous hcs a disaster, this is something I stand my ground on. What's more, I do believe Fenrys would be absolutely and thoroughly into roleplays and dressing ups. AND I DARE YOU TO TELL ME I'M WRONG. You can't.

It's sexy and goofy at the same time, and given that these two adjectives are literally Fenrys' life motto…

He'd love to have you in doggy as you wear the plug, or even more, pressed against the kitchen counter as you decided to wear it (only it) while making him breakfast. Or when you ride him wearing a sexy cowgirl outfit, bouncing on his cock with tits falling out of the tight unbuttoned shirt, tied under your breast. Would he chase you with a lasso through the house before that? You already know the answer.

And do I even have to mention Fenrys in the play boy or maid costume?

This man is such a teaser. It goes all the way from leaving small kisses and little touches all over your body for the whole day, to purposely slowing down the peace of his thrusts.

He'd also strip for you. Painfully slowly taking off each piece of clothing as you watch him with lips watering (I'm talking about both types 👀). And had you shown any type of impatience, he would turn it against you and call you desperate for him, as if he's not taking so long for this exact purpose.

But when Fenrys finally does crawl his naked frame over you, he makes sure to make all this waiting worth it. He worships you like no one else ever could, touching and kissing every inch of skin he can find, devouring the sight below him with eyes blown with desire, words of admiration slipping out of his mouth like sparks out of bonfire.

Words might not hold such powerful meaning as actions, but it doesn't make them any less important for Fenrys. Not only does he use every chance he gets to compliment you, more than once not even realizing it, smothering you with praises and pet names whether it be in lovesick awe or overwhelmed with pleasure, but craves to hear those sweet words fall from your mouth directed to him.

He seeks your attention and admiration like a puppy, melting in your palms as you pamper him with love.

My man is not big on sharing. Even though I'd love to believe that he agrees to bring another person to your bedroom from time to time, especially a man as I whole believe that he is bisexual, I think it would be rather a rarity. Well, he's not interested in other women when you're the only one he needs and wants, and also it would take a lot of time and reassurance for him to share you with another man. But once you talk it through… Dorian would be more than willing, that's for sure.

Oh, I had some trouble deciding whether he is a boobs or ass guy, and Julle solved within seconds saying that he's both. And yeah, I do see that.

Fenrys would love sleeping with his face in your breasts, or play with them as you're laying in bed with a book, not paying attention to him so he has to entertain himself. And he loves sucking at your titties, trying to get you to orgasm just by that.

But at the same time he would waste no opportunity to slap your butt as he walks past or fucking you from behind. Nor would he complain as you sit on his face with full weight.

Ah and how could I forget? What's a better way to worship your pussy than filling it with cum? Watching his cock slide out white from how full of him you are, seeing his seed leak out and drip down your thighs?

You know he's trying to put as many puppies in you as he can.

And as a cherry on top I can offer you naked domestic Fenrys. It is a good thing that he's comfortable, of course it is, however, once he does, he doesn't differ much from a toddler. Run after him with pants all you want, he's not going to put them on, parading through the whole house in all the glory.

But honestly? Is it so bad? I mean, people pay big money for less effective views, so I wouldn't complain and feast my eyes all I can.

In this long as toilet paper essay, we came to the conclusion that sex with Fenrys can be sexy, funny, intense, loving and hundreds of other kinds. But what is one thing that they all have in common? ✨ Aftercare ✨ (you can see I'm losing my shit here? Sorry, I'm just tired, maybe I'll rewrite this part tomorrow)

After the fun is over, no matter how long or hard it was, Fenrys will always make sure you're okay before doing anything else. It is his priority to help you come down after your high, asking if you need anything whether it be water, a helpful hand in getting cleaned, a bath or simply snuggles.

And though he'd never expect from you anything you cannot give, it makes his heart flutter when you do the same thing for him. So maybe ask if he's okay, or play with his hair as he's falling asleep, whispering praises against his forehead, and it would definitely make him happier.

Fenrys is an amazing lover, thoughtful and passionate, open minded and big on boundaries. He can offer you the whole world and crawl out of his skin to bring you pleasure, and still stop without a second thought when you say no. And he does expect the same thing from you.

Because at the end of the day, consent is the sexiest thing you can give him.

#fenrys moonbeam x reader #fenrys x reader #fenrys moonbeam #fenrys #throne of glass #tog headcanons #tog imagines #tog smut #tog #throne of glass imagines

304 notes · View notes

tiredwitchplant · 6 months

Text

Everything You Need to Know About Crystals: Moonstone (White)

Moonstone (The Sacred Stone of the Moon)

Color: White, cream, yellow, blue, green

Rarity: Easy to obtain

Hardiness: 6.5

Type: Oligoclase/ Feldspar

Chakra Association: Brow, Heart, Root, Third Eye, Sacral, Solar Plexus

Deities: All Lunar Deities, Diana, Selene, Artemis, Isis, Chandra

Birthstone: June

Astrological Signs: Cancer

Element: Water

Planet: Moon

Origin: Australia, India, Myanmar, Sri Lanka, USA

Powers: Femininity, Calmness, Balance, Luck, Intuition, Healing, Sensual, Patience, Reproductive Health

Crystals It Works Well With: Aquamarine, garnet, pearl

How It is Created: Moonstone is a type of feldspar composed of potassium aluminum silicate. It can be found in a number of colors, but all examples demonstrate a particular sheen known as labradorescence; an effect also found in labradorite and blue moonstone. Labradorescence is a light effect caused by parallel hairlike structures laid down within the crystal matrix, which reflect light back and forth, creating different-colored effects, including blue, yellow, silvery gray, and white.

History: Moonstone is the sacred stone of India. During the earliest traditions, the gem was said to have been embedded in the forehead of Ganesh, the four-handed god of the moon, since the beginning of time. It was written in Hindu mythology that moonstone is made from moonbeams, thus its luster.

The magnificent gem is never displayed outside for sale unless placed on a yellow cloth, as yellow is a sacred color. According to other legends, Moonstone can give gifts of prophecy and clairvoyance to the wearer. It could also clear the mind for the wearer to welcome wisdom. But to unlock this ability, Moonstone must be placed in their mouths during the full moon. Since ancient Egypt it is considered as a spiritual stone as it is seen as the gem of protection for night travelers.

Since Moonstone looks a lot like the moonshine, ancient Romans believed that it was formed from moonlight. If you look at the gem closely, you’ll see a dance of light that lurks on the insides of the gem. Ancient Greeks merged the names of the goddess of love (Aphrodite) and the goddess of the moon (Selene) and christened Moonstone as “Aphroselene”. While the Romans believed that the gem exhibits the image of their moon goddess, Diana.

It is also known as an aphrodisiac and when worn by two people, they will fall passionately in love when the moon is high. Moonstone was once called the “Travelers Stone” as it is said to protect those who travel at night, especially at sea.

What It Can Do:

When worn, can attract true love and arouse passion

If you give your lover a moonstone during the full moon, there will be passion between you always

Can settle disagreements and return things to peaceful status

Sewn into garments can enhance fertility

Wearing moonstone protects sensitive emotions

Enhances divination, prophetic dreams and prevents nightmares

Great for meditation and scrying

Represents yin and attracts peaceful energy

Protects travelers at night and by sea

Considered good luck

Balances male-female energies and aids men who want to get in touch with their feminine side

Affects the female reproductive cycle and alleviates menstrual-related diseases and tensions

Helps with digestive and reproductive systems, assimilates nutrients, eliminates toxins and fluid retention, and alleviates degenerative conditions of the skin, hair, eyes and fleshy organs such as the liver and pancreas.

How to Get the Best Out Of: Wear as a ring or place on the appropriate body part, would recommend the forehead, for spiritual experiences, and solar plexus or heart for emotions. Women may need to remove Moonstone at full moon.

How to Cleanse and Charge: Moonstone is relatively soft stone, 6 on the Mohs scale, so it should be handled with care as it can be easily scratched or crushed. Moonstone should be stored separate from other jewelry in its own soft bag or lined box and should not be worn while performing strenuous tasks that could result in it getting bumped or scratched. It can be cleaned with plain water and a soft cloth. If it gets scratched, take it to a jeweler to have it polished out.

Charge your moonstone in the light of the waxing moon and keep it out of direct sunlight.

Crystal Grid: N/A Couldn't find one that wasn't too complex @_@

Sources

#moonstone #witchblr #witch community #witchcraft #occulltism #paganblr #gemstone #crystal witch #crystals #witchcraft 101 #witchcraft resources #geology #lunar #lunar witch #nature #geology rocks #rocks #samhain

296 notes · View notes

jynxpsiche · 10 months

Note

OMG SWEETENER IS AMAZING. Loved it. The way Tangerine would be such a good dad, oh man. I'm in love with him.

YES YES YES!! DAD!TANGERINE SUPREMACY🛐🛐

Sweet dreams

part of the “Sweetner” series

💌. Summary: sometimes it’s difficult to sleep when a child has nightmares, but fortunately Tangerine helps the baby in every way possible…

…when Tangerine shows how he’s daddy material.

💌. Warning: fluff, just tangerine being a dad, canon curses. I don’t know many British slangs. English is not my first language!

A gentle silence occupied the entire house, only downstairs could be heard the faint snore of Lemon, sleeping comfortably on the sofa.

The soft moonbeams illuminated the house, making it even more comfortable and reassuring. The cool summer breeze cooled the silent house.

The silence was sometimes interrupted by the rustling of the sheets, caused by the fairly warm night air.

Despite the coolness of the evening, the unique fairly warm air often returned for a visit.

The evening continued quietly. It was deep into the night and the occasional car could be heard on the street. Everything seemed so peaceful, like a paradise on earth.

But even the most beautiful things have an end. It was sudden, nobody expected it, but it happened. The heartrending cry of a child echoed through the house.

A small baby flailed frantically in its cradle, shaking the light blankets with its tiny legs. A groan from the nearest room instantly followed the continuous weeping.

A young couple slept in a room not far from the little one's, faint breaths echoed in the air but that little peace of night was interrupted by sudden crying.

The young woman in the king-size bed softly groaned, starting to move her legs between the sheets. Her hands lazily reached her eyes, trying to remove those traces of interrupted sleep.

She softly yawned and as she was about to get up from the comfortable bed, a strong but gentle hand grabbed her waist, dragging her body close to another.

Her hip made contact with the man's, his hand still clasped on her hip. Her eyes remained closed, but a sweet smile appeared on her relaxed face. Her face lit by the gentle moon.

“Don’t worry, darling. I’ll take care of it” he gently mumbled, his moustache gently brushed her jaw. After leaving a sweet kiss on her forehead, he got out of bed, trying to make the least noise, even though he didn't have to worry about his brother downstairs, who was sleeping like a stone.

With quick steps he reached the nursery, where the baby's cries continued incessantly.

His figure paused only for a few moments in the doorway of the room, a small smile on his lips and his eyes soft at the sight of the child.

“Hey, it’s okay buddy…you don’t need to cry…” he gently cooed, picking the baby in his arms and lulling him slowly.

The little one, once picked up, ceased his crying, but a few cries of frustration still left his small mouth. His eyes watery and on his cheeks trails of salty tears now dried up.

Tangerine held the little one to his chest, stroking his back. His figure involuntarily began to rock from side to side, as if to simulate the movement of a cradle.

“There’s no reason to cry, little lad. Your daddy is here.”

Even though he knew that he was not actually his real father, he could not help but feel a deep connection with the child.

The idea of finding a partner, let alone starting a family, had never crossed his mind. But this change in his life had completely thrown him off balance.

He had never thought he could be a decent father, due to his messed-up childhood.

But that day... on that train...When his eyes rested on the helpless little thing, he had felt something change in him.

His expression always wrinkled when he thought of the child's biological father. How could he have abandoned a new mother and her child?

Child who was also his own flesh and blood.

A choked cry from the child awakened the man from his thoughts and brought his full attention back to the little one.

His body had not stopped moving, noticing how the child was slowly calming down.

Tangerine gently laid the infant's head on his chest, caressing it as gently as if it were made of glass.

It was strange how all his brutality left his body in an instant.

“Ya surely had a nightmare, didn’t you?” He whispered softly. His voice lulled him like a lullaby. A soft noise came from the baby and this pulled a smile on the man’s face.

His big, gentle hand caressed the baby’s hair. “I remember tha’ I always comforted ma brotha when he had a nightmare.” He explained, as if the child could fully understand what he was saying.

“After he always wanted ta watch that stupid cartoon. Said it made him happy.” Tangerine said, smiling softly at the memory.

He was always there for his brother and when he was younger he had always helped him through some difficulty or cheered him up when something bad happened.

And Tangerine could only behave in the same way with the child he held in his arms. “He's just waiting for ya to grow up a little more so he can finally watch that cartoon with you." He snickered with gusto.

His blue eyes rested on the little one in his arms and once again his face softened at the sight.

The child's deep breathing was audible, fortunately he was able to calm down and return to the world of dreams.

Gently Tangerine placed the little one back in his cot, trying to make as little noise as possible.

However, once he was placed on the soft mattress, the child began to fidget, as he missed the warm body of the adult.

A nasal giggle came from Tangerine, but his gaze remained enamoured at the sight of the little creature.

After sitting on a stool, he slipped his hand close to the child, who promptly grabbed one of his fingers, seeking comfort.

When he felt his small, fragile fingers around his hand, his heart tightened from the sweetness of the scene and he felt his body melt.

He had never been used to receiving much affection; the only one in his life had only ever been his brother's playful affection.

But this new addition to his life seemed like a dream, for he thought that never in his difficult and complicated life would he deserve a few moments of domesticity.

Usually, people like him, who kill without remorse, for a living and especially in truly brutal ways, did not deserve even a small amount of joy in their lives.

But Tangerine had been proved otherwise. And he could only be grateful for that.

“I’ll always protect ya, little one” he murmured, his eyes slowly closing in exhaustion.

After a few minutes, Tangerine's breathing was added to the quiet breathing of the child in the room.

The creaking of the wooden floor resounded through the house. Morning had come and the warm rays of sunlight were sneaking in through the cracks in the shutters.

It was still early, you didn't need a watch to tell, as silence still reigned outside.

Light, graceful footsteps quickly descended the stairs of the house. The woman had just woken up and, still slightly sleepy, she walked downstairs quickly, as if in search of something.

When she walked down the last step, her attention fell on the figure lying on the sofa. Light dyed hair peeped out from one end of the furniture and the girl's sleep-dulled mind identified the figure in an instant.

Lemon was still sound asleep, snoring lightly. He seemed to have entered a kind of lethargy.

Her brother had often mentioned to her how, of the two, Lemon was the one who slept the most.

And a sweet smile appeared on his face at the memory.

But if that was Lemon on the sofa, then where was Tangerine?

When he woke up, the other half of the bed, the one in which Tangerine slept, was empty and cold. This meant that he had not recently left the bed.

At first she thought that the twins had left for a new job and that she, due to being too tired, had not woken up to the boy's normal greeting: a soft kiss on the forehead.

Confused she returned upstairs, now left in the silent hallway. Where was he?

Dragging her feet, she headed still slightly sleepy towards her son's room. It was strange that the little one had not yet woken up.

Her feet creaked lightly on the cool parquet, a good contrast to the summer air.

When she reached the doorway her eyes widened in surprise, amazed as she could not believe her eyes.

Tangerine was sleeping blissfully on a small stool, placed beside the cradle.

His hand dangled inside it and the girl noticed a smaller hand clasping the man's fingers.

Without making a sound she approached the sleeping man, a sweet smile was present on her face.

Her hand passed gently through his unruly curls and then placed a light but loving kiss on his temple.

Then in a voice as sweet as honey she whispered gently:

“Good morning, my love.”

#bullet train 2022 #tangerine #aaron taylor johnson #bullet train #lemon bullet train #lemon x reader #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x reader #aaron taylor johnson x reader

320 notes · View notes

throneofsapphics · 8 months

Note

i LOVE your angsty poly!rowaelin x reader fics

can i request more? i will gobble up anything you write not even kidding 💕

some questions are better left alone

Rowaelin x f!Reader

(part two) (part three)

Summary: He shoved a plate of sweets at me. “For both of our sakes,” he said carefully, “I’m going to pretend those words never came out of your mouth. Do you understand?”

Warnings: Angst, drinking, nightmares, small injury, rowan is mean

Word Count: ~5k

A/N: You are so sweet! I swear, angst is my love language. Reader is from a foreign court/country, has magic, and is able to mindspeak - I kept it a bit vague!

I scribbled the note, leaving it on my desk in my room. Going out. Not very descriptive, but I was in a rush, I’d forgotten what night it was, and I’d promised a friend I’d meet them - some bard was coming through.

My mates weren’t opposed to me having friends. They knew I did, I just kept them separated, tried to keep a life separate from the castle.

Maybe I should’ve left a better note, because a certain Wolf showed up halfway through. I caught a whiff of his scent - fresh too, and I knew he was in the damn tavern. But - I didn’t know if he’d come alone or come after me.

“I’ll be right back.” I leaned in, whispering to my friend, and keeping my voice low. I slid through the crowd with ease. I spotted him in a shadowy corner, leaning up against the wall. I dropped the glamor after I got within a few feet of him. His eyes glinted, a smirk crossing his face. He had come here after me, and waited for me to track him down. I let out a long breath, but stood next to him. His eyes were constantly scanning the crowd.

“Why are you here?” I kept my voice low enough that only he could hear me.

“Enjoying the songs, of course.” His voice was honeyed with false innocence, and I could tell he was messing with me.

“You missed the one about you.”

“Shame. Which one?”

I groaned. “I’m not playing into your ego.”

“Pity, maybe I should’ve let them see your note.”

“What’s wrong with my note?” My voice went taut. “And why were you in my rooms?”

“Two words.” He tutted.

“I was in a rush.” I hissed, then he handed me the paper. He took it. “You bastard.” I snarled.

“Calm your tits.” He laughed, “I left a better one - ‘taking Y/N out to have fun for once.’”

“Thank you.” I said, begrudgingly. He did save me some grief. A lot of grief now that I think about it.

“I am a bit hurt you left without me. Now, are you going to introduce me to your friends?” A shark-like grin appeared on his face.

“Are you going to play nice?” I countered, crossing my arms.

“Me? I’m always nice.” He scoffed. “Besides, I’m your best friend in this world. I have a right to know your other ones.” I rolled my eyes, even though the statement warmed my heart - just a bit.

“Alright. Best friend.” I teased, “Are you going to scare them off?”

“Do your mates know about them?”

“Yes.” I sighed.

“And who your mates are?”

“Indeed.” I fought back my annoyance.

“They’re not scared?” He raised his eyebrows. Any sane person would be intimidated by the Queen and King of Terrasen.

“I won’t let their majesties anywhere near them.” He chuckled, but I could tell he understood. I wasn’t ashamed of my friends, not by any means, but if either of my mates somehow thought they were a threat … it would make things very difficult. I pushed off the wall, and led him back through the crowd. I reached our booth, about halfway down the wall and with a good view of the stage, and dropped it. Instead of two benches, it was rounded, one long bench around a circular table. Cian, Isla, Effie, and Arran. To their credit, they only gaped for a few seconds, before shuffling around to make room for both of us. I scooched in, and let Fenrys sit next to me.

I gestured towards each of them, “Effie, Arran, Isla, Cian,” And then towards Fenrys. I was halfway tempted to introduce him as ‘pain in my ass,’ or ‘bastard’, but I went for something that would piss him off more. “Lord Moonbeam.” I bit my lip as he stomped on my foot.

“Please don’t call me that. It’s Fenrys.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Isla squeaked, her face bright red. The others echoed the sentiment, but thankfully not looking at him like he’s a God. I saw the way he was eyeing her,

Are you really going to bed my friends? I said in his mind, a bit louder than necessary.

Why would you deny them a good time?

I swear to the Gods Fenrys.

Calm your tits.

That’s twice you’ve mentioned my tits. Should Aelin be worried?

Don’t you dare. He growled, but didn’t use that phrase again.

It shouldn’t have been surprising that he got along well with them. He charmed them easily - none of the bitter bastard I’m used to. He and Isla, to my chagrin, got along very well. I didn’t move to interrupt or interfere, even though I wanted to keep them as far away from each other as possible. They could be cute together, but I had a feeling Fenrys was toying with her - flirting for fun. Maybe she was doing the same. I didn’t know her that well, after all, only meeting her a few weeks ago.

A few hours later, and after several drinking contests, I was feeling very tipsy. Maybe even drunk. Definitely drunk based on how the room spun. But, with a glamor firmly in place, I’d managed to drink a group of soldiers under the table. Where are they from? I have no idea. But every time one started to eye me in a more-than-friendly way, they seemed to pale, and look away very quickly. It took me a few times to figure out Fenrys was glaring daggers at them. I stomped on his foot.

“Leave them alone.” I whispered. He gave me an incredulous look. “They don’t deserve you looking like you’ll murder them.”

“You’re not doing anything.” He countered.

“I am ignoring them.” I emphasized. “And that works well enough.”

Effie returned, sliding a goblet across the table towards me. Fenrys snatched it before I could, and took a sip. He nearly spit it out, his face turning red, and shoved it back at me. “What is that?” He coughed.

“Apparently something too strong for your delicate sensibilities.” I took a large sip, enjoying the warmth it provided as the liquid burned, sliding down my throat.

He gaped at me - but I kept drinking it anyway.

“It’s a homemade liquor.” Effie replied instead. He grimaced, staring at my glass like it might jump out and attack him. “It grows on you.” She added, biting back a laugh at his expression.

I finished it, and stood to bring it back up to the bar, but swayed slightly on my feet. Before I could grip the table, Fenrys’s arm shot out to steady me.

“We’re going home.” He stood.

“You don’t get to make my decisions.”

Effie grabbed the glass from my hands. “It’s almost closing anyways.”

“Traitor.” I mumbled. The others had left ten minutes ago.

Effie lived above the bar - how we met in the first place. “Go home.” She ordered instead, giving Fenrys a look. One that said - get her home safe, like I needed a minder.

He only laughed and looped an arm through mine, half-dragging me out the door.

“You’re not nearly as drunk as me.” I complained, disentangling my arm once we’d left the building. I watched my feet carefully on the cobblestones.

“I didn’t beat half of the Bane in a drinking contest.”

“So that’s who they were.” I mumbled, and apparently wasn’t paying attention, because I walked right into a column.

“Fuck.” I muttered, stumbling backwards and pressing a hand against my face. My cheekbone will be bruised. Fenrys grabbed me under my arms before I could fall, and howled.

“Asshole.” I muttered, shaking off his grip. He looped his arm through mine, and didn’t let me wiggle out this time. Thankfully, we were almost to the gates and Fenrys quit singing. I tugged my hood up as we got closer to the castle. Nobody needs to know just how drunk I am.

“They’ll see you stumbling.” He drawled.

“They’ll know to mind their business.” I snipped back at him.

“Oooh. Someone’s not looking forward to seeing their mates.” He teased me, his voice a sing-song. I sent a vulgar gesture his way, and he just snorted, dragging me through the halls and depositing me at their door. I waited until he’d walked away before heading to my rooms instead, no sense in waking them up. Besides, on the nights I go out I usually sleep in my own rooms anyways, wanting to wash the alcohol off - and Aelin and Rowan need time alone. They don’t say it, but they were a couple long before me. Maybe I’m assuming things. I’m too drunk to think too much.

Normally Y/N stays in her rooms if she’s gone out, and they won’t argue or try to drag her into their rooms. If she needs space, they’ll let her have it.

But, tonight, Rowan had a feeling. A feeling he needed to be there. To see her. Like something might be wrong. He slipped out of bed, looking at the clock. Three hours past midnight. She should be back by now.

“Rowan?” Aelin mumbled sleepily, her eyes opening.

“I’m going to check on Y/N.”

Those turquoise eyes opened further. “I’ll come with you.” She yawned. He didn’t fight his wife as she climbed out of bed, grabbing a robe and wrapping it around herself. They moved quickly and silently, through the passage that connects both of their rooms.

He slowly pushed the door open. Asleep, sprawled out on her side, on the couch.

Safe - but a giant blue bruise blooming on her cheek. And absolutely reeking of alcohol. Did she get into some sort of brawl? He’d kill Fenrys. Slowly. Aelin placed a hand on his arm, but he could tell she was just as angry.

“Y/N.” A voice murmured, and I felt a hand running down my arm. A mumbled, some intelligible noise.

“Y/N. Wake up.” The voice, feminine, was more insistent. Aelin. Why was Aelin in here?.

Her eyes opened, glassy, pupils slightly dilated. Drunk. And very drunk. How fucking much did she drink? Y/N could almost drink Aelin under the table.

“Petal.” His mate's voice was low. “Did you get in a fight?”

“A what?” She was confused.

“Did you get in a rutting brawl?” I said from the door, not bothering to keep my voice low. Aelin turned and glared at me.

“What?”

My eyes narrowed. “Don’t play dumb.”

Her hand went up to her cheek, wincing, and she threw her head back in laughter, nearly howling. “I walked into a pillar.” She said in between laughs.”

Aelin was biting back a laugh, but I was just getting more pissed. Maybe it was a bit funny - but she was drunk enough she got herself hurt.

“Where was Fenrys?” My sharp tone had Aelin cutting a look at me. Don’t start.

“Caught me before I could hit the ground.” Her words slurred together.

“Come on.” Aelin tugged at her arm, pulling her up. “I’m not going to let you choke on your own vomit.”

She looked offended. “I am not throwing up.” The words came out very insistent. Aelin gave her a bemused smile, but pulled her up anyway, leading her towards her bathroom. “You reek.” She told her.

“That is rude.” Y/N stuck her tongue out.

I rolled my eyes, but followed them, grabbing a nightgown for Y/N to put on.

“What do I smell like?” She asked Aelin, stumbling next to her. Aelin’s arm wrapped around her waist holding her closely.

“Right now? Alcohol.”

Y/n let out an over dramatic sigh. “No, what’s my scent? You’re jasmine and lemon verbena, and he’s pine and snow.”

“Nutmeg and honey.” I answered from behind her, and her head turned, giving me a goofy smile.

“That’s nice.” She mumbled. I fought the smile threatening to form on my face.

Aelin was very sweet, helping me get in the tub, even washing me. I tried to stop her, but she cut me a glare. A nasty one. After that I let her.

“Who did you go see?” She asked, scrubbing my shoulders.

“Some Bard came into town.” I said, before sighing. Her touch feels incredible. “You have magic fingers.” I told her.

Her eyes crinkled, “and you’re drunk.”

“Maybe a bit. Fenrys told me I beat half of the Bane in a drinking contest.”

“The Bane?” Rowan’s voice came from the door. Low. And deadly low.

“That’s what he said.” I confirmed, looking at Aelin instead, who pressed her lips in a tight line. “What’s wrong with the bane?”

“They have a reputation.”

“I have a reputation.” I exclaimed.

“Excuse me?” Her voice grew a bit shrill.

“I drank half of them under the table.”

“Right.” She breathed out.

She thought Rowan was going to explode when he heard her say she has a reputation. He relaxed - barely. He needed something to do or he might blow up.

“Rowan get a towel.” I ordered without looking, and heard him moving around, before the soft fabric was pressed in my hands. “Help her out.”

“I don’t nee-” I pressed my finger to her lips. It’ll help him. I told her, speaking mind to mind.

Okay. Her sweet voice floated through my mind.

Even though anger rolled from him in waves, his hands were gentle as he lifted her out, holding her steady. I wordlessly handed him the towel, and gave him the chance to fuss, slipping a nightgown over her - one he’d already picked out. He went far enough to make her clean her mouth, and dried her hair for her. That brought a smile to my lips.

“Thank you.” She told him after, and me.

She tried to wobble off towards her bed, her legs shaky under her. I cut her off before she could reach the door. “You’re coming with us.”

“But it’s your-”

“No buts.” But … What was she going to say? Before ‘it’s your-’

“It’s our what?” Rowan asked for me.

She frowned. “Your night. For the two of you.”

I frowned, looking at Rowan. “We’ll talk about this in the morning.” When she’s more likely to remember it. He added to me.

“Nothing to talk about.” She mumbled, but let him pick her up, carrying her back to our room.

I groaned as the morning light hit me, streaming through the windows. My head started absolutely pounding. “Gods.” I groaned, pressing my palms into my eyes - like I might shove the headache away. A rough hand tugged one of mine away, pressing a glass vial into it. I peeked the free eye open, squinting to see Rowan.

“I’m surprised.” I murmured. A pain tonic. “Thank you.”

“We need to talk.” He grunted. “And I don’t want to deal with your whining.” Several months ago, I might’ve been hurt by the comment, but I was used to it by now, and ignored the second part, swigging the slightly vile liquid down. Fighting back the urge to make a face.

“One day I’ll figure out how to make those taste better.” I glared at the offending piece of glass. Rowan snatched it out of my hands.

“Lets go.” He jerked his head.

“Alright alright.” That’s when I felt the heat on my face. I looked across in the mirror. A large purple bruise bloomed across my feet. “What did I do?” My eyes were wide.

“You don’t remember?” He snorted, and left the room.

“Bastard.” I muttered under my breath, low enough he wouldn’t hear, and grabbed a robe before following him. “What did I do last night?” I repeated, walking into the sitting room and digging through my mind for what the hell might’ve happened.

He didn’t answer, pouring tea instead. “Where’s Aelin?” I tried.

“Training.” He said curtly.

“Rowan.” I said quietly. “What happened?” My memories cut off right before leaving the Tavern.

He shoved the cup in my hands, watching and waiting for me to take a sip. I did, and waited for him to respond.

“What do you remember?” He questioned, his voice was cold - usually meaning I’m about to be extensively lectured or punished for something.

“Up until leaving, with Fenrys.” He can almost always tell when I’m lying.

“You hurt yourself. Walking into a pillar.”

I sucked my lips in, fighting the urge to laugh. “Of course I did.” I choked out.

His eyes narrowed. “It’s not funny. What if Fenrys wasn’t with you?”

“I have other friends.” I countered, crossing my arms.

“Who we’ve never met.” His words came out flat. Emotionless.

“Would you like to meet them?” I said, feeling a bit on edge. “Do you not trust me to be a good judge of character?” That wasn’t exactly fair … but I didn’t and don’t need them to approve of my friends.

“Don’t put words in my mouth.” He growled. “Are you embarrassed by us? Do you not want them to know you’re with us?”

Cruel. He was playing dirty. “Of course not. They know” I kept my voice calm.

“Then why?”

“You never asked.” I countered. It’s true.

“You never asked to meet our friends, and we introduced you.”

My breaths got heavier. This wasn’t fair, that’s not the same thing. “When you introduced me, I was just a member of a foreign court, a delegate.”

He stalked up to me, standing so close that if I took a deep breath, my breasts would brush against him. “Was? Aren’t you still just a member of that court?” His voice was taunting, and cruel. Absolutely cruel. He meant for his words to hurt, and I could feel the slight satisfaction running through him when it did, but it was quickly pushed out by regret.

“Maybe I am, and maybe it’s time I go home for a bit.” Silver might’ve lined my eyes, but I hit right back. I turned sharply on my heel, walking silently towards my rooms, out the main door. I didn’t look back as I closed it softly, a slight click.

He didn’t follow, and maybe that’s what hurt the most.

I collapsed on my bed, my knees pressing into my elbows, my head held in my hands, trying to figure out what about last night set him off. Made him so angry he’d say those things. Not that I acted much better.

I wanted him to follow me. To tell me not to go - or to yell at me. Something. I paced for the better part of an hour, before deciding to go back. Porting off back home wouldn’t do anything, it would just make things worse.

I took the direct passage this time, hearing another door creak open at the same time as mine. Rowan looked directly at me. “Aren’t you supposed to be gone?” The same cruel tone as earlier. Maybe I imagined that regret. I couldn’t say anything, or my voice might’ve broken. I took a step back, closing the door.

I heard Aelin’s voice, “gone where?” But I’d already turned, heading back. “Rowan. What did you do?”

Is this what the rest of my life will be like? Cruel barbs, hurtful words from both sides. A traitorous thought ran through my mind, why couldn’t it just be Aelin? But I dismissed that immediately. I couldn’t imagine not having both of them, not having two mates. It would be wrong, it wouldn’t feel complete. But for them - they could imagine it, they’ve lived it, and likely were perfectly fine before I came along. The two of them fit. Balanced each other perfectly.

Am I some kind of wrench thrown in? A piece being forced into a puzzle, one that doesn’t quite fit? I’ve heard of mating bonds being rejected before. Ours is already sealed but … Even thinking about it brings a sharp pain in my chest. Gods they’re already a part of me, dug in so deep it would take something horrible and cataclysmic to drive me away from them.

I hadn’t told them I loved them. They hadn’t told me. A final barrier that hasn’t been crossed.

I sought out Fenrys around lunch, convincing him to come eat with me in my rooms. He seemed wary, considering this is definitely out-of-character for me.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked, shoving a tart in his mouth.

“What were Rowan and Aelin like before me?”

He choked slightly, coughing into his hand, but finishing the food. I watched him intently. I needed to know. Had to know.

“Fine. They were fine, at least it seemed that way.” He stared back at me. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m an outsider.” I started. He gave me a look that said, no shit. “I don’t … I don’t know if I belong here.”

“I was an outsider.” Fenrys leaned back. “You know I’m from Doranelle. It was difficult at first, but I found my place.” He spit out the country’s name, like it was poison.

“You rejected Doranelle.”

“I did.” He nodded, his tone cautious, like he knew where I was headed.

“I don’t reject my home.”

“You can belong to more than one place.” He argued.

“But me being here is causing an issue.”

“Rowan and Aelin fought. Still fight sometimes. Does that mean they don’t belong together?” Fenrys is more perceptive than people give him credit for.

“They’re different.”

“How?” He sounded a bit exasperated.

“Because they share bonds together I never will.” That truth finally came out. “And if there was a situation they had to …” My voice broke.

He shoved a plate of sweets at me. “For both of our sakes,” he said carefully, “I’m going to pretend those words never came out of your mouth. Do you understand?”

I nodded. A warning - if those questions were brought up … the results that come out might cause irreparable damage. Sometimes those things are better left swallowed. At the same time, I want to know my place with them. We ate in silence for a few minutes before the door breezed open. Aelin, I’d know the jasmine and lemon verbena anywhere.

“Really?” She sighed, “Choosing that dog over me?”

“I wasn’t aware there was a choice.” She raised an eyebrow, but sat next to me, grabbing some sweets.

“You always have the best sweets.” She popped a truffle in her mouth, moaning.

“And you always raid my collection.”

“They’re bought on Crown gold.” She winked. Fenrys winced across from me, the action thankfully going unnoticed by Aelin, who had her eyes closed.

I didn’t reply, but drank some water instead, the chocolates suddenly seemed unappetizing. “I do keep them just for you.” I covered smoothly. She placed a grateful kiss on my cheek, before turning, throwing her legs over my lap and lounging on the couch. I absentmindedly rubbed circles into her calves.

“I heard you beat half of the Bane in a drinking contest. Aedion is ashamed. I’m quite proud.” She grinned.

“Are you complimenting someone else's drinking prowess?” Fenrys looked amused, leaning back and crossing an ankle over his knee.

“I’m giving credit where credit is due.”

“Very kind of you.” I kept a smile. A forced one, and kept rubbing circles into her legs. Where credit is due. Drinker, bed warmer, what else? Aelin seemed to notice the shift, because she kicked Fenrys out, he left with a tight glance between the two of us, but no complaints.

“What’s wrong with you?” She nudged my thigh with her toe.

I flinched slightly. “A bit homesick.” Close enough.

“Rowan told me about that.” I could see the bored expression on her face from the corner of my eyes. She’s keeping a tight lid on her emotions.

“I sometimes say things I regret.” Regretting something doesn’t mean it wasn’t true.

“We all do.” I could hear the same echo, doesn’t mean it wasn’t true.

Ask the damn question Y/N. I chided myself, I can’t put words into her mouth. “Did he mean it?” The words came out quickly.

“Isn’t that a question you should ask him?”

She has a point, so I countered with something I should ask her. “How do you feel about it? Both things.” Please don’t make me repeat them. I pleaded to her silently. She took some pity on me.

“I wouldn’t mind meeting your friends, but I understand we can be … intimidating. But I don’t know if you’re keeping them from us because of that, or if you’re scared we’ll drive one of them off.” I waited for her to continue. There wasn’t technically a question there. “Do you want to be a member of this court? Would that mean you’re choosing?”

Choosing. Right. Absolute loyalty - something I can’t promise. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

“You’re our mate.” She said softly. “And you have your place here.”

“Are you telling me to know my place?” Maybe that wasn’t fair.

“I didn’t say that.” She said sharply. But you didn’t not say it. Gods I wanted to hear all of the things that weren’t said, but I wanted them to soothe me. I don’t want the truth right now. I want sweet things meant to make me feel better. I’d even take little lies over these tiny cracks I’m feeling. The faltering, the hesitation. “Are you having trouble adjusting?”

“Aelin it’s been nearly two years.”

“And we’re immortal.”

“I’ve found a life here.” We’re both skilled at non-answers. I still hadn’t looked at her, couldn’t meet her gaze. Around her, and him, my eyes tend to show everything. A wall I can’t seem to put up.

“Look at me.” Kind, but unyielding. I do.

Tears are threatening to flood down her face, I can see it. I can’t help but think maybe she’s being a bit oversensitive. I’ve seen her in her own court .. well, the one she doesn’t really claim. Tough love? Or soft?

“Was it better without me?”

Oh Gods I did not expect that. I moved fast, tugging her to straddle my lap. “Don’t ever say that.” My voice was harsh, my hand gripping her chin, making sure she looked directly at me. “Did we make you feel that way?”

She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, I just noticed it was bloodied and bruised - like she’d been biting on it all day. “I don’t know how much of it is just in my head.” So we did make her feel like that, at least partially.

“We can’t reassure you or fix ridiculous notions if you don’t tell us.”

She laughed darkly, pushing my hand away from her face, and turning her head. “That’s part of the problem. They’re ridiculous to you.” I wrenched her head back to face me.

“Don’t look away from me.” I snarled, holding her even when she flinched. “They are ridiculous, even if you believe them. We weren’t better off without you. You’re a wonderful part of us, part of us we didn’t know was there. Just like we’re a part of you. You belong with us.” I emphasized. “Come to us when you feel this way. Let us fix it.”

“There isn’t anything to fix.” Her eyes kept steady on mine, although I could see her temptation to look away.

“Then tell me exactly what’s been running through your head.” She swallowed harshly. “You either know it’s wrong, or you’re scared to bring it up.” Her eyes gave it away. Both.

“Can we talk about this later?” She pleaded, breaking eye contact, her bottom lip quivering.

“Look at me.” I gritted my teeth, and she did. The vulnerability in her eyes made me sigh. “Promise you’ll actually talk about it.”

I watched her hesitate, but she did promise.

Falling asleep was uncomfortable. There was a tension drifting between the three of us, but I didn’t feel like talking about it yet, and they respected that. Barely, I could see both of them aching to have the conversation - to get it out of the way, but I needed time to gather my thoughts. A night to sleep on it.

Eventually we did drift off to sleep.

“Leave.” Rowan said harshly, his face set in a nasty look. One I’d only seen him give to people who were rude to Aelin or I. What did I do?

“Leave.” Aelin repeated his words with that same look. It was unnatural, it wasn’t them.

“But-”

“Now.” He growled, taking a menacing step towards me.

Another voice came from behind me. “I lied, they were better without you.” I whirled around. Fenrys. The look, they all had the same one.

“I can be better.” I stuttered through the words.

“You don’t get it.” Aelin laughed harshly. “We don’t want you.”

Rowan shoved me through the gates, just a bag in my hands. “Step foot in Terrasen again, and you’re dead.”

They slammed shut in front of me.

“No, no, no, no.” I whispered, tears running down my face, my entire body shaking.

“Y/N.” A disembodied voice said, repeatedly.

“It’s a dream.” My eyes flew open, I felt magic flooding around me. A hand rubbed my back. “Breathe, breathe darling.” Aelin’s voice, but I couldn’t see her. A dream, it was a nightmare.

I heard Rowan, his voice strained. “Bring your magic back in. Call it back to you.”

I did, and it came back joyfully, swirling against the shield of wind holding it in, with teasing pokes, before flying back into me, and the room was encased in moonlight.

“Gods, I’m sorry.” I sighed. “Please, don’t be. I’ve burned several bed sheets before.” Her voice was light, a smile on her face. “Besides, your magic isn’t scary, it’s quite beautiful actually.” I could feel her magic bubbling, wanting out to play, mine reacted in kind.

“Tomorrow.” Rowan said, and we turned in sync to glare at him. The serious look on his face remained, and Aelin huffed before tugging me into her arms - pointedly leaving him out.

#rowaelin x reader #throne of glass fic #rowaelin x y/n #poly!rowaelin #poly!rowaelin x y/n #poly!rowaelin x reader #aelin galathynius x y/n #aelin galathynius x reader #aelin x y/n #aelin x reader #rowan whitethorn x reader #rowan whitethorn x y/n #angst

337 notes · View notes

ladzwriting · 6 months

Text

THE FEALTY OF MONSTERS - March 12, 2024

AKA the work formerly known as AquaShame. Illustrated by @t-hornapple, this is the Slavic vampire political fantasy gothic horror of my dreams and your nightmares

Volume 1 comes out on 🫀 MARCH 12, 2024 🦟

Final cover reveal on JANUARY 22, 2024

Preorder:

Itch (signed copies pre-order, US & International): https://ladzwriting.itch.io/the-fealty-of-monsters-vol-1 (you can also download the Prologue as a preview)

eBook: https://books2read.com/TheFealtyofMonstersVol1

Add to GR: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/201742983-the-fealty-of-monsters

Add to The Storygraph: https://app.thestorygraph.com/books/3c23d390-61eb-43fa-bb5c-5ea764bacdab

If you like:

🫀 Baru Cormorant 🦟 Villain protagonists 🫀 Age gap yaoi 🦟 Leige/advisor yuri 🫀 Monstrous vampires 🦟 Eat the rich (literally) 🫀 Gormenghast 🦟 Political fantasy 🫀 Killing hundreds to save thousands 🦟 Not romance, not erotica, but high heat horror

As far as the art goes, if you're a fan of these pieces by Häxan, you're in for some delights:

🌚 Yharnam 🌚 Excalibur 🌚 in ecclesia (in church) 🌚 moonbeams*

*Featured in white noise: https://t-hornapple.itch.io/white-noise

Also please read THE LORD OF ASTIIGOS: https://t-hornapple.itch.io/the-lord-of-astiigos-complete-part-1

THE FEALTY OF MONSTERS is more intense than most things I have available now, except THE LADY OF THE LAIR

ARC requests will open in January with the final cover reveal

I'm so excited to share this with you all

🫀 https://thefealtyofmonsters.carrd.co/ 🦟

#authors of tumblr #fantasy books #queer books #high heat #gothic horror #political fantasy #eroguro #horror #magic #books #queer #vampire #Slavic fantasy #trans art #trans books #spicy horror #adult books #vodkapunk

145 notes · View notes

nerdieforpedro · 2 months

Text

The Lake Between Us - Part Two

The Solitary Captain’s Circumstances

Ezra AU x plus size OFC (Nickname Moonbeam - has a name in later parts)

This fic is for those 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 945

Warnings: crime, heist, police involved shooting, death, Ezra being cute also disturbed, anxiety, PTSD, alcohol, fire, nightmares, voyeurism,

Notes: We’re continuing to introduce our lovely pair. It’s Ezra side of things. How he got to where he is now and what he may be dealing with. My bad Ezra, he is a very haunted pookie. I left him his other arm so something had to go. 👀 I might be a tad deranged.

Main Masterlist/ Ezra Masterlist/ The Lake Between Us Series

Ezra used to be able to sleep anywhere. It was a necessity of maybe having a life that was outside of the conventions of society. He needed adequate rest to be able to plan, scheme and think. That period of his life is over, he’s had his large paydays and invested the money in his home, his airboat which he does some tours occasionally and in his charge Cee. She was an unforeseen variable at the end of a heist fifteen years ago with her father Damon. The dim-witted sod hadn’t fully grasped the escape plan that was gone over thrice in detail leading to him being on the wrong end of the police’s overzealous shooting. The man’s light was snuffed out in a violent instant.

His death allowed for the crew’s escape and for them to sort out which of their band of scoundrels would care for a wee human of four years old. Arguments ensued so Ezra suggested a completely diplomatic and fair way would be to draw straws. “The smallest straw gets the short stack.” He recalled stating. He always overestimated his luck in these situations and had the shortest straw. Since he had proposed the idea, he couldn’t back out. Thus began his journey with the child Cee.

Things were tenuous at first but they worked out she’s to call him ‘Uncle’ or Mr. Ezra. It worked better in social situations and she became his little ‘Birdie.’ Scaling down the jobs he took on to mitigate risk was a challenge and were worth less but he had to live not only for himself now. The pair moved around some before he enrolled her in school in Louisiana but ensured that he taught her when she came home in the evenings and on the weekends. The child hated the extra lesions, but it enabled her to be leagues ahead of her peers as far as studies went. Ezra was determined not to suffer another fool and would do what he could so that Cee wouldn’t follow in her father’s steps of idiocy. The results of his care, diligence and support was realized at both her high school graduation which he had never imagined attending anyone’s graduation except his own and to travel with his charge to see the college she’d chosen.

Cee was away studying at Columbia University as she’d gotten a full scholarship with room and board on her own merits. Ezra did not have much to hang any pride on as he viewed it a way to a quick death but he couldn’t help but feel well pleased that he’d had some part in her success.

His charge would write and call, which he’d accept, not letting on how happy he was that she’d call. On the last break, Cee visited with her girlfriend Zora and they stayed at his home. The young woman he’d raised expressed concern about the circles under his eyes and his unfocused eyes. Ezra denied her claims stating, “I am fine my sweet Bird. It’s something you’ll encounter when you reach the privilege of middle age Birdie. This weariness of life. I will find my way through it and gallop to the other side.” She shook her head and laughed him off as the three spent time together and Ezra drove them to the airport. It was rare that they embraced but it felt appropriate as he knew it would be a while yet before he saw his little Bird again.

It was roughly a month ago that he first saw the striking vision that was across his lake.

He’s come out to his porch after spraying on some bug repellent. He brought out his whiskey and glass. He had closed his eyes and was confronted with the scars that remained on his soul. He’d long thought that he rationalized them away. It was part of the life he once lived but not now. The still eyes and distorted features that he saw through the fire… “Dammit to hell. The shit’s still there. It was for a reason, there were reasons behind all of it, why must I recall that now?” His fingers massaged his temple as he poured his first glass of the night. He quickly swallowed the alcoholic elixir and peered up at the moon. It was full tonight and dancing across the small waves on the lake’s surface.

A moonbeam. It’s the first thing he thought of when he saw her. She was wearing a white nightgown - if he had to guess cotton with a thin robe about her shoulders that she decided to slip off. That’s a good choice, it’s a bit warm out tonight. Her hair is under a purple bonnet which she removes as well and sets it on top of the robe, both are on the back of her rocking chair. Black voluminous hair fell around her shoulders, it looked pillowy to the touch like the rest of its owner. Her substantial legs carried her to a small table beside her where she lit a candle. The minimal light makes her face glow. He can make out full lips, round cheeks and bright eyes behind her glasses. She eases down into her rocking chair and pours herself a brown liquid that looks similar to his and orange juice maybe? Well she could be one for mixed drinks. He wonders why she would be up at this ungodly hour drinking? She couldn’t have similar demons to him could she? Maybe some unknown or known fears? Could she be separating herself from someone inside the home?

Ezra is left with many questions and no answers. This does not please him.

Part One Part Three

Taste-testers of Ezra’s gumbo 🍤: @rav3n-pascal22 @maggiemayhemnj @morallyinept @survivingandenduring @bonezone44 @magpiepillsjunior @yorksgirl @gemmahale @missredherring @missladym1981 @alltheglitterandtheroar @megamindsecretlair @readingiskeepingmegoing @pedroshotwifey @tinytinymenace @inept-the-magnificent @vivian-pascal

#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #ezra prospect #ezra #prospect #the lake between us #Ezra x plus size ofc #ezra x ofc #A Nerdie fic

42 notes · View notes

fairy-verse · 5 months

Note

Nightmare you look like a moon fairy ☺️

Killer: “Moonlight~”

Nightmare: …

Killer: “Moonbeam~?”

Nightmare: …

Killer: “Mooooonshiiiiine~”

Nightmare: Sigh. “What?”

Killer: “Are you a full moon? Because I am feeling a tidal pull towards your heavenly body.”

Nightmare: “Ugh.”

Killer: Chuckles.

…

Killer: “I love you, my moonlight.”

Nightmare: …

Nightmare: Leans over to tenderly kiss Killer’s forehead. “You’re hopeless.”

Killer: “Hopelessly devoted to you, my beautiful Queen.”

#aufairyverse #utmv #ask for the fairy #fairy!nightmare #nightmare sans #fairy!killer #killer sans #no i didn't have to google moon related pick up lines because obviously i'm smart enough to come up with them myself #[lies]

110 notes · View notes

the-desilittle-bird · 1 year

Text

Author's Note- Since a lot of people wanted Part 2 of Realm's Desire, here it is. Also, I am imagining Jai Courtney as Cregan Stark. You can add yourself in the tag list by either filling up the tag list form or my messaging me. Hope you enjoy it.

Honour of our House

Daemon Targaryen x Sister!Reader

Part 1 ☆ Part 2 ☆ Part 3

Tag list - @minaxcarter, @eliseline, @Blackhoodlea, @little-moonbeam-666, @neenieweenie, @omgsuperstarg, @avalyaaa, @shopping, @bbgmonsay, @michelle-26, @krokietinio

Warning- Angst-y, Arranged Marriage, Mentions of Parents Death, Daemon (you will know why), Curse Words, Typical Westrosi stuff

GIF credits to @pistil-whipped

Summary- It is the day when Realm's Desire is to marry Cregan Stark of North and everyone are celebrating, except two. The bride herself and his brother, the Rogue Prince.

The ivory dress clinched to (Y/N)'s waist perfectly. All the ladies giggled around (Y/N) who kept a solemn face despite the gossips of the court. Her makeup was done to perfection, so was her hair. Jewelry made of silver adorned her, showing off the riches of House Targaryen.

If only she wasn't a Targaryen but a noble lady of any other house. Then perhaps, she and Daemon could be one body and one soul. Then perhaps, everyone shall accept them with open arms.

(Y/N) didn't notice the opening of her chamber's door, her ladies leaving silently. She only came out of her thinking when she was left alone with Daemon.

"Don't you look beautiful, sister," he said bitterly, eyeing her up and down. "Why are you here?" She asked in a monotone, standing up from her vanity, her eyes fixed at her own reflection in the mirror.

Indeed, she looked beautiful, but she felt nothing like that. She felt as if someone had took her heart away and crushed it in front of her own eyes. She felt as if her soul was sucked out of her, leaving behind nothing but an empty shell of a person she was.

"Don't act as if you are the only one hurting, (Y/N)," Daemon hissed, placing down the cloak of protection. The cloak was black with a three headed dragon. Their sigil. "Well, it seems that is true," (Y/N) sneered.

Turning around, she stared at her brother who once was her safe place. "Where have you been since the last moon? Fucking whores, drinking?" (Y/N) asked as she neared him. "I wanted someone to comfort me, Daemon. And I wished that someone was you, but why would you care?"

Her words were like a dagger to his heart. He had wanted to be there for her but he was so busy dealing with his own anger. Anger towards himself.

"I had to smile back as everyone congratulated me, wished me a better future when I didn't want that. And you weren't there," (Y/N)'s voice became quiet with each other until they were nothing but forced whispers.

Daemon took her face in his hands, caressing her cheeks. "I apologize, my love," he whispered softly. (Y/N) shook her head, tears leaving her eyes as sobs left her throat. Daemon caught her as her knees gave up, both of them kneeling on the floor.

"I don't wish to marry him, Daemon," (Y/N) sobbed, gripping Daemon's black tunic. "I know, (Y/N)," Daemon whispered, placing his lips on her hairline. His own vision seemed to blur with tears.

A knock startled the couple as they both turned to the door. "My princess, it is time," the soft voice of (Y/N)'s lady in waiting said. (Y/N) sniffed silently, standing up with heavy feet. Daemon stood up as well, taking in his sister.

(Y/N) forcefully wiped away her tears, walking to the mirror. She looked like a dream come true except for her eyes. Puffed and red, they looked as if they had seen years of nightmare in them.

"I guess," (Y/N) sighed, moving to stand in front of Daemon, forcing a smile on her face. "This is it for us. But thank you, Daemon, for everything," she said, placing her hands in his calloused one.

"Let's run away," he said, making her look up. "I have a duty to the crown, my prince. And duty is the death of love," she whispered, pressing her lips to his- for the last time.

Daemon pulled away with a ragged breath. Placing the cloak of protection, he grabbed her by her hand, keeping them close. "Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger," they whispered. "I am his and he is mine," "I am hers and she is mine."

"From this day until the end of my days." A kiss sealed their fate as they separated. Daemon extended his elbow to her, guiding her to the door of the Throne Room where Viserys stood.

"You look absolutely gorgeous, my dear sister," Viserys smiled as he took in the marvelous view. (Y/N) smiled, dipping down in curtsey. "This would be it, Daemon. I recommend you to go and get in your place inside, it's a bit crowded in there," Viserys said, gesturing towards the door.

Daemon nodded, letting her go. The gears in his head working as he thoughtfully went inside the room. (Y/N) fiddled with her fingers nervously, eyes casted downwards. "Missing mother and father?" Viserys asked softly.

(Y/N) looked up, nodding as she looked around. "Mother would have standed in this place just like i am, right?" Viserys looked at his younger sister with a small, pitying smile. He knew it must be scary for her.

"Yes, and she was brave to face it. Just like you are," Viserys said. "She married her own brother. It might not have been this problematic for her," (Y/N) replied, taking a deep breath.

Viserys glanced at her, his eyes scanning her up and down. He could see the little girl who grieved their parents when they died. The girl who tried to sought peace in her eldest brother's presence but never got it. The girl who would clinch to her brother and ask him to teach how to yield a sword.

"It is time, darling," Viserys said softly, extending his arm formally. "I wished it was Daemon," (Y/N) whispered, making Viserys glance back in surprise as the doors to the throne room opened.

Viserys and (Y/N) started to walk down the aisle. Viserys glanced towards Daemon who looked straight at the wall, not caring to look at him and their sister. That's when he realized what (Y/N) meant. She wished it was Daemon instead of Cregan.

(Y/N) locked eyes with Cregan Stark. His grey eyes cold as usual but (Y/N) wondered if her own eyes looked as cold as his. All (Y/N) wished was to run away on (D/N), away from everyone and take Daemon with her. Him on Caraxes and her on (D/N), flying over the seas just as they have always dreamed of.

As soon as she stands next to Cregan, she sees herself as a lot of ladies see themselves. Nothing but a token of power, given to someone to hold an alliance strong. That very moment, death felt better than life.

The Sept speaks the customary things which (Y/N) couldn't focus on. Her mind drifted to her time growing up in this castle. The faintest memories of her mother and father resurfacing. Daemon and (Y/N) always used to snuggle into their mother, listening to her stories. (Y/N) remembered a few times when her father would teach Viserys and Daemon to yield a sword and she would look from the balcony with her mother.

"You may now bring the bride under your protection."

That was when (Y/N) actually paid attention to the ceremony. She felt the cloak of her house slipped away from her shoulders. The Dragon was thrown to the wolves. She turned around, granting her soon-to-be husband permission to cloak her.

(Y/N) caught a brief glance of Daemon. His face stoic, eyes cold, fists clinched. He seemed to be in deep thoughts. It only broke (Y/N)'s heart even more, she knew how it felt to watch someone you love wed someone else. There was a time where she stood in his place.

She felt a light tap on her shoulder. She turned around, now cloaked with the cloak of House Stark of Winterfell. Cregan nodded encouragingly towards (Y/N), making her fell more guilty than ever.

"Stop!"

Everyone turned to look at Daemon, who looked in rage. "Daemon, what is this?" Viserys asked quietly, the cloak of House Targaryen wrapped on his forearm. Daemon scoffed loudly, rolling his eyes.

"I do not approve of this marriage," Daemon announced. Ladies gasped and the crowd started whispering. "This is not the time for this, Daemon," Viserys warned, looking apologetically at Cregan.

"Lord Stark, I apologize for-" Before Viserys could complete his apology, Daemon interrupted him with "Lord Stark." Daemon stepped up the stairs, moving stand directly in front of Cregan.

"I hope you are aware of the disrespect you are causing my house as well as yours along with your wife's house," Cregan said calmly. Daemon glanced to a bewildered (Y/N).

"I, Prince Daemon of House Targaryen, challenge you for the hand of Princess (Y/N)."

Author's Note- So, this was Part 2 and let me know if you want me to continue this in a Part 3 as well. And also, let me know who do you think the Realm's Desire should end up with.

428 notes · View notes

dadmareau · 6 months

Note

What does Dream call Nightmare?-

For Dadmare: At the last stage, "Daddy" (preferred) or "Dad" (quicker and more 'mature'-sounding), though at some point it was "Father" and before that, "Mister Mare." Nightmare constantly protests being called "dad" but Dream will never stop.

For Moonbeam: "Nighty" and "Big brother."

#inbox #Anonymous #dadmare #sunbeam #worldbuilding #modmare answers #moonbeam #every time sunbeam goes 'daddy?' i think of that one vine #dadmare: 'do i LOOK LIKE-'#and the answer is always yes. yes you do #look at your walls (plastered with drawings from dream) and tell me u are not a proud father #yall i can't wait to write the goofy family shenanigans #i need them to progress FASTER. sunbeam please work your magic #later on moonbeam becomes very clingy to both of them and it causes some issues where sunbeam gets jealous of dadmare over his brother #which is just so ironic to me #but it's ok. because sunbeam also likes dadmare and he has two hands

112 notes · View notes

bettyfrommars · 6 months

Text

The Nightmare Factory

an Eddie Munson x Reader series

The Fabric of Moonbeams

Masterlist

18+Only for mature themes, mention of sleep disorders and sleeping medication, longing, afab!reader, astral travel, horror icons. wc: 4.2.

a/n: there are some mind-bending moments in here, along with typical nightmare!eddie silliness. I initially thought I'd just write a very simple blurb series about the different ways Eddie appeared to reader to try and scare them. Now that this romance is starting to flesh out, I feel like we have much more to explore, so this will not end on Halloween, as I had originally planned. I have a very cool apocalyptic dream planned for the next chapter, where reader and Eddie spend a few days together (enemies to lovers because reader does not recognize him at first), but I wanted this to be something fun for spooky season.

Eddie got demoted to Ominous Thuds & Ghostly Whispers status after the whole Headless Horseman debacle. Not because Steve or Saul narced on him, but because the eye in the nightmare sky sees everything.

He tried tapping the morse code that Wayne taught him on your bedroom wall one night, but only succeeded in making you sleep upright in the chair in your living room with all of the lights on. You had dark circles under your eyes the next day, and almost dozed off at your keyboard.

You spent a lot of time looking at the sketch you had done of him, and the description of the headless horseman dream that you remembered with fascinating clarity. You could close your eyes and smell the soap and leather of his skin now, and you could see the way his mouth moved when he spoke to you. He knew your name, and you felt like you knew him.

You found a book at the library called, “My boyfriend, My Nightmare” about a woman who believed she was in a relationship with a man in her dreams for years. No one believed her, of course, and she was diagnosed with a particular type of rare disorder that had her on such heavy sleeping medication that it was impossible to remember her dreams, if she even had them at all.

You sank down on a soft chair and almost read the entire thing in one sitting. According to this woman, there is a place called The Nightmare Factory where your nightmares punch a clock and take lunch breaks together and collect a paycheck. Apparently, it sits on a separate plane of existence, and you go there when you sleep. Nightmares can exist during waking hours as well, the author said, and you sat up straight to read that paragraph.

“The membrane that keeps our worlds apart begins to dissolve when you are able to perceive the nightmares, when you begin to understand that there is no true distinction between reality and dreams.”

“If you can imagine it, it exists somewhere in possibility,” the author continued. “The Nightmare Factory workers are a form of entertainment to save us from the true horrors of human existence.”

What ever happened to the woman? Did she ever get to be with the man she fell in love with in her nightmares? You skipped to the last chapter, and skimmed a few pages until you found what you were looking for.

Her final words were very vague, but she admitted to going off of her prescribed sleeping medication, which made her have insomnia for a week, but then she started to dream again.

“I know that no one will believe me, and that’s fine, I did not write this to convince anyone. I’m having it published through a private company to help those who might find themselves in a similar situation.

By the time you read this, I will be gone.

The physical particles of my body have a hard time assimilating when I return from dreams now, and one day soon, I will stay there with him and not return through the secret door. I’m not sure if I will ever be able to get back to this astral plane as anything more than a visitor, so please, if you are able to cross over, find me.”

You checked the clock on the wall, knowing you should head home, and then you found a few more books to take with you. One was a manual on how to decipher your dreams, and the other was another memoir, though not as detailed, that someone had written about moving through the dream world with your physical body.

That’s impossible, you mused to yourself.

But still, some strange blossom of hope in your gut moved you to tuck it under your arm.

Meanwhile, Eddie flirted his way into the 7am Unexplained Voices & Creaking Stairs class by offering to service the teacher’s car for free. She was a ghostly apparition who wore glasses and a pair of gloves to give students a hint to her presence. She finally accepted after some hesitation, knowing full well that there was a waitlist.

Anyway, her ghostmobile was not only serviced, but detailed, and there Eddie was, in the front row, bouncing his knee, eager to learn anything and everything he could.

His band played a show at the Hideout that night. The Hideout in Eddie’s dimension was a place where a lot of Nightmare Factory workers went after their shifts, so it often looked like the bar scene from Star Wars, but with ghouls. The factory was the biggest employer for a thirty mile radius, and everyone who grew up in Hawkinsville had worked there at least once in their life.

It had been difficult when Eddie and Wayne first moved there when he was young. Eddie was what they called “a normie”, meaning he was not born into the nightmare life. He hadn’t been raised by evil clowns or wolves or demons who walked on goat legs. He’d picked up shapeshifting pretty fast though, and he’d learned to make his eyes go completely black whenever he wanted to by the time he was ten.

There were more than four drunks at the place that night, Eddie counted at least six, and then there were a few normies at a table, but he didn’t recognize them. The bartender had a beer ready for him and slid it to the end of the bar before giving him a “thumbs up” motion. Corroded Coffin did not get paid by the venue to play on Tuesday nights, so the beer was always on the house. They had a tip jar at the edge of the stage that usually only had a couple bucks in it by the end of the evening, or a sprinkle of loose change.

They were halfway through the set when Eddie looked out into the crowd and saw you.

He blinked hard, squeezing his eyes shut for a beat, but when he opened them again, he saw that it was really you—standing there, staring back at him, plain as day.

Sure, the room was dark and filled with smoke, but there seemed to be some type of luminescence around you.

Eddie cleared his throat into the mic and wiped his hair off his sweaty forehead, waiting to make sure to make sure you weren’t a mirage for the thirsty man that he was. Some shrill feedback sounded through the speakers, and he mumbled an apology to the crowd.

You lifted your hand up slowly to wave at him, and you mouthed a little, “hi,” as a smile twitched across your lips.

But this time, it was Eddie who woke up.

He was back in his own bed, gasping for air, wanting to cry, wanting to return, needing to know how you had made it into his dream.

You were looking for him now. Somewhere, behind the scenes of time and space, an invisible membrane was getting thinner.

—------

“Are you coming or what?” Your friend Ellie turned to see that you had stopped short at the entrance to the Haunted House attraction you were about to enter. You’d already paid, and had your hand stamped, but all of a sudden you wanted to be back in your bed, reading.

You loved Halloween, but you weren’t a huge fan of jump scares, unless they were coming from that guy you kept dreaming about, the one named Eddie.

You wrote his name down in cursive and blocked letters all over the inside of your notebook, wanting to press it into the wrinkles of your brain. It had been weeks since you last saw him, and every night you hit the pillow, you were hopeful.

“I’m coming,” you jogged a bit to catch up, listening to the evil, mechanical cackling and high-pitched screams coming from inside.

You caught up to her and stayed close. There were strobe lights inside and menacing figures loomed in the narrow hallway before you turned a corner into a dining room full of people with decapitated heads. A few scare actors jumped out to lurch at you from dark corners while thunderous organ music played.

After the next room, there was a shuffle of people as one of the animatronic spiders dropped down from the ceiling, and one of the scare actors with a pig mask blocked your path right when the hallway split, so you lost Ellie, and all of a sudden, you were alone.

You spun in a circle and called Ellie’s name.

Surely you’d still be able to hear the sounds from the haunt? But everything was quiet, the crowd was gone, and the noises from earlier were muffled, as if coming from far away.

Panic rose in your throat as you felt along the wall for a light switch or a door. You stumbled around a black, velvet curtain and caught sight of the glowing EXIT sign with a rush of relief.

“Ellie? Anybody?” You eyes were having a hard time adjusting to the inky darkness, but the illumination from the sign gave you hope

This was fine, you’d wait for the other’s outside and tell them you had to duck out because you weren’t feeling well, which was not a complete lie.

Beyond the door were aged, wooden stairs that went down. A single light bulb dangled from the ceiling to offer a weak, ocre glow. You didn’t remember climbing stairs to get into the building, but you must’ve been mistaken.

You hurried down the steps, hearing the door slam shut behind you with unexpected force, enough to shake the walls.

Something didn’t feel right; the further you went down on the creaking steps, the darker and danker it seemed to get. There was a sudden heat emanating and you could make out some soft rattling and hissing sounds.

By the time you realized you’d gone down into a sealed basement, it was too late.

It wasn’t just a basement, though—it was a…boiler room?

There were metal tanks producing steam mounted with temperature gauges, and you couldn’t see to the other side of the space because they were massive.

“Hello?” You took a tentative step forward, looking around the concrete walls for some type of door to get out of the building. Your heart was in your throat, and your breathing was getting rapid as your eyes jerked from side to side like a scared rabbit.

You wrapped your arms around yourself. “Can anyone hear me? I got turned around and I’d like to leave now.”

There came a high pitched scraping then, like nails on a chalkboard, and it was so shrill, you had to cover your ears.

“I can hear you just fine,” a deep, gravely voice chuckled from somewhere to your right.

Your attention snapped in that direction. Instinct was telling you to start backing up, to get further away, to go bolt up the stairs, but that’s not what you did—you just froze there.

It wasn’t long before you spotted a pair of glowing eyes peering at you from between two of the pipes, against the far wall.

There was a person standing there.

It had to be one of the scare actors, down there on their break, or maybe this was a part of the haunt? But where was everyone else? And why was there a huge, poorly lit boiler room in the basement of that old house?

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he spoke in an evil sneer, like a villain in a cartoon.

“This isn’t funny,” you shouted. “I just want to get out of here, please.”

He gave another diabolical cackle, and then there was the sound of nails on a chalkboard again.

The man in the basement with you stepped into view with a flourish, brandishing the long, metal daggers on his hand, flexing each finger for you to see each one individually; the tips were sharp and the blades caught the light. He had on an old, brown fedora, a green and red sweater, and his skin was covered in scar tissue from severe burns.

You were down in that boiler room with Freddy Krueger.

The scream you let out as he charged toward you might’ve cracked fissures in the concrete.

You spun on your heel—

—and landed face first into the body of the person that had been standing behind you. You felt the ragged, torn nature of a shirt under your cheek as whoever it was had enormous height, and then you pushed back and looked up in time to see a hockey mask with black eyes staring down at you, expressionless. His shoulders were broad and his body massive. Out to the side, he brandished a gleaming machete that was the length of your arm.

“Hi baby, get behind me!” The person in the Jason Voorhees mask said, sounding slightly echoed and muffled. The look he had was the same as in the movies, but this one had curly, almost frizzy dark hair that was long past his shoulders.

That voice…it was Eddie.

It was your Eddie.

You stammered a partial question, but then you were already moving, letting his arm guide you around so that his body acted as a shield from Freddy who was cackling and swiping his finger knives around; you could hear the sharp whistle of air against the metal.

You held on to the hips of Voorhees Eddie from behind and peeked under his raised arm to look at Freddy. This Eddie in front of you was tall and massive, much more so than you remembered from the last dream you had.

“What the hell are you doing here, maggot?” The Freddy Krueger guy growled, saliva dripping from his yellow teeth as his pocked skin stretched over his cheeks like curdled milk.

“Don’t worry about it, Jerry,” Eddie growled with disdain, throwing his machete into the other hand with deft precision. It twirled in the air and he caught it by the handle. “This one is mine.”

“Oh, really?” The guy who looked like Freddy suddenly had a normal voice again, and his shoulders relaxed, dropping his hands to his sides. “I didn’t know, wow man, I’m sorry. Did I get the schedules mixed up?”

Voorhees Eddie relaxed too, dropping his free hand down to hold your hip, making sure you were still there. “No, you’re good,” Eddie’s voice was light now, soft, even. “I’m just filling in for Alex, he’s on vacation for a few days.”

“Paid leave?” Freddy/Jerry asked. You were trying to match his face with the voice coming out, but it wasn’t working.

“I think so,” Eddie nodded once.

“Must be nice to have seniority,” Jerry put his knives hand on his hip and scratched under his hat with the other. “Okay well, I’m going to head over to the next job. See ya, Munson.”

And with that, a black space the size of a door opened behind Jerry and he stepped through it. The door disappeared, and so did he.

“Eddie?” You said his name over the hiss of the boilers as he turned to you. You could see the realistically gray, rotting flesh of his Voorhees skin under his mask. “What are you doing in a boiler room looking like Jason Voorhees?”

“Workin’,” he smiled and dropped the machete to the concrete with a clang to be able to snake his arms around you so that his fingers clasped at your lower back. “I’ve been missing you.”

His new height was throwing you off as you tilted your head back to look up at him.

“I recognized your voice this time,” you smiled, proud of yourself.

He lowered his head to touch the mask to your forehead. “I didn’t mean to disappear on you. It took me a while to be able to have physical form again, to be able to see you like this.”

“It’s okay, I know,” you slid your hands up the torn clothing over his broad chest.

“You know?” He pulled back, searching your face.

“I’ve been reading this book, about where you work,” you wet your lips. “That Nightmare Factory place. I’ve been trying to figure out…how to see you more often.”

Eddie’s heart jumped. He put his hand over yours on his chest and held it there, and you could see that even as Jason Voorhees, he still wore his signature metal rings. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course,” you got a bit bashful and looked down. “I want to…get to know you better.”

“I saw you the other night in my dream,” he rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand.

You stared up into his eye sockets of his mask, and your face lit up. “That was cool, wasn’t it? I couldn’t believe I found you. There is a sort of meditation in the book that I did about a thousand times, and it was only for a second. I think it’s a type of astral projection. You looked really good on stage.”

Eddie tucked his chin almost bashfully, moving his hand to interlace his fingers with yours. “You thought I looked good?”

Eddie had been learning too. Learning new skills to come to you in your nightmares, but also learning about a rare case where a nightmare worker crossed into your dimension and stayed there. They were never heard from again, and some say they didn’t survive the crossover and their particles exploded into the ether, but Eddie chose to believe that was a lie to keep people from trying.

Suddenly, there was a banging sound, muffled and far away, but you could feel it thudding in your chest. You checked around the room, thinking it was noise from one of the pipes, but Eddie dropped your hand and squeezed your arm, checking his digital wrist watch with a sigh like he usually did when he was about to make his exit.

Back at the factory, someone was banging their fist against the transportation door, shouting for Eddie. He tightened the muscles in his jaw, frustrated that there never seemed to be enough time. It sounded a whole lot like Kevin.

He had to figure something out soon, before his heart exploded.

“Are you in trouble again?” Now that you knew a bit more about what he did, you feared he might get penalized, and you wouldn’t lay eyes on him for another month. The pounding continued intermittedly, and you faintly heard someone call out Eddie’s name.

“No, not this time, sweetheart,” Eddie stretched, puffing his chest out a bit, and then bent forward to put the mouth of the mask on your forehead. You could feel his warm breath on your skin there. “But my shift is over. I have to get back before my timer goes off.”

“Before your timer goes off? Sounds like you’re in a microwave.”

“Well,” he tipped his head to the side, thoughtfully. “The technology is similar, I suppose, but yeah, I hate to leave you like this.”

You hugged Eddie Voorhees as hard as you could and spoke into his chest. “Maybe next time, I’ll find you first.”

The distant banging got louder, more persistent.

He bent down to grab the machete, pushed a button on his watch, and the same square, black opening in the air appeared.

There was a second there when you considered just running and jumping through his door, but then you remembered a part in the book when it mentioned how that type of jarring dimensional travel could give Dreamers what scuba divers called “the bends” from the dramatic change in pressure.

You were about to tell him you’d miss him, or goodbye, or something else, but then, in a blink, you were jolted back to your senses—

—you were back in the hallway of the haunt right after the spider had dropped from the ceiling.

Wait a minute. How had that happened?

You were at a dead halt, stopping the flow of people traffic as you looked down at your hands and over at Ellie who had turned around to motion you to keep moving as another scare actor dressed like a deranged doctor covered in blood jumped from the corner.

When you got home, you rushed to your desk to open the book, and flipped to the chapter called “The fabric of moonbeams”. It talked about “dream pockets” that occurred like daydreams when you were linked to someone. The author didn’t know exactly how to explain it, but she suspected it had something to do with sudden surges of adrenaline that caused a dimensional shift, especially if you had a connection to someone at the factory.

You sketched out Eddie again that night, this time, it was what you remembered from when you’d visited him for a few seconds at The Hideout. Flanked by his bandmates, he was strumming the strings on his guitar, looking down with one knee bent out and his hair hanging down.

You wanted to recapture the scene as realistically as possible so that you could study it to prepare for the next time you tried to visit him. Next time, maybe you'd step into his world and not his dream.

Maybe next time, he’d kiss you again.

----

Happy Halloween weekend to all of you who are enjoying this series, thank you for reading 🧡

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson series #The Nightmare Factory #nightmare!eddie #Halloween fic #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie x afab reader #Eddie munson x reader

221 notes · View notes

profound-imagination · 1 year

Text

Broken Promises - Fenrys Moonbeam

A/N: I thought I'd try something different and write for the TOG characters! There's not enough fics on here about them and Fenrys is my favourite lil wolf boy ❤️ This could definitely have a part 2 if people want it! I hope you like it!❤️

W/C: 2.8K

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The last place you thought you'd be was chasing ghosts with three fae males and another human girl, but here you were. All for that insufferable wolf. The one you couldn't shake from the moment you'd met him in Skull's Bay. Not to mention the young Queen of Terrasen who Rowan Whitethorn would hunt to the ends of the earth for, the four of you in tow.

It had been the most exhausting two months of your life, how Elide coped you didn't know, Gavriel's kindness in using his magic to brace her ankle was only a small part of it you were sure. How Rowan endured the empty mating bond was again a mystery. The other mystery that haunted you was why you so desperately needed to go with them, why you needed the wolf to be safe. He'd made his choices, he'd sworn himself to Maeve, he'd done this to himself and he'd broken his promises to you and he'd broken you in the process, but still you went.

Sea air caressed your face as you sat on deck watching the sun disappear in the horizon. You sensed him seconds before he sat next to you and drawled, "Mind if I join you?" You met his onyx eyes, "It appears you already have, Lord Fenrys." He snorted at that. "Just Fenrys, I'm no Lord." You smiled at him slightly and looked back out to the water, "How did you come to be such a close companion of the King?" He asked, looking over his shoulder at Dorian.

"Our mothers are friends, we are close in age so growing up, Dorian would be running around causing chaos, Chaol running behind him trying to fix whatever Dorian broke and I'd be behind both of them, just wanting to be involved." Fenrys chuckled, "I can picture that, the three of you being nightmares." You smiled as a memory hit, "Once, when we were 7, a boy from a visiting noble family pushed me over in the courtyard and poured his juice all over me because I wanted to play with them. He told me I was to be a Lady not a Knight and therefore I couldn't play Knights with them, when I refused he pushed me as hard as he could then poured his juice all over my new dress, I still have the scar on my knee. Dorian punched him so hard his nose broke and demanded he apologise and replace my dress. We were both screaming so loud our mothers thought we were being attacked, when they found us Chaol and Dorian were holding me and telling me I could be anything I wanted to be, if I wanted to be a knight, Chaol would train me himself and Dorian would name me the Kings Knight." Fenrys laughed then, a proper laugh, loud enough that Dorian, Aelin and Rowan all peered over at the two of you from the conversation they'd been having. "And are you? The King's Knight?" He asked, you smiled again and shook your head, "No, that job was always Chaol's, I took a more subtle job, as a lady of the court, I always had information and I was always listening." He raised an eyebrow, "So she's a spy." You grinned, "Something like that."

A friendship had formed between the two of you after that, it wasn't exactly a secret that Gavriel and Fenrys were trusted very little by everyone on the ship but you, the two warriors had given you no reason not to trust them so you made them be your friends instead, Gavriel was full of kindness and sorrow, sorrow for the son that couldn't yet look at him let alone speak to him, instead he'd ask you questions about him so you told him what you knew of Aedion Ashryver, the Wolf of the North. Fenrys was full of mischief and witty comments, often using that strange place jumping power of his to scare the life out of you, but you couldn't deny you had started to grow a soft spot for both of them.

"Have you been to war?" You asked them one evening, watching the Wyvern who had landed on deck not long ago in wonder. "Many times." Gavriel confirmed. "Do we stand a chance at this one?" His eyes met yours. "Are you worried that you don't?" He asked gently. "I'm worried that I won't live long enough to find out. I've had some training, but it was mainly self defense, I don't know how to wield a sword or a bow." His eyebrows bunched but it was Fenrys who spoke, "You'll see the new world, Y/N, I'll train you the best I can, so will Gavriel and I won't leave your side when the time comes, nothing will happen to you." You met his eyes, staring at him as if you could see into his soul, "You promise?" Your voice sounding weaker than you intended it to. "I swear it." Deciding not to pull on that thread of a promise you asked, "Do you think he'll let me pet him?" Gavriel snorted a laugh but Fenrys had gone pale, "Do not touch the Wyvern, Y/N!" You grinned at him, "I'm not going to but I am going to ride a Wyvern before this war is over."

You'd known deep in your soul that it was an oath he couldn't keep, the blood oath he'd sworn would pull him away from you sooner or later. He'd tried his best though, to train you, to keep you safe.

The Stone Marshes was a despicable place, one that should've never been entered, yet here you were, panting on your back and gritting your teeth as Aedion prepared gods knew what for everyone to eat on your first night in them. "Again." Fenrys commanded as you pulled yourself from the ground, "If you can disarm me, you can disarm anyone." You gritted your teeth and stood your ground, preparing to strike again when Rowan called him away to start his watch, you'd take him his meal later you decided.

Dorian sidled up beside you, he'd been unusually quiet these past few days. "So…the wolf?" He questioned with a smirk and you felt your cheeks heat, "So…the witch?" You questioned back. His smirk turned feline. "Fair enough." You laughed at him. "There's nothing between us, he's training me, we're going to war, Dorian and Chaol isn't here to teach me." His face fell. "Why did you stay? In the castle with me?" He asked quietly, so you were doing this now then, the conversation that had yet to happen about why you'd stayed while he was enslaved by the collar. "Because Chaol couldn't." Dorian's eyes turned stormy, "Y/N-" You cut him off, "I didn't want you to be alone, Dorian. I didn't know if you were still in there, but if you were, I didn't want you to be alone." He smiled gently and took your hand, his movements tracked, you noticed, by the white haired witch across the fire and the White Wolf on the rocks above.

"I don't deserve the loyalty you and Chaol give me." You squeezed his hand and smiled at him gently, "We don't give it to you blindly, Dorian, we give it to you because we believe in you and the world you'll help create. I give it to you for the little boy who got in heaps of trouble for breaking a bullies nose for me when we were seven, I give it to you for rejecting any and all proposed marriage matches for me, for always making sure I have a choice, in every aspect of my life." He sighed, pulling you into his side, his movements still being tracked, "I feel like I haven't given you one in this. You're being dragged into a war, I should've found you somewhere safe." Pressing closer into his side you said, "I had a choice, I could've gone with Chaol and Nesryn, but they have eachother and you'd have been alone, I chose to stay with you." He kissed the top of your head then, and Manon tensed ever so slightly across the fire and the White Wolf above loped away.

You were sure you did not want to know what Aedion had served you for dinner, you'd agreed with Aelin when she asked to never be told what she was eating. Balancing a bowl of whatever Aedion had cooked up in one hand and a skin of water in the other you trugged up the slope to find Fenrys. Your right foot caught in a root and your left began to slide backwards when you felt a weight behind you, pushing you back upright. You turned and smiled at the wolf. "I bought you dinner, I don't know what it is, I thought best not to ask, but I don't know if you hunt and eat as a wolf but I didn't want you to be hungry if you didn't and I just assumed that you did," You were well aware you were rambling and you cringed at yourself. With a flash the wolf was a man again and he took the bowl from your hands. "Thank you, Y/N." You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as he studied you, "Show me your footwork and the moves we went through yesterday while I eat?" He asked as he handed you the dagger from its sheath at his hip. So you did.

Halfway through the steps he asked, "So you and Dorian?" You stopped, "What about me and Dorian?" His eyes hardened, "You seemed very close earlier?" Was he jealous? "He asked me why I stayed in the castle after Chaol fled." He nodded once, "Why did you?" He asked, so you told him, "I don't think he remembers, I told him the scars on my face were from the castle shattering, but it was that thing inside him, trying to break him, he shouldn't have to live with that when it wasn't him that did it, not really" Fenrys clenched his jaw, "There's nothing like that between Dorian and I, not now." His eyebrows rose, "Not now?" Your cheeks heated again, "Well, there never really was, just this this one time when we were 16, we decided to have our first time together after too much wine, we thought it was a good idea to get it over and done with, to take the pressure away from it being with someone we were interested in romantically." He nodded again, "I don't regret it." You weren't sure why you felt the need to add that on but you did. "It was awful." You confessed and finally Fenrys laughed, "That's often the way with first times." You smiled at him, "I don't see him like that, nor does he see me like that." He took a breath and made another oath, "No one will touch you again." The conversation was left there, "Show me the steps once more then go and get some rest." That night and every other night spent in the Marshes, you woke to a White Wolf curled around you, one of its Onyx eyes open, always watching. It was never spoken about. Nor was it spoken about how Fenrys had thrown himself off of the rocks he was shooting arrows at the Ilken from when Aelin's power exploded and threw himself over you like a shield.

It hurt to think about what happened on the beach, you'd spotted Lorcan jump in a long boat heading to shore where he'd left Elide, Gavriel and Fenrys long gone, the blood oath calling them to their master you were sure. Elide had become your friend and you were teaching her how to read and write, so you jumped and swam. You couldn't imagine how much it hurt Rowan, to have arrived too late, you knew he'd have let himself be killed to get Aelin to safety. It gutted you to see the warriors powerless and it made you sick to your stomach as you watched Aelin be whipped over and over again, refusing to count.

Fenrys knew he was helpless from the moment he and Gavriel appeared right where Maeve had summoned them, he'd fought it for as long as he could, they both had. Before they'd used his power to jump from the boat he'd looked at her one last time, to find her already watching him, both betrayal and understanding shone in her eyes and he couldn't take it, so, like a coward, he'd grabbed Gavriel and they were gone.

The young Queen, his young Queen wasn't going to last, each whip sounded like the earth was shattering, Gavriel was still trying to right himself from the blood oath being ripped from him, Lorcan was doing the same, Elide was hissing at him like an angry cat, to fight it, to help Aelin, to do something, she pleaded with the witch as well. He wouldn't be so lucky, he knew that. Maeve wouldn't take the oath from him knowing how much he openly despised it. He didn't think he could despise it more until her scent hit him, she was coming and he couldn't stop her, she breezed past him, throwing herself at Maeve, his dagger in hand, the same one he'd handed her this morning, with another promise that he would be close by, the dark queen simply laughed at her and flicked her wrist as darkness slammed into Y/N and sent her flying backwards, he wasn't quick enough to stop the warning growl that left his throat and Maeve's smile turned snakelike.

"Fenrys," She crooned, "Keep your new pet controlled and on the ground." He gritted his teeth, he would not do it, he would not obey. He would not- "Would you rather I ask Cairn to give her the same treatment as my dear niece?" He was moving instantly, he pulled her up as gently as he could. "Please." She begged him quietly, "Don't do this, help her." Silver lined her eyes and Fenrys couldn't look at her. "Such a pretty face." Maeve purred as she dragged the tip of her dagger from Y/N's forehead to her jaw, not hard enough to draw blood but hard enough to be a warning to Fenrys. Instead Maeve struck her with her other hand. He swore he could hear Y/N's teeth rattle as her lip split, she struggled against him, absolute betrayal was all he saw in her face now. "Down, in the sand." Maeve commanded and so he pushed her down so she was lying face down in the sand, she had to hate him, he had to make sure she wouldn't follow, "You promised." She whimpered. Maeve laughed again, Aelin contained in her coffin, she commanded him to leave, his eyes met Gavriel's. Don't let her move, he willed his friend as he stood. Gavriel was there, pulling her up and into his chest as she shouted down the beach after him. "You swore!" Each word like a hot poker to his heart. "You swore you'd be here, that you wouldn't leave!" So Fenrys did the worst thing he could think of, he stopped next to Maeve who was watching him carefully, "I lied, pathetic human. You really thought I'd stay, for you?" He raised an eyebrow at her and saw his words hit their mark, saw her shrink into Gavriel's chest, then, to seal it, to truly break any trust or hope she had in him or for him, he turned to the dark queen and kissed her. "I missed you Majesty."

Fenrys woke with a jolt, Aelin watching him from the stone slab, a dream, it was a dream. She blinked at him. I am here, I am with you. It was either dreams of her, or his brother, which is why he tried his best not to sleep until his body gave out from the exhustion.

You and Gavriel had never spoken of those minutes on the beach where you'd clung to him like he was a teather to the earth, he healed your lip silently as you cried, as Elide pushed away from Lorcan and crawled towards Manon. Aedion pulled you away from his father with a growl, "What happened?" He demanded and through your tears all you could do was shake your head, he asked again and again until Dorian had pushed him away, folding you into his chest. Rowan holding a knife to Lorcan, he was saved by Elide who retold the story.

So a plan was made, Rowan would go with Gavriel, Lorcan and Elide to find her. Dorian was reluctant to let you go with them but he knew you'd go regardless so he agreed and went with the witches. Aedion and Lysandra disguised as Aelin would head back up North.

You were walking arm in arm with Elide when it happened, Gavriel and Lorcan in front of you stopped dead, Rowan taking up the rear was frozen on the hill. "What's happening?" Elide asked Gavriel as he and Lorcan rushed towards Rowan. The two of you caught the tail end of the conversation. "It came from the North, from Doranelle." Rowan looked lighter than he had in weeks, "She's alive." He breathed.

#fenrys x reader #fenrys moonbeam #throne of glass #crown of midnight #heir of fire #assassin's blade #queen of shadows #tower of dawn #kingdom of ash #dorian havilliard

170 notes · View notes

signed-sapphire · 7 days

Text

The Fallen Star ✨ Wish Reimagined

Chapter 3 - The roses

Tw: nightmare, fire, small prick I guess? it's a thorn, swearing as always, it's Asha and by that I mean it's me

Chapter 2

Asha is burning.

She's screaming, she's being crushed. The crackling of fire echoes in her ears, drowning out her own cries.

Everything is bright, but there's a single pair of eyes staring at her from behind the flames.

(Imagine something like this shot from The Owl House)

The creature tilts its head, its expression unreadable. It emits a series of musical tones, like a melody woven from starlight and moonbeams. Asha feels a strange pull, as if the creature is trying to communicate with her through some arcane language she can't quite grasp.

The roof caves in and crashes down, obscuring Asha's view of the figure. The collapse pushes the rubble further into Asha, squeezing the air out of her lungs.

Someone pulls the rubble off her. She wants to yell. Watch out! You'll get crushed too!

They say something. Asha can't hear them. She wants to reach out. Stay with me. The words are on the tip of her tongue. Her throat is parched.

Don't go back in! she wants to cry. Someone's in there!

Why are you leaving me—

She wakes with a gasp, something flat and wet catching the inside of her mouth.

Asha hacks. Valentino had accidentally licked her tongue.

She wipes her tongue and takes a moment so her eyes adjust to the darkness. In the dim light filtering through the curtains, she can make out the familiar details of her bedroom. But with it, she can also see the memories of the dream, crisp and fresh in her mind.

The feeling of panic, of helplessness... she won't be able to fall back asleep, not with the echoes of their screams still haunting her.

This was bullshit. She shouldn't be affected this much by a stupid book. It was just a light.

Asha gets up. She does not tremble.

She unties her hair scarf. Valentino raises his head, his cheek fluff smushed flat from the blanket.

Asha smiles softly and pets his velvety ear. Val bleats quietly, and Asha kisses his forehead.

"Stay here, baby," she whispers, grabbing her cloak. “I’m going for a walk. I'll be back in a bit. Go back to bed, okay?”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The air is cold, but the crispness is a shock to her system that Asha desperately needs. She decides to head to the gardens.

She smiles softly as she remembers the gardens of her childhood. They had roses there, too. Asha used to paint the white ones red.

Red like fire.

Asha hurries on.

She tucks her hands inside her cloak pockets as she walks across the checkered-grass floor. Asha stops at a pocket of daffodils, walking between them and sitting down, careful not to disturb the petals.

Asha watches the flowers dance in the wind, effortless and elegant. She brushes her hand along a row of them.

Right before she reaches the end, she pricks her hand on a thorn. Asha swears under her breath, pushing back the flowers to see a single strewn white rose laying amongst the crowd.

Asha picks it up and stares at it in distain. At a glance one might gloss over it. Even now, a drop of crimson blood painting the petals, the rose blended in quite well with the daffodils.

But up close, it wasn't fooling anyone.

Asha plucks off the petals and tosses away the thorny stem, watching the wind carry the petals... and something else, too. A quiet conversation, approaching Asha's location.

“Baz, I told you, it’s fine, Dahlia just wanted us all there.”

“Argh, but what if we get caught?” came the responding whisper. “Safi, I– I–”

“Hey, breathe,” Safi whispered. “We’re al– a– ACHOO! Why are there so many flowers?”

“Hehe. We’re in a garden…”

“Heh. Made you laugh.”

Asha rolls her eyes and makes her way out of the flowers, making sure her footsteps are heavy enough to catch their attention.

“Eep! Your nose gives away your lies! Hide, Safi!”

“Oof!”

Asha rounds the corner, and Bazeema hides her face as the bush next to her sneezes.

"Ah. Bashful. What are you doing here?” Asha asks, entertaining the other girl’s silly fantasy.

Bazeema peeks open her eyes and lowers her hands. “H-hi, princess. I- I –”

“Speak properly.”

“I–” The girl swallows. “I like to come to the gardens to get inspiration for my designs,” Bazeema squeaks out. “I’m a weaver. My hijab this morning– I made it myself. I’m actually really proud of the design–”

“Yeah yeah yeah, I don’t care,” Asha says. “What are you doing out at this time?”

Bazeema blinks. “I, um… couldn’t sleep. I was worried about Hal.”

“Pfft. Worried?” Asha smirks.

Bazeema looks firmly at the princess. “Yes," she whispers.

Asha frowns. “Right. Uh. Sorry... that your friend is now depressed.”

“Hal has been through a lot, and yet she still smiles. It’s… a trait I admire about her.” Bazeema’s face takes on a wistful look.

Asha is about to respond, but then the bush sneezes again.

“Welp! Time to go, oh I am rather exhausted! Maybe I need that spindle idea of yours!” Bazeema peeps, ushering Asha out of the gardens. “Thank you for gracing me with your presence, princess! Sweet dreams!”

The gates slam in her face.

Asha blinks.

She entertains the idea of throwing Bazeema out the castle windows.

(Can't find the gif, but Bazeema is the old man that Emperor Asha would punish for throwing off her groove)

“So, you admire Hal, huh?”

“Oh, shush, Safi!”

The sound of footsteps retreat. Asha pushes open the gates.

“That was shady,” Asha says, pulling her cloak hood over her hair and shadowing the two teens.

She sneakily follows the two teens to the chicken coop. She peeks around the corner to see the seven teens holding candles and quietly catching Bazeema up to speed.

“I fell asleep in while cleaning my dad’s armour, and I heard something." Sleepy's voice.

“It nearly killed me!” Gabo huffs. “Abuela told me to go see what was causing a ruckus. That could've been the last she saw of me!”

“Baaaaa!”

Asha covers her mouth with her hand to silence her yelp as Valentino pops up beside her. “Jeez, baby! You scared me!” Asha whispers, pulling the goat close.

Dario signs something, not paying attention to the conversation.

“We trapped it inside the coop, but it’s scaring all the chickens,” Safi says worriedly.

I think they're performing an opera, Dario signs, grinning.

Gabo stares in disappointment at his friend, then moves on. “That’s why we sent you to get Bazeema. You’re worrying about the birds too much when you’re here,” he grumbles to Safi. “They’ll be fine.”

“The chickens probably think it’s a fun surprise,” Hal offers. “They sound like they’re having fun.”

“And why wake us all up for this?” Dahlia yawns. “Dario, put the soap down. Where did you even get that?”

It flew out of the coop! Dario grins. He signs with one hand, spelling out some words since the other hand is occupied with holding the bar of soap. I think the chickens laid it. It smells like apple. Hey, do you think this is related to the S-

"Dario, for the last time, spoons cannot be ingested," Dahlia says, massaging her temples while Safi takes the soap from a frowning Dario.

Simon looks nervous. “Well… my papa’s one of the bookkeepers for the castle. I think I know what’s in there—”

Suddenly, Valentino wriggles out of Asha's grasp.

"Valentino!" Asha whisper-shouts as the goat and runs towards the teens. Dario notices the blur of fluff heading towards him and stumbles back, dropping his candle and colliding with Simon, who's already snoring against the wall.

The impact shakes the wooden support beam, and a pile of baskets falls down on Dario’s head. Bazeema yelps and swats at the baskets, crashing into Safi behind her.

The two fall down, almost knocking over Dahlia, but Gabo pulls her out of the way and stomps out the fire Dario's candle lit.

"Okay, spy! Reveal yourself before I do something I won't regret!" Gabo snaps. Dahlia shushes him.

Asha rolls her eyes and pulls down her hood, stepping into the light. The teens' eyes widen, and they scramble up, quickly dropping into a bow.

All except Dario, that is. He was still peering into the chicken coop.

Hal pulls her friend into a bow.

(I can't find a picture but it's like that part in the movie where the seven teens bowed down to Queen Amaya)

"Threatening a royal, Grumpy?" Asha tuts. "Keep it up and I'll have your friend's precious chickens filleted."

Gabo snarls, but stays quiet.

"Now, care to tell me why you stole my goat?" Asha asks. "And what are you doing by the chicken coops when you should be sleeping?"

"None of your royal business," Gabo mutters.

Suddenly, a burst of sparkles poofs out from the crack under the coop's door.

Safi kicks over a pile of baskets. "Whoops! I am so- so-- ACHOO!" The baskets kicked up some hay in the air. "I am so clumsy!" he laughs awkwardly, sniffling.

"What are you hiding?" Asha demands.

"Nothing! And no one!" Safi says quickly.

"Well, we should all head to bed! You too, princess, your otousan would be very cross if he saw you out this late!" Dahlia smiles, moving to direct Asha away.

There's another poof, and a discord of musical instruments.

"Magnus?" Asha scoffs. "I can deal with my adopted father. Now out of the way."

Dahlia looks desperately at her friends. Asha storms past her, shoving away Hal when she tries to stop her.

The princess yanks open the wooden door. Inside the coop is a crazy sight.

Dario smirks, self-satisfied.

Chickens, dancing, doing ballet

Angry chickens in bisexual lighting

Chickens, shooting out eggs out of PG-hidden cloacas

Chickens, juggling their eggs

And in the center, conducting them all...

The thing was round, with eyes shaped like a sparkle and an oval respectively, five points sticking out of it like little limbs.

Exactly like the symbol on the spellbook in Magnifico’s study.

“Oh, fucking hell," Asha swears.

Author's Notes

UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. I hated writing this. I was just stuck, and then I was like, fuck it, I'm posting it because the next chapter I'm really excited to write. Because if I add more, then the cut-off would be... too harsh? I don't know. My phone is broken so I can't create gifs right now akjdkjajksjskjksaj fuck it. Post.

Btw, Star in The Fallen Star looks like this:

With a sparkle on the (our) left and a "regular" oval for the other eye on out right.

GET READY! THIS CHAPTER SUCKED BUT THE NEXT ONE SOMETHING BIG HAPPENS AND IT IS A LONG ONE!

Me to my own writing

#the fallen star au #asha x star #asha #star x asha #disney wish #wish 2023 #human star #princess asha #starsha #the fallen star fic

24 notes · View notes