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mochinomnoms · 4 months

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Do you think humans in twisted wonderland have periods? What if they don't...

What if AFAB!Yuu is the only one in twisted wonderland to have periods and it freaks everyone out

Evolutionarily speaking it would make sense for the humans in twisted wonderland to reabsorb the unused egg for extra fuel for magic

[cw] - discussion of periods/afab!Yuu but still written as gn [wc} - 1,792 Added the rest under readmore as it got a bit long. I think there's a fic somewhere on here with this idea, but I can't remember the blog or name, I'll edit and link it later if I find it. I can see the point of the egg being reabsorbed, though personally I think TWST humans are biologically the same as Earth humans, minus the ones with magic maybe having a bit stronger/heighten senses and strengths. After all, there are plenty of humans who aren't magic, I think it's mentioned some point in their book 2 or book 5 that a majority of the population is either magicless or aren't privy to the privilege of formal magical education.

Even if a majority of the human population is magic, there's still a good chunk of them that don't and if that's the case then they at least would have periods.

However, that's explicitly the human population, and in reality it makes absolutely no sense for beastmen or merfolk to have periods. Especially when they have things like heat/ruts or mating cycles. Fae I think would actually make the most sense for the headcanon you're mentioning! They are completely and utterly magic, made from the magic of the earth, animals, and flora given sentience and forms. They are utterly magic, through, and through, so it would make sense for those with uteri to recycle the egg back into them for magical fuel.

And say we're going with the assumption that there are no other afab students in the school, or there are, but they're only beastmen, merfolk, and/or fae, then an afab!Yuu comes as quite a shock.

The beastmen are the first to notice something off with them, as they have the most acute sense of smell. This is followed by a very close second with the merfolk (particularly the predacious ones) and an even closer third by the fae. All the boys from those dorms, minus Lilia who's lived long enough to know what a period is, clock in on their friend who reeks of blood and flesh (because you're also shedding pieces of your uterine lining).

Lord help you, as you're in a crowded area, the cafeteria, with not only them but the rest of their classmates that also smell your blood, because their immediate thought is that you're fucking dying.

Sebek is surprisingly the first to launch himself at you, shouting at the top of his lungs, “WHERE IS YOUR INJURY HUMAN?! YOU ARE SEVERELY INJURED YOU SHOULD BE IN THE INFIRMARY—” Before he is yanked off by a wide-eyed Jack, who's looking more and more like the dead as he leans down to sniff at you.

The blood from his face drains (ha) as he turns to look at Leona and Ruggie, as well as a small group of other beastmen—friend's you've made during the tournament—and nods. This causes them to all look horrified and gaze at you like a wounded puppy. Minus Leona, who just looks amused.

“It's coming from them.”

Still confused, you stare at the Heartslabyul group—who'd been eating breakfast with you—in bewilderment. They also look at you in confusion, except for Riddle, the latter of which pinches the bridge of his noses and takes a deep sigh.

“I think you're all being a bit dramatic, they're just on their—”

“DRAMATIC? I DON'T THINK YOU'RE BEING DRAMATIC ENOUGH!”

Floyd grabs you from behind, spinning you and shoving his face so close to yours that you noses are smushed together.

“Shrimpy… you gotta tell me who did it, cause I could tell from aaaaall the way in the hallway that ya hurt. Com'on! Tell Floydie, I promise I won't be mad.”

Jade placed a hand on his brother's shoulder as he leans down to chastise Floyd.

“Not now Floyd, the poor thing is hurt, we should take them to the infirmary. Then we can hunt down the dreadful soul that hurt our friend and have them trade their spot.”

You felt yourself being lifted from the ground, yelping and latching your arms around Floyd's neck as he cradles you in his arms. Effectively yanking you from Jack's grip, who immediately growls.

“Floyd! Be careful!”

“Ehhh? Yeah that sounds like a great idea! Let's go now, I'm itching for a good fight, ayhehehe!”

Leona and Riddle shared a look, the former sighed to try and explain.

“Look you idiots, they're not injured, they're—”

“What are you waiting for?” Ruggie interrupted him, annoyed by Leona's unconcerned attitude, instead gesturing to Floyd. “Let's go before they bleed out even more!”

The small group clamored out of the cafeteria, a few more concerned students following after them as they started to hear bits and pieces of the conversation. Leaving Leona and the others in the dust. Deuce piped up.

“… Uh, do they not know—”

“No, most beastmen aren't familiar with periods.”

“I'm guessing merfolk and fae don't either, based on the twins and Sebek.” Riddle sighed, feeling sorry for you.

Leona's ears perked as he heard the shrill shriek of a certain octopus in the distance. Riddle and the others also seemed to hear it as they winced.

“Probably not…”

“…”

“… should we?”

“Yeah, we probably should, before my boys wreck the school. Let's get Crewel.”

It took a whole hour of you reassuring the small crowd that had formed around your bed in the infirmary before anyone calmed down. Floyd and Jade were being constantly pulled back into the infirmary by the ear by the nurse, who kept telling the two to stop trying to go beat up the imaginary person that, quote unquote, “hurt you”.

“What do you mean Shrimpy isn't hurt? I can smell the blood from all the way down the hall!”

“Yes, it's quite a potent scent, and distinct to our dear Prefect.” Jade held his hand to his chest as he sniffled. “We've smelled it before when they've gotten hurt, but this is a whole different level.”

“Yeah! Almost all of Savanaclaw could smell it” Ruggie nodded in agreement as Jack followed.

“They must be really hurt if we all could smell it from that far away! You need to help them nurse!”

Their voice's grew again in volume, Sebek in particular, as he vowed to also hunt down the “ruffian who would dare harm a fellow student on the campus Master Malleus attended!”

The nurse, growing more and more annoyed trying to corral the group (she wondered how ethical it would be to use a silencing spell and another to stick them to the ceiling), sighed in relief as the echo of Crewel's whip commanded immediate silence.

“Oh, thank the Sundrop, Professor Crewel, please control them. I am up to here with their foolishness—”

“Foolish? The Prefect might be dying!” Azul cried out, surprisingly attached to your side. She'd tried to yank him off of you earlier, but was met with a shocking amount of strength as his grip on the metal bed frame caused an Azul-sized hand indent to form. His strength, easy to forget in his slender frame. Now, he was trying his best to coax the name of the student responsible with promises of free drinks and discounted food.

“No I'm not!” You cried out in exasperation. “I've been trying to tell you, but y'all won't listen!”

As you tried to get up from the bed, trapped in a blanket cocoon made by Azul, the boys started up again. Half urging you to stay in bed and rest, while the other half argued with the nurse, and now Crewel, about healing you up.

A near ear-shattering rumble of thunder caused another silence to fall over everyone. This time, though, the group shrunk into themselves as Malleus, standing proud and tall, entered the room. Sebek perked up, rushing over to meet him.

“Young Master! I've ensured that the human was taken to the infirmary, but so far they've refused any healing—”

“Thank you, Sebek. I will speak to them myself.”

Malleus, his school jacket flourishing behind him (one of the students murmured that he felt like a background character in a romance movie), flew to your side. Where you had been squirming your upper body out of the blanket cocoon, smacking at Azul's hands as he kept attempting to swaddle you back in.

Now freed waist up, you turned to face Malleus, who had elegantly kneeled down by your bedside (you could hear Sebek muffled a shriek) and held your hand like a delicate piece of china.

“Child of Man, my friend, what happened? Are you alright? Did someone hurt you?” Malleus cooed at you, green eyes peering into yours, full of concern.

So it was a surprise to everyone in the room when you groaned, which morphed into a soft scream.

“Uh… Child of Man?”

“I'm fiiiiiine!” You sighed, slumping back into the bed. “I'm just on my period, you guys.”

The room remained quiet, a bit too quiet as you lifted your head back up to look at the room of confused looking men. Crewel had a hip cocked as he looked unimpressed over the crowd. The nurse was rubbing her temples. You heard Azul clear his throat, drawing his attention as he asked,

"What's a period?"

Finally, the crowd had settled, all of them huddled around your bed as you tried your best to explain what a menstral cycle was.

"So you like, bleed every month? Randomly?"

"Amount 28 days, so once a month yeah. And now it's not random, it's part of the reproductive cycle. It's my body preps for a new egg—"

"But, I though humans didn't lay eggs?" Floyd asked, leaning against Azul's right shoulder.

"We don't, it's different the egg turns into a baby itself so there's no egg to lay—"

Ruggie spoke up, "We get that, but I don't get why the egg makes you bleed? It can't do that can it?"

"No, no, no. It's not the egg itself, it's my body. In order for the egg to get fertilize it needs a good environment to grow, so the uterus grows a fresh lining once a month for the egg to latch on to, so—"

You sighed as once of the other fae students interrupted.

"Fresh lining? Like, the skin? Of the uterus?"

You nodded, trying to keep your patience as you attempted to explain to your friends that, no, you were in fact not bleeding to death.

"Yes, that's the blood, the skin is shedding to make a fresh one for the next egg."

You don't think it's working, as that last sentence caused a wave of mortifcation amongst the crowd.

"That... sounds like it hurts." Malleus, still holding your hand, softly asked. "You're not hurting though, correct?"

Pursing your lips, you looked up at the ceiling, avoiding eye contact. Wow had that cobweb always been in that corner?

"Yuu."

Malleus's voice, calling out your name for once, was full of questioning.

"Yeah Horns?"

"it doesn't hurt, correct?"

You started whistling a little tune, studying the dirt under your nails.

"Dear Prefect," Jade this time. "Answer the question?"

The group leaned in closer as you grumbled under your breath.

"Speak up Shrimpy."

".........not always."

"Come on, stop being shy, you act like a puppy most of the time" Ruggie was getting annoyed.

".....cramps..not move...not always."

"It's okay Yuu, you can say it." Azul cooed.

"...Sometimes the cramps makes it hurt too much to move, but not always."

You braced yourself as the crowd once again riled up.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT HURTS TOO MUCH TO MOVE?"

The nurse off to the side still, leaned over to tell Crewel, "I told you we needed an interspecies health class."

hehe this was fun, comments appreciated. I may be inclined to write more since writing different between species like this is fun

#mochi asks #twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #if you squint its an x reader #mochi fic

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prince-kallisto · 8 months

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Complete Guide to the “Crowley is Levan” Theory

Hello, its the self-proclaimed Crowley/Levan theory expert, back at it again! (*ﾟ∀ﾟ*) I’m really shocked at Book 7’s recent update, and I’m seeing more and more people get into the Crowley/Levan theory.

But for everyone who is new to this theory, people who aren’t yet convinced, or anyone who just wants the major points in one document, I decided to write everything I know about this theory, with the help from posts from my fellow theorists! Of course, at the end of the day it’s just a theory, so make your own conclusions! ^_^

Buckle up everyone for a very long post rife with lore! I worked hard on this one, as it is a culmination of ALL my previous theories, so sharing is appreciated haha. Heavy Book 7 spoilers ahead!

This theory revolves around the idea that Headmage Dire Crowley is actually Duke Levan, the father of Malleus Draconia. Before we get into the nitty-gritty details, let’s go over everything we know SO FAR.

Levan (Revan, Levaan, and Revaan is also a common spelling) is the husband of Meleanor Draconia, who is the Princess of Wild Rose Castle. Levan is a Duke, Diplomat, nobleman, and the left-hand war general. He had control over the Eastern Fort while Lilia had control over the Western Fort. His title is “Ryūgan Duke Levan,” or 竜眼公レヴァーン in Japanese. The characters imply a connection to the Chinese Long, and Ryūgan very roughly translates to “Dragon eyed,” although it is uncertain if Levan is a Dragon Fae, or if this is just his title. Levan is referred to as Meleanor’s “eyes, limbs, and husband,” so perhaps “Dragon Eyed” refers to his connection to Meleanor? Due to his name, people also suspect he may be a bird Fae, specifically a raven.

He seems to be based of Diablo, Maleficent’s raven. From what we know from Lilia, he is slightly meek (according to childhood stories) and gentle, always with a smile on his face. However, he is also extremely dependable and strong. Rumor has it he fought against the Dawn Knight, a figure that the night Fae fear for his power. Despite Levan’s clumsiness, Meleanor is very enamored with him, praising him for the smallest of things while punishing everyone else. Meleanor refers to Levan as “beautiful,” although we have no silhouette or voice for him currently. Levan grew up with Meleanor and Lilia, and was very close with Lilia, who was the right-hand general.

When Lilia ripped up his invitation to NRC, Levan painstakingly took all the pieces out of the trash and pieced them all together, storing the invitation in the Royal Archive for Lilia to come back 500 years later. Lilia wonders if Levan somehow knew that he would go to NRC with Malleus in the future. Levan is also very willing to start relations with humans compared to the rest of Briar Valley, as he taught Lilia the human language, and has said that he hopes one day, the humans and Fae can share a common language to exchange culture and history together in peace. This positive attitude and willingness to teach is likely what made him such a good diplomat.

However, Levan went missing in the Silver Owls vs. Briar Valley war when leading a mission to deliver letters to the Eastern Fort. Meleanor is heavily implied to be dead, but Levan simply disappeared and never returned. In Briar Valley history books, he is assumed to be dead, but little information of him is known.

But what does all this backstory have anything to do with Dire Crowley? He’s unreliable, manipulative, and never does more work than necessary, even with all the student Overblots. He sounds nothing like Levan. Well, let’s go to the birthplace of this theory to see what’s up:

Crowley and Malleus Parallels

Black hair with a green-ish tint, pale skin, pointed ears, dark lips, and a similar tall stature. No other character besides Meleanor resembles Malleus to this degree.

Although no dialogue has confirmed it, it is heavily, HEAVILY implied that Crowley is in fact, one of the Fae. He’s been Headmage at NRC for at least 100 years and several of his features imply a Fae heritage. He even gets offended when the Ghost Camera, that was invented in a great-great grandmothers time, is referred to as “old,” as if he took offense to the implication that HE’S old. He’s likely a bird Fae, as he may transform into a raven/crow in the opening animation, and his voice lines show him with bird-like habits. Crowley also refers to his “wings” several times as a part of his anatomy.

@twisted-tech shows that in the Glorious Masquerade event, Malleus wears an costume that’s startlingly similar to Crowley’s outfit, down to the detailed vest to the feathers on his shoulders. In the animation announcement for GloMas, Malleus stands in front of the light the same exact way Crowley does in the opening prologue animation.

The 2nd anniversary animation also has a strange moment between Crowley and Malleus, with Crowley appearing for a quick moment, before a light shines over him, revealing Malleus.

In Malleus’ birthday-boy interview he mentions how black is the color of nobility in Briar Valley, thus his tendency to wear all-black attire. Isn’t it interesting how Crowley’s main outfit color is black? On a similar note, when an Alchemy Special Lesson is triggered, Malleus says “He’s [Crowley] is far from ordinary.” Malleus, who prides himself for being extremely powerful to the point he thinks less of others, thinks Crowley is unusual? Does he sense a type of power from Crowley, or does something seem uncomfortably familiar about him?

And last but certainly not least, Crowley’s secret concept art. This in-person event was very exclusive, so many obscure concept art pieces of the characters were only shown here. Crowley seemed to be grouped with the Diasomnia cast with the same color palette, and his purple cape is highly reminiscent of Maleficent’s. He even has briars climbing up his leg. He even has the stamp of the three good fairies on his paper, just like the beta designs for Lilia and Malleus. Of course, concept art should not be used too heavily as a source, but this is certainly no coincidence, and don’t you think it’s odd how secretive this image is? Most fans have no idea this concept art exists.

These two must have some type of connection with each other- this evidence alone is what convinced me in the first place. However, this is just the beginning:

Ravens & Crows Symbolism, Levan vs Crowley

Levan and Crowley have a shocking amount of similarities too! Ravens in mythology were considered to be messengers of the gods, and were especially connected to Apollo, the god of Prophecy. I think that Levan’s unique magic was the gift of Propechy, as in he could see future events. Bringing back Lilia’s line of if Levan somehow knew he would go to NRC with Malleus 500 years in the future, I say yes! He knew many things about what the future held due to his magic, and it makes sense with Raven symbolism. Crowley also has a strange knowledge of future events, from the STYX invasion to Grim’s magestone collar. @rayroseu has also pointed out the Malleus’ egg heavily resembles a Black Opal, which symbolizes death and destruction, and was used to “gaze” into the past, present, and future. Hmmm

What if as a way to reunite with Lilia and Malleus, Levan became the Headmage of NRC? He would have every skill necessary to do so, and Crowley has many connections to the school board, STYX, the Asim’s, Jupiter Conglomerate, etc. He’s not as much as fool as he’d like you to think- he’s in charge of the prestigious school for a very good reason. He knows the perfect balance of manipulation and sweet-talking, just as expected of the diplomat and envoy, just like ravens were in mythology.

Ravens have symbolized death and destruction for a very long time- and isn’t it interesting how Crowley’s first name is “Dire,” as in ‘disastrous’? Yana Toboso has confirmed that “Dire” is actually pronounced as the English word “Dear,” like ‘beloved.’ @sote-forever has pointed out that the origin of Levan’s name means “gracious/merciful,” which feels oddly familiar to Crowley’s catchphrase of “I am so kind/Watashi yasashii no de.” The EN translation uses “gracious” instead of “kind” a lot as well 👀

Speaking of his catchphrase, in Book 7 when Grim hears more about Levan, he says that Levan sounded like a “kind man.” He even uses the same exact language as Crowley uses, ‘yasashi,’ meaning gentle and kind. Just like the meaning of Levan’s name. For reference:

私優しいので is Watashi Yasahii No de “Because I’m kind.”

優しかった is what Grim said: Yasahikatta (?) meaning “He was kind”

Back to the death symbolism, I mentioned that ravens were Psychopomp. In mythology, ravens were said to guide human souls to the underworld by the will of the gods. And isn’t it interesting how NRC is FULL of death and underworld symbolism? Technically, Crowley IS the Psychopomp, because he is responsible for transporting the students and is the only one with a special key to unlocking the students coffins. He even says in the prologue that the coffins were designed to represent the “departure of your previous world, and rebirth into a new one.”

As a side note, crows and ravens fall under the same exact word in Japanese: karasu. There are some instances in the EN translation where crow and raven are mixed up, as Diablo, Maleficent’s raven, is referred to as a “crow” in one of Malleus’s chats. Hmmm

Crowley’s cane is also interesting. Not only does the bottom key part spell out “Raven,” the top of his cane looks exactly like Diablo when he was turned into stone at the end of Sleeping Beauty. Although I do agree that Crowley has connections to the Evil Queen’s crow, I think he could be inspired by both. Similarly, NRC’s logo is a raven with a crown above his head. Levan WAS royalty, after all…

Levan also has a special acceptance of humans. His wife DESPISES humans, but he learned a common language of the Fae and humans in order to communicate, and even taught other Fae the language himself. And once again, he saved Lilia’s invitation to NRC. Doesn’t he sound like someone who wishes to share knowledge? He wants peaceful communication between humans and Fae to share culture and history, just like what NRC is like today. It feels a lot like a Headmage’s behavior, don’t you think?

From the way Meleanor treated Levan, Levan’s behavior sounds oddly like Crowley’s. Meleanor praised him for the most basic things, and seemed to dote over him a lot. Crowley is incredibly egotistical about doing literally the most basic shit ever lmaoo, but I can’t blame him for getting a big head if he used to be always praised for it. Lilia also says that Levan would probably return with a big smile on his face. In every single animation that Crowley is present in, he always has a smile on his face, watching carefully over the events.

Levan also seemed to be a bit of a crybaby in his childhood, as Lilia said that when they got lost in a forest, he “could never forget Levan’s pitiful expression.” Crowley definitely has an aversion to death or people getting hurt, and has cried several times when he gets overemotional.

In the prologue, Crowley claims to be intimately acquainted with every single students homelands. Yes, his hobby IS vacationing, but I think he knows the lands way more intimately than simple sightseeing. Again, Levan was a diplomat. He would have a vast amount of knowledge about the inner workings, culture, and history of many different foreign lands.

Edit: We also have NO IDEA of Crowley’s homeland. If I remember correctly, he’s the only character where his land of origin is unknown. Why would TWST do this, unless this was a huge spoiler? Like…say if Crowley’s homeland was Briar Valley???

And finally, I think it’s EXTREMELY suspicious that we have not seen at least a silhouette of Levan, despite his name coming up in conversations several times. Why would his silhouette not be revealed, unless his silhouette is a dead giveaway to a character we already know? Same reasoning for why we haven’t had a flashback with his voice- his voice would just reveal the truth. Additionally, NRC seems to lack books over the history of Briar Valley and what happened to Levan and Meleanor. In one of the History Lessons, Malleus mentions a photo of Lilia in a history book. Perhaps there are history books with a painting/photo of Levan? It would explain why the history is so lacking, because Crowley doesn’t want his past self to be seen.

Meleanor, NRC & Other

Whew, we’re almost done! This is the miscellaneous category, but just as important as the above points.

Meleanor, OB Malleus, and Crowley have many many similarities. I go into more detail in the linked post, but Meleanor’s and Crowley’s features definitely “combine” in Malleus’ features. Take for example, Meleanor’s straight dark teal hair and Crowley’s wavy black hair with a slight greenish tint. It merges perfectly into Malleus’s hair. There are many similarities in their outfit designs too, so I recommend looking at this post!

This is very strange, but the coliseum and Diasomnia’s dorm hallway have the SAME EXACT DESIGNS as the passageway in Briar Valley (converted into a Silver Owl hideout) and the hall in MELEANOR’S castle. No one could have this punt of knowledge of these locations, especially Meleanor’s castle that was covered in briars and abandoned. Unless…someone at NRC was intimately acquainted with both of these locations. Perhaps a noblemen like Levan would know? Meaning, Crowley?

Crowley in the prologue talks to his “proud, beautiful flower of evil” in the mirror. I highly recommend rewatching the part, because Crowley’s voice just shows how much love he has for this flower of evil. Lili refers to Meleanor as the “most evil Princess,” and she is also the Princess of Wild Rose Castle. Rose like a flower 🌹 \(//∇//)\ She is also an extremely proud person, and does not hesitate to strike people down for disagreeing with her.

Many people ask why Levan would abandon Meleanor, especially when he loved her. I don’t think he willingly abandoned her at all! If my theory of his prophecy magic is right, he knew that there was nothing he could do to prevent Meleanor’s death and the fall of their castle. And who knows, what if Levan Overblotted when he went missing? He led a GROUP of messengers to the Eastern Fort, so what happened to these messengers? Did they die at his hands when he Overblotted? It’s a common theory that Crowley is under the influence of blot, as his mask and gloves would cover Overblot markings.

@ventique18 has also mentioned that a dark Fae’s love in literature is depicted to be OBSESSIVE, as in the couple can drive themselves mad over their love for each other. I think Crowley was a much kinder and genuine person as Levan, but Meleanor’s death permanently scarred him. Plus, as much as we don’t want to admit it, it’s been 500 years. Look at Lilia: he’s changed SO MUCH over the years since his time as general. Why can’t Levan do the same? Longing to reunite with his loved one for CENTURIES isn’t healthy at all, but he desires it so much that he’s willing to hurt innocent people in order to achieve it.

This is out of the TWST canon lol, but there’s potentially a lot of connection to Edgar Allen Poe’s “Lenore” and “The Raven.” Lenore mourns a “queenliest dead that ever died so young” before her wedding, which could parallel Meleanor dying before Malleus’ birth. The Raven represents the pure desperation, grief, and insanity of him wanting to see his lost love again: Lenore, and how he’s unable to cope with her passing. UM??!!!

FINALLY, as the saying goes: Malleus had to get his loser genes from somewhere. Hope this helps! 🤪

Jokes aside, I’m exhausted but I feel very happy to have made this guide! Many thanks to all the blogs I’ve mentioned above, and to Gasmask on Youtube, Otome Atui on Youtube, and MoonlightEquin1 on Twitter for translations!!! It really helped me out my thoughts together in this theory, and I hope it can serve as a reference guide to everyone else!

I had to link a lot of my separate theories just because there is too much to go over in one post, and I’m very limited with photos on mobile ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡ If yall can think of anything else to add, it would be greatly appreciated! Thank you to everyone for your support, it’s so fun theorizing with everybody!! 💞💞💞

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azrielslightintheshadows · 5 months

Text

Princess

Azriel x f!Reader

One of the series I’m currently working on. Enjoy!

Summary; Reader is Mor’s new friend that she found in the winter court while she was away for business. Y/n has been raised as a princess since her parents wanted to wed her to a noble fae in order to climb the social ranks. When her parents are brutally murdered y/n is left alone without a clue about the harsh reality or the brutality of the world. Mor finds her and takes her back to Velaris afraid of what might happen to her if she was left to live on her own. Will y/n survive the hate she will receive from certain members of the inner circle -including her mate- regarding the way she grew up?

Warnings; angst, mentions of abuse, trauma and death, swearing

Masterlist.

Princess Masterlist.

Chapter 9

“He really said that?” Aeden gaped at you, and you nodded before grabbing your glass and gulping down the wine.

“Why did that bitch tell him?” He exclaimed.

“Don’t call her that!” you gasped “They all consider each other family I was stupid for telling her”.

“I guess you’re right…” he hummed “I can’t understand what’s his problem”.

“That makes two of us” you sighed and poured more wine in your glass. “What are you planning to do?” he asked.

“Hide here for as long as I can and keep training by myself. At some point I must return there, I don’t want to offend the High Lord and his hospitality. But when I return, I want to be stronger, to be able to fight for myself.” You explained and he nodded with a proud smile.

“If you need a sparring partner I can ask Clover, he has fought in two wars”.

“Thank you” You smiled and moved closer to the fireplace but froze when you saw a shadow slithering by the window.

“Shit” you breathed and hid behind the couch.

“What?” Aeden glanced around.

“Shadows” you whispered “Window.”

Aeden got up slowly and approached the window leaving a gasp as soon as he peeked outside.

“What?” you scream-whispered.

“They’re everywhere, you can’t even see the street. Oh shit the sky too” he exclaimed wide-eyed.

“I’m screwed, he will find me” you whined a bit louder.

Aeden shushed you and you slapped your hand over your mouth and nose trying to stay as quiet as you could. The adamant wall around your side of the bond was still intact but you could feel Azriel trying to claw his way through.

“When I tell you ‘now’ I want you to run and hide in the closet” Aeden said.

You hummed and waited, staring at the bedroom door.

“Now!”

You got up and ran like your life depended on it, you opened the closet and jumped inside slamming the door shut and controlling your breathing. You could hear Aeden running around, tidying up the place and spraying his perfume. Suddenly the door opened, and he gave you a pleading look.

“No matter what you hear don’t come out. If you care about my life don’t do it.” He said breathlessly and stared into your eyes.

“Why?” you asked.

“When you said ‘he will find me’ some shadows pounced on my window, I think they heard you but even if they didn’t, they saw me and I know that the shadowsinger will come here.” He explained. “Even if he starts beating me don’t come out. If he finds you here I’m dead.”

“I’m so sorry” you teared up and he smiled softly.

“It’s okay dollface that’s what friends are for”.

He closed the door again and left.

Your whole body trembled, and you sat down pulling some of his clothes on you to cover your scent.

Suddenly a crushing noise filled the silence and you flinched.

“Where is she?” Azriel’s deep and raspy voice boomed through the small apartment.

“What the fuck?” Aeden shouted “Who?”

“Don’t play games with me blondie!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, if you explain I might be able to help” Aeden snorted.

“Where the fuck is y/n?” Azriel growled. “In the house of wind? That’s where she usually is” you knew that he had furrowed his eyebrows.

The door of the closet cracked open, and a shadow slipped in, caressing your cheek and slithering back out.

“No come here”. You pleaded and almost gasped when it did.

“Please don’t say anything! I just need some time to think. I will come back when I’m ready.” You whispered and the shadow darted out.

You were on the verge of tears until you heard Azriel.

“If she comes, please tell her that I only want to talk with her. I won’t force her to come back.”

It didn't tell him. You thought. “Of course.” Aeden said.

You heard the door close and started removing the clothes.

“You can come out” Aeden said and knocked on the door.

You exited and started fixing his stuff.

“Thank you so much.” You spoke.

“I didn’t do anything and to be honest I’m surprised he didn’t beat the fucking shit out of me” he chuckled.

You opened your mouth to speak but quickly shut it when you noticed a shadow slipping through the door.

“Oh shit” Aeden cursed but you shook your head, for some reason you knew it was the one that found you in the closet. It approached you and climbed your body to rest on your shoulder and tickle you behind your ear.

You giggled and whispered “You’ll stay with me?”.

It caressed your cheek as if to say yes.

“That thing is your friend now?” Aeden exclaimed and you nodded. "I don’t think they allow pets in here. What does it eat?”

“It’s a shadow” you quirked your brow.

Tell him that I eat souls. A cold voice rang through your mind, and you flinched, the shadow seemed to freak out as well as it floated away.

“WHAT? Did it bite you?” Your friend freaked out. “No it informed me that it eats souls” you snorted.

“It eats WHAT?” Aeden took a few steps back almost tripping over the couch.

“Oh come on it’s a shadow don’t freak out.”

“You better keep this away from me.”

“Okay” you sighed and sat on the couch with the shadow on your shoulder again.

You can hear me?

“Yes” you said.

But you’re not a shadowsinger.

“I know… Azriel is my mate though.” You shrugged.

I’m here to protect you.

“I know”

“Are you having a conversation with it?” Aeden asked and the shadow hissed.

“Yup and it doesn’t like you” you stuck your tongue out to him, and he made a vulgar gesture.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“I can’t fucking find her Rhys” Azriel paced in Rhysand’s office “What if someone took her?”

“We’re in Velaris Az.” The High Lord rolled his eyes.

“That didn’t stop Hybern’s army. What if the Illyrians took her? They are still bitter about letting the women train. That bartender used to hang out with some Illyrians during the war and his brother fought by their side if I remember correctly, maybe he told them about her and they took her.” Rhysand had never heard his brother talk so much.

“Okay you can search the camps, do you want me or Cassian to come with you?” he sighed.

“No I’m good.” The shadowsinger exited the office with a determined expression and Rhysand pinched the bridge of his nose.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Three days passed, Aeden took care of you, and you managed to work on your fighting and self-esteem. You were stronger than before, you could take your own decisions and talk back but still there were some moments that you hesitated. You knew that you had to work harder but it didn’t stop you from celebrating the small victories. Azriel was on your mind constantly and you blamed it on the bond, and the shadow who was constantly by your side.

Aeden came back from the store, his face was pale and his hands were shaking.

“What happened?” You gasped and hurried to grab the bags from him.

“Someone burned down five Illyrian camps, we don’t know who.” He said and sat on the couch.

“What? How do you know?”

“Me and my brother have some friends there….” He rubbed his face.

“Who could do something like that?” your breath hitched at the thought.

“We don’t know yet. Y/n you have to go back and ask the High Lord to do something… please.” Aeden looked devastated and your heart ached. You didn’t want to go back but your friend needed you and you couldn’t say no, not after everything he did for you.

“Okay, I will.”

“I’m sorry for asking you to do this but…”

“It’s okay” you smiled and gathered your few stuff. You hugged him goodbye and left.

For the first time the streets weren’t busy.

They probably heard about the camps. The shadow whispered and you nodded.

“There’s the shadowsinger’s whore” a deep voice sounded from behind you. You span around and were met with the sight of two huge illyrians and Clover. The shadow floated in front of you and hissed at them.

“Well maybe we should burn her like he did with our camps” the other one smiled and Clover nodded.

“Clover…” you whispered.

“Your mate murdered my friends” he gritted his teeth.

“Please…” you whispered again and took a few steps back.

“No one can help you” the tallest one said and pounced on you. You dodged him with a grunt and elbowed his side.

“You whore” he snarled and the other one ran towards you, the shadow covered his eyes buying you some time to punch him.

“Come here” Clover screamed and grabbed you from behind. Your body moved on its own, all the advises Cassian gave you rang in your mind and you hit his nose with the back of your head, his grip loosened and you kicked his crotch before running away.

“You’re not going anywhere” the first one growled and hit your head with the handle of his sword. You saw the shadow splitting in half, one part darting away and the other slipping in your shirt before passing out.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You smelled oil and suddenly an excruciating pain, you screamed and opened your eyes. Horror, your blood froze as you watched your hands burning, the flames wild and angry. You watched the shadow frantically patting the flames trying to extinguish them. Someone poured water on your hands and then patted them with a blanket. “Good you’re awake” he smiled wickedly.

“Now they will match” another one spoke, and you watched your flesh coming off and landing on the floor in front of you. You were tied on a chair with your hands stretched in front of you with chains keeping them steady.

“He burned five of our camps.” The first one said.

“Yeah, I guess we have to burn more of her to call us even” the other snorted and moved closer with the bottle of oil.

"Please find me" you whispered and opened your side of the bond.

If I forgot to tag someone please let me know <3

@glitterypirateduck, @zara-aliza08, @mika-no-sekai-blog , @purpleshoelaces , @act1839 , @fasoaurore , @pinksmellslikelove, @bunnyredgirl, @lectoracronica , @tuggboatfishin, @sunnysideup000 , @blessthepizzaman,, @raisinggray, @ssmay123 , @kalulakunundrum, @justasillylittlegoofyguy , @tsunami-of-tears, @just-a-social-casualty-1, @thelov3lybookworm , @saltedcoffeescotch, @justdreamstars, @strangersunghoon , @sosuitcandy , @cat-or-kitten , @ohthemisssery , @starsinyourseyes

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jeannineee · 9 months

Text

Umbra et Ventus (Ⅲ)

Azriel x Reader

a/n: part 1 here. part 2 found here.

warnings: canon-typical themes, allusions to PTSD. Descriptions of blood, gore, violence. Reader was enslaved on the Continent, so there’ll be some description of that in this part.

requests are open, for headcanons or short blurbs/drabbles! Love you guys!!

“Focus, girl,” Amren hissed at you for the hundredth time. Part of you wished that your so-called power actually existed, if only to throw her ass over the nearest cliff.

The two of you had been at it all morning. You sat on the hardwood floor in the living room of the House of Wind. Amren stood across from you, repeating the same words: Focus. Breathe. Feel.

So you tried. You remained on your knees, palms upturned, eyes shut. You centered yourself, breathing slowly, steadily. Each attempt led you to a desolate part of yourself. A hollow space in your soul, long since forgotten.

And in that space, there was a kernel. A small, silvery flicker. But each time you reached for it, it strayed further. Just out of reach.

Scowling, you stood, bracing your hands on your hips. “What is the point of this?” You said to Amren. “You’ve known me for all of three days. You are second in command of the Night Court, and I am a nobody refugee. What is the point? Why me?”

Amren stared at first. Her gaze was almost terrifying, but you did not balk. Did not waver as you asked again, “What is the point?”

“The point, girl,” Amren began as she stood in front of you. “Is that your power is unlike anything I have sensed in my fifteen thousand years.”

You had to fight the urge to let your jaw drop to the ground. Fifteen thousand years.

Amren continued, “And I do not think it is mere coincidence that emissaries from the Continent show up, requesting the refugees be returned to them only days after you show up in Velaris.”

‘Them.’ Their masters. Their owners.

Your heart fell to your stomach. How had you not heard about this? You’d been in Velaris for almost two months, and yet—Madja. She’d kept this from you. To keep you from breaking any further.

You had the vague sense that Amren was speaking to you. But you couldn’t hear. Couldn’t think beyond the roaring in your head. Hundreds of half-fae and humans alike have sought refuge in Velaris. They fought and bled for their freedom, only for it to potentially be stripped away again?

Images flooded your mind, from your time spent in the slave camps of Vallahan. Half-fae and humans of all ages, broken and abused. The Overseers; faces full of wrath and disgust and hatred.

Your ears rang with the cracking of whips. The screams of the dying. Your own screams, as you were chained to that post and beaten and—

“Y/n.”

You remembered the smell of blood. The smell of rotting flesh, as your dead kin laid in the sun for days before being put into unmarked graves.

“Y/n.”

You snapped back into reality, knees almost buckling at what you saw. The room looked as though someone had ripped it apart. Now-tattered books, strewn across the floor, wooden shelves and tables in splinters.

Amren, who you were almost certain never showed any surprise, was wide-eyed as she observed you. Upon meeting your eyes, she said, “That’s one way to do it.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Wind and lightning. Though you saw none of it, felt none of it. But Amren swore it surrounded you in those moments, as your mind took you to places you never wanted to be again.

Sometimes, emotion can drive one’s power, Amren had said. We’ll learn to draw it out without it.

When you demanded an explanation as to what Rhysand and his Inner Circle planned on doing in regards to the emissaries from the Continent, Amren merely invited you to the next meeting. Which wouldn’t be for another week.

In the hours after you left, you’d tried over and over again to summon your power. You failed, miserably. So, you spent the rest of your evening at the Infirmary.

At least you were good for something.

Madja left you to your own devices, allowing you to tend to several patients—faerie and human alike; most of whom needed minor fixes. Fevers, muscle pain, nausea.

You worked and worked until the events of that morning were an afterthought. Until all you had to worry about was tending to each patient, and their needs.

Just one more patient for the evening, and then you could—

“Hello,” the spymaster of the Night Court greeted with a smile. He looked tired, more than what he usually seemed. Exhausted, even.

“Azriel. Are you alright?” You internally scolded yourself as the question came out. Obviously he wasn’t, if he was at the Infirmary.

Azriel smiled again. “I’m fine. I’ve been having headaches.”

“For how long?”

Azriel chuckled. “Centuries.”

“And you’re just now choosing to be treated for them?”

“They were manageable, before.”

“How long ago did they begin worsening?”

“About two months ago.” Azriel explained everything to you: the frequency of the headaches, the location, pain levels.

You left for a few minutes, returning a small tin. Azriel quirked a brow as you handed it to him, before opening it, revealing the salve inside. “This is supposed to help?” He sounded skeptical.

“Yes. It has peppermint and rosemary; both are effective at alleviating headaches.”

Azriel still didn’t seem convinced.

“Here, let me…” You dipped two fingers into the salve. Without thinking, you began gently rubbing it into his temples.

Azriel stiffened at first, but relaxed within seconds. A small sound came out of him, almost a purr. You smiled to yourself, continuing to apply the salve. “You’ll do this every morning and night, just for a few minutes.”

Azriel nodded in response. He looked almost offended as you pulled away, as though he wanted you to keep going. “Thank you,” he murmured.

“You might also consider getting enough sleep. Lack of rest will absolutely trigger headaches,” you said.

A smirk from Azriel. “How would you know if I get enough sleep?”

You smiled. “Takes one to know one.”

Azriel’s hazel eyes raked over your form. Something buried within you sang at the gesture, but you shoved it away, clearing your throat. “Is there anything else?”

“I don’t think so,” he replied, before standing.

Mother above, did he tower over you. He stood less than a foot away, now. Close enough that you had to tilt your head back to meet his eyes.

“Amren said you put on quite the show this morning,” Azriel said, his voice a bit lower than before.

“Did she?”

Azriel hummed. “The living room was no longer livable, when I arrived home this afternoon.”

Your face flushed. Azriel’s amusement increased at the sight of it. “It’s alright,” he said with a chuckle. “Amren and Cassian have torn apart entire buildings over mild disputes. You’ll fit right in.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but stopped short as one of Azriel’s shadows snaked up your arm, twirling around your hair; a gentle caress.

It was Azriel’s turn to flush. “I’m sorry.”

You grinned. “No need to apologize. I think they like me.”

Azriel studied you, the smallest smile gracing his lips. “Most people fear them.”

“There’s nothing to fear about them,” you replied simply. “They’re apart of you.”

“They are. Always will be.” The shadows slithered away, returning behind his shoulders. Azriel bowed his head in thanks. “Thank you for the salve.”

Azriel left before you could say anything more.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar headcanon #acotar fanfiction #acomaf #female reader #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #Azriel #shadowsinger #spymaster #acosf #acowar #acofas

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nunalastor · 1 month

Note

I present unto thee this persistent thought:

(Continuing the Fae-Owned-Alastor AU)

It doesn't take long for the rest of the Hotel to despise the new "guest."

Any time Alastor does literally anything, the "guest" is there to antagonize him. This "guest" seems to have no concept of boundaries when it comes to Alastor and Alastor, for some reason, is holding himself back from retaliating.

At least when Alastor fights with Lucifer, things still get done and the Hotel gets a show (despite how much Charlie wishes the fighting would stop, nobody can deny that it's entertaining). The "guest" so much as says Alastor's name and he's frozen.

When Vaggie catches the "guest" slipping a hand under Alastor's shirt, and Alastor is completely still save for distressed ear-twitching, she can't stop herself from decking the "guest" in the face and dragging Alastor to another room for a talk.

The "guest" is annoyed at Vaggie's actions, but doesn't follow them.

All Alastor can tell her, though, is that "names are power."

It's Lucifer that figures out what's going on, with a little help from Husk and Vaggie. Husk voices his concern that the "guest" may hold more power over Alastor than anyone else (he's careful not to say that Alastor is bound to a deal). The realization that this "guest" is a Fae, and that this Fae owns Alastor because Alastor introduced himself, is accompanied by red-eyed rage, hellfire, and concern from Charlie.

Lucifer goes on to explain that Fae are a big deal. They're divine beings, and even the weakest Fae are easily as powerful as Exorcist angels, however Lucifer doubts that this is a weaker Fae. The Fae have a lot of rules that they have to follow, but if you tell your name to a Fae then that Fae owns your soul.

The last time Lucifer met a Fae, it caused a massive diplomatic issue that resulted in a permanent cold war between Heaven and Tír Na Nóg.

Lucifer makes it abundantly clear that they need to use the Fae's rules in order to get the Fae to leave. Until they can accomplish that, however, they need to make sure that the Fae is never left alone with Alastor again.

To say Alastor was confused when Charlie suddenly decided to have Lucifer and Alastor share a room for bonding purposes would be an understatement.

(The Fae in the Hotel may or may not want Lucifer dead at this point.)

👀

#the fae #hazbin hotel #nunalastor asks #alastor #radioapple #lucifer #appleradio #radio apple #apple radio

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k-daydreams · 8 months

Text

Touch in the Dark: pt. i

Pairing: Rhysand x fem!Vanserra!reader

Based of this ask

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: abuse, angst, poorly proofread

Author’s note: I got really inspired w this one and got carried away per usual! This is going to be a mini fic at most a 3 part!!

⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃

The sensuous tremor of the music rumbled through the room. Another night for Amarantha to make a fool of someone, you thought as you arrived at her throne room with your brothers. You stood by Eris, a mask of a scowl on your face as you watched her court be merry—if that’s why you could call it. All dancing, grinding on one another, drinking the fae wine, and over indulging on food. To be so fortunate to think this prison was homely must have been an ignorant bliss you hadn’t had the privilege to think. You had hardly found the appetite to eat twice a day if it weren’t for your eldest brother and mother.

Years turned into decades, and the relentless tyranny of the red-headed woman felt like an eternity. As your brothers dispersed into the crowd, you remained with Eris. Due to Lucien’s escape from your father’s suffocating grasp, Eris became your closest ally.

“What’s your strategy for tonight?” Eris queried, both of you observing the crowd.

Nonchalantly adjusting your gown’s sleeves, you responded, “Check on mother, evade father and our brothers, and hope Amarantha doesn’t summon me.”

“Stay inconspicuous, Y/n,” Eris cautioned, his gaze piercing. “I’m serious.”

You scoffed, “Easier said than done.”

“Father’s aware of your recent…activities.”

You bit your lip, of course he did. He always learned what bidding Amarantha made you do—not like you could avoid it. Either suffer at the hands of that cruel woman or suffer from the hands of your father. You had experienced both, and your father’s sadist ways were getting off easy nowadays.

“You think our court’s morals matter down here, Eris?” You retorted curtly.

“You can still have modesty,” he bit back. “When we get out of here, nobody will ever want you after hearing how many nobles and lords you’ve bedded.”

Your eyes flashed with anger, “you know I have no say in the matter. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Pushing past him, you needed distance from the constant reminders of your grim reality.

Scanning the room, you took a wine-filled goblet from a passing servant. Settling at a secluded table, and sighing. You hadn’t known why Amarantha had made you one of her harlots. It took you years to comply with the bidding before finally letting go of your morality.

“I knew I could smell filth, Lady Fox.” A voice purred from behind you. You tensed as the Night Court High Lord, Rhysand, took a seat next to you. The despair you had felt turned into an ice with close proximity to the dark haired violet eyed male.

“Are you sure those aren’t Amarantha’s sheets you just rolled in that you’re smelling?” You replied smoothly.

He narrowed his eyes at you, “did Tarquin not satisfy you enough? Or did you not collect enough secrets for her liking last night and got punished?”

Rhysand could be insufferable. He had always held a disdain toward you, one that started as unwarranted until it was. You had once been a close friend to his cousin, Morrigan. Both of you were able to bond over the fact both your families hated females and only saw them as property and assets. Then your brothers had left her for dead in the woods of your court when they found she had been sullied. A note from her parents nailed to her womb.

You had mourned quietly for days for her, until Eris had broken through the wards you put up so no one could bother you. Everyone associated you to be just as cruel and nasty like your father and brothers—never taking into consideration you were your own person. Had considered the actions your family have done wounded you, and you always paid a price for them. No friends that weren’t actually friends, only scared of the consequences if they didn’t hang around you. No one you could trust without fear they’d report everything you have said to your family. That alone filled you with enough spite and resentment to become the vision everyone already had perceived you as.

“He was quite satisfactory,” you hummed, taking a sip from your glass. It was average at best, you wouldn’t let the deceitful high lord know.

Since you had been locked under this Mother forsaken place, he had been damn near the bane of your existence. Always going the extra mile to make this living nightmare a living hell for you. Poking and prodding you, knowing you couldn’t do much in retaliation.

He gave you a disgusted look and caught a servant on their way out of the room with a tray of drinks. He leaned over and plucked one off the platter like you had done prior. You couldn’t help but notice as he leaned over where his tattoos peaked from under his shirt, lashings danced over his taut back underneath the dark fabric. Your scowl had turned to frown.

“Did you not satisfy her majesty last night?” There was no venom to your words. You hadn’t known the prized possession of Amarantha had still been punished like her little spies and sex workers. You thought he got off easy since she still allowed him some of his magic, offered him one of the best suites in this prison, and more authority than anyone else down here.

He cooly leaned back, adjusting his shirt as if he knew what you saw. Then taking the drink down his throat in one gulp. He used his sleeve to wipe the drop that dropped from the corner of his mouth. His violet eyes meeting yours, a dangerous warning in those orbs.

“I wouldn’t go snooping around, Lady Fox.” Was all he said, getting up from the table and melded into the crowd of courtiers.

⭒❃.✮

The thin fabric worsened the sting of your back as it moved against the wounds that had been inflicted on you hours prior. You quietly snuck out of your family’s suite feeling suffocated being in the same vicinity as them. After the underwhelming festivities of the night your father had cornered you with your elder brothers in the suite, no Eris or your mother in sight. The poker from the fireplace in his hand, and your brothers ripping your dress down the back, constraining you.

The shame you brought upon this family was all that you could hear echoing off the halls, though they were eerily silent. Filthy whore scratching down your mind as the friction of fabric on your back reminded you of the burning iron that branded your skin. You had walked mindlessly through the halls, trying to escape your thoughts. To grasp whatever sanity was left in your mind. You no longer cried when punished, only letting the fire that was dampered for now simmer inside you. You learned crying only fed the cruelty of your father and brothers.

You sat at the top of the main staircase that led to all the suites under the mountain. You clenched your teeth, hissing, as you shrugged down the straps of your nightgown so the cold air could hit the hot wounds. Bending over, hugging your knees and rocking, getting accustomed to the chill.

“It’s not wise to be out of your suite at night, Lady Fox.” That familiar chastising voice filled the silent halls. You looked up to see Rhysand walking up the stairs towards you. You straightened up, wincing, tugging the straps up to your nightgown.

“Couldn’t I say the same?” You mustered a sneer. He was still in his clothes from earlier, slightly crumpled and wrinkled now. You could smell Amarantha on him, making your nose crinkle.

“Pain doesn’t suit you.” He said simply. “Take a walk with me.” He reached out. You hesitantly looked at his outstretched hand he offered. “I won’t bite or scold you.”

You let him take your smaller dainty hand into his rough calloused one. Fighting the seethe and sharp intake of breath as he helped you up, your muscles sore from exhaustion.

You two didn’t talk as he led you through the halls of suites. His hand still holding yours, you wondered if he had realized it. You were too numb to care or admit that warmth brought slight comfort.

“You’re not bringing me to her, are you?” You whispered. You two walked in a wing you weren’t familiar with, and your blood ran slightly cold with every step you took with the High Lord.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough fun tonight, Lady Fox?” The sarcasm dripped from his tongue. “I’m not as cruel as you Vanserra’s.” You gave him a side eye, him only offering a tight lipped smile.

He led you to a door, opening it and letting you in first. He closed the door, locking it behind him. With a snap of his fingers the fireplace roared to life, causing you to flinch. It was a bedroom. His bedroom.

“I didn’t realize you actually occupied your bedroom, I thought you rumpled about hers every night.” You said icily, taking all the details of the room in.

A large bed in the middle neatly made with dark silk sheets, a fur lined duvet, and a knitted throw blanket at the end. A dark mantled fireplace with a couple chairs in front. A wardrobe and dresser against the wall, and a door that you assumed led to a bathroom.

“She would be so fortunate to have me grace her bedroom every night.” A feline smile on his lips, his teeth brightly gleaming in the firelight. “Take a seat.” He made a gesture with his head to his bed. He walked through the door in the corner, hearing him rummage through some cabinets as you sat on the edge of the plush mattress.

Your bed wasn’t even this comfortable, you thought as you rolled your shoulders in discomfort. He came back out moments later with medical supplies and in some night clothes. He set them on the stand next to the bed, and sat next to you.

He went to reach for the straps of your nightgown, but pulled away slightly. “Do you mind?” He asked. You shook your head as you faced away from him. He took the straps and slid them down your arms. His touch was surprisingly gentle, being careful as the fabric slightly stuck to your wounds pulling your gown down. He cursed under his breath as he saw what your father had done. You're sure he had seen the healed wounds that littered your back as well, you had more than you could count by now from even before under the mountain.

Another silence had fallen upon the two of you, with only quiet hisses as he cleaned your back. Your eyes blankly staring at the poker by the fireplace.

The centuries of existence you would have never thought that Rhysand would be tending to your wounds—maybe causing them, but never gingerly applying tonic and bandages to your spine. Your shoulders tensed as he brushed some hair away, his fingers sending goosebumps down your arms.

“What would you do if we were finally freed?” He asked thoughtfully.

Your breath stilled at the question. “I-I don’t know.” You stammered.

“Would you leave the Autumn Court?” He dabbed at your back. You had thought numerous times about leaving. Like your brother had.

You cleared your throat, “I couldn’t leave my mother with them by herself.” Your father treated her atrociously, and she had been the only one to show you true love. You had often opted to take the brunt of your father’s brute behavior to save her from it, if you could help it. He only hummed in response at your answer.

“What would you do?”

“I would visit my mother’s old home in Illyria.” He didn’t hesitate with his answer. You bit your lip, you had heard from Lucien what happened about what happened to Rhysand’s mother and sister. You had thought your family had been cruel, but Tamlin’s were gods awful. Tamlin still proved to be awful, he was the reason you all had been under the mountain. You were able to at least sympathize with him on that.

“The Spring Court revels in anguish.” Was all you could say.

He chuckled darkly, “always. Reckoning will come for them soon.” All of you. It had been forty eight years of this curse, it was quickly creeping up to fifty. Soon everyone would feel that reckoning. He finished bandaging your back, smoothing them all over.

He got up to put the supplies away, leaving you awkwardly feeling exposed, sitting there with your nightgown only covering your lower half. You started to pull it up, but he came out with a dark cotton shirt. He handed it to you. His eyes stayed locked on yours as you took the shirt.

“You can sleep here, I’ll wake you before the servants and guards start roaming.” He told you as you slipped the shirt over your head, standing up to discard your blood stained nightgown from yourself. The shirt had stopped mid thigh, the cool air hitting your legs.

“Thank you,” you murmured as you set the soiled gown on the chair by the fireplace. “You didn’t have to help me.”

“She’s expecting you to do some bidding later. Can’t have you restless and burned. The scars should be gone by then.” He said void of emotion, but you saw a flash of something unreadable in those eyes as he spoke. He untucked the sheets and blankets for you.

There had been a reason for his motives in helping you, of course. Not just out of pure kindness. You felt stupid for not thinking of that in the first place.

“I’ll sleep in the chair.” He grabbed the throw.

You got in the bed, pulling the covers up, the feeling of the silk soft on your bare skin. “This is your bed, it’s big enough for us both.”

“Inviting me to bed already?” He smirked at you. Your cheeks heated in embarrassment, and he merely smiled walking to the other side. “No funny business.” He mocked sternly, slipping under the covers.

You rolled your eyes, before turning on your side away from him. “Goodnight.”

“G’night Lady Fox.” He snapped his fingers, the fire smoldering to just coals. Letting the sound of smoldering ember lull you to a restless sleep.

⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃

I hope you enjoyed the first part! Feel free to like, reblog, reply with feedback!! My requests are open to request any idea for fics, blurbs, or headcanons!!

#acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #rhysand x reader #rhysand acotar #Rhysand imagine #Rhysand x reader fic #acotar fic #Rhysand

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xoxoamyas · 5 months

Text

`` A Little Promise ,,

rating : more neutral zone than anything, potentially fluff leaning? petnames [ darling and dear ] are used on reader. there are mild hints to reader being a vampire.

fae!wilbur x vampire!gn!reader [ use of you/yours, no use of y/n ]

☆ . after some walking through the forest you come across a little ring. an odd little man pops from it and wants your name. <3

note : this is another potential series that I really liked, might continue it and go more in depth with it since that's what this is mostly set up for but i'm kinda uncertain about it right now.

masterlist [ ☆ ]

⋆˙⟡

You hadn't meant for this to happen.

You had been walking through the forest, clutching the light jacket you wore close to you. Pretending you were cold, wanting to feel just a bit more alive than you were. The moonlight shines through nicely through the tree's overhead, providing a soft light to walk with.

You hadn't realized it right away, but the ringing in your ears was enough to identify what you had nearly walked into.

You looked down at the ring of mushrooms, furrowing your brows. You were about a foot or so away from it, moving to back off since you were not in the mood to deal with some potential over their head prick of a fae.

Past experiences say to run, that you don't need a deal. Knowing better than that as you backed off, hoping you hadn't alarmed the fae that the ring belonged to.

Yet, of course, as you choose a new direction to go in, fate just loves you.

“Why hello there. Where are you headed at this time of night?” The Fae's accent throws you off, not used to such put together accents. Pausing in your steps, silently complaining as you begrudgingly turn a bit. Eyes flickering over the brunette within the ring.

He was definitely along the lines of being considered wealthy. He looked healthy, hair tended to and cared for, looking so soft and curly. A flower crown that was slightly tilted along his head, it was a wonder it hadn't fallen off. Ears pointed at the tips, visibly attentive. Brown eyed gaze flickering curiously over your form.

He definitely seemed deal deprived.

You can feel a slight twinge of annoyance, pushing it down just slightly. Never be rude to the fae. The words echo in your mind. There were too many rules to them, in your opinion.

“I'm just travelling by.” You hum, trying to humour him without seeming on edge. Briefly moving to hold your jacket closer to yourself, wanting nothing more than to disappear.

“So late? And alone at that?” His question made something uneasy roll through you.

“It's nothing to worry about, I'm fine travelling by myself.” The words fall off your tongue with ease, like honey made from a bee. Words you've said countless times before.

“Well, stay, have a chat. I'd love to make your acquaintance, assuming you're not in a hurry?” He's trying to smile, give a friendly appearance in contrast to looks given to you before.

You were already regretting humouring the man.

“Sure, I don't see why not.” You offer no more than a strained smile, trailing closer but staying out of arm's reach. Finding a conveniently placed rock to sit on, crossing your legs. “Where did you come from? You weren't there before I turned around.” You want to seem human, even if you knew there was an energy that differed between the alive and un-dead. Hoping that he wouldn't recognize the difference at all.

He just raises a brow, hiding any disappointment he had about you not stepping closer. Tilting his head as he just slightly leaned back and crossed his arms behind his back. He's looking for traces of something other than confusion.

“Certainly, you've heard of the fae before? As well as their realm?” Of course you had, but you don't answer right away. Purposely thinking a bit longer than necessary. “Tell me you're not oblivious.” He suddenly speaks with a more neutral tone, clearly unamused as he slightly squints his eyes at you.

“It's the twenty-first century, man, I dunno what to tell you. Fae aren't exactly discussed often.” You frown, shrugging a bit. It wasn't entirely true, but it wasn't a lie, either. You had spoken to theorists before, but never anybody on the younger side outside of those who wrote certain stories.

That.. clearly wasn't something that he liked to hear. You sit there and watch as he basically tensed up before forcing himself to smile and relax. He's visibly annoyed, and you're ready to skedaddle. You wish it was as easy as that.

“Well that's.. certainly something.” He moves to instead clasp his hands together in front of him.

There's an awful pause as you just let the fae collect his thoughts. Before you know it, he takes a steadying and more confident breath, smiling in a more natural and relaxed manner now.

“Darling, I have to ask,” He starts, voice smooth as the words fall out of his mouth with ease. You can feel the hair on the back of your neck stick up a bit. “What do I call you? If we're to be friends, I'd like to know what I can call my acquaintance.”

It's an odd feeling that suddenly goes through the air, the forest essentially growing silent around you both. He's giving a patient look, likely an illusion to hide any annoyance. You're just giving a fairly blank yet thoughtful look in return, to many years under your belt to know better than to give the fae your name.

“Well, there's plenty you could call me.” You hum just slightly, tilting your head the tiniest bit as your eyes flickered over him. Practically feeling the energy surrounding the small area's vicinity waver.

You weren't entirely lying, anyway. Especially since you've been called name after name by various people over the centuries.

Never give the fae your name, the words linger in your mind. A reminder not to trust the man with your name lest he gives his first.

“Your name, dear.” He's more to the point with it, trying not to seem dejected or frustrated that you hadn't just said your name.

“Well, what can I call you?” You ask, moving to rest your chin in the palm of your hand. Seeing the slight twitch to one of his hands, a moment of silent satisfaction flowing through her.

“Wil, you can call me Wil, darling.” He's trying to be charming, thinking he may get your name.

The name he gave you was nothing more than an incomplete name, a nickname. You just give him a nickname of your own in return, making you even. He recognized it instantly, a nickname you held close to you yet you hardly used or identified with.

“You don't trust me?” Wil asks, placing a hand over his heart as he frowns, feigning hurt.

“It's not that I don't trust you,” You frown a bit, standing from the rock after a second of glancing at the sky. “I just don't know you, and you don't know me.” When you look at him again, you almost regret speaking. A slight spark passed through his gaze.

“Then get to know me. Promise to come back again tomorrow night or the night after, talk with me. I'll be here, and I promise to be open with you in return.” There it is, the deal that he likely wants. A chance for him to get every piece of what he wanted from you. It makes you want to turn and run, but something about the idea is enticing.

You're severely going to regret this. “I promise to come back in a couple nights.” and just like that, the air settles as the deal is made. Feeling the magic snap and basically bond to your soul. Another burden to carry.

Wil is happy, though, practically unable to hold back a grin. “Oh, how lovely! I'll think of some things for us to talk about, then, darling. Just you wait.” There's something beneath his tone, worse than mischief.

“Alright.. I'll see you around, then.” You offer an awkward smile. Waving in return when he waves you off with his own big smile.

What did you just sign yourself up for?

You really needed a snack after that.

#amyas writes #x reader #fae wilbur #fae!wilbur #fae!wilbur au #fae!wilbur x reader #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x you

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kindasleepywriter · 5 months

Text

Bird of Prey - Chapter 5: Smoke and Fire

Bird of Prey masterlist. Azriel x Reader.

Chapter summary: A russet eyed friend welcomes you back. Heat overwhelms you and Azriel.

Story rating: Mature - Minors DNI

Warnings: Some smut. Mentions/flashbacks of past abuse. Slight fluff followed by a LOT of angst.

Word count: 2.7k.

Previous | Next

The bed was uncomfortable, too soft. Everything, in fact, felt too accommodating. You’ve been living in forest and mountain hideouts for decades now. Taking a hot bath felt wrong and wearing freshly washed clothes even more so.

In the wild, there is no such thing as clean. You can get close to it, certainly, but there was always a bit of grime that lingered in the handwashed cloth or the length of your hair. It didn’t bother you, as the absence of plumbing in the forests also meant a lack of people that would try and hurt you.

If you were being honest, the so-called normalcy of your new forced habits made you panic. You felt too exposed, too vulnerable. When you look like you’re not a part of common society, most people who were curious about the presence of a fae of your kind in other courts were too offput by your clear distance from common society. Too feral, too wild. But out there you were protected, you were safe, and you didn’t have to live your life waiting for another person to inevitably try to use you for their own gain.

You’d filled the tub with the coldest water the house could provide you with that morning.

You hadn’t missed your new markings, either. This was the first real bargain you’d ever made, having naturally made petty bets like all the other kids on childish games. This one, however, you would have to keep more than a few minutes.

You knew they went up to the base of your scull, but you hadn’t realized how far down your backs they reached. It looked like a long wisp of smoke, starting along your spine just above your rear, and trailed up until it disappeared in your hairline. You quite liked the design, honestly. You had seen some godawful ones in some very visible places, so you thanked the mother for the simple spine design. The way it trailed in between your wings, partially buried beneath soft feathers, made you quite content. You felt quite vain thinking it, but you thought it looked beautiful on you.

Azriel hadn’t visited you once for the first two days since the beginning of your stay. In fact, you hadn’t seen anyone but Cassian and Nesta, who alternated the role of babysitter with a great deal of annoyance. You got along relatively well with Cassian, if training together in silence could be considered as such. Nesta hadn’t exactly warmed up to you, but she’d stopped sneering at you every time she replaced Cassian. No conversations were had during those 48 hours, the house only resonating a tense silence except for when Cassian and Nesta spoke during dinner.

On the third day, however, the atmosphere completely changed. You were walking out of the sitting room towards the training grounds with Cassian, ready to beat your body into submission again, and as you traversed the main hall of the House of Wind, beating wings were heard, growing increasingly louder. The noise was followed by a voice calling out:

“Hey, Feathers, look over here!”

You turned around to the familiar voice, unable to resist grinning at the newcomer – Lucien. You couldn’t believe it. It must’ve been at least 300 years since you had last saw him. The second he landed and jumped out from the arms of the Illyrian who had carried him, Azriel, he started running towards you at full speed. You braced for impact as he collided with you, sending you both tumbling to the ground, holding on tightly to each other. You both sat up, still in an embrace.

“God, you don’t know how much I missed you, I thought you were dead!”, he exclaimed, his face solidly buried in your hair.

You let out a laugh. “Come on Kit, did you really think I’d go through all that we did just to die on you? Be realistic, please.”

He separated from you holding your face in his hands, pushing his forehead to yours.

“From the ashes and smoke-”, he began.

“-rises the fiercest fire.”, you finished softly. “I remember, Kit.”

“I thought you were gone, Feathers.”, he said, his voice shaking. “No one had seen you, even Amarantha couldn’t find you, I thought it was over.”

“I followed our deal, I always made sure someone could inform you if a mission went wrong. I’d never leave you in the dark like that, Lucien.”

You both finally separated, standing again, still holding on to each other’s forearms. You looked him over, shocked to see how different he looked.

“Gods, what happened to your eye?”, you exclaimed as you cradled the left side of his face and softly ran a finger along his scar, “What Puca did you piss off this time?”

“Ha! well, not-so-funny story-”

A loud Ah-um reminded you both that you were in the presence of other people. Cassian looked at you both incredulously, while Azriel’s were narrowed and fixed on Lucien.

“When you said you knew her, you didn’t mention you two had… history.”, the Shadowsinger declared.

You and Lucien burst into laughter again.

“Wait you think that he- that we-”, you let out, wiping at your eyes as tears leaked out of them, unable to complete the sentence as you fell victim to another fit of laughter.

Lucien looked torn between amusement at your reaction and panic “Oh gods no, never- don’t try to imply that to Elain, I swear to you I’ve never touched her that way in my entire life!”, he rather suddenly exclaimed.

You, finally calming down and only chuckling, let out: “I can’t believe you would keep our eternal love a secret, Lucien, I wouldn’t have told my father to prepare for a proposmmm-”

Lucien had clasped a hand over your mouth, clearly not happy with your sarcasm, worry in his eyes.

“You’re not helping, Feathers.”

Oh. You’d forgotten one crucial piece of information in the shock of seeing him: he was mated and, if the rumors were true, it was to the third Archeron sister, the one you hadn’t met yet. Elain, apparently. You brought up two hands in a peace gesture, and he let you go with a friendly shove. “Sorry, Sorry, should’ve read the room. You do have to tell me about her Luc, I’ve only-”

“While this reunion is clearly the height of fun for you both, Lucien came here for a reason, he’s the one who’s supposed to watch over you for the next few days, although I’m now heavily doubting that decision.”, Azriel interrupted. You scowled.

“Ah come on Az, let them have their little reunion, they clearly haven’t seen each other in years”, Cassian said, “She hasn’t done anything troublesome since she’s been here, and I think she talked more in the last five 5 minutes than she has in the last three days. How about you cut her some slack. Oh, also, being able to go to the loo alone would also be an appreciated gesture. It gets awkward fast when you listen to each other pee.”

Azriel didn’t look pleased. “Fine. As long as she stays in this house.”, he gritted out.

He glanced at the others before marching himself over to you, taking your wrist and almost dragging you to another hallway. You looked over your shoulder at Lucien, hoping he might try and stay something, but he was only watching with amusement. Traitor.

The Shadowsinger led you into a room at the end of the corridor, pushing the door closed and turning you around, trapping you between his body and the door, his hands resting on the wood on both sides of your shoulder. He wasn’t much taller than you, your Peregryn genes made sure of that, but he had his wings flared wide behind him. Consequently, the only thing you could see was him and his shadows. Not that they were very intimidating, mind you, only curiously climbing up your arms and settling on your shoulders. They were cold but almost… comforting. They reminded you of the winds of the Illyrian mountains when winter was just settling in.

You battled the urge to also spread your wings and physically push him back, but you took every ounce of patience you had to keep yourself calm. He couldn’t hurt you; he was just trying to look more intimidating. You could handle that. He looked furious.

“What the hell was that back there with Lucien, huh?”, he growled, “Involving yourself with a mated male?”

“By the mother, you really think we were together, don’t you?”

“Well, you two were certainly acting like it, Feathers.”

You gritted your teeth. Yes, you and Lucien had nicknames for each other, but it wasn’t like that.

“We’ve never laid together, we never will, and I’m not lying!.”

“You better not be. He’s already lived too much pain for the sake of his bond, and I will NOT have you destroy all the effort he and Elain have put in to reach where they are now.”

Pain, for his mating bond? You’d have to ask Lucien about it later, but Azriel sounded so angry about the past events that you doubted you’d get full answers- relationship troubles had never been your forte, not really a model of the healthiest relationship back then, and Lucien had never felt the need to come to you for those types of things. Some things were too personal, even between you two.

“Look, we were barely out of our teenage years when we met! I was in an unfamiliar court for a man that didn’t give me the time of day despite our engagement. I was harassed constantly by all the other Vansera brothers, just like Lucien. We were scared and we were alone.”

Your voice cracked, and you took a breath, trying to steady it. You were shivering with anger, despite the shadows around you attempting to soothe you, caressing your neck. You wouldn’t have anyone try to twist your relationship with Lucien, he was the only real family you had left. Time hadn’t changed that, and neither would empty threats.

“We protected each other until the end. We were going to make it out of there alive no matter what it took, and we did. He’s the only reason why I made it out. So, before you start throwing accusations of situations you have absolutely no idea about, learn to trust your fucking friends. Doesn’t he deserve that, at the very least?”

The both of you were breathing hard, both absolutely on edge. You had no idea what was happening to you, you felt like your insides were catching on fire. You hadn’t let yourself feel in years, and this… rage, within you, it suffocated you, it was too. much.

Your faces were only inches from each other, staring into each other’s eyes. His were hazel. You hadn’t noticed that before.

You had no idea who lunged first, but suddenly were brushing against Azriel’s torso as your lips collided. His hands dropped from the door to your hips, pressing you fully against his chest as one of yours reached for the base of his neck and the other his hair, tugging him closer. If you’d felt like fire before, now you were consumed by the sun itself. Every inch of you was burning from his touch, too much and not enough all at once. His lips moved against yours in a relentless battle, neither letting the other take control. His shadows covered the both of you. You could feel them trailing along your skin, the only source of relief from the heat burning through you.

His hands gripped your backside harshly when you thrust your hips up into him, and you let out a soft moan of pleasure at the contact. He didn’t waste a second, using the opportunity to thrust his tongue into your mouth, sliding against yours as he let out a groan. Something in the back of your mind was trying to get you to stop this, to escape, but you ignored every warning.

Your scents had sharpened, arousal flooding the both of you, mist and cedar overtaking your senses. He tugged at your thighs and you immediately obeyed, jumping to secure your legs around his waist. He crossed the room and deposited you on a wooden surface- a desk? A table? It didn’t really matter. He fit himself between your legs as your lips continued their furious movement, only halting to breathe before you started again, while you slid your hand down his front, feeling every inch of muscle that wasn’t covered by his thick Illyrian leathers. You could feel him against your core, the visible proof of his arousal providing you with only the slightest friction.

His right hand trailed down to your hip and then down between your legs. His thumb pressed ever so softly on your bundle of nerves through your thin pants and panties, and just that had you letting out a low cry against his mouth. He softly shushed you, his teeth nipping your bottom lip.

He reached for your back again, and you arched as you waited for him to pull you closer, but instead you felt his fingers softly brush the back of your wings, treading lightly over the sensitive spot where white feathers connected with delicate skin, making you shudder.

Instantly afterwords, it felt like a cold shower had rained down on you. His hand had trailed up almost exactly to the area where an Illyrian could be clipped- the most vulnerable part of their wing. A Peregryn’s anatomy wasn’t quite the same but whether he knew it or not, the message was the same: he had you completely at his mercy. Gone was the pleasurable consuming heat, replaced by white-hot panic. What was happening to you, letting him touch you, your wings? He was part of the Inner Circle, he contributed willingly to the suffering of thousands of women in this Court, and now he was willing to use those same wings as a sexual tool. Absolutely. Not.

You swiftly pushed him off and jumped down what you could now see was a desk, breathing erratically. Your wings reflexively tucked themselves so tight against your back it felt like you were going to pull a tendon; you leaped across the room making your way to the door.

“Wait!”, he called, his voice scratchy, a hand closing against your wrist. You glanced at him, looking up to see him shocked, concern lacing his eyes. Your fear increased tenfold.

“I can’t- You’re- , FUCK, don’t you dare touch me.”

You harshly tugged your hand out of his, running towards your bedroom at full speed, immediately locking the door behind you. You silently slid to the floor, your back against the door and tears filling your vision as you replayed what had just happened repeatedly. How had you lost control so easily?

Your feathered wings stretched around you as you tried to soothe yourself. You were itching to jump straight off the room’s balcony, let the air stretch your neglected muscles and fly back to the same caves and mountains where no one would find you, but you simply could not, all because of that stupid bargain.

Your hands reached the tendons and muscles of your wings, trying to ground yourself in the present. He couldn’t hurt you; he couldn’t even touch a single feather if you didn’t want him to. Your wings were safe, you were still free, they didn’t know. There weren't sharp hands tugging at your feathers in reminder of your forced submission, no one holding you down as you begged for mercy. You sat there, obsessively running your fingers through the feathers, feeling each and every one you could reach until you let yourself fall to the side, your wings still cocooned around you as you stared at the opposite wall in silence.

In your panic, you hadn’t noticed the doorknob’s wooden surface had smoked beneath your hand in the study. Someone else had.

I couldn't help posting it early!

Many revelations in this chapter! I had absolutely not planned the study scene to be so steamy but sometimes you have something planned and the story decides it knows better than you x)

Please let me know what you think!! This is my first time writing anything explicit, I'd love to hear how it reads <3

Banner created by the amazing @saradika!

Taglist: @sapphenaa

#azriel x reader #azriel #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar fanfic #azriel fanfic #azriel POV #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #enemies to lovers

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quiteliterallyilliterate · 3 months

Note

Omg I saw that you were taking requests- how do you feel about me requesting yandere platonic Malice Link but specifically Fae!Hyrule. I imagine it would take place or at least their first encounter would be in a forest. Since it’s Malice!Link there would probably be at least some hostility at first with the reader walking a tight rope of emotions. But it basically evolves from that to subtle manipulation not even realizing it’s gone from 0-100 with hostility turned into possessiveness.

Order up!

Love this request so much oh my gods!! Hope you enjoy it~

Tw: Yandere, mentioned murder

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

The forests here were quiet— and dead. It’s the best way to explain it, but to some extent one would inevitably lead you to assume another. The forest was hauntingly absent of the chitter from its animals and the wind was dead from the sky— it naturally leads one to assume that there is no life within the woods. It would’ve turned most away from making their way through the thorn bushels and further into the forest itself. Or, rather, it should’ve turned you away, you should’ve known better. Bad things happen to the people that go into these woods. But alas, the sun was high and the morning was fresh and some old maidens tale about silly fairies wasn’t going to keep you from some wild berry pie.

There was someone new in his woods. Hyrule had really thought people had learned their lessons by now. Usually the glowing red pools of malice and gloom would steer them off course far enough to walk right back into their own village. The sharp-toothed mouths in the trees drive fear into the heart of any hunter and the sensation of the yellowed eyes watching make any animal prey. And yet, the new animal sauntered through his woods, basket looped around their elbow. Their blood was untainted, it rushed through them beat by beat, the sound filling his ears. They drove his senses haywire, leaving behind a trail that he felt compelled to follow.

The bushes were full of freshly ripened berries, their skins a vibrant glossy mauve. Your basket was filled when you turned to see a person, standing wide eyed behind you. He looked pale, cheeks slightly sunken, light brown hair tousled and with a stare so intent, you felt as if you should’ve expected him to have said something. And yet he stared with unblinking hazel-blue eyes, a single fang pushing over his lip.

“Are you alright?” You could’ve smacked yourself right then. Sneaking into a supposedly haunted forest and seeing a man stare at you, and your first words are ‘are you alright’?

“No” He clutches his sides slowly, sharp nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. With no other real idea of what to do, you hold out your basket of berries —which also included some honey to preserve a few of the berries in— to which he looks inside cautiously. You get a closer look at him and see the freckles dotting his cheeks and the fact he looks dangerously thin. Your eyes catch on a violently red looking scar lining his chest, but when you shift to get a closer look, he darts back. You open your mouth to say something, and yet he’s already back within the woods.

He hated himself. Hyrule doesn’t really recall if he did before, but he most certainly does now. As it turned out, the new person prancing through his forest was not a hunter like the hundreds of others since. You did not come with iron chains and steel blades with the hopes of his death bringing honor to your name. No. You were the closest thing to acceptance he’s had in a long while. Maybe you were a fool. Maybe you were meant to s- He wasn’t meant to be saved. He cut the thought short. He was cursed now, baneful hatred blotting out his mind until he’s not sure what’s him and what’s it. He’d slaughtered the many men that came through his lands like they were no more than mice or minish. It was easy. And yet, as your hand shifted slightly while holding a basket, he bolted like he was the mouse —prey hiding from their death. It didn’t make sense. He wasn’t supposed to crave to be liked. He was supposed to be hated— to be feared. It’s what kept him alive for so long. It makes no rhyme nor reason that you’d care for a cursed creature such as himself. Even if the malice didn’t rip at his skin to make scars and it didn’t taint what was once good and kind into gloomy and miserable, He still couldn’t be loved by you. He was fae. His kind was supposed to trick foolish humans and toy away with their lives. He was supposed to bend his words so you’d agree to a promise sealing your fate to some comical story book ending where he gains the upper hand. And yet, he found himself mulling over the curiosities in your eyes, the purse of your lips, the thump of your heart. All things that —down to his very anatomy— he was supposed to hate. And yet he could not bring himself to. Whatever fleshy scraps were left of his heart were reaching through the cracks in his ribs toward you. He hated it. He hated the way his heart raced when hearing your familiar father-light steps. He hated the way he bore a sharp toothy grin upon seeing your return. Those teeth were meant to cut and kill, not simply be means to an expression. He hated that the honey you left him, infused with wild berries, was so sweet. He hated it was an appeasing offering to him. Maybe to some sense you were a hunter. And what an odd hunter you were to aim for his heart in such a manner.

And yet you persisted. Weekly or so you made a good habit to leave some food for the frail man you saw. You’re not sure why exactly you felt inclined to do so. Guilt, perhaps, he looked rather shaken by you shifting slightly, the last you could do was provide him with some good meals. There wasn’t any good food aside from the plants in the forest anyway, and that wouldn’t keep someone as frail as him alive. You saw more of him. It was slow, a hand taking the food a few minutes after you set it down, a cautious look shared before he scurried away. He’d come out of whatever tree or bush he’d been hiding in before claiming whatever prize you got. And eventually he’d even sit with you as he ate. You were slow, always keeping the same distance and dropping off the food at the same bush you met him. You learned the reason why the old wives of your village told you to stay away from the forest for what may be within. There was evil within the marred roots of every sickly tree and the man in front of you, while not really a man, was sick. And yet like any sick thing the world told you to ignore, he proved he was worth saving. He gathered his own little silly silver gifts to give and kept you safe while you foraged through the night. When you ran out of ear space for the little hoops he gave you rings, all in your size and he didn’t question why you came running, clothes in hand with a mob behind you. Instead he protected you, cradling your shaking body.

His eyes, glinting yellow, bore into the crowd which chased his love right to him. It was quite a strain, he’d admit. First whispering to the weavers, spinning stories of how you’d betrayed your better judgment and was lured into the woods. To them you were cursed just as he was, and so, you were exiled to much the same fate. But you needn’t worry, you mustn’t. He knows which herbs and incantations lessen the malice’s bite. You’ll be safe here with him. Maybe not happy for a while, but it’s not like you have another option aside from him. With rings on your finger and matching curse bound in blood, he dragged you to the little den he’d prepared for him and his spouse. Not quite the storybook ending.

#yandere link x reader #linked universe #link x reader #yan!link #yan!hyrule #yan!hyrulexreader #fae!hyrule #fae!hyrulexreader #malice!link #malice!linkxreader #lu hyrule #lu hyrule x reader

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deadeyedfae · 2 months

Text

One day I’ll be the Emo Girl of my dreams 😍💜

#transgender #queer artist #transfem #small artist #lgbtq #artists of tumblr #furry #lgbtqia artist #deadeyedfae #dead eyed fae #dead eyed bunnies

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twstwinnie · 1 year

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♚ With You ~ Lilia Vanrouge

summary: in a relationship with Lilia! usual three categories: pining, confession, and dating! while this should be a given, I’ll say it explicitly here: the reader is an adult in this given Lilia’s age <3 whether they’re a third year like Leona, or the prefect, is up to you as the reader!

tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, mutual pining, gn! reader

a/n: OK SO. this was a request from the comments (I do read those!) also, i was inspired to write for Lilia because I have a friend who really loves him, and i too love the bat boy! so, consider this a sort of love letter to Lilia as a character! For requests, Sebek is likely next, though feel free to lmk what y’all wanna see in asks/comments! enjoy!! special thanks to my beloved Lilia lovers for giving me inspo xx — winnie ♥︎

♚ starry - eyed !

» Unlike many other students at NRC, Lilia is one of few who’s fully aware of how he feels about you. He’s been alive long enough to recognize the signs— a quickened heartbeat, his eyes lingering on you for a few moments too long, even the way he seeks out your company in his free time.

» While, yes, he’s aware of his feelings, he’s stopped dead in his tracks by fear. It’s such a silly thing to him, really, but he can’t help it. He finds himself afraid that his lifespan might scare you off. Sure, he’s probably not got very long left, but in comparison to your human lifespan— it’s still quite a bit longer. Would you be alright with that? Or would his practical immortality be a dealbreaker?

» He knows that you accept him despite your difference in species, but would that translate if he was romantically interested? He hasn’t a clue, and so he’s bitten his tongue about how he truly feels— hiding behind a mask of teasing and jokes for the time being.

» Yes, teasing. No amount of reservations towards confessing could ever stop Lilia from teasing you. If anything, it only causes his teasing to increase, eventually evolving into something a bit more flirtatious.

» When you’re engrossed in any type of study at the library, he’ll appear in front of you, floating upside down with a wide grin on his face. When you jump back, startled, he merely laughs and comments on how cute you look when you’re focused.

» Sometimes, when you’re walking to class or back to your dorm, he’ll jump out and hug you from behind, near-tackling you to the ground. And though you’re always startled, you always know it’s Lilia hugging you. You’ll just let out a laugh, turn around, and hug him right back. The first time it happened, Lilia couldn’t help his shocked expression, easily melting into your warmth. Now, it’s exactly what he wants and expects when he does this. After all, hearing your laughter and gentle tone as you return his hug is always worth it to him.

» Despite all of this, though, he can’t find it in him to confess— convinced that you two are better off as friends. Who knows what the future holds? Human lives are already so delicate— would it truly be worth it for what’ll feel like a flash of happiness?

» This point comes up when he’s playing online games with Idia. Honestly, he doesn’t quite expect the conversation to take such a turn, but it does.

» “Red, you’ve been a lot less active lately. Kind of an L… but I guess it’s to be expected since you’ve got that partner of yours. Meh. At least you seem happier,” Idia comments. Lilia audibly hums, hands pausing on his keyboard.

» “Ah, you’re mistaken, Shroud. They aren’t my partner— just a friend! Much like you!” Lilia chimes. Idia lets out a quiet, disgruntled sound on the other end.

» “Uh, yeah, pass. We aren’t friends like that. I’m not blind, Lilia. Everyone sees how you look at them. If you were like that with me I’d be weirded out… but uh, why haven’t you told them anyway?” Idia idly questions, and Lilia sighs.

» “Well, us fae have prolonged lifespans. I can imagine that’d be a dealbreaker for most. I’m fine just being their cutest friend!” Lilia hums, but he can practically hear Idia’s eyes roll from the other end.

» “That’s a load of BS. Look, I’m not good at IRL romance, but from what I’ve seen in games, love interests get totally peeved when you try deciding things for them! The, uh… fae-immortality thing. Have you ever even talked to them about it?”

» That made Lilia pause. Well, he supposed he hadn’t really mentioned it to you… but he’d always assumed based on what he’d heard from so many others that you’d believe the same. Before he could respond, Idia continued.

» “And like, OP immortality stuff aside, that last line is a total lie. Are you really fine being stuck all friend-zoned? Can you handle someone else sweeping them away from you? And in the future, what if you aren’t even close? I doubt losing the route is better than, I dunno, trying?” Idia mumbles. Lilia takes a moment to process before letting out a bright laugh.

» “You should speak your mind like this more, Idia,” Lilia mentions.

» “In person? Uh, yeah, no way.”

» The conversation sticks with him, though. Idia is right. Lilia can never possibly know how you feel unless he confesses to you. Even if the future may be uncertain, the thought of losing you— of no longer having you by his side— wasn’t worth it. If confessing meant he’d have a chance to stay with you for the rest of your life, then he’d risk it.

» He’d never met anyone as kind, caring, and understanding as you. Not only did you listen to his many stories from his lifespan, you never doubted any of it for a second. You always give his cooking a try even though you know it’ll be less than edible, but you never judge him. You give him pointers, help him in the kitchen, and dutifully support him in his improvement. Sometimes, you’ll cook for him when he’s a bit too tired to give it another shot.

» You happily joke with him, tease him, compliment him, and spend time with him without a care for what his status used to be. When people warn you of “Diasomnia’s Powerful Vice Housewarden,” you look the other way. You don’t see his titles, his power— you just see him. You adore him not because he could crush you in an instant, but because you’ve become friends with the playful fae that he is.

» In his entire life, he’s met very few people as kind as you. However, you’ve been the one of the only ones to see and embrace all sides of him. Whether he’s fighting for his loved ones, or on stage with the rest of the Light Music club— you accept him.

» In the past, he’s made the mistake of letting go of the ones he loves. Because he thinks it’s better for them— because he feels that he’s dangerous or a dealbreaker. This time, he’s determined to do things differently.

» He wants it to be your choice. You’ve respected him and his choices, so he owes you the same treatment. This time, it’ll be different.

» He’ll confess to you properly and hear your answer. He just hopes it’s the one he also wants to hear.

♚ say the words !

» Lilia hasn’t properly confessed to someone in ages. He isn’t above asking for help should he need it, but it’s more of a matter of who to ask. Surely not his fellow Diasomnia members— they didn’t have as much romantic experience. Idia’s knowledge extends only to virtual games, so eventually, he settles on asking his clubmates.

» When he presents his issue, he’s surprised to find Cater gaping at him, Kalim equally as shocked. Just as Idia had, they assumed that you were already dating him. (Just how many people thought this?)

» After their shock subsided, Cater was more than happy to assist, along with Kalim. Lilia’s courting knowledge was vast, but much of it was outdated. He didn’t want to scare you off, so he wanted to learn some of the more modern methods of courtship.

» Though, both of the suggestions he received fell flat. Cater suggested a very Magicam worthy date, while Kalim suggested a carpet ride of sorts. They both offered to assist with their respective ideas, but Lilia couldn’t accept. None of it felt right. While he was sure both ideas would impress you, it didn’t feel authentic.

» As much as Lilia loved to tease, he wanted this confession to be serious— to be personal. He didn’t want to pretend to be someone he wasn’t. Eventually, he asked Silver for help. Surely, he’d have some insight considering how well he knew Lilia.

» “Have you considered just using one of the methods you already know, father?” Silver asks with a tilt of his head.

» “I’m afraid all of my methods are rather outdated for this day and age, Silver,” Lilia muses. Silver responds with a small sigh and shakes his head.

» “So? They know who you are already, right? Even if the method’s a little outdated, it’ll be true to yourself. They’ve gotten to know you, so I doubt they’d expect something modern anyway,” Silver finishes. Lilia’s eyes widened and he smiled. Of course, how could he forget?

» You already knew of his vast experiences across countless years. Perhaps, trying to adapt to a modernity he was unfamiliar with simply wasn’t right. He’d confess to you in a way that felt true to him. He was certain you’d understand.

» Eventually, Lilia settled on something true to his Briar Valley roots. Rather traditional, but it was still romantic to him. He’d enchant a briar rose, wrap it in the twine from a spinning wheel, and seal it in a glass case. Then, when the moon was high in the sky, he’d present it to you. Should you return his feelings, the rose would live on. If not, it would wilt away.

» The story such a tradition originated from resonated with him. Someone beautiful and bright falling for someone considered a monstrous outcast. It was quite touching. He wasted no time in gathering his materials, going as far as to travel back home for a moment to find the most beautiful rose for the confession.

» Once finished, he enchanted the rose, imbuing it with his magic— his wish to be with you for the rest of your eternity. Then, the briar rose was tied with twine and sealed away into the glass case. With a smile on his face, he waited as night fell, then sought you out.

» Luckily, your light was on, though dim through your window. Tapping lightly on the glass, he tested to see if you were awake. The sudden noise startled you, but you knew only one person who could possibly visit you this late at night. And enter through your window, no less!

» “Lilia? It’s late, why are you here?” you question in a hush tone, moving to the side to allow him entry into your room. He slips in, grinning as he presents you the rose.

» “As is Briar Valley tradition, I can only present this to you at night. I hope you don’t mind the intrusion,” Lilia says, watching your expression carefully. Your eyes widen as you take the encased rose, observing it closely.

» “It’s beautiful. What’s the occasion? Did something happen?” you ask with a light laugh as you scan the flower. Before he can answer, your eyes widen as you seemingly put the pieces together.

» “Wait… you’ve mentioned this. This is a Briar Rose, right? The string wrapped around it… the glass… Briar Valley tradition— ah! Are you…?” your voice trails off as your face flushes. Lilia merely grins, eyes glinting with mischief.

» “Am I what, dearest?” he questions with a teasing tone. You shake your head and laugh, covering your face a bit.

» “Is this… a confession?” you whisper. Lilia’s eyes soften and he approaches you, placing his hands over yours as he peered into the glass at the rose.

» “How observant. You really do listen to me! This is a confession. I’m terribly in love with you. You’ve invaded my every thought before I could think to stop you! So I’ve decided to tell you. I know my nature can be a bit… alarming, but I wanted to tell you anyway. Silly, isn’t it?” Lilia says softly.

» “It isn’t silly, Lilia. And of course it’s mutual. For as omnipotent as you tend to be at times, you’re a little clueless, aren’t you?” you respond with a warm laugh. Lilia looks at you and tilts his head.

» “What do you mean?” he asks.

» “I’ve liked you for a long time now. Have you ever noticed my advances? I don’t treat you like I treat my other friends, y’know! Plus, the whole immortality thing doesn’t scare me… no part of you ever could,” you say. Lilia processes for a moment before beaming with a sharp grin.

» “Oh really? You’ll be stuck with me for quite some time? Are you truly ready to have such a cute, wonderful partner for the rest of your life?” he teases. You merely smile, placing the rose to the side. Pulling him into a tight hug, you gently nod.

» “I’ve been ready for quite some time now. I’m more than happy to call you mine.”

» Lilia melts into your embrace and lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding in. All of his memories of you come flooding into his mind. He’d been too afraid of judgment to notice at the time, but now he could see it— the way you reserved your brightest smiles for him. The way you’d gently lean into his side when sitting together— even the way you’d watch after Silver on his behalf.

» You’d loved him for quite some time, and now he could finally say that you were his. He’d have you by his side— and he could look towards the future with no regrets, knowing you’d be there.

♚ at last, with you !

» After you two officially start dating, Lilia acts more or less the same, however, in addition to his usual teasing, he becomes a lot more comfortable being openly affectionate with you.

» Are you walking beside him? His hand is intertwined with yours, then. Just sat down with your friends for lunch? Expect him to hug you from behind and kiss your temple as a greeting. Are you having a study session? Well Lilia’s there, leaned against your side and resting against you as you work. Lilia loves affection, so he gives you plenty of it.

» While he usually initiates any affection, if you ever initiate it first, it makes him incredibly happy. If you reach for his hand first, or greet him with a kiss, he always gets a wide grin and teases you about it. He’ll joke that you actually do love him, and that you must be head over heels for him to initiate such sweet affection. Once he manages to get your face to flush under his relentless teasing, he’ll let up and ask you to do whatever affection you initiated again.

» With how touchy he is, it’s only natural that people find out that you two are actually dating now. Because of your increased presence in Diasomnia, Silver, Malleus, and Sebek are quick to find out.

» Silver and Malleus are entirely supportive. Silver can visibly see how happy you make his father. Lilia spends less time alone nowadays, so Silver doesn’t have to worry about him as much anymore. He knows you’re a great match for Lilia given how much you care for him. Plus, your cooking is easily much better than his dad’s, but hey! Your presence has also made Lilia’s food more tolerable, so Silver’s content.

» Malleus is glad that Lilia’s found someone who respects him, but also accepts his more peculiar aspects. It’s something Malleus often struggled with himself, typically only having Lilia to turn to. In you, Lilia has found a partner, but Malleus has also found a cherished friend. You respect him, invite him out, and listen to him just as you do with Lilia. With such a kind soul, it’s only natural Lilia was drawn to you. So long as you two take care of one another, Malleus is certain that it’s a bond that’ll last a long time.

» Sebek is a different story. He’s at war with his internalized hatred against humans. He wants to respect Lilia’s choice, but he struggles to understand why at first. So, at the beginning he’s weary— closely watching your every move. Instead of finding flaws, he comes to realize why Lilia chose you. You don’t use him for his power, you engage with him and his hobbies, and you even watch after Malleus and Silver. With time, Sebek warms up to you. Of course he does! Perhaps, not all humans are bad. You’ve certainly proved that to him.

» His dormmates’— well, family’s approval is all that Lilia needs to know he’s made the best decision possible for himself. You fit right into his small family, as if you were always meant to be there. You fit right into his life, actually.

» You’re always in the crowd during his Light Music club performances. During the Magift tournaments, you’re in the crowd, cheering his name. Even when he finds himself busy with schoolwork, you’re there— sitting across from him as you work on your own assignments. He’s become so used to your presence in his daily life, but he does love dates with you, as well.

» Designated time to spend with one another. Naturally, he very much enjoys spending time alone with you. More often than not, you two have date nights in. Playing games, watching movies, staying up— it’s all a bit juvenile, but Lilia’s proud of his childish side. Plus, as long as you’re having fun, then it’s worth it.

» He loves those nights so much. Laying side by side after the movies are over, curled up together and having hushed conversation. It’s his favorite. You’ll share your dreams— your aspirations in the dark of the night. Lilia shares his experiences, the things he’s seen that he can’t wait to show you. It helps him visualize the vast future you both have ahead of you— the experiences he has yet to have. It makes him excited, but as much as he wants to see it, he’s content with time passing slowly by your side. As long as he’s with you, he’s happy.

» However, for as much as you two play around, for as much as you both cause chaos together— it isn’t all bright and sunny. Lilia is prone to painful nightmares— memories of his past dredging up and meshing with his recent memories. He’ll dream of losing Silver, Sebek, Malleus— even you— to a war much like the one he’d experienced. During those nights, he’s lucky if he gets even a single hour of sleep.

» You always seem to notice, though. In the morning, you’ll see his tired expression. No matter how much he tries to cover it with a grin, you see right through him. You never judge him or pity him, though. You merely guide him back to his room— school forgotten in favor of a day of healing. You’ll lay him down, remaining by his side as you run your fingers through his hair.

» “I’m here, and you aren’t gonna lose me. We’ve still got a lifetime ahead of us. You can rest. I’ll be here by your side when you wake up.”

» Your soothing words always put a smile on his face. He’ll hold you a little tighter as he drifts back to sleep, knowing that you’ll be there to comfort him should his nightmares wake him up again. On the days that his terrors do startle him awake again, you’re right there— gently rubbing circles into his back as he tells you what he saw. No matter how horrifying the nightmare, your smile remains as you comfort him— assure him that it won’t happen. Lilia will not lose you.

» You’ll always lighten the mood after, teasing him and insisting that he cannot be rid of you that easily. It always puts a smile on Lilia’s face, causing him to quirk a brow and question as to whatever could’ve possessed you to think that’d he’d want you gone?

» After some shared laughter as well as a few playful fights, Lilia manages to relax, night terrors long forgotten in favor of your warmth and comfort.

» Your comfort is so important to him. Of course, he loves being reassured that you won’t go anywhere, but it goes deeper than that.

» At NRC, Lilia is regarded as a terrifying fae with extensive abilities. Though he frequently jokes about his age, there are very few who actually believe him. Most think he’s merely joking— thus his struggles often go unnoticed. After all, someone that powerful couldn’t possibly be affected by loss after experiencing so much of it, or, he must be lying! He looks far too young to have been in any sort of war!

» As much as he tends to laugh it off, it gets to him. He’s forced to hold back— unable to express that emotional side of him. All people see is the conniving, teasing third year. If he ever expressed his painful experiences from his past, he’d likely be called a liar. In truth, he isn’t. And loss doesn’t hurt any less just because he’s strong. The sting of loss hurts just as much the first time as it does countless times after.

» And you understand that. You believe him. With a gentle smile and soft affection, you show him that while his experiences have made him stronger, it doesn’t mean he has to be immune to pain or fear. You show him that he doesn’t need to always hide away behind a facade of playfulness around you. You’re always there to listen, should he need the space to talk.

» For that, Lilia is grateful. You’re willing to share his best and worst moments, and you do so without pitying him or doubting him. You love him dearly. Teasing, serious, even a little scary— all are sides of him that you adore.

» For Lilia, that’s important. Because he knows he has a limited amount of time left, and that your time is limited, as well. For you to be so willing to dedicate that time to him— it’s quite beautiful.

» And with whatever time Lilia has left, he plans to do just the same.

» For you are the very embodiment of the future he hopes to live. And so long as that briar rose he confessed with remains bloomed, he knows that you feel the exact same.

— fin.

#twisted wonderland fanfiction #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fanfic #twst x reader #twisted wonderland fanfic #twst #twst lilia #twst lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #twst headcanons #winnie-writes #winnie-wishes

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rowaelinsdaughter · 4 months

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KEEP MY HEART CHAPTER IV

a/n;; i hate iskra so much almdofnmdoiajnid

WARNINGS;; spoilers for heir of fire, soft manon (not even a warning but omg), bl00d, angst to comfort

the day of the selection had finally arrived and manon was eager. titus was hers. she had been talking about it with ayla the night before. she could imagine manon flying with him, but she had a bad feeling, something was going to happen, something was off.

forty three wiches were gathered on the platform waiting for the wyverns.

the three matrons would draw sticks if more than one claim was made on a mount, and ayla knew titus was going to be the most claimed wyvern. standing by her side, manon was getting more anxious as time passed.

she looked at the wyvern who was already chained to the wall, ready for the other wyverns to beat him up, and the wyvern looked up at her. the magic didn’t exist anymore, but she could have sworn she felt something different in him, that this wyvern, half the size of the others, was special.

one after another, the wyverns were brought and claimed, asterin claimed a female. the fiercest one and cunning eyed. it suits her ayla thought. a knowing look between her and manon. she felt petrah blueblood getting closer before the others, thanks to her fae blood. petrah gave ayla a nod and went straight to manon’s side, a soft snarled from asterin was the only warning.

“waiting for titus, aren’t you?”

“and if i am?”

“i’d rather you have him than iskra.”

and then she tensed as she felt iskra closer, right behind them. a little squeeze on her hand was the only reaction from manon as she was still looking at the tunnel.

“plotting already?” iskra teased. ayla was going to answer when the blueblood heir said as she lifted her chin “i think titus would make a good mount for manon”.

titus thundered out, snapping to the men there. he wheeled on the bait beast, striking him with his barbed tail. ayla flinched a little. he was a beast, utterly cruel. and titus struck again. again. again. at that moment manon knew titus knew where to hit, where it would cause the most agony. a whip sounded but he kept pacing in front of the bait beast.

“if you want him so badly,” iskra whispered, “why don’t you go get him?”

and she pushed her.

“MANON!!” ayla shouted followed by asterin and she watched as manon slammed into the ground. she was going to the pit, but a pair of arms stopped her from going, and sorrel dragged her down to the floor. “LEAVE ME DAMN IT” but the matron gave the order that no one was going to the pit, and she could only watch manon and how titus turned toward her. pure fear. that was what she felt. the wyvern was between her and the gate but he had his dark eyes pinned on her. she needed to run, she needed to get out of there. even with wind cleaver she didn’t have any chance. but titus was looking above her, and behind her… the bait beast. the wyvern was looking at manon with hunger, but she knew that the emotion was for titus, not her.

so manon twisted to her feet and ran.

ayla watched as manon ran to the open gate, just as the little wyvern slammed his tail against titu’s head.

and the fight began. tails and claws. but everyone knew titus would win. he was stronger, bigger. the bait beast dodged the tail by slamming its own down atop it, but couldn’t escape the jaws that latched on to its neck. he couldn’t get free. and manon ran for titus and brought wind cleaver down upon his tail.

ayla’s heart was beating so fast she knew everyone could hear it. she watched as the bait snapped titu’s throat. they all watched titu’s dead body.

men were rushing in with spears and swords and whips, and the bait beast growled.

manon held up a hand. and again, the world stopped.

manon, eyes still upon the beast, said, “he’s mine.”

at that, a sob broke through ayla and she felt to the ground.

✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮

abraxos. that was how manon named her wyvern.

when manon came, she was filthy and her ankle was wrenched. ayla ran to manon, crushing her with her arms. “gods manon, i-” she couldn’t talk, and she felt manon’s arm’s on her shoulder’s. she then looked where the yellowlegs heir was being held by asterin. “looks like i lost my footing” she simply said.

that night, in the mess hall, ayla and manon looked as iskra whipped asterin in front of everyone. apparently it was her fault manon fell in the pit. and asterin didn’t scream. and after that, her grandmother called her. she had slapped her in the face and told her she had humiliated her and every blackbeak by choosing abraxos, but ayla knew there was some kind of bond between abraxos and manon. not like the one they had, but she had known the moment he had looked at her that he was different. a warrior indeed.

later that night, ayla was perched on manon’s lap, her face hidden on her neck, while manon comforted her, her hands stroking her back.

“i nearly lost you today, manon. i couldn’t think straight. all i could think was that i needed to go to the pit and… i don’t want to lose you manon.” she moved away from her neck so she could watch her golden eyes. “i can’t lose you manon, do you hear me?? i. can’t. you’re all that i have, you’re the only one i have.” she took her face between her hands “so hear me out manon. don’t you dare lose this game and don’t you dare die during it.”

manon rested her forehead with hers. “i’m going to win and and you're not going to lose me” she kissed her softly. it was rare, so rare that manon was soft. even with her, she was chaos, a storm. she was passionate, her kisses were heated everytime their lips met. but know, manon blackbeak knew she had nearly died, and also knew that her mate wouldn't have gotten over it. so ayla followed the kiss, while manon lay her down on their bed, and made her remember that she was going nowhere.

✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮

“why’s he curled up like that?” manon asked the man.

she looked inside the pen where abraxos was. ayla at her side, and asterin lurked in the shadows, was monitoring everything. she wasn’t going to let manon out of her sight.

“suspect it’s ’cause he’s never had a pen to himself. not this big, anyway.”

“where did they keep him before?” asked ayla. the man looked at her from head to toe. lust reflected in his eyes as he took the sight of her breasts, her waist, her legs… ayla noticed the look and with a movement of her wrist, her iron nails snapped, a wicked smile displayed on her face. and a proud smile appeared on manon’s face. a squeeze to her waist. good job witchling.

the man swallowed three times before answering. “with the other baiters in the sty. he’s the oldest of the baiters, you know. survived the pits and the stys. but that doesn’t mean he’s suitable for you.”

“if i wanted your opinion on his suitability, i’d ask for it,” manon said, eyes still on abraxos as she approached the bars. “how long to get him in the skies?”

“could be days or weeks or months. could be never.”

ayla watched abraxos uncurl a little so he could see between his wings. and again, ayla thought that manon had made the best decision.

tagging;; @danikamariewrites @thehighladywrites @hellwantfuckme @shadowdaddies @callmeblaire

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jakkon-and-rose-topic · 7 days

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Cw: Swearing, Alcohol usage, mentions to torture, PTSD, implied Depression, and yeah... just don't read this if you're sensitive.

Uhhh... So... It's a little different. And Weird. And probably has a lot of flaws, but... enjoy?

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“You look nice!” Rose smiled at her brother-in-law. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in Blue before.”

“Hey, you look good too Petals.” Jakkon offered her his arm. “But I will admit, you look better in red!”

“Is that what you told Eveny when you had Rune?” Rose took his arm with a sly smirk. Jakkon froze and looked down at his sister-in-law, face turning bright red in embarrassment. “Oh, you are so easy to make fun of!”

“Hey!” Jakkon shook his head, trying to clear the heat from his face. “You… I… Hey!”

“Take it as revenge for what you said about the red dress.”

“What- All I did was compare the color. It was meant to be a compliment!”

“I’ll take that as a compliment when I’m dead.”

Jakkon gaped at her in fake offense. “Rude! Any man who tries to dance with you has my condolences for dealing with that flame of a tongue you’ve got!”

Rose smirked. “Well, I pity whoever asks you. The two-left-hooves I know couldn’t dance if his life depended on it.”

“What person in their right mind would ever ask me to dance?” Jakkon laughed, smoothing the hair out of his face.

“Hey, Horns? If my sister thought you were attractive enough to marry you, you’ve got to have something going for you.”

The Satyr and Fae both smiled. “Do you want to go look at the food options?”

“Really? You want to?”

“Sure! Why not?”

“Alright!” Rose glanced around at the other guests, noting that most of them had something, whether it be a drink or a small bit of food, and let her brother-in-law lead her through the crowds over to a series of tables.

The two lightly teased one another for a bit, Rose taking a few small fruits, and Jakkon just keeping her company before they ventured back out into the crowds to strike up conversation with Morena and Finn.

Jakkon put his hands behind his back. “So, have either of you tried dancing yet?”

“No. Um… Not yet.” Morena smiled sheepishly, the tips of her ears tinging pink as Finn looked at the ground.

“Come on! Have some fun! Live a little!” Rose elbowed Finn.

“Now you sound like Jak.” The harpy glanced up and met Jakkon’s eyes. The Satyr broke into a smirk and Finn managed a smile.

“Go on! Have fun you two! Don’t just stand here!” Jakkon smiled at Morena and threw his arms around her.

Morena smiled softly as Jakkon stepped behind Morena and leaned forward. “Sorry.” Then he pushed her toward Finn. Both jumped, and Finn caught Morena, their faces turning bright pink.

“I… uh… sorry!”

“No, no, you’re alright!”

“Same to you I just…”

Both of the harpies froze, looking at one another before Finn offered Morena his hand. “Well… um… Would you like to dance?”

Morena smiled and took it. “Yes. I would. Very much.”

Rose held up a fist, and Jakkon bumped it with a smirk. “Mission accomplished.”

After a few minutes of silent celebration, Rose and Jakkon snuck through the crowds to watch the slow dance. The two harpies stumbled over their talons a few times, this particular dance not fit for them, but they came back holding hands and laughing.

“So, have fun?” The Satyr smiled.

“Yes, no thanks to you!” Morena smiled at him and hugged him. “Thank you.”

“Just doing my civil duty ma’am.” Jakkon gave her a fake salute and Rose smirked.

But suddenly, a voice interrupted them. “Finn! It’s good to see you!”

Rose eyed the newcomers but leaned against her brother-in-law. “Hey Horns, how many times do you think you’d fall over if you tried to dance?”

“Every step!” He laughed as someone in the crowd moved and he caught sight of a painfully familiar figure with the group talking to Finn. Pale skin, sharp ears, and cold piercing eyes. The smile on his face faded as his pupils constricted in terror, and he flinched back.

“Huh? Horns?” Rose reached out to him, but Jakkon pulled away from her as the figure turned, a long black braid rested against the golden buttons on his suit.

Just as Jakkon was about to run, the cold, hissing voice called out cheerfully. “Jak! It’s good to see you here!” The Satyr flinched, shivering as he closed his eyes. But the elf ignored his obvious fear and grabbed his wrist, faking a handshake as he pulled him back. “Are you… enjoying yourself?”

Jakkon froze, his shoulders slumping as he looked down at the ground. “Yessir. It has been… very nice. Thank you for inviting us.”

“Glad to hear you’re grateful.” He smiled. “Now who’s this lovely creature?” He let go of Jakkon, turning to Rose as he took her hand and kissed it.

“DON’T-” Jakkon stopped himself, “touch her.”

“What was that?” Eynalis turned back to Jakkon, his eyes narrowing.

“I… I uh… N-nothing sir. Please don’t touch her... She’s my family. I wouldn’t want anyone getting any ideas!” He laughed nervously, pulling Rose away from the elf, who smiled, knowing he now had a good method of keeping Jakkon right where he wanted him.

“Who is this?” Rose tilted her head.

“Yes Jak, don’t be rude. Please, introduce us.” The Elf grinned.

“Um…” The Satyr shifted. “Rose… this is Eynalis. He… he’s my boss. And our host. He’s been like a father to me since I got this job. Eynalis, this is… my sister, Rose.”

“Ah! It’s good to meet you, m’lady!” Eynalis grinned, shifting the glass of wine in his hand.

Rose glanced at Jakkon and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Why are you so desperate to leave? He doesn’t seem so bad.”

“I- I… um… I don’t… never mind.” The Satyr avoided her eyes as Eynalis grabbed back onto his wrist.

“Yes! Why are you so eager to go somewhere Jak? Are you… afraid of being tied down?”

Jakkon gasped a shaking breath. “I… No sir…”

“Good!” Eynalis grinned. “You know Jak, emotions are so fleeting. Like the love of flowers in spring.”

Eynalis tightened his grip on the Satyr’s arm as he gasped a shaky breath. “I’m so glad you work for me. There are so many things you’re capable of in this fleeting world. There’s so much fun to be had at parties like these you know. Do you remember the last time we had a meeting?” Jakkon froze, horrified as he remembered the screams of Eveny and Rune. “Or what about when you met my friend? Such good times!” The Satyr flinched back, air not reaching his lungs at the mention of the serial killer and the memories of Eveny’s cold dead eyes and ashy flesh. He stumbled back as Eynalis’ magic seeped through his skin, flaring the pain and the memories as the Elf’s grip tightened, crushing Jakkon’s wrist.

He leaned forward. “You know she held out hope for you until the last moment. Your little boy might still be alive if you hadn’t refused? You’re my son. Do you want me to take that pain away? I could. Just give me a knife and a few minutes.” Eynalis straightened. “But Rose! I don’t know a lot about you dear! How do you know Finn and Jak?”

But the voices blurred together as Jakkon's hands flew to his face, thorny whips of icy fire slicing through every inch of his skin, weaving through his whole body like a sewing needle fastening him to blood and bones swallowing him whole. His hands reached out of the void for help only to grasp the blades of the knives which drew screams from his family's lips.

…

Rose pulled away from the strange Elf. “Thank you for your time Mr. Eynalis. You're very kind. But I think I ought to discuss a few things with my coworkers. I hope you understand.”

“Of course my dear! It was a nice talk! I hope to meet you again another day.” He kissed her hand, holding it a little too tight as Rose pulled back.

Eynalis waved and trotted off into the crowd, leaving Rose alone. She glanced around. “Hey, Horns-” But the Fae stopped as she turned, confused and startled to find that Jakkon wasn't beside her. “Horns?” She looked around frantically, eyes wide. The Fae whirled around and lunged for Finn, yanking him toward her.

“Hey? What?” The harpy raised an eyebrow.

Rose lowered her voice and hissed through her teeth. “Have you seen Jak?”

Finn froze and turned, looking around the room. “Wasn't he with you?”

“He was! But I… he's gone!”

“Shit. Uh… try looking around, ask for him. The servants might know!”

“What? Why would they know?” Rose's breaths came quicker as she began to panic.

“They're your best bet, they're everywhere.” Finn shrugged. “Listen, Rose, I'm not a detective, alright? I may not like Jak, but I want him to be okay. You got this Rose.”

“Thank you, Finn.”

“You're welcome. Tell me if there's any way I can help.” The harpy smiled encouragingly at her.

Rose shook her head and raced off, lifting her skirts just enough so she wouldn't trip on them as she asked any guests she ran into, but none had answers until she moved past the tables. Two servants leaned against the wall arguing in hushed tones, catching Rose's attention.

“Why the hell did you let him take those?”

I didn't! He asked how many we had and what they were for, and then when I showed him, he took them from me. I mean, good riddance they're gone. But I'm a little concerned.”

“A little? Aeridine could kill a man!” Rose froze at the mention of the name. Aeradine, generally used as a painkiller or as a party drink for the more animalistic species like Aperrunai or Ferrakin.

“I've seen him before. He's one of us…” The second servant stared up at the ceiling as Rose stopped to listen. “Eynalis has him on a leash. He's terrified of boss. Rightfully so.” He shuddered.

“Oh…” The first stopped. “Oh no, oh shit… we can't leave our post, but we have to help him. That's… oh no.”

“We need to get someone… but who will listen to us? Who won't tell boss?”

Rose perked up. “Hey! You two. Who are you talking about? I'm looking for someone!”

The Second servant paused before the first one elbowed him. “Um… Dark brown hair, almost black, long ponytail? Curly Horns, Dark red eyes… Oh shit… Was that Jakkon Erwhyn?”

“Yes!” Rose grinned. “If that’s who it was I need to find him!”

“How did we not recognize- uh, he went that way! Please help him! He didn't look good when we saw him!”

“Will Do! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Rise bolted off in the direction the servant had pointed until she found a large door. She took a step back, staring up at it in uncertainty. But a flash of blue caught her eye, and she turned, a ripped piece of blue fabric torn on the thorny branch of a tree.

Rose steeled her resolve and shoved the doors open. But she froze in her tracks as her eyes landed on the familiar thin figure of Jakkon, slumped at the bottom of the steps, one of his arms wrapped around himself for warmth as he drained the remainder of the silver bottle.

“Hey! Horns! Horns, stop it! Are you okay?” Rose hurried down the stairs, then yelped in horror as she tripped on her skirt and fell. Jakkon whirled toward her, falling halfway and bracing himself with one hand on the steps.

“Ughh… Fuck.” But he shook his head and launched himself to his feet, catching Rose in a hug, wavering on his feet as she gasped. The fae just managed to gain her footing as she held onto her brother-in-law.

“Hey, Horns, what the fuck is going on?” Rose looked up at him, wincing at the strange scent of alcohol, but stopped as Jakkon’s eyes glazed over in a dead expression. He murmured something about blood and crumpled to the ground, his supporting arm around Rose ending up taking her down with him.

Rose yelped in surprise as they landed in a tangled heap on the stone, Jakkon absorbing most of the impact as she scrambled back, shaking his shoulders. “Jak! Jakkon! Are you alright? Can you hear me?” But when he didn't respond, she balled her hand into a fist and punched his shoulder.

Again, she was rewarded with nothing. No sound, no movement, simply shallow raspy breaths. “Fuck. Finn!” Rose launched herself to her feet and ran back to the party. “Hey! You two! Find a Harpy named Finn for me, will you?”

“Yes ma'am! Is he alright?”

“No. That's why I need Finn. Tell him Rose sent you.”

“Yes ma'am, understood!” The second servant raced off as Rose returned to Jakkon to find him curled up, shivering lightly. She cleared worried tears from her face and picked him up by both arms, trying her best to drag him over to the railing so she could prop him up correctly.

…

Jakkon sat up to find himself in a dark room, tangled in a thick white blanket. He pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead with a muffled groan of pain. But he just sat there for a moment, head in his hands, as his thoughts returned to him and he kicked the blanket to the side.

What’s the point? What’s the point of living a life like this if I live just to be tortured and reach sleep in the next few hours? Why do I care? Rose won’t forget me no matter what I do, so why do I keep trying to make her? They all love me. But why? I’m worthless. I live three hours in misery just to live the next five in agony. He flinched, reaching into the pocket of his overcoat and pulling out the glass shard he’d kept, staring at it. What’s the point of living if there’s no way to feel anything but hollow? Why should I care? I’ve only done damage by living. What do I care about? My family. I need to protect them. But how? By taking away the danger in their life. And that danger… He paused, looking down at the glass and his hands. Is me.

@aestheic-writer18 @ajgrey9647 @agirlandherquill @aalinaaaaaa @generic-whumperz @angst-is-love-angst-is-life @rivenantiqnerd @goldencomet69 @lumpofsand @blueberryseast1 @cybercelestian @chainsawpuppy88 @baconandeggs-25 @corinneglass @carosbee @danielleitloudernow @darkandstormydolls @illarian-rambling @idunnobutliaiscool @katwritesshit @kia-is-poisoned @phoenixradiant @thelazywitchphotographer @whumped-by-glitter @vyuntspakhkite-l-darling @i-hate-happy-endings @randomfixation @leahnardo-da-veggie @oliolioxenfreewrites @caffeinatedscorpio

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rosanna-writer · 8 months

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we said hello and your eyes look like coming home (10/?)

Summary: A canon-divergent AU where the bond snaps for Rhys on Calanmai, Feyre unwittingly accepts it, and Fire Night magic proves to be more transformative than anyone bargained for. Feyre drags a mate she hardly knows out from Under the Mountain, then puts him back together as war with Hybern approaches. Warnings: dubious consent, canon-typical sexual violence, canon-typical violence Rating: Explicit Chapter Word Count: ~4.8k

Some dialogue in this chapter is taken directly from ACOTAR book one.

Read on AO3 or you can find the tenth chapter below the readmore.

ch. 1 - the altar is my hips | ch 2. - an arrowhead leading us home | ch. 3 - by the way, i just may like some explanations | ch. 4 - can't not think of all the cost | ch. 5 - honey i rose up from the dead | ch. 6 - this mad, mad love makes you come running | ch. 7 - therein lies the issue, friends don't try to trick you | ch. 8 - it's not his price to pay | ch. 9 - is it chill that you're in my head? | ch. 10 - rooting for the anti-hero

Rhys shoved me off his lap, roughly enough that I wasn't entirely pretending to stumble towards an empty spot at the very edge of the room.

Don't draw attention to yourself, he said, closing his shields until the smallest chink of an opening remained. Just enough to communicate, but he was clearly trying to shut me out as best as he could for this.

He sauntered towards the dais, hands sliding into his pockets again. Though his body language was casual, he couldn't hide that lithe, predatory grace as he moved, that way about him that sent even powerful faeries scurrying. Beautiful, in a terrible sort of way.

I took the opportunity to scan the crowd for reactions. A blue-eyed faerie with dark skin and white hair stepped forward, his mouth pressed into a thin line. Though it was muted, I sensed enough of an aura of power around him that I recognized him as the High Lord of the Summer Court. His appearance didn't match the description Mor had given me before I'd left the Night Court. The last one had died, then. This was a new, untested High Lord.

Rhys circled the faerie on the ground. I felt his mounting dread through the bond—it matched my own—but despite that, he was still smirking and making this interrogation into as dramatic a show as he could.

And it was working, the whole throne room waiting with baited breath.

The only sound was the faerie's sobbing and half-coherent pleas for mercy. There was real pain shining in the Summer Lord's eyes. Even fae from other courts looked sympathetic, not just afraid. That made sense—from Mor's brief introduction to inter-court politics, I knew that the Summer Court was neutral, well-liked even.

"He wanted to escape," Rhys said to Amarantha. "To get to the Spring Court, cross the wall, and flee south into human territory. He had no accomplices, no motive beyond his own pathetic cowardice."

The Summer Court faerie pissed himself—perhaps Rhys adding a cruel touch to the show, perhaps real fear—then abruptly stopped shaking. I half-paid attention, more interested in the way the Summer Lord relaxed just the slightest bit despite the puddle on the floor.

It was enough for me to be sure that Rhys hadn't told Amarantha everything. In some small way, he'd shielded the Summer Court.

Amarantha rolled her eyes, pouted like a child, and said, “Shatter him, Rhysand.” She flicked a hand at the High Lord of the Summer Court. “You may do what you want with the body afterward."

The Lord of Summer bowed; he might be untested, but he was clearly savvy enough to recognize this small gift for what it was. The grief on his face was almost too much to look at.

Rhys slipped a hand out of his pocket, and I reached down the bond for him. For once, he didn't shove me out. In an awful way, I was glad of it—I recognized the sick sort of sadness on his side of the bond. I'd felt the same way in between shots when it had taken more than one arrow to kill an animal.

The Summer Court faerie was marked for death as soon as the Attor found him—Rhys was merely putting him out of his misery. I'd done it for countless deer and birds I'd killed with imprecise initial shots, but it wasn't until that moment that I realized that I hadn't afforded Andras the same courtesy, just watched him twitch and bleed as his breathing slowed. A part of me even thought he'd deserved it.

Perhaps that made me a monster, too.

Rhys clenched his hand into a fist, and the faerie slumped to the ground, blood leaking from his nose. At least it had been quick. I squeezed one of the talons in my mind; there were no words for this. All I could do was remind him that he wasn't alone.

Amarantha said something sharp and irritated that carried over the murmuring of the crowd. I didn't catch it—with the attention on the dais, another faerie had come to stand next to the place where I was leaning against the wall.

Like the High Lord of Summer, this male had dark skin and radiated power. The crisp, white bolt of fabric that formed his clothes was a distinctive style that Mor had trained me to recognize. Rhys had called him an ally once.

This was Helion Spell-Cleaver, the High Lord of the Day Court.

He watched Amarantha, but I suspected he was paying attention to me. I was tempted to move away, my sense of self-preservation wisely telling me that High Lords were to be avoided. The protection the body paint afforded me was the only reason I was brave enough to stay.

"The Night Court plays dangerous games," he said, soft enough that I was the only one to hear it. "It's unfortunate that you've become involved."

I had no idea what to say to that. Helion continued to stare straight ahead, as if he hadn't even noticed me. He'd clearly meant to send a message, but I wasn't sure what.

Before I could string together enough words for a reply, he walked away. Just as he disappeared into the crowd, he clenched his left hand and uncurled it. Very deliberately.

Helion Spell-Cleaver knew I'd been glamoured. And maybe he could even see through it.

If he knew about my bargain tattoo, then he'd probably scented the mating bond, too. The smart thing to do would be to pass that information onto Amarantha—I wouldn't blame him for it if he did. There was no winning Under the Mountain, only difficult choices, and he'd be right to shield his court at my expense.

Worse, he could cleave the glamour and expose us any time he wanted.

I was temped to tug on the bond and tell Rhys, but there was still too much attention on him. With the turmoil I was feeling from him, I worried he might not be able to focus enough to keep from visibly reacting to me trying to get his attention. I tamped down my rising panic before it could cross the bond.

Instead, I pushed my way through the crowd, back to the table full of food and drink where Rhys was standing. He poured himself a glass of wine and downed it in a single gulp, the only outward sign he was anything less than perfectly composed. But I could feel his horrible mix of guilt, anger, and self-hatred churning like the sea in a storm.

Amarantha was too angry for the party to last much longer. Faeries made their excuses and left; Rhys said something degrading about returning me to my cell before I threw up again and spoiled the mood, then walked me out of the throne room with a hand on my lower back. Once we were alone in a deserted hallway, he winnowed us to the dungeon.

"I'm sorry," he said, voice thick once we could speak freely. He stopped bothering to hide the anguish on his face. I reached for him, but he shrank back from my touch. "I don't deserve that, not right now."

He wouldn't have tolerated this from me when he'd brought me that soup. I wouldn't accept it from him, either.

"Rhysand," I hissed. He stiffened in shock, eyes going wide at the sound of his full name. It was the first time I'd ever used it. "What you want matters to me, not what you think you deserve. Either come here or tell me you don't want me to touch you."

He said nothing, just took a step towards me. It was all the permission I needed. Completely heedless of the paint I'd smear all over his clothes, I pulled him into an embrace and felt him bury his face in my hair.

"I'll never understand why you didn't run from me on Calanmai," he whispered. "You'd be better off if you had."

This ran too deep to talk him out of, especially after I'd been humiliated in front of a room full of faeries and he'd carried out an execution. But the only direction I wanted to run was towards him. It didn't matter that only a drop of his power was enough to shred minds, that the blood of innocents stained his hands, or that everything about him was dark, dangerous, and deadly.

"I'm not afraid of you," I said, pressing my face to the hollow between his neck and shoulder. "None of this is your fault. All you've done is your best with the hand you've been dealt. Over and over. Read my mind if you don't believe I admire you for it."

He said nothing back, but we were pressed so close it was impossible not to feel him cry. Perhaps it was his turn after what I'd done to Lucien, worse this time because he hadn't been able to prevent a death. I ran my hands up and down his back, just as Mor had for me on my first day in the Night Court.

Eventually he pulled away from me, completely calm again. There was no sign of tears—he'd made sure of that with his magic—but I certainly wasn't cruel enough to point that out. With a flick of his hand, he cleared the paint from his tunic. "You should change before you freeze," he said.

I hadn't noticed my clothes folded into a neat pile in the corner. When I picked them up, I caught a whiff of laundry soap—Nuala and Cerridwen's doing, I suspected. And next to the pile, there was a folded blanket of soft black fabric. Rhys was staring at it, and I shot him a questioning look.

"I didn't ask the twins to do that," he said softly. "That's the bedding in the Night Court servants' quarters—they brought you one of their spares."

News of what had happened to Lucien must have filtered down to them, and yet they'd still done this to help me in a small way. First Rhys, then his family, and now his handmaidens—I'd never had so many people in my corner.

I wouldn't let them down.

But for the moment, Rhys was right about changing into something warmer. I started to slip the dress off, then paused at a shuffling sound behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and saw that he'd turned his back to give me privacy.

I snorted. "It's a bit late for that, don't you think? And if I really minded, I would have waited until you left."

"I would have thought you'd be tired of being stared at," he said quietly.

"Not when you're the one doing it. You're mine."

Maybe it was wrong considering the fresh blood on his hands, but another shiver—this time not from the cold—ran through me as he turned back around. The bond went so taut my heart skipped.

You're mine. Rhys had kissed me the first time I'd said it on Calanmai; something about those two words seemed to have an effect on him. If I wasn't mistaken, he liked hearing me say them. Quite a bit. I filed that observation away for the future.

The hunger that had been missing earlier was plain on his face now. I smiled and pushed the dress the rest of the way down my shoulders. Rhys didn't touch me, just watched. It felt right to peel the fabric off, the same way it had the first time he'd thrust into me on Calanmai. I let that thought cross the bond, and to my immense satisfaction, the violet of his eyes went darker.

When I was completely bare save the paint that only his hands had marked, I picked up my tunic and leggings but didn't put them on. A damp chill still permeated the air, and the stone floor had nearly numbed my feet. But I didn't want to break the moment.

Unfortunately, the involuntary chattering of my teeth did it for me.

I pulled on the clothes, then slipped on my boots, wiggling my toes to get the feeling back. With one wave of Rhys's hand, the pins disappeared from my hair, which returned to its usual braid. It was easier to think like this, in practical clothes instead of a costume. And we still had more to discuss.

But before I could get a word out, Rhys pushed me back against the wall, the movement somehow both gentle and too fast for my human eyes to follow. He'd been waiting, I realized, ensuring I was comfortable before he pounced on me, biding his time like the world's most considerate predator.

"And you're mine, too," he said, dropping his head to whisper it in my ear. The pads of his fingers pressed lightly into my hips.

I slid a hand between us, running it up his chest before looping my arm around the back of his neck. I wanted to keep him this close forever. Beyond that, after wearing next to nothing in front of Amarantha's court, I wanted his hands on me, a reminder that the rest of them might look but no one other than him would touch.

And well, if our time was limited, we could multitask—there was no reason we couldn't do this while we discussed strategy. "You should know," I said softly, "that while you were busy with that Summer Court faerie, Helion approached me. He knows something, but I'm not sure what."

Rhys tensed, pulling back just enough to watch my face as I explained what had happened. His face darkened, but thank the Cauldron, he didn't take a step back from me, just interlaced the fingers of my free hand with his.

"Unless there's something else at play, Helion's abilities won't tell him anything about the bond, just that there's Night Court magic glamouring you. I'll make sure he doesn't cleave it," he said.

That wasn't as bad as I'd feared, though it made me nervous to know Helion could reveal our secrets any time he wanted, even with just the small drop of power he'd been left with. It was too much leverage for another court to have over us. "How?"

"Helion is a good male, and I should be thanking him for trying to give you an out tonight. He probably thinks I've hurt you," Rhys said, face darkening. "I'll have to snarl a bit and insinuate it would end badly for you if he tries to interfere. That should be enough."

I bit back a frustrated noise. Rhys was already walking a thin enough line, chasing faeries away from me without arousing suspicion regarding exactly why he was so interested in me. Helion had just unknowingly added another complication.

"Will you be alright?"

He squeezed my hand. "I'll manage."

It was better than telling me yes—I would have known that was a lie. I still wished we had a better best-case scenario. Another pang of guilt washed over me; this whole mess was being prolonged because I still hadn't solved the riddle.

"She's going to be upset, isn't she?" I said, lifting the arm I'd looped around his shoulders so I could stroke his hair. Almost imperceptibly, Rhys leaned his head back into my hand.

"Nothing I can't handle."

I took that to mean the answer was yes—though privately, I was beginning to suspect there wasn't anything in the world Rhys couldn't handle when it came to protecting me or his court. Or at least, nothing he couldn't handle when I had his back. We'd get through it.

Rhys ran his nose along my jaw, and a for a moment, we were quiet, just breathing the same air while we still could. "I don't think I'll be able to see you until the night before your first task," he said eventually.

My stomach lurched. "The night before?"

"It was becoming difficult to find compelling reasons that I hadn't had my way with you yet," he said, lip curling in disgust, "but she liked the idea of you walking into your first task as 'damaged goods.' I'll bring you to my room and let everyone else draw their own conclusions about what we're doing."

We'd need to figure something out for afterwards, but it wasn't a half-bad plan. I'd have a better shot at actually getting some sleep before the first task, at the very least. And I wouldn't complain about anything that got me closer to him, even just for a night. There were still several days until then, and it might be enough time to solve the riddle.

I doubted he could stay for much longer—Amarantha wouldn't be pleased her party had ended so early. And I suspected she wasn't quite finished with the Summer Court, either, and there would be more minds she expected Rhys to dig through.

"Stay safe."

He huffed a single, humorless laugh. "Only because you insist."

I started to say something else, but he kissed my cheek, then disappeared into smoke and shadow.

After that, I was alone in my cell for several days straight. Rhys was mostly quiet, though there was a near constant thrum of anxiety and exhaustion from his side of the bond. I hardly slept, all-too-aware of his own constant sense of alertness, and when I did, my dreams were a blur of him torturing faeries for information about the Summer Court or obeying Amarantha's every whim in the bedroom. I barely kept my paltry meals down.

I turned the riddle over in my mind countless times without getting any closer to an answer. As the days dragged on with no progress, so did my gnawing sense of guilt for not solving it and ending this already. I considered every weapon, every object that could possibly land a powerful blow, but none of them would kill anything slowly, let alone have soft-handed and sweet ministrations.

And this was supposed to be easy.

After a few days, Nuala and Cerridwen arrived, wordlessly painting me and dressing me in another barely-there gown, red this time. I wasn't surprised—if Rhys was telling everyone he was dragging me back to his room to assault me, we'd have to make a show of it. I just hoped this party ended up with a lower body count.

Afterward, the twins brought me to the throne room. When I realized Rhys wasn't there to walk in with me, I felt a flare of panic. But a reassuring tug from his side of the bond let me know that was an intentional choice.

He was seated near Amarantha's dais, leaned back in the chair with an ankle crossed over his knee. I tried not to look too relieved, even though it felt like the world righted itself once our eyes locked. The mask was on—he looked me over as if he were trying to decide how best to pick me apart and leave nothing intact, just for sport. I stopped in front of him, glaring daggers.

"Thank you for bringing her to me," he purred, all dark promise. It was directed at the twins, but his eyes didn't leave me.

Despite myself, my cheeks heated. There was still an audience and a role to play, so I decided to spin the flush into one of indignation. "Tamlin will kill you for this," I spat.

Rhys inclined his head to where Tamlin was sitting, silent and useless as usual, while Amarantha leaned in and whispered something in his ear. "Will he? Doesn't seem like it to me," Rhys said.

"Then I'll kill you myself."

He grinned. "I'd like to see you try."

I kept glowering, letting my hands curl to fists at my sides as Rhys dismissed Nuala and Cerridwen with a single elegant, imperious gesture that spoke to years of ordering servants around. He crooked a finger, beckoning me closer. I crossed my arms. Something flashed in his eyes, and I made a show of jerking forward, as if he'd forced me.

There was a soft pulse of approval down the bond as he pulled me into his lap. I hated how good we were getting at this. He nudged my legs open with his, and I sat very still to avoid exposing myself further. Tamlin didn't blink.

"Come now, Feyre," Rhys crooned, wrapping an arm around my waist. "No need to be like that when we're going to be such good friends by the end of the night."

I would have make a show of struggling, but that have just given the entire crowd a glimpse of the parts of me I was desperately trying to keep covered. But still, I needed to avoid looking too comfortable, so I stared at Tamlin and let myself feel every last drop of my rage that the stone-hearted bastard couldn't muster the smallest sign of concern for me. Soothing talons stroked the edge of my mind.

Am I going to have to dance again? I said, opening my shields a bit wider.

No. And no wine, either. We're only staying long enough to get some food in you before tomorrow.

If you're feeding me yourself, I'm going to bite your hand. Not because I minded—there was quite a lot I'd endure if it meant there was food in it for me—but because it was part of the role I was playing. And it would be unfair not to warn him.

Please do.

Rhys flagged down a passing servant and plucked some food off the tray. With our shields down and minds pressed close, I caught a few of his worried thoughts about how little I'd been eating. But even as he fretted inwardly, his smile was full of nothing but malice.

"Eat, Feyre. You'll need to keep up your strength for everything I have planned for you later," he said, holding a piece of fruit out for me. I shook my head. "Open that pretty mouth of yours."

"I'll show you what my mouth can do," I hissed, then bit down hard on the soft spot between his thumb and forefinger. Something that wasn't quite laughter crossed the bond.

But I pretended he wore me down eventually, lulled into complacence like a dog who'll do anything for scraps. Amarantha, at least, seemed to enjoy the show, alternately laughing at me and whispering in Tamlin's ear. Rhys and I kept it up for as long as we dared—not enough for the food to be called a meal, but still a vast improvement over the bread and water I'd been given since I'd arrived.

Finally, he nudged me off his lap, and it was an effort not to look relieved. He led me out of the room. As we passed Tamlin, Rhys got in one last smirk, letting his hand drift down from my lower back to my ass.

Once we were far enough down the hall, we winnowed to his bedroom. I took in the neatly made bed, the utter lack of clutter or personal touches. I'd seen this room in my mind before, when Rhys had made sure I'd known how to find it if needed, but there was something about seeing it through my own eyes that reminded me exactly why he so rarely slept here. I shivered.

"If you'd like to wash off the paint, I ran a bath for you," Rhys said, taking his hand off me and stepping away.

I relaxed, relieved we could speak freely. Even though I'd just bathed a few hours ago, it had been ages since I'd gotten into a warm tub without someone else dunking me in the water. "Thank you," I said.

"I don't trust the servants who clean this room not go through my things, so there aren't clothes for you here. Take mine," he said, jerking his head towards the ebony dresser.

I pulled open a drawer to find a stack of neatly folded clothes, all black. In the townhouse, I'd refused to snoop through his things, so I wondered if the lack of color was normal for him, or an affectation he put on Under the Mountain, even if black was the color of the Night Court. Pushing those thoughts aside, I grabbed a set of sleep clothes that were almost certainly too big for me and headed to the bathroom.

Bathing with Rhys on the other side of the door and a pile of his clothes to change into felt like a strange mockery of the sort of domesticity we'd never been able to have. I hadn't ached more for Velaris since coming Under the Mountain. I didn't call the city home the way Rhys did—I didn't have a home anymore—but there wasn't anywhere else I'd rather be.

When I returned to the bedroom, Rhys was still standing in the same spot, and if he hadn't also changed, I would have suspected he hadn't moved at all. Something softened in his eyes as he took in the sight of me in sleep pants I'd had to roll up several times to avoid tripping on.

"The bed's yours," he said simply.

I sighed. "I'm not kicking you out of your bed, Rhys." Not when I'd spent years sharing a much smaller one with both of my sisters. It's not as if there was another option—I wasn't enough of a monster to make him take the floor.

I slid under the covers, and the bed was so large that if he'd done the same, I didn't feel the telltale dip in the mattress. Out of habit, I curled up near the edge, taking up as little space as possible. Not that it mattered when there was so much room.

I closed my eyes, and the candles in the room winked out. Rhys didn't come near me. I tried not to think about it—there were a million reasons that had nothing to do with me that he might want the space. This night was as much of a reprieve for him as it was for me.

But if I wasn't thinking about that, it was the riddle and how I still hadn't solved it. I worried about what I might face tomorrow, whether or not I'd live another day and everything that would be lost if I failed. My thoughts were so loud that even with my shields up, I suspected I was shouting them across the bond.

I'd never fall asleep like this.

I rolled over to face him just as he did the same, our movements inadvertently coordinated yet again. Even in the dark, his eyes glittered like stars. I wondered if it was Night Court magic or another aspect of his usual annoying perfection. His hair wasn't mussed despite rubbing against his pillow.

"I can't sleep," I whispered, my voice unexpectedly rough.

"Too much on your mind?"

His lips twisted into what was clearly meant to be a knowing smile, but I sensed his unease, too. No matter how perfect his mask might be, he couldn't hide it. Not from me.

"Can I come closer?"

"I was waiting for you to ask."

Before I could move, his arms were around me. I slid one of my legs between his—when I'd said closer, I'd meant closer. I tilted my head so it was pillowed on his bicep and resting just underneath his chin. He pressed a kiss to my wet hair, splaying both hands on my back to pull my chest flush with his. I don't think we could have been touching in any more places.

It still didn't feel like enough.

"That's better," I whispered once we were settled. He hummed in agreement.

This was the closest thing I'd felt to peace since I'd woken up after Calanmai, but the knowledge of what tomorrow would bring kept both of us from relaxing completely. But still, we deserved more nights like this. I'd solve the riddle and make it happen. I had to.

I closed my eyes and willed sleep to come, but it never did. From the rhythm of Rhys's breathing, I could tell he was also awake. But I kept quiet, afraid of disturbing him if he did manage to drift off. He did the same for me. Though I didn't sleep that night, I let myself dream for the first time in a long while. Curled up in his arms was the only way I felt safe enough to imagine what things might be like if—no, when—we escaped from Under the Mountain, a future worth fighting for.

We stayed like that for hours, though it wasn't nearly long enough. Rhys must have known it was morning from some internal clock he'd developed after decades Under the Mountain, or perhaps because as Lord of Night, he always knew the position of the moon. "You should be getting back soon," he murmured, breath warm against my cheek.

I sighed—he was right. It took all my willpower to pull away from him and stand up, a new wave of fear crashing over me. The full moon was rising. My first task was in a matter of hours.

Rhys shifted me back into my tunic from the Spring Court and himself into another immaculate black jacket and pants. I took a breath, then held my hand out so he could winnow us back to my cell.

Perhaps it was just the dim light of the dungeon, but when I dropped my hand, there was no sign of fear on Rhys's face. For once, it didn't feel like an act. Before I could ask, he said, "The task plays to your strengths. You're going to win."

I nodded, letting that steady me. Even if Rhys couldn't tell me about the task, he'd had her ear this entire time. He'd been fighting for me. "Of course I'm going to win," I said, forcing a smile.

Amarantha, I was sure, would want to hear all about how the night had gone—Rhys couldn't seem to eager to stay with me. As much as I wanted to keep him longer, I couldn't. I leaned forward to kiss him goodbye, but he stepped back and smirked. "I'll kiss you afterwards. Consider it extra motivation to beat the task."

And that's when I knew none of his confidence in me was an act—if Rhys thought there was any chance at all I'd die today, he would have kissed me goodbye. My smile went a bit wider. "If it's my reward for not dying, it had better be one hell of a kiss," I said.

He winked. "Only the best for you, Feyre darling." Then, more softly, he added, "I'll see you soon."

He winnowed away, and I was left alone again. I spent the rest of the time pacing my cell, hoping I'd come up with the answer to the riddle at the last minute, but I had no such luck.

The guards arrived to drag me upstairs for my first task.

#feysand #feyre archeron #we said hello and your eyes look like coming home

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