#✤ musing — i am so damned not even death wanted me

[theemporium]

technically the first proper introduction into the charles and blitz world despite how much we talk about them!!

series masterlist

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“If you die, can I get your Pista?”

Charles lifted his head, shooting you an unimpressed look. 

“What? I just thought we should cover all bases,” you defended, knocking your shoulder against his. 

You knew exactly what was going through his head. You knew he was overthinking the whole thing, making up the worst assumptions and how it could affect the time he would have to take off training. You knew he was working himself up like he tended to do, falling silent and allowing his only company to be himself.

It was the exact reason you insisted on coming with him.

“And out of everything I own, you want my car?” Charles questioned, his eyebrows raised. 

“Yeah well, you treat that thing like your baby—minus the parking skills,” you said with an innocent smile spread across your face. “Surely that makes me a step-mother or some sort of parental figure.”

“The way your brain works amazes me every day,” he murmured with a shake of his head.

“You love me,” you sang, nudging his shoulder once again and, this time, he lifted his arm to wrap it around your shoulder. 

“Unfortunately, I do. Even when you’ve started planning for my death before I go into surgery,” he mused, but you could hear the underlying hint of fear. The one he didn’t really want to admit, but the one that you saw as clear as day anyways.

“Everything is gonna be fine,” you reassured him and lightly squeezed his knee. “Who else am I gonna look down on the top step of the podium if not you?” 

He rolled his eyes. “It is truly a miracle I love you.”

“I’m the best thing in your life and you know it, Leclerc,” you countered, poking his side. 

Charles’ face softened. “Yeah, you are.” 

“Charles Leclerc!” 

He turned to look at the nurse who was waiting for him by the doors, a kind and welcoming smile on her face. You watched the way his face dropped a little, the way his body tensed against yours and you squeezed his knee again. 

“You’re coming back to me, Charlie. It’ll be fine.”

…

“Tu es si jolie, mon amour.”

*You are so pretty, my love.

“English, Charlie. My French is lacklustre at best.”

“Tu es l’amour de ma vie!” 

*You are the love of my life!

You sighed deeply, taking a glance at the boy in the passenger seat of the car. He had a lovesick smile on his face, his cheeks flushed pink and a little bit of drool on the edge of his mouth. He looked adorable—and fucking hilarious if the pictures you sent to his brothers were anything.

However, since the second he had woken up from the procedure, Charles seemed adamant on only rambling your ear off in French. No Italian or English to be heard. Just French. Just the one damn language that you were hopeless in, despite the many years you knew the Monegasque.

“J’ai hâte de t’épouser,” he sighed dreamily as he stared at you with an expression that made your chest tighten.

*I can’t wait to marry you

“I don’t know what you said but me too, buddy,” you said as you reached over to softly pat his thigh. 

However, the boy was one step ahead of you and quickly grabbed your hand to intertwine with his own.

“Regarder!” He giggled, holding your joined hands up proudly. “Nous sommes connectés pour toujours maintenant!” 

*Look! We are connected forever now!

“You’re so lucky you’re cute,” you commented, fighting the odd urge to bite back a smile even when you had no understanding of what he said. “I might need to call your mother if you keep up this whole French act.”

“Oui, appelle-la! C’est aussi ta famille, mon amour!” Charles nodded.

*Yes, call her! She is your family too, my love!

“You know, these embarrassing videos don’t work if even I don’t understand them,” you added, shooting him a look but he just smiled back at you, and you couldn’t really be mad at that.

.

[ltash]

Unbearable

SimonGhostRileyxFemaleReader 'Oneshot' Word Count 6k approx

Warning: Hot sex, Dubcon, Intercourse.

From fighting to fucking. You knew what happens when you tease your Lieutenant.

"The mission was a fuck up because of you Lieutenant". You entered the safehouse with him following after. Your uniform messy, hair dishelved. "I nearly died because of you."

He was your superior but you were always fighting with eachother.

Your words cut through the air like a knife, sharp and edged with disappointment. Ghost's composure remains outwardly calm, the only visible reaction the slight tightening of his jaw beneath the skull balaclava.

"The mission went sideways," he responds, his tone low and measured, betraying just a hint of defensiveness. "I can't control every variable, princess."

"Shut up! I am not your princess LT. I am a sergeant." You spat.

Ghost's eyes narrow, the tension in the room crackling like a livewire. He takes a step closer to you, his towering form looming above you.

"You're right," he retorts, his voice a low growl. "You're not a princess. You're a sergeant who's acting like a damn child, throwing a tantrum because things didn't go your way. Grow up."

"You need to grow up Ghost." You shot back.

"Oh, I need to grow up?," he snaps, his patience wearing thin. "You're the one who can't even follow a simple order without arguing. Who's the child here? You're damn insubordinate and reckless."

His eyes raked over your form, taking in your petite stature and the way your uniform clung to your curves. He hated how goddamn perfect you were. His eyes darkened with a mixture of irritation and desire.

"LT! You nearly got me killed and you are still denying. The bomb just exploded near me. If it wasn't for my decision making I wouldn't be here alive." You crossed your arms on your chest.

The reminder of your near-death experience sparks a pang of guilt in Ghost's heart, but he quickly pushes it aside, masking it with a scoff.

"You put yourself in that situation," he snaps. "I gave you orders for a reason. But you never listen; you always have to do things your damn way."

"Oh God damn you are impossible LT. I just can't anymore with you." You said as you sat on the couch."

"Yeah, the feeling's mutual," he grumbled, leaning against the wall and watching you. Despite his irritation, his eyes were drawn to the way your hips curved when you sat down.

"Can't believe I am doing this with you." I gritted my teeth in frustration.

Ghost's gaze locked onto you again, the corners of his lips curling into a faint smirk.

"Doing what, exactly?" His voice a deep, velvety low rumble.

"Nothing." Just go to sleep.

"Oh, now you want me to go to sleep, princess?" He chuckled, pushing himself off the wall and stalking towards you. "You make it sound like I'm the one who's causing all the trouble around here."

"You are my superior and I am giving you the benfit of doubt. I spare you. Now please spare me." I clasped my hands together.

Ghost's smirk widened, the sight of you pleading with him was doing things to him in ways he never imagined.

"Oh, so you're sparing me now? How generous." He drawled, taking another step towards you, closing the distance between you. "And what exactly am I supposed to spare you from, sergeant?"

You took off your boots throwing them away across the room. You clutched the cushion. "I am gonna sleep peacefully now." You said.

Ghost's eyes widened as you kicked off your boots, revealing your sock-clad feet. the sight sent a jolt of heat straight to his core.

He leaned against the armchair, his gaze fixed on you as you clutched the cushion. "Sleep peacefully, huh?" he mused, tilting his head to the side, his eyes raking over your form, lingering on your curves. "You gonna dream about me, princess?"

"My feet smells like a mouse died here. It stinks. This mission sucks and you too." You said as you stood up and took off your socks.

Ghost watched as you took off your socks, his eyes following the movement of your fingers, a mix of annoyance and desire pooling within him.

"Oh, now it's my fault that your feet stink? " he retorted, trying to keep his focus on your face and not the curves of your body. "You're the one who's being a pain in the ass, not me."

Urgh! You gritted your teeth as you made your way to the washroom. You started washing your socks, your hands, your feet and your face which had a layer of dirt. You opened your long hairs. Your took off your uniform's jacket revealing only your tshirt. You came out of the bathroom.

Ghost's jaw clenched the moment you came out of the bathroom. He could see the curves of you body in just a t-shirt and cargo pants. His eyes followed your every move, devouring the sight of you in his mind. He let out a low breath, silently cursing himself for how Goddamn gorgeous you looked right now.

"What?" You settled on the couch. Taking out your cellphone.

His eyes roamed over you, taking in the way your body looked on the couch, so inviting. His mouth felt dry all of a sudden.

"What are you doing?" He managed to ask, trying to keep his voice casual, but failing miserably.

"Scrolling facebook." You casually replied.

He watched as you scrolled through Facebook on your phone as if nothing was wrong, as if just moments ago you weren't arguing with him. The casualness of your response was driving him insane.

"You're just going to sit there and scroll through Facebook, like nothing happened?" He grumbled, his eyes still glued to your body.

"There is no use of bickering right now. I have just survived an ordeal and I need some rest." You said.

Ghost couldn't argue with that. As much as he wanted to continue the back and forth, he knew you were right. You had almost died just hours ago.

"You're right," he relented, running a hand through his face, his eyes still fixed on you. "You need to rest. We'll talk about this later."

"God I can't sleep in these messy clothes. Do you have a tshirt I can borrow?" You asked.

Ghost's breath caught in his throat as you asked for a tshirt. The thought of you wearing his shirt sent a bolt of heat straight to his groin. He cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Uh, yeah. I have a clean t-shirt," he replied, his eyes fixed on you, "But it's gonna be big on you, you know that, right?"

"No problem LT. I wear oversized clothes quite a lot." I said.

Ghost nodded, his mind wandering to the thought of you in his oversized tshirt. The visual alone was driving him insane.

"Alright," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "Stay here, I'll get it for you."

He went to his duffel bag and rummaged through it, finding a clean white t-shirt. He returned and handed it to you, his fingers lingering on yours for a moment before drawing back.

"Don't you have any other colour except white?" You rolled your eyes.

Ghost couldn't help but let out a huff of amusement. Even when asking for a tshirt, you were still being picky. "No, I don't have anything in any other color," he replied, a hint of mockery in his voice. "You gonna refuse to wear it just because it's white?"

"I guess I'll have to manage then. Thanks." I said as I stomped my way to the bathroom.

Ghost stood there, watching you storm off to the bathroom, his eyes fixated on your backside. He couldn't help but enjoy how cute you looked when you were annoyed.

He settled on the armchair, leaning back, his mind filled with thoughts of you wearing just a white t-shirt and nothing.

He cleared his throat, his eyes following you until you disappeared into the bathroom.

As you stepped into the warm shower, the water cascaded down your body, the heat and steam surrounding you. With the door closed, you were momentarily out of Ghost's sight, but not out of his mind.

He sat back in his chair, trying to distract himself from the image of you in his mind, wet and soapy, your bruises on display.

In the shower, your body was soothingly caressed by the warm water and the suds of Ghost's body wash. The scent of it, masculine and a little earthy, filled the air. Each gentle touch of your hands onto your soft curves sent a shiver through you, the aching parts of your body slowly relaxing under the pressure.

As you emerged from the shower, your long hair damp, Ghost's eyes immediately landed on you.

His breath hitched in his throat as you stepped out of the bathroom, the sight of you in his white t-shirt sending his thoughts into a frenzy. The shirt was big on you, hanging low on your shoulders, barely covering the curves of your hips.

He struggled to keep his gaze from roaming over your body, his eyes drawn to the damp strands of hair clinging to your neck, the hint of wetness on your skin.

"Thanks for the shirt." You whispered.

Ghost's eyes remained glued to your figure, his brain struggling to form words. You looked so damn beautiful in his shirt, his mind filled with thoughts of pulling you onto his lap and devouring you whole.

He cleared his throat, "No problem...princess," he managed to rasp out.

He looked away, trying to keep his gaze from roaming over your legs, the sight of you in his shirt driving him almost crazy.

He could tell you were eyeing him, your gaze roaming over his form. The way your eyes took in his cargo pants, his tattooed arm, his flexed muscles, and the tautness of his shirt against his chest.

He was used to people looking at him, sizing him up, but coming from you, it felt different. It was almost as if your gaze was caressing him, sending a strange, unfamiliar heat through his body.

Ghost's mind was filled with conflicting thoughts as your gaze roamed over him. It felt strangely intimate, as if you were undressing him with just a look.

He could feel his heart rate increasing, his breathing becoming shallow under your gaze. It was as if your eyes were setting his body on fire, awakening something deep within him that he hadn't felt in a long time.

Your brief, almost involuntary, bite on your lip didn't go unnoticed by Ghost. His eyes darkened slightly, his sharp gaze locking on to your mouth, watching as your teeth grazed over your bottom lip.

He shifted in his chair, his legs spreading wider in a display of masculine dominance, he found himself focusing on the way your eyes followed his every move. He noted the way you bit your lip again, the action stirring something primal in him.

Ghost's eyes zeroed in on your thighs as you settled on the couch, the sight of them so close yet so unattainable driving him insane. The shirt rode up, revealing more of your skin to his gaze, making him want to reach out and touch you, to feel the softness of your thighs under his fingers.

He was used to people being intimidated by his size, his appearance, but there was something about you, about the way you looked at him, that made him want to show you more, to make you see why they call him 'Ghost'.

He could see it in your eyes, the attraction, the fire that was beginning to burn within you. The heat in your gaze was unmistakable, the way your eyes never strayed from him.

His body reacted almost involuntarily to your gaze, his own desire and lust awakening in response to your intense attention. A shiver ran through him, as if your eyes were physically touching him, fueling the flames of his own desire, making them grow.

Your unwavering determination, your strong, unwavering gaze, didn't go unnoticed by Ghost. He could see the fire in your eyes, the determination to make him yours.

His mind was fighting against it, telling him this was a bad idea, that he shouldn't give in to this desire, but his body and his own intense attraction couldn't help but react. He felt pulled towards you, a magnet to your intense gaze.

Ghost was torn between his own desire and his need to keep his professional boundaries intact. He knew this wasn't a good idea, that he should shut it down. But being the focus of your intense desire was making it incredibly difficult.

He sat there, his body rigid, his own gaze fixed on you, trying to maintain a mask of composure. But the fire in your eyes was too strong, too intoxicating, and he could feel himself slowly giving in to the pull, drawn to the fire like a moth to a flame.

He was practically losing his mind. The way you sat, the way you looked at him, the way your body was practically begging for him, it was driving him crazy.

"F-ck," he muttered, his voice gruff and full of need. "You're driving me crazy, you know that?"

He watched as you sat there, your body practically begging for his touch. His hands clenched into fists, the need to grab you and draw you close warring with his own self-control.

He let out a low growl, his voice rough and gravelly, "You've no idea what you're doing to me, princess...driving me insane with that look in your eyes, the way you're sitting there... it's taking every ounce of my restraint not to take you right here, right now."

His eyes traced up the arch of your neck as you rested your head on the couch, the delicate skin practically begging to be marked. The sight of your pulse, the reminder of the life flowing within you, sent a shiver through him.

He wanted to mark that neck, to leave his own unique stamp on your skin.

You moved on the couch, bringing your knees to your chest, Ghost's gaze trailed down to where the shirt had ridden up, revealing your legs, all the way up to the edge of your panties.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry, as he took in the sight of you. Your legs, so soft and exposed, the edge of your panties peeking from the bottom of his shirt, it was all he could do not to pounce on you that very moment.

Watching you bite your thumb, your unwavering gaze on him, was driving him insane. His eyes grew even darker, his desire burning hotter and hotter.

He could see the way your teeth gently grazed over your thumb, the innocence and sensuality mixed in the action. It was almost as if you were taunting him, testing his restraint, seeing how long he could hold out.

Your action, the way you slowly inserted your finger into your mouth, licked it, and then pulled it out slowly, was the final straw for him.

He abruptly stood up, his chair scraping back as his body moved on instinct, drawn to you like a magnet. In a few long strides, he was standing in front of you, his eyes dark and intense, his body taut with need.

He stood towering over you, his body close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him. His breathing was ragged, his eyes locked on your parted lips. He wanted to taste those gasps, to swallow them down and make them his.

He watched as you rested your head back on the couch, your unwavering gaze still locked on his. It was almost torturous, the way you were just out of reach, yet so close at the same time.

He leaned closer, his body almost touching yours, yet still not quite closing the gap completely. He could feel the tension between you growing, the air thick with anticipation and need.

Ghost's eyes darkened, his voice a low, gravelly growl. "Stop looking at me like that, princess."

As you pulled your hair aside, the action revealing the smooth, unmarked skin of your neck, his eyes immediately went to the exposed flesh. The sight of the shirt clinging to your breasts, emphasizing your curves, made his mouth go dry.

The sight of you biting your thumb and caressing your lips was driving him insane. Each movement was seductive, seemingly innocent, yet incredibly alluring.

Your slow stand, the way you rose up on your tip toes, bringing your face so painfully close to his own, was like a physical blow to Ghost. Your breaths mingling with his sent a shiver through his body.

His own breath hitched in his throat as you slowly folded his mask up, revealing his lips, his mouth, to you. The feeling of your lips brushing against his was electric, a bolt of pure desire shooting through him.

The moment your lips brushed against his, a shudder reverberated deep within his chest. The primal need for more consumed him, overriding his every thought.

With an abrupt motion he pressed you onto the nearest wall, pinning you there. The solid surface of the wall felt cool against your back, contrasting the feverish heat that was emanating from him.

He pinned you there, his body trapping you between him and the wall, his breaths coming out in ragged, hungry gasps. "You tease too much."

It was like a dam breaking. As soon as your lips met, the hunger and desire that had been building in Ghost for so long, burst through. His mouth fused with yours, the kiss hungry and desperate, full of raw need.

With each gasp that escaped your lips, each whimper that vibrated in your throat, Ghost could feel the last of his control slipping away.

He claimed your mouth in a scorching kiss, a hungry, demanding kiss that devoured and claimed, a kiss that spoke of a desire that had been brewing for far too long.

His hands, possessive and hungry, roamed your body, mapping every curve, every inch of flesh, his touch burning a hot trail on your skin. He could feel you straining against him, your body desperate to get even closer.

Without breaking the kiss, he lifted you up like you weighed nothing at all, pulling your shirt over your head, his hands greedy as they roamed your now exposed skin.

Your breath was knocked out of you as your back hit the wall. Ghost's body pressed against you, his mouth still devouring yours, his tongue exploring and claiming every inch of your mouth.

One of his hands slid down your waist to your thighs, hiking up your legs around his waist, holding you pinned against the wall, completely under his control.

The sexy cry that escaped your lips and into his mouth sent a shock straight to Ghost's groin. His body shuddered with a mixture of need and control, his hands gripping your thighs tighter as he pressed himself even closer to you.

He pulled back, his mouth moving down to your neck, his lips and tongue exploring, tasting, marking the soft flesh.

The sound of your whimper, the way you pulled at his shirt, sent a wave of desire through Ghost. The need to feel your hands on him, skin to skin, was overwhelming.

He pulled back just enough to tear his shirt off, discarding it somewhere behind him. Now bare-chested, he pressed himself back against you, his body flush against yours, the heat of his skin seeping into you.

He continued his assault on your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, marking each spot as his. His lips moved down to your chest, planting wet kisses on your skin, each one sending another wave of desire through you.

He could feel you writhing against him, the way your body responded to his touch, making his body hot and heavy, craving more.

He went down kissing your chest, his tongue making hot circles around your small buds of nipples before he nipped and sucked them taking them in his mouth.

His other hand playing with the soft mound of your other breast. Your back arched, pleasure coursing through your veins as you craved for more. He continued his wet trails of kisses between your breasts and then all the way down your belly button.

You bit your finger in pleasure as his tongue made contact on the sensitive skin below your belly button.

Your panties came down in one smooth pull as he trailed kisses on your sensitive spot. He nips and bites at the skin of your hip.

The feeling of your body quivering against him, the sound of your gasps and moans filling the air, had Ghost's eyes darkening with desire. He took his time, feasting on your skin, as his tongue and mouth explored the sensitive spots on your hips, driving you wild.

He could feel you writhing, begging, body arching to get closer to him. He relished the sounds you made, the way you responded to his every touch. He nipped and bit at your hip, marking you, claiming you.

"You're so responsive," Ghost whispered huskily, his breath hot against your ear as he nipped and bit at your neck.

He could feel you trembling beneath him, your body arching towards his touch. His hand, strong and determined, made its way between your thighs, teasing and exploring. He lifted your leg up. His fingers stretching your folds making their way inside.

Simon! Your body arched towards him.

A low growl rumbled in his throat as your body arched towards him. The sound of his name on your lips, the way your body reacted to him, was driving him wild.

He pressed himself closer to you, his chest against yours, his breath hot and heavy on your skin. "I can't get enough of you," he whispered, his voice thick with desire.

His fingers continued their slow, teasing exploration inside you, driving you mad with need. He loved seeing you like this, completely undone, completely at his mercy.

Simon's fingers found the sweet spot inside you, and as he curled them up, a wave of pleasure washed over you, making your body arch against him. He held your chin in his other hand, his grip firm and steady, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"I love seeing you like this," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "So desperate, so needy for me."

Your face was wet from the tears of pleasure, but he couldn't get enough of the way you looked, completely undone and at his mercy.

He unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his jeans, his eyes never leaving you. The sight of you, trembling with desire, waiting for him, was more than he could bear.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he pressed his cock at your entrance, pushing it inside you. Your legs wrapped around him, pulling him closer, bringing him deeper.

His forehead pressed against yours as he drove his cock inside you.

Simon! You cried out his name. Your nails digging in his back. Fuck! You moaned.

"Don't hold back," he growled as his name spilled out from your lips, your nails digging into his back. "Let me hear you."

He continued to drive into you, each movement sending waves of pleasure through your body. You were lost in him, completely consumed by him.

"Oh babe," he rasped as your hands came up to cup his face, your eyes meeting his. The look in your eyes, the way you looked at him, was like fuel to the fire burning inside him.

He continued to drive his cock into you, his movements growing faster and more intense, his eyes locked on yours. "Don't look away," he commanded. "I want to watch you."

He picked you up with ease, carrying you to the bed that dominated the small bedroom. Your legs wrapped around him, taking him fully, and he pinned you against the mattress.

With a swift motion, his body was over yours, covering you, surrounding you.

"This is where you belong," he growled. "Under me, under my control."

"Oh Fuck me babe!" You moaned. "I am such a slut for you."

"Such a dirty little mouth and a pretty little cunt you have." He growled.

"That's it," he encouraged, his voice a low growl in your ear. "Let go, give yourself over to me. I've got you."

He continued to drive his cock into you, each movement more powerful than the last, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your body was taut and arching, trying to keep up with the pleasure he was bringing you.

You clutched the sheets and bit the pillow as the sensations threatened to overwhelm you. He was relentless, dominant, and he was taking you to the very edge.

He felt your body tense and arch beneath him, the wave of pleasure crashing over you like a tsunami. Your whimpers and moans turned into sobs as you succumbed to the intensity of your release.

He held your face in his large hands, his eyes locking with yours. He watched as the pleasure washed over you, his own desire growing stronger with each gasp and whimper that escaped your lips.

"That's it," he murmured, his voice rough and guttural. "Let it all out."

"Simon!" You sobbed his name breathlessly.

"Oh, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he took in the sight of you beneath him, breathless and sobbing.

His grip on your face tightened slightly, his eyes burning with need and desire. "You're so beautiful like this," he whispered, his voice a low rumble in his chest. "So lost in me. So completely mine."

He saw the tears fall from your eyes, the way your mascara streaked down your face, your lipstick smeared. You looked broken, completely undone, and it only served to drive his own desire even higher.

He leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath hot against your skin. "So beautiful," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "I did this to you, and I ain't finished yet."

"Oh my God." You whined.

His lips curved into a smug smile as your words escaped in a whine, a mixture of pleasure and exhaustion.

"Oh my god, is right," he chuckled, his voice low and sultry. "You've got no idea what I've got planned for you."

"Fuck!" You moaned.

He chuckled at your response, his voice deep and possessive. "That's right," he purred. "Let me hear you."

He continued to move inside you, his movements slow and deliberate, drawing out every moan and plea from your lips. "Say my name again," he commanded.

"Simon! Babe." You bit your lip.

"Yeah, that's it," he groaned, the sound of his name on your lips driving him wild. "Say it again."

He continued to move inside you, his pace picking up slightly, his body pressed against yours. "Louder," he demanded. "I want you to scream my name."

Si- Simon! You screamed breathlessly.

"That's it," he praised, his voice a low growl.

He could feel you clinging to him, your body shuddering and writhing beneath him as he drove into you. The sound of your scream was like music to his ears, driving his desire higher and higher.

"Say my name again," he demanded, his voice thick with need. "I want to hear you say it again."

Simon! You whispered.

"Oh, I love the sound of my name on your lips," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "But I need to hear you speak louder."

He continued to move inside you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge again. Each thrust was powerful, determined to make you scream his name louder.

"Say it again," he commanded, "louder this time."

"Simon! My love." You pleaded.

His heart skipped a beat at the words that came from your lips, a mixture of possession and tenderness overwhelming him.

He could feel your pleading, your need, your desire for him. It only fueled his own need, his own desire.

"Oh, you're killing me," he groaned, his voice rough and guttural. "Say it again, darling. Call me your love again."

"Simon! I love you so much." You whined.

At the sound of your voice, the words that you spoke, his body tensed against yours, the confession sending a rush of emotion through him.

He let out a deep, guttural moan, his voice low and rugged. "I love you, too," he murmured, his hands tightening their grip on you.

"Say it again," he demanded, his pace increasing, his body driven by a primal need. "Say you love me again."

"I love you. I love you so much." You cried.

Your words hit him like a wave, washing over him in a flood of emotions. He could feel the depth of your love, the sincerity of your confession, and it only made him crave you more.

His body trembled against yours, his movements erratic, driven by a primal need to claim you, to make you his.

"Again," he commanded, his voice a low growl. "Say it again. I need to hear you say it again."

He could hear the desperation in your words, the way you were pulling at your hair, and he knew you were close to the edge. The sight of you, desperate and needy, pleading for him, for his love, only sent his own desire spiralling out of control.

He felt his body tense against yours, his movements growing almost frantic as he strove to give you what you needed.

"Again," he demanded, his voice breathless and ragged. "Say you love me again. Scream it, baby."

"I love you babe." You broke out in tears.

"Oh, darling," he murmured, his voice almost a whisper as he saw the tears fall from your eyes. He felt a pang in his chest, a mixture of guilt and tenderness as he saw you broken beneath him.

He leaned down, his body covering yours, his lips finding the tears on your cheeks. "I love you," he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I love you so much, darling. Don't cry."

Oh babe! You felt like you were passing out. "I can't take it anymore." You pleaded.

He could sense that you were reaching your limit, that you were on the verge of passing out. But he couldn't stop, not now.

He leaned down, his mouth against your ear, his voice low and rough. "Yes, you can," he commanded. "You can take it. You're mine, only mine. You'll take whatever I give you. And you'll love every second of it."

He saw the look in your eyes as the next wave of pleasure washed over you, your body tightening and arching beneath him, your scream filling the room.

He held you tight as you passed out, the sound of your name a ragged whisper on his lips.

As he reached his release, his body trembled and tensed against yours. He groaned your name, the sound a mix of relief and pleasure, as he rode out the waves of his orgasm.

He collapsed beside you, pulling you close to him, his arms encircling you in a tight embrace. He felt exhausted, drained, but also incredibly satisfied.

You began to sob, your emotions raw and exposed, he held you close, his arms wrapping tightly around you. He could feel the tears against his chest, the way your body trembled against his.

"Shhh," he whispered, gently stroking your hair. "It's okay, darling."

He held you, letting you cry, his heart aching for the beautiful, broken woman in his arms.

[rainystarters]

๋࣭ ⭑𓆩✧𓆪🗡ྀ࿔ 〖 and other stories . . . 〗 a collection of dialogue + action prompts inspired by angela carter's the bloody chamber and other stories. some prompts usfw. add +reversed for the muse receiving the meme to perform the action instead. adjust details as necessary.

dialogue :

are you sure you want to marry him?

oh! how you must want me!

soon.

i had never been vain until i met you.

anticipation is the greater part of pleasure.

all the better to see you.

what is that key? the key to your heart?

every man must have one secret, even if only one, from his wife.

all is yours, everywhere is open to you.

but now... what shall i do now?

my darling, i cannot wait for the moment when you make me yours completely.

there is a striking resemblance between the act of love and the ministrations of a torturer.

you are in some great distress.

any bride brought to a castle should come ready dressed in mourning.

oh god. i can smell the blood.

i thought all these were old wives' tales, chattering of fools, spooks to scare bad children into good behavior!

can't it wait until morning, my darling?

who can say what i deserve or no?

i've done nothing; but that may be sufficient reason for condemning me.

i have a place prepared for your exquisite corpse upon my display of flesh.

good fellow? i am no good fellow.

forgive me for robbing your garden!

all she wanted, in the whole world, was one white, perfect rose.

and what else was there to be done?

they are the death of any tender herbivore.

so late! you will want sleep.

you will come back to me? it will be lonely here, without you.

i will come back. soon, before the winter is over.

i am sick and i must die.

if you'll have me, i'll never leave you.

i think i might be able to manage a little breakfast today.

i have lost my pearl, my pearl beyond price.

if you are so careless of your treasure, you should expect them to be taken from you.

for all my pride, my heart is heavy.

if you wish to give me money, then i should be pleased to receive it.

i shall twist a noose out of my bed linen and hang myself with it.

you are a woman of honor.

nothing human lives here.

we have dispensed with servants.

take off my clothes for you, like a ballet girl? is that all you want of me?

all cats are cynics.

you read my thoughts, my love.

the woods enclose. the wood swallows you up.

all will fall still, all lapse.

it is easy to lose yourself in these woods.

i thought that nobody was in the wood but me.

there are some eyes can eat you.

sometimes the birds, at random, all singing, strike a chord.

eat me, drink me.

dive in and fetch it for me.

now you are at the place of annihilation.

and she is herself a cave full of echoes, she is a system of repetitions, she is a closed circuit.

can a bird sing only the song it knows or can it learn a new song?

beauty is a symptom of disorder, of soullessness.

a single kiss woke up the sleeping beauty in the wood.

be he alive or be he dead.

coffee. you must have coffee.

welcome. welcome to my chateau.

i rarely receive visitors and that's a misfortune since nothing animates me half as much as the presence of a stranger.

this place is so lonely.

now the village is deserted.

often i am so silent that i think i, too, will soon forget how to do so and nobody will ever talk any more.

i must apologize for the lack of light.

you have such a fine throat, like a column of marble.

i am condemned to solitude and dark.

i do not mean to hurt you.

i will be very gentle.

and could love free me from the shadows?

i've been waiting for you in my wedding dress, why have you delayed for so long.

you will feel no pain, my darling.

so delicate and damned, poor thing. quite damned.

the end of exile is the end of being.

it is a northern country; they have cold weather, they have cold hearts.

the devil is as real as you or i.

do not leave the path.

you are always in danger in the forest.

they are as unkind as plague.

fear and flee the wolf; for, worst of all, the wolf may be more than he seems.

besides, aren't you afraid of the wolves?

actions :

clasp. from behind, the sender places their hands over the receiver's eyes.

opera. through opera glasses, the sender watches the receiver.

choker. the sender fastens a gemstone necklace around the receiver's neck.

carriage. the sender locks the receiver in with them in their train compartment.

spine. the sender presses a kiss to the back of the receiver's bare neck.

cigar. the sender leans in and blows smoke in the receiver's face.

ermine. the sender wraps the furs around the receiver tighter as the snow falls.

keys. the sender silently enters the room and listens to the receiver play piano.

harem. the sender undresses the receiver before a collection of mirrors.

lazy. the sender brings the receiver breakfast in bed.

call. the sender calls the receiver and bursts into tears upon hearing their voice.

note. the sender discovers a love letter sent to the receiver from a previous lover.

death. the sender finds the receiver with the body of their latest victim.

hospitality. the sender watches from the shadows as the receiver take refuge from a storm in the sender's seemingly abandoned home.

servant. invisible, the sender feeds/washes/cares for the receiver.

hearth. the sender and the receiver talk past midnight by the fire's light.

hands. the sender falls to their knees before the receiver and kisses their hands.

bouquet. the sender has a hundred white roses sent to the receiver.

reunion. the sender lays eyes upon the receiver for the first time in an age.

bad luck. the sender hangs their head having lost a bet to the receiver.

voice. the sender sends their valet to speak their desires to the receiver.

powder. the sender dresses/makes up the receiver before an important night.

stallion. the sender grabs the reins of the receiver's horse and leads them away.

weep. the sender cries at the sight of the receiver in such a state.

dry. the sender brushes a tear from the receiver's cheek.

flush. the sender pinches the receiver's skin, watching it redden with blood.

prey. the sender guides the receiver's hands as together they skin a rabbit.

song. the sender sings and the receiver is spellbound, their feet following their song's command.

caught. the sender locks the receiver into a cage.

green. by the sender's command, the growth begins to take over the receiver.

tarot. the sender tells the receiver they are doomed to a sad fate.

stain. the sender touches the bloodstain on the receiver's white negligée.

wild. the sender rides hard through the night, chasing the receiver.

thirst. the sender sinks their teeth into the neck of the receiver.

china. the sender pours tea for the receiver and offers them biscuits.

blemish. the sender explores the receiver's skin and finds the mark of a witch.

wolf. the wolf reveals themself to be the sender before the receiver.

muzzle. the sender kisses the monstrous mouth of the receiver.

[lovely-peace]

Somebody that i used to know

Summary: You were cursed. By a goddess of the loveliest thing of all. And cruelty. You just couldn't stop loving him. Even now. When he is just somebody you used to know.

Pairing: Luke castellan x Apollo child! Reader

Warnings: Angst no comfort, guilt, mentioned poison, mentioned death, contains spoilers for the series, English is not my first language(tell me if there is more)

I worked on this for like a month and I am still not very proud. But if you like this tell me, I am working on the second part (this is unfinished) but it already has 7,1k words.

'Sing muse', he says, 'sing for me'. His sadness is unfounded. He has never felt sorry for anyone, how could he? He only thinks of himself. Just like all the gods.

'Why this time? The muse kalliope asks him.

His eyes darken.

'It's none of your business,' he says. Of course it's not. He just wants her to sing. 'What about?' She asks him again.

He lowers his eyes. 'About a father, he says, who lost his daughter. To the greatest evil of all.

About the father, of course, not about the daughter. The muse suppresses a sigh. 'Lost to what?

'To somebody damned.' His gaze sweeps the hyacinths. 'To love.'

--------------------------------------------------

My final arrow remains untouched in my grasp, a stark contrast to the crimson stains that mar the others. The weight of it feels heavy, a burden I am not sure I can bear any longer.

"So?"

The mocking tone of the divine voice pierces through me, emanating from the woman before me. Her beauty is a facade, masking the darkness that resides within her very being.

I yearn to use the arrow, to pierce through the emptiness where her heart should reside. Or just use him on myself. To let my own heart bleed out until there is nothing left.

"It's all over now," she declares with a smile that sends shivers down my spine. I never shared the hatred of you. But I understood it. And now I think I could even share it.

"What will you do next?" My voice is hoarse, a mere whisper of its former self, tainted by her presence.

"Do not fret," she chuckles, her eyes filled with a haughty arrogance only a deity could possess.

"I will leave you alone with your suffering. Don't blame me. Curse your father cause he ever had you. Blame him for all your sorrow, that he never tried to take from you. I act only to protect my own honor."

I clench the arrow tightly, prepared to end it all. To descend into the darkness with you.  Yet, I cannot. I still have siblings to care for, a family that still needs me.

If I give up now, all of this will be lost. I cannot let her win, cannot let her render your sacrifice meaningless.

"Who is he to you now, after all the pain he has caused?" Her smirk is a cruel reminder of the countless others she has broken.

And she waits. Waits for me to say the words she had heard thousands of times before.

Now and then I think of when we were together

I remember how I got to know you. I was sitting with Chiron when the message arrived. A very special girl is out there fighting. A girl from the big three. A girl who wasn't allowed to exist.

~

"Chiron, chiron!!!" screamed a satyr rushing into the main house and gasping. His hair disheveled and out of breath, he stood there. "The border, the girl is fighting - Zeus!"

Chiron stood up and put our cards away. Unlucky. For the first time I was winning. "Calm down. What's going on?"

"Monsters are at the border! A whole wave of them! A girl is fighting down there. Probably one of the older three." Chiron turned pale.

"Go back to your cabin right now. Now!" he ordered me and galloped off. I should have obeyed, but I was curious and wanted to help. So I ran after him.

~

Don't take it personally, but when we first met, I only had eyes for the girl down the hill.

The monster wave that she was somehow holding up alone.

Her wild eyes and the way she looked back. Chiron wanted to help her but it was already too late. The monster took a swing and the life in her eyes wanted to escape.

The whole sky lit up and lightning flashed downwards. My first thought was that Zeus would save her.

Her father will safe her surely?

How naive. The great godfather is probably thinking how noble he was.

I, on the other hand, remember exactly how her eyes and legs froze. How her arms twitched and went up. How slowly her shoes became roots. How her legs turned into wood. How this transformation slowly moved upwards. How she screamed. But she didn't look back at us. No, she looked up and screamed.

That screams were terrifying. Death screams.

That's when it became clear to me. How our parents played with us.

That they called something like that mercy.

It must have been much worse for you. The way Annabeth cried and thrashed around while you had to watch her suffer. I often wondered if Thalia was still conscious. Whether she was still suffering.

Well, until she woke up again. Because of you.

~

I stared at this girl while her screams tore the air.

"Chiron, what's happening? Why isn't he helping her?" I burst into tears and held on to the centaur's front legs. "Why is he hurting her?"

"THALIA!!!" screamed the boy holding the little blonde girl. She was also screaming and trying to free herself from his grip. He covered her ears, but she only cried worse.

"You're supposed to protect us! Help her already!" The boy shouted at Chiron while he shook his head regretfully. Thalia looked up into the sky and cried out one last time. The silence that followed was almost worse.

"It's too late, my boy. This is the best way her father could have helped her." Slowly, Chiron walked towards the two of them.

"Are you kidding me?" the boy's eyes flashed as the girl in his arms tried to wriggle out of his grip, weaker and weaker. "That should have helped her? He could have just smashed the monsters with lightning if he's so all-powerful!"

Chiron's eyes were so full of compassion that it sent a cold shiver down my spine. I wonder how many times he had heard those words.

"I'm sorry." Chiron went to his knees with his front hooves and looked at the two of them with a gentle gaze. "The best thing we can do is-"

"Thalia! Thalia!" the blonde girl screamed and her tears ran. "Thalia!"

"Annabeth..." the boy let go of the little girl, whose name was apparently Annabeth. Without any strength, she sank to the ground in front of the centaur. "Turn her back! Please..." she whimpered.

Chiron's eyes became incredibly soft. "I'm afraid I can't do that," he finally said. "And even if I could, she would only die. Like this  she's still with us. We should honor her, not mourn her."

Annabeth cried harder and ran back to the boy. And even though I didn't know the girl, I was angry at Zeus for turning his daughter into a tree. He could have helped her. Why didn't he do it?

If he had, this girl, who was far too young, would no longer be crying.

~

I still remember exactly how I was supposed to show you both around. How ridiculous that seemed to me after what you had just been through. Your eyes were full of despair as you looked around. When I led you to Cabin 11.

This worn-out cabin where we were all supposed to rot until our parents took pity on us. I had been in there for a whole year before you came. Did you ever know that?

~

Chiron turned to me. He helped me to calm down and looked at me sternly. "Didn't I tell you to go to your cabin? Stubborn girl." he said, smiling gently. "Would you show these two around, please? Cabin 11 as usual."

"Chiron, I can't do that now." I couldn't look him in the eyes. The tears had stopped but my head throbbed.

"You have to be strong for them now," he interrupted me in a whisper. "Right now we have to welcome them with open arms. Show them that they are safe here now."

With that, he galloped off and left us alone. The boy eyed me suspiciously while the girl was still sitting on the ground.

"Hey..." I began as I walked over to them. "I should show you around, is that okay?"

The boy didn't answer and just looked at the little girl. Annabeth turned to me. Without saying anything, she stood up and nodded. Strong girl.

"Then follow me." I looked at the boy expectantly, but he made no move. Finally, the girl spoke up. "Come on Luke," her voice trembled slightly. "Grover said we were safe here and Thalia fought for us to be here. So come on."

At these words, the boy walked over to us. We walked around slowly. Past the main building and then finally to the cabins.

"These are the twelve cabins. Each cabin represents which god is your parent. Since we don't know that for you yet, you'll go to the 11th cabin first. That's Hermes cabin."

"But we know who Luke's is...," Annabeth began, but the boy named Luke interrupted her. "Why do we have to sleep in this cabin? Why is it so crowded?"

This question put me on the spot. I hated to admit what our parents were really like. I'd been here for a year and a half and still... "Well, the gods must claim their children so that we can divide them up into their cabins."

Luke's gaze turned cold. "And all these children weren't claimed? That's why they have to squeeze in here when there are so many free cabins?" I nodded.

"Who's your parent?" Annabeth asked me. I looked away again, embarrassed. "I haven't been claimed yet either."

Luke shook his head slowly. He stared at the symbol of hermes. "Gods only want to feel great about themselves."

I led the two of them into the cabin and showed them where they could sleep. Annabeth took a seat near Luke and remained silent. I just couldn't believe that she had to watch all this. It was too awful.

"What's your name?" Luke's voice surprised me. For the first time, he looked at me. I told him my name. We were silent for a while. But I told them about the days here and about the campfire.

Luke just nodded and layed down on his sleeping bag. Annabeth looked at him almost desperately. But she stayed with him.

"Hey, do you want me to show you the training grounds?" I asked her to take her mind off things.

She looked over at luke in silence. He turned to the other side. "Go on, Annabeth. I'm exhausted, but you don't have to stay with me."

She looked at him for a long time but then stood up. "Okay, show me." she finally said and I had to smile.

"Just follow me." We walked out of the cabin, but at the cabin door I checked on luke again. He was staring at the staff of hermes on the top of the wall.

Finally, I turned around and showed Annabeth the training places. "Here, for example," I began. "Can we find you a special weapon against the monsters."

She shook her head. "Not necessary." She took out a dagger. "I already have this one."

At first glance, the dagger looked normal, but on closer inspection I saw that it was made of heavenly bronze.

"Where did you get it?" I looked at her in surprise. She was very young, why did she already have such a weapon? She looked away, embarrassed. "Luke gave it to me."

I preferred not to think about the fact that Luke had given a little girl a knife to defend herself with. I'd rather just show her the other places.

It was getting late and we went back to the cabin to join the others for dinner. When we arrived, luke was still lying just as rigid as before. Cabin 11 lined up, but Luke stayed put.

"Luke, we're having dinner." I sat down next to him. He was still looking up. Stubbornly. "I'm not hungry."

"You have to eat something." "I'll eat later." "But we always eat together." "Then we'll just make an exception." "It's not that easy. You'll get into trouble." "But I'm not hungry."

I had to sigh. Did I say stubborn? It was much worse. It was like I was talking to a wall.

He was still looking up. His posture was stiff and he didn't look like he had slept.  I looked outside and watched the others who had already gone ahead. Outside, the trees were rustling and the sun was shining. As if the lord of heaven wasn't mourning his daughter. As if she had never existed.

"Luke," I began, my voice surprisingly bitter. "I understand that this is hard for you. I can't say I know exactly how you feel, of course, but we're all half-bloods. All sent here by the gods and abandoned by them. That's why we stick together. We are a family. We help each other. Annabeth seems to like it here. At least come for her today. You don't have to eat much, just a little, please."

Silence. I looked at him and realized that he had sat up, turned and was already looking at me. Suddenly he was very close.

"You like to talk, don't you?" he said and shame flooded through me. I quickly looked away and kicked myself in my head.

What was I thinking preaching to this boy after he had lost his friend? I was Terrible.

"Sorry..." I mumbled and felt myself blushing out of embarrassment, I got up and went to the door to escape this horrible moment.

"Hey, wait!" he shouted as I was about to leave. "Don't run away. I didn't mean it that way. You still have to show me the way to your dining room or whatever."

When I dared to look at him again, he smiled. And it was so beautiful. "Oh."

He laughed at this very imaginative answer and I had to smile. Eventually we went to dinner together.

The others were already eating when we joined them. Of course, our table was the most crowded. Annabeth looked very lost as she sat there uncomfortably. Of course, Luke sat across from her and smiled at her. Her shoulders relaxed immediately. I sat down next to her and she nodded at me.

"Just say what you want to drink, the cup will fill itself. And oh, leave some over so you can throw it in the fire." Luke looked at me questioningly. I shrugged my shoulders. "Offerings for the gods. They like the smell."

Most people would have laughed now. The smell? But Luke didn't laugh. No, his eyes narrowed and his hands clenched around his cup. "Of course." he said, his voice bitter again. "They want offerings."

The awkward silence between us after that was oppressive. Annabeth looked up cautiously at Luke and then quickly back down at her food. At some point, I tried to get us out of the situation. I stood up.

"Let's throw the food into the fire. Then we can finally get to the campfire!" I went ahead and Annabeth followed me. Eventually even Luke.

"What are we even doing at the campfire?" asked annabeth after she had put her leftovers in the campfire.

I winked at her. "Let it surprise you."

We were among the last to join the campfire, as we started eating later. We sat and listened to the Apollo children sing and watched the stars.

But when we arrived, the others took a deep breath. Chiron fell to his knees and began to speak.

"Welcome child of Athena, divine warrior, goddess of wisdom and strategy." Annabeth's eyes shone.

Chiron took a deep breath and turned to luke. "Welcome child of hermes, protector of travelers, merchants, lord of thieves and the great messenger of the gods."

Everyone clapped, including me. I hadn't noticed the signs at first because I was sitting next to them and hadn't looked up. Somehow it made me sad that Annabeth had to move now, but I was pleased that their parents had shown their appreciation.

But Luke didn't seem at all surprised. Not happy either. He scowled into the fire and just nodded. I was a little envious of him too. Not even a day here and they were already claimed. Me, on the other hand...

~

Like when you said you felt so happy you could die

We quickly became closer. Something drew me to this boy. It was nothing surprising, he looked beautiful. He wasn't just any boy. He was a golden masterpiece. But it went deeper than just his looks.

We thought very similarly.

I saw in his eyes this urge that we all shared. He wanted to show them. Rub under their noses what they were doing wrong. We shared that anger.

~

I crept quietly into the sword-fighting hall. I couldn't actually handle a sword, but that wasn't what I was here for. I was looking for someone. And sure enough, I found him here. He was training. Like every day.

He was great. Hit every training figure at the right point and swung his sword frighteningly well. I kept quiet and watched him. I didn't want to disturb him yet, he seemed so obsessed.

I watched him for a while until he seemed to be finished. Then he suddenly turned and looked at me. "If you're going to watch me, do it more discreetly."

Once again, I felt terrible and wanted to sink into the floor. "I didn't want to," I began but couldn't find the words. Eventually I just buried my face in my hands.

But he just laughed in response. "It's all right. Don't always worry so much." He came up to me and sat down next to me. We were silent for a while.

"Why?" I interrupted the silence. He looked at me questioningly. "Why are you training so hard?"

He looked at the floor and I suddenly felt bad. "I mean, we all train hard!" I tried to save myself. "But you train so much you seem... Angry." Obsessed.

He laughed again. But this laugh sounded rather bitter.

"My father wants to get me a quest. That's what he said, anyway." he said, continuing to look at the ground. His smile was still bitter.

I looked at him confused. "But that's a good thing, isn't it?"

"Maybe. Maybe not."

That was the end of the conversation. I didn't dare ask him any more about it, he seemed so far away. His eyes were fixed on his training sword as he twirled it in his hands.

When the sun shone on him, I realized for the first time how beautiful he actually was. He seemed to glow. I quietly watched his movements. I could have sat there all day. At some point he looked at me with a smile. And the tension in my shoulders, which I hadn't even noticed before, melted away.

"Do I have something on my face?" he laughed as I quickly turned away to hide my glowing face. "Come on, what's wrong?" he finally asked.

"Nothing." I replied. "Sometimes you just look so... Absent."

He fell silent again, but it wasn't an awkward silence. After a while, he sighed loudly and looked at me. His eyes seemed to express his vulnerability for the first time.

"I... Am just so...Angry sometimes! The gods, they rule our lives and at the same time they do nothing in it. Don't get me wrong, I like it here, the people are all great and I get along well with them. But I'm still so desperate! I can't do anything here. Just sit here all my life and trust that they have something planned for me up there."

I fell silent in response. He picked up a stone and threw it into the forest. "Don't you think we're going to perish because of them?"

"Maybe. Maybe not." I smiled at him. "Only the fates could know."

I picked up a smaller stone and threw it into the forest too. "You know..." I looked up into the sun, which perhaps also warmed me from the inside. "I have to admit that I've always been pretty indifferent to the gods. I was just happy to be able to live here." I threw a larger stone.

"But I've seen so much in a short time. Heard so much suffering. And the gods let it all happen. Often it's even because of them. And this is supposed to be our family?" I shook my head. "They don't care about us."

Wordlessly, he looked at the stones I had thrown. His back was tense and his eyes narrowed. I smiled cautiously at him.

"What I want to say, Luke, is don't worry too much about them. They don't waste a thought on us. Don't give them the satisfaction of wasting too many on them."

His tense back relaxed a little and he closed his eyes. Then he smiled again.

"You really like to talk."

~

Eventually you got the quest. Who was surprised? You seemed born to be a hero. It all happened far too quickly and suddenly you were supposed to go on this quest. Seventeen. What a horrible age that was. I was so deep down in the curse she send down on me. And then you were supposed to leave. I made so many mistakes the night before.

~

"I wish I could go with him." Annabeth sat with me in the forest and we watched the doves above us flying around together. "Annabeth..." I began, but she was already shaking her head. "I know I can't." she just mumbled and looked away.

She was far too young to be thinking about such quests. But when you grow up here and your only chance of being noticed by your parents are dangerous tasks, many have already become careless.

I watched as the white flower danced in the wind in front of me. It was a lily. The wind seemed to play with it and carried it around. And she just let it do that to her.

I picked up a stone and clasped it in my hand. Instead of throwing it, I held on to it, hoping never to let it go.

"Do you think he... You know... Can do it?" I asked her, squeezing tighter. Annabeth smiled at me.

"Of course he will! Luke can do anything, he's a great hero! Don't worry about it."

The flower was pushed slightly to the right by the wind and then looked at the ground.

My hand started to hurt, but I kept squeezing.

"You're right."

Annabeth smiled at me. I returned it a little awkwardly. We heard the dinner bell ring and Annabeth jumped up. She looked at me waiting.

"Go on ahead."

She hesitated at first but then finally ran off. When she was out of sight, I sighed loudly. I leaned against the tree behind me.

She could say that so easily. But I had seen so many campers go on quests. How they came back broken. Or how they were never seen again. Never see Luke again? The thought seemed unbearable.

A white dove landed next to the lily and tilted its head. Her gaze pierced me and my heart began to pound wildly.

I threw the stone at the white flower. The pigeon flew away in fright and I felt much better. The stone had hit the blossom of the flower but it remained slightly bent. Something red rubbed off on it.

Oh.

"There's our little criminal." Luke grinned at me as I came to the campfire. I tried to avoid his gaze, but somehow it still warmed me. "I thought we always ate together at dinner?"

I shrugged and sat down with him and the others from the cabin as usual. But today I put some distance between Luke and me.

"Wasn't hungry." I looked into the fire and tried to look very interested in the flames.

I was a bad liar.

"And since when is that an excuse?" he leaned forward slightly, closing the distance I had so diligently built up. His playful smile haunted my eyes. "You broke the rules!"

I laughed softly. "They're not as strict as I told you back then. I was just worried and wanted you to eat something."

He grabbed his chest dramatically. "You lied to me? How could you?"

He inconspicuously moved a little closer, as if I couldn't feel his every move. As if my heart didn't almost explode with each one. "Wait, you were worried?"

"Of course." I stroked my closed hand and continued to look into the fire. "You seemed so... Distant. You had made a big loss. I didn't want you to let yourself down."

"Oh is that so..." his voice was incredibly close. I nodded and continued to stare intently into the fire.

At some point he took my closed hand and now it was him who stroked it.

I noticed how others were watching us. I noticed how the fire seemed to dance. I noticed that annabeth was not here. I even noticed the little sparrows watching us in the trees above. Everything seemed so real and so far away at the same time. I wanted to die. I wanted to live.

I was embarrassed.

"Luke." I hated that my voice was shaking slightly. "Are you prepared?"

Luke laughed softly. "I've got my sword if that's what you mean. It's not as if my father gave me an original task. I already know what to expect, Heracles already had to do it."

He picked up a stick and threw it into the fire. "Before you know it, I'll be back."

I remained silent. The flames danced around him.

Actually, I wanted to say something else entirely. So much had to be said today, otherwise I might never be able to.

"What did you do with your hand? It's bleeding." He looked away as he said it. But his hand continued to rub over my closed hand. It burned but no longer hurt.

I shrugged my shoulders. "I fell stupidly. It's nothing big."

I was stupid.

He looked at me and I dared to look back. His eyes were so beautiful, but also a little sad.

"I can ask you to look after Annabeth while I'm away, can't I?" his voice sounded like a whisper.

I smiled back timidly. "I thought you'd be back before I even realized you were gone?"

He laughed in response. So freely and without constraint, I couldn't help but giggle a little too.

The trees were rustling and the sun was setting. With every second that it moved a little further towards the horizon, I felt more uncomfortable. His quest was getting closer and closer and maybe our last minute was too.

I was afraid.

"I will watch over her," I whispered at some point. "Even though I don't think she needs my protection."

He smiled uncertainly into the fire. "Maybe."

There was a long silence after that. I want to ask him so many things. Questions that never seemed appropriate to me. I don't know how much time we have left. But in this moment, I realize that it will never be enough. The gods have already taken her from us.

"Luke," my voice sounds unbelievably soft, I could cry. "You mentioned that Hermes told you he would give you a quest. You have already met him, haven't you? Not just in dreams."

His gaze remains on the fire. His eyes became slightly darker and I was about to take back my words and hide.

"Yes, we met once. It wasn't a pleasant day."

I saw him swallow and his hand closed around mine, which was bleeding. But it seemed more like he was bleeding.

"I... I went back to my old home because Annabeth, Thalia, and I needed some things. It was a mistake to go back there."

He never talked about his former home. Never about the time before Thalia, before Annabeth.

I want to ask him, to hold him in my arms, but I don't know where his boundaries lie.

"Was it bad?" His eyes meet mine and already give me the answer. They say 'yes.' 'It was unbearable.'

But he says nothing. Not a word.

The others are all gone now. The fire is getting smaller and the darkness is becoming more present.

"You know," he starts. "I don't know him." He takes a deep breath in and out. "Hermes. He's just a character in legends, supposedly my father. But I don't know him. I saw him once. And then I realized how little he really loves me. He left her alone."

I don't need to ask to know that he's talking about his mother. I know this feeling all too well.

"He was never there." His voice gets louder. "Never did anything. He knew! He knew about her episodes and never did anything! He just let me rot with her. And then he says that I made a mistake..." He trails off.

The silence that follows his wounded voice brings tears to my eyes.

He looks at me in panic. "No! I... It wasn't like that... Please don't cry!"

I can't help but cry even harder. I know what that's like. Alone with a woman who doesn't know what to do with herself. Without any support.

"Please..." his voice whispers as he wipes away my tears. "I'm fine."

You liar.

Told myself that you were right for me

"Are you ready to go back to the cabin?" his voice was so close to my ear as he held me in his arms.

I didn't look at him. I just couldn't look at him when it could be the last time.

"You go on."

I could feel him stiffen. His voice sounded a little strange when he spoke. "Why?"

I broke away from him. "You need to rest because of tomorrow."

I could feel him trying to catch my gaze. "So do you."

"I want to stay out for a while."

"You're breaking the rules."

"As if you care about them."

His voice became a little sharper. "What's wrong with you?"

I stood up. "I hate just thinking about you..."

"Yeah?"

"It's all good. The main thing is that you get some rest." I walked towards the forest. "Just let me clear my head. Please."

He wanted to say something. I sensed it. But he didn't say anything. Just stood up and walked to our cabin.

I trudged through the darkness to where I was talking to Annabeth.

The lillie was still standing. She was bent over and barely standing, but she was standing.

And then there was this eerie presence.

"I find it very rude when people throw stones at me."

But felt so lonely in your company

Despite my great faith in you, I sometimes couldn't follow you. Your thoughts were too much for me.

And you were you. I was me. Everyone in the camp loved you and always wanted to be with you. I was just one of so many.

Although I was with you so often, I understood so little about you.

I was alone in my faith.

After your quest, you changed. I didn't want to admit it but I realized it reluctantly. You also pushed me away from you more and more. And when I was claimed by Apollo at 17, you distanced yourself even more.

I was claimed far too late. I often asked myself why at that particular time. So soon after he had failed in his quest.

But when I think about it, maybe it makes sense. My father was the god of foresight. Maybe he wanted to save me from it when he realized what was going to happen.

Even if it's a nice thought, it's probably not true. Apollo can't see into the future. He can only tell a prophecy that he can't even interpret himself.

If I had received a prophecy, would anything have changed? Would I have behaved differently? Probably not.

Because although I realized that you had closed yourself off from me, I continued to approach you. I always went to you at the campfire. I always took your side at capture the flag.

One evening I didn't sat next to you at the fire. Next to you sat a beautiful girl from the Aphrodite cabin. I heard her talking to you.

"Why are you even talking to her?"

It was at the campfire. I was sitting far away, protected by the shadows of the trees. Nevertheless, I heard it loud and clear.

You didn't answer at first. The girl shifted uncomfortably. "Don't get me wrong," she said, "we all have these people we've known for so long that we're just always with them. But she always seems so out of place somehow."

I slipped further into the shadows of the trees. The moon hung just as it had that special night.

And yet it seemed so different.

"She's just always near you. Even now that she lives in cabin 7." Her voice sounded amused and I felt small.

"Yes, she's very desperate. "

Was it also a mistake to cry for you that night?

But that was love, and it's an ache I still remember

Unfortunately, my love for you didn't diminish. On the contrary, it grew stronger and stronger. Or maybe I only realized how strong it was when I knew that I was being too pushy with it.

I disappeared into the forest that evening and cried for hours. I don't know how you found me. Obviously you didn't know what I had overheard and asked me what was going on. You even made a worried face.

I couldn't answer you. Instead, you took me in your arms again and wiped away the tears on my cheeks. You whispered words of encouragement to me. And I let you be. Because I fell in love with you again. Isn't that pathetic?

I tried to stay away from you. Tried not to be so pushy. But you kept coming back to me. On days when I was only in the cabin, you came to me. Talked to me. Suddenly you were attentive. You thought I was feeling bad and tried to cheer me up.

And then you kissed me.

And when I was near you again, you never mentioned it. Again.

Suddenly you were distant again. I didn't know what to do. I felt so alone. I often wondered what you even saw in me. I was too caught up in my suffering that I couldn't see how you were. I was too confused by your behavior that I couldn't see the reasons behind it.

How were you? I don't know.

You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness

I was trapped in my feelings for you. It was always the same process. You distanced yourself, I distanced myself, you approached me, we spent wonderful moments, I was with you again and you distanced yourself again.

And despite all the nights I cried, I always gave in. I kept letting you in on my feelings. You were simply the only one I could love. Why? I don't know. Maybe Aphrodite herself hated me. Or the fates.

I certainly hated myself.

Like resignation to the end, always the end So when we found that we could not make sense Well, you said that we would still be friends

Somewhere I had already given up. I loved you, but I had given up on us. I often saw you with other girls. They were all so much more beautiful than me, how could I think otherwise?

How could I try to understand your actions?

I was alone with my own self-doubt. With my own fears. What were you alone with?

I was too self-centered to see all these signs. Even when Percy came to camp and you were even less with me. My little siblings feel sorry for me. They see me as a girl hopelessly in love. Do you see it? What you've made of me?

Do you remember the evening before Percy came to the camp? The evening you visited me after I had kissed another boy. I was so terrible lonely to the time. And when this boy kissed me in front of the campfire I didn't fight it. He didn't even mean it. But you were still so angry when you came into my cabin. You kissed me like you wanted to make my lips yours again. Like they were ever someone else's.

When you kissed me that evening, I was filled with such a strong longing that I couldn't think. I allowed myself to return your kiss with such passion that I felt dizzy. Your arms pulled me closer to you. Fire seemed to burn all over my body.

As we lay on my bed and continued kissing, I started to cry. You stopped and moved away from me.

"What's wrong? Have I done something wrong?" Your voice sounded panicked. I cried even harder.

Tell me, do you think you've done something wrong?

As always, you wanted to take me in your arms but this time I pushed you away. I didn't want to cry in your arms when it was the same thing that made me cry in the first place. It was all so much. I remember the way you looked at me. For the first time I may have hurt you.

"I love you."

Oh how I wish I had said it. But I kept crying quietly.

"I'm sorry."

Did you want to say it at that moment?

But you didn't. And that's what mattered. You left.

I saw you with Percy when he was new. Admired you as always because you showed him everything like I used to show you. Because you didn't show him your pain because of the gods too much.

When Percy looked to see if he was a child of Apollo, he was with me. You too, because of course you wanted to help him. We talked normally again as we always did after that  night when you had visited me.

Percy asked us if we were a couple. I still remember your face clearly. You looked at me hesitantly. As if I should answer. I smiled back at him.

"We're just friends."

What would have happened if I had said something else? Again, something I don't know. But I know one thing for sure. You had an iron look on your face afterwards.

You always looked at Percy funny afterwards too.

You didn't visit me the next nights.

But I'll admit that I was glad it was over

When Percy went on his big quest, you were like a different person. You completely ignored me. Your face looked like there was so much worry behind your eyes. And even though I saw all that, I didn't go to you.

I was so afraid that you would ignore me too if I approached you. Fear. Such a simple excuse and yet the only reason. You really broke me.

At first I thought it was because you had your own quest to think about. Of your own suffering and that percy, grover and especially annabeth could fail in the same way. I thought that was the only reason you were so introverted.

Then why didn't your behavior change even after they succeeded?

It even got worse. You were just training for days with no end. You only practiced sword fighting. As if you desperately wanted to improve. I thought maybe you were very bitter because they had completed the quest and you hadn't completed yours. That's why you wanted to improve so badly.

Or that you wanted to prepare for something.

But you didn't have to cut me off

~ The camp was... Eerily quiet. No one was out. As if no one dared to speak on such a morning. Will, a very young brother of mine, ran towards me.

"Percy's hurt!" he shouted, "We need your help!"

I rushed with him to the main building, where Percy was lying in a bed, with Annabeth and Chiron sitting by his side.

"What happened?" I asked as I looked at his wounds.

"He was stung by a scorpion or something..." said annabeth. Then she looked down. "Anyway, that's what he said... In his sleep."

I had to stop myself from frowning and got to work. Will left the room.

After a short while, he woke up. And then he said it.

"It was Luke."

Everything went quiet.

"What are you talking about?" I asked with a forced smile.

Percy sat up carefully. "It was Luke. He's the lightning thief."

Annabeth stiffened and Chiron sat there without saying anything.

"What are you saying?" I stopped cooling his forehead.

Annabeth sighed and looked away. Chiron seemed to understand what was going on.

"Luke poisoned me. Luke helped kron- the titan king." Percy's voice echoed through the room. Or was it just my head?

"You still seem to be affected by the poison." I tried to sound as normal as possible.

"No, he's right." annabeth shook her head. "That would explain a lot."

"What are you saying, Annabeth? You of all people should-" I began, my voice getting louder and louder.

"Percy would never lie." chiron interrupted me.

I looked at him. And ran out of the building.

And as I saw that he wasn't in the camp, my whole wirld collapsed. It wasn't just that he abandoned us. He didn't even talk to me.

He didn't even consider talking to me.

[kyruskumiho27]

Warnings: •Killing • death •fluff •enemies to lovers •idiots to lovers

Summary: a bond is broken. ( you=pink/ Sukuna=red) lot of yapping in this before it gets to the actual fluff. Not related to the other one, had an idea and didn’t like how that one came out so this is a better, newer improved version.

“What a shame…” you muse, gazing at the man with soft eyes. “What a shame we’re not meant to be..”

He grunts, cocking his head at you. He’s made no attempt to approach you, to even attack you for that matter. His warmth radiates off his skin, shoulders squared like they’re prepared for a fight.

“We could be…” He looked so utterly confident in himself, like he couldn’t imagine anything else could possibly be more difficult.

You quirk a brow. “We’ve been at this longer than expected, longer than imagined.” You snort.

“It could be destiny, why not break our chains and-“

“We are enemies, no?” You interrupt, tilting your head. He grins. “Can enemies not love?”

What a joke. A joke and silly game he’s playing to try and weaken me. And what if he’s right.“There is bo rule saying enemies can’t be lovers… in fact, I think you humans romanticize it.”

“Do you love me Sukuna, truly?”

The question causes him to pause, brows furrowed. Love? How could he love someone, him, a curse. The king of curses.

“I care for you.” He says bluntly, unwilling to admit that he might be, maybe in lo-

“Yet you desire to kill me.”

He rolls his eyes. That is not what he was talking about. But yes. He did want to kill you. For centuries on end it’s been this back and forth between you two. An angel of light fighting the King of curses. And yet, no matter how close he gets, you always manage to slip away.

You giggle to yourself. “Maniac.” His eyes widen in amusement. He could listen to your laughs all day.

Your puffs of air as you try not to admit to yourself that you enjoy the Kings company. Why haven’t you killed him yet? The answer slips past your mind, you can never remember. You were made to destroy him, yes. But you never do so when given the chance.

“You are lonely.” You say, staring at Sukuna. He nods.

“It’s a never ending cycle, never ending battle. I catch you but you always manage to escape. We are doomed for eternity.”

“I am right here.”

“You are.”

So close and yet so far. A slight frown appears on his far. “Just out of my reach.” He sniffs, cracking his back as he gazes upon you.

The definition of beauty and grace.

“Why is that? I am right here.” He huffs.

“I am aware.”

You glare at him. He’s avoiding your questions and your starting to get annoyed. “Why?”

He scowls. “You know damn well why.” He snaps, teeth bared in frustration. That is not a straight answer. You stare at him blankly, frowning.

The truth seems just out of your reach. No matter how hard you try to concentrate, it’s never revealed. Strange. “Kuna.” You call softly. He melts a little inside at the name. Only you’re allowed to say it. To refer to him with such endearment in your voice. He’s most definitely in love. He looks at you.

“Kuna, something is wrong.”

Oh how he longs to touch you, to feel you in his grasp.

“Very wrong.” Your brows scrunched up.

He wants to hold you, to caress you as he crushes you. He wants you to die by his hands, and his hands only.

“The bond..” he breathes, he wants to fuck you, he wants to kiss you and love you and make you his.

Mine. All fucking mine.

You stare at him still, he rolls his eyes once again.

“The bond.” He emphasizes, only to realize you have not one clue what he’s referring to. Have you really forgotten?

“A vow, my dear, a vow I promised centuries ago. To not lay a single finger on you…” You nod like you understand. You do not understand. He sighs. Did she really forget? “Unless…”

“Unless?” He smirks.

Like he’s got you trapped.

“Come closer.” He orders. You almost laugh. “Hwhat?” He scowls at you. “Come closer.”

Oh this is rich. This is fucking hilarious. “Closer, to you. No.” He wants to kill you so bad. “This is not a joke little on-“

“Don’t call me that.”

“This is of serious importance and I demand-“

“Why?”

He heaves a big and dramatic sigh. Why must she be so stubborn? Do you not love her because of it?

“I shall tell you the condition, but I need you to come closer.” You hesitate.

Sukuna is not to be trusted. He’s far from keeping promises and for all you know he could be lying. He could be keeping you alive because of his sick little game. To torment you. But it doesn’t explain why you do the same.

You step closer, just an inch.

“Closer.” Again you take another step, your heart pounding out of your chest.

“And closer more.” Your body trust him, why does your body trust him? You’re confused, for sure.

“And closer.” You take another step. You should be careful. So very careful.

“Just once more.” He urges. And you do, till your lips are just centimeters from each other, and you can feel the warmth of your bodies. Mixing, mingling.

“Say something sweet to me, and I shall tell you.” He wants to hear your voice utter even a tiny compliment before you both die. You frown. “Is this the condition?” He shakes his head no. Just once, he wants to hear your voice just once.

“Your beautiful Sukuna.”

He steps closer to you, hands hovering just near your waist. “Kiss me.”

“That was quick.”

“Do you trust me?”

“No.” A scowl. He didn’t know why but he needed you to kiss him. It was a burning desire, deep in his black heart. “Dearest-“

“Don’t.” You knew. You knew something, but you couldn’t quite figure out what. You gazed at his lips, so perfect. “My Kuna…” you mutter, not intending for him to hear you.

“You said you would tell me.” Your gaze is sharp. He inhales. “You need to kiss me…” he murmurs, just a fraction away from where he wanted to be most.

“Are you-“

“Of course.” His voice held some desperation. He couldn’t be without you. Your eyes trail down to his lips, thinking. “And you shall kill me after this?” You ask. What the fuck?

“Yes.” For some reason, you were not afraid. You step closer, connecting your lips together. Nothing happens at first. And then a searing pain stabs you in the heart.

Finally. He thinks, reaching and cupping your head in his hands. He doesn’t break away from the kiss, shutting his eyes tightly. He breathes you in, all of you, and the pain overtakes him to.

Your hearts wind together, merging into each other in painful desperation.

The air in your lungs becomes his, and his knees weaken. Perfect.

Both your bodies heat up, burning burning burning. Until there’s nothing.

You feel the faintest touch in your cheek, soft and gentle. “Kuna?” You call out.

“Yes love.” He answers. His voice is so warm. So soothing. “Where are you?” You reach your hand out blindly, searching for him. Your hands connect.

“Are you there? Do you feel me?” He asked, wrapping his arms around you. “Yes.” He huma, and you feel it through your whole body. It spreads like a wildfire.

“Where are you?” You ask again. You don’t know why, you can feel him, just a little ways from you.

“‘M right here, just right here.” Fingers intertwine with yours. You hum delight.

The darkness begins to fill with light, trees and birds and noise. “My Kuna…”

“My dearest…”

[tanoraqui]

continuation of this, though not necessarily immediate, and in fact precursor to this. If I write enough parts of the events of this night, eventually it'll coalesce into a coherent fic, right?

Fëanor slammed down the now-empty goblet of his latest rightfully earned apology drink, then narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his latest apologizee, across the table. His vision was wavering around the edges, after most of a bottle of this rich Maiaran vintage all on his own (the table overall was halfway through the third). But the day he was too drunk to glare suspiciously at his half-brother was the day he'd return to Mandos for a neighborly cup of tea.

"Why art thou being so nice to me?" Fëanor demanded. His diction was still crisp, though he could admit that his vocabulary was wavering across millennia.

Fingolfin, not a few cups in himself, rested his chin in his palms and stared back at him with cow-eyed contemplation.

"Am I being nice to you?" he asked philosophically.

"Never mind," Fëanor grumbled. "Now I want to punch you in the face again. Normalcy hast resumed."

"I guess I have been," Fingolfin continued musing as though Fëanor hadn’t spoken. He seemed to be looking straight through Fëanor's head, with those big grey eyes so frustratingly like their father's. "I suppose it's just difficult to be as harsh as I used to be, when I feel like I understand you so well, brother."

Fëanor recoiled upright.

"You know nothing of me." he hissed. (Though he did feel a bit like a petulant half-century to speak so.)

"Don't I?"

Fingolfin looked at him now, with terrible sympathy.

"Did you not hold yourself responsible for the deaths of thousands, including countless loved ones—countless save that you could never not keep count—indeed, do you not still, as you've admitted this night? Did you not race forward alone to challenge the Enemy, confident if not in your victory, then at least in that nobody else had as much of a chance, and if you could end even just your own suffering, it would be worth it? Did you not die in an apogee of burning wrath and utter, utterly helpless despair?"

Carried forward the strength of Fingolfin’s speech, by the currents of wine and truth both flowing so richly this night, and by his own damn vow to do better this time, Fëanor muttered, "I deny none of it."

Fingolfin opened one hand, palm up, to say, Well? Look at me. He raised his chin, for once not contrarily proud, just casting into the lamplight the scars of a crushed neck, which lingered even in this re-incarnated form.

Fëanor reached forward and shoved the third wine bottle toward him, as well-earned tribute and because remembering one's death wasn't pleasant for anyone. Especially when one did so just to disarm querulous kin.

Arafinwë and the girls, thank Eru, were off on the sofa pretending to be absorbed by a new picture of whatever iteration of great-grandchild Arafinwë's eldest's descendants had spawned now. Habit (and the need for a change of topic) made Fëanor think sourly of how he'd lost that contest, too—though, to be perfectly honest, he'd lost that one when the Trees still shone, when exactly one of his seven children showed any interest in having their own.

Still, sour it was. He swiped the remedy of the evening back from Fingolfin and pour himself another goblet, burning and sweet.

[petrich0-r]

warning!!! long rant incoming

weeks later and i am still not over how much reading chapter 426 traumatized me. seeing touya reduced to a what??? burnt-up corpse strapped to a wall and on life support, barely breathing and with no hope of recovery, with only a bleak "slow march toward death" ahead of him was only the first blow.

then we see the todofam marching into the hospital determined to "talk with him" while he can barely string together a few sentences and is strapped to a heart monitor in a way that invasively reveals his true feelings of upset/excitement/anixety at whatever they feel like talking to him about, which was personally mortifying to witness.

one of the FIRST things he says is how he isn't "some damn tourist attraction" for them to come gawk at and talk at to make themselves feel better. and yes even though most of my ire is directed at enji i still dislike how the rest of the family acted in this chapter. all determined to say their piece now that he's forced to stay there and listen to them, and even shouto's part in all of it being framed as him "saving" touya and making time for them all to have together while he is DYING an AGONIZING and SLOW death. also natsuo not even saying anything to touya even though he was the only one to ever advocate for him and constantly remind everyone in the family of what happened to his brother and demanding justice from enji. although if i interpret this as him recognizing that talking with touya now would only violate his privacy since he can't hide his feelings because of the heart monitor his behaviour is the only one that makes sense.

enji once again taking the opportunity to talk about what HE is doing to atone for "his sins", in a way that fills me with such indescribable rage and fury at this man's audacity to even show his face to any member of his family and makes me once again want to kill him with my bare hands because i am SICK and TIRED of hearing about his "atonement" and "rejection". and even though natsuo renounces him definitively once and for all once they exit the hospital, he also says he thinks enji is a "badass" now???? EXCUSE. ME. also shouto calling him "father" still makes me want to puke i'm sorry.

to rub salt into the wound the chapter then switches to hawks talking with nagant who is now fully recovered?? from literally exploding??? in a parody of what i hoped a final dabihawks interaction was going to be. but i guess only heroes and "good" victims get to live and have miraculous recoveries in this story.

another thing that makes me livid is this trend horikoshi has set of showcasing touya in pivotal panels as not-being-burnt-to-a-crisp so he can?? what??? show us his imagined facial expressions better??? idk it just feels so disingenuous to him being crippled, burnt to death, stripped of all bodily autonomy, irreversibly and gruesomly injured only for horikoshi to take the easy way out when he wants to show emotions on his face so we can what?? see him as a person still and not a disfigured corpse???? i don't get it.

as someone who up until those chapters at the end where horikoshi decided that yes izuku should absolutely vanquish tomura was very hopeful about bnha's ending and where it was headed and what kind of story it wanted to tell i feel immeasurably and utterly betrayed and furious at what happened to the remaining lov characters. touya's end is a nightmare scenario on a personal level but what tomura's character went through at the end felt like a complete butchering of everything he as a character stood for. and don't get me started on himiko, a fucking TEENAGE GIRL who i was SURE would get to live if nobody else from the league did. but those are rants for another post.

my final thoughts for this rant are musings on whether horikoshi is aware how hurtful and trauma-inducing chapter 426 is. i struggle to grasp how he could write such a nuanced character without apparently knowing the first thing about how to resolve their story in a satisfying way. whether or not he waffled on how he should end bnha and then chickened out on its "true/controversial/revolutionary" ending i can only speculate but at this point i don't even care because the fact is he CHOSE to end the story this way and i have no idea what the point of it all even was anymore and i am tired and rant over because i've been rambling like a lunatic for way too long now

anyway sorry if this doesn't make a lick of sense idk what i'm saying or trying to articulate here, this is my first post of this length and i was gonna keep it all inside but i felt i had to let it out somehow. if u got this far thank you for reading this and have a good day <33

[marichive]

𝐓 𝐎 𝐗 𝐈 𝐂 𝐈 𝐓 𝐀

A compilation of things a muse of mine has said. Ranges from 100% seriousness to absolute chaos (but mostly chaos). Change pronouns / etc. when sending as needed.

tw for drinking/alcohol mentions, suggestive content, violence mentions, lots of swearing / insults, other non-PG shenanigans.

❝ Get the heart eyes away from me. ❞

❝ I can't help it, I'm just too hot. ❞

❝ Was I supposed to NOT be mean? ❞

❝ I am what the boomers like to call a "delinquent". ❞

❝ Just think before you say anything, "would I say this to [name] for fun", and if the answer is yes, do not say that shit to her. ❞

❝ Aw, did that hurt your little feelings? ❞

❝ Oh dear god, what torture are you going to put me through now? ❞

❝ Words cannot express how much I hate the words that I just read with my own two eyes. ❞

❝ Call me [nickname] again and I'll break your face. ❞

❝ If you turn that into a sex joke I swear to god — ❞

❝ Cursed. Horrible. Disappointing. ❞

❝ Adorable that you think you're worth the effort. ❞

❝ The only kink here is gonna be the one in your fucking spine. ❞

❝ One, I'm not your babe. Two, I will fucking strangle you. ❞

❝ Do you have a death wish or something? ❞

❝ Feel like doing something ridiculous? ❞

❝ I feel like this is what happens before someone walks into an intervention. ❞

❝ My entire support system is having a crisis right now. ❞

❝ I'm just not ready to deal with it right now. ❞

❝ I'm not gonna try to fix things and get myself in another fight as a consequence. ❞

❝ I fucked up and kinda shut down before I could. ❞

❝ I don't know how to make this right. ❞

❝ Maybe he's better off without me. ❞

❝ You went right back to blaming me for everything the first chance you got. ❞

❝ I imagine it's hard for you to feel sorry for anyone at all. ❞

❝ I can't catch a fucking break. ❞

❝ I actually liked the idea that we could maybe be friends and move past everything, but you're always going to think the worst of me. ❞

❝ I guess I did ruin everything, didn't I? ❞

❝ I needed to win to prove to myself that I could do it. ❞

❝ No no, this one is actually a good idea! ❞

❝ See, this is why you're perfect for each other. ❞

❝ Maybe he'll be more receptive to it if you're there. Or at least less hostile about it. ❞

❝ I think you're probably the only person who could get through to him on this. ❞

❝ I've had to do a lot of things I didn't want to do to try to get by. I get what that's like. ❞

❝ You're not a snack, you're a whole damn meal. Don't be humble. ❞

❝ Soooo I might have done something. ❞

❝ He's too much of a petty bitch for that. ❞

❝ I'm going to terrorize him. ❞

❝ Guess I better get the bullying out of my system before then. ❞

❝ Wow, that's like, third base. ❞

❝ Hold my [object] while I kick ass for you. ❞

❝ You're the cutest duck, though. ❞

❝ That's the option with the least violence. ❞

❝ You're probably the only person I trust that much. ❞

❝ Okay that was cute, you can have a kiss for that one. ❞

❝ Um, that's me. I'm the Precious here. ❞

❝ I'm a scam of a person. ❞

❝ Don't worry, I'm sure all her murder energy is focused on [name]. ❞

❝ Want me to make mean faces at them? ❞

❝ There is something and I need you for impulse control. Or you can enable me, that's cool too. ❞

❝ Yeah but like, we're little shits by choice. He's a little shit out of hatred or spite or whatever the fuck fuels him to act like this. ��

❝ I'm pretty sure my brain stopped working several times. ❞

❝ It's scandalous! I mean we're just SO wholesome and innocent. ❞

❝ People might start to think we're in love or something. ❞

❝ Getting kicked out of [location] sounds fun. ❞

❝ They are looking at me with their EYES. ❞

❝ . . . I've never seen that. ❞

❝ The trauma is half the fun. I'm just melodramatic. ❞

❝ Don't tell me how to breathe, mouth breather. ❞

❝ Why were you listening you fucking creature !? ❞

❝ Dude go to fucking therapy, I'm not even kidding. ❞

❝ I need to bleach my brain. ❞

❝ It was for safety purposes you nasty bastard! ❞

❝ Dishonor on you, gambling satan! ❞

❝ I don't know how you're still alive. ❞

❝ You call me the antichrist and accuse me of being pregnant at least three times per month. He gives me hugs and pizza. ❞

❝ No you're right, I set my expectations too high. ❞

❝ Why did you bet on THIS of all things oh my fucking god??? ❞

❝ Everyone's always like "[name] you have daddy issues" but I have no dad to have issues with so??? ❞

❝ I will beat you to death with your own limbs. ❞

❝ You Gary Busey lookin' bitch. ❞

❝ We have to watch you guys make bedroom eyes at each other all the time, we just want it to stop. ❞

❝ You use my horny behavior against me, it's only fair I get to use yours against you. ❞

❝ I have no sense of self preservation. It's why I get into so many fights. ❞

❝ Glad to know you approve of horrendously spiteful revenge tactics. ❞

❝ I may talk shit but I do worry about you. ❞

❝ Oh, I'm completely vile. I'm well aware. ❞

❝ At least I don't look like I got hit by a school bus because the driver thought you were a threat to the children on board. ❞

❝ Why are you the way that you are? I hate so much about the things you choose to be. ❞

❝ Well maybe you should, I don't know, talk to him about his trauma before you give him sex advice? Seems a bit out of order. ❞

❝ [name], don't touch my baby boy! ❞

❝ Did he drop kick my son !? ❞

❝ You told me you dropped [name/object] down the stairs, I do not trust you. ❞

❝ Say sike right now !! ❞

❝ Is this actually happening?? Am I having an aneurysm???? ❞

❝ I feel like this was a big accomplishment, we came out of this with no attempted murder. So it's a win. ❞

❝ Maybe we DO have the power of god and anime on our side. ❞

❝ I don't know if I trust you two drinking around each other. ❞

❝ I said behave oh my fucking god. ❞

❝ Do it for Voltron! ❞

❝ You like [food/brand/name], you clearly have no taste. ❞

❝ No breaking of the sacred pinky oath! ❞

❝ That was so stupid, but thanks for the attempted save. ❞

❝ I'm gonna hit you in the dick with a car while listening to the Power Rangers theme song, and I'm gonna have so much fun doing it, dickhead. ❞

❝ The rules are reasonable. The problem is that I am unreasonable and I know I will break them. ❞

[darkurgetrash]

Writer Interview Tag ✍️

Thank you for the tag my kitten @savriea! I love this format ❤️ no pressure tags to @lemonsrosesandlavender @forget-me-maybe @freesidexjunkie @blackstaff-blast @crystal-overdrive @notlikeparis xo

When did you start writing?

I was writing awful emo-type fiction (featuring yandere tropes that I didn’t know were a thing) then got into fanfic around ?13/14? with Death Note. I think so anyway, it’s nearly impossible for me to remember what age I did what 🤷‍♀️

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I enjoy literary horror and absurdist fiction, which I used to write more of but haven’t really felt motivated to since venturing back into romance writing. I have a few short stories though from back in the day in these genres that I was thinking about publishing somewhere, but I wouldn’t know where to begin!

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

I’ve always been inspired by Diana Wynn Jones and have been compared to her from before, but I’m not sure I agree with that because I am nowhere near her level — that would be the dream, though! When I used to write more creatively, I very much tried to emulate Sayaka Murata, my queen. 🙇‍♀️

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I don’t have a designated space, but I do find it easier to write when I’m commuting (because there’s no wifi/signal and I have nothing better to do). So… the London Underground? 😁

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Being so bored that “I might as well write”, hahahaha! I have tonnes of hobbies though so, unfortunately, I don’t get in the writing mood very often. 🤣

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

I tend to always end up writing about depression and trauma, even when I didn’t intend to hehe. 🤭 Write what you know, right? Tbh, I’m unfortunately quite a pessimistic person who is more naturally inclined towards melancholy, so I think these things tend to slip into my characters. That said, I always want to make things feel hopeful and whimsical too — probably as a form of escapism — so I suppose that surprises me!

What is your reason for writing?

A loaded question… 👀 I wrote a long answer just now but deleted it because I couldn’t quite properly express what I meant lol, so the tldr is: escapism, self expression, and fulfillment🫡

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

I love all comments ❤️❤️ but also, if you’re writing mini essays under my fics, you have a special place in my heart.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

Hmm, depends on what I’m writing. For the most part, I’d like readers to think I’m funny and enjoy my humour, and, of course, enjoy the story I create!

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

I personally enjoy my sense of humour in writing. My one-shot ‘Gods Damned Gale Dekarios!’ and some parts of HITMC have been some of my favourite writing I’ve ever done, and my short stories I used to write used tonnes of irony and absurdist humour. I think I’m also good at writing about characters’ inner thoughts and feelings — when it comes to anything external, however, I struggle. 💀

How do you feel about your own writing?

I think I’m pretty average tbh — enjoyable enough to read but nothing super special. I have a lot of cognitive issues that make writing really hard for me, especially when it comes to, like I said, writing about anything that’s happening externally: action, the senses, settings, etc. I think I especially have problems when it comes to the all important “show not tell” rule, because girlypop has no visualisation skills. 🤣 But overall, I think as long as people are enjoying my writing, I don’t see it as a reason to be hard on myself. I’ve kinda given up on any ambitions to write anything more than what I do now because my disabilities are too extreme and also getting worse with age, but hey-ho, it is what it is.

[yuri-is-online]

Call me tragedy anon w the way i slurp that shit up real. Okay but in all /srs i'm a firm believer that most love stories or stories in /gen in TWST are mainly happy love stories tragedy? Never heard of them!!!

But i think most would be more fascinated to figure out thats its popular in Yuu's world. Like why??? Don't people not like being happy more than sad? and its true!! But there's always something cathartic about well-written tragedies (imo at least) and people enjoy that feeling. Personally the media i enjoy and stick to me the most are usually the ones that have open ended or ambiguos endings that leave a bittersweet after taste in your mouth. Something about retrospecting and finding peace that yes even though it never ended well, there was happiness, or maybe if not happiness then maybe peace to be found in a story like that. The love was still there!!!! Do you understand!!!???

Orpheus can never be with Eurydice ever again, but the two loved each other!! Icarus will always die but the sun kissed his face!!! Do you understand!!!!!!!!!!

I want to thank you for sending me this on valentine's day. It is so fitting I should have answered immediately.

Welcome to the stage tragedy annon! W takes in this ask right here your brain is massive.

Orpheus can never be with Eurydice ever again, but the two loved each other!! Icarus will always die but the sun kissed his face!!! Do you understand!!!!!!!!!!

I UNDERSTAND I AM THINKING I AM FEELING I AM CRYING BUT I FEEL SO FULFILLED!!!!!!!!!!

I really like happy endings and have a hard time playing the bad end in otomes but one of my favorites, Birushana has these tragic endings that I have done some of and GOD. The image of Shungen screaming at Tomomori as he cradles Shanao's dead body, saying he can't just take her away as Tomomori prepares to jump into the ocean and drown with her only for him to say "You misunderstand, she is taking me." .·°՞(≧□≦)՞°·. i am crying, screaming, throwing up etc. and so on because fucking damn that's what it's about. The love is so real it has to endure even when everything else is gone.

I think that Idia might find some morbid comfort in that concept which is why I mentioned the Orpheus and Eurydice connection in his long fic musing. I don't think he would find it romantic necessarily, but certainly comforting. Like at least by Yuu's weird standards his curse isn't the major set back he thought it would be and even if things end badly they will still see it as worth it? That's weird, odd, and something he outwardly wants to make fun of but not something he really can when that's what he has come to believe too after his overblot.

Jade and Azul both work really well for this too. Azul because he believes love is inherently exploitable, so the idea that stories end badly in your world just further cements his own bias. The idea that you would consider the bad ending to make things no less real or valuable though, THAT he would need some time with. What do you mean Orpheus fails to save Eurydice is the point of the story? He has a hard time coping with the idea of losing already, adding that into romance as a selling point doesn't make sense from a consultant's point of view. You want to win in the end no? Not just be left ugly crying alone. Jade on the other hand... I just like to see him eat shit on something like this tbh. "Oh I would never do something like that, what an idiot for looking back-" Jade would actually show up at the gates of the underworld and he would still look back because he needs you to be there exactly like the myth foretold and he would be cursing fate the entire time.

I feel like I leave Floyd out of these sort of things so I want to add him here because I feel like he would dismiss the idea of tragedy as a good thing but not because he like. Doesn't think it doesn't exist or something he just doesn't care. He already knows the time you spend together will be enjoyable, and if it ends with death or with him going too close to the sun, well that was the point wasn't it? Kind of like he gets the point but not because of the example given. It's also why I could see him actually successfully making it through to a happy ending. He has this line in Chapter 7 when Lilia is scolding the Octatrio that made me scream because of how good of a job the VA did with it:

And if he says his place is a happy ending I believe he'd make it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[wuahae]

CONGRATS AGAIN MY LOVELY SHING STAR BFF TWINSTER 4LYFER CAT!!!! im forever proud of u my lovely <333

hopefully i can send a little request of jacob (sorry i am in my crazy cobster feelings) + 8:24 pm + a library!!

(suggestive; minors dni!)

[20:24] / library

-

“jacob.”

there’s the distinct noise of your clothes rustling, wooden chair creaking as jacob leans over more, breathing in your scent as he nuzzles into the nape of your neck. “hmm?”

“jacob, not here.” a beat of silence, and then nothing. he shifts lower—higher, if you account for his hand on your thigh. you try again, voice wavering. “jacob.”

“yes, my love?”

“don’t ‘my love’ me!” you hiss, smacking him lightly. “we could get caught!”

he hums again, leisurely, innocently. “by who?”

it’s times like these you really wonder how you end up in situations like this. the only reason you were in this godforsaken (you can only hope god isn’t watching) library in the first place on a friday night was because you had this cursed essay due at midnight, and by the time you’d arrived at the library in the afternoon, you hadn’t even started. jacob had joined you around six pm with the promise of dinner together, but as the minutes ticked by and the essay wasn’t exactly writing itself, that promise seemed more futile by the second.

(“let’s go,” he’d said, tucking his chin on your shoulder as he looked over at your laptop. “you can take a little break to go eat.”

“i can’t,” you bemoaned, fingers clacking away at your keyboard, 15 separate tabs opened on your browser along with multiple other windows. “this is life or death.”

well, it might as well have been. this damn thing was worth 15% of your grade.

jacob then drawled out your name slowly, sweetly, and instinctively, you tensed. the cursor blinked on your screen, halfway through typing a word. a chill ran up your spine—you’ve known him long enough to sense danger before it came.)

and that was how the situation escalated to this, secluded in the stacks of the library, completely at your boyfriend’s mercy.

“we’re going to get banned from the library,” you manage to make out through breathless puffs of air and restrained whines as jacob inches his fingers higher up your inner thigh, tracing little shapes onto the sensitive skin. he sucks on the thin skin of your throat once, like a point of emphasis, before letting go to murmur.

“don’t worry,” he assures. “no one’s coming by here at this hour. and besides—” jacob makes his first bold move, his thumb moving up and brushing slightly over your underwear. “even if we did get caught, we wouldn’t get banned. the librarian loves me.”

he gives a little more pressure, a soft tug at the nape of your neck, and a soft moan passes by your lips before you slap your hand over your mouth, squeaking out whatever was left. “jacob!”

“so you do want to get caught,” jacob muses, warm breath twisting your stomach into knots. “i’m okay with that too, but you should have just said so from the beginning. we could have chosen a much more conspicuous—” he strokes you again, harder, and your legs spread involuntarily “—spot.”

“th…that’s not what i—” you try to say, but it all comes out jumbled from your cotton-heavy tongue, brain foggy as the ugly yellow library lights clash with the blue light emitting from the computer screen, half-written document staring right back at you. “you know i have to get this done.”

“you can spare a few moments to go eat, love.” it must be a talent of his, the ability to sound so sweet and kind even as he watches you dissolve away in his palm like wet tissue paper. no wonder no one ever believes you when you tell them of your jacob-inflicted woes. “you haven’t had anything since breakfast.”

“i had a—ah—a protein bar.”

jacob tilts your chin towards him with his other hand, a disapproving look. “now we both know that isn’t a meal.”

you choke back a frustrated cry, squeezing your eyes shut. “jacob—”

“why are you calling me that?”

“what?”

“my name,” jacob says, thumbing the edge of your underwear aside. your gut twists again, breath catching as he ghosts a finger over you, fully bared for him. satisfaction seeps and settles into him, even as he tries to keep up the innocent charade, the way he smiles knowing he has you right where he wants you. he knows exactly what to expect when he starts these kinds of things with you, having done so too many times before; this time is no different. “call me cobie, like you always do.”

this is it. this truly is the end for you. everything feels so loud—your restrained moans, the rumble of the air conditioning, the slip of his finger against you that only gets more obscene as he mouths at you. cobie is for when he’s normal, when he’s kind and gentle and the textbook definition of the perfect boyfriend, not when he’s like this, when he’s trying to unmake you until he’s left with only your want. it’s why you try your luck again, consequences be damned. (maybe out of spite, maybe to gain back some sense of control in the midst of his molding.) “jacob, i really don’t think that’s what we should be—”

“cobie,” he corrects, insistent. “say it with me. co—“ he draws out the syllables, sweet and melodic, hand slipping completely underneath your panties and pinching your clit “—bie.”

the surprised yelp that escapes you is unrestrained, unfiltered, the embarrassment rushing through your veins somehow just making the burning in your core grow hotter. “come on, say it,” jacob probes, and you’re fumbling to hold onto anything that can ground you: the chair edge, the table, the toned arm between your legs, flexing as he slowly drags you to a high.

“can you feel that?” he asks softly, palm pressed firm against you, slick and wet and desperate. he drags his fingers (the second is a new addition; he doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches) and lets them catch at your opening. your head spins, his fingers teasing around and never in. “looks like your body is honest even when you don’t want to be.” 

jacob lingers, pauses his ministrations for a moment too long, and you let out a questioning whine in response. it’s pleading, it’s instinctive, it’s downright humiliating, but it pales in comparison to the way you feel yourself clench around nothing, the way your hips twitch and jerk, rutting against anything he’s willing to give you.

“p—please—”

jacob grinds his hand down, sucking at a spot beneath your jaw that has you clenching again, words incomprehensible and slurred and almost piteous with how much you beg. he runs a hand along your jaw and guides your face to him once again, his eyes patient and giving, the meaning you know of far too well. he’ll give you what you need, if you give him what he wants. and he stills. “‘please,’ what?”

fuck it all. fuck propriety and what’s left of your dignity and fuck that goddamn assignment. you've had your grave dug—you have for a long time. all you needed to do now is lie in it. blood pounds in your ears, white noise buzzing through your body; the defeat forms heavy on your tongue, your mind hazy and scrabbling for something. anything. (desire is a potent thing, and jacob has always known just where to press to make you crumble.) “please…cobie.”

jacob’s hand traces your cheek gently, lovingly, as if you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on (you are. you always have been), and smiles. “that’s my girl. that wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

he pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist as his fingers beneath you draw nearer once more, ready to plunge in and claim what’s his for the taking—

a notification pops up in the corner of your laptop, the little jingle signifying a new email sounding through the empty library. lolling your head against his shoulder, you move to catch a glimpse of what could possibly be sent to you at eight in the evening, only to see an announcement that makes you forget everything that was happening prior: good evening class. due to unforeseen circumstances, the essay final draft due date will be changed to monday midnight. hope you’re all doing well. happy weekend!

you both blink at the screen, frozen. jacob pulls his hand away from you, scooching his chair back to its regular place, but you’re still reading the email over and over again to make sure you aren’t hallucinating in a fit of hysteria.

“i’m not imagining it, right?” you ask jacob dumbly, pointing at the screen. “he really posted an extension?”

“yup!” jacob grins back. “isn’t this great? now we can finally go home.”

you shut your laptop, a sigh of relief heaving from your chest as you move to slip it back into your backpack. “thank god, cause even without what you were trying to pull, i really was not going to make it in time for—what are you doing?”

hand on the edge of your chair, jacob’s pushed you out slightly from underneath the table, kneeling to slip into the gap before pulling you back in. he places one hand on each of your knees, a distinct glint in his eyes. “well, we have to finish what we started, don’t we?”

fear. dread. a strange, twisted sense of arousal. “i thought you wanted to go get dinner?”

“i do,” jacob smiles, mischievous and teasing as he spreads your legs. pliant. “dinner’s right here.”

[acourtofmenandthirst]

A New Male (Part II of II)

Rhysand's Sister!Reader x Eris

Holy fuck I am so sorry this took me so long! I should have made it three parts instead but I just wanted to finish it for you guys! I hope yall wanted soft Eris, because this is so mushy but I also love it

Again, timeline and character development not really canon, so just go with the flow! Here is Part I

Warnings: Mentions of character death, swearing, smut, Eris cares too much about fashion theory

Word Count: 13.5K

You unsurprisingly found yourself ending up in the Autumn Court again, dew clinging to the hem of your skirts and fog winding around your wrists. You’d followed the sunset from the gloomy Court of Nightmares, chasing the golden skies and beams of light kissing the clouds, a sight so often shielded with storm clouds in your home territory.

Wings tucked in tight behind you, you stepped over logs and maneuvered around muddy leaves, looking around, searching for a certain fireborne male. With your hair pinned nearly behind your head, only a few tendrils now slinging around your pointed ears, you craned your neck from side to side, eager to cover as much ground as you could, desperate to find your new friend. 

Those amber eyes found you first, though, from his spot perched on a thick tree branch spread high above you. He’d winnowed as soon as he noticed you in the court, wandering through the dense forest. He was quick to scent you, the faint oenothera and cool brisk night, even from his position just outside the Forest House. As his ears picked up on the sentries discussing the sudden intrusion, he quickly ordered them to stand down, ensuring he would investigate the trespasser. 

Don’t tell Beron.

Eris could not stress it enough. 

He’d winnowed his way through the woods, finding new hiding places until he decided he was finally close enough to you, perched up atop the highest tree branch, watching as you searched for him. It made his heart flutter, unable to stop the small smile that pulled at his lips. 

It didn’t hurt that you had donned your dress with the tightest bodice, corset pulled so tight that your chest was pressed against the fabric, pressing up toward your collarbones with every breath you took. 

And maybe you had done it on purpose. 

He winnowed down a few feet in front of you, tall, lean body hidden by the fog. He was quick to step out, though, perfectly in your path, stopping you dead in your tracks. Your breath hitched in your throat, head stuck on a swivel, as you straightened your back, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze.  

“Welcome back,” he mused, arms crossed over his chest, smirking hanging on his lips. 

Couldn’t stay away, you wished to say. “Happy to see my welcoming committee, once again,” you replied nonchalantly, dropping your shoulders in a shrug. 

Eris smiled, stepping closer to you. “I was beginning to wonder when I’d see you back in my Court.”

You returned the smile, praying to the Mother to hide the blush on your cheeks - or at least have him chalk it up to the cold evening air. It’s not like you’d counted how many days had passed since you’d last been to Autumn. 

But you were waiting for the exact moment when you could slip away and race back to the red haired male. 

Rhysand and your father had been called to the Illyrian camps unexpectedly. You’d been left with his larger friend in charge, the big brute that couldn’t go two hours without eating. You were able to coerce him into a dinner with your finest maids, the most beautiful ones you could find - them, and about twelve bottles of your father’s Faewine. 

You slipped out of your room not a moment too soon, and were able to catch the sunset on your flight to the Autumn Court. 

“Miss me that much?” Your voice was as smooth as that gods damned Night Court silk he despised so much. While he decided you didn’t look bad in it, actually quite pleased with how you looked barely wrapped in the dark material, he would much prefer to see you in something corduroy. 

Eris couldn’t suppress the chuckle that left his chest, a low rumble, yet such a boyish laugh. “Who else would I be able to share my family woes with?” He quirked an eyebrow in your direction. 

You nodded, suddenly remembering the weight your own family had been putting on your shoulders lately - and how much of a risk it truly was to see Eris. You bit your lip, looking around at the forest floor. Colorful leaves scattered the damp earth, clumps of mud and dirt caked at the bottom of the dying shrubbery. “No fire or knife throwing?” You asked, desperate to talk about anything other than your family - or his. 

Understanding of your conversational change, Eris strode to one of the fallen tree trunks, sitting on the dark bark. His legs spread slightly, dark pants stretched out, matching the dark blue suit jacket he wore. “Not tonight,” he replied, looking up at the sky. “Just out admiring the sunset.” A little white lie never hurt anyone, right?

You nodded, strolling over to take a seat beside him. You held your wings up high, tightly pressed to your back, keeping them out of the mud and out of Eris’s way. “That’s what I was going to say,” you replied, with a small smile pulling at your lips. A white lie shared between friends, then. 

Without another word, Eris leaned backward, drinking you all in: the way your dress hugged your curves, accentuated your chest, nearly glowing under the setting sun. Your hair curled perfectly over your ears, exposing your long neck and shoulders. Your dark wings flexed behind you, held high by your immaculate posture, fit for a queen on her throne.

It was a sight Eris wouldn’t be forgetting any time soon.

Much to your dismay, as soon as you opened your mouth to make a snarky comment about the young heir apparent, your stomach growled, interrupting the near expired silence. You felt your cheeks burn, hand clenched to your stomach as you tried to laugh it off.

Eris laughed, too, a genuine one, showing how caught off guard he really was. “You okay there, little bat?”

You were simply on fire at that point. 

You huffed a laugh, forcing yourself to ignore his commentary - unable to decide if you liked the sound of it or not. “I skipped dinner,” you replied. Skipped dinner to escape Cassian in the Court of Nightmares, to find you. “And then the flight over here…” You had to travel across nearly all of Prythian to get there - not a small feat, especially not in the dress you wore, and not on an empty stomach. 

Eris rolled his eyes. “Nothing here worth skipping meals for.”

“You’ve eaten the Nightmare gruel before, no?”

Eris barked out a laugh, smiling broadly, eyes squinting at the corners. “As much as I’d love to remember the grey cuisine last time I was visiting,” he began, dropping a hand to your knee, over your thick skirts. “I’d much rather not.” With a glint in his bright shining eyes, his wide palm squeezed your leg. “Stay here.”

Before you could even question it, the male was gone, vanishing into nothing but thin air. You cursed yourself, cursed your father for not passing down the strong powers he gave to Rhysand to you as well. You could barely summon darkness as your brother did, much less winnow. You didn’t have the abilities to hide your wings like Rhys - whether he actively hid them or had to summon them through magic - you weren’t sure anybody really knew. 

If not for the fading orange sun, you wouldn’t be afraid. The sun set quickly here in Autumn, and you weren't sure how long you would be sitting there without Eris. 

Eris, on the other hand, scavenged through the Forest House kitchen. He would run himself ragged to find you something - opening cabinets and oven doors, searching for the perfect treat for you. He knew he couldn’t be gone long - he wasn’t sure how long you’d actually wind up waiting for him. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the apple crumble cooling on the windowsill. It was perfect. 

He lunged towards the window, stopping only to fix his jacket and run a hand through his messy hair, before he grabbed the dish and a spoon and winnowed back to you. 

Eris sat back on the large tree trunk, holding the warm dish between the two of you. 

Your eyes grew wide as you observed the dessert, chunks of apple drizzled with caramel and brown seasoning. The crumble on top was still steaming slowly, chunks of dough and oats and something that smelled so sweet. He held it out to you, which you graciously took.

“This isn’t going to be one of those old wivestales is it? The one they tell the children to scare them out of running away?” Your head tilted to the side, holding the delicate white baking dish in both hands. The sweet smell of sugar entrapped you. “Where if they eat the food from the mysterious land, they’ll be stuck there forever?”

Eris’s eyes washed over the smirk that played at your lips. His voice dropped an octave: “Would that be so bad?”

You shook your head quickly, wings shaking slightly behind you. Eris held the spoon out to you, watching you take it and scoop a hearty spoonful of the apple crumble, quickly taking it into your mouth. 

You could have moaned - never having tasted such a sweet treat. Solstice dessert came close, but no Night Court dish would have such depth, the tart apple with the big chunks of sugar and allspice flakes. You had heard legends about the infamous Autumn caramel, the viscous golden sugar that could be traded for bags of coins in the other courts. 

As you took a scoop of the chunky topping, you couldn’t help but notice how those red eyes watched you, a predator watching his prey, eating the sweet treat, only sweetening you up for his own tasting later.

Gods, and you wished he would. 

He knew you noticed him staring. He had nowhere else to look, really. No other sight would have his blood pumping like that: watching you lick the sticky sauce off your lips. 

He would forego a hundred years just to see that tongue of yours run across your lips. To watch as your eyes fluttered closed, nearly moaning at the taste. 

Your attention was all on him as you lifted the spoon to your lips. Caught in a trance, though, those fiery red eyes demanding all of your attention, a chunk of topping fell from your spoon, landing directly on your chest. Your eyes flitted downwards, you hadn’t expected nearly such a grand display on your end, the wide expanse of your pushed-up chest now the perfect plate for such a delicious treat.

Eris would agree - you were utterly appetizing. 

His eyes flicked back and forth, between your eyes, your lips, your chest. His fists were clenched at his sides and he forced himself to breathe calmly. Not one to besmirch a female’s reputation, he held himself back - stopped himself from reaching over and having a taste straight from the source.

“You have no idea,” he whispered, unable to raise his grating voice from the low tenner. “The amount of restraint I have around you.”

You huffed out a low breath, smirking at the poor male in front of you. You swiftly placed the dish down on the ground beside you, not taking your eyes off Eris as you simply plucked the chunk of dough up, holding it up in front of you. You tossed him a sultry smile as you held your hand out to him, but as soon as those lips parted, eyes burning with desire, you pulled back and placed the sugary chunk on your own waiting tongue. 

His jaw fell ever so slightly, watching as you reached back out for him, a droplet of caramel - one matching the smudge on your breast - lingering off your finger. You dragged your thumb across his bottom lip, earning a blink and a sigh from the male, as his tongue met your finger ever so gently. You brought your hand back to yourself, licking the remnants of the sauce from your thumb once again, as if tasting Eris instead. 

“What are you holding yourself back for?” You breathed, eyes wandering from his blazing red ones to his pink lips, looking so soft, still parted ever so slightly. “I know it’s not for my benefit.”

Eris willed his mouth shut, forcing a breath down his throat. “(Y/N).” Your name was a prayer, a plea, begging for salvation. “If you allow me to touch you, I am not sure if I will ever be able to stop.” 

Your heart lurched to your throat, stomach twisting in anticipation as you failed to come up with a response - nothing but his name on your lips as his hand reached upwards, tracing up the outside of your bare arm, eventually stopping at the back of your neck. 

Your eyes nearly fluttered at the contact, his warm palm against your cold skin. His fingers stretched the expanse of the back of your neck, from the top of your shoulder to between your shoulder blades. As he leaned forward, your head tilted back, mouth falling open with the softest sigh as his nose brushed against your cheek. He pressed forward, lips tracing the shell of your ear, but not offering you a kiss. You were drawn to him, to his heat, his smell, his touch. 

Eris watched you with hooded eyes, as your head fell back completely, offering him nothing but the open expanse of your chest and neck. You felt his breath tickle the corner of your jaw before he pulled away, dropping before you. His nose nuzzled against the freezing skin of your collarbone, lips pressed against your breast, straining against the top of your corset, begging to be set free. 

You released a shaky breath, one Eris vowed to never forget, as he kissed his way up your chest, across your cleavage, tongue flitting out to taste the rest of the sugar granules that lingered across your creamy skin. You arched upwards, pressing yourself further into him as your hand fell to the back of his head. Your fingers wound through those red locks, needing to cling to something - anything - to ground yourself. 

He followed your lead as you tugged him upwards gently. Eris, ever the minx, though, smirked as he continued his ministrations up your body, offering you small kisses as he worked his way up the column of your throat, nipping at your sensitive skin once he reached the corner of your jaw. You lurched with a soft gasp, hand winding farther around his head, holding him in place. 

“Eris,” you mewled, unable to open your eyes, to pull yourself away from relishing in the feeling of the male buried in the crook of your neck. “Please, Eris.” 

Music to his ears. 

His other hand moved from the death grip he held on your hip, up to cradle the free side of your face. He tilted your head forward, until you eventually opened your eyes to meet his, burning with desire. His cheeks were painted pink, red eyes hungry with desire. “Say please again, (Y/N),” he murmured, pulling himself from the warmth he spread across your torso, looking you straight on. 

You licked your lips, mouth suddenly feeling dry, radiating with anticipation. “Eris - ” you didn’t miss how his chest huffed at the sound of his name, how he suppressed the groan that threatened to claw its way from his throat. “Please.”

His lips captured yours, so gently you weren’t sure if you would have to beg for him to really kiss you. With a sigh of contentment, like he had been waiting just as long as you had - as if delaying it wasn’t his own doing - his lips moved against yours. You leaned into him, deathgrip on his loose curls, pulling him ever so much closer to you. 

Before Eris could drag his tongue across that bottom lip of yours, the one you’d been biting all evening, his ears perked up, catching the faint howl of his dogs far on the outskirts of the forest. He sat straight, hands not dropping your head, focusing on the leering sentries. His eyes fell to yours; while his were riddled with alarm, you looked as though you’d seen a ghost, so petrified of what the High Lord of the Autumn Court would do if he found you in his court… whether he was friends with your father or not, you were trespassing. 

“You have to go,” Eris breathed, still afraid to let you go.

“I can’t keep coming back,” you replied, hand settling on his own, the one that still cupped your cheek. 

He nodded, disagreement the farthest thing from his mind. “Then I’ll come to you.”

You bit your lip, shaking your head. The Court of Nightmares would notice the moment he crossed their borders, an Autumn male entering their territory without an invitation from the High Lord. He wouldn’t be safe in Velaris, either, not in the sleepy mountain town where he’d stick out like a sore thumb. No way he’d make it close enough without your father or brother noticing. 

“You have to go,” he whispered, thumb tracing your cheekbone. “I’ll find you.”

The dogs grew louder, the sound of the males shouting far in the distance encroaching closer and closer. Without so much as another look - another kiss - Eris pulled you up by your hips, hoisting you to your feet and turning you away from him. 

You took a few wobbly steps before stretching out your wings, taking off into the dead of night. 

________________________________

You’d made it back that evening before Cassian even noticed you were missing, still drinking with the young fawns obsessing over his every move. You shouldn’t have been surprised to hear him take a handful of them to bed later. 

The sounds alone echoed against the stone walls of your fathers estate, built into the side of the tall mountain. You laid awake in bed, half tucked under the covers, a plush pillow pressed over your head, trying to drown out the sound of the beastly male and the females crying out in pleasure. The jealous part of you wished that were you and Eris, perhaps hidden away deep in the Autumn woods, the males pointed nose buried in your neck again, or those soft lips between your legs. 

You’d pay an insurmountable amount of coins to hear that breathy moan fall from his lips, the low grumble from his chest as he licked his way across you breast. The thought alone had you pressing your legs together. 

You longed for his hands to roam the expanse of your body, that damned silk dress you’d worn just for his attention. Discarded in a pile of silk on your floor. Leave it to the Autumn sentries to interrupt you - though, you had heard rumors it was the most heavily guarded court, soldiers who would die to protect Autumn’s secrets and surely would kill anyone unexpected on their land. But the bloodhounds scared you more, no matter how many creatures you’d encountered in your own home court. Their well trained noses would track any being in their lands - no matter how small - razor sharp teeth that could tear them to shreds within the blink of an eye. 

You rolled over, kicking the thick blankets off of you, throwing a coat over your shoulders before running through the drawing room and launching yourself off the balcony. 

Your wings caught you, splayed out wide behind you, coasting along the quick breeze. You soared over the Sidra, watching the moonlight coast over the rippling waves, the midnight black water shining white in reflection. The trees whirled past, the sweet smell of pine and thick fog had nothing on what you’d seen in Autumn, the lingering smell of pumpkin and cinnamon still swirling in your nose. 

You banked back toward the mountain, gliding close to the cold rocks before spotting the small cave you so often found yourself at. You landed on your feet, on the stone that offered nothing more than a couple feet of space, before plopping yourself on the edge, legs dangling off the cliff. 

You adjusted the cloak over your shoulders, pulling it over your bare arms, those that Eris had been dragging his own fingers along not long ago, tracing a line of fire up your skin. You pulled the nightgown over your legs, thick socks s covering you near bare feet. The cool night but at you, but it was welcome, much needed to help you clear your head. 

No matter how hard you tried to shake off the thought of Eris, the feeling of his touch, the all too short time he spent with his lips against yours, his memory lingered - as did his touch, his warmth, his smell. 

Your wings prickled, goosebumps washing over your skin as you felt another approaching; Illyrian wings appearing far in the distance. You squinted, watching Rhys follow your own path, soaring high before dropping down on the edge of your little cliff. The one you two had been sneaking off to since you were young. When Rhys would take you flying, he often took you here, a nice resting spot while you were still too young and unable to fly for so long. 

You’d pushed him off the edge numerous times, giggling as he caught himself in the air, his boisterous laugh bouncing off the sides of the mountain, echoing in the valley below. 

“Figured I’d find you here,” he started, taking a seat beside you. His Illyrian leathers were matte under the stark moonlight. Clothes he so rarely wore recently. Not since his time in training, since your mother had been with him at the camp. 

“Your friend is quite loud,” you replied flatly, staring down at the rocks below. 

Rhys grumbled. “I’ll have to talk to him about that.” You hoped he wasn’t peering into Cassian’s mind, catching him at such an intimate moment. 

“You’re back sooner than expected… is father at home?”

Rhys nodded. “We left Azriel in charge of the Illyrians, you know father couldn’t stand being there any longer than he had to.” 

You frowned, unfortunately unable to forget your fathers cruel behavior at the war camps. How he’d demand public punishment, chaining the males up for their lashings, demanding the other soldiers to watch in warning. 

Something your poor mother would have had to watch, had she not been taken from her family to marry the High Lord. 

“You smell like…” Rhys trailed off, dipping his head closer to your hair. “Burning? What is that?” His brows furrowed, washing over your face in worry, looking for any singed skin, any signs of injury. 

But it was Eris, you smelled like him, just from your brief moment together; like bonfire, burning embers, like that sweet caramel. You shook your head at your brother, brushing it off. “I was attempting something in the kitchen… didn’t quite pan out.” You shrugged at him, hoping it was enough to buy it. 

Either Rhys was not as well trained in sensing smells as he thought, or he simply hadn’t spent enough time with the Autumn heir to pinpoint his scent. Either way, you were grateful. 

 “Father wants to have another ball in the Court of Nightmares,” Rhys said, thankfully changing the subject. “Something to celebrate the birth of Keir’s daughter.” He pressed his lips together, exhaling harshly through his nose. 

“You think Keir is putting him up to it?” You asked, knowing your uncle all too well, ready to draw all the attention to himself, a mask celebrating his new daughter, the blonde babe only a few weeks old. 

Rhys held back whatever he was to say. Whatever he was going to say about his father’s plans for her - but Rhysand swallowed down the thought.  “Probably,” he sighed. 

Your eyes washed across the grey rock, small stones dropping off the cliff edge with each gust of wind. Nobody liked the Court of Nightmares, it was ruled in a constant state of terror, it’s own citizens miserable. You weren’t sure if it was your father or his brothers fault, but neither seemed in a hurry to improve living conditions there. Though the parties were often glamorous, the various courts were too often displeased to travel to the gloomy underworld. 

But at least you’d get to see Eris sooner than either of you hoped. 

________________________________

The red dress you chose was a bit more suited to the Nightmare style, much more fitted and tighter than your usual skirts. Your mother was never a fan of the less is more style of the gloomy court. 

Your father, on the other hand, didn’t understand why you needed to have that silk dyed into a burgundy, the same dark red that matched Eris’s hair. The exact color you knew would drive the territorial male wild. 

The maids had done your hair up much like that last time you saw him, but you opted for the high neckline that drew the eye up the long expanse of your throat. The rest of the dress was tight, pulled taught against your bodice and hips, a long slit showing off only one of your toned legs - gods bless the Illyrian gene. 

Eris thought the exact same thing when he saw you. Taller than most of the pure Night Court females, and no doubt more intimidating with your wings arched high at your back, he watched you move gracefully across the dance floor, greeting friends and flirting with random males. 

You felt Eris’s gaze burning into you, after all, he stood nearly a whole head over the Spring Court male he was pretending to converse with. The Vanserras had dispersed throughout the room, red hair scattered, most flocking to the Night and Day Court females, both of which wore next to nothing. 

Cassian appeared at your side, earning a sigh from you, as he attempted to stare down the Autumn male. “What’s with the stick up his ass,” he grumbled, stepping just in front of your line of sight. He smirked down at you, arms crossed over his wide chest. 

You rolled your eyes, turning to walk toward the table with the Faewine - Mother knew you’d need it. “That color looks lovely on you, (Y/N),” he continued, falling into step beside you. “Wore it just for me?” You knew he was taking the piss, but you couldn’t help but drop your eyes to the bright red siphons on the backs of his hands. He’d earned four thus far, but your brother promised him and Azriel many more once he became High Lord. 

“You must be colorblind, Cassian,” you sighed, brushing it off. He laughed, tilting his head back toward the crowd to find the Vanserra. “Or maybe your more full of yourself than I gave you credit for.”

Cassian took it as a compliment, the cocky male smiling broadly down at you. As you pressed through the mass of Fae, finally finding the wine, your eyes fell onto a pale hand, extending a glass of purplish liquid out to you. You pressed your lips together to suppress the smile that laced your mouth, bright eyes gleaming up at Eris, who, in turn, beamed down to you. 

Cassian made haste to snatch the glass, but you beat him to it, taking the cup in both hands and thanking Eris for the drink. “Pleasure to see you again, Lady (Y/N).”

You almost laughed at the formality, so out of place on the male’s tongue. 

“None for me?” Cassian mocked, eyes wandering up and down the Autumn male, sizing him up. Eris stood a few inches taller than him, glaring down at the Illyrian from under his eyelashes. He stood lean, unable to match Cassian’s muscular build. You weren’t convinced either was I dominated by the other. 

“You have two capable hands, no?” Eris seethed, gaze finally falling back to you, giving you a similar up-and-down. His red eyes lingered on your long leg, your hips and the curve of your breast, hidden beneath the dark red fabric. 

Cassian grumbled a response, glaring at the male as his eyes washed over you. Your cheeks heated, uncomfortable with the third-party viewer, standing so close to the two of you, when all you could think about was Eris’s hands tracing that same path down your body. 

When Eris’s hand fell to the small of you back, warm fingers brushing against the smooth silk of your dress, Cassian’s eyes flitted to Azriel, who was already halfway across the room making his way toward you. You called to Rhys, testing his newly flourishing daemati power. 

Control your guard dogs, you hissed toward him, once you felt his tallon drag down your mental shields just enough. 

They’re protecting you. I don’t need that Autumn filth touching you like that. 

I don’t need them watching my every movement, either. Tell them to leave me alone. You shut him out of your mind without waiting for a response, eyes falling to Rhys across the room, hanging onto every word Tamlin said. You narrowed your eyes at him, once those indigo ones flitted to you momentarily. 

With a roll of his eyes and subtle shake of his head, he glanced toward his two friends, undoubtedly telling them to back off. He turned back to Tamlin as Cassian and Azriel glanced at each other before reluctantly turning to find someone else to bother. “Be careful, (Y/N),” Cassian offered you as he joined his friend. 

“Quite the posse you’ve gotten yourself here,” Eris stated, watching the males walk away with their tails tucked between their legs. 

You leaned into his touch every so slightly, enough to go unnoticed to everyone except the two of you. His hand flattened against your back, fingers splaying over the top of your ass. 

“Eris,” you warned, turning to face him. You didn’t see your father in the crowd, fearful he would find you and Eris standing too close for his liking. Eris was worried about the same thing, actually, but he was too distracted to care about what his father might think about it. 

“Dance with me?” He asked, turning you toward the dancing area, where the orchestra had just begun testing their instruments. 

Your hand fell to his arm, holding his thick bicep through the heavy fabric of his brown jacket. “I don’t want to dance.”

Fire flashed in his eyes and his jaw set as he stared down at you in complete understanding. “Then lead the way.”

You had to force breath in your lungs, not used to the way his voice dropped when he spoke so quietly to you. His words rattled in your bones. 

Taking hold of his hand still behind your back, you brought it around your hip, holding it there, fingers sliding between his. You made your way through the crowd, following the perimeter of the room to avoid as many onlookers as possible. 

All you could think about was his lips pressed against your chest, hands following the curve of your bodice as he held you in the woods. 

Eris, with something similar on his mind, followed you quietly, glaring at any onlookers who watched your swift exit. He bared his teeth at his younger brothers, whooping far off in the crowd, smiling as the heiress of the Night Court led their brother into her bed chambers. 

As soon as you left the ballroom, sneaking through the servant’s exit into the hallway, Eris twisted you around in his arms, holding you firmly by the waist and pulling you flush against his front. His head swooped down to your, capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss, unable to wait any longer. 

Your hands rose immediately to his face, holding his cheeks as you opened your mouth and made to devour him. Fingers rising to curl through his hair, you pressed yourself into him and allowed him to lean forward more, all the way until he backed you into the wall. 

You pulled his hair, grasping at the stands to pull him down more, smashing your lips against his. He groaned, hands splaying down your back to your ass, grabbing your upper thighs and pulling you up against the wall, pinned to his torso. Your legs immediately wrapped around him, ankles crossing behind his back. The both of you were immensely grateful for that slit in your dress, allowing you to mold yourself completely to his front. 

Your arms wound around his neck, locking him against you, letting him sloppily kiss you, and run his tongue against your bottom lip. With a sigh, you granted him access, not caring how messy the kiss was, or who happened to see. 

Eris, apparently disagreeing with the latter, squeezed your ass in his palm, stepping away from the wall, holding you to his chest. “Where am I taking you?” He whispered against your lips. 

Gods, right here. Right now. When you didn’t respond fast enough, still enamored with his mouth on yours, he smacked your ass, earning a yelp and small jerk against his front. You rubbed yourself against him slightly, arching your back to press your chest to his, pulling back just enough to stare into his lust filled eyes. “My room.”

“Okay and…” He sighed, dipping his head to meet the side of your neck, just under where your jaw met your neck. He licked a broad stripe over your sensitive skin, evoking chills down your spine. You gripped the back collar of his jacket to steady yourself as his sharp white teeth sunk softly into your flesh. “Where would that be?”

You sighed against him, wishing there wasn’t as many layers of clothes between you. “That way.” You lazily hung an arm out behind you, pointing down the grand hallway. Eris placed a sloppy kiss to your neck as he began his journey, easily carrying you through the empty halls. 

He carried you through the cold corridors, following your breathless directions as you planted wet kisses across his jawline. He burned hot, something you chalked up to the fire flowing through his veins. He wanted nothing more than to take you in the middle of the hallway, especially as he felt you bouncing against his dick as he half-ran up the stairs to your bedroom, your warm cunt rubbing against the front of his pants. 

“Left,” you whispered, kissing against his ear and he approached one of the final doors. He kicked open the heavy mahogany door easily, letting you reach a hand behind him and slam it shut. 

Without letting you go, his lips found yours again, messier than before, one hand framing your face to tilt your head perfectly opposite of his so he could devour you. 

He ever so slowly dragged himself to the bed, where he knelt on the mattress and laid you against the plush blankets and mountain of pillows. Your wings stretched out behind you side to side, and Eris’s eyes moved from left to right, taking it in. “Is that comfortable?” You nodded, and barely unhooked your legs from him, just enough so he could lean before you, pulling away only to drink you in. 

The most beautiful female he’d ever seen, there laying under him, waiting for him to take her oh so slowly. Eris never thought he had good karma, but that night he felt like the luckiest male in the world. 

His hand ran down your front, from your neck to your chest, over the curve of your breast and down your stomach, along that bare thigh. He breathed your name, a sigh of relief, finally able to continue what he’d started in the woods. 

He brought his hand up to your face, thumb brushed over your cheekbone as he dropped his other hand opposite of your head, positioning himself over you. Eris leaned in so slowly, pressing a careful, soft kiss to your waiting lips. 

It was the kiss he intended to have that first time, so slow and perfect. You hummed against him, hands circling around his neck again and curling in his hair. You broke only for breath, for a split second before capturing each other’s lips again. 

You quickly tired of his patience, of that carefully planned out kiss, instead pulling him further into you, legs tightening around him. He didn’t flatten against the mattress until you’d pulled yourself up to meet him, your core pressed into him as he hovered over the mattress. 

He chuckled against your lips, pinching your ass before he fully dropped to the plush covers, leaning his weight into you. Your arms wined down his torso, nails raking against the sewn embellishments on the front of his jacket. 

“This needs to come off,” Eris breathed, lips moving to skin over the flushed skin under your jaw. His hands fell over your hips, unable to keep still, dragging from your waist to your hips, curling around to hold the soft flesh of your ass that was pressed against the mattress. 

“Say please, Eris,” you mewed breathlessly, much like he had said during your last encounter in the Autumn forest. Your hands waded through his hair and down his back, desperate to pull him closer to you. 

He sighed heavily, dragging his lips up the side of your jaw, kissing his way up under your ear. His tongue dragged up the shell of your ear as he pressed his cock into you, grinding against you through your thin dress. You let out a shaky breath, wishing you’d made him disrobe before climbing over you. His lips touched your ear as he whispered his plea. “Please, (Y/N).” 

You moaned, opening your legs wider for him to settle between, for him to press his cock against your aching core. His hand ran down your leg, exposed from the slit cut all the way up to your hip. His fingertips barely touched you, yet left a wake of fire in their path. His hand found purchase under your ass, where he pulled you upward, impossibly closer to him as he continued his desperate movements, rutting against you. “Please.”

You picked your head up from the mattress, hands sliding across his chest to push him off of you. He sat up immediately, though not dropping his hands from your backside. You stared at him, through half lidded eyes as you reached your arms over your head behind you, unfastening the few buttons at the back of your neck, holding the collar of your dress together. 

As you worked your way down, Eris’s hands fell from your ass and instead joined your own hands, moving back so you could sit up and he could unfasten the remaining buttons. His long arms stretched behind you, giving you the perfect opportunity to work on the layers of hooks and buttons lining the front of his suit. 

The golden hooks were quick to unfasten, and you pushed open his suit jacket so it hung loosely off his shoulders and you made haste on the white shirt underneath. Eris’s movements slowed as he became distracted with your work. You pulled the cotton material, untucking it from his tailored brown trousers, finishing off the rest of his buttons. 

Your fingers danced down the pale skin of his abdomen, tracing the muscle lines down under his bellybutton, along the faint pale hairs that led into those thick pants. As you pulled at the ends of his white shirt, your knuckles brushed against the bulge in his pants, grazing his throbbing cock underneath however many more layers. 

His eyes fluttered closed, lips parted just slightly as you stared up at him, the beautiful male in your bed, desperate for your touch. His hands were frozen behind you, one palm curling around you, laying flat against your collarbone and the curve of your throat, gripping your shoulder. The other held a death grip on the soft fabric behind your back, the only other thing grounding him to you. 

Your fingers traced the outline of his cock, around the swell until you found yourself back at the hem of his trousers. You brushed against his shaking skin, muscles trembling beneath you as you hooked your fingers inside his pants, making your way to unfasten the button and pull him free. 

But a knock sounded at the door. 

Eris snapped out of his trance, head swiveling to the door, unsure of whether your visitor would be entering the room, too. 

Azriel, who undoubtedly knew what you were doing and exactly who you were doing it with, offered you a merciful knock and warning. “Make yourself decent before your brother barges in.”

You prayed to all the gods that he wasn’t watching with those forsaken shadows. 

“Fuck,” you hissed, pulling your hands away, buttoning the back of your dress together again. Eris dropped his hands to his front, hastily closing all of his garments and falling back to sit on the bed before you. 

Eris watched you as he then clambered off the bed, standing before you just in time for Rhys to push past Azriel and into your room. You shoved your legs out in front of you, sitting behind Eris, making sure your dress was placed to cover all of your exposed areas. “Get the out,” you called, pressing your hands against the silk of your dress. 

“You’re talking to him, right?” Rhys mocked, staring at the wild-haired Autumn male. “If he touched you, (Y/N), Cauldron help him - ”

You stood behind Eris, who shuffled aside to make room for you to face your brother. “Shut up, Rhysand. I’m not a child - ”

Cassian burst into the room, Azriel slithering in beside him, both of them flanking your brother. 

The trio of purity, apparently. 

“So you think you can fuck this Autumn scum?”

Before you could bite back a response to your unwelcome brother, Cassian was desperate to chime in, interested in landing some blows on the male beside you. Azriel’s expression remained neutral, bored even. His shadows skidded across the floor, swirling around Eris’s ankles. 

“Betrothed Autumn scum,” Cassian added with a grin. 

You couldn’t stop your head from whipping to the side, staring up at Eris, whose eyes were wide with surprise. “Betrothed?” You whispered, mouth hanging open ever so slightly, wings shuddering behind you. Your stomach dropped to your feet, a dull ache forming in your chest with each heartbeat. “You knew you were promised to someone else and you still…” you couldn’t raise your voice, couldn’t finish what you were about to say, even. 

“I wasn’t going to marry her - I already told my father - ” Eris’s hand reached up from his side to grab your hand, to hold you as he continued his story. 

You barely moved, only enough to curl your arms behind your back. You continued to stare up at the male, the one who had touched you, who kissed you, who was prepared to beg for you, all while knowing you could never be his, and he yours. His red eyes burned into yours, brows knit, pleading for you to hear him out - how he already told his father he’d never marry that female. That he’d sooner leave the Autumn Court than take her as his wife, his Queen. 

“Marry who?” Rhys asked, his own eyebrows pulled taught in insincerity. He was nearly giddy with anticipation. 

Eris’s eyes traveled slowly across the room, afraid to leave yours, already brimming with tears, instead to meet your brother’s sparkling eyes. If looks could kill, Rhysand would have fallen then and there. But the Autumn male refused to answer, instead his jaw clenched, fire burning at his palm where it hung in the air, still reaching out to you. 

You paid no mind to the smoldering before you, to the sparks that very well could have burned the room down, should Eris will it. Your head swiveled to Cassian, smirking at Eris, head tilted back in pleasure with the knife that is about to be wielded through Eris’s heart. Rhysand didn’t smile, but the gleam in his eye and twitch at the corner of his mouth made you want to slap it off his face, even though you had a mind to slap Eris twice as hard. It was Azriel who spoke, though, the man of few words suddenly finding his footing. His head was tilted forward so that the darkness cascading through the room covered those bright hazel eyes, causing him to become one with the night. And ever the Shadowsinger, his knowledge was unmatched. “Morrigan.”

Eris flinched, blinking so slowly, so afraid to direct his attention back to you. 

Baby Morrigan. 

He was betrothed to your cousin. She was set to grow up, groomed especially for the Autumn heir, and marry him the moment she turned eighteen. You clenched your stomach, fumbling a step backward, unable to stop yourself from heaving over, bent at the waist. Eris jutted a hand out to catch you, to which your eyes were immediately drawn to. Your wings flared out behind you, for balance, but also in pure Illyrian instinct, scaring away the approaching predator. 

You held your stomach, twisting and churning, shaking your head rapidly, frowning, unable to meet his pleading eyes. You shut your own eyes, praying no tears slipped through as you turned, wings high, back facing him as you made to throw up on the floor. 

You didn’t want to imagine those hands on you, those hands meant for your cousin in some sick scheme his father and your uncle - and probably your father - had come up with. 

Rhysand took his opportunity to launch himself at the male, unstopped by Cassian and Azriel. He threw himself at Eris, who was caught off guard, attention still drawn to you. Rhysand landed his fist directly against his face, causing both of them to go tumbling to the ground. 

Cassian extended a hand toward you, which you took, holding yourself up. He held you in place, stopping you from falling onto the ground and heaving your guts. His other hand fell to your back, just below your wings, as he guided you out of the room, leaving Azriel supervising the brawling males, should Eris pull his unfair advantage and use his fire against Rhys. 

You knew the two Illyrians would have jumped in already if it truly was a battle to the death. It was something meant between your fathers and uncle, something they’d have to deal with later. 

But honestly you didn’t care if they killed each other. Eris, the male who’d known he was to be married, knew exactly who he was expected to marry, and still touched you; still had taken you to your own bedroom begging to fuck you. Rhysand, you knew wasn’t innocent, using this information - that he knew for gods knew how long - against you, meant to hurt Eris but not caring how much it would hurt you. 

________________________________

You hadn’t gone back to your bedroom after that, after Cassian had led you to the library to calm down. He’d sat you down on the sofa, watching from a few steps away as you dropped your head in your hands, elbows propped on your shaking knees. Your stomach curled, flopping as you sucked in air, willing yourself not to vomit. 

Unsure of when the two fighting males would give up on their fight, you left for Velaris. You had told Cassian you needed some time to sort through your thoughts and sent him back to make sure the heirs didn’t kill each other - that, and inform the both of them to leave you alone once they inevitably cooled off. 

Eris, you knew would never find Velaris - he could search the entirety of the Night Court and he’d never find you, simply just lose the trace of your scent in the mountains. Rhysand, on the other hand, would find you immediately. With Cassian relaying your message, you knew you’d only bought yourself a few days. 

You had no interest in speaking with him, to see the bruises on his face and the messy black hair you imagined Eris had singed with his fire. He crawled into your mind, knocking gently on your mental shields, leaving when you wouldn’t let him in. He left you to spend a week in Velaris, Azriel sending word that Rhys told your father you were visiting Velaris to see some old friends. 

You stayed inside the townhouse, bundled up in your dark bedroom for a few days. You could barely manage to light the hearth, the warm fire that heated the cozy room quickly. The crackling wood reminded you of Eris, of his temperament and quick wit. But staring at the orange flames licking at the darkness only made your heart sink. 

His smell wrapped around you, the oak burning and swirling through the small room. You imagined his arms around you, wrapped up in the Autumn forest, red and orange and brown leaves falling beside you. You wished you could show him Velaris, hide him away in your little home, the one that hadn’t seen another visitor since your mother, since she passed so long ago. You wished you still wanted to show him Velaris. You wished you could look into those burning eyes - those that haunted your sleep - without the wave of nauseousness crashing over you. 

When you’d grown tired of laying around, not eating or drinking, you’d ventured out through the snow to the small cafe in the Rainbow, making light conversation with the passing citizens of Velaris. The second you sat down in the small shop, and not a moment too soon, the Shadowsinger plopped down across from you, glaring at you under his eyelashes. 

“So you have been watching me,” you muttered over the rim of your mug, sipping the hot chocolate slowly. 

He offered you a shrug, dropping his hands to his lap. “Following orders,” he replied, voice low and quiet. 

“My brother’s or my father’s?”

He leveled your gaze, wings perched up and stead behind him. “Does it matter?”

You gave him the same shrug he graced you with. “And what message have you come to deliver from them?”

“None,” he said, leaning forward, reaching into the chest pocket on his leathers, pulling out a neatly folded letter. The white envelope remained sealed, the wax crest of the Autumn Court fully intact along the paper opening. He slid it across the table, carefully watching as your eyes fell to the letter in his scarred hand. 

You bit your lip, afraid to touch the paper. “You came to personally deliver this letter?”

Azriel stifled a sigh, falling back into his chair. “This is the latest one. There’s a mountain more that had been hand delivered to the Court of Nightmares, no doubt all begging an audience with you.” You didn’t miss the humor in his voice, the lack of surprise that laced his tone. 

“I’ve only been gone a week,” you replied, picking up the letter, fingertip grazing over the hardened red wax. “Why did you give this to me?” Your eyes lifted to the Shadowsinger’s hazel ones, focused on you from across the table.

“I know you weren’t there or aware, even, of the deal that transpired between the Night Court and Autumn Court,” he began, words chosen carefully. “But I think it would behoove you to hear the story from his perspective.” You rolled your eyes at the Illyrian, offering him nothing but a hefty exhale. “And then let Rhysand tell you what transpired.” 

He spoke as if the stories differed, as if Azriel knew what had happened in both of the separate conversations. Perhaps being the Spymaster of Night Court had its perks, the unlimited access to information, the truth and lies that were traded between courts. Maybe Azriel was truly the only one with all of the information. “Because Rhysand will tell me something different than Eris?” You asked innocently - stupidly, perhaps.

The Shadowsinger stood, wings flitting out ever so slightly as he made to leave. “I had eyes on Vanserra after he left the Court of Nightmares,” he stated simply, as if it were nothing but normal. “He’s beside himself with guilt. Nearly got himself killed by returning to his father after what Rhys and Cassian did to him.” Your stomach lurched, unable to imagine the injury those two Illyrians would have inflicted on him. “He’s a good male.”

You peered up at the tall male, mouth running dry at those unexpected words. “And what - you aren’t going to hate him just because Rhysand does?” 

Azriel stared back, and just before leaving the cafe he said, “You deserve the truth, at least, (Y/N).”

________________________________

You’d thrown the letter into the fire. 

After making your way back to the Court of Nightmares, back to the cold stony walls of your father’s estate, you sent word to call to Eris. Your sentry escorted the male to your Court the next day, an offer he hadn’t thought twice about accepting. 

You’d worn your finest gown, a long black dress that pooled around your shoes, but was buttoned all the way up your neck. The fabric itself was as dark as your wings, black corset ensuring you sat tall and intimidating. You waited for Eris in the throne room, perched atop your father’s dark chair, a metal crown placed atop your head, jewels lacing your covered neck. 

The heiress of the Night Court, unafraid of the fiery Autumn male, not intimidated, not to be pushed around, not going to back down. 

Your guard led him into the room, hand placed on his sword, announcing his entrance. “My lady (Y/N), Eris Vanserra of the Autumn Court.” 

You peered down at him from the top of the throne, dropping only your eyes to the male, as you held your chin high and shoulders back. Your hands gripped the edges of the arm rests, though, as you willed yourself not to shake. You kept your wings outstretched behind you - the epitome of Nightmare. You nodded at the sentry, dismissing him, leaving you and Eris alone in the stone room. 

His gaze did not waver from you. He was nervous, of course, unsure of if you’d let him speak, and if you would even believe him should you hear him out. Never having seen you as powerful, he was prepared to drop to his knees and bow to you, the powerful female of Night. 

Despite the week of healing, you still saw the bruise under his eye, purple fading into yellow, and the still healing cuts along his bottom lip and cheekbone. It was truly a testament to how badly Cassian and Rhys had hurt him - that, or perhaps Beron, dealing out an additional punishment once he returned home already beaten. “Thank you,” he whispered, voice cracking despite the low volume. 

“Considering your attempts to reach me,” you began, leaning toward where he stood before you. “I would think you had something important to tell me.” He swallowed, throat bobbing beneath the tall collar of his sweater. You waited for him to nod, then continued. “I don’t want you to explain that night - ” your stomach turned and your heart hammered in your chest as you remembered how your brother’s friends delivered the news. How it rocked you to your core, the most unexpected news that disgusted every ounce of your being. “ - how long have you known?”

You couldn’t hold back the bite in your tone, and Eris all but flinched. His shoulders sagged a bit as he held his hands up in surrender, taking two steps closer to you. Those tall riding boots clanged against the cold floor, echoing in the hollow room. “I knew my father had been planning on making arrangements for my marriage - he’d been planning it since the day I was born. He had meetings in secret with your father, ones that I was not privy to.”

You let out a slow breath, narrowing your eyes at the male before you. “How long have you known?”

“It’s not that simple,” he said, holding himself back from holding his hands out toward you. As your sparkling eyes narrowed at him, the darkness from the corners loomed closer, strangling the light in the room. He took a nervous step closer to you, away from the pure night that cascaded around him. “Beron has planned for me to marry a different female - gods only know who - but your father disagreed. It was Keir who stepped in and - ”

“Eris,” you interrupted. 

“I’ve known since before you came to the Autumn woods, that very first night.” He did jut out a hand, still too far to reach you. “But I didn’t know who until just before the ball.” You bit your bottom lip, swallowing the words that threatened to pour out of your throat, willing away the tears that pricked the back of your eyes. At your silence, Eris panicked, filling the silence with more explanation. “I was going to tell you (Y/N), I swear it - that night, I was going to tell you everything. I wouldn’t go through with it.”

You nodded numbly. “Yet you didn’t.”

Eris inched closer, knee bent and foot propped on the first step on the landing up towards the throne. He ran a hand through his messy curls, the frustration clear on his face. “I know and it’s my fault but I saw you in that godsdamned dress and I just couldn’t. I would have after if they hadn’t barged in.”

After. Gods, you wanted to be so mad at him. So mad for his intention to bed you even with the knowledge of his betrothal. And with who. You wanted to be mad, but couldn’t help the butterflies that swirled in your stomach at the thought of him pressing you into the mattress, fucking you until all you could remember was his name. You pressed your legs together at the memory of his cock dragging against your core, even through the thin silk of your dress. Thankfully, your current gown was puffy enough that you thought he missed your subtle movement. 

He didn’t. 

Eris took another step closer, climbing up two steps at a time as he reached the top of the landing. It was then he who was peering down at you, standing taller than the back of the throne itself. “(Y/N),” he whispered, taking a knee before you. He pulled your left hand from the arm of the chair, the last lifeline you had to the real world. Darkness swirled around both of you, pure sparkling night to keep out any leering eyes and ears. His large pale hands cupped yours, warmth leeching your cool skin. “I would never marry her. I told my father - told your father - ” 

Your eyes flashed, a gasp parted your lips. Your father. It may have been him that had beaten Eris for disobeying his order, for ruining his plan to tie the courts together. Gods, it could have been the both of them - two mighty High Lords wielding their powers against the near defenseless male. 

“I told them I wouldn’t marry her. (Y/N),” he murmured, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to each of the knuckles on the back of your hand. “I won’t listen to them.” With a final kiss, he brought his glowing eyes back up to yours. “I’ll leave my whole court for you. I need you - and only you.”

You stared at him, level with those hypnotizing red eyes, flames of burning passion pouring into you. He leaned into you, free hand curling around the back of your head, cheek brushing your thumb as he tilted your head. “I missed you dearly,” he whispered. “The most painful week of my life.”

You raised your other hand up to his face, holding his jaw in your palm. Your thumb traced the cut on his cheek, the nearly healed mark on his upper lip. He smiled ever so slightly as you traced over his lip, taking in all the damage that had been inflicted on the male. “I can see that,” you replied dryly, voice barely audible. 

He shook his head gently, not enough to disturb your hand pressed ever so lightly against his face. “No,” he breathed. He lifted your hand, still clasped together in your lap, and held your open hand against his chest. “In here, (Y/N). And I swear I won’t let them keep us apart anymore.” Eris pressed his lips against your palm. 

You pulled your hand away from him, off that soft corduroy, and held the other side of his face. Without any more hesitation, Eris bent forward and captured your lips with his. 

________________________________

You went to find Rhys later that night, once you’d sent Eris on his way back to Autumn. You didn’t want to dwell on it for too long, despite how much you missed the taste of his lips and that bonfire smell that laced his skin. 

You heeded Azriel’s advice to hear Rhysand’s side of the story, hoping he would at least make more sense of the situation. And you’d been ignoring your brother for most of the time that you’d been back in the Night Court. “Nice of you to stop by,” he said once you walked into his bedchamber, finding him propped up at his desk, nose buried in a pile of books. 

You rolled your eyes, of course he was already keen to start a fight. “I could do us both a favor and just leave,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. 

Rhys shut the book he was looking at and stared up at you, dark eyes exactly like your father’s. “You took it the wrong way - ”

“Wrong way, Rhys, really? Was there a right way to take that news? That you thought would be so funny to let Azriel and Cassian deliver?”

Rhys failed to suppress the smile that leached up on his lips, reminiscing in the memory of his friends delivering that blow to Eris. He shook his head, frowning a bit to hide the smile. “It wasn’t meant to be funny, it was meant to keep him away from you. I told you to stay away from him, didn’t I?”

You stared at your brother in his I told you so power trip. “You could have told me beforehand instead of barging into my room like that.”

“I wasn’t expecting to but when Azriel told me he was in your room alone with you I had no other choice, (Y/N). You should be thanking me for keeping him away from you.”

You scoffed, eyes widening. “First of all, you did nothing to keep him away from me. And secondly, I don’t even want to be away from him - ”

“I did more than you know,” he muttered, eyes flitting back to the pile of papers on his desk. When you stared at him, waiting for him to continue, he stood, mirroring your position, arms crossed and glaring at you. “For all you know, you would have ended up stranded in the Autumn Court married to that fool.”

You weighed each word carefully, unsure what to even say. 

Married to that fool. 

Married. 

You bit the inside of your cheek, dropping your head in your hand, fingers rubbing at your forehead. “So you let them go and offer him baby Morrigan instead?” You were nearly yelling at him, the mountain of information swirling in your head, unable to hear yourself even think, let alone speak. 

Rhys was near flabbergasted. “I didn’t know Keir would get into the mix - for fuck’s sake they would have taken your wings! It’s the Autumn Court, (Y/N), they’re sick! I would have dealt with her later, I have eighteen years to do it! You didn’t have time - but now you do. I ensured it - you can find someone here, stay here where you’ll be safe.”

“Keeping me here is not keeping me safe, Rhysand,” you replied, leveling your gaze at him. “I’m a fucking prisoner here. You never let me fly, you forbid me of seeing any other courts - I’m bored here, I’m so sick of it here - ” your voice dropped. “Nothing’s been the same since mom died. And trying to pretend nothing happened, keeping everything exactly the same…” you sighed. “It’s not working, Rhys.”

He stood unmoving and unwavering, processing your words. “You have to trust me, (Y/N).”

You shouldn’t have been surprised he still thought he was right, the male had never thought of himself being in the wrong before. “I do but you have to trust me.” 

With that, you turned on your heel, gathering up your skirts and leaving his room. He didn’t try to stop you - he’d be dumb if he couldn’t figure out where you were headed. 

You made a pit stop in your bedchamber, removing your long heavy dress for a short, thin shift, hidden under a long wool coat. You dove off the balcony without a second thought, dropping off the cliff amongst the cold air. Half of you almost didn’t want to stretch out your wings, instead just disappear into the fog collecting in the dark valley. 

But the other half of you called to Eris, to the warm fire and colorful leaves. 

You flew faster than you ever had, the cold wind nipping at your ears and biting your cheeks. Rhysand’s words rang in your head, about your planned marriage to Eris. Surely you would have felt different about the male, had you been introduced to him as your betrothed. On the other hand, you wondered if Eris knew you were set to be married. That would have been something he’d have told you today - you prayed to the Mother you were right. 

You weren’t going to slow down, not as you rushed through the mountains and through the cold air of Winter. You didn’t stop until you saw the red trees approaching, until you smelled the sweet cinnamon in the air and the burning logs in the distance. You didn’t stop, even as Rhysand’s words rattled around your head: they would have taken your wings. 

Eris met you the minute you landed, winnowing to your spot in the woods - the clearing you’d last met at. He pulled you straight into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest and running his hand through your loose hair. His warm palm hovered over your ear, warmth swirling through your bloodstream. You sighed into him, his warm spiced scent wrapping around you. 

“We can’t stay here,” he whispered, lips brushing against your forehead as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “The guards are looking for you - they were onto you the moment you crossed the border.”

You turned up to face him, unable to unwrap your arms from where they were clasped behind his back. Your wings ached, chest heaving with desperation for air. “I - ”

Eris shook his head, kissing the cold tip of your nose. His hand brushed up your back, dangerously close to where your wings stemmed out from under your coat. It sent shivers down your spine. “Let me take care of you, (Y/N),” he whispered, red eyes burning into yours.

Without much more than a nod, Eris winnowed you out of the woods into a warm wood cabin. A fire was roaring in the hearth, reaching out toward Eris, crawling to its master. The floor and walls were lined with mahogany of the deepest brown, thick tapestries and portraits hanging on the walls. In the corner sat a large bed, plush blankets and fur throws piled high on the mattress. You gazed upward at Eris, still holding you in his arms, face barely illuminated in the soft candle light. His eyes were soft, glinting with red as he smiled down at you, eyelashes casting shadows down his cheekbones. He curled a piece of hair around your ear and brushed his thumb along your jawline. He bent down toward you, offering you a small kiss. “They won’t find us here,” he whispered, still holding you against his chest. “I have a little hideout close to the coast. Sorry it’s a little small but - ”

“It’s perfect,” you whispered, stretching up on your tiptoes to kiss him again. He hummed against your lips, dragging his hands over your sides and up to the claps that held your coat together. He deftly unhooked the garment, dragging the heavy wool over your shoulders. It hung off your back, buttons under your wings still fastened. 

You stifled a laugh, taking a step back from Eris and breaking your kiss with a giggle. “This is new,” he muttered, waiting as you grabbed the tail of your coat, quickly unhooking the final buttons and dropping the coat. 

His eyes widened, lips parted slightly as he took in your clothes - what little remainder of them still hung on your body. The silk black nightgown didn’t leave much to the imagination, dipping low on your chest and stopping short under your hips. His eyes traveled the expanse of your chest, down to the swell of your hips and strong thighs. He licked his lips, staring at you with hungry intention. “If you don’t mind, (Y/N),” he began, hand falling to your hip as he stepped closer to you. “I’d like to finish what we started in your bedroom.”

You nodded, tipping your head back to allow him to kiss you. You offered him a smile, gazing up at him from under your eyelashes. “You said we should have our privacy now, no?”

“Not unless your Shadowsinger decides to stop by,” he grumbled, hoisting you up by the back of your thighs and pulling you into his arms. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist and hummed, sticking your head in the crook of his neck, kissing the side of his neck. “If he does,” you replied, teeth dragging over the corner of his jaw. “He can just watch.”

Eris barked out a laugh, one that vibrated your lips against his neck. He gave your ass a light squeeze, his palm spreading over the expanse of your backside. “Little minx. I have no idea what goes on in that Court of yours,” he muttered, dropping a knee to the mattress, still holding you against him. “And I think I may be too jealous to find out.”

Your hand curled upward around the back of his neck, fingers intertwining in his red hair. “Then show me how an Autumn heir fucks,” you breathed, pressing your core against the front of his trousers. 

Eris breathed a sigh of expletives, laying you down on the plush throws before him. Your legs remained bent at his sides, letting him settle between your legs, staring down at you. He dragged a line down your leg, from your knee to your thigh, as he took in your beauty. “I’m not going to fuck you, (Y/N),” he murmured, fingers carefully pushing up the hem of your shift. “We have many nights ahead, where I will fuck you into this very bed - so hard you’ll be begging me to stop.” You shivered beneath his touch as the silk pooled around your waist. “Tonight, I’m going to show you how sorry I am. Show you how much you really mean to me.”

He dipped his head toward yours, so close that all you had to do was lift your head and purse your lips to reach him - before he pulled back, dropping his head to your chest, kissing a line across your breasts, licking your nipple through the silk. You huffed a sigh and dropped your head back into the mattress, arching toward him as he pressed his tongue against the smooth dress. “Eris,” you moaned when his head traveled farther down, just until his nose brushed against your belly, lips touching your slit. 

“That’s it, (Y/N).” His hands traveled the expanse of your thighs, prying them open and pressing them against the blankets. “So ready for me.” He licked a long stripe up your pussy, hot and writhing and begging. 

You arched up into him, yelping out in surprise as he flicked your clit. You’d been waiting for that moment, to have Eris buried between your legs - but nothing you imagined could have compared. Not as his tongue teased you around your clit, only touching the sensitive bud so rarely, only when you were begging for him to do so. “Please, Eris,” you called, ankles crossed over his back. 

He stuck his tongue upwards, curling up between your folds, making its way inside of you. As you lifted your hips, trying to shift your position so that his tongue met your clit, he smiled, turning his head to bite the inside of your thigh. Eris laughed at your shaking breath, finally giving in and licking a stripe up your clit. He directed his ministrations to bringing you to orgasm, flicking his tongue back and forth over the bud. 

You grabbed a fistful of his hair, crying out as your legs shook wildly. He held you in place, which just so happened to involve your thighs clenched tightly around his head. He would have smiled if he hadn’t been so caught up with taking you over the edge, obsessed with how you were crossed between holding him in place and pushing him away. Your stomach clenched, arched off the bed as you rode out your orgasm. 

Eris was hesitant to move, unsure if he ever wanted to move or just spend the rest of his days buried between your thighs. Eventually he moved, not without pressing a kiss to your sensitive clit. He stepped backwards, watching as you laid limp on the bed, so blissfully fucked, watching his movements with half lidded eyes. He stripped out of all of his clothing, unable to wait any longer with how hard his cock was pressing against his tight trousers. 

He had a lean build, muscle coiled around his long limbs. You made out a few scars across his pale chest, ones you’d be able to make out better once you had some better light. The candle light didn’t do justice to his build, though you vowed to spend the next night exploring his body. As you eyes the heavy dick that hung between his legs, standing at attention, your mouth ran dry, but only one thing was on your mind. He crawled on top of you, propping himself over you with an elbow beside your head. 

“I can’t go back there, Eris,” you breathed, staring up at his red eyes. Your fingers brushed over his pointed ear, over the soft curls that fell around his face. “I can’t go back.” You weren’t sure if it was the post-orgasm haze that made you never want to leave Eris and his bed, or it was that one percent of you that was still scared of what came after, when you inevitably had to go.

“You never have to go back, I swear it.” His brows furrowed in determination, in sincerity. His lips pressed into a firm line as he nodded down to you. 

“Do you think Autumn will look good on me?” You whispered, smiling up at him. 

He sighed, pressing his body into you. As his chest met yours, stomach pressed together, his cock fell forward, hanging between your bodies. The tip touched your belly, heavy and ready, precum leaking from the tip. You hummed as you fit your hand between the two of you, running your palm over his lengthy cock. “You look good in my bed,” he replied, kissing your lips. “You look good in nothing at all.” You rubbed his dick, wrapping your palm around him and pumping a few times. “You will look good in Autumn red, in my colors.” His lips found your neck as he licked a long path over the curve of your neck, biting down as you moved his cock to tease the tip between your folds. He had already made a mess between your legs, the sound of his dick rubbing at your entrance sang through the room. “And you will look so fucking good as my wife.” He sighed, along with you, as he pushed his cock forward, sliding inside of you with ease. 

You could have cried with how far Eris pushed into you, how he slid so far, all the way until he was fully hilted inside of you. He let out a shaky breath, pulling all the way out before sliding back in slowly, savoring every moment. He had come so close to this so many times, so many times that he had to fuck his fist with the thought of that sweet caramel running over your chest. 

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him forward, meeting him in a messy kiss. His tongue met yours, lips sloppily sliding over yours as he devoured you. His hand moved between you to grab a handful of your breast, to flick your nipple and squeeze the plump flesh. 

You curled your legs around him, holding your hips off the bed to allow a better angle for him to fuck you, for him to push his cock all the way inside of you - just a bit farther. Enough to have the tip of his cock pressing against your belly, aching in your womb. 

You grabbed his hand, the one squeezing your breast as you held it to your lips, kissing each of his fingertips. His eyes traveled from watching where the two of you were connected, where his cock slid in and out of your pussy so effortlessly, so perfectly, to your eyes. You let him watch you move his hand over your shoulder, holding it just above the bone of your wing. His brows crossed, and his hips faltered for the first time all evening. 

You nodded, holding him by the wrist as his thumb met the dark leathery skin. You jumped in surprise, despite the anticipation of him touching such a private extension of yourself. Eris let out a shaky breath as your cunt clenched around him, the involuntary reaction so unexpected. He smiled through his shock, letting his index finger run along the bone. 

“Eris,” you nearly begged, crossing your ankles around his back, pulling him back into you further. He snapped out of his fixation, leaning over you again, letting his cock sink all the way back into you. He rocked back and forth, barely moving as he rutted against your front. You moaned, his dick rubbing the sweet spot inside of you. His hands pulled you up, hoisting you by the small of your back as he fell back to sit on his knees. 

Eris settled you on his cock, earning a breathless sigh as he pierced you even deeper than he had before. You steadied yourself by letting your feet fall to the mattress on either side of him, bouncing yourself slowly on his dick. His hands moved from your back to your ass, squeezing as he moved you even more, riding him harder and harder. 

When your head tipped back, sighing in pure bliss, his hands rose to where your wings stemmed from your back, swirling around the soft skin of your back. Your breath shuttered, anticipation of his next movement stirring in your blood. Your eyes had fallen shut and you gripped his shoulders for dear life, still rocking back and forth on his cock as his fingers traced down your spine between your wings. 

You dug your fingernails into his shoulder, earning a growl from the male below you. He traced the outer shell of your wing, the hard bone from the base to the crux of the bend. You squeezed your legs together, clenching around Eris as his featherlight touch ran back and forth. “Eris - I can’t - ” You choked out a breath, squeezing your eyes shut and sitting straight, dropping your forehead against his. 

He hadn’t known what it felt like to touch your wings, and wouldn't have imagined how soft they felt. He sure as hell couldn’t imagine how it felt for you - but he wasn’t expecting to wield such a reaction out of you. “Yes you can, (Y/N),” he dipped down and pressed a kiss to your lips, watching as you came on his cock. He only dropped his hands when he absolutely had to, when you had come so hard your legs shook, unable to hold yourself up. He lifted you up and down slowly, moving you forward and back so your clit brushed against his pelvis as you came. You harshly gasped as the sensitive bud rubbed against his skin, against the coarse hair trailing from his navel. “My fucking good little bat,” he breathed, kissing your jawline. You exhaled a steady breath, hands hanging limply over his back, legs flexed but lack, letting Eris still move you atop his lap. 

As he moved his lips over the crook of your neck, he blew cool air over the arch of your wing, causing them to widen and flex behind you, as you clenched around him for the final time, riding out the remainder of your orgasm. Eris came as you slid over him, shivering as his orgasm took over and he came into you, painting your insides. He ran hot, body temperature raising as he groaned, rutting into you with fever. 

You curled your arms around him again, letting him lower you back to the mattress, legs hooked around his waist. Eris simply settled back between your legs, holding you close to his burning chest as he nuzzled his face into your neck. You didn’t want to let him go, for him to move and pull his cock from you. You could spend the rest of your life wrapped in his arms in his bed. 

And Eris felt the same. “Stay with me, (Y/N),” he whispered, running his hand over your messy hair.

Your heart swelled. “Here?” You but your lip, if he asked you to stay in Autumn, you would. No matter threat threats your brother or Beron would attempt, you would stay beside Eris.

“Gods, anywhere,” he replied, voice muffled in the crook of your neck. “Just with me, (Y/N), please.”

You pressed a kiss to the crown of his head. “Anywhere. Always.”

[leafkingofbirds]

Next chapter Preview: Eclipse Edition!

In honor of the total solar eclipse today, have this snippet I just finished writing! 😄

**this is still a first draft and you may find typos. But I am open to feedback & suggestions! 🥰

***

Somehow, Kieran winds up at the base of Sir Monty’s favorite tree. On his knees, his heart pounding, staring blankly at the dirt but seeing nothing. Too lost in his own mind and the troubles of his soul.

Give me peace, he begs whatever unseen force rules over life and death. Give me clarity. I must be everything Ella needs me to be.

But there is no divine intervention. Only himself, alone. As it has always been, since the death of his mother.

He would have sought his mother's grave, but the royal mausoleum is buried beneath the rubble of the destroyed Full Moon Chamber. 

Instead he has come to Sir Monty’s. The last parental figure he would ever have.

His oldest friend is gone to the tyrant’s side. Whether Oleander has betrayed Kieran or has some plan up their sleeve doesn’t matter. Oleander isn’t here to give any of their sage advice.

Dear Longclaw has her own heavy grief. Even her big heart is weighed down with the loss of not only the last of her beloved family – as abhorrent as Radiance was – but the loss of her own sense of self. It wouldn’t be fair to ask for her help, even if she was currently capable of giving it.

Ella would try to be there for him. But to go to her would be worse than dealing with it alone. Her heartless state is but more evidence of his failure and his guilt. 

“Mother,” Kieran gasps aloud without meaning to. A deep-set plea to a woman he had not set eyes upon since he was almost too young to remember and who will never answer his cries again. 

The word only opens the wound inside him, digging deeper, ripping open old wounds until they bled anew. His mother is the reason for all of this. Jack is the reason.

As if called by Kieran's very thoughts, he hears soft footsteps in the grass cautiously approach behind him. 

“So this is where you ran off to,” Jack muses. His voice is subdued. A hush has fallen over the entire place in the wake of the battle, an aura of death and defeat.

“Leave me,” Kieran growls without turning around.

Instead, the footsteps only come closer. To Kieran's shock and irritation, Jack kneels before the small square of stone at the base of the old, broken oak.

A stone marker had been installed at the base of the tree. Oleander had quietly decided upon the wordering and installed it themselves, after Kieran had irritably snapped at them “I don’t give a damn; do it yourself!” 

It was not enough to describe all that Sir Montgomery was in life, but then, no headstone would ever be able to capture the entirety of a man’s soul.

Here Rests the Most Honorable

Sir Montgomery Snow

Who Gave His Mortal Life

In Service to the Moon Court

For a long moment, Jack gazes at the headstone in silence, his expression intense and unreadable. He looks almost angry. 

Kieran braces himself to hear Jack say something vicious, and knows he won't be able to hold himself back this time if Jack speaks disrespectfully about Sir Monty before his very grave.

Then, Jack sighs deeply, hands on his thighs, and hangs his head. Kieran peers at him curiously.

“We have both suffered the loss of the most important people in our lives,” Jack says finally. He glances up at Kieran ruefully, his expression for once vulnerable and sincere. “Haven't we?”

Kieran can only glare at him. 

Jack looks back toward Monty’s headstone. “I want to say I regret what I've taken from you. But the truth is, if I had not killed Monty, he would have killed me. And I can't apologize for not allowing that to happen. Not honestly. Because I was not just fighting this battle for myself, and I owed it to those people in there that I would let nothing and no one stand in my way. No matter how noble.” 

There's a silence where Kieran considers leaping at him at closing his hands over Jack’s throat. But there isn't enough energy in him now. What would be the point? 

“But I regret the pain I have caused,” Jack says, in a way that makes Kieran think he's never apologized before in his life and it's physically painful for him. “I know that's foolish. I can't wish the past undone and know I would have changed nothing, all at the same time.”

“You wish it hadn't come to this,” Kieran manages to say, surprised at how rough his voice sounds, how close to tears. He can't even look at Jack.

“Yes.”

Kieran scoffs. “So do I.”

Not that it mattered what any of them wished. Wishes are futile things, even for Fae.

“Nothing I can say will undo the damage I've done. Believe me, I'm well aware,” Jack says bitterly. “But I want to say this anyway: I was wrong about you. I was wrong about so many things that it makes my blood boil to look back on it. About Sir Montgomery and Eisa. About the right way to fight for equality in this realm.”

“You were wrong about Ella,” Kieran reminds him snappishly.

Jack has the gall to look surprised. Then embarrassed.  “I…yes.” 

Kieran raises his brow expectantly, demanding a better answer than that. 

Jack sighs explosively and runs a hand through his hair. “I thought her addled at best, foolishly naive at worst. I thought you were like every other Fae I had ever had the misfortune of meeting, who had dazzled and enthralled an unwitting human into doing your bidding. But…you truly love her, don’t you?”

“With all that I am.” Kieran feels his hands clench into fists. “Ella has the most pure and genuine heart for others I’ve ever known a mortal to have. And a stubborn, inner strength that has never ceased to impress me. She is braver than any Fae I have ever met. That you misjudged her angers me even more than being misjudged. And that she is in my palace right now, heartless, where she should have been safe, angers me more than anything else.”

“You feel like you failed her.” It’s a statement, not a question. Jack gazes at him evenly.

“I did fail her,” Kieran snaps. “She felt she had no choice but to use the Immortality Curse, because this realm is so dangerous for mortals. I didn’t do enough to ensure she felt safe among Fae. I wasn’t able to break her curse, despite my promise that my love would be strong enough to save her. And yes, I ignored the threat of your Eclipse and the suffering you endured, as generations of Moon Court heirs have done before me. I own that mistake as wholly mine. But, Jack - it was your arrogance and prejudice didn’t want to believe Fae lives were in any way worth sparing. You came to kill us without knowing us. Without giving us even a chance.”

Jack’s brow wrinkles. “To be fair, that is exactly how mortals have been treated by Fae for the entirety of history.”

“Doesn’t make it right.”

Jack looks contrite. “No. It doesn’t.”

“I'm glad we can agree on something,” Kieran mutters. 

“Perhaps that's why I was too late to save my father,” Jack muses quietly, as if to himself. “His innocent life, spent in payment for my sins. I live now only because you demand it, Kieran - else I would fall on that damned sword as penance. And I will do what I can to help fix this. But some things I can't fix. And for that…I truly am sorry.”

Kieran's eyes fill with tears, hot and angry. He can feel Jack’s gaze on him, and doesn't meet it.  His emotions war in such a furious swirling tempest he can't keep track of any of them - he doesn't even try to name them.

What strikes him, though, is how much of Jack's words mirror Kieran's own internal guilt. 

An innocent life paid the price of my arrogance.

I would fall on my sword for my failure.

Some things I can't fix.

Kieran senses himself at a fork in the road. He can do what his old self would have done - the bitter, broken, cold version that used viciousness to isolate himself and wallowed in his own misery - and rebuff Jack’s attempt to repent. Jack would live, but they would be forever strangers. Forever estranged.

Or he can be the man Ella always believed him to be. The man Kieran strives to live up to.

Kieran lets out a long sigh. “I can’t forgive you, Jack. Not yet. But I accept your apology. I believe it’s sincerely offered.”

“If nothing else, know that I am a man who means what he says.” Jack’s level gaze doesn’t waver. He shows no sign of discomfort from kneeling so long in the dirt, even though the gashes Kieran had delt to his flank are barely scabbed over. Up close, Kieran can see the disciplined way Jack holds himself. The quiet confidence of a true warrior. This has been his life's sole purpose, and Kieran realizes, just now, how broken Jack must also feel.

“We are two of a kind that way,” Kieran answers quietly.

Jack huffs a short laugh, then grows serious again. “Kieran…for what it’s worth? I’m sorry for what happened to Ella. I hope, one day, she will be restored. And on that day, I will ask her forgiveness as well.” Jack climbs to his feet and idly brushes off his knees. “I think my chances will be better if I wait until then.”

The harsh bark of a laugh that escapes Kieran's throat just then doesn't slow Jack's steps, and soon Kieran is alone again beneath this silent, doomed tree.

His laugh turns into a sob.

His hands claw the grass and hard-packed earth as if he could tear it away. Rip open the grave beneath his feet and demand it all to be different, for fate to change according to his will, for the chance to go back in time and undo his mistakes, to unravel all the terrible things that have happened.

But he’s powerless now, and his hands can no more open a hole to bury himself than they could bring back the dead. 

Kieran puts his forehead to the earth in defeat, and lets himself weep like he has not done in a hundred years.

[hymemena]

The Scott Tibbs Documentary Sentence Starters Part 1/3

Feel free to change pronouns as necessary, and remember to specify muse for multimuse blogs.

CW: Swearing, mentions of death, mentions of murder, hero worship, bullying, police work

—

"Hey, give me the fucking camera."

"I've known them since I was like, five."

"The first thing I remember thinking when I met the guy was 'What a fucking pussy.'"

"Tried to toughen 'em up."

"It didn't do a hell of a lotta good."

"Alright, on me. Go wide."

"Am I in focus?"

"Fucking focus?"

"You're in fucking focus!"

"So, anyway, [your muse's name here]."

"I was pretty fucking-- Shut the fuck up, man! I'm trying to fucking do something here!"

"Don't make me fucking tell y'all again."

"The next thing I know, I hear on the TV they might have gotten themselves iced."

"To be quite honest, I don't give a shit about [name]."

"Dude, that's fucked up."

"I was like 'fuck, yeah!' What a fuckin' rush, man!"

"So I acquired this sweet little camera and I'm making my own documentary about this sick fucker!"

"Come on, man, let's show them that shit we were looking at earlier."

"Hands off the keyboard."

"Just take it easy."

"Authorities are treating this as a particularly gruesome crime scene."

"Now, detectives are looking for any information."

"Wicked."

"So, I got a tip from my buddy."

"Asking me to come down to this enchanting locale?"

"Hey, baby!"

"Wassup?"

"What'd you bring me down to this shithole for?"

"I knew it, man."

"They're a fucking ninja!"

"Yeah, man, yeah. Hey, hey, I don't give a shit."

"This evening, [name] was captured and then questioned at length."

"If you want any chance of mercy from us when we catch you, we better damn well see [name] in one piece."

"This guy actually had the balls to pop a cop. My fucking hero."

"Turns out there's not a whole hell of a lot of information available."

"What can I say? They're no rockstar."

"Just a boring kid that grew into a boring adult."

"It's like something clicked."

"Found their reason to live."

[thegeminisage]

IT IS. star trek update time. last night we did ds9's "the muse" and voy's "the thaw."

the muse (ds9):

the a-plot of this was so fucking stupid. WHY is it always jake and older women...can we please cut him a fucking break...

also, the mysticism around writing. "i can show you exercises and techniques" "you have so many ideas it all seems too big to you right now" come on. the only exercise and technique she needed to show him was how to fucking outline. it's not MAGIC you don't get divinely graced with the ability to write a book you just sit down and do one little bit at a time. i cannot believe writers wrote this. insufferable. they sound like george rr martin i hope he is having a bad day wherever he is

jake and sisko at the end were so cute though...sisko my beloved...

the b plot.............................................

here's the thing. while i have reversed my stance on lwaxana troi, who got much better in her final few episodes (was this the last one or do we have one more...?), i don't want odo/lwaxana to be better than odo/kira and the odo/lwaxana was REALLY GOOD. and ik some people really didn't like the way odo/kira wound up happening in canon so even though idk what happens yet NOBODY TELL ME i am bracing for it to be bad and to love it unconditionally anyway. so that was a huge struggle for me

odo in his little shapeshifter playground feeding off of lwaxana's giddiness...i wish deanna had been able to do the reverse-empath thing on tng, it would have been so much fun

ALSO i cant believe he finally got his first little smooch!!!! GOOD FOR HIM

the thaw (voy)

sigh. so apparently a lot of people really like this episode but i...hated it. one of the worst voy episodes to date actually

whatever this episode THINKS it's saying about fear is lost under the set dressing. and the set dressing IS really cool - i like the wacky practical effects and bright colors. it reminds me a lot of tos. in fact, this whole episode could have been a tos episode, but it would have been one of those tos episodes that makes the top 10 worst ranking or whatever

the problem is the Randumb XD Humor...it's like q, like the squire of gothos. it just doesn't hit for me and never will. like, the actors were good at what they did, the costumes looked great, the set was funky, even the background music really fucked, but things being Randumb XD is just too dated for me. i don't mind star trek being dated most of the time but this is where i draw the line. maybe i'd like it better if i gave it another shot, but i probably will not be doing that

i think janeway called it in, with her acting. like everyone's like damn she ACTED no girl she did a lot of dramatic whispering. and who can blame her. the script was all over the place

i just think if you're trying to terrify people you could do better than the circus theme. yeah, clowns bad, but even tng had that spooky morgue thing happening

also, lost opportunity: if this clown guy can kill people by scaring them to death ie making them live the experience of getting their heads chopped off virtually which gives them a heart attack in real life then why not write tuvok, local expert at conquering fear, into this episode? you could have cut off tuvok's head and he wouldn't have died of fright. it would have been perfect for the metaphor

the ending to this episode would have fucked a lot more if the rest of it hadn't sucked so bad. janeway's murder walk was REALLY good. it's also something kirk would have done, if they'd had the holodeck in tos, and thank GOD they didn't

but yeah, the solution of fear needing conquering and wanting to be conquered just doesn't hit when most of the script...didn't really talk about fear, it was just wilding out

TONIGHT: ds9's "for the cause" and voy's "tuvix"...okay, wait, i'm just now looking at these episode titles. everyone on reddit is always so mad about janeway killing a guy named tuvix but i thought i got it mixed up with tuvOK. like i literally thought she killed tuvok and everybody was like dw about it she doesn't kill tuvok so who tf is tuvix...is this a clone thing or something? like black shirt green shirt tuvok?? please let it be a clone thing

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Wips for wips

I was tagged by @rosette-dragonborn for a wip extract. Thank you so much for tagging me!

tagging @throughtrialbyfire, @viss-and-pinegar, @vivifriend, @saltymaplesyrup, @archangelsunited @thequeenofthewinter and anyone else who wants to post stuff.

Gonna post an extract from a murder mystery thing i'm writing that centres around Ashlanders. Mostly inspired by this quest.

POV characters are Teldryn and Erra respectively, with this snippet being from Teldryn's POV. Warning for descriptions of a murder scene.

The hand had been severed. Teldryn felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as his eyes followed the trail of blood to what he assumed was once Airan-Ahhe. By the gods, it was a sorry sight! The mer was lying on his back, his head rolled to the side and facing away from him. What hair wasn’t plastered to his skin with coagulating blood was knotted and matted out like a nest of grass along the yurt’s floor. He noticed the mer had the sides of his head shaved, much as he did and there was a large, deep gash along the side of his scalp, clearly visible through the ash-brown stubble. He felt Erra take his hand. “Etana was not lying when he said this was quite the sight,” Erra whispered, his thumb brushing against the tick wool of Teldryn’s gloves. Another gift Erra had given him before he left for Kogoruhn. They had an enchantment weaved into the fabric that emitted warmth so that his hands wouldn’t freeze up if he needed to fight in the cold, barren ashwastes. “It looks like quite the brutal fight,” Teldryn muttered as he tore his eyes away from the carnage and looked back at Erra, who was still staring at the scene before them. “If it was a fight then it may not be murder,” Erra stated, his voice cracking a little, “Both Airan-Ahhe and Zallay Subaddamael hail from Erabenimsun, like your father. Their honour challenges are known to end in such carnage.” “What makes you think this is an honour challenge?” Teldryn asked, squeezing Erra’s hand. He knew his father’s clan had a reputation for violence and brutality, even amongst the Ashlanders. There was an honour rite that his mother had told him about when he was recovering from Corprus. An offended party would challenge an opponent in a fight to the death. It was why his father had left them in the first place. He jumped as Erra squeezed his hand, pulling him back to Nirn again. “I am only assuming because of the evidence of a fight,” Erra pointed at the severed hand on the floor, “I do not recall Airan having three hands.” Teldryn sighed and shook his head, “If it’s a fight born from a challenge then there’s not really anything I can do about it, is there?” Erra shook his head, “No, if there was a formal challenge, then there is no crime. But, if Airan was indeed, murdered as Kurapli believes then he certainly had a chance to defend himself. I am afraid this is looking a little more complicated than I initially assumed.” “You saying that this could all be just a grizzly misunderstanding,” Teldryn grumbled, his hands on his hips, “We were dragged all the damn way here for nothing?” Erra shrugged, “It is unusual for challenges to occur when there is a Harrowing celebration happening. It is meant to be a joyous time, not a time to air out disagreements.” “So, someone’s done something egregious enough to warrant this?” Teldryn mused, taking a step forward towards the body sprawled out before them, “It’s a little unusual then?” Erra nodded, following him as he moved to get a better look at the body. It was not particularly pleasant, and he wasn’t a fan of the dead at any stage of decomposition but this he could at least stomach… well not exactly, he just feared decay more than he feared fresh viscera. Not that this was particularly pleasant, the gaping wound along Airan’s neck showing the meat and bone that was inside. Teldryn took his gloves off and carefully reached for the mer’s head, hoping to turn it towards him. He let go almost as quickly and stumbled back, nausea twisting his guts as he threw up on the yurt’s floor. Gods this was a fucking shit show!